It was noon, a warm Saturday in August; Phillip Gates sat at the desk in the den of his suburban split-level home with several law books opened before him, while he watched subconsciously through the window the provocative full contours of shapely Beth Tierney, their next-door neighbor, who, clad in the briefest of white bikinis, was pretending at puttering with her flower beds. He noted further that the wisps of cloth straining to cover her generous endowments were wet, offering an almost diaphanous quality that caused him to swallow tightly. She had evidently just climbed out of their pool and it occurred to him suddenly that her damned near naked presence right in front of his window might not be coincidental. She was aware that he studied there on Saturday afternoons; besides, she had mentioned something to that effect when she and Jack, her husband, were over last night.
All the same, she offered no sign of awareness to his being there, but kept her head down as if she were taken up with her task, while Phillip watched her full rounded buttocks move smoothly beneath the skintight, partially covering briefs, the rich cleft separating her buttocks obvious to him as she squatted teasingly, her back to him, then worked herself around on her haunches until he was gaping along her smooth white thighs to the vee of her crotch where the material inlaid snugly, suggestively, outlining the soft creased mound of her vaginal lips.
At first, when she appeared, he'd watched her rather idly, subliminally, he supposed, his mind too occupied with his studies, plus the Party Convention in the Capital come Monday, then, all of a sudden he'd sensed a stirring inside his shorts and realized that his neighbor was stimulating his erotic appetite. The genital reflex startled him first off; he'd never paid that much attention to their sensually attractive neighbor . . . no more than the standard niceties and raillery one expounds upon a friend, and certainly he'd seen her hustling around often enough in those skimpy, tantalizing outfits she chose to wear, and he'd spent enough time in her company to get a charge from her before this, it seemed . . . Then, a few of her not so casual pointed remarks, fetching smiles and enticing body contacts. briefly filtered through his mind and he traced his tongue over his dry lips . . . Cripes, had he been so engrossed with his work, studies and politics that he was oblivious to the more earthy things going on right under his nose? Hell . . . he grinned bitterly to himself, face it, man. That gnawing in your belly is nothing more than a holdover from last night's botch with Laurie.
He swallowed distastefully at that recollection, just as he heard his lovely young wife descending the short flight of stairs from where she had been packing and preparing for their three-day stay at the coming convention, with all of the fuss one might expect necessary for a six-month cruise. She appeared in the doorway to his right and smiled beautifully.
"Like some coffee, darling?" she said, hands on hips, elbows back, causing her full, erect breasts to strain against the thin, green material of the scanty halter endeavoring to contain them.
"No, thanks," he replied, his vision leveling on the smooth white flesh of her naked midriff and the lush swelling contour of her rounded hips in the matching, tight green shorts she wore.
Damn, he was engulfed by tantalizing female flesh . . . Look, but don't touch, he thought drily. "I'll settle for a bourbon-soda though." He forced a little smile. "If you don't mind . . ."
Laurie Gates returned his smile with a warm, green-eyed like-expression of her own, meant to disarm him. She knew what he was implying . . . last night still very vivid in her own memory.
"Sure . . . Why should I mind, Honey?"
She went off leaving him to catch another glance at Beth Tierney who was bent forward toward him, her lush white breasts, all but their tips, completely exposed to him, and momentarily, he swore that would happen in a burst of glory if she leaned over one more fraction of an inch. Then Laurie entered carrying an ice-tinkling, partially filled glass and his eyes locked on her once more.
She was wearing her shoulder-length, strawberry-blonde hair in thick braids wound cleverly up on top of her head. She looked like a child, her hair that way and with no sticky makeup to mar her natural cream-like complexion . . . those wide sea-green eyes, straight little nose and full, perpetually pouting lower lip . . . even younger than her nineteen years, he thought, remembering back a year when he'd met her and she was "Home Coming Queen" . . . She set the drink on his desk then crossed the room to the little table where he had tossed the daily mail. He watched the rolling sway of her generous, spherical buttocks and the long, tapering ivory columns of her perfectly formed legs as she moved gracefully away from him.
Christ, he thought, I have no right . . . absolutely no right . . .!
"Sooo . . . that's what you've been watching instead of studying, eh?" she said, a teasing lilt to her voice; and he saw her looking beyond him through the window at their neighbor who had bent down to retrieve something, the lusty, almost completely naked moons of her full, rounded buttocks staring directly at them. She dropped the mail and moved up beside his chair to watch. "My God, Beth might as well be naked . . . she certainly isn't leaving much to the imagination;" she remarked, gasping at the tall raven-haired girl as she continued to bend and squat unconcernedly, puttering with her flowers.
Phillip sensed his face reddening. "Don't be ridiculous," he snapped, shuffling about in his chair. "I've got more important things on my mind . . ."
"Oh Honey, come on," Laurie laughed cutely. "Don't tell me you haven't been ogling Beth's charms . . .?"
He cut her short. "Look, Beth Tierney could be running around out there bare-asked for all the difference it would make to me," he lied, moving books and papers around on his desk nervously. "Right now, I can hardly study. All I can think of is the Party nomination for governor coming up and how to keep Mark Coleman from getting it."
Laurie placed the full, firm cheeks of her round buttocks on the edge of his desk and studied him. "What does Uncle Julian say?" she asked softly.
"He hasn't committed himself," Phillip answered, tasting his drink. "But I can't imagine him endorsing Coleman . . . knowing that he's completely dominated by that scheming wife of his . . ."
"You don't think that Mark Coleman would make a good Governor?" she questioned, watching his disturbed, almost ruthless dark-eyes.
"Byron Acker would make a better one."
"He's the City Councilman, isn't he?"
"Yes, and an honest, sincere man . . ."
"I've seen Mrs. Coleman several times," Laurie said. "She's very beautiful. Have you ever seen her, Darling?"
Phillip felt the blood rushing to his face again. He avoided her eyes and grunted something unintelligible as he began to fidget with his books once more. "I have to get back to studying if I'm ever going to be ready for my Bar Exams," he said, flipping pages, as though he were concentrating.
Laurie moved from his desk to stand beside him. She draped her arm around his neck, her hand resting on his shoulder. "You're trying to do too much, Darling," she said softly. "Going to school nights . . . working in the District Attorney's office through the day, plus getting yourself all wrapped up in Uncle Julian's politics . . ."
"Your Uncle Julian is the most powerful man in this state, Laurie. Whoever Judge Reed chooses to endorse as his candidate will win the nomination of the party and will undoubtedly be the next Governor. The Reed Machine is that strong. . . and I intend to have it behind me one-day. In order to do that I've got to work and show your Uncle Julian I deserve it."
"Is it worth it, Phillip?" she questioned seriously. "Are you sure that's what you really want . . . a political career?"
"Of course, I'm sure," he snapped, his eyes raking her face critically. "What makes you say such a thing? Why in hell do you think I'm breaking my back night and day . . .?"
"That's exactly what I mean, Darling. We . . . we hardly see anything of one another now, and we've only been married six-months. What's it going to be like when you're completely into politics? I mean . . . don't you intend to practice law at all . . .?"
Phillip's lean face seemed to narrow even more. She'd irked him, unintentionally, but she had. Now, she was sorry that she had said anything at all.
"Your concerning yourself with matters that are my personal business, Laurie," he snapped, "I'll make the living in this house, and decide how it's to be made." He paused, staring at her sharply. "I think you'd do better if you applied yourself to more wifely duties . . . such as learning how to make love to your husband, eh?"
Now, it was Laurie's turn to blush. His words had sliced into her like a keen knife blade and he knew it. Immediately, he was sorry; it had been an unnecessary, short-tempered remark . . . he was so damnably on edge. She started to leave, her head down to hide the tears and he caught her by the hand.
"Please. . . ," she said, trying to tug herself free.
"No . . . I'm sorry, Laurie . . . I didn't mean that," he stammered. "I . . . I just don't know what I'm saying these days, I guess . . . Please, I . . . I don't want us to quarrel."
Laurie studied her handsome, twenty-six year old husband's troubled face for a long moment through tear-dimmed eyes. Finally, she said "That's what I was trying to tell you . . . You've taken too much on your shoulders . . . as if your studies aren't enough right now, you've involved yourself in this political thing . . ."
Phillip started to speak, thought better of it and just listened. There was no way he could explain his reasoning, or the vindictiveness that kept his whole inner-being in a constant turmoil . and would continue to do so until he'd satisfied his vengeance upon Dianne Coleman and her drunken puppet senator husband. Nothing else mattered to him . . . absolutely nothing, nor would it ever until he'd finished with his vendetta . . . But these were his own hidden secrets; there was no way he could explain to the lovely young girl before him without actually destroying himself in her eyes . . . and he didn't want that, at least, at this point, either. Instead, he pretended to listen, nodding his head.
". . . And I was hoping we'd have such a nice time at the convention," she was saying . . . She sighed. "What I really hoped, I guess, was that you and I . . . well, being together for three whole days and nights . . . it would be almost like a little honeymoon, and maybe we'd find each other . . ."
Phillip smiled. "Of course, Baby, I understand . . . but you've got to remember that this is a political convention. I'm going to be plenty busy, you know . . . probably won't have as much time for you as we'd like . . ."
"But we will have our nights, Phillip," she hastened to add, then questioningly: "Won't we?"
He drew her to him and sat her down on his lap; she placed her lips on his and kissed him warmly. Finally, he said: "We'll arrange it so that we have our nights together, Honey . . ." He kissed her again, brushing her lips with his tongue, the touch of her soft, voluptuous body . . . the feel and weight of her buttocks and thigh pressed tightly onto his hardening penis rekindling the desire his neighbors scantily clad body had awakened moments earlier.
She sighed once more, relaxing in his arms and trailing her fingertips caressingly along his temples. He felt like some kind of hypocrite.
He'd had no right marrying her in the first place when he didn't love her. It was the cruelest thing he had ever done in his life . . . but she'd been his key into Rio Lado's social circle. . . the country club-set . . . into the very political world that Dianne and Senator Mark Coleman were involved in, and nothing, or no one, mattered except the revenge he sought, the complete destruction of his betraying childhood sweetheart, beautiful Dianne Coleman. God, he doubted that he would ever stop loving her. . . or hating her: he lived only, it seemed, for the sweet taste of revenge on that day soon when it would come to pass.
Of course, Laurie was completely innocent, unaware of this thwarted love he carried sealed away in a vengeful heart. It was probably the last thing he would've revealed of himself. Only Dianne and he knew what she had done to him by eloping with her employer, Mark Coleman, then an attorney and one of the city's leading and wealthiest bachelors. She had come to Rio Lado from her home in New Hampshire to become his own wife, Phillip remembered. They hadn't wanted to wait any longer and he still had two-years of law school to complete, but then he'd been taken ill and while recuperating from a lung operation . . . it had all happened.
Some year and a half ago, yet it seemed almost a lifetime . . . At first, he'd wanted to die; he'd been that heartbroken, but gradually those morose feelings had given way to sheer bitterness and rage, until there was nothing left but ruthless hate and avengement within him, constantly churning and saturating his brain, even as they were at that very moment.
Yet, simultaneously, these ruttish sensations were agitating his loins and for one brief interval he actually forgot all else but the stimulating presence of this enticing creature in his arms. He continued to kiss her as he held her tight to him, pressing his tongue between her soft wet lips, tasting the sweetness of her mouth . . . still feeling very much like a Judas as his shaft lurched beneath her.
"Darling . . ," she whispered, drawing back her head to better see him. "Are you angry with me?"
"Angry . . .? What for?" he pretended, knowing well what she was getting at.
"Last night . . . the way I acted . . . spoiling it all for you . . . for both of us . . ."
"Don't be silly," he said, smiling, then bringing her mouth to his once again, his tongue immediately seeking entry and feeling a slight tremor ripple over her lithe young body against him. He heard her sharp intake of breath as he slipped his hand inside the halter to cup one full, resilient breast, tenderly rolling its swelling, tiny pink nipple into a distended hardness before she could squirm free of him.
"Darling . . . not in front of the window," she said, her smile confused, almost embarrassed. "Beth might see us . . ."
"To hell with Beth!" Phillip snapped, but it was enough to break the shallow mood for him, and he withdrew his hand from her breasts with an obvious air of disgust, pressing her to her feet while he tried to manipulate his jerking organ into a more comfortable and less obvious position inside his shorts.
She smiled openly, staring at the front of his trousers. "Did I do that, Darling?"
"Forget it," he replied sharply. "Like I do most of the time. It'll go away . . . it always does." He swung back to his books, watching her smile fade out of the corner of his eye, then, with lowered head she walked from the room and he heard her climbing the stairs.
Goddamnit, he'd said it and he wasn't sorry. He'd had enough of her damned prudish morals in the last six months to last him a lifetime. Not once since they'd been married could he remember her even coming close to letting herself go and trying to enjoy sex with him. Christ knows, it was difficult enough for him to even pretend, but her constant: "Oh Phillip, don't do that . . ." or, "Do you have to be such an animal about it? Oh, Darling, please . . . those perversions make me feel so dirty . . ."
Damnit, it'd been more enjoyable with her in the back seat of his car before they were married . . . at least, he'd had a goal to shoot for then . . . but it was a good thing she hadn't let him go-all the way, he mused bitterly, as his prick gave an aching jerk, or else they probably wouldn't be married right now . . .
Well, that wasn't true either, he thought, again feeling like a Pharisee. He hadn't married her for love, had he . . . just gain. Besides, she really wasn't to blame for the hang-ups her missionary parents had steeped her in . . . twisted little quirks that could be overcome with patience and time . . . and a loving husband. She was nineteen, still a child . . . and she loved him. God, how he'd used her!
He couldn't study; his mind was confused. Dianne crept into his thoughts, but he forced her out quickly. Instead, he tried to concentrate on his own ambitions; they were the only solace he could ever seem to find . . . the only self-satisfying reasons behind the ruthless things he had done to further his own ends. God knows, they were all that had kept him going after Dianne . . .
It'd been shortly following his meeting Laurie that the student revolt and demonstrations had started at the University, and he'd thrown himself into it, feeling their causes and demands to be just, suddenly finding himself the unappointed leader. Laurie had been frightened because of her uncle, Judge Julian Reed, afraid that he would refuse to let her have anything to do with a radical, but as it turned out, his own bringing of all parties concerned to the table and settling the thing to the satisfaction of both students and authorities, had gained him considerable publicity, until the obese Judge and kingmaker began to look upon him as a possible political figure of the future.
He'd never considered the field of politics prior to that episode, but once the Judge had instilled the thought in his mind, the idea of killing two birds with one stone had quickly registered. He immediately saw himself on the same level with Dianne, and moving in the same circles socially. How better to get at her, to destroy her than from within the very world she lived, while at the same time, furthering his own career! And to secure it all . . . assure himself that the Judge could have no change of heart, he'd marry his precious niece, tie it all up in one little knot . . . and he had, even to accepting Uncle Julian's "string-pulling" in obtaining him a position in the District Attorney's office, and the down-payment on this thirty-thousand dollar home in exclusive Carlton-Dell.
Why not, he thought acrimoniously to himself. Why not take all he could get? Wasn't that the way it was done by the unscrupulous . . . the people who amounted to a damn in this world? Well . . . he wasn't sorry for a single thing he'd done, or intended to do, and whoever got hurt in the course of events had his sympathy . . . that was all, just his sympathy!
He picked up his glass and drank from it while sounds of Laurie moving about him came to his ears. Once again, he began to watch the enticing figure of Beth Tierney engage in some intriguing bends, wiggles and thrusts. Damn . . . she did have one tight looking ass all right . . . and he'd gamble that she knew how to use it. Jack Tierney was the type of fellow who'd demand that from a woman . . . big, muscular, athletic Jack . . . a pretty fair architect too.
Phillip tilted the glass to his lips while he contemplated some of Beth's more recent actions that had caused the sudden stimulation to his libido, after knowing her all these months. Like last night when they were all assembled in his living room and he'd just come in from a political confab with the Judge. He'd been damn near exhausted with school five nights a week, after working all day, and politics on top of that, not excited a bit at seeing them there, but after a few drinks he'd picked up, even to the point of taking part in the dancing. It'd been one of those slow, romantic numbers and Jack, Beth's husband, had chosen Laurie for a partner, so he'd done the gentlemanly thing and extended a hand to Beth . . . Damnit, the more thought he gave to it, there was no question but what she had really ground her cunt right into him . . . and all of the time whispering little goodies like: "Gosh, 'it's too damned bad you're not around more, Phillip Gates . . ." and, "I'll wager we'd have some dandy times . . . just you and I, Doll . . . given half an opportunity . . ."
Where the hell had he been, anyway? Allowing such obvious "come ons" to soar right over the top of his skull. Hell, this sexy piece of pulchritude was trying to make him! Maybe he didn't want any, but was that any excuse for being so stupid as to not be aware when the dessert was being offered?
He shook his head, finished his drink and smiled to himself at his own asininity. No wonder he had gone after Laurie like a rutting bull moose last night!
* * *
Laurie moved about their bedroom trying desperately not to break into outright tears. His words had slashed deeply into her. God, he could be cruel . . . and she'd tried so hard to understand, knowing the strain he was under with the workload he was trying to shoulder. If there was only some way she could help; she felt utterly useless to him, even in . . . no, especially in, bed. Oh, God, she didn't want to think anymore about that.
She stared at the two valises she had started packing yesterday morning and left open to add odds and ends as she thought of them. She had so wanted to make these three-days they would have together their most rnemorable ones to date . . . at least, sexually memorable. Dear God, she loved him so much . . . and it was as if she had actually watched him change from the sweet, attentive boy-man she'd fallen in love with, to an almost ruthlessly ambitious, and feelingless robot.
Sometimes, she felt as if she were but a prop in the whole scene . . . a tool meant to be used by both her Uncle and her husband. Perhaps it wasn't fair to think such a thing, but she did, nevertheless. She couldn't help it.
Since that tragic day when word had come from the Nigerian government explaining that her missionary parents had lost their lives, and she had come to live with her Uncle Julian where she could finish her education at the University of Rio Lado, she had been plagued with a feeling of uselessness . . . of being an unwanted burden to her retired and widowed, mother's brother. She had never before seen the man, having been born and raised in the East, then traveling from one country to another with her parents, wherever their calling would take them. And now, as she recalled that first meeting with the powerful Judge, she remembered how shocked she'd been at the initial sight of him.
His obesity had startled her speechless, and the fact that he was forced to employ a wheelchair for mobility even though he was not at all impaired of limb, seemed almost unfeasible to her. She remembered that he had grinned at her with a little, baby-like mouth in the center of his massively bloated face. Near nausea had gripped at her stomach, but somehow she'd fought it and managed to smile back at him, while he stared at her through tiny, wet, and unquestionable lecherous blue-eyes set deep in the puffs of fat on either side of a button-nose, gaping and raking her supple young body lasciviously, his small pointed tongue popping out to lick at red, wormish lips. From that day forward to the last day she had lived under his roof, he had continuously tried to put his hands on her, but always in the guise of parent-like affection, fondling when he could, or brushing his hands unconsciously against her breasts or buttocks, until she learned to carefully stay beyond his reach. Yet, she had never hated him . . . just grown to pity him, and when he'd finally agreed to let her marry Phillip . . . gave them an expensive church ceremony and the down-payment on this house as a wedding present, she had even come to love him a little.
He had been good to them, letting her leave school to become Phillip's wife, getting her new husband a place in the D. A.'s office, plus all the other little things she didn't think of right at that moment, but she couldn't help believe he had ulterior motives of his own. Maybe, once more, she was being unfair, but she'd come to know Julian Reed both as a guardian. and as the powerful kingmaker . . . and she couldn't imagine him doing anything that wouldn't evolve into some personal gain for himself. Lately, she was convinced she'd discovered the answer to that in Phillip's political future . . . Uncle Julian intended to one day manipulate him into the Capital, and own his soul in the bargain.
Several times she had wanted to discuss it with Phillip, but her attempts were invariably futile and clumsy; she just didn't know how to reach this man she loved so deeply. He would sit and stare at her, until she actually felt like an imbecile . . . until she had to get away from his presence and cry the thing out of her. She felt so damned alone . . .
God, she didn't know what she would do if it weren't for Beth and Jack right next door . . . probably lose her mind with loneliness. Yet, there were those evenings, sitting in their living-room and watching TV with them, waiting for Phillip to come home and seeing them cuddling and teasing; it practically turned her inside out, she would want her Phillip so badly. Then, there were all the little things Beth and Jack said, small hints they dropped about "barrels of fun" they could all enjoy together if Phil was ever home.
"I think that husband of yours is making a political widow of you, Baby. He must be some kind of stupe, letting a luscious creature like you galavant around alone at night," Jack had said, grinning and shaking his head.
"But he can't help it; he's going to school," she had replied, her aggravation obvious. "He'd be home if he could . . ."
"If it were me, I'd quit," said Jack. "No cluck in his near-right mind is going to let such a delectable dish waste away waiting for her man to come home and take care of her."
"You just tend to your own knitting, Lover," Beth had chimed in, snuggling closer to him on the davenport where they sat. "You've got all the stitching you can handle right here."
Jack shrugged good naturedly. "Just trying to be helpful, Little-One. Look, Laurie-baby, you get too lonesome for lovin', come on over and squeeze in bed with us, eh Honey? We'll fit her in, won't we?"
"Sure . . . why not? Beth had said, laughing suggestively and causing Laurie to blush, but she'd managed to laugh, too, knowing it was all a joke and in fun.
Now, Laurie seated herself slowly on the edge of their bed where she had placed the valises and began to rearrange his shirts for the dozenth time, handling them lovingly, while a melange of thoughts continued to occupy her brain. Tiny tears of emotional affection at the mere touch of his possessions momentarily dimmed her eyes. She loved him so much . . . so very, very much. And she'd tried so desperately to reach him, to make him understand and know her love, but there seemed no way to span the almost heartless distance he kept between them . . . Sometimes, it were as if his mind were a million miles away, as if he were harboring some tremendous inner burden that he didn't want her to know existed.
She had so looked forward to these three days and nights coming up together in the Capital. She'd pretty near convinced herself that this break in their routine could be the secret catalyst necessary in making a complete woman of her . . . a sexually fulfilled woman . . . helping her let herself go the way he wanted her to . . .
After last night, she was ready to place her hope in anything. He'd come at her like . . . like an animal, his wild lust-hardened thing throbbing and brutal . . . She shuddered at the memory of it and the cruel manner in which he'd thrown himself on top of her, half drunk, his face a mask of lust as he plunged his blunt, thick shaft of flesh into her unprepared vagina without the slightest hint of mercy, or fear of damaging her inwardly. He'd ignored her agonized pleas entirely, his eyes glazed in his drunken desire, shoving her legs back until her knees ground into her full, soft breasts, his long, wicked penis battering into the very depths of her sensitive womb. She was still sore . . . but even so, she couldn't help remembering the sudden sensations of spontaneous elation he had briefly aroused within her belly and loins before he'd unceremoniously emptied his boiling sperm into her, then rolled away from her in apparent disgust. She'd reached out to him at that moment, the electrifying spasms alive and titillating inside her, but he'd shrugged her off angrily and fell into an almost immediate exhausted stupor. As usual, she'd cried herself to sleep.
This morning, neither had mentioned the fiasco and she found herself wondering if he even remembered. There'd been so many similar bedroom disasters in their short marriage, but she couldn't help it; she just could not bring herself to wanton sex the way he expected. God, why couldn't he understand that . . . have patience with her and be gentle? Instead of trying to force her into those debasing, perverted acts that went against the very grain of her soul; she was certain now that with a little tenderness, just a measure of tolerance on his part, that she, too, could . . . She blushed at the very thought.
A slight tingling stirred within her young, soft, sensual body as he realized how close she had come last night. If he hadn't been drinking and so tired . if Beth and Jack hadn't stayed so long . . . if, if, if!
Suddenly, sounds of Phillip in the den below brought her back to the moment, at hand. She stood and went to her vanity for a tissue to dab at her eyes. It certainly would do her no damned good to brood over what was already done; it was what lay ahead that counted. Those three days could only be as good for them as she made them . . . and after all, she did have the equipment for it, she thought quite practically, studying her lush, curvaceous reflection in the mirror . . . if only she could let herself go and learn how to use it. She straightened, lifting her chin high, touching at her hair and making sure her eyes were dry before going down to the den where he still sat at his desk, probably watching Beth in her next to nothing bikini, although he turned as she entered and smiled up at her.
