Joe Vogel looked down at the golden triangle of pubic hair as Marty spread her legs wide, draping one over the back seat of the car. He couldn't see her face too well in the dimness, but he knew the expression she would be wearing: triumph and greed. She was a hot little bitch, and it was hard for him to remember that she was only two years older than his own daughter, Cindy.
He got on his knees on the floor of the back of the car and began to lick the inner thighs of Marty Wells. There was a hunger in him that only this hot, young nympho could satisfy. Marty had it all-the body, the desire, the wantonness of a cheap whore, and Joe was at the point that, if she didn't give in all the way pretty soon, he'd rape her!
She raised her head so she could watch him as his mouth closed on her vagina. His tongue slid in between the soft, wet lips of her tight pussy, probing the hot inner parts until it found the erect little knob of flesh. His tongue tickled it, then began to rub against it in a forward and back motion, as he felt her whole body tremble with passion. Joe slid one hand underneath his chin and began to probe the inner depths of her cunt with his finger, enjoying the shuddering response that he brought from the little sexpot.
Marty gazed down at him hungrily, automatically reaching down with one hand to cup the back of Joe's head, guiding the rhythm of his tonguing of her clitoris. Her eyes shone in the dimness, like those of a predatory night animal. There was a thirst in her expression, yet a look of triumph, just as Joe knew there would be. She had let him get this far before, and Joe had news for her: tonight, he was going all the way! He had the key to unlock her cunt in his coat pocket. Blackmail was the word for it.
She had insisted that he give her the charm bracelet with the gold giraffe on it, that belonged to his wife, Georgia. Marty had wanted it from the first time that she sensed that her lush young body was an effective weapon to use in her war with the world. At first, Joe had refused. He had given the charm bracelet to Georgia on their first date-a trip to the zoo, where he had bought the bracelet and the first of the golden charms.
He concentrated on working the little bitch up to a lather, his tongue gouging deep into her tiny lovebox, until she began to buck and roll with his motions, making low moaning sounds in her throat, like a bitch in heat that has chosen her mate.
"Suck me good, Joey-suck it, suck it until I come!" Marty moaned. Joe continued sucking and licking, keeping the pressure on her clit until he knew that she was about to explode, then he withdrew his finger and his tongue from her hot, moist cunt.
"All the way, Marty," he said firmly. "I'm going to fuck you tonight-now!"
She sat upright and glared at him. "You've got the bracelet?"
For an answer, Joe reached into his pocket and came up with the charm bracelet, and its single token-the golden giraffe that gleamed in the moonlight.
"Oh, Joe!" Marty screamed in delight, grabbing the trinket from his hand. "You did it! You got it for me!"
She fondled the tiny golden animal as if it were a precious treasure, and, to Marty Wells, it was. It was the symbol of Joe Vogel's surrender and of her triumph over his wife, Georgia.
As she gloated over her victory and its emblem, Joe slid his swollen cock out of his pants. It was hard and erect, and he skinned the loose foreskin back a couple of times, anticipating the ecstasy that would be his when he slid it into that golden-matted cunt of Marty's.
He moved closer and began to rub the end of his cock against her cunt lips. He knew that it would be too awkward in the back seat of his car, and he didn't want this spoiled by anything. He had waited too long. She had tormented him for weeks, and now, she was going to get the fucking that she'd been asking for!
"Let's get out on the grass, baby," Joe coaxed. "I want this to be good for both of us."
She hardly seemed to hear him, but when he opened the car door and got out, she followed him quickly, still grasping the shiny trinket in her hot hand. She laid down on the grass in a matter-of-fact way, as if she were used to being fucked like this-and maybe she had been, Joe thought as he watched her slide her miniskirt up around her navel. Her pants lay on the front seat of the car where he had dropped them ten minutes ago.
The moon made her hair glisten with a golden luster, and as he positioned himself between her legs, his stiff prick in his hand, Joe thought incongruously that everything about her seemed golden-even her passionate desires.
He rested most of his weight on his knee and one elbow as he fumbled nervously with his prick, penetrating the outer lips of her vagina. He could feel her jump involuntarily as he allowed the head of it to go in deeper, with more of his weight behind it. She spread her legs wider then, as he entered almost to the hilt, she gasped and wrapped her legs around his hips. She put her arms around his neck and began to kiss him wildly, their bodies fused together.
Joe pumped in and out, each thrust leaving him weak with the joy of her demanding response. He began to kiss her mouth, his tongue flicking in and out of her open one, warring with her tongue, sucking it into his mouth. Marty began to mumble wildly as he increased the pace of his thrusting, throbbing prick in and out of her vagina. He wondered vaguely who had been the first to taste this lovely sex machine. He knew, by her experienced movements and by the ease with which his huge cock had penetrated deep into her womanhood, that it hadn't been him. Yet, she was still tight, the walls of her cunt creating a friction that caressed his cock from head to root.
"Oh, Joe," she mouthed, her words half smothered by his kiss, "fuck me good! Give me all of it! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"
Her wanton words and the rhythm of her body against his put Joe into a haze of passion. He forgot the time and the place. He forgot this was a mere child he was having intercourse with. All he knew was that beneath him was a pulsating, alluring bundle of sex, and she was responding to him with a fervor no other woman had ever displayed.
"You're the most wonderful fuck I've ever had," Joe moaned. "Wonderful, sexy, beautiful Marty! Fuck me hard, baby-fuck me with all you've got!"
As they approached orgasm, neither could control the bucking and shivering of their bodies. They joined in a noisy slapping of stomachs, their mouths slavered and obscured the words so that only the moans were audible. Joe had managed to slip his hands under her ass-cheeks, and now his nails dug deep into the soft, hot flesh of her ass, pulling her sharply against his pelvic region, allowing his cock to penetrate to the depths of her throbbing cunt, while massaging her clitoris constantly with the in-and-out motion.
Suddenly, as she felt his hot juices enter her cunt, Marty let go, her whole lower body convulsed in a series of rapid jerks as she exploded in a violent surge of ecstasy. Joe let his emotions govern the action of his body, and his ass bobbed up and down quickly, gradually slowing to a rhythmic halt. He lay quietly atop her, breathing hard, thinking of the fullness of his emotions, the utter satisfaction she had given him in the past few moments. But most of all, Joe thought: What now? What can I do without her?-Or with her, for that matter?
"Was I good, Joe?" Marty asked, breaking his troubled train of thought. He kissed her mouth tenderly and replied, "You're the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me, Marty."
"You were wonderful, too," Marty said dreamily. She raised her arm so that the moonlight reflected from the gold bracelet and the gold giraffe. "I'll never forget this night." Her voice was husky, and Joe was conscious that his prick was beginning to harden again as it soaked in the love juices that both of them had deposited inside her cunt.
"There'll be lots more," Marty said, her eyes still on the memento on her wrist. Joe burned with desire, and her words, which he understood to mean that there would be other times like this for the both of them, gave him a warm glow. It flattered his ego and made him feel much more a man than Georgia did. Georgia had hardly any interest in sex anymore. She had grown cold, and even when he did have intercourse with her, she lay so unmoving and unemotional that she made Joe feel as if she were merely enduring it-almost as if she were performing a wifely duty, or, perhaps, doing him a favor.
As his prick began to swell and distend, he felt Marty stir beneath him. She was rolling her hips about, rubbing the walls of her cunt against his demanding manhood. But Marty wasn't thinking of Joe, nor had she meant that there would be other times with Joe Vogel, like this night of lust. Oh, she would let Joe fuck her again, no doubt, but what Marty Wells had meant was that there would be other charms added to the bracelet, or perhaps other, more expensive reminders of nights like this-with many others.
In spite of her faraway, dreamy thoughts, Joe's insistent hard-on rekindled the desire in her, and she dropped her arm and gathered his shoulders in both her arms, moving her pelvic area in a slow, provocative circle as Joe began to increase his thrusts rapidly. Marty's clitoris throbbed into a second orgasm quickly, long before Joe was able to achieve climax, and after her third, she lay quietly, while Joe finished his orgasm with a great deal of effort, as he sensed that he was alone in his needs at that moment.
He crawled off her, took out his handkerchief and wiped off his prick, then tossed the white cloth away. He looked at her open pussy, glistening with their juices as she spread her legs and relaxed completely in the wan moonlight. An uneasiness came to Joe.
"Do you-do anything, Marty? I mean-to keep from getting pregnant?"
She laughed shrilly at his question. "You mean, do I douche, or anything like that? Don't be silly. I've been taking the pill for almost a year now."
Joe wondered how she had gotten a prescription for birth-control pills, but, as he looked at his wrist watch, he reflected that Marty Wells could get most anything she ever wanted, from men. Anyhow, she had relieved his mind, for he had been vaguely frightened while he was fucking her that he might impregnate her. Four kids were enough of a problem, with a cold ass like Georgia to sleep with. Joe Vogel didn't need any more problems.
"It's pretty late. Georgia will get ideas if I'm not home in a few minutes." As he said it, Joe knew that his wife already had ideas. She had questioned him severely as to why it always took so long to drive the babysitter home. Joe had gotten by with the explanation that he had had to stop and buy her a hamburger and Coke, or that he had stopped in to see if there was anything her sick mother needed.
It had quieted Georgia, but it hadn't fooled her. He knew his wife's suspicious nature too well for that. She didn't approve of Marty Wells at all. Georgia said she was too "bold and brassy," and that she was a walking keg of sex dynamite. Well, Joe reflected as he straightened his pants and shirt, she was sure right on that score. Marty was one of the best lays he'd ever had.
Marty got up and brushed off her skirt. She held out her wrist, admiring the bracelet. "You're nice, Joe," she said.
He grabbed her impulsively and drew her to him, his lips finding hers. She didn't respond very enthusiastically, but the feel of her tiny breasts against his chest, and her pelvic area shoved tight against his still throbbing cock, made up for her lack of ardor.
"Again soon?" Joe asked, through a kiss.
"Maybe. We'll see."
Joe sighed and released her. "Let's go, baby," he said, climbing into the car and starting it as she got in on the other side. In the lights of the dashboard, Marty was holding her wrist out, examining the charm bracelet, and the tiny giraffe.
Joe thought, as he watched her from time to time on the short ride to her house, that she was still a little girl at heart, in spite of the fullness of her sexual nature. When he pulled up before her house, they didn't even kiss goodnight. She climbed out of the car and headed up the short walk. Almost as an afterthought, Marty stopped and turned, waving her arm and pointing to the bracelet with her other hand.
"Oh-thanks, Joe," she said. Then she whirled and ran the last few steps to the low porch and disappeared into the darkened front room.
* * *
Marty flipped on the light in her bedroom. She had heard her mother call weakly from her room at the back of the house, "That you, honey?" Marty had given her usual laconic answer and hurried into her bedroom, just off the living room.
She took off the bracelet and admired it again. She looked at the rounded surface of the name plate, frowning at its emptiness. Tomorrow, she would take part of the five dollars Joe had paid her for babysitting that evening, and have the initials engraved: M.W. from J.V. That way, she'd never forget.
She placed the bracelet on the stand beside her bed, and the last thing her eyes saw as she flipped the switch on the bedside lamp, was the golden image of Joe's giraffe, the first item in her collection of sex reminders.
* * *
She awoke to the buzzing of the alarm beside her bed, and as she opened her eyes and reached to shut it off, she spied the bracelet. For a long moment, she just stared at it, remembering the evening before. She jumped out of bed, her lithe young body a work of art as she quickly donned panties and bra, then a blouse and miniskirt.
Marty washed carefully and donned makeup, then stopped at the door of her mother's bedroom. She looked in at the dim figure lying so quiet. The shades were drawn so that the night seemed to still linger in her mother's room. There was impatience in her voice as she asked, "What shall I bring from the store on my way home?"
"Whatever you want for supper, honey," her mother's tired voice replied. "Be a good girl and have a good day."
Marty nodded absently, her thoughts already far away from the dying woman on the bed. She picked up her purse, tucked a five-dollar bill inside, and dropped the gold bracelet in on top of it. She'd stop at the jewelers on the way home.
Already, in her agile mind, Marty Wells was planning the next addition to her collection. She was humming a bright, lilting melody as she stepped out into the bright sunlight and headed for school.
CHAPTER TWO
Rain was falling as the small group broke up and scurried quickly to the few waiting cars that lined the macadam drive that circled through the cemetery. The last to leave, with a backward glance at the ugly mound of earth beside the grave, was Marty Wells.
Her eyes were hard. The mist on her cheeks was only summer raindrops. There were no tears. The look on her face was one of relief, like a long-term criminal who has seen the gates to freedom open.
She turned toward the minister who had waited, thinking that he might comfort the motherless child. Beside him stood his son, Eddie, looking sanctimoniously sympathetic. Marty looked hard at Eddie, as if to say, "You tried, buster, but your chance is gone, you snot-nose!" But she said nothing. She turned, staring at the dark sedan where her uncle stood impatiently, holding the door open and scowling at her. Marty's eyes were clear. It was the end of an era and the beginning of a new and free life for her.
"Come on, Marty," said Ray Milford testily, "there's nothing more we can do here." Marty climbed into the back seat of the car and flopped down listlessly. Her Aunt Helen looked severely at the exposed expanse of thigh that her mini-dress provided and said, in a tone of scorn, "I still say that wasn't the kind of dress to wear to your mother's funeral, Martha!"
"Leave her alone," Ray growled as he climbed in behind the wheel. "What the hell difference does it make to her mother?"
Marty sat quietly, glaring defiantly back at her aunt's set face. They didn't like each other, and both of them knew it. Marty wondered how it would be now, with her living with Ray and Helen. There wasn't much choice. Ray was her only relative, her mother's younger brother, and whether Helen liked it or not, Marty had to live with them-at least for a while.
The click-clack, swish-swash of the windshield wipers were like a lullaby to Marty as they drove home. She suddenly realized that she hadn't had much sleep the last few nights, and she was in a half doze, the past few months passing before her eyes like the rerun of a movie she had seen recently. She shivered unconsciously as she recalled the ever-present threat that her aunt had made into almost a battle cry: "If she were my daughter, I'd show her a thing or two. These sexy, cheap girls today-" on and on, it had always been the same.
And now, technically at least, Marty was her girl! Marty wasn't too concerned. If it got too tough, she would just split the scene. She could take care of herself-that much she knew. There was always a man who would break his ass to give her things, just so he could paw over and screw that lush body of hers! Marty knew from experience!
As she daydreamed in the back seat, the voices of her aunt and uncle faded, and she relived some of the excitement that had been hers these past few months-since her mother had been so ill, and Marty had had practically a free rein.
Joe's face loomed up in her thoughts. Joe Vogel, married, with four kids that she had babysat for many times. Joe had been the best. Marty remembered clearly the touch of his hand on her breast and thigh-the way his tongue felt as it slid into her mouth or her ear, and later-into the lips of her vagina, to touch and torment her clit.
She relived the nights they had had together in his car, then later, a motel, and finally, when her mother became too sick to notice what was going on, in Marty's own bed! She recalled most vividly the nights they had ripped each other apart with wild sex, in Joe's very own bed-the bed that he shared with his cold-assed wife, Georgia! That had been a special thrill for Marty, knowing that she was taking the place of Georgia. She hated the drab woman-almost as drab as her mother had been, and her Aunt Helen. Any one of them would shit if somebody mentioned the fact that boys and girls, men and women, actually fucked!
It served Georgia right. Maybe it served her mother right, she didn't know. Marty had never known her father, and her strait laced mother had never known another man in her whole life-that Marty was sure of. Church-that was all her mother ever knew or cared about. Psalm-singing, soul-praying church women. If her mother had known about some of the holier-than-thou men, she'd have shit her panties, Marty mused. Like the preacher's son. Eddie, who had been feeling Marty's ass and tits since she was twelve, along with all the other kids he could get his hands on.
Marty was glad she'd never did it with Eddie. He was a smartass who thought every girl he looked at would just lay down and spread her legs for him. Well, not Marty Wells! Besides, Eddie was a boy-a snot nosed boy, and Marty liked them to know as much as she did about sex ways. She wasn't about to teach anyone about screwing, sucking, or anything that had to do with sex.
She didn't know if she was sorry that she'd soon be leaving all of them behind her. Ray and Helen lived in a big city, over two hundred miles distant, and it had already been decided that Marty would go back with them, right now, to begin a new life.
But she wouldn't forget them-not one. From each male who had tasted her favors, Marty had demanded a memento. She liked to take out her collection and muse over it, remembering the details of each man and how easy it had been to command them.
There was the charm bracelet from Wally, with each little image commemorating a different night with him-some at the beach, some at his house, in his car and in a couple of motels. Wally had been nice, Marty mused, but he had wanted to get serious, divorce his wife, and marry her, and that wasn't the way Marty wanted the game to go at all. It was too much fun the way it was. She wanted no ties, and, above all, no marriage and babies, dishes, diapers, and all the dull, drab routines that went with marriage.
And the locket from Jake Weber, with the tiny diamonds on it and her initials, M.W., engraved on the back. Jake's picture had been there for a time, but she had long since torn it to bits. She could remember Jake all right, without any picture. He had been the first one who had paid her. He was older than the rest, and he was ugly, and he had been feeling her up since she was a little girl. One day, he had just blurted out, "I'll ... I'll give you ten dollars if you'll ... take off your clothes."
She hadn't accepted at first. Something told her that old Jake was good for a lot more money than that. He ran a little store that had a little of everything, and he had supplied Marty-and a lot of other little girls-with free candy for years, in return for them allowing him to play with their virgin pussies and fondle their budding breasts.
No, she'd always remember Jake, locket or no. As she thought of him and his clumsy hands inside her panties, she wondered if there would be any easy marks like Jake in the city where she was going.
She could see in her mind's eye the silver identification bracelet that had been Harvey's contribution to her collection. Harvey was a milkman, and he was as free with his hands as Jake had been, when he was certain no one was watching him feel and kiss the girls on his route. Even more often, Harvey would sneak in and slip into bed with some of the women whose husbands were hard at work. Harvey was a good-looking man, strong and athletic, suntanned from many hours in the sun, fishing, playing baseball with the kids, hunting, or swimming. He was a local high-school football hero whom everyone said was sure to go to college, become an All American, and then play pro football.
Instead, Harvey had knocked up Ella Bordeen when she was sixteen, married her and had taken a job with the dairy that her old man owned. Now they had seven kids, and Harvey had been another of her conquests while she had been babysitting for his spoiled, squalling brats. Harvey was a sucker for girls. He'd proved that when he had messed up a promising future just because he had to soak his big cock in the pussy of some young sexpot. But he had really been something in the hay, Marty recalled, and he had taught her a lot of ways to please a man and get most anything from him that she wanted.
With all those brats, Harvey wasn't good for much money, but he had given her the identification bracelet as a real token of love, and she always thought of Harvey with great fondness, when she got out her collection and looked at it.
No, Marty reflected, she wouldn't really be leaving the town, where she'd been born and brought up, behind. She would take little bits of it with her.
She was snapped from her reverie by her Aunt Helen's harsh voice. "I hope you don't sit like that in school or out in public," Helen scolded, leering angrily at the show of blue nylon panties that Marty's widespread legs showed.
"For Christ's sake, Helen, leave the kid alone!" Ray exploded.
As Helen glared at her husband, a strange smile curled the lips of Marty Wells. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. Ray seemed to be on her side. But then, most men were. Helen was going to turn out to be a bitch, worse than her mother had been when she was well. She was as big a square, and, Marty thought, she was another religious nut. So what if a little panty showed? If they weren't supposed to, why would they make short skirts?
"Don't you curse at me, Raymond Milford!" Helen ranted. "Someday, the Lord is going to strike you dumb if you keep on taking his name in vain!"
"Balls!" Ray growled. He half mumbled to himself, "Christ, it'll be a relief to get back to work and get away from you. These last few days around you have been hell."
Marty couldn't hide the smile. She was going to enjoy living with him. Ray was her kind of guy-entirely different from his sister, Marty's mother. As she studied his partially revealed profile, her eyes widened in new appreciation. Ray was pretty good-looking at that. He was husky, with dark hair and brown, crackling eyes, and there was something manly and sexy about him, especially when he looked at you.
As they pulled into the driveway of her former home, Marty noticed how Ray was looking at her in the rear-view mirror, lifting himself up slightly so that he could get a look at her crotch. For a brief instant, their eyes met and Marty felt a glow spread through her. She'd be all right. She'd see to it that Ray became a part of her "collection."
There would be no problem with Helen. Marty could almost see the icicles that formed between them when they crossed glances, and the weakness was evident in Helen's gaze, in her high, whining voice, and in the way her mouth set in a pout when she was frustrated.
It would be fun, Marty mused, to play games with Ray, just to see her aunt pout and fume and rant.
Inside the house, standing beside the suitcases that contained all her possessions-except her collection, which she carried in her purse-Marty decided to begin the game of seducing her Uncle Ray. She managed to produce some tears, and she looked so forlorn that Ray stepped forward and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Buck up, honey," he said. "It'll work out just fine. You'll see."
Marty whirled suddenly and threw her arms around his neck, kissing his mouth, pushing her pelvis hard against his genitals, thrusting out her small breasts in the hope that he would feel them against his chest. Ray's arms enfolded her automatically, and he patted her back, reddening under Helen's harsh stare. He was vaguely conscious of a stirring within his loins at the feel of the girl-woman in his arms, embarrassed at her show of emotion.