"Let's get into our swimsuits and enjoy our neighbor's pool," he said, holding out one arm for her to come inside. "I've had enough of books for one day. I'm ready for some playtime. You game?"
"I'd love it," Laurie said, as he slipped his arm around her upper thighs causing little prurient tingles of ripple over her. She bent down for him to kiss her.
He did.
"I-I love you so very, very much, Phillip darling," she whispered.
"I know, Honey . . . I love you too."
Chapter Two
"Fix me a drink first, Mark darling," Dianne Coleman ordered her nude Senator-husband in a dry, almost mordant tone of voice.
She lay naked, sprawled lewdly on the large bed of her palatial, private suite in the Coleman Mansion, her long, silken honey-blonde hair fanned out on the pillow beneath her, the majestic loveliness of her enticingly contoured, smooth, white body whipping his breath away as he stood beside the bed staring with lust-filled eyes down at her, his swollen prick standing out from his hairy, muscular loins with an upward, arched rigidness.
She watched him swallow tightly, his throat muscles performing an obvious dry constriction, as reluctantly he took a step, backward, then turned and went to her little corner bar. She smiled contemptuously after him, his obliged act of subservience causing a thrill of perverse delight to ripple through her.
"What would you like?" he asked her, trying very hard to keep his voice at a pleasant level. He must be careful not to anger her, or like that, it would be all over for him. She would simply tell him to get out . . . fly into one of her rages . . . and God, he had to have her this time . . . he had to! How long had it been? Two-weeks, three . . .? He couldn't remember . . . only that she'd sent for him a half-dozen times over that period, then, either changed her mind or forced him to leave because he'd offended her one way of another. And he couldn't stand it any longer; today he had to have her!
"Why don't you use your own imagination for a change," she said sharply. "Surprise me."
"How about a Rob-Roy?" he said, smiling over at her, his cock lurching painfully as he drank in her enchanting naked beauty, her lewdly stretched out body reminding him of a sculptured work of erotic genius in the soft daylight brightening the room.
"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped edgily. "I might have guessed that would be your version of a surprise."
"How about a gibson . . .?"
"God, no. It's too damned early for that." She sighed and shifted irritably on the bed. "Oh . . . you're such a dolt, Senator. Just bring me a scotch-rocks . . . if you think you can handle, it."
He wanted to retort, but thought better of it. Instead, he proceeded to pour and simultaneously forced a smile.
Dianne watched him. She reveled in taunting him. He was her slave, now and for the rest of his life, a completely obsequious individual useful to her in three respects: his money, his position, and his cock . . . when she chose to use it. One day, through her manipulation, he would make her the state's first lady, and that time was not too far off. After that . . .? Who knows what wonders could be accomplished in the sometimes evil and fantastic realm of politics? One step at a time . . . Right now, it pleased her to employ his stud value; she had lain there, her mind filled with Phillip Gates . . . damn his soul . . . until she'd worked herself up into one devil of a need.
She smiled to herself. Anymore, it didn't take much to stimulate her sexual appetite; a sensual thought, a strange hand brushing her breasts, buttock or thigh, and sometimes, just a simple, handsome, licentious smile from the right man. With Phillip Gates, she only had to think of him to kindle desire inside her. Mark was a poor substitute for her Phillip, but right at the moment, he, or anyone, would do. Her belly and loins were alive with vibrant little sensations of lust. Besides, there was her plan to assure her stupid husband the gubernatorial nomination of the Party that she had to discuss with him, and she could think of no better time then when he was fucking her to make him agree to anything. They had to have Judge Reed's backing, and rumor was that he was about to endorse Byron Ackor . . .
"Here you are," Mark said, smiling down and offering her the drink.
Dianne outdid herself and returned his smile. She raised her hand to take it and in doing so purposely brushed the satiny head of his still throbbingly erect prick. He gave a start, then chuckled excitedly.
"Oops," she said with cuteness, her smile alive and inviting as she accepted the glass. "Thank you, Darling. Here, come lie down beside me."
She moved over in the bed, took a long swallow of scotch, then rolled over to set it on the stand beside her, intentionally thrusting her buttocks upward at him in the process.
Mark couldn't keep his hand off her. He placed it on the smooth skin of her waspish waist, trailing it downward over the full rounded curve of her hip to the soft resilient flesh of the protruding lush spheres of her bottom, stroking and spanning the soft, white crevice that separated them. Once more, a feeling of elation filled him as he felt a shudder electrify her at his touch.
She rolled back toward him and willingly into his extended arms, her firm supple breasts flattening against his hard chest, her hand immediately descending to grasp with hungry meaning around his long, thick, sex-starved cock.
Dianne heard his grunt of pleasure as her hand encircled the hot, blood-filled rod of flesh, and momentarily a long-since departed feeling of affection stirred within her for him. She pressed her belly and thighs tight against his and offered her lips to be kissed. His mouth, hot and wet, crushed her own and she felt his tongue thrust into the warm cavern to be sucked . . . and she did, while his big hands smoothed over her back and downward to her buttocks, hauling her tightly to him as she worked the heavy outer layer of skin on his uncircumcised prick up and down with her small, soft hand.
"Oh God," he gasped. "I need you so bad, Dianne."
She squeezed his prick harder while she milked it and wrapped her upper leg over his thigh, pulling him even tighter to her. She shouldn't be so cruel to him, she thought, feeling the slippery wetness of the lubricating fluid that had seeped from the tip of his cock onto her hand. Once, she had loved him with all her heart . . . but he'd betrayed her, used her, and for that she'd never forgive him . . . could never, never forgive him . . . Now he was her tool, the shoes had been reversed, and nothing was going to change that . . . nothing! She was throwing him a bone and he was satisfied . . . Mustn't lose her head . . . Use him! Use him!
"Now, Mark . . . I'm ready," she said hoarsely. She let loose of his cock and rolled onto her back, planting her feet onto the bed, raising her knees and spreading her thighs wide.
"Yes . . ." he rasped. "Anything you want, Baby. Anything . . ."
She watched him scurry between her teasingly spread legs, dropping flat on his belly, his head only inches above her warm, palpitating vaginal slit. He looked up between her proudly erect breasts and smiled at her raised face.
"Do it, for God's sake!" she snapped excitedly. "Don't look at my face, lick my cunt!"
It occurred to Mark Coleman at that precise moment that he hadn't seen his dominating, blackmailing, power-hungry wife this hot for his lovemaking in many a moon. He continued to smile as he slowly dropped his eyes to the feast she lay before him on the golden tray of her honey colored, silken haired loins, the pink, dewy flesh of her partially hidden slit sending new shivers of anticipation spiraling along his spine. He noted where the delicious narrow split started at the bottom of her smooth white belly to slice downward erotically through to the rounded cream-white orbs of her buttocks, these slightly raised and rotating sensuously, expectantly, just inches from his lips.
"Damn you! What're you waiting for . . . Do it! Please, Mark . . . do it . . .!"
Mark particularly heard the word please. He lay the palms of his hands high on the insides of her quivering thighs right at their juncture point, so that with his thumbs he could spread the soft, velvety lips of her hairlined cunt. Slowly then and with tantalizing purpose, he spread open the ragged, pink flanges before him, until its jeweled, flushed delicacy lay exposed completely to the hunger of his lust-mounting desire. Greedily, his eyes gulped in the breathtaking sight, wild spasms of passion jolting through him. He ground his cock feverishly into the satiny material of the coverlet.
"Christ!" he choked.
"Oh, oh, my Darling . . . don't make me wait any longer . . ." he heard her plead passionately.
He was in some kind of dream! He gaped at the wide-spread coral aperture glistening wetly with the viscous dew of carnal greed exciting her. It actually twitched and squirmed in its exposed intricate delicacies. For one brief moment he thought of himself as master again. He raised his head and stared at her.
"Beg me!" he blurted.
"Oh . . . oh . . . Mark, please . . . do it . . . do something . . . anything . . ."
"Beg me!"
"Oh . . . I-I beg you, my darling. Lick it! Suck it! I love you! Please . . . don't make me wait any longer, my lover . . ."
He didn't. He could no longer endure the abstinence himself. He dropped his head and plunged the full length of his wet, salacious tongue into the quivering warm depths of her tightly clasping cunt.
She howled. "Oh . . . Oooohhhh my Goddddd! Yes . . . yesssss . . . do it to me, Mark darling, Suck it! Lick it! Bite it! Chew it alive! I can't stand it, my love! I can't stand it!"
Mark felt her hands clutched at his head, her fingers entwining tightly in his hair; she moaned and gasped, hauling his face forcefully into the now wide-spread, wet, pink slit of her necteral cunt. He sensed the movements of her head flailing back and forth on the pillow above as he speared his hot tongue up into the warm velvety depths of her dilating vagina. She ground her hips uncontrollably into the softness of the bed, writhing and squirming, little animal-like mewlings escaping from between clenched teeth, then would raise her crotch up to him, pressing his face into the silken down enflamed crevice, its sensitive, hot vaginal walls opening and closing in a moist sucking motion around his thrusting tongue as if independent of the rest of her luscious body.
By God, he thought, if ever he had this twenty-four year old gorgeous witch in his power, it was right at that moment. She was completely unbridled, and growing wilder with each passing moment as she strove toward climax. It occurred to him then that he didn't intend for that to happen to her right away, or else his domination might come to an abrupt end. He withdrew his long probing tongue and licked upward through the snug, yet opened, wet slit, flicking its tip as it went, circling the quivering distended clitoris, then, engulfing all with his lips, sucking, drawing the warm soft folds deep into the hot cavern of his mouth, while his tongue maintained its maddening licking against the straining plexus of her womanhood.
"Oh, my God . . . Darling . . . .! You're beautiful . . . wonderful! I love you!" she gasped.
Mark grinned inwardly to himself, raising his eyes to lock on her ecstatically contorted face, her head still flailing slowly at a set rhythmic pace as her fingers clutched tighter into his hair and she tried to direct his hungrily sucking mouth to the small elastic opening of her hungrily clenching vagina. His hands moved upward over the white flatness of her belly to the full round firmness of her quivering breasts, cupping harshly into their fleshy softness, his fingers rolling the hardened nipples between them furiously, treating them almost cruelly, the way, he knew, she preferred.
Suddenly, Dianne felt him lifting her legs and folding them back until her knees touched her tingling breasts; his hands pressed at the backs of her knees, raising her wide-spread, completely exposed genitals to his wild tongue and sucking mouth, and it was then that she felt the hot, wet contact of his tongue with her tight, puckered anus, laving and probing at the sensitive, rubbery little opening to send maddening sensations of rapture coursing through her trembling, lust-filled body. She couldn't remember when she'd enjoyed such irresistible erotic pleasure. God, she'd almost forgotten how good he could be. Again, his tongue shot into the vaginal hole of her seething cunt and she cried out with bliss.
"Oooohhhhhhh! Yes . . . yesss . . . Damn, oh damn! Turn around! I want your cock, Darling! I want to taste it! Hurry!"
He did, hardly losing contact with his mouth at the wet palpitating split in her crotch while greedily, Dianne curled around his swollen prick jutting down between his legs, raised her head and with her ovaled month wide, encircled it hungrily with warm lips, trying to capture its entire length in her anxiously salivating mouth.
In her stimulated desire she sucked it so deeply into the hot, saliva filled cavern that it nearly choked her, but she twisted her head enough to catch her breath then began feverishly running her tongue up and down the soft underside, feeling it throb and pulse to her touch and tasting the pungent tang of the seeping lubricating fluid oozing from the split in its tip. She cupped his balls affectionately in the soft palms of her small hands while tiny explosions of lust burst insanely in her brain, and he moved up and down, in and out of her face in cadence to his lashing, probing tongue in her searing cunt below.
Her husband, the thirty-four year old senator oh, what a splendid, beautiful cock he had . . . what a shallow man . . . she hated him . . . she loved him . . . these thoughts raced crazily, wildly through her mind as she sucked with fury at his hard rod of flesh embedded deeply in her throat, while he slaved with wet sucking sounds at her naked loin, his hands beneath and clutching the soft rounded cheeks of her buttocks as he burrowed his tongue deeper and deeper into her wet and salaciously quivering pussy.
It occurred to her then, that she was losing all control, that she was acting like a subjugated woman, becoming completely overpowered by his masculine dominance. And that, she couldn't let happen . . . never, never again! God, he had even made her beg! The bastard! The beautiful, stupid bastard! She despised him! She owned the secret that controlled his cursed soul . . . She owned him! He would grovel in slime and filth if she so ordered! He was her puppet and she pulled the strings! He'd follow her plans to the letter because he dared not do otherwise! They'd compromise the judge through his luscious, precious niece. . . and in the bargain she'd have her Phillip . . . all in one fell swoop . . .! Oh God! Her cunt was afire with the licking flames of lust and passion consuming her! Suddenly, she felt his finger working at the tiny puckered ring of her anus. Her breath quickened excitedly and she forgot everything as abruptly, he pushed into it with a quick, slippery movement and she felt his long, thick finger sliding right up inside her rectum to the very palm of his big extended hand.
"Agggghhhh," she grunted around his expanding prick in her mouth, her lips and tongue stopping their gentle caressing, his sudden invasion of her anal passage causing her climax to rage toward its pinnacle. She felt his mouth glued to the round elasticized vaginal opening of her cunt, his deep thrusting tongue swirling and lashing the sensitive walls in rhythm to his pummeling finger in her rectum, and she began to nurse and suck the hot thickness of his cock with all her strength, her cheeks hollowing and swelling obscenely, while her belly rose and fell frantically as she pulled at him.
Oh, God, he had to cum . . . He had to, she thought desperately, her lips clasped tightly around the throbbing, blood-filled head of his prick, and simultaneously, deep inside her, the violent spasms of ecstasy began; she squeezed at his swinging testicles, then raked her nails beneath them as she strained to hurry her own rising orgasm.
Then all of a sudden she felt his loins jerk, the massive head of his cock swelling in her voraciously sucking mouth . . . and then it came! It shot into the back of her throat in wild spurts of teeming, creamy liquid . . . gush after gush of the hot, sweet, acid tasting fluid, joined by the convulsive tremors of her own hips as her climax erupted in a blinding explosion of erotic bliss. Again, and again, he spewed his hot jets of cum deep into her throat, and she groaned as she continued sucking hungrily, her Adam's apple bobbing licentiously while she swallowed and swallowed the flood of boiling semen squirting into the warm moistness of her mouth.
Her lips still clasping tightly around it, she swirled her tongue in a clockwise manner about the throbbing head, wanting to suck him dry, even hurt him now as punishment for her own submission to him, and suddenly she squeezed his balls with an excessive pressure that caused him to leap off of her, his finger popping out of her rectum with a loud, hissing noise.
"Christ!" he blurted, rolling off the bed and holding onto his testicles as he doubled over, his rapidly deflating penis still dripping tiny thin strands of his seminal fluid.
Dianne laughed outright, and she swiped out with her tongue to lick at a string of the white viscous sperm that had dribbled from the corner of her mouth.
"Something wrong, Darling?" she taunted, smiling and rolling toward him, her eyes wide and filled with amusement.
Mark Coleman straightened slowly, anger and pain twisting his handsome face. He stared at her with embittered eyes, the nauseating agony still lingering in his groin.
"You . . . you are a bitch," he spat at her.
"Why, Darling . . . is that any way to talk to your devoted wife?" she teased. "And after the wonderful time we just had together . . .? You know, Senator, sometimes I get the feeling that you don't love me anymore. Could that be possible?"
Mark ignored her. Instead, he walked to her small bar and poured himself a straight bourbon. He stared at it for a few moments before downing it. It was about all that was left for him . . . booze. He poured a second and raised it to his lips as Dianne swung off the bed, finished her own drink and approached him. He watched the jounce to her full naked breasts as she strolled casually toward him, her glass extended in her hand. He took it, replenished the ice and spilled raw scotch over it.
"You know something, Senator," she said, her thin smile drawn bitingly at the corners of her pretty mouth. "You're a lush."
The bar separated them. He pressed her glass across to her and lifted his own once more. "So?" he said, "and why not?"
"What would your constituents think?" she needled.
"I'm hardly concerned," he answered her matter of factly.
"You're a weak man," she shot at him. "Virile . . . yet weak."
He shrugged. "I wouldn't believe a combination like that was possible, Pet."
"You're a lover, Darling . . . unfortunately for you, eh?" Dianne's lovely eyes narrowed. "But you're made of piss. You're prick is the best part of you . . . the only part that has any backbone to it, in fact. But then . . . you already know that don't you, Darling."
Mark said nothing. He was used to these little episodes. She had let herself go in the bed only moments before, subjugated herself to his masculinity in her immediate sexual need; now she must regain her dominant standing over him by crushing any ambitious thoughts he might be entertaining of reviving the old status . . . or just his station as a man. He gulped away his drink.
"Do you realize where you'd be right now politically if it wasn't for me, Mark Coleman?" she threw at him.
Mark ran his tongue over his thin lips. Finally, he said: "Yes. Nowhere. I'd be a simple, happy, practicing attorney . . . or possibly, even a state Senator trying to do a good job . . ."
"Crap!" Dianne spat. "You were crooked, greedy and warped from the day you were born . . . just like all the rest of the Colemans that occupied this pile of stone, lorded it over the poor and stole their way into the Capital. Oohhh, don't try to parade your qualities to me, Senator Coleman. I know you, remember?"
Mark shrugged. He hated these incidents, but knew no way around them once she'd set herself off. And to imagine, he thought inwardly, the memory bringing a tiny smile to his lips, that once she was his secretary . . . that once, she loved him . . .
"What the hell are you grinning at?" Dianne snapped. "Is something funny, Senator? You stupid man! Are you aware that right at this moment Judge Reed is considering endorsing Bryon Ackor at the Convention next week?"
Mark's smile broadened. "I've heard rumors," he said, seemingly unmoved.
"Do you realize what that means? You haven't a chance without Reed's support!"
Once more, Mark shrugged. "I could care less," he said calmly.
Dianne's eyes blazed as she gaped at him. "Damn you! You nothing individual! Well . . . well I care, do you understand? I haven't stayed with you and worked like a demon to see the Governor's mansion go down the drain because you haven't the guts to fight for it."
"Maybe, I don't want it, Dianne," he snapped back at her for the first time. "Did that ever occur to you?"
"Why . . . why . . . you stupid, thankless, drunken imbecile!" Dianne half screamed at him. "Who gives one damn what you want? It's what I want that counts in this house . . . and you better understand that . . . unless you want me to destroy you and all the Colemans all the way back to old Matt himself!"
Mark stared at her, but oddly enough he wasn't upset. It was a reiteration of the same old line. There was no question; she had the upper hand and both of them knew it. He poured bourbon into his glass and remained silent. Obviously, his loving wife had devised a scheme . . . something probably worthy of a witch. She wanted to be the governor's wife . . . and undoubtedly, she would. Dear God . . . and to think that he actually loved her . . .
"I have a plan," she said after a fashion, her voice dropping to the familiar conniving level. "Properly handled, it's foolproof. That obese slob can't help but fall in line . . . unless he wants his lovable, charming niece publicized as a wanton whore."
Mark's eyes jerked upward to lock on his vicious wife's magnificent face. "What the hell are you talking about?" he hissed.
Dianne smiled. She climbed onto one of the two stools with her bare bottom and patted the other. "Come around and sit, Darling, then, I'll tell you. After . . . I think you and I will go back to bed for awhile and enjoy some plain, everyday fornicating. I still have a damnable itch inside this pussy of mine . . . Interested?"
Her eyes had softened and her smile widened. She reached across the bar and caught his hand, pulling it to her and placing it on her full, erect soft breast. Mark felt his cock jerk. God almighty, he couldn't resist her when she slipped into this mood. He withdrew his hand, scooped up his bourbon and drained the glass. She, too, drank.
"Pour us a couple more, Lover," she said softly, her even white teeth finally nibbling at her forever pouting lower lip.
Then, he saw the tip of her small pink tongue trace the line of that lip, and he thought of it as it swirled around the head of his prick and his member gave a second lurch. My God, he loved her so much! Her magnificent breasts nearly rested upon the bar, the tiny, pink, distending nipples that were hardening before his very eyes, seeming to crave the caresses of his hands. He raised his eyes to her face again. She was utterly beautiful; her long silken blonde hair cascaded in rippling tresses around her shoulders. She made a little, nose-twisting face to tantalize him. His cock jumped once more. He picked up the bottles in unison and filled their glasses, then, walked around the small bar. His brain swam luxuriantly, blottingly, sexually, from the alcohol. He didn't care. Shit! He didn't care!
"Okay, Pet . . . you lovely creature, let's have it," he said, climbing onto the other stool, his member reaching into more solid hardness. He lay a hand on her full warm thigh and she smiled at him. Then, she reached over and found his swelling shaft, squeezing it almost affectionately.
"It'll work, Darling," she said softly.
"I'm sure it will," said Mark, somewhat gaspingly at her touch. "I've great faith in you, Sweetheart."
She clamped her hand even tighter. A sensation of lewd excitement stirred within her. Automatically, she began to milk his stone-hard, erect cock. She could almost feel it inside her, pounding and probing, nudging the mouth of her womb. She wanted to go to the bed, but there were still things to talk about, ways and methods, a plan of great advantage to be discussed.
God, she thought suddenly. I'll sleep with him all night tonight! I'll drain the very life out of him! I'll show him what it might be like . . . what it could be like . . .!
"Now," she said. "Right now! Come over and fuck me, Lover. We'll talk later. Please . . .?"
"Y-Yeah . . . right now," Mark replied, his head spinning, his cock jerking. "I want to fuck you now, Dianne. My God . . . I love you!"
"I know, Darling. I really love you too!"
Chapter Three
Laurie Gates had excitedly labeled it their "little honeymoon." She was exuberant with anticipation on their way to the airport. She cuddled close to Phillip in the back seat of the taxi, her belly churning with tiny tingling fermentations. A wanton feeling of illicitness filled her, as if she were about to partake of forbidden pleasure with a very desirable man she hardly knew. Phillip smiled over at her, but he seemed mentally a world away. Never, mind, Darling, she thought, it'll all be different by the time we come home again.
She was that determined that the next three days in the Capital were going to be glorious . . . the beginning of a whole new life for them together. Earlier, she had said something of that nature to him and he'd reminded her it was a political convention they were attending, and a very important one that was bound to consume most of his time, but she refused to believe that anything could interfere with her plans. It was now or never, she'd decided, and better that she find out at nineteen rather than twenty or twenty-five.
The first setback was immediate. Tonya and A. C. Faro boarded the plane directly behind them and Laurie found herself sharing a seat with the attractive, dark-eyed, younger wife of the handsome, mid-fortish, Police Commissioner, while the latter joined her husband. The separation from Phillip upset her; not that she didn't know and like the Faros . . . they were socially prominent country-club members, politically minded, and of course, the Commissioner performed some sort of lieutenancy for her Uncle Julian . . . but the sudden wedge into her carefully calculated program, temporarily allayed her secret carnal designs of preseduction, the climax of which, she had hoped, was to be enjoyed the moment they reached their hotel.
Damn it, she seethed to herself. Why couldn't they have taken another flight . . .?
"I understand the Colemans are leasing a house in the Capital during the convention," the chicly dressed, sensually attractive Tonya interrupted her thoughts.
"Really? I didn't know," replied Laurie, decidedly uninterested.
"That means we'll at least have a party or two," Tonya went on, adding a sly smile. "That is, if I know Dianne . . ."
There was more, but Laurie listened only enough to give intelligible answers when expected. A little shiver passed through her and she found her mind filling with dissolute thoughts, once more. She just couldn't help it. She thought of Phillip and herself in bed making love . . . My God, she was flustered, she mused. Something just had to happen, and soon!
She had bought several new fetching and seductive negligees as stimulators, and she'd mentally prepared herself for whatever he might possibly ask of her, or expect of her. Just the mere thought now of giving herself to him in whatever wanton act, or perverse method he might choose, excited her to no end. She'd truly fortified herself with the proper mental attitude. In fact, as they droned along at thirty-three thousand feet, Tonya Faro's voice chattering on in her ear, her thoughts became so erotically intense that she began to squirm her buttocks nervously, feeling the edge of the cushioned seat brush electrically against the soft swelling of her vulva down between her legs. My God . . .! She jumped at the unexpected contact and blushed as her breath quickened.
Cripes, she wondered, would they never get to the Capital?
* * *
The ancient and historical Ambassador Hotel was crammed with Party conventioneers. Laurie and Phillip had a small suite in reservation on the ninth floor, while Uncle Julian occupied a large one on the fifteenth and top floor. Actually, the reveling had not yet begun, but there was enough activity in the lobby and corridors for Laurie to immediately sense the prevailing political atmosphere.
In their quarters, once the bellhop had left them, Laurie threw her arms around her young, handsome husband's neck and kissed him. She ground her supple body against his and clung to his mouth with her warm, wet lips. Surprised, he caught at her arms gently, finally working his head free to lift and stare down at her. He smiled.
"What the devil is this . . . rape?"
Laurie returned his smile excitedly. Her eyes danced. She pressed her belly and thighs even tighter to him, feeling the bulge of his slightly stirring penis against her abdomen. "Call it whatever you like, Mister," she whispered. "Only . . . just what are you going to do about it?"
Phillip swallowed, chuckled almost disbelievingly, then looked at his watch. "At two-o'clock in the afternoon?"
"So . . .? Are we on a schedule, Darling?" she questioned, licentious little sparkling in her eyes.
He kissed her, smoothing his hands along her back and downward over her round, full buttocks, suddenly cupping them, one in each hand and drawing her into him. She began to undulate her pelvis almost indiscernibly and felt his penis rapidly swelling between them. God . . . oh God, how she wanted him to take her right then, at that very moment. She pressed her tiny pink tongue upward against his lips, her vibrant body tingling with sensuous desire . . .
Then, the telephone rang!
"Don't answer it, Darling," Laurie hissed against his lips.
Once more, he laughed, gently putting her from him. "It might be Uncle Julian . . ."
"I don't care. Please . . . don't answer it," she pleaded, holding to his arm.
"Hey . . . what's gotten into you, anyway?" he teased, still smiling, the telephone continuing to ring at three-second intervals.
"Nothing yet . . . ," she replied as suggestively as she could. "But I wish you would."
Phillip gaped at her, then tossed back his head in laughter. "Well, I'll be damned. You little hustler, you . . ." he said, at last moving away and lifting the receiver.
Laurie felt her heart sink. Her smile faded as reluctantly she moved backwards to drop down and sit on the edge of the bed. Rapidly, her mood that she had so carefully nourished and built over the hours, began to disintegrate. She stared at his slender back hardly listening. Well . . . that was that, wasn't it . And she'd pleaded with him not to answer it . . .
"That, my love, was the master himself . . . good old Uncle Julian. He wants us to come right up to his suite," Phillip said, his hands moving to his hips as he looked down at her.
"I asked you not to answer it," she said, not looking at. him.
"Oh . . . come on, Laurie. I can't do that. . . besides, we've got tonight ahead of us, haven't we?" He grinned at her. "Or don't you think it'll keep?"
Laurie didn't answer. She sensed her face reddening. It was the first time she'd ever asked him to make love to her . . . . and he'd refused. Now, he was making fun of her . . .
"Well? Are you coming?"
"No . . . I don't think so." She stood and walked to her valise.
"He wants to see you, Honey," Phillip said, moving toward the door. "He won't like it . . ."
"Tell him I'm tired from the trip," she said flatly. "I think I'll shower and take a little nap."
Phillip watched her silently for a moment. He nodded. "Okay . . . I'll tell him. Look . . . I'll try to get back in time for cocktails. There won't be too much going on before tomorrow . . . politically, I mean . . . Maybe we can have a nice evening together, eh? Dinner and . . . who knows what?"
Now, she looked at him, a trace of her former inclination returning. She made a smile. "All right," she said.
"Sound good?"
"Yes . . . wonderful."
He grinned, blew her a kiss and left.
*
*
*
Alone, Laurie attempted to occupy her mind with unpacking and arranging their things for convenience, anything that would help lessen the disappointment and frustrated arousal she'd let run away with her. Finally, she undressed and decided to soak for an hour in the tub rather than to shower. Later, she slipped into a robe, brushed soothingly at her long, silken, reddish-blonde tresses, then, redid her nails to while away the time. At last, she stretched out on the bed. She was still flustered.
The rococoish furnishings of the century-old, ornate suite annoyed her. She'd hoped for something more modern and cheerful, something more in accordance with seduction. God, so far, nothing had seemed to go right. But maybe tonight . . . with cocktails, dinner and all . . . She paused to listen. A whispering feminine voice had filtered through to her from somewhere. She waited, but heard nothing more. Her mind wandered back to Phillip.
If only she could delve into his soul for one brief moment . . . see inside his brain to know what he was thinking . . . It was the not knowing, the not being able to understand his moods that frightened her. She was certain that there was some inner-burden constantly with him . . . if only she could fathom its nature she was sure she could find a means of coping with it. But he was not about to give up his secret, was he . . . whatever it was . . . and she couldn't help but feel that it was forever growing, ugly and menacing, like some cancerous thing that unless it was destroyed or arrested would soon devour both of them.
She shuddered . . . and then she heard the voice again . . . a near-whisper this time, and answered by a male huskiness. She held her breath and listened.
". . . Oh God . . . Oooooohhhhh . . . Yes, yes . . . harder . . . harder, Darling! Ooooohhhh . . . it's beautiful . . . beautiful . . .!" the female voice moaned, its tone one of distinct mounting passion.
Laurie continued to hold her breath, letting it seep from her lungs when she could no longer contain it. She tried to pinpoint the direction and source, finally realizing the sounds were coming through the single, aged door that separated this suite from the next. She sat up and stared at the barrier noticing the small hole where the locking mechanism had been removed beneath the knob, a more modern one replacing it further up the panel. She keyed her ear in that direction to better hear.
"You're still the most delicious fuck I know
the male voice gasped and Laurie cringed at the sudden vile sound of the loathsome word. "I love your cunt! I love it!"
"Oh, Lover . . . it's only good because your magnificent cock is filling it for me," the woman hissed. "My God, I've got to suck it some more . . ."
"Later, Darling . . . first I'm going to fill your belly . . ."
"Ooooohhhh, yes, yes . . . shoot your cum in me, Mark darling! Fill me with it . . .!"
Laurie was stunned . . . nearly petrified at the foulness of their obscene dialogue . . . and then her heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name. My God . . . could it be . . .? She stared across the room at nothing, the rhythmic noises of the squeaking bed reached her, and abruptly she experienced a hitch in her breathing. Her pulse began to pound faster at the clear sounds of their salacious performance, and suddenly she found herself by the door, listening and trembling as slowly she dropped to her knees to peek into the lockless hole . . .
Good Lord, she could see right into their room . . . see them on the bed, not ten-feet away!
It . . . it was Tonya Faro . . . and Mark Coleman!
Her mouth went dry as she gaped at the lewd, incredulous sight. Was it possible . . .? The very woman . . . Tonya Faro, who had occupied the seat with her on the plane only hours before . . .? committing adultery with the man the Party was considering nominating for Governor? My God, she simply couldn't believe what her eyes were telling her was true! It . . . it just couldn't be!
But there they were and she had a complete, unhampered view of them. His feet were almost facing the door and both of them were stark naked, with Tonya lying on her back, her legs raised and spread lewdly, her calves locked tight up around his ribs, she was holding them so high. Laurie gasped as she clearly saw his thick, fleshy shaft sliding in and out of the impossibly widespread lips of Tonya's pink, hairlined vagina. The unbelievable sight astounded her, as with every stroke, he withdrew it until the underside of the head was visible to her.. She had never seen anything that enormous! God . . . how could Tonya take such a thing? She felt herself wince as she watched him pound the massive cudgel into the dark, hair-covered split in Tonya's completely exposed loins. She heard the smack of his pelvis against hers and watched his heavy balls slap resoundingly into the crevice between her uplifted buttocks.
Laurie found herself mesmerized by both the lasciviousness of their debauchery, as well as the inconceivability of the parties concerned. She stubbornly refused to believe, yet she couldn't deny the scene before her. Her eye clung fascinated to the little peek-hole and her mouth suddenly felt as if someone had swabbed it out with cotton. She had never before imagined what it might be like watching two people make passionate love. Her own voluptuous, sensitive body had unconsciously begun to prickle sensuously, reviving all of the excitement she had so placidly tried to bring into check. She stared through the tiny hole and saw the cords on the insides of Tonya's full thighs flex tightly as she thrust her soft, down-covered crotch up to absorb the full glistening length of Mark Coleman's long, hardened penis. Her buttocks hollowed as she lifted them inches off the bed and worked hungrily to swallow up the entirety of the elephantine cock back into the fleshy pink folds of her hungrily sucking cunt. A slurping, suction-like sound came from the bed as her tightly clenching vaginal lips slithered up its full length.
Laurie whimpered, but inwardly, her hand dropping to caress her own soft white belly narcissistically, the bottom button of her robe having come unfastened with her voyeuristic contortions, and her own naked thighs were exposed to her as she knelt there. She swallowed drily and gaped at Tonya's hollowing buttocks laboring salaciously up and down Mark Coleman's long, smooth, rod of flesh, his soft hairy balls slapping in cadence against her faintly puckered anus below.
Then, Tonya was mouthing filth at him again . . . exciting filth that Laurie suddenly wanted to hear.
"Oh . . . oooohhhh fuck it, my big-cocked darling! Do dirty things to me! Use me, my cunt sucker! Shove your finger up my ass! Hurt me, Lover . . . hurt me!"
Spasms of erotic sensations rippled through Laurie as she watched Tonya writhe in lewd passion beneath Mark Coleman, while she listened to obscene words she could not remember where she had learned. Girl's school in England perhaps. She'd learned much that year . . . what it meant to cum by masturbation, and how it felt to have another girl lick her pussy . . . Oh God, she didn't want to remember those debasing incidents . . . nor could she help the guilty feeling she was experiencing at the audibleness of Tonya Faro's provocative filth. Suddenly, inspite of her revulsion, she was unbuttoning her robe and she began to involuntary massage the straining whiteness of her own firm breasts, tweaking the palpitating erect nipples between her fingers, kneading and pulling them until she could hardly bear it any longer. She felt the wetness of her own naked cunt between her tightly clamped thighs. Her hand stroked downward to the reddish-gold, silken pubic hair, pressuring against her swollen mound, intertangling in the sparse, soft gilded thatch at the very tip of her crevice.
Her heart pounded in her chest. Wild sensations of sexual need clawed excitingly at her kneeling, soft, throbbing body. She gaped with one seeing eye into her vantage point and saw Mark Coleman's hand curl beneath Tonya's pumping buttocks, the tip of his middle finger circling tauntingly about the rubbery ring of her tightly puckered anus. It dawdled there for an excessive, tantalizing moment, then, suddenly brought an additional moan of agony-pleasure from the squirming loveliness beneath him.
Laurie watched it slip through the protective, fleshy ring and disappear inside. Momentarily, Tonya's legs jerked out straight toes curling, subsequently returning to engulf him once more as she levered her exposed genitals upward and onto both of his impaling instruments.
Laurie felt her body trembling violently. The carnal scene had completely unnerved her. Her physical need seemed almost viable. Briefly, the deeply embedded moralistic pretension in her soul flared, but the squeak of bedsprings merged with the pictures she had witnessed and could witness, put down all else. She blocked her mind, spread her kneeling thighs and slipped her fingers down between the moist palpitating lips of her own tight little cunt. She found the already distended bud of her clitoris and gently stroked it with her index finger. A million needle points pricked her flesh. Fire raged out of control through her loins and at the same time tears of joy and shame trickled down her cheeks.
She looked down and watched herself spread her thighs farther apart. Now, she could well see the open gap of her cunt-lips obscenely widespread and the wet pinkness of her inner sanctuary. Momentarily, she wished she had a mirror. She gazed down between the proud, firm erectness of her pointed, uplifted breasts, over her flat, soft belly and saw the swollen, excited lips of her own spread pink pussy beneath the red golden strains of pubic hair. She scissored her fingers, opening it even more, feeling it palpitate against them, and then, with a groan she lowered her head as she sunk one finger into the hot viscous opening that led up into her vagina.
She groaned aloud, held her breath, then forced a second up inside her. And with her other hand she began to manipulate her clitoris. Her innerfires became more intense. She pressed a third finger into her vagina, tweaking at her urethra in passing while the noise of bedsprings became more furious and her own need for release more insane. And then, all of a sudden, the sound of their bed and their fucking nearly overwhelmed her and she found herself plunging her extended fingers up into her dilated vaginal channel in tempo with their maddening escapade in the adjoining suite.
Now, she visualized rather than witnessed. She saw their locked bodies wrapped in lurid sex and she rocked back and forth on her knees onto her own fingers, screwing them deeper and deeper into herself. She visualized Mark Coleman's glistening cock ramming its huge thickness into Tonya's clasping, sucking cunt, splitting her crotch like some ecstatic princely shaft of destiny . . . almost as if the glass-slipper might fit her foot . . . or was it Snow White . . . Dear God . . .
She could hear them, but it was the pictures she conjured in her mind that drove her on, and she settled back on her knees and haunches against her own fingers, worming them deeper into herself. Again, she conjured up the sight of Mark Coleman's thick, glistening prick and her mouth fell open as if he were thrusting it right into her very throat. She gasped emptily, suddenly realizing all she was doing to herself was but a void when it was done.
Oh Christ, she whimpered. What was going to become of her? Her fingers were useless . . . not enough inside her. She fell forward on her face, tears streaming down her delicate cheeks, her mind filled with the thought of what Tonya Faro was getting from Mark Coleman's cum-filled cock. In desperation she slid her hand up and over her buttocks beneath her robe and searched the wet, crevice . . . then, rammed her index finger deep into her own tightly clenched rectum, between the voluptuous orbs of her moon-shaped buttocks.
She gasped aloud at her own invasion into the soft, velvety channel of her rectum as additional galvanic charges raced through her quivering body. Furiously she maintained the rhythm of the bouncing bedsprings, screwing her fingers in and out of her wet, palpitating cunt and tight, nibbling anus, her body bent forward until the nipples of her full, white breasts, hanging down, brushed the nap of the carpet sensuously as they swayed from the delicious pummeling she was inflicting upon her own lust-filled genitals.
Oh, God, she was going out of her mind with the delightful bliss of it, and she felt her face flushing with the mounting pressure building in her loins. She was going to . . . She was . . . she was . . .!
But then, came the rattling sound at the outer door . . .! What . . .? A key! Phillip . . .! My God. . .!
Somehow, she managed to cling to reason even at that mind-shattering stage, extracted her plunging fingers from her tormented, secret orifices, straightened her robe about her and stumbled to the bed. When Phillip walked into the bedroom she was staring up at him with partially glazed, awkward . . . if wild eyes.
He smiled, paused, then moved toward the bed. "I thought you'd be all dressed and ready for cocktails." he said, stopping at the foot of the bed to gaze down at her.
"I . . . A . . . just woke up . . . when you came in," Laurie managed, licking at her dry lips and trying to control the rapid rise and fall of her breasts and stomach.
"Hey . . . ," he said suddenly, moving around the bed to sit down beside her. "Don't. you feel well . . .? Your face is all flushed!"
She took the hand he placed on her forehead, clutching and kissing it, his very touch sending tongues of flame licking through her tortured, unfulfilled body. Then, she reached up, encircling his neck and tried to pull him down on top of her.
"Darling . . .!" she gashed. clawing at him hungrily.
Phillip, taken by surprise, managed to brace his hands against the bed and catch himself as she pulled at him.
"For Christ's sake, Laurie!" he blurted sharply. "What the hell's gotten into you anyway?"
Roughly, he disengaged the hold she had on him and got to his feet, his thin-lipped mouth whitening irritably. Laurie stared up at him, sensing an additional flush of crimson pouring into her face, a sudden wave of deep shame sweeping over her at his debasing rebuke of her advances. Spontaneously, the tears came and she couldn't contain herself. She rolled onto her belly, burying her face in the pillow and let them flow, her lovely body quaking with convulsive sobs, finding in this a substitute release for both the emotional and physical tensions that had built inside her to the near-bursting point.
She had no idea how long she laid there gasping out her wrought-up passions, but when she finally sat up she saw that she was alone. Slowly, she got from the bed and went into the bath to put cold water on her face and red-rimmed eyes. She refused to allow herself to think, unless she fall into another fit of tears. Instead, she moved about mechanically, applying the cold water packs until the puffiness had disappeared, then, she dressed and combed her hair.
In awhile, Phillip returned. He seemed very uneasy.
"How do you feel?" he said. He stood in the center of the bedroom nervously fidgeting with his hands.
"Fine," Laurie replied, sitting at the vanity and leaning forward as she applied a thin coating of lipstick to her pouting mouth.
He smiled, his confidence seeming to return. "Ready for cocktails?"
"Um hum . . . ready for anything," she said unenthusiastically.
"We're . . . ah . . . going to a party after dinner . . . at the Colemans."
"Oh . . .?"
"I . . . ah . . . I'm sure you'll enjoy it, Laurie," he said, walking to the dresser and picking up his brushes to run over his temples. "They're quite the party-throwers, I understand."
Momentarily, flickering lewd scenes of Mark Coleman and Tonya Faro's salacious escapade in the next suite only a short time before, passed quickly through Laurie's mind. She smiled to herself. Finally, she said:
"Yes . . . I bet they are at that."
Chapter Four
Cocktails and dinner with Phillip was a near disaster; he was in a bad mood and Laurie did nothing to try and brighten it. The atmosphere between them was strained and filled with pretense. Although her febrile cravings of a short time earlier lay dormant, they were still very much a part of her. Two manhattans before eating helped, but it was not until A. C. Faro handed her the third scotch and soda at the Coleman's party that she really began to unwind.
The big house was filled with guests; some she knew, others she was introduced to by the Commissioner who had seemingly taken her under his wing the moment they arrived. Dianne Coleman had met them at the door looking seductively beautiful, dripping smiles all over Phillip as if she'd known him a lifetime, surprising Laurie to no end. What was more nonexpectant was the strange, almost disconcerting expression her husband had assumed on his boyish face. Laurie couldn't decide whether it was a look of anger, bewilderment, or both; anyway, she hadn't seen either of them since and that was more than an hour ago.
"Where do you suppose they've gotten to?" she finally asked A. C. when they'd found a more or less quiet corner sofa and dropped down onto it.
"Oh . . . I'm sure they're around here someplace, my Dear," said Faro casually, offering her his broad, handsome smile, while his eyes flickered over her in obvious lecherous appraisal, finally coming to rest on her exposed and rounded, nylon encased thighs beneath the stylish, black mini skirt.
Laurie couldn't help feeling uneasy before his gaze, but she made no effort toward altering her position. In fact, she found that she was deriving a little thrill from just the idea of being covetously ogled by the big, handsome police Commissioner. The drinks helped, she knew, and there was that certain feeling of sympathy she'd felt since first laying eyes on him this evening. She couldn't erase the lewd and adulterous scene of his wife, Tonya, making love to Mark Coleman earlier that very afternoon. The poor, deceived man; her heart went out to him. How could a woman do such a thing and still hold her head high in the very presence of her husband and lover? Yet, Tonya Faro did, and only a few moments later.
The Commissioner was enlightening Laurie to some of the intrigues of politics when Mark Coleman saw her, smiled, and approached. Laurie had felt her face redden, wild thoughts of how she had watched him in his lustful nakedness plunging into Tonya's passionate, receptive body racing through her mind.
"And you must be Laurie, Phillip Gates' wife," he said smiling and reaching for her hand. "I'm Mark Coleman . . . and it's my pleasure to meet such a lovely girl."
"T-Thank you," Laurie stammered, sensing the warmth of his big hand around her own, and the slight pressure he was exerting.
Tonya had appeared out of nowhere then, smiling graciously at all in turn, not the slightest expression of conscience on her attractive face. "Darling," she addressed her husband: "I'm developing the meanest headache. Would you mind very much taking me back to the hotel?"
"Of course not," replied Faro. "Might be a good idea if I got some sleep myself. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day."
"You will forgive us, Mark?" Tonya said to him, brushing her hand across her brow. "But I get the damnedest migraines . . . and they just come onto me like that."
It was their nonchalance that struck Laurie most, she supposed, their brazen audacity right before the innocent, wronged husband. It really angered her and for a moment she toyed with the idea of getting in some cutting remark to let them know that at least she was onto their affair. But she'd had sense enough not to and after, she was thankful for that. She'd had to rely on her host's gracious hospitality.
Hours seemed to pass with no sign of Phillip and Dianne Coleman. Mark attached himself to her, until Laurie found herself actually grateful for his company. In awhile, she had drunk too much with Mark graciously supplying her, until the room was spinning and she wanted nothing but to sleep. Her attempts to stay on her feet, though gallant, were futile. Her knees just seemed to jell as everything swirled before her eyes and she knew she was falling . . . and then, someone caught her . . .
"There now, you'll be all right in a little while," a male voice was saying, but Laurie didn't open her eyes to it. She felt dreadfully nauseated and the welcomed comfort of the pillow beneath her head was like some soothing balm.
Eventually, she did peek from beneath heavy lids to see that she was on a bed and that Mark Coleman was seated beside her, holding her hand. He smiled down gently and she closed her eyes once more.
"Ph-Phillip . . .? Where . . . is he?"
"They'll show up in a bit, Dear. I'm sure of it," he said softly. "Meantime, you go to sleep while I go down and bid my guests goodnight."
"G-Goodnight . . .?" Laurie stammered, trying desperately to make sense of what was happening. "They're . . . they're leaving now . . .? I must . . . must leave too . . . find Phillip . . ."
"No, no, now . . . you stay right here and rest awhile. I'll come back and see how you're doing . . ."
Sleep . . .? Oh, God, yes . . . she had to sleep . . . had to . . . She just. couldn't open her eyes anymore . . . Sleep . . . sleep . . .
Mark Coleman stood and gazed at the delightfully curvaceous young body. His lust-filled eyes locked on the same round full thighs that had demanded A. C. Faro's lecherous attention earlier in the evening. She lay curled up on her side, the short, provocative mini skirt unable to conceal even the sheer black bikini panties drawn snugly into the delicious crevice of her soft, white, full buttocks, the narrow wisp of material disappearing between her round cream-white thighs, the swollen, delineated mound of her sex clearly visible to him. He swallowed tightly, several reddish blonde, silken strands of her pubic hair curling from the edges of the narrow strip causing his prick to jerk excitedly.
Christ, he thought, what a beautiful fuck she was going to be. And no struggle either. Dianne's little concoction of sleeping potion and aphrodisiac had worked sooner than he expected. No danger of them coming back for a few more hours . . . not if he knew his vicious, nympho wife . . . especially, once she got her long lost lover in the sack . . . But he had to get rid of the guests first . . . and it wouldn't be long before the two gems he'd hired would show up either. He checked his watch. Plenty of time left to enjoy this voluptuous bitch if he hurried . . . and he damned sure was going to empty his cock in her first.
Chapter Five
Phillip had no idea how it would go once he saw Dianne again. It'd been a long time, months in fact, except for an occasional view of her on the street or some similar public place, and invariably she was always accompanied. He'd made no effort to contact her, only patiently bided his time. After their last meeting when Mark was running for state Senator, he doubted that she'd be very receptive; he'd driven her to a secluded spot on the pretense of taking her home, and raped hell out of her. He'd hardly expected the overwhelming greeting she had just extended them, and certainly not to be whisked through the house and out a back way to a waiting car.
"Where're we going?" he asked as she led the way, clinging to his hand.
"Someplace where we can talk in private, Darling," she said, slipping in behind the wheel of the Mercedes. "Come on, hurry before they look for us."
"But. . ."
"No buts, just hurry."
Phillip shrugged, circled the car and climbed in beside her. Why not? he thought. Let her play right into his hand if she wanted to; it would make it that much easier.
"The Judge's niece is a very alluring girl," Dianne said, once they were underway and she sped them through the night with seemingly definite purpose and direction.