In spite of himself, his prick began to harden, and he pushed Marty away quickly, turning to pick up two of the suitcases. "Let's get going," he said. "We can be home before eight o'clock."
Marty rolled the word around on her tongue as she took a last look about her. Home. Leaving the only one she had ever known, for a strange home-a house of strangers.
As if reading her thoughts, Helen put in gruffly, "I know it's hard now, Martha, but you'll make new friends quickly. It will be all right." She grabbed another suitcase, leaving a small overnight bag for Marty to carry to the car.
As they pulled away from the house, Marty didn't look back. In her mind, she was envisioning the "new friends" that her aunt had predicted she would make. "Make" is the right word, too, Marty mused, her pretty mouth curling into a sly grin that went unseen by her aunt and uncle.
To pass the time, Marty read from a true-confession magazine, and from time to time, she took her collection from her purse and examined each memento dreamily, wondering who would be the next to add an item in return for her sexual favors.
* * *
William Brady looked at the young girl who sat in the front seat, her legs carelessly spread, showing her filmy pink panties plainly. He could even see the darker shadow of her pubic hair-or at least he imagined he could.
She was a real problem. Brady felt that she could master algebra if she chose, but Marty Wells seemed determined not to make the concerted effort. Because of her attitude, he had commanded that she remain after school. Brady wanted to have an honest talk with her. He knew that she was still strange-a loner-and that she had recently lost her only parent, her mother. He sympathized with her, for he had lost his own parents before he was thirteen-Marty's age.
There was something warning him away from her. Maybe it was the surge of desire that swept through him as he let his eyes rove over the expanse of thighs, the pink panties, and then to the smirking, challenging smile that she gave him. She reminded him of a brilliantly colored boa constrictor, dazzling to look at, fascinating in power, yet threatening to encoil him in strong helical of deadliness and crush the life from him.
Marty spread her legs wider and smiled provocatively at him. She rose and walked toward him, the smile frozen on her face. Her eyes were fastened on the slender chain that crossed his vest. In all innocence, she asked naively, "What's on the end of that chain?"
"My Phi Beta Kappa key," he said, angry at himself for letting her take the initiative.
"May I see it?" Marty asked, smiling up at him. He reluctantly took the key from his pocket and held it out to her. She took it in her hands, holding it almost reverently. "It's ... it's for scholastic superiority," Brady said in strange embarrassment.
"I want it!" she blurted.
Brady stared at her, fascinated by her utter gall. He watched entranced as she leaned forward a bit, ran her hands up under her short skirt and pulled down her panties! She stepped out of them, then quickly unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged out of it. Then she undid her bra and deftly slipped out of her skirt.
Bill Brady was so fascinated by the expanse of alluring flesh, the pink-nippled breasts, the golden-thatched vagina, that he was motionless. All he could do was stare as she moved close to him and ran her hand over his already hardening penis, through the cloth of his pants.
"Trade?" she taunted, stepping back and holding her arms out from her body, turning about to give him a view of her lovely, rounded ass.
Brady was sweating now. He knew he was trapped, and to further remind him, Marty's expression hardened. Her eyes flashed icily. "Or I could begin to scream, right now!"
Brady put up his hands imploringly. "What do you want?" he whined.
The smile returned to Marty's face magically, and that look of triumph came to her expressive eyes. "I want you to fuck me, and then give me that Phi Beta Kappa key for my collection!"
Her eyes were cold again, but Brady wasn't watching her face now. His eyes were riveted on the golden patch of hair, through which he could see the glistening, beckoning lips of her cunt! A wave of desire engulfed him and he swept Marty into his arms, his stiff cock pressing against her pussy as his lips closed over hers.
Unseen by him, Marty smiled in satisfaction. She hadn't figured he would refuse, but if he had, she would have applied the pressure more by telling him that if he didn't agree to her demands, she would simply run from the room naked, screaming that he had torn off her clothes and had attempted to rape her.
Bill's mind was racing as he tried to keep his own thoughts straight. There was a warning thunder deep inside his brain, that here was "trouble" with a capital T, but that inner alarm that was ringing was washed away in a tide of rising desire.
He had never lusted for a woman's body in his life like he did for this teen-age strumpet. His better instincts told him she was just that, an amateur whore who traded sex for trinkets, to satisfy her own ego and her nymphomaniacal desires. But, like others before him, Bill Brady couldn't think clearly and react sensibly to reason. A phrase popped into his mind: "A stiff prick has no conscience." And it was all too true, he knew as his cock grew harder, pushing against his pants, demanding surcease from the delicious torture that her lush young body was inflicting on him.
He felt her demanding, teasing tongue flicking in and out of his mouth, piling desire upon desire that was creating a sea of need for her. His hands seemed to burn as they roved her rounded, soft curves and he pulled her body in close to his own. She wiggled her hips slightly, giving him a "dry fuck," and Brady abandoned all reins of control. He squeezed her tightly to him and shoved his cock up against her hard, making her gasp in pleasure.
He was no longer able to think about the consequences. His need for her body was too great. He moved away slightly and relinquished his hold with one hand so he could unbuckle his belt and unzip his trousers, and peel them off with one movement.
Marty stood back a little, a sly smile curving her pretty mouth, as she stared, in admiration and desire, at his distended organ. It bobbed as throbs of passion ran through it, and Marty reached out and put her hand on it, stroking it gently for a moment, then quickly bending down and planting a kiss on the head of it!
She quickly released it and lay back on one of the narrow desks, her legs spread wide apart to allow Brady a look at the beckoning lips and the wetly shining, soft inner pinkness of her vagina. He moved toward her, his hand holding his rigid prick, his breath coming in short gulps of air, like a fish out of water. He was sweating.
As he withdrew his eyes momentarily from her inviting lovebox and met her gaze, he felt resentment at the triumphal smile on her face. She knew that he couldn't back off now to save his life, and she wanted him to know that she had taken command.
When he drove his cock into her waiting cunt, Brady made savage thrusts, as if he wanted to punish her for her arrogance. But the anger in him faded quickly as her warm, wet woman flesh sheathed his cock fully. He wondered vaguely how a girl of her years had become so expert in sex, for when he began a smooth in-and-out motion, putting pressure on her clit with each part of his strokes, she inched forward a bit and raised her legs and locked them around his hips. He automatically reached behind her and took one cheek of her ass in each hand, lifting her and at the same time bringing her closer, as he pumped away, panting and moaning in his need.
Marty was watching his face, a look of sadistic pleasure mingling with her own lustful leer, and her mouth was opened slightly as she sucked in air. She felt like a conqueror already, and she knew that once he had tasted fully her sex treatment, that he would come back again and again.
Their rhythm speeded up, their bodies making wet, slapping sounds as Brady's balls slammed against her extended pussy lips. Finally, they abandoned muscular control and let their instincts take over. His cock plunged in and out of her cunt rapidly, already beginning to spurt the first warning drops of his semen. They merged completely as a burst of light seemed to fuse their bodies, and he exploded inside her soft vagina with a shudder of ecstasy that Marty matched, throb by throb. Their bodies coasted to a sweet, lingering stopping of the violent surge of passion and, for a moment, they were quiet, with Brady looking deep into her brown eyes, trying to fathom the seemingly bottomless depths of cold.
There was a trace of a smile on her mouth, but it had lost its triumphal look. It now appeared soft and girlish. It was hard for him to believe that only seconds before, she had given him all the sexual delights that his wildest dreams had ever fashioned.
He came out of his reverie and withdrew his flaccid penis from her warm, sticky vagina, feeling sudden embarrassment at its softness, and a vague uneasiness, now that the heat of passion had abated and reason was returning. He wondered if she knew how to take care of herself against pregnancy, but recalling her expert movements of only moments ago, he dismissed his fears. If she knew that much about sex acts, surely she would be smart enough to use preventative measures. Brady had read that many teen-agers took the pill-many of them with parental approval and help.
As Marty Wells stood up and slowly donned her clothing, the leer of victory returned to her face. Finished with her final preening, she held out her hand with a coy smile, her eyes mocking him. "My souvenir, please," she said calmly.
Reluctantly, Brady took it from its chain and handed it to her. She turned it over and over, smiling like a child with a new toy. She looked closely at the name he had engraved on the back, and the date he had received it.
In her mind's eye, she was envisioning the key on her bracelet of sex affairs. It was really something, this memento, not just a little gewgaw that could be bought for a couple of dollars. This showed her domination of an honest-to-god egghead-a real brain.
She stood on tiptoe and kissed him lightly on the lips. Without another word, she strutted from the room, leaving Brady to don his clothing in a semi daze. He still hadn't come down from the sexy cloud she had taken him to, but he already had misgivings about giving her his key. She had showed, a ruthless side, and he felt that she would use it to blackmail him if need be. He consoled himself with the thought that she had been something else-one of the most exciting girls he had ever encountered, and certainly, the youngest sexpot in his entire sexual calendar of events.
At home, Marty put the key on her bracelet, along with the gold giraffe, and that night, just before she went to sleep, she looked at it a long time, while she masturbated in the dimness, her whole mind and being filled with memories of Bill Brady and his most satisfying cock.
CHAPTER THREE
Marty eyed the bracelet with shining eyes, feeling an inner glow of accomplishment. But her brows knitted in a worried frown as she recalled the edginess of Bill Brady the last few days. He had been dropping sly hints that were designed to elicit from her, just what measures she had taken to avoid getting knocked up.
Now she was worried. She had run out of the pills, and she was in a strange community, with no one who might obtain a supply for her. She wondered momentarily if she ought to come right out and ask Brady to get her some, but she dismissed the thought. He was already worried enough, and, Marty thought, somewhat cool toward her. She figured him to be the kind who would panic and head for the hills, at the slightest hint of trouble. Thinking about him, she decided that he was sort of boring, except in a sexual way, and she turned her thoughts elsewhere to solve the problem of obtaining the pills.
She wondered idly about Ben, the curly-haired college student who always gave her the eye when she went into Harper's Drug Store. He might be the answer. He certainly would have access to birth-control pills. The more she pondered the advisability of it, the better she liked the idea-and for Marty, to make up her mind was to act as soon as possible.
Ben was a jack-of-all-trades at the store, and part of his duties entailed working in the cosmetics section, so Marty made a stop at the drugstore after school the next day. She knew that Ben started at three and worked until nine, when the store closed. She had also asked a few questions and learned that he was studying pharmacology, that he was Jewish, and that he lived in a small kitchenette apartment a block away from the drug store. His last name was Abrams, and now Ben Abrams was Marty's target for conquest. But this time, it would be a triple killing, she mused as she entered the store and spotted him behind one of the checkout lines, stacking cigarettes into the racks beside the cash register. There would be Ben himself; for sex, the pills, and also an item to add to her collection of mementos.
Marty entered the aisle where the cosmetics were displayed. She was pleased at the alacrity Ben showed in coming over to wait on her. A little smile lit her face as she noticed the pin he was wearing in his tie. It was a black-and-gold pin with Greek letters on it. Marty guessed that it was either a high school or a college fraternity pin, and she immediately envisioned how nice it would look on her charm bracelet. She smiled brightly as Ben approached, as she let her eyes rove over his slender body in an appraisal of his sexual capabilities.
"Hello," Ben said warmly. "What can I help you with?"
A sudden perversity took hold of Marty. She wondered what he would say if she asked right out for the birth-control pills. She looked at him straight in the eyes and said in an offhanded manner, "I want to get some pills."
"Oh ..." Ben said, looking disappointed. "I'm afraid you'll have to see the pharmacist, if it's a prescription. If it's just an off-the-shelf item, I'll be glad to help you."
"Well, I ..." Marty tried to put just the right dramatic pause to her speech, "... I wanted to get some of the contraceptive pills."
Ben's mouth fell open. "You ... you mean birth-control pills?" he spluttered, blushing.
Marty smiled knowingly. "Yes," she said calmly. "And I don't have a prescription." It was a challenge, and the smile faded from her mouth. She eyed Ben closely. He looked wild-eyed toward the rear of the store where the prescription department was. His head began to shake, but before he could put his refusal into words, Marty stepped close to him and brushed his trousers front with her hand. "Please ...?" she coaxed.
Ben stared back at her, aware of the jutting breasts that seemed to be unconfined beneath the thin sweater. Her hand still rested against his fly. He was sure of her implications, but Ben Abrams was a cautious man. His job here at the store meant the difference in getting his degree in pharmacy, and not. He didn't want to jeopardize his education, but this was some ripe stuff.
"I... I don't know ..." he hesitated.
"Please?" Marty repeated. "I won't let you be sorry." There was no doubt of her meaning as she rubbed her hand on his now hardening penis, through the cloth of his trousers. Ben took a deep breath then exhaled, like a person ready to plunge into an icy pool.
"Okay," he nodded. "Meet me tonight at a quarter past nine."
Marty grinned broadly and asked, "What's your address?"
Ben shook his head at her coolness and gave her his address. She bounced down the aisle happily, waving at him and calling, "I'll need at least three months' supply. See you." Then she was gone, leaving a befuddled clerk staring after her, his mind filled with the vision of her naked young body beneath his, later that night. He adjusted his penis so that it didn't bulge so obviously, and busied himself with his forgotten work.
* * *
Once he had committed himself and stolen the pills, Ben's attitude underwent a change. He decided that since he had already risked his job and his education, he was going to make certain of the pay-off.
When Marty knocked on his door that evening at precisely nine-twenty, Ben opened the door to her, wearing only a pair of jockey shorts. He noticed the fleeting look of surprise on her face, and he grinned in return. "You're on time," he said lamely. "Good. I like a girl that's prompt."
"Did you get them?" Marty asked breathlessly, as she began to peel off her sweater. She had expected there would be a sex bout, and she didn't want to be gone too long. Her aunt was growing fidgety about the hours she kept, along with her constant carping about everything else.
Ben nodded, his eyes fastened on her twin globes of milky flesh. The soft, pinkish nipples were already hardening, and he felt his own blood rushing to swell his cock-nor did Marty miss this fact. She reached up beneath her miniskirt and pulled off her pink panties, kicked off her shoes and then unzipped the skirt side and let it fall.
She was like a young Greek goddess, Ben thought as his hungry eyes roved over her trim, womanly form. His palms were sweaty, and he had forgotten everything else except the fact that this young nympho, half-girl, half-womanly siren, was here before him, offering her body to him.
Marty put her hands on her hips, striking a provocative pose. "Well...?" she smiled wantonly.
Ben moved toward her and took her into his arms. He felt the soft breasts against his chest, with the hardening nipples making themselves felt, and he opened his mouth to meet her sucking, demanding tongue kiss. As she flicked her tongue in and out of his mouth, Ben's hands slid downward to encircle the perfect roundness of her ass-cheeks, digging his fingernails into the soft flesh until he heard her wince and moan softly.
He released her and fell to his knees, burying his face in the softness of her pubic hair, his tongue slithering in among the fine hair until it found the wet, hot, woman-scented vagina. He again encircled her ass-cheeks with his wet palms, pulling her in closer, probing inside her cunt for the tiny knob of joy, then massaging it hungrily with his tongue and teeth.
Marty was emitting little sounds of pleasure, jutting her pelvis forward to allow his tongue easy entry into her throbbing cunt. For the moment, she had forgotten all about the pills and the pin-she wanted only the joys that Ben was bringing to her flesh. She looked down at his curly head, and put her hands on the back of it, pulling his face even closer to her joybox, loving the bright surge of passion that swept over her body with every movement of his seeking mouth.
Her ass began to buck in and out, meeting his tongue strokes in an ever-faster rhythm. As he nibbled and sucked at her clitoris, she abandoned her body to its own frenzied movements, clutching Ben's head and murmuring ecstatically, "I'm coming, Ben-suck it hard-faster -harder!"
With a moan, she exploded into orgasm, her clitoris bobbing madly under Ben's eager sucking. When she subsided, she drew back a little and pushed him down to the floor. As he lay on his back, staring up at her open snatch, enjoying the lustfulness of the scene, she knelt and pulled off his shorts. His cock sprang up like a released lever, slapping against his stomach, which was now wet with his sweat.
Marty spread his legs and knelt over his cock. Taking it in one hand, she began to run her soft, wet tongue around the rim of it, then let it rove the entire length of his distended organ, sending shivers of delight and need over his body. When she plunged her mouth over the head and let her hot, wet lips engulf its entire length, Ben could not keep back the groans of pure joy. Almost unconsciously, he reached down and inserted his fingers inside her lips, feeling her tongue shooting past them, caressing his cock and his fingers at the same time. Mary sucked harder as she removed her tongue from time to time to let it slide up and lick the palm of Ben's hand. With one hand, she held his shaft, and with the other, she rubbed his balls gently.
When she felt his need rise, as evidenced by his speeded-up motions and gasps, she applied all the friction that her tongue and lips and inner mouth could supply, and, as she felt Ben's gushing semen, she joined him in a moaning chorus of delight.
"Don't stop! Don't stop, please!" Ben moaned, holding her head fastened to his prick. Marty had no intention of stopping. She wanted the full hardness of Ben's cock inside her. In seconds, she had drained him of every drop of semen, swallowing it, cleaning up the end of his prick with her tongue. Then she worked her mouth furiously, making slurping sounds as she rammed his cock again and again deep into her mouth, sucking it and letting her teeth graze over the sensitive flesh of his glands.
"Wait!" Ben gasped. "I ... I want you the other way!"
Marty withdrew his cock from her mouth and smiled up at him. "Say it, Ben! Say what you want!" Her eyes were hot and shiny with suppressed desire.
"I ... I want to fuck you!" he blurted, reaching for her soft breasts and kneading them in his hands. She moved up between his legs until her body was flattened against his, their genitals pushing eagerly against each other's. Her hot mouth closed over his, and their tongues played fiery games as Ben reached down and spread her cunt lips to receive his aching prick. He had never wanted anything so badly in his life, as he wanted the full surrender of this wanton body to his own passions.
As his rigid prong slid easily into her vagina, Marty moaned and began to move her body up and down, plunging his cock deeper into her with each movement. Their mouths were still locked in a moist, hot kiss and, as his prick began to massage her throbbing clitoris with each stroke, neither needed words to express their lustful passion. Their bodies locked together in a rhythm of pleasure and as each felt the other approaching climax, they increased the hotness of their tongue kissing, exchanging saliva in abandonment, wanting to fuse their aching bodies into one mass of trembling, electrically charged flesh!
"I'm coming, darling, I'm coming," Marty mumbled through the kiss. Ben answered by biting her tongue hard, causing her to speed up her up-and-down motions even more and, as she felt him gushing into her pussy, Marty returned the bite savagely, enjoying the feeling of domination that the position atop Ben's body gave her. She had come twice while he was coming the first time, and now she abandoned her body to a complete, thrilling orgasm that matched Ben's.
They lay in the same position, moving slightly, enjoying the warm afterglow that fell over them like a blue mist.
At last, Marty raised her head and looked into Ben's eyes. "Sorry?" She coaxed, wanting to hear him praise her performance.
"Happier than I can tell you," Ben replied, kissing her chin. "You're the most wonderful thing I've ever had happen to me. I'd break into Fort Knox for you, if you asked me. Anything ... everything ... just ask for it!"
His words reminded Marty of one of her goals. She kissed him lightly and grinned. "There is something I'd like ... to remember a wonderful guy and a wonderful night."
"Name it!"
"That pin you wear ..." Marty said coyly.
"My Gamma Sigma pin?" Ben laughed. "Hell, I've been looking for a girl like you to pin that on for months. You've got it." She locked her mouth to his in a long, lingering kiss, stroking his curly black hair gently.
They dressed slowly, exchanging intimate kisses and tender looks, and when Ben handed Marty the pin, she planted a kiss on the cold metallic emblem, and clutched it to her breast. "I love it, Ben!" she enthused, "but ... I can't wear it in the open. My aunt ... well, she's funny about me dating. But I have a charm bracelet that's just mine. I keep it hid from everyone. Your pin will be my prize!"
Ben was still walking on air, and he hardly heard her explanation. "When will I see you again, Marty?" he asked.
"Soon, Ben," she said lightly, kissing him and putting the pin in her purse.
She was completely satisfied with her mission. She had enjoyed a particularly thrilling sex session with Ben; she had the pills-five boxes of them-and she had another souvenir for her collection. It had been a particularly interesting evening, and when Mary arrived home around eleven, she was angry to find her aunt waiting to talk to her.
Helen lit into her the second she closed the door, snarling, "A fine time for a girl your age to be coming in! Where have you been?"
"Out!" Marty retorted.
"Out where?" Helen persisted.
Marty's thin veneer of patience erupted. "Out getting a good fuck!" she screamed. At the loudness of her voice, Ray had entered the living room. At Helen's gasp, Ray frowned at Marty, saying gruffly, "Let's not have that kind of language around here, Marty. Your aunt has a right to know where you are this late at night."
"So ... I just told her!" Marty sneered.
"Come off it!" Ray snapped. He was uncomfortable under Helen's stare. He knew she expected him to administer some sort of punishment to Marty, but he wasn't sure how one punished a young teen-age girl.
"You'll have to change your attitude, Marty," he warned, "or you'll be kept in evenings."
"Evening!" Helen snorted. "Almost midnight isn't evening."