Phillip looked over at her, his eyes dropping to her exposed full thighs beneath the hiked up skirt, the sheen of her nylon hose glistening in the faint illumination from the dash lights. He said nothing, but felt his penis stir at the sight and memory of those warm smooth legs when once they had been wrapped around him.
"Are you happy with her, Phillip?" she asked, her eyes on the road ahead.
"Very," he lied.
"I don't believe you."
"And why the hell not?"
"Because . . . you still love me," she said, glancing toward him with a smile he could only partially see. Her eyes reflected the street and dash lights and he could see them plainly.
"You always were a conceited bitch," he snapped, immediately irritated by her confidence, but satisfied to let it pass. Better she should think that way; it would help facilitate his plans. "Where are we going?" he asked, noticing that they'd reached the outskirts of the city.
"A cozy little roadhouse for a drink." She flicked him another pleasant side-glance. "They have some little doll-like cabins, too . . . in case you're in the mood for a return rape."
He sensed the flush in his face and was thankful for the darkness. "What makes you think I'd be interested?" he said, fumbling in his pocket for a cigarette.
"The last time we were together . . . remember?" she said. "I thought that a bed might be more comfortable on my back this time . . . if you decided to do it again."
Phillip could hardly believe his ears. She was openly, and not very cleverly, propositioning him . . . and he hadn't even laid a hand on her. Christ! "Look . . . what the hell is this all about, Dianne? Where are we going and why . . .?"
"I told you, Darling." Once more, she smiled in his direction. "I rented a little cabin for us this afternoon . . . where we can have a private drink, a little talk . . . and you can make love to me."
"Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed, gaping at her. "You're serious, aren't you?"
"Of course, I'm serious, Lover," she replied, laughing.
Suddenly, she slowed before a shabby, partially inoperative neon sign that read Capital Cabins when the Cs were lighted. She swung into the drive and along a narrow, dismal lane to park before the fourth unit, cutting the engine.
Phillip felt his throat growing dry. "I don't see any roadhouse," he said, looking around him into the depths of the night. "And I can't think of a damned thing we've got to talk about . . ."
"Oh, the roadhouse is further along another mile or so," she said lightly. "But you see, I have liquor and ice on the floor in back, so if you'll get that I'll go ahead and turn the lights on, Darling. I'm sure we'll think of something to do . . . even if we don't have anything to talk about."
Phillip stared after her as she pulled the keys from the ignition, jumped out and jogged up the three steps to the cabin door. He was flabbergasted. He climbed out, retrieved the supplies and followed her.
It was a small unit, sparsely furnished but clean. Dianne was waiting, her lovely smile prevalent, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She took the things from him, removed the plastic bags from two water glasses and made them each a drink. Phillip said nothing, only went to the only comfortable chair and dropped into it. She brought him his drink then moved to the bed, propping up the pillows and kicking off her shoes. As he watched, she lay back in a half sitting, half reclining position, her, knees drawn up shamelessly, exposing the backs of her white full thighs above her nylons all the way to the strip of white panties narrowly covering her delightful crotch.
"Now," she said, "What shall we do?"
Phillip took a long draught from his glass. He could hardly keep his eyes off the provocative, sensual display she was presenting to him. His cock jerked inside his shorts. He said: "You . . . you had something to talk about?"
"Uh hum. You and me, Darling," Dianne said, sipping at her own drink.
"Okay . . . I'm listening, go on," he said, trying to keep his eyes focused on her face.
"Really, it's very simple," she said matter-of-factly. "Mark is going to be the next governor, Phillip . . . and that's going to put me in a position of considerable prestige and power." She was no longer smiling, simply cold and calculating. Her wide-set hazel eyes bore the shrewd craftiness of a person far beyond her twenty-four years; Phillip was well aware of the reputation she'd already gained as a political manipulator. Momentarily though, he was endeavoring in his mind to associate her with the little girl he'd fallen so deeply in love with those many years ago . . . he couldn't. "And you, Darling, have become a figure with much political potential . . ." she was saying, "I can help you, Phillip . . . and I want to help you."
"Why? Why should you want to help me?"
Dianne studied him for a long moment. He watched her eyes soften, even grow wet, almost misty.
"You really don't know? You can't tell by looking at me? You can't even assume by the fact that I brought you here this way . . .?"
He tipped up his glass, drained it and stood to make himself another. With his back to her,' he said: "I'm not good at guessing games anymore, Dianne. You might say that I've outgrown them . . . along with a few other things . . ."
"You haven't outgrown me, Phillip," she said, coming off the bed. She caught at his arm and gently turned him around, then moved in close to him, sliding her arms upward around his neck, pulling his face down to her upraised lips as she drew closer and closer to him, until he could feel the heat of her vibrant body tight to his, her full, firm breasts digging into his chest while her hips and pelvis ground against him meaningfully.
She kissed him with open wet lips, her hot breath sweet in his mouth, and subconsciously, his arms went around her, his hands stroking the soft, supple flesh of her back beneath her dress, smoothing downward to cup at her lush round buttocks tightly, drawing her against his jerking, swelling cock furiously as the breath burst out of her in a moaning gasp.
"Oh, my God, darling," she whimpered. "You do love me! You do!"
Phillip couldn't seem to control himself. The presence of her hot, voluptuous body within his arms and grinding against him lustfully had suddenly sent every sensible thought he had into a shambles. Sensations so deep and locked away that he'd forgotten they existed had abruptly burst forth asunder inside him. The delicious, nectral delight of her lips and warm mouth had upset any sense of balance or control he'd walked in there with. Dear Jesus! He had to have her! He did . . . and now!
"You beautiful, enchanting bitch!" he hissed down into her mouth, his hand coursing up to her slender waist, along her ribs to the full swell of her magnificent breast.
"I know . . . I know," she hissed. "You want to fuck me, don't you, my darling . . .?"
"Oh Christ, yes . . . yes! I want to fuck and suck and lick you from head to toe!" he panted marveling at her use of the lewd words.
"Oh my God! Now, Lover, now . . . do it right now! Let's get our clothes off! Hurry!"
She pulled free of him, fumbling at her things as he tore at his own. He watched her because he couldn't take his eyes from her. There was an animal-like passion inside him for her, and only her, that nothing or no one else could ever satisfy. His brain wheeled like a carrousel. Laurie's face was a part of it and it kept pleading with him each time it passed. He shook his head, then saw his own Dianne naked, the splendor of her enticing body openly inviting him as she threw herself onto the bed, her sculptured, creamy white thighs spread wide to him, the tight pink slit of her feminine bewitchment clearly visible beneath the soft down of gold he had dreamed of a thousand times and more. He thought of nothing else as he threw himself onto her.
"Oh Lover, Lover, do you realize the marvelous, most wonderful things ahead for us?" Dianne whispered, running her hands over his lean, hard flesh possessively.
"I don't want to think of anything only this minute," Phillip hissed, traversing his hands down the smooth, silken flesh of her enrapturing body. He lay, partially atop of her and beside her, his thigh pressed between her spread legs, gently massaging the swollen mound of her sparse, silken hair-covered cunt while she lifted her loins in rhythm against it. Her hand dropped between them to seek out his now throbbing, steel-hard prick, clutching it greedily and instantly beginning to massage and stroke its thick foreskin in an irresistible milking motion.
"My God, Lover, I've never known the full delight of your lovemaking," she whispered. "Can you imagine . . . as long as we've known each other . . . I've never kissed and sucked your beautiful cock?"
"Christ!" Phillip blurted.
"I want to! I want to right now!" she said, squirming from beneath him, rolling him onto his back and moving down between his spread legs to remain on all fours and lower her face toward his rigid, palpitating prick.
Phillip watched entranced. He'd wake up in a moment; it was one of the wilder dreams that had ensorced his sleep over the last year. It couldn't be true.! Not his own beautiful Dianne who had slipped away and married another . . . not his own true love bent over him, her face just a fraction of an inch above the blood-inflated head, of his pulsating cock . . . her parted, soft wet lips ready to encircle and suck it into her mouth . . .! Could it be? Was he dreaming?
My God! He gaped in sheer disbelief. He saw her, her mouth open wide, the tip of her pink little tongue dart out to lick at the very tip of his shaft where the thick, whitish semen had seeped forth uncontrollably, lick and go back into her mouth to carry its tangish quarry, then return to lick again. He watched her small hand at the base of his prick extract the skin from the satiny head and her tiny tongue flick out to lick around it, its tip playing at the sensitive underside, then dropping to where her fingers held it at the base to lick upward slavishly, and finally, the smile of love she looked up and gave him before slipping her warm, glistening lips over the complete head of his prick, clasping tightly just beyond the coronal rim, her cheeks hollowing in a sucking motion as her tongue taunted and her other hand moved down to cradle his bloated balls within it.
He saw it but he couldn't believe it. He witnessed the erotic sight of her spread on all fours between his legs, her tits dancing as she begun to move up and down with her lovely mouth sucking at his prick, but he couldn't believe it. He gaped in utter impossibility as inch by inch she seemed to absorb it into her grotesquely sucking mouth . . . until the end of it had to be brushing at her throat . . . and then her long blonde hair fell forward and he could see little or nothing, only feel the delicious, clasping sucking of her elasticized lips and the mad swirling of her tongue while the long tresses of her beautiful hair taunted his stomach and loins.
"Oh Christ!" he moaned. "Stop! Stop! Come up and fuck. Baby! Now!' Come up and fuck! I'll flip if you don't . . ."
She did, smiling though and knowing that she had him exactly where she wanted him. She whispered: "I wanted your come, Darling. I wanted to eat it. I love you Phillip . . . I'll always love you!"
He tried to think of something appropriate to say, but couldn't. Finally, he managed: "It's all right, Baby. Later. I've got to fuck you now or I'll die!"
"I know. Please . . . hurry!"
"Yes," he gulped, climbing between her legs and situating himself. Her hand came quickly and took his prick, drawing it from the tight cleft of her buttocks up between the moist lips of her cunt, separating the soft, sparse pubic hair as she spread the lust swollen flanges and placed the tip at the mouth of her already passion-dilated vagina.
She began to moan and murmur incoherently, writhing her hips upward at his throbbing cock and immediately he began to screw into her, grinding his teeth together in his own uncontrollable desire while she squirmed and jerked beneath him in wild abandon.
"Oh . . . heaven, heaven, heaven!" she whimpered as if in agonized rapture, gouging her long nails into the flesh of his lean shoulders, undulating her crotch maddeningly on his prick and flinging her wide-spread thighs in every direction.
"Oh God, Laur . . .!" he started to blurt out, but caught himself in time. His brain reeled with the fire burning in his loins. His balls ached with the furor building inside them and he screwed his long rod of hard flesh deeper and deeper into her, feeling the spasmodic squeezing, sucking grip of her moist, velvety, hot vaginal walls drawing at his very entrails.
Her whole body jerked and squirmed and she moaned unceasingly, her lovely face twisted in ecstasy mouth gaping, neck tensing, nostrils splayed, a thin film of sweat already glistening on her brow beneath her disheveled blonde hair.
He felt the wet, smooth pink flesh of her cunt channel clinging to him, holding him tightly inside her, pulling and sucking insanely at his pulsating, growing cock. He levered upward on his toes and frantically plunged the last remaining inch of his long, thick shaft into her slick moist hole, raising a new moan of bliss from her slack mouth, her eyes popping open in a glazed, surprised expression of phallic worship.
"Ahhhhh . . . my Phillip . . . my love . . . It's wonderful . . . wonderful . . . all mine . . .! Yes . . . it's all mine, my Lover! Ahhhhh . . . " she gasped and he clutched at the round, smooth orbs of her ass-cheeks, raising them off the bed to him and lifting his own self to better advantage, thrusting and grinding into her with all the strength of his hips and thighs.
The soft quivering of her buttocks flexing and unflexing caused the soft, warm, smooth flesh to ridge between his fingers as he clutched his hands tightly into them. He drew her hungrily to his loins and felt her open her thighs even further to him, flowering the moist, pink hole of her cunt wider in reception to his thundering cock fucking deeper and deeper up into her wildly quivering belly.
Furiously, he slipped in and out of her crotch, her beautiful, golden, expanded crotch with the magnificently salacious fissure splitting it . . . pummeling into its sleek, raw depths with powerful, intensifying strokes. His brain still swam, but completely caught up now in a whirlpool of erotic confusion. God Almighty, Laurie! He thought of her guiltily for one brief moment, then shook his head to dissolve her image from his mind. He gazed downward at the lust provoking sight of Dianne's firm, rotund breasts beneath him, letting his brain saturate itself with their carnal splendor and driving out all else . . . watching them quiver and sway sideways toward the bed on either side of her, their tiny pink nipples severely distended, and suddenly he rammed into her brutally causing her to grunt forth a guttural bleat as she arched her neck with the pleasure-pain of the thrust.
Again and again he battered into her, his tormented mind refusing to be dominated by his hedonistic flesh, a mounting sadistic desire to punish her slowly stealing possession of his reason. Suddenly, he was shifting his hips and weight every which way, thundering and ravaging the hot, sensitive, raw flesh of her vaginal passage as if his long fleshy rod were a wrecking bar he was grinding and slamming into her. Mercilessly, the smooth, rubbery head pummeled her cervix while his heavy sperm-filled balls crashed loudly into the crevice of her widely spread ass-cheeks.
She whimpered beneath him low and animal like, as she writhed in her attempt to bear the abrupt, unanticipated shock, even as he plunged harder, driving his loins more forcibly into her open receptive crotch. He gaped downward into her face, watching the changing expressions of passion contorting it. His mind screamed! He hated her! He loved her! Bitch! Bitch! Suddenly, he reached under her, his nails gouging at her soft flesh as he sought her anus. He fumbled between her hot, vibrant buttocks while he pounded his furious cock in a tempo, deep into the wetness of her teeming cunt. He clutched at the quaking hillocks of flesh, ripping them wide apart, searching for the tiny puckered ring of soft flesh. . . her tiny defenseless asshole!
He found it and touched it, feeling the crinkly, snug ring working with the writhing and twisting of her buttocks. A rivulet of viscid moisture dribbling down the widespread crevice from where his stiff, thick cock was sawing into her had moistened the tiny orifice, and he pressed into it, feeling it give slightly, then, he pushed hard and suddenly the tight, rubbery sphincter muscle popped open, slipping over his finger and drawing it inside the warm, spongy channel. She cried out, but persistently he sunk the invading thick digit up into the soft depths, until the palm of his hand lay flat against the smooth, wet crevice of her ass.
"Oh my God . . . my God!"' she gasped. "Oooohh . . . aggghhhh . . . ooohhhh!"
At first, she had lurched desperately in her effort to escape his rectal impalement, but then she began screwing her luscious bottom back onto it and he worked his finger around and around inside her, feeling through the thin partition of velvety tissue the ridges of his smooth sliding cock fucking in and out of her, until he had established a dual rhythm of finger and prick and she began to moan wildly beneath him.
His loins were a raging inferno now, his cock growing and expanding inside her as he gasped and quivered and reveled. in her flesh, increasing the speed and measure of his stroke, drilling into her savagely while his finger mercilessly drubbed the depths of her wildly clenching anus.
She held him tightly in her strong thighs, clamping them high around his waist, slackening them and clamping them again. Her body was hot, her head moving wildly from side to side, her full lower lip thrust forward. her mouth open in abandon as she tightened and loosened her scissor grip, winding her legs completely around him as she waved her buttocks from side to side, then screwed her cunt furiously up to his raging prick. She was rapidly moving toward orgasm.
Suddenly, she began to grunt and pour forth guttural sounds from deep in her chest, incessant gurglings that drove him to even more violent, vicious strokes.
"Oooohhhhh . . . Phillip . . . Phillip . . . fuck it hard! Harder! Screw it . . . fuck it, my Darling! Harder . . . harderrrrr!" she wailed up at him, foul obscenities beginning to gush from her lips in her attempt to spur him on, her crotch bucking insanely up against his loins and finger, her legs drawn back until her knees crushed her heaving breasts, and she locked her ankles over his shoulders and rode wantonly up his cock to cling there momentarily in complete enslaved rapture.
Spontaneously, her body began vibrating uncontrollably. She grabbed at his face as the spasms seized her, biting at his mouth with animal-like ferocity, her body arching convulsively into his to hold there shuddering and quivering, her orgiastic fluid bathing his rigidly pummeling cock, running down her soft, smooth thighs to flood his balls as they slapped tightly into the crevice of her ass.
The sensation of her climax was the needed spark to initiate his own orgasm. He burrowed into the very depths of her, ramming her knees back to her shoulders, doubling her into an unmercifully ball of contorted humanity as he hammered into her cunt with sadistic brutalness, battering her cervix with his outrageously swollen cudgel. She continued to whimper and gasp, her belly and thighs contracting spasmodically, her excitement still obvious as with wild and eager passion she said:
"My sweetheart . . . my baby love . . . it's beautiful . . . beautiful! Fill me now, Darling . . . fill me with your warm, thick come! Fuck me hard! Give it all to me . . . to meeee!"
He wanted to cry. His agonized bliss was that intense. The actual pain in his balls seemed unbearable. He thrust and withdrew to the very tip of his prick, then plunged again, feeling the wild sucking of her cuntal muscles as she tried to extract the life-giving semen from his screeching loins. He was almost there; he knew it! Almost, but not quite! He'd go mad! He rammed her and rammed her and rammed her again . . . then, he gasped, cried out, and felt the very apex of his climb as suddenly he began to topple down the mountain!
Dianne moaned as she clutched at his shoulders and thrust her crotch up high against his enraptureous cock. He quaked from head to toe, grunting and blurting unintelligible sounds, and he shot into her, spewing with jerking, violent force, convulsing streams of his white, thick and hot sperm far up into the hidden sanctity of her open and receptive womb. He wished to God it could never end . . . but it did . . . and when it was over he could do nothing but collapse on top of her . . . he was exhausted.
In a little while, Dianne gently rolled him off her, then kissed him. She rested on her elbow above his face, smiling down at him, her face a vision of warm loveliness.
"I-I hope you made me pregnant," she said softly.
Phillip focused her into his view slowly. He stared at her. Finally, he pushed her away and sat up. He said:
"Don't be a fool!" He got to his feet. "Don't be a godamned fool!"
For a moment, she said nothing. Then: "I'm no fool, Phillip. I may be a lot of things . . . but never a fool."
"You are when you talk like that," he snapped. He didn't look at her . . . Instead, he walked to the dresser and made himself a drink.
"I've great plans for you and me, Phillip," she said to his back. "Great, great plans. I don't intend that anything should happen to them."
Phillip turned slowly to look at her. She still lay raised on one elbow, her legs spread teasingly, her luscious body as provocative to him as the first moment he'd sunk his prick into it this night. He stared at her, the determined half-smile taunting her mouth almost frightening him. Christ, he thought suddenly, did he really still love her? He wanted to say something decisive, but could think of nothing. He gulped at his drink . . . then watched her slowly lift and hold out her free hand.
"Bring me the drink, Darling. I'm the one who needs it . . . the future mother, remember?"
She was smiling entrancingly. He thought he was trying to fight its allurement, but then he found himself encircling the bed and handing her his glass.
Christ, he thought. I must love her!
"Thank you, Darling," she whispered. "Now come lie down with me and rest . . . The second part of our long thwarted love is next . . . and I want you rested and capable."
He felt as if he'd been hypnotized. He didn't want to fight her; instead, he lay down beside her, his hand slowly moving over to cup one ripe, full breast.
"Are you happy," she whispered, moving over to lean above his face, her lips inches from his own.
His brain spun. "Yes," he lied. "Yes . . . I'm happy."
Chapter Six
Laurie lay in a semi-stupor, dully endeavoring to comprehend the source of the tiny sensations tingling through her body . . . prurient, erotic little titillating prickles that were filling her belly and loins with indistinct excitement. Vaguely, she associated the pleasureful experience with Phillip and whimpered kittenishly as she snuggled closer to his nakedness in the bed beside her. The strong warmth of his muscular body gave her a feeling of security, and she lay on her back, cradled in his arm while his other hand gently stroked her full, firm breasts arousingly, massaging and tweaking at her erect pink nipples and adding to the galvanic tempest mounting inside her.
Her mind wandered, a labyrinth of cobwebs confusing her thoughts. For some reason she couldn't seem to fully associate the immediate with Phillip, or her being wherever she was, or his lying beside her and making soft, tender love to her. She couldn't even remember undressing, or getting into bed with him . . . but she didn't care . . . and thinking was difficult when the man she loved was moving his hand provocatively over the smooth flatness of her belly . . . downward . . . downward to taunt the silken patch of sparse pubic hair covering her mound, then his finger lightly tracing, teasing the tight pink slit of her snug pussy lips down between her legs.
She moaned lightly, receptively spreading her warm, soft thighs wider to his pleasure inciting hand. She felt his finger trail down the length of her vaginal split, separating the soft curled strands of pubic hair as it went, moving all the way to the cleft dividing the round full orbs of her buttocks, even to dawdle momentarily and excitingly at the tiny puckered hole of her sensitive anus. She squirmed and purled to his touch, feeling the tantalizing return of the exploring finger to the moistening lips of her vagina . . . it slipped into her, massaging gently at the small elasticized channel mouth, then with new wetness moved upward through the velvety, sensorial flesh to the already erect bud of her clitoris.
He rolled her toward him and kissed her, his tongue slipping between her lips and beyond the barrier of her small white teeth, while his long finger moved down to her vaginal mouth once more and she pressed her pelvis forward and raised her leg to make his insertion easier for him. She sucked at his tongue in swooning, mounting enchantment as his long finger slid up into the warm, moist passage of her tight cunt like a thin, hard penis, sending new shocks of vibrating bliss to spiral along her spine.
She mewled and whimpered into his mouth as he began to swirl it around inside her, gradually expanding the tender, satiny vaginal walls with an enrapturing gentleness she had never realized he possessed. She clung to him tightly, her eyes closed, and began to undulate her loins in tiny, thrusting circles, screwing her cunt further and further onto his thrill-giving finger.
At last, she was aware of the hardness of his thick cock pressing into the softness of her belly and she reached down between them to take it in her hand. She made a little gasping sound against his mouth as she tried to encircle it with her fingers. They would hardly go around its hot, fleshy rigidness; she had never remembered it being so enormous and hard . . . but even though its surprising massiveness had given her a twinge of momentary fright, it was a piquant anxiety that caused little ripples of near masochistic anticipation to surge through her.
Mark Coleman grunted from deep in his chest as the soft fingers of her small hand encircled his throbbing prick. Christ, he hadn't imagined in his wildest dreams that Dianne's concoction would be so effective. The luscious little bitch was hotter than a pretending hundred-dollar whore. Of course, under the influence of the sleeping drug, he was certain she thought he was her husband . . . but he intended to change that shortly, too, once he felt sure she was so far gone that she couldn't help herself.
He had to gasp again as she began to massage and stroke his prick, sliding the thick outer layer of skin up and down the rigid column of flesh, and in kind he thrust his finger deeper up into her cunt, swirling and manipulating it against the hot, clutching, viscid coated walls of her now steaming pussy. Damn, she was ready, if she was ever going to be. He felt her lush, hardnippled breasts heaving against his chest as she panted into his mouth, while her rounded hips and buttocks writhed against the working of his impaling finger deep inside the raw, hot wetness of her tight palpating little vagina.
Suddenly, he eased her over onto her back and moved his face down her helpless naked body, gently pulling his prick from her reluctant grasp. In passing, he kissed and sucked at her nipples and with drugged, tightly closed eyes she moaned passionately. He slithered on down her body, feeling her smooth soft flesh twitch and tremble beneath him, marveling within his lust-incited brain at the unbelievable texture of her satin-like skin and the delightful curvaceousness of her voluptuous young body. He'd never had anything like it before. He thought of the stupid Phillip who had possessed her and found himself wondering if, and how many, others had ever fucked her . . . he ran his lips over the flat little belly and down between her thighs, which she opened further to him with a soft, audible sigh.
He gazed at the soft delicious hairlined split in her loins, glistening now with tiny pearl-like droplets that he had incited; he lowered his mouth to the warm throbbing lips and licked them with trembling tongue, entering her, his moisture mingling with her own as she moaned and reached down to pull his head tighter between her open legs.