"I'll handle it!" Ray snarled at her. "Remember, times have changed since your strait-laced old man used to make you be home by ten!" Ray saw a smirk come to Marty's face. It bothered him. She always looked so smug, as if she had just won one more round of a long, drawn-out battle for supremacy of the household. He let his eyes run over her out thrust breasts and the slight, but provocative body. He wondered idly if she just might be telling the truth with her vulgar statement of having been fucked.
Sometimes she looked at him in a mocking way that seemed to ask when he was going to stop playing "Uncle," and become a lusty, forceful lover. He dismissed the thoughts of having her naked to his own body, and said mildly, "Better get to bed, Marty. You've got school tomorrow."
Helen left the room with a snort of disgust, disappointed that Ray had again let his niece off so easily. The girl was nothing but a tramp, Helen thought, but she could pull the wool over Ray's eyes-or any man's, for that matter. She wasn't fooling her, though. She was nothing but a cheap, hot pants sexpot and, given enough rope, she would fashion her own noose.
When Helen left the room, Ray's expression softened and he managed a slight grin. "Don't put me on the spot so much, kid," he cautioned. "I've got to live with that woman, you know."
Marty just smiled and walked up to her uncle. She held her face up and said, "Kiss me goodnight, Uncle!"
Ray clenched his fists, fighting back the desire to rip her clothes off her and fuck the daylights out of her. He was sure that somebody would soon, the way Marty seemed to ask for it, and he wondered why he didn't have the guts.
He bent and aimed a harmless kiss at her cheek, but she turned her face so that their lips met, and hers were wide open. In spite of himself, Ray slid his tongue into her waiting mouth, probing deep, meeting her own flicking tongue, sending spurts of desire shooting into his loins. His arms went around her and he felt her firm breasts pressing into his chest. Her pelvic mound was grinding into his own, and he let his hands fall so that they cupped her cute, round little ass. The heady feel of her young body almost destroyed his control but, with an effort, he pushed her away. He held her by the shoulders and looked into her smoky eyes.
"You devil!" Ray ground out. "You maybe just weren't kidding about out getting fucked, were you?"
Marty pulled from his grasp and danced away, smiling back at him, noticing the bulge that had appeared in the front of his trousers.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" she taunted. Then she disappeared into the hallway, her tinkling laughter echoing behind her. Ray stood staring after her, the feel of her body against his still tormenting him. In his eyes there was a calculating look. If she was as hot to trot as she implied, life was going to be an awful lot of fun from here on, he told himself.
In her room, Marty stripped to the buff and stepped in front of the huge, full-length mirror, admiring her shape, pinching and fondling her curves. She took the pin from her purse and went into the closet and took from the toe of one of her shoes, the charm bracelet. Her eyes glistened as she attached the pin to it and feasted her eyes on the growing collection. She only regretted that she couldn't wear the bracelet openly to proclaim to the whole town what a woman she had become. But she contented herself with just fondling it for a few moments, then returned it to its hiding place.
Suddenly she looked startled and went through her clothes which she had dropped in a pile beside the bed. Panic came to her eyes as she realized that she must have laid the paper bag with the birth-control pills down in the kitchen! Forgetting that she was nude, she dashed out of her room and down the hall, then into the kitchen. The bag was there on a small table just inside the door, where she had laid it when she had heard sounds coming from the living room, indicating that her aunt and uncle were still up.
With a sigh of relief, she grabbed the bag and darted for her bedroom. Just as she turned into her room, she caught a glimpse of Helen's face framed in the doorway of her own bedroom. Even in the dimness, Marty could make out the look of shock and anger that distorted her aunt's face. Once inside her room, she locked the door and grinned at her reflection in the mirror. If only Helen knew what was in that sack, and the meaning of the charm bracelet she had stashed away, she'd shit green!
Marty fell into a deep sleep quickly. She roamed in her dreams in a world of men, all with big hard-ons, all naked, groveling at her feet, begging for her sexual favors. But the only face that took form and brought recognition, was that of her Uncle Ray. Then the dream became a sudden nightmare as Ray crawled toward her, an offering in his hand, to be added to the heavily laden charm bracelet she dangled at him. She recoiled in sudden horror, snapping wide awake, wondering if she had screamed aloud.
The object that Ray was holding out to her had been a tiny gold miniature of a woman's body. Sticking into her abdomen was a knife, and the upthrust hilt of the weapon was in the form of a man's penis!
CHAPTER FOUR
Ray lay tossing restlessly in the gray of the dawn that stole in the window. He had been restless all night, and had awakened at five, alert, but with a headache that gnawed at his brain. He took a few moments to orient his thinking, wondering what had awakened him at this ungodly hour. Then it came to him with a rush as he realized that he had a tremendous hard-on; one that had been instigated by his dreams, and not the necessity to take a piss.
He recalled the feel of Marty's tongue in his mouth, and her tits pressing against him; the way her round little ass had felt as his hands encircled it. It had been she in his dreams, but he had awakened too soon. He was about to mount her naked body when he had snapped wide awake.
He glanced over at Helen, making a wry face at the comparison between her tired, aging face and the fresh eagerness of Marty's.
Ray edged quietly out of bed so as not to awaken his sleeping wife, and started for the bathroom. But he continued on past the door and paused outside Marty's door, listening. Hearing nothing, he eased open the door and peered inside. In the false color of the predawn, she looked like a doll laying in her bed. She was totally naked and had kicked off the thin covers, exposing her breasts, her flat stomach, and the full expanse of her pubic area.
She had twisted so she lay on her back, legs spread, with one arm dangling over the edge of the bed. Ray eased inside the room and walked over and stared down at her hungrily, more aware than ever of his symbol of desire for her-his stiff prick that bulged out his shorts. He wanted to feel the taste of those nipples, of his tongue running along her navel, her thighs, then into the gates of her womanhood.
Marty stirred slightly, drawing one leg up so that it opened her crotch even wider and exposed the pinkish-brown of her asshole. Standing there, staring at this lush young temptress, Ray clenched his hands in a gesture of frustration. With one last, lustful look, he whirled and quietly left, closing the door behind him.
He had to have her! If he didn't, he would explode. His desire for her body was even interfering with what lust he still felt for Helen. Stolid, unimaginative Helen, whose idea of daring sex was to allow him to lick her vulva before climbing aboard her tense, uncooperative body in the same old, old-fashioned position he had always used. She thought any other position other than him atop her was obscene. Nor would she even consider sucking his cock to arouse him or to bring him to climax. It was only after three years of marriage that she had allowed him to kiss her body below the breasts.
As he crawled into bed again, Ray looked at Helen, wondering what in hell he had ever seen in her. She was about as exciting as a sixty-year-old whore. He managed to thrust the image of Marty's naked body from his mind and he fell into a fitful sleep that was peopled by hundreds of naked nymphs, all with the faces of his niece.
Ray awoke to the sound of the shower, and, feeling Helen's body beside him, he knew it must be Marty in the shower. His thoughts went instantly to her naked body, and he knew he could sleep no longer. Lust for her was becoming like a disease inside him, eating away at his guts. He got up and dressed for work, then went into the kitchen and put on coffee. He heard the shower stop and, in the hope of catching a glimpse of her as she went to her room, he struck his head around the corner and peered down the hall. To his surprise, Marty stared back at him from the bathroom doorway.
"Ray, will you bring me a clean towel?" she said in a sotto voice that was half whispered.
Ray felt uncomfortable, having been caught spying, but he walked to the linen closet and got a huge, fluffy towel and walked to the bathroom door. He expected to see her at least partially wrapped in a towel or something, but Marty stood there nude, inspecting her face in the mirror. She smiled at him as she reached for the towel. Ray couldn't take his eyes from her lovely form. Her pert, upthrust breasts were ripe for a man's mouth, and her near-perfect body was a beckoning garden of pleasure.
"Thanks," Marty said offhandedly, taking the towel.
"It's okay," Ray mumbled. "Anything else?"
"You could dry my back." She looked at him archly. Ray glanced over his shoulder, thinking he had heard a noise from his bedroom, and quickly shook his head.
"No guts?" Marty taunted. "Like last night?"
Ray wasn't sure whether she was referring to his kissing her, or whether she had only pretended to be asleep when he had crept into her bedroom.
As if reading his thoughts, Marty said softly, "I knew you were in my room this morning. What was the matter? Don't you get turned on at all by all this?" She turned so that he could see her entire front, and for some odd reason, it made him angry. Analyzing his emotions quickly, he realized that he was angry because she had hit a sore spot. He had wanted her badly, but he hadn't the courage to take her. He tried to tell himself that it was using good common sense, with Helen sleeping so close. His marriage would come apart like an exploding flywheel if Helen suspected Ray had even kissed her as hotly as he had.
Ray whirled and stalked out of the bathroom and back to the kitchen. He poured some hot coffee and sat brooding over it at the kitchen table. He wondered how long he could continue to keep his hands off his niece, to maintain a semblance of marriage. For a fleeting instant, he contemplated the alternative of just taking her and to hell with Helen! Or, he could run away with her-sell the garage and just let Helen chase him to hell and gone!
Helen appeared in the doorway, drowsily scratching her matted, snarled hair. She yawned, "Want me to pack a lunch, honey?"
Ray shook his head. "I'll eat at the diner. Go on back to bed."
Helen poured herself some coffee, sipped at it until she seemed fully awake. The softness had left her face and her tone as she said sharply, "Ray, you've got to do something about Marty!"
It was ironic, Ray thought, how right Helen was. He did have to do something about his niece-and soon. But not what Helen was suggesting.
"Yeah, I will," Ray nodded, his thoughts far away-at least as far away as Marty's bedroom.
"She acts like a tramp."
"Aw, come off it. She's just a healthy kid, feeling the first hot blood of puberty. Christ, weren't you ever a teen-ager, Helen?"
"You needn't curse!" Helen whined. "And she's not acting like a normal teen-ager. She's boy crazy! I guess man crazy would be better. I see the way she looks at you, and you always take her part. I'm just about fed up with having a young tramp in my house!"
"Don't forget," Ray snarled, "it's my house, too!"
"Then be the man of the house! Do something about her, before it's too late-before she gets pregnant or something."
Ray stood up and put his empty cup in the sink. "I'll see you tonight," he said, grabbing his jacket from a chair. He left without kissing her good-bye, and Helen sat brooding over her second cup of coffee until Marty appeared, fresh and bright-looking, fully dressed for school.
"There's cereal there if you want to fix breakfast," Helen said sourly, rising and walking out.
"Thanks a lot," Marty said sarcastically, then, under her breath, "You cold-assed bitch!"
* * *
It was to be a hectic and eventful day for all three members of the household, and Helen was the first to be involved. After showering and dressing, she glanced into Marty's room to check on its orderliness. The bed was made and there were no clothes scattered about. As Helen started to close the door, she spied a bright green paper sack. She knew it came from Harper's Drug Store, without even reading the printing on it. It was lying on a night stand near Marty's bed, and she wondered what could have been in it. Probably cosmetics that Marty was sneaking in, in spite of Helen's constant objections to her using so much makeup.
Helen idly opened the drawer in the night-stand and stepped back in surprise. She reached in and took out a round, plastic container and opened it. Inside, with small numerals marking the spaces occupied by the pellets, were nineteen birth-control pills! One had already been used.
Hurriedly returning the flat container to the drawer, Helen rushed to the phone and called Ray. When she heard his laconic "Hello," she immediately launched into a tirade of invective, pointing out her many suspicions about Marty's sex morality, and ending with a triumphal, flat accusation, all verified in her thinking, by her discovery of the birth-control pills.
Ray listened impatiently as his wife ended her oration with the demand: "Now I want something done about her as soon as you get home tonight! I mean it! I'm not harboring any whore in my home!"
She hung up, leaving Ray with a puzzled expression. His thoughts were far from punishing measures for Marty. They were all involved with how he might take advantage of this heartening bit of news. The kid knew how to take care of herself, and that would be a big load off his mind. But as he busied himself about the shop, he was filled with a wonder as to where and how she had managed to obtain the contraceptives. Knowing his brassy niece, he wondered if she had traded sex for the pills. After all, she had told Helen that she had been out fucking! Ray put her out of his thoughts with the conclusion that, if Marty was passing it out, he wanted his share, and he wracked his brain to figure out a safe way to screw her without jeopardizing his marriage or his place in the community.
He busied himself until after three, and he was still at a loss as to what course to pursue in his seduction of Marty.
* * *
Marty had been intrigued by the note she had received from Bill Brady. It said simply that he had to see her immediately after school was out. She walked to his tiny office and knocked, entering without waiting to hear his voice bidding her to come in. Inside, she closed the door and leaned against it, her breasts jutting out, her hips at a provocative angle, her eyes hard and challenging. She was making a mental comparison between Brady and Ben Abrams and, in her imagination, comparing both with her uncle, as sex partners.
"So?" Marty asked with a rising inflection and a shrug.
"I-I just wanted to find out how much it would cost me to get my key back." Brady was brusque, trying to throw off the hot desires that were forming within him as he looked at Marty.
Marty laughed raucously. "No way! Nooooo way! It's mine!"
"It can't be yours," Brady snapped harshly. "Those things have to be earned!"
Marty giggled, "I earned it, didn't I?"
Brady's face grew livid. "With brains you earn them, not with your ass!"
"You go your route and I'll go mine," she snickered.
"I want it back! You can't ever wear it! Just give me your price."
"No deal! No way."
Brady stood up, fists clenched. "You little bitch! I ought to tell your parents on you!" he thundered.
"You wouldn't dig them up just for that?" Marty countered. She backed up and turned the doorknob, opening the door a bit. "You lose, Brady. And, speaking of telling somebody about us, what if I were to spill the story? What do you think they'd do to you-slap your wrist? Stop all the horseshit. And," she eyed him with disdain, "please don't send me any more notes. Okay?" She opened the door and left.
"If I ever see you with it on," Brady roared after her, "I'll rip it off you and shove it up your cunt!"
He was still in a foul mood when he stopped for his sports car that was being tuned up at the Downtown Garage. He pulled the "loaner" to a halt near the open doors, spotting his car inside. He climbed out and was heading for the tiny office when he stopped short, staring. Marty Wells was coming out of the front door of the place. Behind her stood the owner of the shop- Ray something or other, Brady knew, because he had his first name emblazoned on the pocket of his coveralls. Marty swung jauntily up the street, not seeing him as Brady stared after her, angry at himself because of the lust she aroused in him with the provocative swaying of her ass as she walked.
As he entered the office, he thought to himself that if his car wasn't ready as promised, he'd give somebody hell. It would do him good to blow off some steam. Ray smiled at him in a somewhat sheepish way and picked up an itemized bill from the top of the desk. "All set, Mr. Brady," he said warmly.
Brady was wondering what the little whore, Marty, had been doing in the office. Ray looked rugged and young enough for her to go for. But, it wasn't any of his business. Or-was it? After all, Brady reasoned, somebody should blow the whistle on a little hustler like her.
"You can tell me it's none of my damned business," he said hurriedly, "but-you'd better watch your step with that young stuff that just left here. I know."
Ray eyed him quizzically. The man obviously didn't know that Marty was his niece. Nor could he know that Marty had stopped to explain about the birth-control pills, after he had called her at school and told her of Helen's discovery of the pills, and her angry reaction. Actually, Ray had stressed to Marty not to continue the cold war with Helen, because she was running out of patience, and Ray couldn't act as a peacemaker much longer.
Marty had laughed it off, as Ray was afraid she would, and had ended up by giving him her most seductive smile and asking, "Now, you wouldn't throw a nice little girl like me out in the street, would you, Uncle Ray?"
So Ray decided to hear whatever this Brady guy had to say.
"What do you mean?" he asked innocently.
"I mean she's a hustler-a little blackmailer. Oh, she puts out, all right. She likes sex like most kids her age like ice cream sodas. But she's no young chick when it comes to collecting what she wants!" He was almost boastful at the end.
Ray frowned. "You mean she ... takes money?"
"Yes, that too," Brady went on. "But she's a 'collector'. She collects things from men. It's a mania with her. She says she has a charm bracelet she is filling with her sex mementos."
"What did you go for?" Ray asked.
Brady flushed slightly and shuffled his feet. "Well, she got a college pin. But I tried to buy it back and she wouldn't even name a price. It's no good to her-it's a Phi Beta Kappa key-an honor-society award."
Ray was nodding thoughtfully. "Well, thanks for the tip. She was just in here to ... to inquire when her dad's car would be ready," he lied.
He tendered the bill to Brady, saying, "That'll be thirty-two seventy, Mr. Brady. You'll be happy with that little bug now, I know. But if anything doesn't seem right, bring her back in and we'll make it right."
Brady looked as if he had more to say, but he presented an oil credit card to Ray and, after it was receipted, left without any further word.
Ray stood staring after the disappearing sports car, nodding his head. It was beginning to make some sense now-the careless attitude that Marty had developed. Her unconcern for the rules. She had probably lied every time that she said she was at a movie, or at a girl friend's, doing school work, and so on.
But it wasn't that that was bothering Ray. It was that he had all this ripe young cunt at his beck and call, and he had allowed silly moral views to prevent him from getting his share of some good fucking. No more! Now that the melon was cut, Ray wanted in on the good meat inside. Maybe he would play Marty's own game-apply a little pressure on her to put out to him, or to get out at Helen's insistence.
Thinking about Helen caused Ray to remember that he doubtless faced a nasty scene at home. He'd have to handle both Marty and his wife with kid gloves, to keep the powder-keg situation from exploding in his face. Helen was at the end of her patience, and the birth-control pills had clinched it, in her mind. She wanted Marty out of her house and that meant that she would probably be more watchful and suspicious than ever of her.
When Ray arrived home, he entered in the middle of a tirade from Helen, being delivered in harsh tones to his niece.
"... and don't think I haven't seen you playing up to Ray!" Helen was shouting. "I want no more of it! When you're not in your room, I want you fully dressed ... not running around the house naked, shoving your body at my husband! Is that clear?"
Ray stepped into the room, turning angrily to Helen. "I told you I'd take care of this!" he stormed. "Don't forget, she's got some rights. Her way is paid, and she's not a baby, you know!"
"I'll say she isn't!" Helen retorted. "Look at her, sitting there sneering at us-half dressed. She's ... she's a common slut!"
Ray knew that Helen was really on the warpath. Slut was a pretty strong epithet for her. He turned to face the indolent stare of Marty. "What's all this about you having some kind of pills-birth-control pills?" Ray tried to look and sound gruff, but it came off badly.
"Old snoopy found some in my room, where she's got no business to be!" Marty said smugly. "It's none of her business-nor yours either. If you must know, I'm keeping them for a girl at school. That answer your question?"
Ray shook his head in wonder at the brazenness of her lie. She manufactured lies as easily as she breathed. He met her challenging gaze and his eyes were the first to unlock the engagement.
"I think we do have a say in your behavior," Ray said firmly. "I am your legal guardian, you know!"
"So, guard me already!" she taunted.
"I already flushed the pills down the toilet!" Helen cut in. "And if I find anything more like that, I'm calling the authorities and packing you out of here to some home. Either you'll do as we say, or you'll live somewhere else. Ray and I have a good name in this town, and we intend to keep it!"
Ray waved a hand to silence his wife. Marty was elated. Helen hadn't found the rest of the pills, or she'd have been bragging about it. Marty decided that the use of discretion at this point was wisest. After all, things were just getting interesting with Ray, and, once he had fucked her or she had sucked him off, she had no more problems. Between them, they could handle Helen all right.
"I ... guess I was stupid to bring them home," she said grudgingly, averting her eyes to hide the triumphant leer in them.
Helen seemed dismayed that Marty didn't fight back viciously and provide her with an excuse to get rid of her. Ray turned to her, saying, "All right, let's let it drop. She said she's sorry-that it was just a stupid favor for a girl at school. Let's eat. I'm hungry."
As he headed for the bathroom, Marty went to her room, leaving Helen to set the table with loud slammings to indicate that she wasn't satisfied with the easy letdown given Marty. But peace prevailed at the dinner table, and while they were still finishing their meal, the phone rang. Ray answered it and called, "It's Tom, my foreman. He's in a jam for a babysitter and wants to know if Marty could help him out."
Helen and Marty exchanged cold glances, then Helen answered, "Tell him all right, but you'll take her there, and you'll bring her home-and no later than midnight!"
Ray relayed the information, nodded, and hung up.
"Seven o'clock," he told Marty. "They're just going to a movie with another couple."
Marty nodded. She was looking forward to the ride to and from the babysitting job with Ray. She'd make him squirm when she got him alone!
Ray had some ideas of his own, and they had no more than pulled out of the driveway before he said to Marty, "You're getting to be pretty cocky, aren't you?"
"Nothing I can't handle," Marty replied breezily.
"I'm not talking about Helen-I'm talking about some of the guys that you've been fooling with."
Marty frowned, puzzled at his reference. "Like who?"
"Like Mr. Brady, the teacher. You remember him-the guy with the Phi Beta Kappa key?" It was his turn to be sarcastic.
"The sonofabitch finked to you, huh?"
"Not really," Ray said easily, enjoying the position of being in the driver's seat momentarily. "He just made a comment about you. He saw you leaving my office today when he came for his car. What's it all about?"
"So, he gave me his key and now he wants it back. I won't give it to him. That's all."
"How did you get it in the first place?"
Marty giggled and said, "Didn't old big-mouth tell you that you have to 'earn' those things?"
"Don't be a smartass! I'm not as dumb as Helen."
"Well then, you figure it out!" She spat it out, and sat sideways in the seat, her mocking gaze on him.
"That doesn't take any brains. And I'm not concerned about him, or anybody else. I'm just the guy who isn't knocking a good fuck-I just want to get in on the deal!" Ray enjoyed using the word "fuck," and seeing her look of amazement. She recovered quickly and assumed that taunting smile.
"Christ, Uncle," she said, "I thought you'd never get around to making a play." She bent over and kissed his cheek, running her hand quickly up his thigh and grasping his rapidly hardening cock in her hand. "Now we can clear the air and have a little fun around the house!"
Before he realized what she was doing, she had unzipped his fly and had his swollen tool in her hand. She pulled it out and played with it, almost making him lose control of the car. "Christ! Take it easy. There's plenty of better places than this!" Ray protested, slowing the car.
"With old snoopy-drawers around? You're kidding. She'll never give us a chance to be alone."
"We'll find ways," Ray said confidently, squirming under her hot hand. She bent her head and engulfed the head of his prick in her warm, soft mouth, sucking hard, running her tongue around the head of it. Then she released it as quickly, shoved it back in his pants and zipped up his zipper. Sitting away from him, she smiled devilishly. "That's a sample of what you'll be missing, Uncle!" Marty laughed.
CHAPTER FIVE
It was a restless evening for Ray, filled with the anticipation of finishing what Marty had started in his car on the way to Tom's. Ray felt no qualms now, about going all the way with his niece. She was wide-open cunt, as far as he was concerned. The thought or word, "incest," never even crossed his mind. A screw was a screw, a willing cunt had no surname or blood ties, in Ray's thinking.
His only cloudy thought stemmed from the thoughts of what might happen if Helen caught on. Ray didn't exactly love Helen in the same uncontrolled, demanding way that he had when they were dating, and now, he realized that it was her very unavailability-her unwillingness to engage in any sex play or act, that had supplied the spurt to his emotions. He had, in fact, married her to prove to her that he was going to break her cherry, and moreover, he was going to turn her into a full, warm, sexy woman. But it had never worked out that way. Helen was too hung up on Victorian sex taboos to ever change. She had been a good wife-until Marty came along. Nothing special in bed, but at least, an outlet for his sex needs.
Ray had never deliberately gone out looking for a strange piece of ass, but there had been times when he had wanted and needed a variety of sex positions and acts, when he had made trips to motels with some of the local whores and bar pickups. Now, Marty was in his home, promising to give him all the sexual fulfillment he had ever wanted, using any position, with no act taboo.
He was justified in taking advantage of the chance, he felt. Why not? Everybody else seemed to be doing it. It would be different if Helen were exciting, or daring enough to try something new and different in bed.
But Ray was figuring without the insatiable sexual appetite of Marty Wells, and he completely ignored the fact that Tom, his employee, was in the same boat that he was. If he would have remembered, he'd have known that Tom had dropped many hints during idle "man talk," that warned his home sex life had grown boring as hell, and that he too was on the prowl. Had Ray thought it through, he'd have seen that putting the young sexpot in a position of proximity to Tom, was like putting a spluttering, live, fast-burning fuse next to an open powder keg.
But Ray was too engrossed in his own thoughts about his coming sex sessions to care about anyone else. This little sex machine had been tormenting him for weeks, and he wasn't about to wait any longer, no matter what the consequences were for him or for her.
* * *
Meantime, Tom's wheels had been spinning rapidly, and he had seen the wide-open challenge in Marty's look, when he was talking about what she could and couldn't do around the modest house, concerning the kids, what to eat, no boyfriends, and so on. His wife always left that part up to him because she was usually running fifteen minutes late for any engagement, due to excessive preening before her mirror. Even though they were only going to a movie, where no one would see her, like tonight, she had to go out as a fashion plate.
Tom didn't miss the way Marty had looked him up and down as if appraising his virility. What he didn't know was that she was appraising him, but not his manhood; she was assessing him for what she could wrest from him, once she had him hooked. And she had no doubts that he would be an easy mark. She could tell by the way he eyed her breasts and fanny, and the reddening of his face when she caught his eyes locked on her body.
Just to make sure, Marty dropped a couple of innuendo's.
She instinctively seemed to know the weak and vain spots in him-one of which was his bald head. Tom had been bald since he was in his late twenties, and it had caused him to let the rest of his body go to fat. Once a fine athlete, he was now tubby, but still a fairly good-looking man, when he dressed well and turned on his charm.
"You look awfully young to be so bald," Marty observed candidly.
"Yeh-" Tom said in minor embarrassment. "Been that way for years."
"I've heard that bald-headed men are extra sexy," Marty giggled, challenging him with her stare.
"I-I don't know," Tom stammered, "but I guess I can hold my own."
"I wonder?" She let it hang in the air, like a fisherman's lure. She knew he would bite. If not tonight, then soon.
Tom reddened and glanced at the bedroom door. "Well, uh, I guess we'll be going pretty quick. You'll be able to handle things, won't you?"
Marty stared into his eyes and said levelly, "I can handle anything."
When Mary appeared a few seconds later, Tom had still not found the courage to pick up the gauntlet she had tossed at his feet. With a few more instructions, the couple left, but not before Marty had again managed to get in a thrusting look and a provocative smile.
* * *
Tom paid no attention to the movie. He was wracking his brains as to how he could make an early evening of it, so he could drive Marty home. She had disturbed him like no woman had for years. He was positive he hadn't misread her implications. She was ripe for plucking, and he had been ready for strange stuff for years.
When the first picture of the double feature ended, Tom urged Mary to leave with him and skip the second feature. He said he had a bad headache, and that his eyes were bothering him. After a few protests, Mary agreed. Thus, almost two hours earlier than they had planned, they returned home. When they let themselves in, Marty was watching TV. The children were in bed and asleep, and although Marty evinced some surprise for Mary's benefit, she exchanged a glance with Tom which said clearly, "Good man. I knew you would figure something out!"
She got her sweater and Mary stood eying her abbreviated skirt that revealed shapely thighs and just a hint of the curve of her ass-cheeks. It flashed across her mind that Helen was a fool, allowing a blatant sexpot like her to pretty much do as she pleased-especially with a good-looking husband like Ray around.
She even offered to drive Marty home, pointing out that Tom had a headache, but he quickly maintained that he would be fine. He even asked Mary if she thought it fair to pay Marty for the full four hours that they had agreed to in the beginning, and Mary agreed. After they had left, she stood looking at the door they had closed, wondering if her husband was still susceptible to a green, young thing like Marty. She dismissed the thought, remembering how disinterested Tom had been in sex for many months now.
In the car, Tom smiled over at Marty. She sat with her miniskirt pulled high, legs slightly apart, so that he could catch a glimpse of her panties. Once out of Mary's sight, Tom regained the nerve he had been building carefully, all evening long.
"Want to go right home?" he asked, trying to sound innocent.
"What did you have in mind?" Marty asked indolently, her black eyes probing his expression in the dimness.
"Oh-" Tom shrugged, "Maybe a hamburger-something like that."
Marty lowered her eyelids provocatively. "Is that what you really want?"
He glanced quickly at her to see if she were putting him on, but he knew by her tone that she wasn't. She was looking straight at him now, a mocking smile curving her pert mouth. He decided to take the bull by the horns.
"Well, no," he said, clearing his throat. "I ... I sort of thought we could ... take a ride."
Marty laughed softly. "I guess you did get the message, after all," she said.
Encouraged, Tom grinned boyishly at her as he turned onto a road that led out into a secluded area. Marty's eyes were on the ring on his right hand, an expensive-looking fire opal. She was already envisioning how it would look on her bracelet, or among her mementos.
"That's a beautiful ring," she ventured.
"Yeah. Birthday present from Mary. I've had it a long time."
"Could I have it?" Marty made it sound like a demand rather than a question.
"Well, I ... don't know ..." Tom said lamely.
"Because, if I can't," Marty continued as if he hadn't replied, "you can turn around and forget it!"
He pulled the car to the side of the road, near a cluster of trees that formed a natural arbor with their overhanging limbs. His mind was racing. This kid wasn't as naive as she had seemed. She was demanding a pretty high price, for he'd have a hell of a time explaining the missing ring to Mary. Then too, he had become quite attached to it. It was a beautiful ring, and he had worn it proudly.
"Like that, huh?"
"Just like that!" Marty said calmly. She was aware that her skirt now revealed her crotch clearly, and she sounded confident.
"You little bitch!" Tom exploded. "You know how much I need a good piece of ass from you, don't you?"
"Yes, so why argue over a silly ring?"
Tom heaved a sigh of resignation. "Okay, get out."
Marty giggled. "The ring, first." As he twisted it off his finger and handed it to her, Marty leaned towards him and stuck her tongue into his mouth, making him jump and grab her in his arms, his hands exploring the softness of her breasts. He dug his own tongue deep into her mouth and as she sucked it in, nipping it slightly with her teeth, he knew he wasn't going to be sorry. He let one hand slide up between her opened thighs and rest of the soft, warm mound of her cunt. His finger rubbed the already wet lips of it through the flimsy material of her panties, and he hooked a finger onto the elastic at the top and tugged at them.
Marty was out of his embrace and had the door opened in a flash, and she walked toward the shelter of the trees, wriggling out of her sweater as she walked. When he scrambled out and ran after her, she turned and revealed her luscious young breasts, soft and tantalizing in the faint light of the moon and stars. She dropped her sweater and slipped out of her miniskirt and panties in one movement.
Tom's hands trembled as he took off his pants and shorts. He couldn't tear his eyes from the ripe, alluring young body. It had been so long-so awfully long, since he had been aroused as he was now, he thought. His cock was standing out stiff and strong, bouncing slightly as he walked to her and took her in his arms. He bent to kiss her neck, then moved quickly to her nipples, fondling one breast with his hand while he sucked and nibbled at the other with his mouth. Her flesh felt cool, but he could sense the rising passion inside her. She ran her fingers across his lips as he sucked on her breast, and he fell to his knees, letting his hands slip down to cover her ass-cheeks. She spread her legs slightly, and he used one hand to spread her cunt lips wide. Like a hungry tiger, he closed his mouth over her cunt, loving the taste of her, the feel of her hot, wet pussy as his mouth sucked at its depths, while his tongue probed inside until he found her clit. He tongued it, pulling her body closer with his one hand, while he shoved one finger up into the deeper parts of her cunt, moving it about, making Marty writhe and moan at the delicious feeling. She liked the scratchy feeling of his beard as he moved his face up and down to allow his tongue deeper access to her pussy.
"Make me come, Tom!" she pleaded, accommodating her own pelvic thrusts to his flicking tongue and probing finger. "Suck me until I come!"
Tom was making animal noises as he abandoned himself to the long-denied thrill of feeling his mouth filled with young cunt! Forgotten was the ring, and Mary, who had given it to him. All Tom wanted was to please and possess this fiery, teasing girl. He wanted to bury his face inside her cunt, feel her throb under his sucking mouth, feel the jumping clit as she came. It had been a long time since he had wanted to give-it had been a long, dry spell of only hoping that he could gain some measure of sexual relief from Mary.
Marty was making him alive again, aware of his manhood. It was standing at attention, throbbing with the need to bury his cock deep into her cunt, to prove to himself and to her, that he was still a hell of a good man in the fucking department. He bit and sucked, thrilling to the movements of her young, tender body, as she came, uttering a little cry of joy, clutching the back of his head tightly with both hands, as he slowly abated the sucking and biting movements, feeling her shudder as he added the finishing touches to her orgasm.
She stepped away and quickly lay on her skirt and sweater. Marty spread her legs wide, running her hands over her breasts and stomach, murmuring, "Fuck me, Tommy. Give me every inch of that wonderful prick! Fuck me-and hurry!" In his eagerness, Tom merely crawled on his hands and knees to her prostrate body. He feasted his eyes on the wetly glistening pussy and the hardened, upthrust nipples. He moved inside her spread legs, his cock in his hands, and lowered himself so he could shove it into her waiting cunt. He jumped involuntarily as she reached down and helped guide the head of it into her waiting portals. Once it had penetrated the gates of pleasure, Tom lost control of himself. He began to pump hard, plunging it deep inside her with every lunge of his body, almost as if he were afraid she would try to get away.
But Marty had no intentions of curtailing the action. She was being excited more by every move Tom made, and she thought, incongruously, of the remark she had teased him with about bald-headed men being sexier. Maybe they were, if Tom was a sample of them.
At first, Tom had been supporting his weight on his knees, but now he relaxed completely, and was bringing grunts from Marty as his full weight drove home each cock lunge. She wrapped her legs around him and he slid his hands behind her, so that he could play with her asshole with one of his fingers.
As they both abandoned their bodies to their lust, they became a writhing, moaning mass of flesh, grunting and gasping at the thrilling contact each was making with the organs of the other. Marty bit the lobe of Tom's ear, then shoved her tongue deep into it, feeling him shrink away at its hot touch. Faster and faster they moved, until with a cry of sheer ecstasy, Marty let her clitoris buck and bounce in perfect rhythm with Tom's ramrod. They exploded at the same time, gasping, saying unintelligible words, completely lost in the rush of passion that flooded their bodies.
As Tom relaxed, Marty moved her hips in a circular motion, coaxing his prong erect again inside moments. When they resumed the rhythm of intercourse, they locked mouths, plunging tongues meeting sucking mouths. The orgasm was much quicker for Marty, and after she had come again, she concentrated on using the inner muscles of her vagina to bring added rapture to Tom. A moment after he shot a load of semen into her again, Marty erupted in a series of violent bucks, and her last orgasm was the best of all!
They lay in each other's embrace for long moments, saying nothing, bathing in the soft afterglow of sexual fulfillment.
But already, Marty was thinking about Ray's reaction to Tom bringing her home. She hoped he wouldn't take it out on Tom during the course of their work, but that was really none of her business. She coldly wondered if she had read Ray's thoughts correctly-that this was going to be the night he would throw off all his inhibitions and really get with it.
She had already chalked Tom up as a conquest, and she never had wasted time on dead issues.
As they parted and dressed, each was silent. Tom seemed almost embarrassed, now that the flames of lust had subsided. In the long run, he wondered, had she been worth it? She was hot enough. She had given him the best screw he could remember since his early youth, yet, she threatened to create complications that he wasn't sure he could handle, or would want to face. The ring was bound to cause trouble. He suddenly wondered what would happen if Ray saw his ring in Marty's possession. And what would he tell Mary?
On the silent ride to Ray's, Tom broke the silence only once. He said plaintively, "Do me a favor, Marty. Don't let Ray see my ring. Okay?"
She patted his arm fondly and mumbled, "Okay," and when he pulled to the curb and let her out, they parted with the coolness that would be normal in an uncomplicated situation of a father taking a babysitter home. So cool were they, that he completely forgot that he owed her money, and she evidently had also, for she waved cheerily and danced up the walk and into the front door.
Ray and Helen were watching TV, and they looked up in surprise as she walked in. "They only stayed to see one picture," Marty explained. She noted the frown that twisted Ray's brow. He wanted to ask a dozen questions, but he said nothing. Helen looked at her watch and said shortly, "You'd better get to bed. It's late." She stood up and walked toward the kitchen, saying to Ray, "We'd better get some sleep, too. Besides, that program is dull." Without replying, Ray rose and snapped off the TV.
He didn't look at Marty as she smiled and headed for the bathroom. Helen called after her, "Don't take all night in the bathroom, either."
Marty barely washed, then she urinated and went to her own room. There, she extracted the ring she had just earned, and got out the balance of her collection, holding it up against the other souvenirs, thinking it a handsome addition that was probably worth much more than the rest put together.
She heard a noise outside her door and hastily shoved the collection under her pillow. She turned as the door opened and saw Ray standing there, glaring at her. From the bathroom, she heard the sounds of the shower running, and she knew that Ray had dared to come to her room only because Helen was showering.
"What the hell are you pulling?" Ray blurted.
Marty looked innocent, but she smiled devilishly. "I couldn't help it if they came home early," she alibied.
"If they only saw one picture, you and Tom sure had a hell of a long ride home!" Ray accused.
Marty shrugged.
"What were you two doing?" he persisted.
"Ask him," she replied disdainfully. They heard the shower stop, and Marty began to take off her sweater, looking tauntingly at her uncle as she let just the barest glimpse of her breasts show.
"I'll be talking to you about this some more," Ray said curtly. He hastily shut the door and she heard him open the bathroom door. Then she heard the muted sounds of Helen and him talking-in loud, grating voices.
She pulled out her collection and quickly attached the ring to the bracelet, admiring it until the last second before she slipped it into its hiding place. She stripped and lay on the bed. She put the light out and stared into the dimness, reliving the events of the evening. Almost without thinking, she slid her hand down to her pussy and began to masturbate, breathing heavily as she recalled the satisfaction of Tom's mouth on her cunt, and later, his big, cunt-filling cock inside her. She had an orgasm, then got under the covers, falling asleep quickly.
CHAPTER SIX
Ray tossed restlessly, waiting for Helen to fall asleep. She had told him that she was going to be busy most of the next day with a bazaar that one of her clubs was holding, and that she would try to be home in time to fix his supper. Then, with a perfunctory peck on the cheek, she had rolled over and in a few moments, she was asleep.
Ray had to talk to Marty. The little bitch was driving him up the walls, with her open come-on. He knew in his bones that Tom had been messing with her, and it made him angry that an older man, and a baldy yet, had scored with Marty before he had.
The game was over now, he vowed to himself. If she was going that route, then he was going to get his share of her ass, and to hell with Helen or anything else.
When Helen was soundly asleep, half snoring, he eased from the bed and tiptoed to the door and opened it softly. He went down the hall and opened Marty's door, slipping quickly inside. She was asleep, and he shook her gently by the shoulder, watching her breasts gently roll in the dim light, under his touch. He was tempted to just jump into bed, rape the shit out of her, and get it out of his system, but he caught himself just as he was about to yank the remaining covers from her nude body.
He placed a hand over her mouth, in case she should be startled and make a noise to waken Helen, and then he called her name softly. Her eyes fluttered open, then darted up to meet his, a blank look in their dark depths. When she saw that it was Ray, she relaxed and removed his hand from her mouth.
"I've got to talk fast. Helen will be away all day tomorrow. You leave for school-but don't go. Come back here. I'll pretend I'm going to work, and I'll be back here by nine-thirty. Okay?"
A soft smile came to Marty's mouth, but instead of softening it, it imparted a harsh look of triumph. She said softly, "Okay, Uncle."
Ray wanted to slap the smirk from her face, but instead, he bent and kissed her exposed breast, then her opened mouth. He quickly left then, closing the door softly, leaving Marty staring into the darkness with the fixed smile of a winner on her face.
Next morning, everything seemed to go smoothly. Helen was up early, fixed Ray's breakfast, and made Marty finish some toast and coffee, then Ray left for work.
Helen told Marty that she would be gone most of the day, but would be home for dinner. She instructed her that in case she were late, Marty should peel the potatoes and get them started by four-thirty. Marty mumbled agreement, then left in her usual rush for school, without a good-bye to her aunt.
She walked three blocks to a small coffee shop, and had two cups of coffee, sipping each slowly while making eyes at the young man who was behind the counter. Her thoughts, for a change, were not on him, however. She was filled with anticipation of being with her uncle at last. She speculated as to how good Ray would be in making love to her. She knew that she had set him back on his heels when she had sucked his cock a little, in the car, and that he had had plenty of time to work up a big "want."
Ray had driven to his shop, leaving word that he wouldn't be there for the rest of the day. He stared coldly at Tom, but said nothing. He could see guilt written all over his employee's round face. Finally, Tom wilted under the icy gaze of his boss and walked over, rubbing his soiled hands on a piece of rag.
"Uh-we only stayed for one picture last night, Ray," Tom said with a red face. "I, uh, had a headache and my eyes hurt too bad to sit through another dull movie. I guess Marty told you, though?" He looked at his employer, as if wishing he would take him off the hook of silence that he felt Ray was hanging him out to dry on.
"Yeah, she told me." It was cold and impersonal, noncommittal. Ray wanted to see if Tom would put his foot in the trap and blab what had really happened between him and Marty last night. Tom shuffled uneasily, rubbing at his hands, filled with fright that Marty might have told her uncle the whole truth. After all, he did have a good job. Ray was a good guy to work for. Not that he couldn't get another job as mechanic, but he had come to like it at Ray's place.
Suddenly he saw Ray staring at his right hand. There was a telltale white mark where his fire opal ring usually rested. He quickly tried to cover it with the rag, but he knew Ray had spotted the fact it was missing.
"What happened to your ring?" Ray nodded toward the bare finger.
"I left it home. I ... I guess I got to have it cleaned ... it picks up grease and grime, you know. Then Mary says I ought not to wear it to work anymore." It sounded lame, but it was all Tom could think of at the moment.
Ray nodded, then turned and headed for the door. "I won't be back today. You need me, call the house after five or so." He disappeared, and Tom stood staring angrily after him as he heard his car door slam, then the motor start. He had acted like a damn fool. Marty wasn't dumb enough to say anything to her uncle about him. She'd be in as much trouble as he would, if she did. He shrugged, trying to dismiss it from his mind, but his several mistakes during the day were evidence that he was thinking of other things besides the automobile motors he was working on.