He licked and sucked, finally moving up to her erect clitoris. She began to moan a little louder and never quite stopped again. He fastened onto the excited, palpitating bud and she began to slowly grind her hips down into the mattress in little concentric contracting movements, as if she were losing all control. Her cunt flowered open to him, the delicate tang of her perfumed moisture like a nectar to his tongue. Then, her hands on his head were urging him up . . . she wanted him now, her body writhing and unstill, her full young breasts heaving and swaying to the sides.
Mark moved up over her and with still closed eyes, she drew back her thighs and reached down beneath him searchingly, until he felt her cool hand once more on his prick. The throbbing member jerked in her hand, its heavy foreskin slipping back as gently, she guided the smooth, rubbery head to the receptive, wet mouth of her vagina, until he could feel the moist, fleshy warmth seemingly nibbling at him, as if trying to draw him into her.
"Oh . . . oh Phillip," she moaned passionately. "Now, Darling, now . . .! Do it to me! Please, do it .
. .!"
Mark Coleman grinned triumphantly down into her beautiful, desire-twisted face, the closed eyes, the even white teeth biting at her lower lip, the tiny furrows of need wrinkling her forehead, inciting his lust even further. He said nothing . . . only thrust into her with a long powerful plunge that raised a surprised grunt of shock, pain, and pleasure from deep in her throat, her moist heat clutching around his cock like warm vibrant liver. He gasped loudly, the unexpectant blissful sensation overwhelming him, and almost uncontrollably began to fuck into her with fast, unmeasured strokes that lengthened and shortened in uneven cadence as he filled her warm, moist vaginal passage to greater and greater depths.
He levered most of his weight onto her and beneath him she quivered and trembled, her berrylike nipples digging into his chest with pointed, erect pressure; her warm smooth belly snug against his while her naked thighs clamped and unclamped, holding and releasing him in an erotic rhythm.
"Oh Christ," he groaned as he felt her tight, almost virginal cunt, squeezing along the length of his prick that was growing and expanding inside her to the point of near-bursting.
"My sweet, sweet Phillip," she hissed over and over again as she bucked and writhed under him. "My own darling lover . . . I've waited so long for this moment," she moaned, her face beginning to move from side to side, tiny teeth marks appearing on her lower lip where she had bit it . . . and then her lips sought his. She sucked his tongue and forced her own into his mouth, panting warm sweet breath into his throat.
"Oh . . . God, I love you, my Phillip . . . ," she moaned again and Mark could stand it no longer.
"Phillip, my ass!" he snapped down at her as he lunged and stabbed in a bludgeoning thrust, brutally tearing into the depths of her cunt. "There's no Phillip here, Baby . . . just me right now. I'm the guy you seduced. Mark Coleman . . . remember?" Again and again he thundered his massive cudgel into her, a sadistic grimace suddenly contorting his face as he watched her expression of passion change to that of confusion, and finally, sheer horror.
"Oh . . . oh my God, no . . . No!" she half screamed, trying then to squirm and kick, to writhe herself from beneath him. "Stop! My God, stop it!" she shrieked, getting one hand up to claw at his face.
"You little bitch!" Mark snarled, grabbing her hand before it could do any damage.
Easily, he pinned her beneath him, holding both of her hands back to the bed with his own, his heavy, sinewy body still resting securely between her widespread, defenseless thighs, his cock buried far up in her cunt to the very hilt.
Laurie stared up at him in utter disbelief. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be! But . . . but it was! His grinning, lust-filled face swam before her. The velvety cobwebs that clouded her brain were far from gone, and now he lay still, with his huge shaft completely filling her belly, she felt him flex its turgid head and wild little sensations that she seemed to have no control over rippled through her loins and belly.
"Ooohh . . ." she moaned as the electric-like shocks of unwanted pleasure burst through her. "Please . . . please don't. Oh God . . . how . . . how did I get here like this?"
"Don't play coy, Laurie," he said, giving her a salacious grin. "You begged me to bring you up here and fuck you . . . and that's just what I'm doing."
"No . . . no, it can't be true. You're lying . . . Oh my God, where is my husband?"
"Where the hell do you think? Fucking the shit out of my wife . . . the way he's been doing for the past dozen years or so," Mark spat, watching her face as his words slowly registered.
"I-I don't know what you're talking about. You're lying . . ." she groaned beneath him, trying weakly to twist from beneath his all impaling body.
"Am I? Listen to me, Baby, Dianne and Phillip were childhood sweethearts in Concord, New Hampshire," he said, sparing her no mercy. "It's a long story, but you can take my word for it . . . they've been in love for years . . . . I thought you knew, and that was why you asked me to fuck you . . ."
"No! God, no, I never . . .!"
"Of course, you did, Baby," he insisted, his attitude softening a little. "Oh, you were a little drunk, but you knew what you were doing when you led me up here and undressed. Don't you remember? Fuck me, Mark darling, you kept saying. Please, fuck me . . . and that's just what I'm doing, Honey . . . and going to keep on doing until both of us are so beat we can't walk."
" Dear God!" Laurie gasped as he flexed the swollen head of his prick deep inside her tingling vagina once more, causing forbidden and unwanted pleasurable fermentations to trickle through her and she rolled her face away from him in abject humiliation. Dear God, how could it be that her body was enjoying his horrible assault when her mind was filled with repugnance and wretched horror? What had he done to her . . .?
Mark began to throb his deeply imbedded member again and again, watching her beautiful face once more go through a metamorphic change.
"Ooohhh," she, whimpered through clenched teeth, her, tightly clenched teeth finally falling limply open, but her tear wet eyes once more clenched tightly shut. "Ooohhh . . . ooohhh . . . oooohhhh," she moaned, her nostrils beginning a slow hesitant splaying in tempo with his throbbing cock . . . until unrestrained little mewling sounds of delight erupted involuntarily from her throat and he knew he had finally, and completely, subjugated her.
"Ooohhh, Dear God . . . I can't help it," she whined pitifully. "It-it's so good . . . so good . . ."
Her urgent answering nibbles began around the head of his cock. The wet, clasping cunt flesh responded with a soft opening and closing, almost sucking at his pulsating shaft. He said: "You want me to fuck you now, don't you, Laurie?"
She wanted not to answer him . . . oh God, she wanted not to so badly! But the wild sensations his huge throbbing cock shot through her set her whole naked body to jerking and writhing beneath him, tiny moans of helpless passion emitting from deep in her chest.
"Don't you?" he persisted.
"Oh . . . Oh . . . yes, yes . . . do it to me! Please, do it . . ."
"Do what, Laurie darling? What do you want me to do?"
"Ooohhh . . . you know, you know!"
"Say it,! If you want it, say it, Baby!" "Oooohhh . . . yes, please . . . fuck me, Mark . . .
Yes, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me! I need it . . . want it so bad!" she hissed, and he freed her hands that immediately encircled his neck, pulling his lips down to hers as she thrust her tongue with wanton acceptance half into his throat. She continued to moan up into his mouth in servile resignation, her beautiful face twisting in her bliss, her mouth laboring, the cords in her swanlike neck taut, her nostrils flared, a sudden thin film of perspiration beginning to form on her forehead and upper-lip, her long reddish-gold hair a mass of interwoven entanglements.
All logical reasoning had deserted her; there was nothing that mattered except the insane craving that filled her belly and loins, and the erotic ecstasy of his huge cock pulsating in the deep warm sanctuary of her cunt. To the world, she closed her eyes and reveled in her own private bliss.
Mark Coleman gaped lustfully down at her as her head began to roll helplessly from side to side and her hips began a slow, almost involuntary rocking motion beneath his impaling cock. He had to clench his own teeth tightly as he felt her excited nibbling cunt screwing itself up tighter against his hair-covered pelvis. He remained immobile and watched fascinated as she rotated her hips from side to side around his rod of lust thickened flesh, her vagina clasping in time to its rhythmic beating. She began to screw upward onto the length of it, the tiny contracting muscles inside her cunt biting hungrily at the blood inflamed head he had slowly withdrawn until no more than an inch of it remained inside her. The dilating lips between her tight, hairlined cunt pulled tantalizingly away, sliding moistly down the glistening shaft, then worked its way slowly back up until her soft, down-covered mound ground tightly against his pelvis and his balls swung snugly into the crevice of her desperately clenched buttocks . . . his cock imbedded the full length of it deep into her warm, white belly.
He stared, almost mesmerized, as she increased her tempo, working more frantically while he hung immovable above her, watching the luscious carnal sight of her cunt's withdrawal between them, her quivering body pumping up and down his prick at will. He saw the pink ridges of her velvety flesh being pulled out when she lowered her buttocks to the bed, and the soft folds being pressed back into the salacious hole as it swallowed the wet shiny length back into her. The mere sight nearly set him off. He gulped tightly and continued to observe, wondering how long he could stand it; she strained against him in utter abandon, a half-crazed ecstatic smile playing over her beautiful face. Suddenly, he could bear it no longer. His hands moved down beneath the smooth, round orbs of her working buttocks, and he clutched his fingers into the soft flesh cruelly, one cupped in either hand, his lust-inflamed brain delighting to its fullest in her helpless submission, her incessant humming and writhings driving him to greater frenzy.
He dug his fingers into the soft resilience of her bare ass cheeks and felt them alternately tense and untense, firm smooth and hollowed . . . then relax and ooze around his fingers. He hauled her hips against him as he drove into her and felt her pull back her thighs a little more, opening the moist pink hole of her cunt wider in reception to his now thrusting cock burrowing ever deeper and deeper into her belly.
"Oh . . . Oh God, it's heaven!" she gasped, feeling his hands grasping at the rounded moons of her ass, lifting them simultaneously to his straining cock ramming into her with all the strength of his hips and thighs. Laurie knew too that she was moaning and mouthing incoherent sounds as she wound her long, smooth legs around his hips while he plunged into her. She felt the soft, warm folds of her cunt clinging to him, squeezing tightly around his hard, thick shaft, and she could sense every inch of ridged, blood inflated flesh it boasted. Such exquisite ecstasy she had never even dreamed of. She was totally helpless, completely subservient to the wickedness permeating her whole being, and she screwed her bottom up tight against his pelvis until she could feel the tantalizing tightness of his balls pressed hard into the wet, wide-stretched crevice below her vagina. The soft, hair covered skin danced tauntingly against the sensitive outer ring of her tiny, naked anus sending shivers of lewd delight surging through her fluttering nerve-ends.
Oh, God . . . there was nothing else in the world . . . no future, no past . . . not even a Phillip . . . nothing . . . nothing but this soaring plane of uncontrolled lust and carnality . . . lust and flesh in its most animalistic stages . . . of his naked belly smacking against her own . . . of naked crotch against naked crotch. Her mind snapped . . .
"Oh God. . . . fuck it . . . fuck it hard! Yes, yes, Darling . . . fuck it harddddd!" she pleaded, breathlessly. Something was happening inside her, a mounting, spiraling, sensational peak! Not far away . . . no . . . no . . . close at hand and building insanely. She must.! She must!
She'd lost all sense of proportions, Mark thought as he drove into her furiously. She'd become some kind of animal, hardly human as she writhed and contorted, spreading her legs wide apart on either side of his plunging shaft, then, pulling them up to her shoulders, bending them at the knees, spurring him on like a feral, rutting bitch with the heels of her curled-toed feet digging into his hard-muscled buttocks.
There was commotion then to attract her . . . someone, or more, moving through the doorway to the room, but her drugged brain was still not keen enough to perceive clearly . . . anyway, nothing mattered . . . nothing, except the driving body sinking the cock into her from above. He . . . she and he . . . they were all that mattered
"Jesus Christ!" a guttural voice exclaimed. "Looks like we might be late for the show, Stones."
"Shit no," the big one, the dirty bearded one said as he moved closer to the bed. "Take a look at that delightful piece, Morgan. She's in the throes of rapture . . . about to cum . . . filled with X number of inches of the man's cock. Get with it, man, ecstasy is in the offing."
The newcomers moved in closer to watch, their eyes widening at the licentious scene. Morgan, the thin one, a chinless, grimy faced, exceedingly tall individual, dropped to his knees so that he could watch Mark Coleman's battering prick plunge furiously into the luscious girl's tight, receptive cunt.
"The man's a trooper," he said matter of factly. "He's chafed on one side . . . look here."
Stones knelt down to examine the sight. He saw the scraped skin of Mark's wildly plunging shaft and nodded, but he was more intrigued with the tightly expanded cunt that split the young girl's crotch. He said: "A delightful cunt, Morgan. You probably won't see another like this in a lifetime, so enjoy it. Magnificent hole . . . suddenly, my own prick feels as if it were weighted down with chunks of lead . . . but it's only the swollen tip, the hard I get in the beginning."
"Shit man, she's pretty," Morgan said. "I thought she'd be some old cow the way he hired us. Fuck . . . look at her . . . I could eat her cunt all day."
"Shhhhhh," said Stones. "Just listen and watch, friend. The delectable dish is coming unglued. Marvelous sight. Haven't seen a kid like this since I was in grade-school . . . shhhhhh!"
The puzzling voices went on . . . continued in a lewd, almost everyday dialogue . . . but she refused to acknowledge them. It was all part of this intriguing, lust inflated picture. She saw them, their long shaggy hair and lewd, grimy faces, one bearded . . . one chinless . . . and then she didn't as they faded in and out of focus and her body screamed for release.
Immediately, they were forgotten as her head flailed and she swung her thighs up and clasped Mark's hips with the backs of her calves, winding her smooth well tapered legs all the way around his body. Her ankles locked tightly together high on his back, screwing her devouring vagina up the full length of his slippery, plunging staff.
"Christ!" Stones grunted. "Never saw a pussy work like that." He grinned with yellow, broken teeth at his partner who had already dropped his pants and was stroking his long, thin rigid prick. He reached down and unbuckled his own belt, letting his dirty jeans slide down the heavy muscular columns of his hairy legs, and unhampered by underwear his nine solid inches of lust-hardened cock stood out from his matted, hair-covered loins like some unbelievable instrument of torture. He, too, began to massage his huge cudgel while he leered down at the licentious performance taking place on the bed.
"Save some for us, man," Morgan said with wet, drooling lips and Stones chuckled obscenely as he slipped the heavy foreskin back and forth over the bulbous head of his great prick.
Laurie heard them, their voices and the filth they uttered like a faint echo from afar off, while her body drove on, unheeding. She was nearly there . . . ready to come . . . nothing else mattered. Minute imps of passion and lust tormented her deep in her belly, jabbing their pronged forks into the hot, prickling flesh of her oozing, frantic cunt. Her body was bathed in sweat as she labored wildly . . . striving for the end only a split-second away . . .
And then, Mark cried out like a wounded animal and clamped his mouth tightly down on hers as his body convulsed on top of her. She felt his prick jerk deep inside her belly and his hot white sperm beginning to spew wildly into the depths of her tingling vagina. She gasped as it shot into her in great jetting streams, a wave of frustration sweeping over her at the feel of his convulsing cock growing more and more limp and useless with every white hot spurt her voraciously sucking cunt milked from him.
"Oh . . . oh no! Noooo, Darling . . . please . . . please, wait for me! A second more . . . just a second more!" she cried her thwarted need half into his mouth. She clung tightly to him, her frenzied vagina clutching uselessly at his rapidly deflating organ, her heels pounding and digging desperately into his suddenly exhausted body . . . And then, it slipped out of her and she felt him pulling away, rolling off beside her with an empty, spent groan, leaving her with still raised, trembling thighs, the unsatiated fire burning completely out of control in her heaving belly and unfulfilled loins.
Tears dribbled down her cheeks as she spread her legs high and wide in the air, her own hands clutching and manipulating at her tortured, betrayed cunt, gouging her own fingers deeply into herself, mindless of all around her as she strained and tore abortively at the palpitating split of her crotch.
"Get her ankles, Morgan," Stones said, climbing onto the bed and moving between her widespread legs, his massive thick rod of flesh waggling like a loose bowsprit without its rigging as his cohort caught hold of both Laurie's slender ankles and levered them back above her head until she was bent inhumanly into a painful contorted arc. She cried out at the brutal torture, her eyes gaping wide at the strange, ugly face leering down at her between her legs, the vicious lust twisting his bearded features raising abhorrent fear and loathing immediately within her. A shudder passed over her as she realized the wet, golden level of her broadly stretched vagina, sacred and only for her husband, was being offered up to him like that of a bound slave, and that he was crawling up over her in an all-fours position, as if he intended to ravage her upturned, helpless slit without the slightest mercy or humanity.
"My name's Stones, Baby," he grinned down at her, displaying his broken, yellowed teeth. He raised up to his knees so that she could better see his loins. "They call me that because of these," he bragged proudly, lifting the length of his giant prick to show off the huge hair covered sac and testicles that hung between his legs. He chuckled at the expression of awesome panic that flickered across the beautiful girl's face, while Morgan giggled from behind her. "When I come Baby, it's a bellyful of heaven for any broad . . . and right now, you're that lucky chick."
Laurie gasped in near-terror, her shocked gaze locking on the monstrous genitals of the strange man preparing to mount her.
It can't be true! It would tear me apart! What's happening to me? Dear God . . . Phillip . . . Mark . . .! I don't understand . . .!
"Please . . . Mark! Don't let him! My God . . . I can't take that! Please . . . Oh God, let me go, let me go!" she sobbed.
"Go on, Stones . . . fuck her!" Morgan prodded. "Sock it to her, sock it to her, sock it to her!" he chanted gleefully. "I want to see her face when you sink that bitchin' tool of yours into her. I'll bet she'll scream! I'll bet she'll . . ."
"Shut up!" Stones snapped, and he did. "Now, Baby, you just relax and let old Stones show you what a fuck is like, and I promise you a belly full of cock like you've never dreamed of before."
Laurie shuddered again, caught between the seething passion enflaming her still hungrily throbbing vagina and the confusing waves of shame, humiliation and fear that raced through her drugged brain. She couldn't understand why Mark was letting them do this to her. He was off the bed now and she tried to locate him but from her subjugated position it was impossible. She could see only the brute kneeling above her from between her wide held and uplifted legs and his giant cock pointing directly at her. She tossed her head from side to side, tears of frustration streaming down the edges of her cheeks.
And then suddenly, he was holding the length of his prick with his hand and taunting the moist, wide-spread, pink flesh. of her cunt with its hardening spongy head while she watched, the immediate contact of the satiny warm head against the wet, raw flesh of her smoldering aperture instigating wild sensations to instantly spiral through her.
"Ooohhh," she moaned uncontrollably.
"You want it bad, Baby, eh?" he taunted the writhing girl they held helpless beneath him in the obscene upturned buttocks positions. "Want it real bad, don't you?"
"Oh God . . . oh God . . ." Laurie moaned. She was going mad . . . completely out of her mind, as he continued to torment her pussy with the blood inflated head of his tremendous cock. "Ohhhh . . . Oooohhhh . . . I can't stand it any longer . . . put it in . . . put it in! I'll try to take it . . . I want it . . . Yes . . . Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me!" she wailed between clenched teeth and glazed, heavy lidded eyes. And then, she thought she saw Mark standing beside the bed, something in his hand, grinning down at her in her helpless, lewd position, but the raging inferno of lust consuming her palpitating cunt was the only realistic thing in her world . . . nothing else mattered . . . nothing!
"Let go of her ankles, Morgan," Stones ordered. "She and me . . . we're going to do this together . . . civilized like, eh Baby?"
Laurie gasped in relief as she lowered her legs from the painful position, yet still held them bent and high to give him complete access. She caught at his hairy shoulders, digging her nails into the hard flesh as he drew the bulbous head upward between the ragged swollen flanges of her excited cunt, writhing her hips and raising her buttocks in an effort to help.
"Yes . . . ," she hissed. "Yessss . . . we'll do it together . . . Ohhhhh . . . hurry . . . hurry!"
Laurie felt him insinuate the tip of his giant cock into her moist, pulsing vagina, and slowly her eyes began to open . . . wider and wider as he brought expanding pressure to bear at the already dilated mouth of her channel, then, with a flick of his hips, the grinning, bearded ogre forced the huge knob brutally inside the snug, elasticized opening, stretching the resisting rubbery flesh unmercifully.
"Aaaaauuuugggghhhhh!" she cried out, the agonizing, guttural sound coming from the very depths of her soul.
Stones grinned sadistically. He'd sunk into her soft, warm flesh no more than a begrudging inch. He heard Morgan laugh and saw the slick prick who'd hired them taking pictures from all angles. He was also holding the tape recorder with the mike up close to the luscious broad's mouth. What ever the hell this guy was up to, it was dirtypool; but why the hell should he care? They'd each gotten a C-note for their troubles . . . if this could be termed as such. Shit, she was a gorgeous morsel. He wished to hell he didn't have to hurt her, but it was always the same getting his prick into them. In a little while it'd be different . . . he'd stake his reputation on that, but right now she was twisting and whimpering, trying desperately to kick her beautiful legs free and escape the punishing impalement of his cock.
Laurie had begun to strike at him with her hands and fists until the one behind her grabbed her arms and held her. She had been wrong. In her unbelievable need she'd overestimated her capacity. His brutal cock was beyond reason . . . way too big for her. He needed a cow or a mare! She could never take it . . . it was ripping her cuntlips, she knew. The pain was excruciating . . but how could she stop him?
"Please . . . 0-oh, God . . . I can't. I was wrong . . . I can't take it . . . it's too big!"
The bearded one chuckled, raised up higher on his hands and flexed his buttocks once more, inching gently forward, the gigantic organ easing another two-inches into her
"Ooouuugggghhhh! My God . . . Ohhhuugghh! Please . . . I beg you, don't! . . . stop, please!"
Again!
"Eeeeegggghhh!"
Mark Coleman leaned in close to catch every breath, every nuance and groan she uttered with his microphone, while simultaneously lustful spasms of sadistic delight began to course through him at the young girl's plight, his prick beginning to rise inside his shorts, the only garment he wore since emptying his loins into her. Plenty of time for good pictures, he reasoned. Wait until this "hippie" has her dangling on the end of his prick, completely broken. The good ones were all he wanted, just the gems.
"Nooooo. . . nooooooo!" she whined and pleaded, tears flowing in gushes from her drugged, partially opened eyes.
There was something in her beauteous, splenderous, curvaceous body that set Stones off. Sexually, he had craved and had women all his life but this one . . .! Already, his hairy loins were churning. The expression of need and pain simultaneously on her face . . . the way she held her thighs back for him even in her pain . . . the twitching, biting tight lips of her hungry cunt . . .
Christ, if there'd only been a girl like this for him in His plan . . . He couldn't stand it any longer, and in reality if he did it all of a sudden she might even love him more . . . when the torture was passed . . .
"Baby," he said, "forgive me . . . but it's the best way."
He thrust into her, ramming his gigantic cock deep into the tightly resisting channel, sending forth rippling, unfeasible waves of pink soft flesh before it. There was no time for her to scream, in fact, the charge took her breath away.
She jerked convulsively, the erotic, painful shock of his great cock smashing into her belly, filling her like a pregnant cow, she thought, as the inhuman thing throbbed and flexed inside her, smoothing out every crevice and inner secret she might have had. She dared hardly to breathe . . . but never move. Pain stabbed from her knees to her buttocks and through her loins and belly. He'd torn something, she was certain. Her cunt, she knew, was trying desperately to acclimate, but that would have to be impossible . . . yet, there was a measure of depraved sensuality twittering through her . . . and then, a momentary likeness of her Phillip flashed in her mind and angrily she put it from her, all thought of any further resistance to the creeping monster of lust swirling deep in her loins, gone forever . . .
"Oh God . . . don't stop, Stones . . . my Darling," she whimpered suddenly, reaching upward with her hands to the luxury of his bearded face. "Don't stop, my Lover! Do it! Do it! Fuck me like the whore I am! Please, Darling, give your beautiful cock to me . . . Hurt me . . . I love you!"
He went into her then, ungovernably, with ravishing-jolts of the conqueror, his broad pelvis thudding heavily into her upturned crotch.
Mark Coleman watched with lust-inflated delight as the "hippie's" massive sperm bloated balls smacked solidly, insinuating themselves into the wide-split crevice of her ass, dangling and kissing at the tiny puckered ring of her defenseless anus.