Ray headed back home, after glancing at his watch to see that he had allowed Helen plenty of time to be on her way. Driving home, he had plenty of time to consider the step he was taking. It was safe enough. After all, his niece was asking for it, and he wanted it. He wasn't getting any sex kicks from Helen, and hadn't for a long time. Why not take the chance for what Marty promised?
He parked the car a block from the house and went into a phone booth and called his number. The phone rang several times, and he was sure that Helen had gone. It also indicated that Marty hadn't yet arrived, so he walked to the house and went in the back door.
He checked every room and called her name, then he returned to her bedroom, where he had started, and began to rummage around through her dresser drawers. Failing to find anything, he turned to her clothes closet, feeling in pockets and in two old purses. Finally, in desperation, he felt in her shoes. His eyes lit with satisfaction as he felt the cold metal that she had stuffed inside the shoe. He drew out the charm bracelet, his eyes hardening as he spotted the familiar fire opal ring that Tom customarily wore. She had been with him last night, and for more than a ride home!
He examined the other trinkets on the charm bracelet, his eyes harsh as he examined the Phi Beta Kappa key that she had cadged from the teacher, Brady. That he already knew about. It had been that incident, in fact, that had tipped him off to the fact that he had a promiscuous little tramp in his home, instead of just the lively, brash little girl he had believed Marty to be at first.
He hadn't heard her come in, but he was aware of something being amiss. He looked up from his position on his knees into the cold, mocking eyes of his niece. He saw her lips set in an angry sneer, and her voice was like a whip-crack when she flung at him, "You're a good match for that snoopy bitch you married!"
He stood up, a mocking smile on his face.
"Quite a little collection of sex souvenirs, wouldn't you say?" Ray dangled the charm bracelet accusingly.
"That's none of your business!" Marty snapped, advancing to try to snatch it from his hand. Ray reached out a long arm and halted her, putting the bracelet behind his back.
"It is my business," he argued. "You're a minor, in my custody, and I know definitely that you've been screwing around with at least two men-one of them, my foreman! It's my business to see that you behave!"
Marty tried to break his hold on her sweater and grab at the bracelet, but Ray pushed her hard, sending her to a sprawling position on the bed. Ray laughed as she scrambled to a sitting position, her dress high, revealing her crotch.
"What are we fighting for, anyhow?" he said disarmingly, spreading his hands wide. "I don't want this damned thing-I just want to get some of what it took for these chumps to give you these gimmicks. Here!" He tossed the bracelet to her. Marty caught it, somewhat surprised at her uncle's about-face.
"Well, don't we?" Ray asked. "After all, you did stay out of school and come home here. You knew what I wanted. I want to finish what you started the other night. I liked the way you sucked my prick, and I want more."
Marty studied him. In spite of his air of braggadocio, she sensed instinctively that she had won the first round, and that the reins of command had passed to her hands. She had the bracelet, and they were alone, as they had wanted to be for weeks. She saw no reason to prolong the argument.
"You're right," she said brightly, tucking the bracelet into a drawer of her night stand beside the bed. She got up and began to undress, conscious of Ray's eyes fastened on her breasts as she took off the sweater. She was deliberate in her movements, enjoying the look of lust in his eyes, and the slowly rising bulge in the front of his trousers. At the same time, Ray fumbled with his belt, and finally peeled off his pants and shorts, then he quickly shed his shirt. He stood nude, and it was Marty's turn to be captivated. His cock seemed even bigger and harder than it had the other night-much longer, as if it would easily penetrate to the deepest parts of her pussy, spreading thrills as it went.
She let her miniskirt drop, then her panties, and, for a breathless moment, they eyed one another. Almost as if in a trance, Ray advanced toward her, his palms sweaty, his forehead beginning to be covered with perspiration. He grabbed her to him, his fingernails digging into her shoulders, then moving downward along her spine, leaving little trails of whiteness behind. His hands moved downward to her buttocks, nails digging in deeply, as their mouths locked in a searing kiss that became a clash of tongues and teeth.
They writhed against each other, his stiff prick rubbing hard in the groove made by her cunt lips. His hand moved from one ass cheek to cup her breast, and he rolled the erect, taut nipple between his fingers, then gently kneaded the white mound with his fingers, sending rising tides of passion through Marty's now relaxed, surrendered body. Without breaking the kiss, he moved her backward toward the bed. When it caught her knees, she simply fell backwards, and he flopped atop her, still digging his nails into her ass and savagely caressing the breast. Marty's-own fingers went around his back, and she took deep, wild gouges at his flesh, liking the feel of his muscles as they danced beneath her touch.
They were gasping for air, and she broke her mouth away from his, saying breathlessly, "Oh, Ray-Ray--just fuck me-just fuck me like you've never fucked a woman before!"
Ray felt giddy, not only from the sex thrills she was sending through his body, but from the heady and exhilarating feeling of being in a danger-fraught situation. His life had been a dull routine, until Marty, and he was savoring every tiny bit of the situation. He was so happy that he giggled and raised his head, looking into her eyes. "And what will it cost me-I mean, what do I have to add to your collection?"
Marty feigned a grimace, joining him in laughter.
"Just have your cock dipped in gold for me, baby," she replied.
"Bitch!" Ray snarled, biting her ear, digging his nails harder into the soft flesh of her ass.
He continued nibbling her neck, moving downward slowly until his lips found one of her nipples. He sucked on it, massaged it with his tongue tip, then nipped it gently with his teeth, Marty's body rising with the sharp thrills his touch brought. She slid one hand down between their bodies and grasped his cock, her own nails clawing at it as she tried to jerk it up and down. Ray rolled off her to allow her more freedom of movement, and he alternated between nipples, his head bobbing up and down in a flurry of bites and kisses.
Marty was jerking his swollen prick, letting her nails graze its length ever so often. Both were gasping and moaning in delight, and neither wanted to halt the foreplay although their bodies were crying for satisfaction.
Marty removed his hand from her breast and pushed his eager mouth away. She quickly moved down so that she could take his penis in her mouth, and he as quickly moved so that her pussy was close to his face. He spread the lips and looked at the pinkish, wetly shining inner flesh of her cunt. His tongue tip went inside, and he touched her clit, and at the same time, Marty was circling the head of his cock with her lips, running her tongue around the head of it, and playing with the shaft of it with her hand.
Ray reached one hand underneath her, probing with his finger for the inner depths of her womanhood, responding to her kisses and biting with upheavals of his torso and gasps of pained pleasure. He hadn't had anything as wonderful as this in his whole life-not Helen, not any of the more "easy lays" he had always found so much animal joys in conquering. No one had ever been so demanding-so uninhibited in her actions as Marty, and no one had managed to stir and arouse lust in him like she was doing.
He wanted to come in her mouth, but he wanted to make her come, and he wanted to reverse their positions so that he could shove his cock up in her cunt to the hilt-until she screamed and bled and begged him to stop. A fury seemed to possess them, for they bit and clawed at each other's organs until their sadistic and masochistic desires were satiated. Then they settled into a tender, slower caress that coaxed the passions into a white heat until at the end, they were a bobbing lump of flesh, joined by mouths and genitals, jumping, rolling, writhing-making sucking noises that mingled with their own cries of pleasure. In a sudden flurry of motion, they both came within seconds of each other, and for another moment, they sucked and coaxed the last drop of lustful enjoyment from the body of the other.
"I love the taste of your cunt," Ray mumbled thickly, his lips buried in the pubic hair around her cunt, his tongue still flicking in and out. "I love the feel of it in my mouth-love it, love it!"
For reply, Marty bit gently on his softening cock, running her teeth lightly up and down the length of it, infusing it with new fire and stiffness.
His tongue was arousing new fires within her cunt, and as if by unspoken agreement, they paused and moved so they faced each other, side by side.
They toyed gently with each other's erogenous areas while their mouths locked in a fervent kiss that was intended to impart love and desire, rather than raw lust. Ray gently rolled her onto her back, covering her face with kisses that felt like hot coals on her flesh. He mumbled a dozen phrases of endearment, none of which she understood, but each of which brought a new thrill to her body and heart.
The others hadn't been like this. They had been as passionate, but there had not been the electric undercurrent of love and need that she felt flowing from Ray's whole body into her receptive one.
She really did love him! It came to her with a shock at first, which quickly turned to a hot glow. He loved her, as a woman, and she loved him as a man! It was all so new to her, so much more meaningful, she couldn't find the words to express it. She let her lips talk of love, and her fingers as they caressed his now rigid prick, guiding it lovingly into the portals of her womanhood, feeling an entirely new and exciting kind of satisfaction as Ray began to move it in and out of her pussy, panting out words of love.
She spread her legs wide, and when he moved atop her, supporting some of his weight on his elbows, she extended her legs upward, locking them behind his back. It raised her cunt high, allowing Ray free access to the deepest parts of her, and he breathed in long, agonized gasps as his prong went deeper and deeper inside her, bringing matching gasps of delight from her lips.
"Oh, fuck me, Ray darling-fuck me hard and make it last forever." Marty moaned.
His lips close to hers, Ray said, "You're the most wonderful fucking I've ever had, baby-the sweetest cunt in the world. I love you, I love you-I love to fuck you!"
They continued to increase the rhythm of their bucking, sweating bodies, making only unintelligible sounds. Each of them was trying to prolong the sensation, and to savor every drop of passion that was so freely given by the other's caresses.
Without a word, they settled into the final, rapid moves that could no longer be held back, and with a squeal of delight, Marty came in a burst of ecstasy that she had never dreamed possible. Ray was only seconds behind her, his ass moving up and down like a trip hammer, driving his cock the full length into her hot, throbbing cunt, until he gasped and ejaculated a huge load of hot semen into her waiting, eager love cup.
For an instant, they hardly breathed, drinking in the fullness of the orgasm, bathing their bodies in its lush depths.
When he found the energy to move, Ray's face gravitated to her wide open cunt, and he began to lick it gently, coaxing all its former fire back into life. Marty watched him with glowing eyes, her pulse racing at the sight of a man tenderly licking her cunt. All before Ray had been animals by comparison. She knew that there could never be another for her, and, with no regret, she also knew that there could be no more additions to her sex collection. She had found all she had hoped for in a man. He belonged to her! No matter what it cost, she would keep him all to herself.
"I love you, Ray," she said softly, stroking his hair as he continued to send shivers of delight through her body. "I want you for my own. I love you. Can you hear me, my lover?"
Ray nodded his head, still licking and probing her cunt with his tongue. He halted suddenly, pulling himself up level with her lips. He drew her face to him, and his tongue, still wet with her cunt juices, plunged into her mouth deeply, to be met by her own, flicking saliva freely into one another's mouth.
"I love you, Marty," Ray mumbled through his kiss. "I won't ever stop. I won't let anything or anybody ever stop me. I worship you-adore you, every inch of your lovely person."
Marty thrilled to his words almost as much as she had to his touch and his lovemaking. She clutched his head to her neck, and they found each other's mouth again, and at last, they assumed the position of intercourse again, but this time, there was a gentleness to their movements, more tender touches and softer, more meaningful kisses, and when they finally came to a climax, they lay in each other's arms for long moments, sealing their love with sweet words and sweeter caresses.
They spent the next five hours in lovemaking, exploring new delights, new positions for both of them, but always there was an aura of worship about them. It was so heavy that Ray began to worry about how they could conceal it from Helen, and from the world. Helen! She would be home soon. They had to part, for the moment, and they hastily dressed, interspersing kisses with clothing, and promising each other that they would be together again soon, and then one day, forever.
Ray left, while Marty peeled potatoes with a far-away haze in her eyes, reliving the exciting moments of the day with her man, Ray. There were no clouds in her skies. She had no doubt that she and Ray would find a way. And, for the first time in her short, sex-laden life, Marty's mind was not on souvenirs. She wanted the living personification of love and sex-her uncle-lover.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next week was torment for both Ray and Marty. He could not keep his mind on the problems and chores at the shop, and Marty daydreamed her way in school, almost oblivious to her surroundings.
She did have one brief encounter with Bill Brady, but she turned coldly away before he could launch into a plea for the return of his prized key. She was too busy figuring out schemes where she and Ray could be alone for lovemaking, and at night, it was torture for her to have to try to maintain a semblance of normalcy when she was around Ray and under the alert eyes of Helen.
She had evidenced no suspicions on that first evening, and Marty and Ray had avoided one another studiously all that evening. They had stumbled onto a gift that was too precious to take chances with. Besides, Marty consoled herself, there would be thousands of days with Ray, all as wonderful as their first one had been.
They almost trembled when they came into normal contact, such as passing food at the table, and they were so silent in each other's presence that Helen asked Marty if she had had a misunderstanding with her uncle. Marty told her that she hadn't, blaming her unusual silence on her "period."
In the rare moments when they were alone, they added to their own torment with kisses and hastily renewed vows" of love. When he was away from her, Ray called himself all kinds of an idiot. He was acting like he had at his first taste of puppy love. He felt hornier than he had on his wedding night, or his first trip to a whorehouse, when he was seventeen.
To Marty, everything and everyone was beautiful. She was even able to be nice to Helen, and keep the pity that had formed for her aunt, at the impending loss of her husband to a woman who really loved, and who knew how to love, Marty Wells. But the sex-driven pressures began to boil up inside their loins, and they reached a point where they had to possess one another, or end up as screaming idiots. All either could think of was to follow roughly the same format they had used the first time-for Ray to skip work and Marty to skip school, and meet somewhere.
They agreed on a place to meet, and they planned to spend the day at a lonely spot called Miner's Lake, a place now little frequented, since it was a favorite fishing spot during the season, and literally a ghost camp for the balance of the year. Ray knew the owner of a small, crude cabin at the lake, and he arranged to get the key, and the use of the place for a day.
On the drive to the lake, they were like two children heading for an adventure in the wilderness. They joked and giggled, with sexual thoughts buried deep inside for the moment. It was a brisk autumn day and the countryside was a blaze of color as they left the city and headed out to the lake, some three miles beyond the city limit.
When they arrived, the haven they had arranged for looked like a splendid palace to the pair, primarily because it was their first real chance to have sex without fear of discovery.
They stripped and walked out on the rickety boat dock that extended a few feet into the calm waters, and caring little but for the excitement that blanketed them, they dove into the chill waters, shouting and making exuberant sounds as they surfaced, chasing each other and taking quick kisses and feels of their sleek bodies. In a few moments, they were exhausted, but with a glow that warmed their flesh, from the sight of the naked body of their love.
They clambered out and raced for the crude shack, where they had undressed. Ray lit an oil heater and they laughed and kissed as they toweled one another's glowing flesh. When Marty's hair was dry, they went to the mattress-covered bed, disdaining to spread towels over the rough mattress ticking, and Marty lay on the bed, her eyes glowing, her arms outstretched to her lover,
"Make real love to me, Ray," she said seriously. "As if it would never end, or, as if it would be the last time ever! Make-make married love!"
He lay down beside her, facedown, and put one arm over her breasts. Turning, he began to kiss her ears, making clucking sounds with his tongue that made her wince with arousal. His hand roved over her breasts, toying with the hard nipples that told of Marty's desire. His mouth moved over her neck and chin, pausing at her soft lips long enough to plant a deep tongue kiss inside her mouth, and in a few moments, they were a writhing mass of emotion-wracked flesh.
"I do love you, Marty, I do ..." Ray murmured as his lips moved over her naval and his mouth buried itself in the crevice of her womanhood. His tongue was a gentle probe at first, then as her body came alive under his mouth, demanding and begging more, Ray spread the lips of it and set up a deep scooping motion with his tongue that caught her clit and went further in, thrilling the inner recesses of her pussy.
Ray's manhood became stiff and swollen, and she urged him to move around so they could assume the sixty-nine position. As she played with his cock, using her hands and her lips, they sank into the animal-like lust that was eating at their bodies. Soon, Ray's cock was burying itself deep in her hot, wet mouth, and his tongue and fingers were exploring the burning cavern of her cunt. Each was making noises of satisfaction, as their nails dug into each other's body, evoking the last particle of ecstasy from one another's touch.
In a flurry of motion, Ray shot his semen deep into Marty's throat, stepping up his own tongue and finger action to meet her rapidly rising and falling ass. A moment before Marty exploded into a delicious orgasm. Ray ran one finger up her asshole and began an in and out motion that drew cries of anguished pleasure from her as she licked his prick dry of every drop of semen.
They lay quiet for a moment, easing off, relaxing in the warm glow of fulfillment that spread over them, and at last, Marty began to caress Ray's semi hard cock with her mouth and hands, coaxing it into rigidity in a moment. As Ray started to again probe her cunt with his tongue, she pushed him away gently, saying. "I want you to do to me all the things that no other woman has ever had. Anyplace you want, on my body. Anywhere!"
Ray paused and looked at her face that reflected love mingled with pure lust. There was no mistaking what Marty wanted. He voiced the thought.
"There's only one other place, darling. You want it up the ass?"
Marty hugged his cock to her face, mumbling, "Oh, yes ... yes! I-I want to feel that I've given you more than anyone else ever has or ever will! I want to belong to you ... in every way ... completely ... the way my body feels when you touch me. Please, Ray ... do whatever you want... I need it!"
Ray suddenly bent and rolled her over so her round, shapely ass was close to his face. He crawled between her legs and spread the cheeks with his hands. He stared at the brownish-pink areola that surrounded the darker opening, marveling at the excitement that the very sight of her asshole and her cunt from the rear, engendered in him. He gently began to tickle it with his tongue tip, while his fingers played just inside her cunt lips, with the now throbbing clitoris.
Little by little, Ray's tongue went deeper and deeper inside her asshole, and Marty squirmed and moaned in delight. When Ray's own rigid prick could no longer be contained, he raised up on his knees and Marty pulled herself to a position that elevated her asshole to meet his thick, hard prick.
Ray trembled as he spread her ass-cheeks and let his tool find its own way into the dark opening of her anus. He wondered if it would hurt her, penetrating the tight canal without using any lubrication, for it was even a little uncomfortable for him. But Marty was moving her bottom back and forth in an effort to facilitate the entry of Ray's prick, and he became so excited that he feared he would come before he had an inch of it inside. He released one ass-cheek and guided his cock deftly into the opening, pressing hard against his pole with his ass. He looked down, fascinated as his prick head disappeared, and in a few more thrusts, he could see it enter her asshole almost to the hilt.
Marty moaned, "Oh ... Ray, oh darling ... it hurts so, but it thrills me so ... don't stop ... go all the way ... fuck me all the way, darling ... hurt me ... use me ... need me ..."
Ray now took her hips in his hands, helping her meet his lunges. Marty reached down and massaged her clit with one hand, balancing her body with the other, and as she heard Ray's moans and felt the first hot spurt of come shoot deep inside her anus, she masturbated madly, and as Ray reached his climax, she was close behind him with her own.
They collapsed from the sheer exhaustion and the depletion of emotions, Ray's cock still deep inside her, Marty lying on her face, panting, a hazy look in her eyes as Ray kissed the back of her neck, his nails digging idly into the soft muscles of her back. They lay like that for several moments, too satiated to talk or to make any move that would dispel the magical closeness they had achieved.
Ray withdrew his prick after a time, and she rolled over and lay in his arms, their wet bellies close, their mouths locked in a passionate, yet tender kiss.
"Ray, darling ... what are we going to do?" Marty moaned. "I love you so. I can't hide it any longer. I want to tell the whole world about us. What can we do?"
"I feel that way too, honey," Ray said gently, "but we have to be sensible. We can't have any more than this, for now. Maybe later ..." his voice trailed off lamely as the futility of their passion struck him.
"Divorce Helen!" It came from Marty with such venom that it startled him. He pulled back and looked into her smoldering eyes, now bright with determination. "You have to. I can't be around her much longer, without letting my love show. I can't! I won't!"
Ray brushed her hair with his hand. "Don't blow it up now, Marty. We've got to be patient. I want this as much as you do, but we have to be sensible about it. We've got to just take what we can grab, for the time being. Something will work out. Trust me!"
To his surprise, Marty began to cry. He knew it was no put-on, by the depth of her sobs and the way she clung to him. He didn't know why he was so surprised, except that he had almost thought Marty too strong to be this hurt. It had never dawned on him that she even could cry!
He soothed her as if she were a hurt child, holding her close, patting her head, saying, "Come on, now ... don't cry, baby ... please don't cry."
Marty sobbed into his neck, "But I have nothing! She has it all ... the home, you, a ring, your name ... and I have nothing. Oh, Ray ... I want you so much ... I need you ..."
They lay for a long time, each alone with his thoughts. Both were peering over the barrier that Helen posed, trying to find an answer. At last, he felt Marty's soft lips on the nipple of one of his breasts and he felt desire begin to arise in him. She nibbled, giggling as he winced and fidgeted, and she moved downward on his body, sticking her moist tongue into his navel, then running it in a wide circle around his pubic area. At last, she took his rising prong in her hand and plunged it deep into her mouth. Ray pulled her mouth from his cock as quickly as it was fully erect, and he laid her on her back and spread her legs.
He penetrated her throbbing cunt quickly, plunging into her with savage strokes. Marty raised her body and locked her legs around him, and his hands slid around her ass cheeks, as they took each other in animalistic abandon. They shuddered and moaned as they came, and when it was over and he lay beside her, Marty was her usual confident, arrogant self.