Morgan gaped more closely, knowing the mighty cock couldn't plunge in and out of her at this stage. He saw it bury itself and watched as Stones hung above her, immobile, waiting for her to adjust to the presence of his huge prick entombed in her soft white belly. He stared as her agony-twisted face slowly relaxed, the gnashing teeth and screwed-up brow opening and smoothening in welcome adaptation.
"Ahhhh, Darling," she hissed, emptying her lungs of breath.
Stones sensed a feeling of triumph. He flexed his buttocks making the head of his generous prick throb inside the depths of her, and she groaned simperingly, biting at her lower-lip more in fear than reality. He did it again, raising a lesser moan from her, and he knew that her hot channel was growing accustomed to his size. Slowly, gently, he began an affectionate revolving motion with his pelvis, grinding his prick snugly into her naked crotch, endeavoring to expand the tight walls of her vagina until his cock and her pussy fit like a sword in scabbard.
Morgan moved closer from his side of the bed, as was Mark Coleman beyond, both of them gaping lustfully at her tight, tiny cunt . . . able to consume all of Stones' deeply buried member. Margan's hand moved out and he squeezed at the round, full breast nearest to him. Mark found the moon-shaped cheek of her ass closest to him and caressed it. Envious hate welled up inside him. She'd been his . . . but he hadn't been able to satisfy her . . . he had blown his wad too soon.
Morgan ran his hand down her smooth, satiny side, over her hip to the stretched orb of her buttock. He moved forward and inward beneath Stones' balls to the tiny puckered ring of her anus, playing . . . hopefully with teasing taunts, then, suddenly thrust, popping his finger through the tightly surrounding nether ring, digging deeply into the soft, rubbery flesh inside. He moved it around the tiny sucking hole, ever pushing inward, until the palm of his intruding hand lay flat against the full rounded moons of the cheeks of her ass, his whole finger, like a miniature prick, sunk securely inside the flexing channel.
Suddenly, Stones raised up, slipping his massive cock up and out of her then, slowly penetrating to the same depths . . . back and forth . . . in and out of Laurie's widely stretched cunt, sawing patiently, thrusting into her and slowly withdrawing almost to the apex, while Morkan plunged into her ass with his hungry driving finger . . . in and out . . . trying to join Stones' great gentle cock in a dual rhythmic fucking that raised groans of pain-pleasure from Laurie's open lips . . . almost in tempo with their depraved ravaging.
The excitement Mark Coleman had instigated inside her had never left. But now, a weird sensation of tortured happiness dribbled through her helpless body. The unbelievable debasement and subjugation they were committing her to caused weird masochist delights to flood through her. It seemed as if she hardly knew her name . . . or her reason for being . . . .unless it was for . . . absorbing this complete stranger's immense cock like an animal, while the others performed the lewdest of acts on her helpless body. Sensations of rapture knifed through her even as she thought these things.
"Yesss, oh yesss, fuck me, my Darling!" she whimpered. "Pull any tits . . . shove your finger in my ass . . . hurt me! Only . . . make me live! Please . . . please . . . make me live, Lover!" she mumbled on and on, squirming her body lewdly beneath him.
Mark Coleman kicked off his shorts once more to unleash his rigid, aching cock. He grabbed up his camera and began shooting pictures from every conceivable angle, getting many of the abandon and ecstatic expressions continually changing wantonly on her beautiful sweat covered face.
"Turn her over," he ordered Stones. "Get her up on her knees. Hurry up."
Laurie groaned, reaching frantically for him as Stones drew his huge cock out of her, her fogged and sensuously striving brain aware only that the pleasure giving pole of flesh was escaping from her wildly excited cunt to leave her empty again.
"Oh no . . . no!" she sobbed.
"It's all right, Baby, just turn over," Stones said, helping her roll onto her belly and raise to her knees. "That's it," he mumbled, staring at the beautiful sight of the full moons of her buttocks stretched up in sacrificial offering to him. She rested, panting for a moment on all fours, the soft white moons of her buttocks waving high in the air, then dropped her face to the bed.
Christ, he'd never seen anything like it! His enormous balls tingled and ached, and he longed to ram forward into the narrow teasing slit swinging in the air before him but he held himself . . . he didn't want to hurt her . . . only fuck her.
Laurie moaned, her face buried in the pillow, waiting with near unbearable anticipation for that second when the wonderful cock would slip back up inside her to quench the maddening flames that were licking out of control through her crotch and belly. Suddenly she felt his big hands on her hips and the hair on his legs as he knelt behind and between her open thighs. She waved the stretched orbs of her buttocks back at him, feeling the blunt end of his prick pressing into the wet slit of her crotch. With a groan he raced into her uncontrollably, burying the long thick organ deep up her channel, causing her to lurch forward in surprise and pain. She opened her eyes with a start from the force of his lunge, and it was then that she noticed the other movement around her head. Fingers began fumbling with her lips and she gaped in her numbed stupor at the grinning face of the chinless Morgan, his mouth wet with the saliva drooling from it, his thin long cock in his hand, not a half inch from her mouth.
She tried to twist her head away . . . it was useless. It was as if her face between his dirty hands was caught in a vice. Again, he pried at her mouth and she felt the spongy, wet sensation of its head being forced between her lips. She clenched her teeth in one last terror filled attempt to avoid the repulsive, degrading act, but the great cock fucking into her from behind aided with an extra hard plunge and she gasped. It was all Morgan needed to send his long, thin prick crushing through her soft, moist lips and deep into the warm, wet cavern of her mouth. No longer did it seem thin to her as she felt its hugeness slithering up the length of her tongue and filling her mouth completely with its fleshy hardness.
Morgan knelt on the bed in front of her grasping both sides of her head to hold it firm while he sawed into her face, his prick slowly sliding in and out of her mouth as if it were a second delicious cunt. Mentally, Laurie struggled against the obscene and humiliating ravaging of her mouth, but there was little time to think as he quickened his strokes to the tempo of Stones' great cock fucking into her from behind, never quite pulling it out all the way, but always leaving a slight part of the tip beyond her lips in the hot, moist residence of her mouth.
Again, Laurie clutched her eyes tightly shut, momentarily, her degradation knowing no limits. Once, she gagged as he rammed it half-way down her throat, its length disappearing between her ovaled lips almost to the hilt. She felt his balls graze her face, the wiry pubic hair tickling the sensitive skin of her chin. She struggled to breathe, gasping gulps of air on every outstroke.
"Suck it! Suck it! Suck it hard, Baby!" Morgan chanted, as they buffeted her back and forth between them in their dual depraved ravishment of her body.
And to Laurie, once again, there was nothing left in the world but the lewd debauchery they were subjecting her to . . . even shame had deserted her as she found herself sucking vigorously with her mouth and grinding her buttocks behind, aware only of the ungovernable desire where the shame should have been . . . her desire to reach that point that was building .: . ever building deep, deep inside her.
The very helplessness of her position flickered through her mind, the mere thought of her soft white body being fucked by two lust-filled strangers she had never before seen in her young life inciting her wildly. The fire in her belly raged on insanely as she undulated her buttocks in taunting little circles, squeezing with her inner cunt muscles at the heavenly rod of flesh drilling into her. She pulled at the cock stroking sleekly in and out of her mouth with voracious sucking sounds, her cheeks hollowing and filling with his every thrust, the lust-inciting pungency of his prick causing her to explore its every ridge and pore, her tongue-tip licking hungrily at the blood-filled head, probing feverishly into the tiny split at the end. She wanted it to squirt its white, hot cum in her mouth, wanted to gulp it and feel it dribbling down her throat filling her belly, while the massive shaft fucking into her from behind flooded her cunt until she was completely saturated and immersed in the viscid, life-giving liquid.
Behind her, Stones could feel himself ever climbing toward his apex. Soon, he thought, soon . . . soon . . . and he began to fuck faster into her, with quickened, longer, harder, harder strokes, until he was battering the quivering cheeks of her ass with unreasonable ferocity, his hips driving as if machine-powered. His big hands gripped her waist hard, oozing the soft flaccid flesh between and beneath his clutching fingers like white, resilient putty. His mouth was open now, his yellowed teeth bared as he drew back his lips; his breath rasped harshly in short, uneven gasps and he gaped down at her slender bucking body and bobbing. head. He watched Morgan's rapier-like cock disappearing into the beautiful young face and spasms of electrified sensations rifled through him. He tore at her buttocks, stretching the twin moons as wide apart as he could and watched his own giant cock vanish from sight into the moist pink flanges of her tight palpitating cunt.
"Christ!" he barked. "Oh Christ!"
Like a mounting bull, he pumped into her from behind, imagining the sight of her tender lipstick rimmed lips clasping and unclasping around the growing cock of Morgan in front, who no longer had to force her to suck him. She was working like a demon in a daze, licking at the hardened shaft of flesh thrust deep into her warm mouth, while the bastard who'd hired them kept clicking his camera, running around the bed with his own prick jutting out like a hoe-handle.
On and on it went, their expanding rock-hard cocks plunging into both ends of her bent and aching body, the unbelievable ecstasy they were bringing her completely saturating her mentally and physically. She was in another world where cocks and cunt alone existed . . . and she never wanted to leave it.
The saliva in her mouth thickened. It was becoming more sticky now and she tasted the tang of the minute emissions of lubricating fluid seeping from the tiny split in the head of the cock fucking her mouth. She could feel the spongy head growing deep in her throat and his hips writhing and straining as he moved toward climax. His fingers were curled tightly in her long hair, manipulating her mouth back and forth on the end of his thrusting organ, fucking into her face as if her mouth was another cunt into which he was releasing the full wrath of his animal-like lust. She moaned around it and it thrust forward hard down into her throat as though it were trying to meet the other massive prick screwing deep into her belly from behind . . .
Oh God! Oh my God . . .!
The heavens burst open even as her own belated orgasm began to rise toward a pinpoint inside her! This had to be it! Yes! Yes! She felt the great cock fucking into her from behind jerk and begin spewing its white, hot load deep up into her wildly clasping cunt. It splashed insanely around inside her, foaming back from her hairlined cunt-lips onto the already drenched pubic hair of his pelvis. His balls jammed tightly against her exposed clitoris caused her body to jerk forward spasmodically, driving the cock in her madly sucking mouth to the hilt. Then, it too, exploded, gushing forth thick streams of the creamy, pungent liquid into her throat, her cheeks bloating and contracting as she swallowed to keep from choking on the great continual spurts issuing from it. She swallowed in hungry, thick gulps, fearful of losing even a tiny drop of the precious fluid. Small dribbles seeped from the corners of her mouth as he collapsed away from her and his shrinking penis slithered lifelessly from her still sucking mouth, thin sticky strings of the white viscid liquid stretching from her lips to the flaccid member pulling away from her.
Wildly, she screwed her buttocks hungrily back onto the still squirting prick in her cunt, and with a shriek from between her tightly clenched teeth, she felt her whole body burst into what seemed a never ending stream of blissful sensations of release and she continued to sob out her ecstasy until the very life drained from her and she fell forward onto the bed, the useless prick of the bearded Stones slipping limply from her wet, quivering pussy . . .
God. . . she had to sleep . . . had to . . . Mustn't think . . . no . . . no . . . just sleep . . .
* * *
While Laurie lay obscenely sprawled on the bed face down, caught up in the exhausted and drug induced throes of sleep, Mark Coleman paid off his hired cohorts, gave them each a needed drink and let them out into the night. He went back to the bed then to stare down at the disheveled but still intoxicating sight of the young Laurie Gates' naked, well fucked body. His cock was still as hard as a rod of iron. He was going to have one more crack at that luscious tight cunt before he took her back to the Ambassador Hotel. It would be simple enough getting her in through a service entrance and up to her room . . . and there was still plenty of time before Dianne would finish with Phillip, he felt sure . . . Slowly, he dropped on the bed beside her, running his hand over the satiny smooth mound of her buttock to her thigh, then between her still splayed legs to the slit of her cunt. She gave a little start and moan at his touch, but then lay still
.
With little difficulty, he rolled her onto her back and climbed between her legs, drawing the head of his cock up through her sperm drenched slit to spread open the swollen pink lips of her pussy. Once more, she moaned lightly, her eyes closed, but he saw the little simpering smile of delight tugging at the corners of her lips. Slowly, she raised her legs and he slipped into her moist, warm depths . . . but never once did she fully awaken and he fucked her to his heart's content . . . until his balls ached from the draining strain he put on them. A long time later, he brought her partially to consciousness and helped her dress. Then, he took her back to the hotel.
It was nearly four o'clock in the morning and he had some pictures to develop before daylight. Dianne had been emphatic about that; she planned to use them the moment they were ready.
Chapter Seven
Dianne Coleman smiled into the huge pusy face of Judge Julian Reed. She watched the small, near fat-hidden eyes rake her body lecherously, as always, the tiny tongue licking out at the small wormish-lips of his baby like mouth. He rolled his wheelchair into the room with an effort, his great bloated bulk hardly able to wedge into the aluminum tubular frame. He was alone, which was exactly what she had hoped for, and she remained standing by the door where she'd entered at his acknowledgment of her ring, awaiting his invitation to sit.
He made a little pinched grin and said: "And to what do I owe this charming visit, my dear?"
Dianne watched the continuing little smile, her stomach knotting in momentary revulsion, memories of despicable acts she had been forced to endure with him in the past racing through her mind. Those, too, she remembered, had been to insure Mark's political future, but this time the shoe was on the other foot. She was holding all the winning cards, and the stakes were even higher.
"Business, Judge," she said, a wry smile of her own stretching her pretty mouth. "May I sit down?"
"Please do." He nodded toward a chair in front of him and she lowered herself into it. His eyes watched hungrily as with knowing purpose Dianne let her short skirt slip up high to expose the thighs of her crossed legs. He waited for a moment, his small lusty eyes never leaving the nylon encased, soft white flesh he was already familiar with. Finally, he said: "Well, my dear?"
"I want your endorsement for Mark, Judge," she said simply. "We need the powerful Reed Machine behind us if my husband's ever to be the next Governor."
He studied her for a moment, his expression unchanging. In a while, he said: "As simple as that, eh?" He made a short grunting sound that Dianne took to be a cynical laughing intention. "Humph . . . I might've guessed. You know; my dear . . . you're a terribly ambitious young woman . . . lovely and desirable. too, but . . . treacherously ambitious."
Dianne returned his almost sneering smile in kind. "So . . .? I should think you of all people would appreciate that trait, Judge."
"Oh, I do. . . I do," he replied evenly. "Which is exactly why I'm not backing Mark Coleman, my pet . . . I don't trust you, his lovely, sexy wife. No, Mrs. Coleman, the Reed Machine will endorse Bryon Acker, and he'll be this state's next governor."
Dianne could feel her face flushing with the rage mounting inside her. God, how she despised this foul beast . . . and nothing would ever give her greater pleasure than what she was about to do. But she must control herself, maintain her dignity, savor every delicious moment of what was to come . . .
"That's too bad," she said caustically. She moved forward to the edge of her chair, uncrossing her legs and pushing her skirt back even more to expose a fraction of an inch of naked, white thigh. "You leave me no choice then, your honor." She opened her purse and extracted an envelope, holding it out to him.
His beady eyes moved from the provocative sight of her shapely displayed leg to the envelope, then, to her face.
"What's this?" he snapped.
"You're the judge . . . I'll let you decide," Dianne remarked, pressing the envelope forward. His fat pusy hand reached out and snatched it from her grasp while his eyes locked with hers. "I warn you, girl, don't try any of your shenanigans with me . . ."
Dianne said nothing, only watched with pure delight the changing expressions of shock, then anger, and finally flushed confusion as quickly he shuffled through the lewd prints of his precious niece engaged in wild, salacious sex with two vile looking hippies like some common street trollop.
"Enlightening, aren't they, Judge? Nice and clear, too . . . No difficulty in determining the identity of the girl . . . although I wouldn't have any idea who the dregs are that she's fucking and sucking . . . would you?"
For a moment, Dianne thought he might burst. His face was flushed tomato-red and his breathing was coming in short, heavy gasps. She sat back in her chair once more, watching him calmly reveling in the descriptive filth she had spat at him.
"Wh-Where did you get these?" he snapped, his voice quivering.
Dianne smiled. "That's not the important issue, Judge . . . the fact is, that I have them . . . and intend to use them, if necessary."
He stared at her, vicious hatred distorting his already grotesque face. "You bitch!" he spat venomously. "You unscrupulous whore, you . . .!"
Dianne couldn't help but toss back her pretty head in laughter. She said: "Bitch . . .? Whore . . .? Perhaps, you're right, . . . but unscrupulous . . .? Isn't that kind of like the pot calling the kettle black . . . your honor?"
He gaped at her, then slowly seemed to relax into his massive flab, his head sinking down into his shoulders like a tortoise pulling partially into its shell. He sighed heavily, then began mumbling almost as if to himself.
"I-I can't believe it . . . always such a sweet, shy girl . . ." He fumbled through the pictures again, and momentarily Dianne thought she detected a glint of lust flickering in his unpredictable eyes, only to disappear then return in alternating fashion. "I-I just can't believe it . . . such filthy looking animals . . .fucking and sucking them . . . Christ . . . look at her face . . . the little slut . . ." Suddenly, he raised his eyes and said: "Blackmail, eh? Either I endorse the Senator or you turn these over to a newspaper or magazine . . . is that it?"
Dianne's eyes narrowed. "Precisely, Judge . . . and I would doubt that such publicity would help your "Kingly" position, or the party's nominee.
"What makes you so sure that personal scandal would have any effect politically?" he shot at her.
"I'm not sure . . . but I'm willing to gamble, Judge . . . are you?"
Once more, he sighed. Finally, he said: "No . . . I'm not . . . and you counted on that, didn't you, bitch?"
Dianne smiled triumphantly. "Of course I counted on it. I was as sure of it as I am that Mark will be the next governor." Slowly, she arose, her chin high, her face a mask of vindictive hatred. "And you will endorse him, Judge Reed . . . tonight."
He stared at her. "You . . . you give me little choice, Mrs. Coleman," he said, his voice reminding her of a snake hissing. She shuddered inwardly. "But remember . . . be on your guard, my dear . . . this is only a skirmish . . . not the battle."
Dianne couldn't help but tremble openly at his warning. She knew that he witnessed her fear and angrily she struck back at him. "Every since you first used my body for your loathsome depravities I've despised you . . . you repulsive gargoylish freak! I swore I'd get back at you, and I have. But this is only the beginning! I'll break you before I'm finished. I'll see you squealing for mercy like the mountain of pus that you are! You hear me, Judge Reed? I'm going to destroy you!"
"Get out, pig! Get out of here before I change my mind and rid the world of another broken down, two-bit slut!" he snarled at her. "Just one thing . . . I want those negatives and prints up here by tomorrow morning, you understand?"
Dianne had reached the door. She turned. "You do your part tonight and you'll have the negatives in the morning. Otherwise, every expose newspaper and magazine in the country will have them. Do you understand?"
"I understand, you fucking pig! Now, get out!"
"Freak!" she spat.
"Get out! Get out! Get out, you fucking whore!" he screamed.
Chapter Eight
The sun was high, streaming in the open draped hotel window at ten o'clock in the morning. Laurie awakened with a start, saw that the other half of the bed had been slept in and was deserted. She sat up quickly, her head immediately beginning to spin. Slowly, she dropped it back to the pillow and lay deathly still to keep it from falling off.
My God, what was wrong with her; she was so dizzy? Again, she looked over at the empty space beside her. Phillip had come in while she slept and left without awakening her. She had no idea what time he'd come home, where he'd been, or where he'd gotten to now . . . Of course .. he had to be someplace in the hotel . . . politics . . . with Uncle Julian, she would guess . . . Good Lord! How had she herself gotten home? She remembered none of it. She looked down at herself; she was naked, but for the life of her she couldn't recall undressing or anything after . . . after. . .
Oh, my dear God! It came back to her in bits and pieces . . . scraps of indelible, lewd scenes racing through her whirling brain . . . names and faces . . . Stones, Morgan, bearded and chinless . . . Mark Coleman . . . with she, her own self, in the middle . a human receptacle for their lust . . . My God, it couldn't be! It was a dream . . . a nightmare! But her body ached so . . . She touched her breasts with her hands, moving them carefully over the round full mounds of flesh . . . Oohhhh . . . so tender. She smoothed her hands down across her stomach, spreading her thighs slightly as she explored the sensitive lips of her vagina. Again, she moaned at the slight bruises her tenderly probing fingers discovered; the slippery sperm of strangers still oozing from the tight, inflamed mouth of her passage wetly covered her fingertips. It was no dream . . . it had actually happened!
A feeling of deep, cheapening shame immediately overwhelmed her. She rolled her face into the pillow and began to sob as more and more, the lewd, adulterous revelry she had participated in only hours before began to vividly present itself to mind in graphic, licentious detail.
Oh dear God, dear God! What happened to me? I was no better than an animal . . . wanting those vile, filthy men to perform their depraved acts on me . . . and I loved it . . . wanted it! Ooohhhh . . . what will happen if Phillip finds out? My God, I'm nothing but a slut . . . a wanton bitch! I don't deserve him . . . I don't! He'll leave me if he ever learns the truth; I'm sure of that . . . and then nothing will matter anymore . . . He mustn't find out . . . he mustn't! I'll go to Mark Coleman and beg him . . . I'll do anything he asks . . . only Phillip must never find out! . . . Got to get out of this bed . . . go to Mark . . . beg him . . . anything . . .!
She sat up slowly, swinging her feet out to the floor, holding her head between her hands, desperately trying to focus her eyes on particular objects. Nausea gripped her, but then passed. With an effort, she got to her feet and plodded stumblingly in her voluptuous nakedness toward the bathroom. A cold shower was what she needed. She had to get hold of herself . . . had to. Coffee . . . . Shower first, then, have coffee sent up. . . Get to Mark Coleman as soon as possible . . . Yes, Yes. . .
* * *
Phillip Gates moved in a semi-coma. He had slipped into bed beside his innocent young wife's sleeping figure after leaving another women with whom he had made passionate, animal-like love for hours, then away from her in the early light of day before she could question him. He couldn't face her. Really, outside of getting the preliminaries straightened around, there was no reason for long dialogue anyway. It was over between them; Laurie was too good for him. If he'd ever had any principles, he'd long since lost them. When this was over, the nomination settled, he would sit down with her, try to explain . . . then, disappear. Someplace, there had to be a life even for a heel like him . . .
"Phil, boy . I'll buy your breakfast," Bryon Acker said, leaning over his table not seconds after he'd seated himself and picked up the menu.
Phillip forced a smile. "Sit down, Bryon. Let me buy the next governor his breakfast."
Acker grinned and sat down. He was not an unattractive man with his graying temples, his wide, honest dark eyes and white toothsome smile. He was in his forties and had held a Rio Lado City Councilman position for a number of years. He'd had no aspirations toward the gubernatorial office until Judge Julian Reed tapped his shoulder. He was Country-Club, a heavy land holder, but basically a man of the people. He said:
"One day, you'll make a shrewd politician, Phil."
"I doubt it . . . but today's the big day for you isn't it?"
"Maybe. You never can be sure boy . . . not till the last ballot is cast. Have you seen the Judge?"
"No. I called. He won't see anyone before this afternoon, "Phillip said. "I'll talked to that secretary of his. She says he's in some kind of rare mood. He told her to get out, too."
"Yeah?" Acker's eyes opened wider. "What's wrong?"
"I've no idea," said Phillip, matter of factly.
"Something's wrong though, eh?" Acker said nervously. "I mean, he doesn't go off like this unless something's eating at him, right?"
Phillip shrugged. "I'm as much in the dark as you are, Bryon. Relax. You know you're his boy. Why stew? What could it be that . . . ."
"There's only one thing that's important right now, Phillip," the Councilman interrupted. "The nominee for the next Governor . . . What else could upset him? Maybe, he's having second thoughts about . . . about me?"
"Oh, come on, Bryon. You're making mountains. Look . . . relax. Here comes the waitress.