"I thought of something, Ray ..." she said coaxingly. "I have to have something ... just for me ... to remind me that I belong to you and you belong to me. I have to! I remembered a gold bracelet I saw in the jeweler's awhile back. It's called a 'slave bracelet' and you can wear them on your ankle if you want to, and few persons even notice them. They're so pretty, yet delicate and ladylike. I want one, Ray! I have to have one! I want it to have our initials on it ... 'R.M. and M.W.' Please?"
Ray frowned momentarily, shaking his head. He replied, "I'll get you the bracelet, honey ... you know that, but I don't think the initials are a good idea. If Helen ..."
"She'll never see it!" Marty interrupted in a harsh tone. "I promise ... it will be just for me!"
Ray sighed, knowing he couldn't refuse her anything she ever asked him. "You're a devil!" He grinned down at her. He kissed her mouth and said laughingly, "But I love you, sweet stuff."
He glanced at his watch as he arose, saying it was time they were leaving, so they could have plenty of time to be where they were supposed to be ... he at work, she at school.
On the short drive to town, both were silent. Marty was in a happy, contented mood. It had been a fulfilling day for her. She had given herself every possible way to the man she loved, and she happily looked forward to the token of their love that she was soon to possess-the slave bracelet. Marty thought how appropriate the name of the memento was, for she was his willing slave, in all things.
The problem of Helen seemed far away, for with the confidence of youth, Marty Wells was sure that she could solve any problem to her benefit. A way would be found for her and Ray to be rid of Helen, and to be together for good.
Ray dropped her off a couple of blocks from their home, on a back street, and he returned to the shop. Marty took a roundabout way home, passing time, daydreaming of her future with Ray. She went home at about the same time she would have arrived had she gone to school and found Helen in the kitchen, preparing supper.
Marty looked quizzically at her, trying to read any suspicious looks she might give, but there seemed to be none. Marty stood staring at her as she bent over the sink, peeling potatoes. She looked at the broad expanse of ass that Helen displayed, and at the thick, shapeless calves and heavy ankles. She almost pitied the woman, as she dreamed of the time when they would be rid of her, for it was unlikely that Helen could attract another man-at least, not one as desirable and virile as Ray:
She went to her room and lay across the bed, thinking of how wonderful the gold slave bracelet would look with the inscription that linked her to her uncle. She was exhausted from the swim and the sex activities, drained of emotions, and she was sound asleep when she heard Helen calling from the kitchen that supper was ready.
She didn't even dare look at Ray as she seated herself at the table, and she was astounded when Helen pinned her with a harsh stare and said, "I waited until your uncle was home to bring this up ..." Helen glanced sternly at Ray, as if warning him that she expected him to punish his niece for what she was about to reveal, "... you weren't in school today!" She glared at Marty in defiance, almost as if she hoped she would further complicate her position by trying to lie out of it.
Marty said nothing. Ray stared suspiciously at his wife, wondering if she had also discovered his absence from work. No one had told him that she had called, and neither he nor Marty had thought about the school officials checking on her absence. He had intended to write her an excuse to take the next day.
Marty glanced at Ray, but his gaze held on Helen. She was on her own, and she wanted to protect Ray at all costs. She had no doubt that Ray could handle Helen, no matter what cock-and-bull story she told.
"No, I wasn't at school!" Marty blurted out angrily. "I had something more important that I wanted to do ... so, I skipped school!"
"Just like that!" Helen continued to glare at her niece. "No explanation, no apology for putting me on the spot! Just a brazen defiance!" She stared harshly at Ray. "This has gone far enough! I want something done about it, Raymond!"
Ray knew that she was unusually irritated because she only called him by his full name when her agitation was at a high pitch.
"All right ... all right!" Ray snapped testily, waving a fork at her. "I'll handle it. He turned to Marty, trying to look severe. "Do you want to explain yourself, young lady?"
"I just needed a day off, that's all!" Marty said, looking from one to the other. "A bunch of us decided to play hooky-that's all! I didn't do anything I'm ashamed of." As she said the last, she looked directly into Ray's eyes, and an unseen message made its way between them. Marty thrilled inwardly at her cleverness in telling Ray that she truly wasn't ashamed of her day with him, but both of them remained stone-faced.
"Well," Ray said cautiously, "your aunt is right. We can't have you goofing off at school. I think that you had better stay close to home this whole weekend and think it over. After all, we are responsible for you, and we've been pretty lenient. So, until you prove that you can be trusted, you check in every day from school with Helen, by three-thirty. Any more of this school skipping, and we'll have to do something more drastic. Understand?"
Marty nodded, with just the right amount of contrition showing and Ray shot a glance at Helen that asked, "Are you satisfied?"
"And while you are home this weekend, you can just give your room a thorough cleaning, and help me with other things," Helen added, somewhat disgruntled at the mildness of Ray's punishment. "But ..." Helen bristled as if in afterthought, "I'm not writing any lying excuse for you. If you want to, Raymond-then you do it!" She rose and busied herself serving the food.
Marty crowed inwardly at the way Helen was actually falling into the trap. She and Ray had no problems, so long as they could be near one another. She was anxious to get the bracelet, and she quietly pestered Ray about it for the rest of the week. Finally, he promised her that he would give her the money to get it Saturday, and that he would fix it with Helen so that she would have time for a shopping trip. He was still hesitant about her having their initials engraved on it, but Marty had already figured out a way around that. She was elated, proud of her intelligence, as she told him that the initials would read "U.R. and M.W."
Ray was puzzled for a moment, but his eyes went wide with admiration as he realized that "U.R." stood for "Uncle Ray." She was a smart little fox, and it would truly be their own secret, and it was with much relief that he gave her the money Saturday morning to buy the slave bracelet.
Marty might not have been so exuberant, and Ray not so complacent about the deception they were carrying out, had they been able to glimpse into the future and see the chain of events that would be triggered by the innocent-seeming purchase of a tiny gold chain with a small plate on it, that would bear evidence to the unholy, incestuous love they bore each other.
CHAPTER EIGHT
In the next few days, life for all three of the members of the household settled into a game of cat and mouse; Ray and Marty trying to see each other to have a sex session, and unbeknownst to them, Helen playing detective. She was positive that Marty was involved in a sex caper. She wasn't sure, but she somehow suspected that Tom, Ray's foreman, was mixed up in it. He had been cagey and evasive when she had called at the shop, and Helen suspected that he was covering up something. Another thing that increased her suspicions of him was the fact that lately Tom and his wife hadn't invited Ray and her over, nor arranged any double dates for a long time. Once, they had been very close-practically the only company that Ray and she ever spent any time with.
And Marty was acting so furtive, yet seemed to have a superior air about her, as if she were putting something over on Helen, if not Ray, also.
Ray himself was acting strange, Helen felt, and this added to her suspicions that he was in collusion with Tom, covering up an affair with Marty. If that were not the case, Helen was still certain that Marty was up to no good. She was on too good behavior, for her. She was meek and polite around Helen, and she hardly spoke to Ray, except in a casual way when the three of them were together.
Marty had not missed any more school-Helen made sure of that. She called the school often, checking on her niece and was satisfied that Marty was attending classes regularly. All she really needed, Helen told herself, was for her uncle to assert himself once in a while, to let her know that she had best keep in line, or she would be treated like any other delinquent.
Ray and Marty had worked out a makeshift plan. It wasn't satisfactory, but it was better than nothing at all. Two or three days a week, Ray would pick Marty up during her lunch hour, when she was free to leave the school, and they had awkward sex in his car, in as secluded a place as they could find. They didn't dare risk going to the lake again, for Ray could think of no plausible story that would account for both of them being absent at the same time.
They did get one break when Helen's club was to have its weekly meeting at her house. Helen knew that Ray did not like to be around a bunch of chattering females, and he usually went bowling or to a movie on the nights when she held the meetings at home. So she told Ray that it might be a good time to take Marty to a movie, or bowling. Helen didn't fancy the idea of her sexy young niece being snotty to her closest friends, and besides, she wore such heavy makeup and such short clothes that any decent woman could tell in an instant that Marty was a tart-and that she was gunning openly for any male she might entrap.
So they had one long evening together, and Ray drove to a lonely place beside a creek-a clearing in the woods, where lovers often drove in the summertime. But this particular night, they were completely alone. They spread a car blanket on the ground and undressed quickly, wanting to take advantage of every moment to make up for the many hours they had missed each other.
As they undressed in the dimness, the moonlight streamed down upon their bodies, imparting a greenish-white glow to their skin. They stood for a moment, just drinking in the other's lures.
"You're beautiful, Marty," Ray said with genuine emotion. "I love you. I don't see how I can go on like this, just sneaking an hour here and there." His hands found her breasts, cupping them and she moved close. "It wouldn't be so bad, if only we didn't have to be around each other so much, and not dare to touch, or kiss, or even say the words we want to."
"I know, lover," Marty said, her mouth smothering his lips in a sucking, demanding kiss. Her hand stole down and caressed his already hardening prick. She slowly knelt, his hands sliding up until they were around the back of her head. She began to tickle the head of his cock with her tongue, letting it rove downward once or twice, so that it ranged the length of his tool, burying itself in his pubic hair.
Ray began to writhe, and she tormented him no longer. She opened her lips and let his rigid staff enter, while she cupped his ass-cheeks in her hands and pulled him closer, his cock plunging deep into her mouth as she moved her head from side to side, covering every tiny part of his prick with sucking, teasing kisses.
He began to jerk and shudder, and he shot a load of jism into her eager mouth. He moaned and pulled her mouth down on his prick, and she sucked him dry of every drop, using her tongue at the end to wipe the head of his cock clean-even the tiny hole at the tip of it.
They laid on the blanket, with Ray sucking her nipple, running his fingers loosely over her vagina, letting one finger slip inside the wet, waiting lips of her cunt.
Marty felt a sudden desire overwhelm her, and she scrambled to her knees, spreading her legs wide.
"From the back first, honey!" she directed, "then up the ass! I want you that way-I just want to be everything-everything you want or need!"
There was a desperate need that echoed in her voice, and even though she didn't quite understand her own needs for anal intercourse, Marty sensed somehow that this one position was especially meaningful to Ray, for she was sure that it really satisfied him and that he had never done it that way with another girl. It was their "special" way, and it expressed their deep lust and love for one another more than any other way.
Ray got behind her on his knees and guided his hard cock into her pussy. She was lubricated and hot, and after a few lunges his cock was moving in and out of her cunt easily, rubbing the inner recesses and the lips, making contact occasionally with her clit. She bucked like a young mare for a time, then she balanced herself on one hand and reached down and began to masturbate herself, as she felt the hot waves of orgasm begin to lap at the sensitive clit and the inner regions of her cunt.
Ray was ready to come at the same time, and both were making noises that meant nothing, yet told of a world of passion that was consuming them.
Suddenly, from the darkness, a blinding light enveloped them for a split second, then left them sightless as the afterglow lingered in their eyes.
"Goddamn!" Ray cursed, his addled wits quickly adjusting to the situation. "That was a flashbulb! Somebody took a picture of us-with both our faces showing!" He stood up, his tool softening rapidly. Marty was stunned and terrified, and she collapsed on the blanket, torn between fear that nauseated her and the frustration of having been close to climax, then being rudely jolted into the realization that they had been caught and even photographed in the act!
Ray stood peering into the darkness, unable to see because of the destruction of his night vision by the blinding light of the flashbulb. He tried to stare down the road they had taken to reach the glade, but he saw nothing but deep shadows. After a few moments, he heard a car motor spring to life in the distance, and then they heard the car moving rapidly away and, in a moment or two, the sounds died completely.
Ray was on his knees beside Marty. She had sat up, and was staring at him in the faint light of the moon. Her face held a worried frown, and Ray looked grimly at her.
"I'm scared," Marty said in a little-girl voice.
"I am too," Ray said grimly, "but we can't panic."
"What do you think it was-who?" Marty mumbled.
"I don't know. Maybe somebody that Helen had follow us. She's been acting awfully suspicious lately. I wouldn't put anything past her."
"She hates me, I know she hates me." Marty was beginning to feel sorry for herself. She was already feeling like a martyr, thinking only of herself, and not of Ray. "What shall I do, Ray?" she asked, unconscious of the fact she had included only herself in the question.
"Nothing we can do, but wait. Whoever it was will use the picture soon, for whatever purpose it was intended. All we can do is play it by ear-stay cool, and see what it's all about. C'mon, let's get dressed."
Marty shivered, pulling on her panties. "I'm scared. I can't look her in the eye, Ray. I just feel like I want to run and hide."
"It's too late for that!" He snapped, rapidly donning his clothes. "We've just got to go back and act like it never happened. Maybe it was just some nut from town, who gets his kicks out of watching people fuck, and takes pictures so he can masturbate later, while looking at them." He knew in his heart that he was fishing for straws. He didn't believe it was a stranger. He believed that it was tied in directly with Helen, and his mind was already racing, trying to envision what she would say, and what he could possibly say in reply. A photograph was something you couldn't argue with.
On the drive back, they were both silent for most of the way, feeling gloomy and frightened, with a trace of anger at themselves for having allowed their passions to place themselves in such a vulnerable spot. As they neared the house, Ray pulled to the curb and shut off the motor.
"Look, Marty, honey," he said, his hand on her shoulder, "we've got to play this cool. When we go in, we'll smile and say we had a good time at the movie. I have to see Helen's eyes-be alone with her for a little while, so I can tell if this was her doings or not. You just do your best to act natural. Will you try, honey?"
Marty nodded, shivered again, but not from the cold. She was already thinking in terms of having been discovered, and she wondered what they would do in that case. She voiced her fears.
"Ray, what if-what if Helen does see that picture. What will I do? What will we do? Can we just-ran away?"
Ray noted the selfishness of her fears, and he shook her shoulder roughly. "Just don't worry about that!" he growled. "Just try to act natural now. Let me take care of whatever comes. You just keep from bawling, or getting mad at Helen if she accuses us, and blabbing the whole thing! You hear me?"
Marty winced under his fingers, and nodded. Her eyes were bright with fear, and when Ray pulled the car into the driveway, they did not even kiss. They could tell from the sounds coming from inside the house that the last of the women were leaving, and they entered by the back door.
Marty quickly went down the hall and into her room, where she sat in the darkness, trembling, straining to hear whatever conversation took place between Ray and Helen.
The women had gone, and Ray sat at the kitchen table, nervously sipping at his cup of coffee. He was trying to steel himself for Helen's onslaught, but he was thinking more clearly now, and he wondered if she were behind the picture-taking sneak. Whoever had taken the picture would hardly have had time to come back and give it to Helen. Maybe he had been right in his surmise that some weirdo had taken it. His confidence grew as he thought it over more carefully. Helen wasn't that smart, Ray reasoned. It made sense to think that they had run into an unlucky accident, and that within a few days, he might be blackmailed. But that was far more preferable than to have to face Helen, in the face of the damning evidence. Because they had been doing it dog fashion both their faces must have shown very clearly in the picture.
Helen walked into the kitchen, glowing with satisfaction. Her party had gone well. She poured a cup of coffee and seated herself opposite Ray, smiling happily.
"How'd it go?" he asked without real interest.
"Marvelous! Simply grand. We got so much accomplished toward our winter projects." She was bubbling with enthusiasm and pride of accomplishment. She was in a little dream world of her own, and as Ray studied her face, he was more positive than ever that she knew nothing of the blackmail scheme. If she'd have been behind it, she would have already been screaming at him.
"Did you and Marty have a nice evening?" Helen asked absently, hardly pausing before she went on, "Mary Shultz had the most interesting idea to raise money! We're going to ..."
"I'm pretty beat," Ray interrupted. "Long day tomorrow. Mind if I go to bed?" He stood up and waited for her answer.
Helen stood also. "I'm pretty tired, too. All that excitement and fussing-but we did get so much done! I'll clean up tomorrow. I'm coming to bed too."
While Helen was in the bathroom, with the water running in the sink, Ray darted down to Marty's room, opened the door and snapped, "I was right. Some kook or something. Helen doesn't know a thing, so relax. Talk to you tomorrow."
He went quickly back to his bedroom and got into bed, leaving Marty lying in the darkness almost faint from the relief. She didn't think about any consequences, so long as it hadn't been a trap laid by Helen.
Ray, in his bed, was not so calm. He wondered who had taken the picture? It was an incriminating piece of evidence, and he went over the list of people whom he felt might not like him-or Marty, or those who might be motivated simply by greed.
When Helen crawled into bed, she was naked. To Ray, this was the signal that she wanted intercourse. He thought to himself that she sure picked a fine time for it. He was so worried, he wondered if he could get a hard-on, or keep it long enough to bring her to orgasm and get the ordeal over with.
Helen cuddled close to him, her hand moving to caress his cock, which for her, Ray knew, was the ultimate in brazenness for a woman.
"Make love to me, honey," Helen coaxed, kissing his ear. "It's been a long time. You seem so busy-so preoccupied lately-make love to me, please." He hated it when she whined or begged for fucking, and he got up and went into the bathroom, telling her that he was going to wash good. Instead, he sat on the toilet seat and played with his soft cock, imagining he was entering the soft, hot pussy of his niece, or that he was shoving his rigid cock to the hilt in her tight asshole.
When his prick was hard and ready, he quickly got into bed and climbed atop Helen. She lay there in the dark, her legs spread, but her body unmoving, waiting for him to go through the unchanging ritual of fucking her in the old-fashioned position.
In his frustration, yet with deep relief, Ray took his wife savagely, plunging his cock in deep and hard and fast, one hand cruelly kneading the cheek of her ass, while the fingers of the other raked over her nipple and small breast. He heard gasps come from Helen-gasps that he hadn't heard for years. She suddenly came alive under his body, writhing and moving her ass to take more of his cock. It surprised Ray, for she was usually as unmoving as a board. Their lovemaking had become uninteresting, just a function to relieve physical need and tension. But tonight, Helen was different, and she suddenly proved it by pulling his face down and sticking her tongue deeply into his mouth. She surprised him and she tantalized him and, in a moment, Ray was returning her passionate tongue kisses, sucking and toying with hers, feeling his passion rise. It was a new feeling, and Ray surrendered himself to it completely. Helen began to mumble through the kisses, saying, "Oh, Ray, you're so wonderful! Ray, Ray-fuck me good, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"
It was so strange to hear her use the word that it brought him to the peak of passion, and he lunged viciously into her cunt, wanting to make her come fully alive as a woman-the way Marty always did-with abandon and sheer joy. He pulled her legs up, and Helen got the message. She locked her legs around him, and he raised her body by the ass, using both hands to pull her closer, so he could plunge his cock deeper into her.
Later, he thought that it must have been a deep sense of guilt that made him screw Helen three times, but at the time Ray knew only that she had become suddenly alive and sexy, like she had never been before, even during their first days of marriage.
Before the last one, Helen even bent and took the head of his cock in her mouth! It was a timid gesture, and she quickly released it, and clung to him tightly, as if afraid she had displeased him. "I tried, anyhow," she said. "Maybe someday I'll be able to-to go all the way, that way."
She excited Ray, like a new toy would a child. He wondered if he hadn't been missing a lot by his neglect of Helen, and by his longstanding disinterest in her body.
After they had both had an orgasm for the third time, Ray masterfully spread her legs and crawled down and inserted his tongue in her cunt. She had always shied away before, but this time she welcomed his probing, flicking tongue, and he nibbled and sucked and plunged until he felt her clitoris explode in a wild series of twitches, and then she came, collapsing with the pleasure of it.
That night, for the first time in years, Ray and his wife went to sleep in each other's arms, like young lovers.
* * *
Next morning, Ray had already left for work when Marty entered the kitchen. She was astonished to meet a sparkling-eyed, vivacious Helen, who smiled and waited on Marty with a new air about her. She chatted gaily about her hen party the night before, and hoped that Marty had liked the movie, and when Marty left for school, she was more suspicious than ever. She was sure it was an act that Helen was putting on to cover her suspicions, or to throw Ray and her off the track while she plotted to destroy them.
Marty would have been even more astonished had she known that Helen's liveliness and pleasantness stemmed from the good feeling of having been satisfied sexually by the man she loved. To Helen, it was the opening of a new door, to new joys. She promised herself that, at least three times each week, she would approach her husband in this abandoned, needful manner, and that she would eventually learn to do all the things that pleased him sexually, for it had given her a new outlook on life.
But surprises were the order of the day for Marty. She had been so shaken by the events of the night before, then shaken more by Helen's about-face, that she almost welcomed the classrooms, for it meant that she could get her mind off the confusing things that were piling up in her life.
But at noon, she was jolted out of her deliberately contrived peace, by a note that a boy slipped to her. It was sealed in an envelope and had no name on it. When she opened it, she found there was no salutation and the note was typewritten. It said: THE WRITER HAS SOMETHING TO TRADE. WILL TAKE KEY IN RETURN FOR INTERESTING PICTURE. That was all. Marty shook her head at first, befuddled by the cryptic message, but then it dawned on her like a thunderbolt striking-the note was from Bill Brady, and it had been him, or someone he had paid, who had taken the flashbulb shot of her and Ray the night before!