With the aid of the shower and coffee, Laurie shook off the cobwebs. Her reflexes were still subnormal and her thinking capacity anything but keen, but she'd managed to catch hold of herself enough to reason that self-reproof and lamentation was going to get her exactly nowhere. What was done could not be undone . . . but why it had been done to her, this was another issue. There was no longer any question in her mind but what she had been drugged, and undoubtedly by Mark Coleman . . . He had planned his vile assault knowing that in a helpless, drugged state she'd be subject to his most depraved whim . . . and God knows, she had been . . . But how had he been so certain that Phillip wouldn't come back and catch him in the very act? And why hadn't Phillip come back? Had Mark told the truth about Dianne and Phillip being childhood sweethearts . . . lovers for years? Was this the inner-burden Phillip had been carrying inside him . . .? Why had he kept it from her? Why had he married her? Who were the two loathsome creatures, Stones and Morgan who'd raped her . . . where had they come from?
She dressed slowly, her brain reeling with the myriad of unanswerable questions she had put to it. A dozen times she found her face flushing at different lurid visions of her own animal performance only hours before. My God, was it possible? Little prurient sensations suddenly flitted through her at the mere thought. Well, one thing was certain, she'd found herself sexually, if that was the only good to ever come from such a horror. Now, she could give her whole, free, open self to Phillip in a manner he 'had never before dreamed. If she'd ever had had any inhibitions, they were gone now . . . Stones and Morgan had seen to that . . .
The telephone rang while she was combing out her long, silken, reddish-blonde hair before the mirror, letting it drape loosely down over her shoulders. Phillip, she thought, wanting her to join him for breakfast perhaps . . .
"Hello . . . Oh, Uncle Julian . . . Up to your suite . . .? Well, I . . . All right, I'll come. I haven't had breakfast . . . Yes . . . Uncle Julian . . . is there something wrong? Y-Yes, I hear . . . right away . . ."
Her uncle's tone of voice had been anything but inviting. There'd been a clipped note of wrath underlying it that had caused a little chill to creep along her spine. From experience, she knew how unpleasant he could be when he was irate. Something was bothering him; but she made up her mind that she wasn't going to let him browbeat her, regardless . . . She was a married woman now and no longer subject to his jurisdiction . . . besides, she had to see Mark Coleman and talk to him as soon as possible . . .
* * *
Laurie opened the door and entered his suite as he'd told her to do on the telephone. He was alone, he'd said, and would be in the bedroom.
"Uncle Julian . . .?" she called.
"In here," his voice came to her from the room beyond. "Lock the outer door."
Laurie did as instructed and entered the bedroom. Her uncle lay on the king-sized bed in his robe, a maroon-colored satiny, tent-like garment held together by yards of braided cord encircling his middle. To Laurie, he resembled a great massive ball with head and limbs jutting straight out, as if they had been stuck into the main torso like matchsticks in a potato. The almost grey, dimpled, puttyish flesh of his naked legs from the knees down were visible to her; the sight was not relishable to her empty stomach, but she forced a smile.
"Don't you feel well, Uncle Julian?" she questioned, moving to the side of the bed.
His eyes had followed her unflinchingly since she'd entered the room. They remained on her now. "Not too well, at this point."
"What's wrong? Perhaps I should send for the house doctor . . .?"
"That won't be necessary. Sit down . . . here on the bed beside me," he ordered, his small tongue slipping out to lick at his lips.
Laurie hesitated, finally obeying. "What is it, Uncle Julian? You sounded . . . upset over the phone . . ."
"I'm that . . . all of that to say the least . . . my sweet little slut niece," he said, his voice suddenly decreasing in volume to a near hissing sibilance.
Laurie stiffened as if ice-water had been injected through her veins. She stared at him in disbelief. Had she heard correctly? "I-I beg your pardon . . .?"
"You should, you little bitch . . . and your husband's along with mine!" he spat at her. From the side away from her, he produced an envelope, tossing it at her. "Open it, slut . . . see what a pretty picture you make as a whore!"
Laurie stared at the envelope, frozen, unable to move, tight little knots beginning to lump in her stomach.
"Open it, I said," the huge man barked.
She did, with fumbling fingers, her mouth dropping loose in abject horror as one by one she viewed the horrible snapshots of herself, Stones and Morgan engaged in their gross, obscene circus the night before. She paled, and momentarily, a giddiness swept over her. The room began to swim and she had to catch herself to keep from toppling. Suddenly, she felt the flab of his strong hand on her arms as if in support and she quickly forced herself erect.
"Well . . . what do you have to say?" he shot at her. "Don't just sit there pretending the little Miss Goodie Two-Shoes bit. The cunt in those pictures is you, bitch! That's your mouth that filthy cock is stuffed into . . . now, who are they? And where and when were these taken?"
"Stop it! Stop it!" Laurie sobbed, trying to wrench free of his grasp, but unsuccessfully, the tears beginning to stream down her cheeks. "Oh God, let me go . . . please, Uncle Julian . . ."
"I'll let you go . . . when I'm through with you, damn your little whore soul!" he snarled, raising his great bulk to one elbow while the other clutched at her wrist savagely. "You know what you've done to me with those pictures? You've compromised me . . . tied my hands . . . stripped me of my power! Now, unless I agree to endorse Mark Coleman for governor, these pictures will be turned over to the newspaper . . . and what a hell of a nice scandal that'd make, eh?"
"Oh . . . Oh my God!" Laurie gasped. "Y-You can't let that happen, Uncle Julian. You can't! If Phillip ever finds out . . . Oh no, no! Please, don't let Phillip learn of these . . ."
"You should've thought of that before you started peddling your ass around, slut . . ."
But you don't understand," Laurie said through her tears. "I was drugged. I didn't know . . ."
"Drugged? By whom? Where? When?"
"Last night by Mark Coleman at his party," she blurted. "Those two men . . . I never saw them before in my life."
"A likely story."
"It's the truth, Uncle Julian, I swear it," she insisted, imploring him to believe her. "Mark Coleman must have taken the pictures. I'm not sure, I was too groggy . . ."
"You look more than groggy in these shots," he spat, picking them up in one hand and thumbing through them. "You look like a cock-happy slut enjoying the fucking of her life . . ."
"Oh please . . . please stop talking that way, Uncle Julian," Laurie begged. "I m telling you the truth, I swear it . . ."
"Humph," he sneered. "You swear it and I'm supposed to believe it eh? Is that it? After all I've done, for you, this is the way you repay me. Pig! And when I think of the times you shied away from me . . . afraid I was going to touch you . . . put my hand on your plump little ass, or feel a tit . . . me, your own uncle . . . I wasn't good enough to put my hand on you, but those bums can shove their cocks in you anywhere they like . . ."
"Stop it! You don't know what you're saying!" Laurie half screamed at him, refusing to believe what her ears had actually heard and what she'd felt to be true since she'd first come into his house . . . he'd wanted her sexually! The utter sickening thought nauseated her.
Again, she tried to free her arm but he held tight to her. He was staring at the pictures, one by one, his small beady eyes suddenly reflecting the lecherous lust she had witnessed there so many times in the past. A panicky feeling of odious dread gripped at her entrails.
"Well now . . . let's see," he gloated. "I wonder what Phillip will think of this one?"
He thrust the pornographic print before her eyes. It was one of the complete debauchery; with Stones mounting her from behind, his enormous penis sunk to its very hilt between the hair-fringed folds of her vagina while Morgan was kneeling before her face, his member shoved into her mouth . . . her lips locked obscenely around it as if they never intended to let go. A ripple of sensation that she couldn't help coursed through her as the sight brought back the actual memory. She shook her head, raising her eyes once more to the bloated, licentious face.
"Y-You wouldn't . . . My God, you can't, Uncle Julian," she whimpered. "It would be the end for us. Phillip would never understand . . . I know he wouldn't . . .
"I can . . . and I will," he said, This small mouth hardly moving, his tiny eyes suddenly raking her body salaciously. "Why shouldn't I? You've destroyed me, now I'll give you a taste of the same . . . unless . . ."
He paused there and she stared at. him, abhorrent terror keeping her momentarily from asking the question. Finally, she said: "Un-Un-less . . .?"
His wormish lips spread into a foul grin. "Unless . . . you're nice to me."
"N-Nice? H-Haven't I always been nice to you, Uncle . . .?"
"Enough of this nonsense!" His hand still clutching her wrist tightened, viciously. "Undress . . . now . . . this minute . . . every last godamned stitch off . . . off! You hear? Now!"
This time he let her free and she leaped to her feet, backing away from the bed, tears of frustration and mixed emotions bathing her cheeks as she gaped in unbelieving horror at this foul beast who was ordering her to commit the most unpardonable of all sins . . . incest.
"You're insane!" she threw at him through contorted, crying lips. "My uncle . . . my own mother's brother . . . . What are you, an animal . . .?"
"What difference does that make to a whore?" he sneered at her "What do you care who fucks you, pig, as long as you get paid? And I've already paid. Now . . . take off your clothes!"
"I won't! I won't!" Laurie wailed, still backing away from him. "I'm going to find Phillip . . . tell him everything . . . tell him exactly what you are and what you wanted me to do . . .!"
"Go ahead!" Julian Reed said grinning. "You do that. Go find him and tell him what a dirty little cock-sucker you are! Tell him to come up here and see the pictures first hand! Well . . .? What're you waiting for, bitch? Go tell him!"
Laurie stumbled backwards to a halt in the center of the room, her body convulsing with her sobs. Slowly then she sunk downward, her legs seeming to cave beneath her as she dropped to the floor. There, she buried her face and wept, refusing to think further of this monstrous nightmare endeavoring to engulf her and destroy her reason . . .
Time passed and she laid there. Once, there came a knock at the outer door, but when they didn't answer whomever it was went away. In a while her mind began to function again. She could hear his raspy, heavy breathing on the bed. In her racing mind, she had concluded that he would tell Phillip everything, using the pictures for pointed, unreproachable proof. She weighed her own word against all of this, her love for her husband . . . the fact that he had disappeared last night with Dianne Coleman . . . she felt helpless. Time . . . she needed time to show Phillip, to bring him to his senses, to get him away from all this. They would be all right then, she was certain of it, if only she had the time . . . but that was the one thing she did not have. Maybe, Uncle Julian knew this too . . . He was clever . . . and wounded right now by those pictures . . . stripped of his power . . . and what was Uncle Julian without his power? God . . . she even felt sorry for him. She had put him in the position he was in . . . endorsing Mark Coleman for an office that she, herself knew the man was incapable, of . . . a crime before the state, itself.
Where were the answers? If there was a way it was as much her duty as anyone's to find it. Dear God . . . there were even more important things than Phillip and herself . . . than her very own life . . .! Her parents had given their breaths for what they believed. How many soldiers had died and would go on dying for what they had faith in? Faith . . . courage . . . integrity . . . Integrity . . .? She almost laughed into the nap of the carpeting. Moral wholesomeness . . . God, Mommy and Daddy would turn over in their graves.
Suddenly, she sat up. "Uncle Julian . . .?"
"I'm waiting."
"Is-Is there a way of beating them . . . the Colemans, I mean."
Silence. "Yes . . . one way. I've given it considerable thought."
"Even with the pictures?" she questioned.
He laughed. "Pictures . . . whatever . . . nothing can change what I have in mind, little girl."
She tried to absorb his words. They made little or no sense. She said: "Are you . . . still set in your mind . . . determined that I should take my clothes off . . . I mean . . .?"
"Exactly. Now. I want this Laurie. I'll try to make it as acceptable as possible . . ."
Again, the thought repulsed her. "Oh God, she whimpered. "Is it necessary, Uncle Julian? You know what you're doing . . .?"
He interrupted. "I know. Yes. it's vital to me.
I've carried the desire inside me as long as a man should. Listen to me, Laurie . . . I can't change the past . . . but maybe, I can help the future."
Her mind immediately became a maze of questions, all of which she realized she was never going to ask. Instead, she slowly gained her feet and began to unfasten her skirt. In her brain she dwelt dazedly upon the plights of Lot. She satisfied herself by giving the deepest thought to his two daughters . . . and then, when she was completely naked, she went over to lay down beside her uncle . . .
"All right . . . here I am, God forgive me," she said evenly to him. "In biblical terms . . . do with me what thou wilt!"
Julian Reed lay propped on his elbow, watching, with raw, lust-crazed eyes the sensual sight of his niece undressing resignedly before him. He drank in the beauty of her large breasts, hanging down as she bent over to pick up her things, then taunting as she straightened upright. She came toward the bed saying something that he hardly heard. She started to move onto the bed beside him and he said:
"Wait! Stand there . . . let me look at you . . ."
She did, her chin high, her eyes not seeing him. Christ she was beautiful, just as he knew she would be. Her figure was perfect . . . so young and firm . . . the rib lines above the waist where the skin pilled in under the large bulge of her breasts . . . the little belly button with the thin line of down running downward to the sparse reddish gilded curls of silken hair against which the white tops of her thighs pressed in an effort of concealment . . . the rounding of the hips with the slight bulge of the thighbones continuing up in a V . . . the thighs themselves, white and vulnerable with the well shaped legs tapering below . . . She was all breasts, hips and thighs, made to be seized and crushed in wild, sensual rape!
He gaped in hungry fascination, his massive torso rising and falling in raspy, quickening breaths. He said: "Turn around."
Without looking at him, Laurie turned slowly, profiling for a moment the forward jut, backward push of breasts and buttocks, the shallow S-shape of body, and then her back was presented to him with the slimness from the shoulders to the waist, accentuated by the tightness of the smooth, satiny white flesh over her frame and by the full, bulging of her behind into soft, warm-looking creamy white buttocks and the long, milk thighs tapering below. She was shivering all over now.
"My Christ!" His voice trembled. "You're beautiful, child . . .! Come here . . . lay down beside me. I-I've got to feel you . . .!"
She did, moving as if mechanically, desperately trying to block off her mind from all sense of reality, thoughts of Phillip and he alone filling her brain . . . for you, my darling, Phillip . . . I'd endure the tortures of the damned for you . . . Oh, my God!
She sensed his great weight rolling toward her as she lay on her back beside him, eyes tightly shut . . . smelling his odor of soap and cologne and sweat . . . Then! His thick, stubby hot hand clutched her breast, stroking, squeezing and kneading, his breath hot and sour in her face. She rolled her head away from him and felt a portion of his massiveness move over and above her breast. He was kissing them hungrily and she steeled herself to keep from cringing beneath him as his wet, wormish lips traced their moist paths to the tips, hardening them in spite of her revulsion.
She couldn't restrain herself from opening her eyes and glancing at the huge head hovering above her chest. Nervous beads of sweat had begun to roll along his jowls as his fat wet palms glided unimpeded over the firm contours, cupping and twisting them brutally until Laurie whimpered aloud from the pain and humiliation. Then, they were moving down over the flatness of her belly toward the mound of hair-covered flesh at her pelvis . . . lingering and teasing there before moving further downward in an attempt to trace the thin, tight red slit she was protecting between clenched thighs.
"Open them!" he gasped. She did, slightly. "Wider . . . wider, damnit!"
Overwhelming shame enveloped her as she felt his pudgy finger teasing the soft curls of pubic hair around the lips of her vagina while his heavy head lay cushioned upon her breasts. She felt the thick digit move inside her, spreading the flanges of her pussy open as it slid upward through the moist, pink, velvety flesh, gliding between its inner petals to the nub of her clitoris, flicking at it maddeningly, until with a sudden uncontrollable groan, she felt it begin a gentle involuntary jerking into hardness.
In spite of her revulsion toward the depraved act, he, her own uncle, was subjecting her to, she realized he was raising unwanted sensations of desire in her. Her whimpers of humiliation and torment tapered off into deeper moans of forced pleasure. Slyly, his thick finger moved down to the small opening of her vagina and into her. She gasped at the sudden, slick entry, her thighs moving a little further apart and she, couldn't contain the tear of shame that dribbled down the side of her face into her hair. Her heart had begun to pound with a mixture of feelings she was helpless to control. Her armpits and between her legs felt hot and moist.
At first, the finger hurt slightly and she groaned, biting at her lip. Then, it was smoothing around inside her while his thumb played with her clitoris . . . and then, he was moving his great body down in the bed, slipping his other massive hand beneath her buttocks to hold them and push them toward the probing finger.
"Christ, your ass is like hot butter," he wheezed, pressing his face into her soft, white belly, kissing and sucking the resilient flesh into his small wet mouth.
His thumb continued teasing salaciously at her clitoris while his thick finger moved around in circles . . . in and out of her rapidly dilating vagina. Her face was enflamed she knew she would carry this shame to the grave . . . but still, in spite of herself her vaginal passage was moistening . . . Suddenly, a. second thick finger moved into her and she gasped once more. Wetly, they began to slip and pummel the sensitive walls of her cunt, plunging deeper and deeper through the still tight ring of flesh and into the cavity; she groaned and her legs strained away, but he pushed her buttocks up, keeping a tight hold on them as he persisted in his penetration.
"You're getting excited," he said to her. "You're beginning to like it, eh? Feels good . . . even though it's me doing it . . ."
Laurie bit silently at her lower lip. God, it did . . . it did feel good! And there was some perverse thrill in the shame of being treated this way by this horrible monstrosity . . . her own uncle. His thumb tweaked her clitoris unmercifully and she had to fight down the urge to tense and untense her legs in tempo with the maddening massaging. She felt her legs slithering wider and wider apart against the linen of the bed, opening her tormented cuntal split further to his perverted assault.
"That's it, Baby," he panted "Open your sweet cunt all the way to me. Like that . . . yeah . . . that's a good girl. You never believed your old uncle could bring you such pleasure, eh? Did you? Now, tell the truth . . . did you?"
Oh God . . . she was fast losing all sense of control. She tried to contain herself, not answering him, endeavoring to hold back the short telltale breaths of her heaving breasts and stomach, but it was useless. Her vagina tingled excitedly and her clitoris was a throbbing delight. Her buttocks began to strain together on the hand that was under them, her thighs to jackknife and squirm. Little moans began to emit unwanted from her lips and her mouth opened in harmony with her vagina. He continued to mouth lewd words at her, adding to her desire, and she was too far gone to fight against it.
"Christ, you're wet," he hissed, poking his finger between her relaxed buttocks cupped in his hand. She felt it worming its way up into her anus . . . first knuckle joint, then the second. She didn't care, not anymore. The pain seemed to double the debasing perversity of her pleasure. It was as if a penis was moving into her there, a fat short prick . . . moving upward into her rectum, sending more and wilder sensations to course through her desire racked body. "Shit!" he gasped. "I can't stand it any more. Get up on top of me . . . over my face. Now! I've got to eat that sweet, tight pussy, Baby. I've got to . . .!"
His fingers slipped out of her cunt with a wet sucking noise and he moved up in the bed, rolling to his back.
Laurie hardly knew what she was doing . . . only responded to his orders. Subconsciously, she climbed atop the mountain of flesh as his hands clasped at her waist to manipulate her body with ease to where he wanted it and on her knees she spread her thighs on either side of his head so that the open fissure of her moist, pink cunt hovered a fraction of an inch above his mouth. She felt his hands move down over her hips to the full, rounded cheeks of her bottom and clutch them; one in each hand . . . and then his tongue shot into her wide-spread slit in furious exploration.
She moaned aloud as he licked up through the moist, raw flesh, convulsing at the sudden shocking touch of his tongue tip with the tiny throbbing bud of her clitoris . . . only to descend again and thrust its full length into the warm sensitive depths o� her vagina.
"Oooohhh," she moaned, her buttocks twitching and jerking in his hands as he levered her crotch against his face and she wound her hands in his thinning hair to keep herself from swooning.
She gaped down between her large, firm breasts at the ogre-like head moving up and down, in and out, in depraved ritual between her soft white thighs as the maddening, electrifying jolts of sensation screamed through her. She sensed her own hands ungovernably pulling the bloated head tighter into her loins. The tongue smoothed into her, swirling against the tingling vaginal walls, then out again and up the length of her slit to her clitoris, encircling it . . . twitting it, until his lips closed over it and he sucked the soft wet flesh into his mouth, his teeth worrying the tiny bud gently, sending all kinds of galvanic, erotic messages through her body.
She strained against him, lewd waves of utterly depraved excitement completely engulfing her. The undeniable pressure had begun to build inside her. She watched, mesmerized as he labored down between her legs, his mouth and tongue licking and sucking hungrily at the open split of her moist, pink cunt, the lewd wet slurping sounds causing the mounting force building inside her to move toward its pinpointed apex with every passing second.
She was going to come . . . any moment now! Yes . . . yesss . . . any . . .
He stopped!
"Oh God no, don't stop now!" she begged. "Please . . . just a little more, Uncle Julian . . .?"
His strength amazed her as he lifted her off him like a baby, roughly twisting her around in mid air until she was on her stomach, draped over the almost inhuman tower of his bulging middle like a child atop a haystack. He had pulled open his robe and her soft nakedness sunk into the oozing putty-like grayish flab of his flesh with her head pointed at his feet, her face above his crotch, the sudden sight of his almost hairless, fat-hidden genitals sending waves of helpless revulsion through her.
"Oh God . . . no . . . no please . . . not that!" she pleaded, clutching her eyes shut tight and shaking her head, her long hair flailing wildly about her shoulders.
"Suck it!" he barked. "Godamn you, suck it!
You're not too good for it anymore! You hear? Suck it!"
He could no longer reach her cunt with his mouth or tongue for her bottom lay exposed to him half way down the hill of his belly, her legs draped over on either side of him. Instead, he plunged his finger up into the spread hairlined lips, sinking it deep up into her passage to begin its taunting swirling motions once more, moving in and out simultaneously as with the other hand he first reached under to massage her clitoris until the uncontrollable moans and purls of abandon overcame her again, then as he continued to pummel her cunt with the one hand, the other he put to use between the white round moons of her ass, pressing a fat middle finger into the tiny puckered hole of her pink anus until it was completely buried in the warm rubbery depths.
Laurie couldn't control herself; her body began to squirm and writhe on top of his, her buttocks and loins twisting wildly to the marvelous ravaging of his fingers. And then, she had one more coherent thought of the deplorable, vile and terrible thing she was doing and letting him do to her before she seemed to lose all sense of reason once more. The growing pressure in her naked loins was intense. Her hips were forcing her genitals back onto the fingers working quickly and firmly in her vagina and anus. She was lost . . . lost! No longer any shame . . . only an overpowering desire to reach that point . . .
"Godamn you, suck me or I'll stop! You hear, I'll stop!" she heard him snarl at her.
"No . . . no, don't stop . . . please, don't stop," she begged once more. "I'll do it . . . Oh God . . ."
Slowly, she opened her eyes and the sight of his short fleshy instrument nearly lost in the rolls of fat, sickened her. It couldn't be five inches long she found herself speculating dazedly. She took it in her hand and the angry red knob seemed to squirt from the uncircumcised foreskin as he lifted his pelvis up toward her face. Continuous spiraling bliss permeated her own loins, momentarily making any degradation bearable, even perversely desirable. Again, she blinded herself, opened her lips and sucked it into her mouth, ignoring the delicate senses of taste and smell. She heard him groan and felt the thick rod of flesh ramming upward between her soft moist lips into the wet saliva of her mouth. She could feel the spongy bluntness of the head sliding up the length of her tongue, while behind his thick fingers raced excitedly in and out of her cunt and tightly clenching rectum.
The Judge began to undulate his massive pelvis, slipping the short fat prick in and out of her lips, never quite withdrawing, but leaving the hot, swollen head a half-inch inside the warm, wet cavern of her mouth. Laurie held her eyes tightly closed to block out the nauseating sight of the naked flab surrounding the thick rod of flesh sawing mercilessly into her contorted face. Moisture filled her mouth, puffing her cheeks wide as he shoved upward ramming the shaft to her very throat, keeping pace with his fingers fucking ceaselessly into her dual passages from behind.
Julian Reed stared with lewd delight at the sweat glistening body of his hopelessly aroused niece, squirming and writhing salaciously on top of him to the drubbing of his skewering fingers buried in her steaming wet cunt and the soft warm flesh of her tight, nibbling anus, his cock enveloped in the hot, moist cavern of her sucking mouth. He timed the thrusting of his fingers to that of her pelvis, and suddenly he realized that she was taking more and more of his prick between her tender clasping lips as she became accustomed to the fleshy presence.