Anger filled her for a moment, but it rapidly gave way to fear! If she refused to return Brady's key, and he showed the picture to Helen, it would blow the roof off her world! She wondered how he had known they were going to be there, but that seemed unimportant for the moment. She had to get that photo, at all costs. Yet, a streak of stubbornness took hold of her. Blackmail was a nasty situation, but perhaps there was another way to get the picture, and still keep the key. She still had an enticing body, and in the few times she had run into Brady at school, in spite of his attempts to scowl at her, she had seen the lust in his eyes. He still wanted her sexually, and perhaps she could make him want her enough to relinquish the picture, and allow her to keep the key he prized so highly.
A soft smile was on her face as she knocked at his office door and went in without waiting to be bidden. Bill Brady sat at his desk pouring over some papers, but he showed no surprise when she walked in and closed the door behind her. He was pretty sure that she would come running, once she had seen that picture. Now, as she stood posing provocatively, her pelvis thrust forward, her breasts jutting out, with the "come-to-me" smile, Brady could almost read her mind. She was going to try the same bait with the picture that she had with the Phi Beta Kappa key.
"I got your note," Marty said softly.
"Note? What note?" Brady wanted to enjoy having the whip in his hand-a bigger whip than she knew, yet.
"Let's not play games, Bill. You typed a note and had a boy give it to me a few minutes ago. You said you wanted to make a trade-remember?"
Brady grinned wickedly. "Oh, that note? Yes, I guess I did. Now-do you have the key with you?"
"You know I don't. I never carry it. I've never shown it to anybody. I keep my word."
"But you are interested in a trade?" Brady ignored the slight sarcasm in her last phrase.
"I'm always interested in deals that can get me something," she replied calmly, the smile still on her mouth. She was growing more sure of herself now, seeing that look in his eyes as they moved up and down her body.
"Well then, let's get down to business." Brady tried to act stern, but that lush body, and the memories it stirred within him, was disconcerting.
"I have a picture of you and a man, in a somewhat revealing position," Brady continued briskly. "You have a key which I foolishly agreed to let you have in return for a-couple of favors. I want the key. You want the picture. Simple as that. Even trade."
They exchanged icy, challenging smiles as Marty mentally appraised her chances of coming out with the picture and the key. It wasn't that the key was so important now, but that Brady was challenging her. He was trying to escape from the lure of her body, and that hurt her pride and got her determination boiling.
She nodded suddenly. "It's a deal. I'll have to get the key. It's at home. I'll meet you at your place, and we trade. Fair enough?"
The teacher was wary. He didn't trust her. He'd already seen what a bitch she really was, and what a ruthless person lay beneath that soft, girlish exterior.
He stood up and leaned forward, piercing her with his eyes. His voice was harsh and his face grim as he said, "At my place at seven, but-no other deal. No fucking, no sucking, no playing. I've got over you, Marty girl. I've gone to the bathroom enough to wash the shit of you out of my system, so no hanky-panky-no bedroom tactics. Just bring the key and I'll give you the picture, then you get your hot little ass out of my life! Go and fuck yourself, or maybe your uncle! Got it straight?"
Marty had been calm throughout his denunciation, but at the mention of her uncle, she froze! He knew that the man in the picture was Ray! How? And what might he do, after he once had his key back? She had no guarantee that he wouldn't continue the blackmail. Perhaps he had other copies of the picture. And what about the negative? Her mind was racing and she was close to panic.
This was getting too complicated for her to handle alone. She had to talk to Ray and get his advice. Ray always knew what to do.
Meekly, she nodded, the smile now gone. "All right. I'll be there. But-" she made one last attempt to gain control, "I want the negative."
"Don't be childish," Brady snorted. "That was taken with a Polaroid flash camera. There's only one copy, but if I have to use it, one can be more than enough. You just show up with the key, and we're square. Now, get out. I have a lot of work to finish before the class bell rings!"
He seated himself at his desk and picked up his red pencil. He missed the baleful glare she shot him just before she closed the door and walked out.
CHAPTER NINE
Marty's hand trembled as she dialed Ray's number. When she heard his voice, she babbled a stream of words which made little sense to him. He finally calmed her a bit and told her to make sense. Marty was beginning to be a problem. She was a good fuck, and a pleasant pastime, but she panicked too easily. She came apart at the seams, and this could be dangerous. He mentally promised himself that he'd take steps to clear up this situation soon-as soon as he got this goddamned blackmail thing out of the way.
"The picture-" Marty was saying. "The one last night. Bill Brady, the English teacher, has it. He sent me a note. He wants his Phi Beta Kappa key back, then he'll give me the picture."
"Well give him his goddamned key, then!" Ray shouted. "What's stopping you? You know we can't afford to have anybody see the picture!"
"But he knows!" Mary blurted.
"Knows what, for Christ's sake-that we were fucking?"
"No, no," Marty gasped, growing more confused by Ray's sudden sharpness. "He knows that the man in the picture is you, and that you're my uncle!"
Ray was stunned, and for a moment, only the humming of the current on the line was to be heard. He wondered how the damned teacher had found that out, but there was no time for thinking now. He had to act. He had to work it out so that the sonofabitch wouldn't use his information, once the photo was safely in his or Marty's possession. He cursed her silently. Damned dumb little bastard, getting tangled up with men and then taking things from them, just to show off for her own ego how many men she had had at her feet, or waiting at her cunt's door was more like it.
Into the mouthpiece he said, "All right. Don't panic. Get the key and I'll talk to you after school about how we'll make sure he keeps his mouth shut about this thing. I'll pick you up after school and we'll work something out." He hung up, his mind busy with the problem.
Marty stood looking dumbly at the phone as the line went dead. She was afraid before, but now she was even more in dread. She felt as if she had been deserted. Something in Ray's voice had been different. He had been angry and disturbed, but more than that, Marty had detected an iciness in his voice. She wondered if he really cared for her, or if they had just played around so much that the novelty had worn off for him. She couldn't figure out why, for he had seemed his usual loving, passionate self the night before.
Ray's thoughts were flying along the same route. He realized he had been curt, almost rude, to Marty, and he hadn't meant to be. She was just a kid, entering her first bind, and it was only natural she would be scared and turn to him. But he wondered about that Brady bastard, and just how far he would go. And, vaguely, in the back of his mind, there was the remembrance of Helen-his hot, new, interesting Helen of the night before.
In a sense, Ray was putting them all on the scales of his judgment, wondering which was most important to him. He hated to admit it, but at the moment, it was Ray that was important. He didn't want his life upset by all these dirty situations, all for a good piece of ass-and especially since he had discovered a new woman in bed with him-the new Helen.
Marty was in a daze for the balance of the day, dreading the coming scene with Bill Brady. He had been foul mouthed and nasty-so unlike himself-that for once she began to doubt her ability to get through to him and take command. She had never thought that damned gewgaw, the key, could be so important to him. He had tried many times at school to talk to her about it, but she had always ignored him or laughed at him, saying it had been a gift, and that she felt she deserved it.
Now the problem had to be faced, and she wasn't even sure she could go through with it. And Ray's coldness had only undermined her confidence more. He hadn't even been concerned with Marty's loss of face, with the puncturing of her pride that giving the key back would cause. She wondered if she still had that same allure with Ray. She was certain she wouldn't be able to work it on Bill Brady that evening, and she became more concerned with Ray than with anything else. She couldn't lose him! She really did love him. The world would come crashing down on her shoulders, if Ray ever gave her the brush-off.
She was exhausted emotionally when he picked her up after school. She climbed into the car beside him and they stared at each other, almost as if they were seeing one another for the first time as they really were.
"How the hell did he find out I was your uncle?" Ray blurted out suddenly, looking grim.
"I don't know, but he knows. He said so."
"Did he say he wanted money, or anything from me?"
Marty shook her head. She was close to tears. It seemed that Ray was thinking only of himself, and not of the humiliation Bill had heaped on her. He wasn't caring at all what it would do to her to have to surrender the key to him, just to get a silly picture back. She bridled inside, wishing she had the courage to tell Brady to go ahead and use the picture of her and Ray, fucking dog fashion. After all, she wasn't ashamed of it!
"Well, here's what we'll do. I looked up his address on my records. I've done work on his car. You get that damned key and give it to me when we get home, and don't let Helen see you do it. I'll take it over tonight, and get this straightened out. That's the best way. You stay out of it. He won't be so cocky if he's talking to a man, and I'll make certain that there are no more copies of the picture around, and I'll get the negative."
"He said it was a Polaroid shot," Marty interjected.
"So much the better, but I'll handle this Brady character-my way."
Marty looked sharply at him, wondering what he meant. Was he saying that he was sure she would fail, because she no longer had sexual power over Brady? He couldn't know that. She was imagining things. It was best if he handled the ugly part of the situation-the confrontation for the picture.
Marty leaned close and put her hand on his thigh, running the other up and down the back of his neck. "Oh, Ray, I love you so much," she moaned. "I'm sorry I got us into this mess, but I'll make it up to you. Just love me." Her eyes brightened and she said breathlessly, "Can we go somewhere now and have each other? I need you so. I need to know that you still love me."
Ray moved his head so her hand fell away and shot a harsh glance at her face. "Are you nuts? Is that all you ever think of-fucking? Good God, Marty, we could be in all kinds of trouble, and you seem to think that they will all go away if we fuck each other? You're an idiot, sometimes." His face was a pattern of disgust, and Marty began to sob, certain that she had lost Ray's love. He was treating her like a child, or worse-like a woman with whom he had become disinterested.
When she moved away and held her hand over her eyes, Ray's glance softened. He moved over and put his arm around her and kissed her head. "I'm sorry, honey," he soothed, "I guess I'm just upset about all this. I didn't mean to be sharp with you. It isn't your fault, really. After all, we were both in the picture, weren't we?" He smiled, trying to make light of the situation, but it came off badly.
"Come on, snap out of it," he said teasingly. With one hand he reached out and cupped her breast, and with the other, he ran his fingers up under her short skirt and inside her panties, brushing the lips of her cunt with his fingertips. "I love you, baby. I'm crazy about you. When this has all blown over, you'll see, I promise."
His touch brought hope back to Marty, and she snuggled close, holding his hand that covered her breast.
"Can I have you now?" She pleaded. "I need it-I need you to give me the courage I almost lost, when you were so nasty on the phone today, and then-just now, I felt you didn't need or want me anymore."
Ray shook his head, more in awe at himself, than at her sexiness. He marveled how the very sight and touch of this little sexpot could so fill him with a need and desire that everything else was meaningless. He felt his prick begin to rise as her hand roved his thigh, touching his cock through the cloth of his trousers.
In a way, he needed her body to impart courage to him. The ordeal he faced with Brady wasn't to his liking. He hadn't liked the man from the start, and after discovering his affair with Marty, Ray liked him even less. He reached down and started the car, and they drove to an edge of the town that was given over to huge warehouses and which was practically deserted at this time of day. He drove into a long, shadow-filled alleyway between warehouses and parked.
On the way, Marty had been playing with his cock, having taken it out of his pants. She had been masturbating him, and alternating her hand with her mouth, and when he arrived at the parking spot, he was more than ready for some wild sex. Meanwhile, Marty had been turned on by the sight and feel of his prick and his playing with her breast as they drove.
They climbed into the back seat and she stripped off her panties and spread her legs wide. Ray got on his knees on the floor and spread her even wider, immediately diving into her throbbing cunt with his mouth open, his tongue playing a tattoo on her clit as it flicked quickly over the hard, pulsating knob of flesh. With one hand, he was running his finger up her asshole, and with the other, he was digging deep inside her cunt, touching the walls of her inner depths, while his tongue and teeth kept her clit in a state of agitation. Inside a couple of moments, she began to roll her hips and gasp, and she came with a shudder, moaning her love for Ray as he applied the final, quieting strokes with his tongue.
It was her turn to take care of his needs, so they switched positions, with him on the seat and Marty on the floor. She went at his cock hungrily, as if it had been years since they had engaged in sex, instead of only hours. She plunged it deep into her mouth, while she held it with one hand wrapped around the base, moving it slowly up and down. With her other hand, she played with his testicles, and in a few moments Ray was ready to come in her mouth. As he braced himself for orgasm, looking down at her bobbing head, watching his cock go in and out of her wet mouth, Ray wondered incongruously when Helen would really give him a blow job, and whether it would be as thrilling as what Marty gave.
As he shot his load into her open throat, Ray closed his eyes and imagined that it was Helen who was gulping down his semen, hungrily licking his slimy prick, softly massaging his jumping balls.
She kept her hold on him with her mouth and her hands, until Ray was again erect and hard, and then she quickly scrambled away and seated herself astride him, her knees bent awkwardly, so that her cunt was almost on top of his rigid prick. He deftly inserted it into her wide-open cunt lips, while Marty raised herself until he had it all in. Hands linked around his neck, she began to bounce about to allow his cock to penetrate deeply. Ray placed his hands under her ass-cheeks, lifting and maneuvering so that they kept a constant contact of their organs.
Marty liked it this way, facing each other, but with their faces far enough apart to allow her to see Ray's face. As they gazed into each other's eyes, Ray saw the lust that he felt mirrored in her eyes. She was like a bitch in heat, he thought-a pure animal who knew nothing of love, or morals, but only of the satisfaction that sex brought to her young body. It didn't matter what man, he thought grimly-just so he satisfied her.
It was her insatiable desire for sex that had brought about the tense situation they were now in, he reflected. As his orgasm approached, he had a difficult time keeping his thoughts on the situation. At the final moment, nothing was in his mind or his blood, except Marty.
It was thrilling to watch her face as it was covered with ecstasy as she came, and as Ray shot his semen high into her, feeling some of it dribble back out of her cunt and down onto his pubic hair. He cursed himself for a damned fool, but at the same time, he realized that he was her victim as much as Brady had been, or Tom-or any man that she chose to conquer.
Ray felt that he was in a trap, and that the lid was closing, and that he would strangle quickly. Yet, he felt exhilarated and brave at the daring he had exhibited, and at the challenge he would face tonight, later on. She was like a drug to him, sending him to the heights one moment, then to the depths of despair the next, but like a drug she had hooked him on her body.
As they relaxed after their orgasm, Ray was filled with a sudden urge to tell her that this was their last fuck-that he had decided it wasn't worth the risk of losing his wife, his reputation, perhaps his business and most of all, his own self-respect.
But instead, he let his cock soften its way out of her cunt, while his mouth locked on hers and they swore once more their undying love for one another.
He dropped her off two blocks from home, then he went back to the garage until five, when he left for home. When he arrived, entering the kitchen by the back door, Helen threw herself into his arms, planting a big kiss on his mouth. "Remember?" she asked coyly. In spite of himself, Ray grinned down at her and cupped his hands around her ass, drawing her close so that she rubbed her woman's mound against his cock. It began to grow hard as they kissed, and Ray finally pushed her away and said, "Remember, Marty is here."
Helen's face fell, but she brightened at the thought that there would be new and exciting thrills tonight, for she had finally unlocked the floodgates of her deep love for Raymond Milford, and she had a lot of catching up to do. She had been thinking all afternoon of their lovemaking, and, most of all, she had been chiding herself for having refused Ray so many varieties of sex, all these years. His cock had actually felt and tasted exciting, when she'd sucked it last night, and she had determined that tonight she would go all the way.
He told Helen that he had to go out for a while that evening, on a business deal, but that he would be home early. The look in his eye told her that he meant to continue their sex session of the night before, and Helen was a bright, happy person all during supper.
Marty reluctantly took the key from her collection and secreted it in her pocket. She fought with herself, trying to convince herself that she had no other choice, while her ego told her that she could yet win this battle with Brady, without Ray's help, if only she had the chance.
She slipped the key to Ray right after supper and, after helping with the dishes, she returned to her room to mope.
She was restless, her imagination trying to construct the scene between Ray and Bill Brady. It was little consolation to her that they were, in a way, fighting over her. She knew that Ray would win any battle they might engage in, simply because he was a stronger person.
For his part, Ray was nervous. He didn't relish the meeting, for Brady would be expecting Marty, and would probably become nasty with Ray. But he had to find out just what Brady had in mind concerning his hot little news item concerning Marty and himself.
So, at seven, Ray knocked on Bill Brady's door and was greeted by the not-too-surprised smile of his adversary.
"Come in, Milford," Brady said easily. "I was half expecting you, instead of your niece." He stood aside and Ray entered, quickly glancing around the tastefully furnished apartment.
"That's one of the things I want to talk about," Ray said in a stern manner, seating himself on the sofa. "How did you find out that Marty was my niece, and why did you blackmail us with a picture-if you have a picture." Ray was grasping at straws, hoping that Brady had been bluffing.
"Oh, I've got the picture all right," Bill said in a confident voice. "Nice and clear, showing you and Marty engaged in intercourse-from the rear, shall we say. And finding out who you were wasn't too difficult for me. I just asked to see her records here at school. They told me she was an orphan, and that, as next of kin, her uncle, Raymond Milford, was appointed her legal guardian. Then when I saw your name on the garage, and on your bills and receipts, and saw Marty leaving your place one day, it was easy to put it together."
"I wouldn't have thought anything of it, except for the price the slut made me pay for a piece of ass!" Brady was turning the knife in Ray's guts, and enjoying it. "She asked too high a price for a little fucking, and when I tried to buy it back from her, she laughed in my face. The bitch is nothing but a nymphomaniac-a common whore! She takes things from men for screwing them, and that makes her nothing but a whore! I wonder what she's taken from you, because it's obvious that you've been making it with the little bitch-probably more than anyone else!"
Ray stood up, fists clenched, tempted to rush Brady and break his face up, but he controlled himself and sat back down. "Blackmail is as bad as prostitution," he ground out, "and that's all you are-a cheap blackmailer."
Brady nodded confidently. He knew he had the upper hand. Ray needed that picture too badly to give him any real trouble.
"I don't know why I'm even here," Ray continued. "As far as that goes, you'd have a lot to lose if Marty or I, as her guardian, blew the whistle on you. I don't think they think much of teachers who seduce pupils!"
"Seduce!" Brady snorted. "That's a laugh! You know who did the seducing, if you want to call it that. That little bitch made up her mind to fuck me and to get herself a souvenir, and she did. Now I want my key back. I'm not going to argue with you, because you're in no position to argue with anyone over your fucking hot-assed niece! If you've got the key, I've got the picture. Let's get this nasty little scene over with!"
Brady stood staring down at Ray, unafraid, angry.
Ray was still fighting the temptation to knock the crummy teacher on his ass, but instead, he reached in and took out the Phi Beta Kappa key and held it in his hand so Brady could see it.
"Get the picture, you creep, and it had better be the only copy, or I'll bust you into little pieces!"
Brady was grim faced as he left the room and returned a moment later with the picture. It was fairly obvious that it was taken by a Polaroid camera, and Ray knew that if that were true, he wouldn't have had time to have copies made.
They stood a few feet apart, glaring at each other like angry male tigers about to clash over a female. Ray held out the key and Brady extended the picture, and in a sudden gesture, each snatched the other's offering. Brady stood staring happily at his key, but Ray, after a quick glance at the picture of he and Marty, turned his eyes back to Brady.
"Don't forget, Brady, if any copy shows up, you're heading for a hospital!" He stood up, a good six inches taller than the teacher, glowering at him. "And the same goes for any gossip that you start. Don't forget, you rotten bastard, that you can get smelled up from the same shit that you smear on anybody else! I'll see to it!"
Ray pocketed the picture and stalked out without a backward glance, leaving a relieved man behind. Brady was glad that it had turned out this way, that Ray Milford had come instead of his sexy niece. It might have been more difficult, dealing with the shrewd little hot pants, and Brady wasn't sure whether he might not have succumbed to that lush, sexy body once again and come out on the short end of the deal.
Ray was still angry when he drove into the driveway, but his anger was turned more at Marty than Brady. Brady was like himself, or Tom, or any other male old enough to get a hard-on-a sucker in the hands of Marty.
He put a bright look on his face as he entered the house, however, and found both Helen and Marty watching TV. As he noted the exposed thighs of Marty, curled up on the couch, and the white flash of her parity crotch, his anger returned. It reached a white-hot pitch, however, when his eyes fell on her ankle. She was brazenly wearing the slave bracelet he had given her. He knew by the quick sly glance she shot at him, that she had done it deliberately to remind him that he belonged to her!
Helen smiled at him, without taking her eyes from the TV screen. "Everything work out well, honey?"
Ray looked at Marty as he answered, his jaw set and his eyes hard. "Yeah, everything worked out just fine," he said, knowing that Marty was getting his message. She glanced over at him, and he motioned to her to take off the anklet. Marty understood, but she calmly turned back toward the TV, ignoring him. She moved her leg so that the ankle bracelet showed clearly, as if warning him that she was still boss.
Ray went back into the kitchen and poured some lukewarm coffee and sipped it. He knew that it was over between them. Marty was getting too damned smart. She figured she was running his life, and Ray was determined to get rid of her-to get her out of his and Helen's life once and for all. But how? He felt that if he tried to put her out and make her a ward of the state, she would blab all about their affair, to spite him. And now there was Brady to corroborate any story that Marty chose to tell! Ray was trapped. He knew it, and Marty knew it, and from now on, life would be miserable unless he did exactly what she wanted-and she wanted Helen out of the way, and Ray for her own private whipping boy and sex servant!
Ray wondered why he hadn't spotted this long before, and avoided the pitfall. It was too late now, he sighed. All he could do was to look for a sensible way out. He had to get rid of Marty, and take his chances on her blowing up, and the sooner he did it, the better off everyone would be.
Marty walked out to the kitchen, pretending to get a glass of water, but she said to him in a whisper, "You got it?"
He merely nodded, sizzling as he saw her crafty smile.
"Let me have it." It was a demand, not a request, and Ray turned in sudden rage, catching himself at the second he was about to blurt out a curse, and tell Marty off once and for all. "I said, give me the picture!" Marty repeated, between gulps of water. "Or I'll tell Helen all about this ankle bracelet. She's been dying to ask me about it all night. Now-give me the picture."
"I tore it up!" Ray lied, unconsciously letting his hand go to the pocket where it lay.
"You're a liar," she spat in a rasping whisper. She turned toward the living room door and called, "Aunt Helen-"
Ray moved quickly, digging out the picture and thrusting it into her hand. "You rotten sonofabitching whore!" He spat at her back-as she walked into the room, letting her voice sound calm as she continued, "-can I bring you a drink of something?"
He heard Helen politely refuse Marty's offer, and his nails bit into his palms as he clenched his fists. He wanted to beat the hell out of that smug little bastard. Now, she had even more ammunition to use against him-the picture. He should have called her bluff, but Ray Milford knew that the one thing his niece was not, was a bluffer. He headed for the bathroom and a cold shower, and then to bed to await Helen's coming. He had to consult with her about a way to get rid of Marty, without compromising himself, or their position in the community.
CHAPTER TEN
Ray was wide awake, staring at the ceiling, when Helen came to bed. She turned on the light, saying, "I skipped the ending of the movie, honey. I wanted to-to-well, you know." Ray was so deep in his thoughts that he had almost completely forgotten the recent pleasure he had known with Helen in bed, and of his having pretended that it was she who was sucking his cock, instead of Marty.
It was Marty who filled his mind now, but he wasn't longing for her body, as he usually did. He was trying to figure a way to rid himself of her. She was becoming too expensive a hobby-and she was just a hobby. Ray knew that now. It had much more to do with Brady, Tom, and perhaps dozens of others, for all he knew, than it did with his newfound delight with his wife. It had to do with his own manhood. He couldn't see himself as a puppet on Marty's string-one of several. She wasn't that good as a fuck. If he concentrated as hard on pleasing and fulfilling Helen, as he had on Marty, Ray was certain that it would pay off in big marital dividends. But there was Marty, big as life, and in a position to destroy all of them.. ..
Helen washed all over and entered the bedroom from the hall, taking off her robe to reveal her naked body. Ray looked at her absently, failing to see the hardened nipples, and the coy smile that she gave him as she climbed in beside him.
She snuggled up to him for a moment, her hand seeming to casually brush his soft cock as she ran it slowly over his body. Ray absently put his arm around her, letting his palm rest over her breast-it was small, but for her shape, it was ample. She began to kiss his throat and then his neck, in her mind fighting back the dread of what she wanted to do-suck his prick until he came in her mouth-and what she knew he had wanted to have her do since they had been married even before.
"Ray-I-I-" Helen began, striving for just the right words to let her husband know that she loved him and at last, she was ready-even eager-to please him with any sexual act he might desire. But Ray sat up and wrapped his arms around his knees. He too was fighting for some words to tell Helen the whole sordid story, to make one earnest effort to maintain his marriage and to rid his household of the slut who silently and unseen, like a termite, threatened to destroy it from within.
"Helen-" Ray hesitated, not looking at her. "I-I've been thinking a lot about what you said about Marty. You were right. She isn't good for us-for either one of us. She's too-I guess, sexy or oversexed. She is bound to get into trouble with men, and that will involve us-hurt you. We've got to somehow get rid of her."
Helen listened, her mouth close to his armpit. She felt her heart beat quicker at the thought that she had finally aroused her husband so much that he was thinking only of her welfare. She remembered last night, and hoped that Ray was remembering.
"It used to bother me," she said dreamily, "Marty, I mean, throwing her crotch around like she does, almost as if she wanted you to-to do something. But since last night, honey, it's different. I'm not afraid of her now. I feel as if I'm free at last-to love you the way you want me to. Can you understand what I'm saying?"
Ray leaned back and kissed her cheek. "Yes, I can. I've felt that same way myself since she came, as if I were in a sort of prison. That's why I want to get her out of our house. She's bad. She could destroy our marriage."
Helen's mouth was demanding, much like Marty's when she turned it on, but Ray's mind was not on sex. Helen mumbled against his chest, "I need you, honey;--sexually. I want to do what we did last night-only more-put her out of our life for an hour-then we can figure it out somehow, together. Please."
The words grated on Ray's conscience like a rasp. As he turned them over in his mind, he realized that Helen did have the answer. Together, they could wipe this bad stain off their marriage. Together, they could taste the joys that marriage had promised, a long time ago.
Ray turned over and took her in his arms, now aware of her soft curves, of the proudly erect nipples, and the feel of her hair-covered mound of passion that he had taken so little advantage of all these years. Suddenly desire for his wife swept him completely, and Ray bent and shoved his mouth savagely against his wife's breast, his teeth and lips nibbling and sucking, his tongue darting in and out of his mouth, until she gasped in pained pleasure and moved his face to the other side of her chest, so he could give the same pleasurable treatment to her other breast. Her hand slid downward until she found his stiff cock and she began to play with it, running her hand up and down its length, sending thrills up her own body as well as Ray's. He kept on moving downward, his lips and tongue busily touching places on her body that she had heretofore only dreamed he might, working her into a lather of desire to taste his own flesh.
Somehow they managed to reverse their positions so that his mouth was pressed to her cunt, and his rigid, throbbing prick was close to her mouth. She grabbed it in her hand and took it in her mouth, hungry for the taste and the feel of it. She was so engrossed in her own acts, so filled with desire to please him, to feel his hot semen come shooting into her mouth that she was only vaguely aware of the wild sensations he was sending through her being with his own mouth, his tongue, teeth, and lips.
She felt a closeness to this man who was her husband, as his cock went deeper and deeper inside her mouth, that she had never dreamed she could feel for any man. She sublimated her own desires for orgasm under his touch to her need to fulfill him.
Ray was in a strange daze as his tongue flicked in and out of his wife's cunt for the first time. He felt ashamed as he realized all he had held back from her, all the furious passion that he had wasted on Marty. He wanted to make it all up to her, and he went about licking and sucking her cunt as if he could do it all in one night. He forgot that she was .taking his prick deep into her mouth at that moment, something he had longed for until it ate at his guts. All Ray wanted to do was to let Helen know that he loved her as a woman, sexually, wildly, hurt-fully, but always and always, as a man loves a desirable woman.
They writhed and rolled in their efforts to take all of the other's flesh in their mouths that was possible. Ray wallowed in the dank, womanly smell of her cunt, and at spaced intervals he let his tongue roam from her vagina to sweep upward and wash her asshole with its loving touch. He felt her response, and as they both neared a climax they became aware of the other's touch and eased off the animalistic fury of their passion, both trying to put the softness of love into their sexual actions.
When Ray let himself go, shooting a huge mass of semen into Helen's throat, he immediately wondered if she would be nauseated by it, or gag and throw up. And as he buried his mouth deeper into her cunt, his fingers touching the inside of her, while his tongue massaged her clitoris with the touch of love, she wondered about her feminine hygiene. Did she give off an offensive odor from her genitals? Was his nose close to her asshole, inhaling the smell of shit that hadn't been wiped away carefully enough? Strange thoughts, Helen mused, but then, the thoughts of a woman in love so deeply that she was at last able to face the truth.
So wrapped up in each other were they that neither were aware that they were making loud, harsh, hungry noises. Nor were they aware that those noises had been heard and recognized for what they were by Marty, whose door had been open for a long time. Nor were they aware that she was standing outside their open door, listening to their words, hating the sounds of their lovemaking, seething as she felt their bodies melt into each other's.
She stood there, occasionally sneaking a glimpse inside, despite the hurt it was giving her. She was losing Ray! She had failed. She was a nothing. She had lost her hold on Brady, and now, she was losing Ray, to this thirty-six-year-old frump he had married. She was a witch, using magic powers on him. It just wasn't possible that Ray, her lover, would prefer Helen to her-it was a dream!
But it wasn't a dream. It was happening. Their moans of ecstasy proved the depths of their passion. Marty knew the sound that was coming from Ray only too well. It couldn't be faked or disguised.
She listened as they changed position, after each had brought the other to a climax with their mouths. She heard Helen mouthing her love for her husband, and Ray telling her of his. She heard the sounds of their kisses, and after he had inserted his cock inside her cunt, while she moaned and puffed her delight, she heard their bodies, wet with sweat, slamming against each other as Ray plunged his cock into her, and she cringed against the wall as their moans of love mingled with the sounds of sex being performed by two passionate people.
She looked at the faint glitter of the slave bracelet she held in her hand, the faint light from the far window sending tiny droplets of golden light from it that, to her, seemed like tears flying into space.
She couldn't tear herself from the spot until the last gasp's of joy had come from the pair on the bed, and they lay back, reveling in the afterglow of love that has been fulfilled. She wanted to go back to her room, but she couldn't. She was riveted to the spot as she heard Ray's voice say calmly, "Helen, honey, we've got to get Marty out of this house, and soon."
"Oh, Ray," she heard Helen say quickly, "Maybe I've been too hard on her. After all, she is just a little girl. She's bewildered, she's lost her mother-maybe it's been our fault she's so-so wild. And maybe she hasn't really been wild," Helen rushed on in Marty's defense. "Maybe we've been imagining things."
"No!" Ray replied sharply, "we haven't been imagining things. She's been using her body to get things from men, and I know this to be a fact. She has made a play for Tom, and if I hadn't warned him, she'd have wrecked his life. You remember the night-"
He broke off and as if from a great distance, Marty heard Helen say, "Yes, but-"
"No buts! She's a menace. She's sex mad! I heard that she has been tangled up with some teacher at school, and though I can't actually prove it, I think there are others. You know about that collection of hers-that was just a reminder to her of all the men she had seduced and conned out of trinkets to put on that bracelet. Before she causes tragedy, she's got to go."
His voice was firm, and Helen knew that it would be useless to argue further. In the hall, outside their door, Marty was half sobbing, half furious. She had been betrayed completely by Ray. Not only was he planning to get rid of her, but he had turned completely to his wife for sex kicks. But the first mood passed quickly and, as she listened to them talk of ways to ship her to some state institution, hurt was replaced by anger and embarrassment gave way to determination. She would show Ray-and Helen. Marty Wells wasn't through yet. She still had some top cards to play!
She went back to her room after she heard their conversation end with a tender exchange of words and, a few moments later, she heard Ray's soft snores and Helen's deep, rhythmic breathing.
She put the light on after closing the door, and held the ankle bracelet in her hand, studying the initials engraved on it, her mouth a hard line. She took the photo from her drawer and stared at it. She wondered what Helen would have to say about that! The look of pure lust on their faces was irrefutable evidence that she and Ray were completely satisfied with each other. She looked at the picture with contempt, envisioning how she could make Ray come crawling and whining, if she threatened to show it to Helen-or to his friends.
She was still the boss, and she would upset their little plan to dump her. She didn't know how, but she would. As she fell into a fitful sleep, Marty's thoughts were filled with Ray's face, and he was crawling on his knees, begging her to let him kiss her pussy, huge tears were streaming down his face. In her fantasy, Marty reached out and laughingly wiped her fingers over his cheek, her fingers becoming wet with his tears. She awakened, sobbing, to find that the wetness on her hands was her own tears, and she lay there, staring into the night, wondering why she still loved a man who was planning her downfall.
* * *
The house was filled with pretended sweetness the next morning. Helen was exceedingly gentle with her niece, trying hard to conceal the pity that she couldn't help but feel for her. Ray had left for work, and no further discussion had arisen concerning Marty's status. As Helen covertly looked at her niece, she noted the circles under her eyes, and she was filled with sympathy for the girl. Helen recalled her own early teen years, when the juices of sexual growth had made strange demands on her body. She remembered the suppressed feeling that she had undergone while going with Ray-the wanting to take that last step to full intercourse, and the deeply rooted mores that had been instilled in her by her puritanical parents-the heavy guilt feelings that had restricted her freedom to love for all these years-until only two nights ago, in fact.
Marty seemed listless as she pecked at her breakfast, and Helen tried to cheer her by saying, "I'm going shopping this afternoon, Marty. Can I get you anything-cosmetics, some underwear?" Marty shot a quick glance at her, for the overuse of cosmetics had been a sore point with Helen since Marty had arrived. Marty thought bitterly that Helen must believe that she could afford to be generous, now that she had won the battle for Ray. Well, she had another think coming. Marty wasn't defeated, nor was she even thinking in terms of total defeat.
A half-sleepless night had convinced her of one thing: regardless of what Ray was planning, Marty was truly in love with him, and she had no intention of giving up without a furious fight. In a mental double take, Marty remembered an hour later that Helen had said she was going shopping that afternoon. That meant that there would be an opportunity to see Ray, if only for a few moments, and that would be enough, Marty knew. Once Ray saw and touched her naked body again, he would quickly forget all about Helen, and her new sexual freedom.
She called Ray during a break between classes, and when he answered the phone, Marty detected a testiness in his voice when he discovered it was her.
"I have to see you, Ray," Marty said imperiously. "Helen's going shopping this afternoon. I want to meet you at the house at two o'clock. It's important."
Ray replied sharply, "Look, I've got a business to take care of. And besides, this has got to stop-this thing between us. I've decided-"
"And I've decided, too!" Marty interrupted, the sharpness in her voice matching that of his. "I said I want to see you. You'd better be there. Two, sharp!" She slammed the phone back onto the hook and stood scowling at it. She wondered what she really would do if Ray didn't show up. Would she have the guts to show Helen the picture and explain the story of the slave bracelet? Marty had no doubts as to what Helen would do, if she found out.
She was nervous until the bell rang at fifteen minutes before two, and she hastily piled her books in her locker and headed for home at a rapid walk. When she arrived, she didn't see Ray's car, but she knew that he might have parked it some distance away, so the neighbors wouldn't know that he was home in the middle of the day. Marty entered the house, using her key, and found Ray waiting for her, looking angry. When she walked into the kitchen, he was tapping his fingers nervously on the table. He shot a baleful glance at her and snapped, "What's this all about? You sounded pretty snotty on the phone."
Marty looked coldly at him. "You know what it's about. To save you some lies, I'll tell you that I was outside your bedroom door, in the hall, last night, while you were making such mad, passionate love to Helen. And I also overheard some other juicy gossip that you gave her about me."
Ray looked like he would explode. He turned first red, then white, as rage gathered within him. She was going to try to use the photo and the bracelet to beat him into submission again. Well, he resolved, it wouldn't work. He had already risked enough, just for a crack at her young body. He gazed at her, eying her from head to foot, noticing the slave bracelet attached to her ankle. It made him even more cold inside, as he mentally compared her slim young shape with that of the more mature form of his wife. He wondered vaguely whether it would have deterred him from his affair with Marty, had Helen mellowed sooner, and excited him as she now did. He dismissed the idea, thinking that Marty was Marty, and if she had set her cap for him, she would have managed it some way.
"Then you know how I feel about you," Ray said.
"You don't know how you feel about me," Marty came back, beginning to unbutton her sweater. "The only time you really can trust your feelings is when you've got that big cock inside my mouth or my cunt. Then, it's the real man who is thinking."
She peeled off the sweater, and Ray could not keep his eyes from the round, white mounds of flesh that she boldly thrust at him. The soft pink of her nipples caused a ripple of desire to run through his loins, and he felt as if he wanted to run, for he wasn't sure that he could withstand the sight of her naked body, that had brought him so much pleasure, in spite of Helen and his decision to get rid of Marty.
She was stepping out of her skirt, then she peeled off her filmy panties, and stood there nude, except for the gently gleaming ankle bracelet she wore. There was a hard look in her eyes as she watched Ray's eyes being drawn to her crotch and her slim, girlish legs. She could almost see the battle going on within him.
"Now-" Marty said, posing with her breasts jutted out, her hands on her hips so that her pelvis was shoved out invitingly, "-do you still want to get rid of me? You know damned well that whatever Helen can offer, I can double."
Ray stared at the partially opened cunt lips, seeing the gleaming wetness of the pink interior. He could almost feel his cock sliding into that inviting gateway to love, and he squirmed in his chair as he felt his prick growing hard. He tried to replace the reality of Marty with the remembrance of Helen's body, but it didn't work. Marty was too close, too real and inviting. She had gone too deep into his blood to allow him to merely discard her now, like a pair of old shoes.
Ray was sweating as he rose. Little droplets of perspiration dotted his upper lip and his temples as he went over to her, his hands reaching out almost without his mind directing them, to caress the softness of her.
He enfolded her in his arms and their mouths met, and in one second, all his strength and resolve melted into the juncture of their bodies. His hands went down to caress one rounded asscheek, and the other found her hot pussy and began to rub it hard, one finger darting in and touching her love nub, causing her to draw even closer to him and to suck his tongue deep into her mouth.
"Oh, Ray, Ray," Marty mumbled through the kiss, "I can't give you up. I love you, I love you. I need you so badly-now!"
Ray was rubbing his stiffening prick against the pubic hairs of her cunt, almost ready to explode with need for her while a battle raged inside him. He hated her, but he wanted her body so badly that nothing else seemed to matter at the moment. He swept her into his arms and carried her into his bedroom, placing her naked form on the neatly made bed. With trembling hands, he peeled off his clothes, his eyes riveted on her parted legs and wide-open pussy.
Marty lay watching him, her hands caressing her breasts, shoving the nipples up and out, tormenting him and making him pant with his need for her. He looked at her hazy eyes, wondering how he could want her so much, yet detest her as he did.
Naked, he moved toward her, his cock bobbing up and down as he moved. He crawled onto the bed on his hands and knees, and she reached out and grabbed his head, pulling his face down to her parted pussy lips. He could smell the sweet woman smell of her vagina, and it aroused him to a fever pitch. He willingly locked his mouth to her cunt, his tongue going in quickly, seeking out the hard nub of her clitoris, caressing it, sucking it, nibbling at it with his teeth.
She lay staring at the ceiling, her hand on his head, guiding his tongue strokes. Her mouth was curled into a tight little smile of triumph, and her eyes were pools of lust as Ray let his weight down and put one hand under her, so he could caress her asshole with one hand, while he ran the other over her cunt, then dug his fingers in deep.
Marty was gasping with joy, but there was a new element now. She had won! Ray was hers-he would always be hers alone. He was truly her slave, and his name would .always belong on the bracelet she wore that signified her ownership of him and his domination of her body.
She forgot all about her motives, all about Helen and the plot to dump her, in the hot, overwhelming lust that swept over her as Ray brought her to a fever pitch with his tongue and probing hands.
Ray, too, could only find room in his thoughts for this delicious young body that was his alone for the taking. Helen was forgotten, as she had been for so long, and his tongue and his fingers were touching the only person who mattered in the whole world. To hell with tomorrow, or even the hours ahead-they were here, loving, exciting each other, doing what they were made to do-what both needed and wanted more than anything on earth.
As he felt her clitoris twitch rapidly as she moaned in orgasm, Ray became like a hungry animal. His finger dug in and out of her asshole while his other hand clawed at the inside of her cunt, as if he wanted to pull huge pieces of it out and devour it. His tongue held a strong pressure on her throbbing knob, and, as she relaxed after her come, Ray lost all reserve and began to bite savagely at her clit. Marty reacted in kind, bucking, sobbing, moaning, but shoving her pelvis up high, arching her back so he could go even deeper into her.
When he could stand it no longer, Ray rolled her over on her face, spread her ass-cheeks and began to ream out her asshole with his tongue. His hands were busy probing underneath her, digging into her cunt, massaging the clitoris, clawing at the inner walls, driving her to a gasping, sobbing hill top of desire.
"Fuck me, Ray, darling-" Marty moaned. "Up the ass-any way-just put it into me-please, please!"
Ray raised up and crawled up on her body as she got to her knees, resting her top torso on her elbows. Marty peered down between her widespread legs, watching Ray as he moved close to her, his cock in his hand, his movements jerky and uncertain with his desire. She felt his burning cock enter her asshole, and a moment later, as it penetrated deep and she moved her buttocks to allow it to go even deeper, she felt Ray's hand go underneath her and his fingers found her clitoris and began to rub it and dig his nails into it hungrily.
They were in a haze of lust, unaware of anything that was taking place in the world outside their bodies, when Helen walked into her bedroom and stared in disbelief at the rutting pair! She couldn't believe that her husband was on their own bed, with his hard prick shoved deeply into the asshole of his niece! They were like animals without conscience or decency. All they knew was the lust for one another that animals felt! This was Ray-the man she loved and married, and to whom she had given all she had to give. And he was committing incest with his own niece!
Then she fainted dead away, falling to the floor with a heavy thud that the pair on the bed did not even notice. Their faces were turned away from the door, and their own moans and heavy breathing drowned out any sound she had made. As they approached climax, Helen stirred slightly and moaned, but they did not hear her. Marty and Ray were too involved in satisfying their bodily lusts to have cared or even halted, had they known she was on the floor.
Nor did either of them know that a shadow had followed Helen into the bedroom, and now lurked in the corner, awaiting the precise moment to strike at three lives.