Again, Laurie felt the rising tide deep in her quivering belly. The very degradation of the incestuous act, her obscene position and the debasing ravishment she had subjected herself to, caused tiny ripples of weird and perverse sensations to tingle at the nerve ends of her flesh. She found herself licking and sucking voraciously at the hardened cock imbedded between her tightly clasped lips, her mouth slimy from the mixture of his lubricating fluid and her own saliva. She sucked furiously to bring him to climax as she felt her own insides erupting in great spasmodic tongues of flame, licking through her veins in a never ending torrent of building pressure. It suddenly burst and she groaned around the thrusting cock in her mouth, her orgasm flooding in wild sensual waves of cum around the thrusting finger in her cunt,. seeping in warm rivulets out of the vagina lips clasped around it to bathe his hand and run down the insides of her quivering thighs. It was indescribable rapture and the whole of her crotch felt wet and excited beyond belief. Tears of subconscious joy rolled from her eyes. . .
Simultaneously, she felt his loins give a lurch upward against her face, and he groaned a soul searing grunt as suddenly he flooded her mouth with his hot, thick cum, spurting wildly down her throat in vast gushes. She gulped automatically, swallowing the sweet, pungent liquid hungrily in her effort to satiate the still abandoned feeling of degradation that continued to overwhelm her. There was nothing else in the world except the steaming throb of her wet passage behind and the spewing, incestuous cock in her mouth. She swallowed obscenely in the perverse masochistic pleasure of subjugation to the horrible man who was her uncle, jerking upward into her face.
When it was over and she still lay atop of him in what she thought must present the vilest of obscene sights to behold, she couldn't yet contain the escaping mewls and purls emitting from her own self as she nibbled gently at the sticky, deflated cock in her mouth. And then he was caressing the round smooth mounds of her buttocks and stroking her thighs affectionately.
"It's all right, Baby," he sighed. "It's all right . . . No one will ever know . . . just you and me . . ."
She let his prick slip from her mouth, a thin string of semen following it away. Then, she rolled off him . . . like sliding down a great massive hill. She lay a moment, panting in sheer exhaustion. Then, she sat up and swung her feet to the floor, her back to him.
"You hear, Baby?" he repeated. "No one will ever know. It's our secret . . ."
He tried to touch her and she stood immediately moving out of his reach. She didn't look at him as she went to her clothes. Finally, she said: "I'll know . . . I'll always know . . . and that's enough shame to last a lifetime . . ."
Chapter Nine
If there was any feeling of guilt ever in his soul, Phillip felt it now. He moved around the room mechanically, quickly, paying as little attention to Laurie's prostrate form stretched across the bed as possible. He slipped into his shirt, punctured the cufflinks, then searched for the right tie.
"You sure you won't come with me?" he said.
Laurie didn't answer. She lay in her robe. Since she'd come back from Uncle Julian's, she'd lain this way . . . across the bed on her stomach . . . silent.
"There'll be a party, you know . . . at the Colemans. It'll be late . . . you ought to come along," he said, not really meaning the invitation. Tonight, when it was all done, he'd get out of her life . . . he had no right in it. He stole a glance at her voluptuous form covered by the robe she wore. God, she was lovely. He thought of Dianne and he seemed to melt inside. He loved her! Yes, he did! He loved her! "Well, Laurie? Going with me?"
His wife raised her face, laying it upon her arm. "So . . . Mark Coleman's been nominated, eh?"
"Surprise, all right, Everyone expected the old boy to back Bryon Acker. I don't. know . . . something must've happened. Inner politics, girl, things we know nothing of . . . So . . . we support the nominee of the party, Mark Coleman . . he'll be the next governor, you know."
Laurie thought for a moment. "No, he won't," she said.
"What?"
"He won't. No . . . he won't. be the next governor, Phillip," she repeated calmly.
Phillip laughed. "Look . . . why don't you come along with me to the party. Pay tribute, so's to speak . . ."
"You pay tribute, Darling," she interrupted him, I've paid all I intend to pay."
He was facing the mirror, knotting his tie. He stopped, watching her in the glass. "What's that supposed to mean?" he said.
She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, feeling no need to answer him. In the last few hours she had become quite resigned to the brutal cruelties of life. One couldn't continue to be exposed, she'd decided, without developing some callouses. Once in those few hours, she had concluded that she would tell him everything, pour her heart out to him, bare her soul and rid herself of her wicked burden of conscience, even beg his forgiveness, but that, too, had passed. Instead, had come realization that confession was only good for the soul when one's confessor was sympathetic. And he too, had used her. As yet, she wasn't certain to what extent, and she wasn't sure that she really wanted to know, but the fact remained that he had. Still, she loved him . . .
"You're being damned awful mysterious," he said, interrupting her thoughts. He slipped on his coat and walked to the bed to stand over her. "Why won't you come along?"
She looked up at him. "Because you don't want me, Phillip."
Her statement jarred him. His mouth fell a little agape. "T-that's a hell of a thing to say," he said.
"It's a hell of a way to feel," she replied levelly.
"Damnit," he blurted, his face crimsoning lightly. "I'm beginning to think I understand you less everyday, Laurie."
"Yes . . ." She nodded. "I agree . . ." She watched him awkwardly struggle for words. He was angry and confused. She felt there was something he wanted to say but couldn't.
"Oh . . . oh . . . to hell with it . . . and you, too!" he spat, swung on his heels and walked out with a healthy slam of the door.
Laurie remained motionless on the bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling, her mind suddenly even empty of thought. She couldn't cry anymore. She was devoid of any feeling. God, what was to become of her? She felt so desperately alone . . . but for some unknown reason she was not frightened. It was as if, suddenly, she had come of age . . . passed beyond that milepost that separated helpless, dependent femininity from capable, cunnning womanhood. She found that she was smiling to herself . . . a woman's cold, calculating smile . . . a wry expression in effect. A little chill passed over her at her own sudden apathy.
She rose from the bed and walked to the bottle of bourbon that sat on the dresser. She poured into a water glass an inch or so of the amber colored liquid and raised it to her lips. One swallow consumed half of it and she felt it burn in her mouth and throat and finally in her belly, its warming effects quickly spreading through her. She stared at herself in the mirror, lifting the glass once more.
Thoughts of Jack and Beth Tierney frittered through her mind for no apparent reason, this followed by more of her and Phillip's lovely home . . . barbecues in the backyard . . . midnight swims in their neighbors' pool . . . God, how remote and unrealistic all of that seemed now . . . how long, long ago, yet, it was only two days past . . . wasn't it? She'd been so certain that these three days were going to be the happiest in her life to date . . . She shook her head in disbelief. Was it possible? Had all of these horrible things truly happened to her?
Once more, a chilling sensation caused her to shudder. She poured again into the glass and drank the whiskey down. It burned less the second time and she was beginning to feel better, less taut within. She poured yet a third and sipped at that, walking to a chair and curling into it.
She supposed the Coleman party would be quite a victory celebration . . . undoubtedly with few inhibitions, judging by what she'd already come to know of the Senator and his charming wife. Phillip would be quite free to follow Dianne off into bed somewhere without his millstone wife hanging around his neck . . . not that her presence seemed to make a great difference; it hadn't last night, anyway. And the good Senator, it seemed, could care less who his wife was tumbling . . . Damn his soul, she owed him plenty for what he did to her and let be done to her last night . . . then, using those filthy pictures to blackmail Uncle Julian. Momentarily, she wondered about the pictures and what would be done with them. She thought of the possibility of them falling into Phillip's hands:and was surprised at the feeling of indifference that possessed her. God, was it possible that she had undergone such a mortal change. Her very coldness of heart startled her.
Dear Uncle Julian had done that . . . destroyed the last vestige of clinging, vineish little girlism she possessed . . . taught her in essence that the world was a cruel, filthy place, and that survival was most definitely of the fittest . . .
"Damn them! God damn them all!" she cursed aloud, then gulped away her drink. Suddenly, she burst from her chair. She wasn't about to sit around here and rot. To thievery hell and damnation with that! She would dress; she would go out . . . she might even pick up a man and let him fuck her silly! Yes, by God! A new day had dawned in the life of Laurie Gates! The wraps were coming off! It was time that she showed them all the capabilities of this little girl! And that was exactly what she intended to do!
* * *
Laurie was already a little tight when she walked into the bar off the lobby of the Ambassador Hotel. She'd had another straight bourbon, stiffer than the others, while she dressed. There'd been no actual goal in mind when she left their suite, descended in the elevator to the lobby, and then the little neon sign reading "Embassy Room" had caught her eye. It seemed as good of place as any to start.
She went in and slipped onto a stool at the end of the bar. The room was dimly lighted, carpeted, plush and cozy, occupied mostly by men, probably conventioneers, she thought, but there were women, too, all paired off . . . none alone like herself. She felt devilishly wild and knew that male eyes were following her. Wouldn't it be something if the nice barman. asked her for her ID to prove her age? She was in violation, of course, being in there and under twenty-one, but it wasn't bothering her. She knew that she looked at least twenty-three or four. She felt quite confident and made a point of letting her voluptuously curved buttocks hang over the rim of the cushioned stool like a pouting lip.
The barman, young himself, in his black tie and red, short jacket, smiled at her.
"What would you like, Miss?"
"Bourbon soda . . . lots of ice, please."
She was sorry she hadn't taken the last stool in the corner. It would've given her command of the room. Presently, she was trying to utilize the back-bar mirror to scan the male faces, but it wasn't a very effective device with the array of bottles and shelving blocking it. She would have to think of some other method if she was to be successful in this escapade, she decided; either another approach or depend entirely on male aggressiveness. She worked her buttocks back a little further on the stool.
A flash of masculine white teeth in the semi darkness caught her eye in the mirror. They were handsome teeth, seemingly set in a handsome face, but she couldn't be sure with the lighting. Anyway, the face was studying her, eyes locked on her back . . . undoubtedly her behind and legs. She sensed a little shiver of pleasure. It was almost a familiar face, she thought, engaged in conversation with a group of men at a booth . . . but playing almost continual attention to her now. She lifted her drink and sipped. If only she dared turn around . . . smile perhaps . . . God, she didn't have to . . . he was getting to his feet . . . coming toward her now . . . Lord, it was Bryon Acker!
"Mrs. Gates. . . " he said, moving between her and the next stool to stand, smiling. "How come you're not at the victory celebration?"
"Nothing to celebrate, Mr. Acker," she said, with a pleasant smile of her own. She had turned toward him, was looking directly into his eyes . . . nice dark-eyes, she thought . . . actually, a handsome man in. a rugged, outdoorsy way, attractive grey temples. clean smile . . .she'd never noticed before.
"You're not a Coleman supporter then?"
"I'm not politically minded I'm afraid," she replied easily. He was still smiling, his eyes on her lips, reminding her that the soft indirect lighting would be playing there, causing an attractive jewel like glitter against the thin layer of lip rouge. She wet them tantalizingly with the tip of her small tongue.
"That sounds strange coming from one of a political family," he said, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "I'm sure your husband and uncle are not in accord with you."
"You'd be quite right, Mr. Acker," said Laurie, tilting her head provocatively. "But then, I suddenly find that my husband and uncle are in accord with me on very few, if, any things."
"Oh? And that's why you're here . . . all alone?"
"It is."
"Family squabble?"
Laurie shrugged pretty shoulders. "It's not important," she said. "Why don't you join me in a drink?"
He nodded. "I'd like that," he said, slipping up onto the vacant stool beside her. "I've already had too much, but how can I resist such a charming invitation? Have you had dinner?"
"No . . . but I don't believe I want any," she said, letting her eyes play over his handsome face. "I think I'm too full of wildness tonight to waste time eating."
"Hmmmm, so you've been drinking, too."
"A little . . . but I feel wonderfully mellow . . . How do you feel?"
"Better . . . since I've seen and talked to you," he replied, gazing levelly at her.
Laurie experienced another pleasant little tingle rippling through her, and then a second sensation of compassion for this man's feelings at what they had done to him. God, it suddenly occurred to her, what would he think of her if he knew the part she'd unwittingly played in losing the nomination for him? Yet, Uncle Julian had said he would stop the Colemans, but he hadn't . . . still, she couldn't believe he'd given up so easily . . . not Uncle Julian.
"I-I know how you must feel, Mr. Acker . . ." she started to console him and he interrupted.
"Bryon," he said. "Let's drop the Mr. and Mrs. bit. Bryon and . . .?"
"Laurie."
"Laurie," he repeated. "Rolls nicely off the tongue . . . As for how I feel . . . one must learn to lose gracefully . . . but it's harder than hell when you're certain you've been swindled, Laurie."
She couldn't resist touching his hand in consolation, placing her small soft one on top of his larger, tanned, muscular one. "Don't give up, Bryon," she said softly, her eyes searching his deeply. "I have a feeling that it's all going to work out to your advantage before it's over."
He grinned. "That sounds real palatable," he said. "Does that feeling somehow include you in the picture?"
Laurie felt the warmth creeping into her face. She smiled, her excitement obvious. "It might," she said softly. "I-I think it could."
She could hear his breathing even above the hum and hustle in the room, see the glint of lust flicker briefly in his dark eyes.
"Let's get out of here," he said huskily. "Where would you like to go?"
"The party . . . at the Coleman's . . . if you'll take me," she said, realizing for the first time that she wanted to flaunt this man in front of her husband, in front of all of them before she set their world on its cockeyed tail.
Byron Acker smiled broadly. "All right," he said, slipping from the stool. "It sounds like one hell of a wild idea to me. I'm game if you are."
Laurie laughed and he helped her off to her feet. She ran her arm through his possessively. "Come on, Darling," she said gaily. "Let's have a ball tonight."
In his car, he gathered her into his arms and kissed her, smoothing his big hand over her back and down to her round full buttocks as he pulled her tight to him. She slipped her tiny tongue into the warmth of his mouth and then he did the same to her while she sucked gently on it. His hand moved to her breast to caress and stroke there and with her own she felt down between them, her nails tracing the length of his already erect penis.
"Christ," he gasped. "I'm going to fuck you . . . you know that, don't you?"
"Oh yes, Darling . . . I want you to . . . but the Coleman's first . . .?"
"All right . . . the Coleman's first. I think I can wait that long . . . but don't be surprised if I screw you right in the middle of their floor."
Laurie giggled into his mouth. "Wonderful! I think I'd love that."
"Y-You little hot-pants imp, you," he rasped, kissing her once more. Then, he forced himself away from her and started the engine. "Come on, let's go blow the lid off their godamned party!"
Chapter Ten
Phillip had never seen anything like it before. It no longer fell under the label of victory celebration; it was an out and out Bacchanalia. A rather plumpish woman had climbed onto a table in the center of the room and had stripped naked except for garter-belt, stockings and heels. Drunkenly, she was attempting to dance, the heavy, fleshy pendulums of her brown tipped breasts swaying and jouncing with her contortions, the layered, unsmooth chunkiness of her buttocks and thighs rippling and jostling unappetizingly. More drunken couples lay on the floor at her feet, laughing and clapping their hands in unison rhythm as she tried to bump and grind to their tempo. Vulgarly, she increased her efforts, spurred on by her audience, obscenely spreading her legs as she thrust her broad, black, hairy bushed pelvis in lewd, suggestive stabs, the wide aperture splitting her crotch as visible and repulsive to him as her gaping mouth. Someone had handed her a man's straw hat with a paper band around it that read" "Coleman For Governor" and she donned that.
Christ, he thought, what in hell am I doing here? Victory celebration? God, it was deteriorating into a complete debauchery! He was no prude, but there were limits. He stood near the doorway staring at the sprawled couples around the room and on the floor. Some were locked in lewd embraces, hands disappearing under skirts and inside the fronts of trousers. The next steps, he supposed, were to the bedrooms . . . and no one seemed to be with his or her own wife or husband . . . A hand touched his arm and he jumped, startled. It was Dianne, smiling.
"A real gem, isn't she? Carla Morse, the County Attorney's wife," Dianne said, shaking her head. "Lord, if I had a body like that I'd never show it to anyone."
"It's disgusting," said Phillip. "Where's Mark? Does he sanction this sort of thing?"
"Ooooh, don't get all worked up, Darling," she teased. "They're just blowing off a little steam after working so hard for the cause. No harm done; besides, it's these little episodes that help me keep them in line whenever they get goody-goody reformation ideas. I show them a few pictures of themselves taken during their less inhibited moments. It work wonders, Darling."
Phillip stared at her. Her lovely face was widened in smile. He said: "Where's Mark? I can't believe that he agrees with this sort . . ."
"Mark agrees with what I tell him to agree with, Lover," she answered him, a certain iciness creeping into her tone and eyes. "Anyway," she shrugged, "He's drunk as usual. You'll find him passed out in the study."
"Drunk?"
"Quite." After a moment, her expression warmed again. She caught at his hand. "Now, come with me. Let's get away from this proletarian rabble for a little quiet chat and session of our own, Darling. I'm beginning to feel the need for some love and affection, aren't you?"
"I-I don't know what I feel . . . after seeing this miserable exhibition," he said, his brow furrowed. Thoughts of Laurie came to mind, followed immediately by a brief interval of confused shame. Cripes, did he know what he was doing, or didn't he?
"Come along . . . we'll have a drink," Dianne said, leading him off toward the stairway and second floor. "I think we both need it."
He let her guide him to her bedroom. Once inside the closed door she put her arms around his neck and pressed close to him eagerly. Her pelvis, thighs, breasts ground hotly into him: she kissed him with open mouth. It was all he needed. He drew her to him and his lips came moistly down on hers, drawing them into his mouth and then crushing them back against her teeth. He held it long and hard, abruptly feeling the spasmodic jerk where his loins pressed into the soft flesh of her belly. Already, his prick was erect and wanting. Fuck, he thought, what else mattered, anyway?
She reached down between their bodies and stroked his trousers covered rod lustfully. " Mmmmm," she whispered. "It feels nice and hard and beautiful tonight, Lover I . . . I think I'm going to suck it first . . . yes, as a matter of fact, I'm certain of it. Come, let's get our clothes off . . . or would you rather have that drink instead?"
She was teasing him. He crushed her to him and kissed her again, the feel of her voluptuous body erotically against his own aiding his answers.
"To hell with the drink," he said, raspily. "I like your other idea better."
"You mean, the one where I take your delicious cock in my mouth and suck the love juice right out of it?" she whispered, her breath hot in his face.
"Christ!" he gasped, his prick beginning to jerk achingly inside his imprisoning shorts. "Get those godamned clothes off!" And he began to pull at his own.
* * *
The leased Coleman house was large enough to support a four-car garage and ample parking area around it. Byron Acker found a place there and switched off the lights and engine. In the darkness, Laurie looked over at him; she could make out only his outline. He was moving toward her across the seat. She waited receptively, anticipating. He drew her gently to him and kissed her. Little sparkles of pleasure trickled through her. His was not the first alien kiss she had ever known, but she couldn't recall ever desiring one more . . . the very excitement of its infidelity causing her to tremble.
Once more, his big hands moved caressingly over her breasts and buttocks and thighs. Boldly, she traced the rigidness of his prick with her fingers, shivering at its length and thickness, and she felt the sudden tensing in her breasts as the nipples were smashed tight against his chest.
"God, . . . I can't wait, Baby . . . . I've got to fuck you!" he hissed, and suddenly she felt his hand moving beneath her dress between her thighs, even upward beyond the tops of her nylons, over the soft hot flesh of her creamy smooth inner thighs. She couldn't . . . didn't want to stop him. Slowly, she spread open to his exploring hand. She felt its gentle warmth pressure against the sheerness of her panties at the delicately pouting mound, lurching spasmodically at the contact. She lay back into the corner of the seat, pulling him atop of her.
"Christ!" he gasped. "Is it all right, Baby? Please . . . I don't want to do anything wrong . . ."
"Wrong. . .? Darling . . . ," she whispered, taking his face between her hands and kissing his mouth with a warm, wet, open lips. "Y-You couldn't do anything wrong to me tonight."
"God Almighty," he groaned.
She felt his hands, both of them now, moving over her hips in search of the waistband of her panties. Everything . . . all, was being done in unbroken continuity; she felt like a young girl being seduced for the first time by her one true love. She was wild with the pleasurable excitement of it, knowing that she would die if he ever stopped now. She whimpered and lifted her buttocks to help him as he rolled the snug little bikini briefs down over her hips and along her thighs until she was free of them. She spread her legs wider and he slithered half onto the seat and floor between them. His mouth sought hers, his tongue probing wetly between her lips; she sucked on it gently, letting her body flow upward into his in the darkness.
And then, he was kissing her eyes and nose and ears and neck, gradually moving down away from her toward the naked heat smothering her loins spread so receptively before him, her dress bunched around her waist, her belly tingling with the thought of the rapture to come. She moaned aloud as his hands slid beneath her buttocks and his mouth kissed and sucked at the soft smooth flesh of her belly . . . ever moving downward . . . into the light entanglement of her silken, pubic hair. Tenderly, he nipped and lewd sensations bathed her.
In his two hands he held the magnificent cheeks of her full rounded buttocks. His thumbs curled down between her legs and lay on either side of the soft hairlined flanges of her cunt. God, how he wished he could visualize with seeing eye this delectable sight. She moaned in anticipation . . . Christ, she was so young and lovely . . . taut, smooth and warm . . . he was going to go out of his mind if he didn't take her soon.
Tenderly, he pressed her thighs wide, wide apart and Laurie felt him haunching there; her breath shortened until she whined as she sensed his skilled fingers spreading the fleshy, light hair-covered lips of her vagina open, and the cool air seeped in against her there. She waited breathlessly until his tongue suddenly flicked into her, the wet tip licking teasingly against the tiny bud of her clitoris, causing it to throb wildly. She felt his thumbs lowering and then he pressed the opening of her vagina wide apart; once more she held her breath while his tongue trailed down through the moist throbbing slit . . . and suddenly shot into the hot, raw flesh of her pussy.
Laurie squirmed uncontrollably at the sudden, wet contact, automatically reaching down to run her hands through his hair, locking behind his head to pull his face hard into her crotch. She felt his tongue rotating maddeningly inside her and she moaned and cooed aloud to him.
"Oooohhhh . . . it's beautiful, Darling . . . beautiful. Harder, my precious. Do it harder for me!"
"No," he said abruptly, raising his head. "All of that's later. I only wanted you to know what it means to me . . . how much I love it . . . and you, tonight anyway."
"Ooohhh . . . yes, Darling," she gasped. "I understand. Tonight's our night, isn't' it? Yes . . . yes . . . let's not do anything to spoil it. That was beautiful, Lover. But now . . . come up here and fuck me. "Hurry!"
He whimpered, himself, and moved up over her on the car seat, loosening his pants and freeing his rock-hard prick. He crawled above her face and kissed her. She tasted, her own self on his lips and tongue, causing further sensations of delight to spiral through her.
"Christ," he said. "You're so -young . . . so goddamned young. Just a child . . . beautiful and delicious."
"I'm your child tonight, Bryon . . . young, excited, and wanting to learn about love," she answered truthfully.
"You have a husband," he hissed.
"Not really . . . just a boy who's all involved now. Part of this is for him . . . I think. Tonight, before it's all over, we'll know . . ."
"It's all insane," Byron said. "You know I have a wife and children back in Rio Lado. You understand that, don't you?"
"I understand even more than that . . . . even more than you know, Byron, Darling," Laurie whispered to him. "You'll be the next governor of this state . . . please believe me. I know what I'm saying. Before this night's over, it'll be settled . . . I'm certain of it. But right now, Darling . . . love me, will you?"
"Oh shit!" he blurted, crawling up over her.
God, she wanted it so bad . . . and then it came . . . the smooth round head probing, slipping up between the spread lips of her hungry vagina . . . up and down . . . up and down . . . separating entangled hair, insinuating, seating itself . . . until it slowly, delectably, moved into her . . . up and up and up . . . almost never ending . . . filling her to enchanting capacity.
Momentarily, he rocked above her, allowing her to acclimate to his presence inside her palpitating cunt; he used short, baby strokes at first, and then her body reacted of its own volition. Slowly, as he increased his pace and the length of his stroke, Laurie sensed her whole being responding willingly and she squirmed and writhed beneath him.
"Darling," she rasped once more. "Oh Darling!" She lost herself in the increasing long, raking, pistoning movements of his plunging cock . . . ever, ever digging into her as if he were trying to bury the lower half of himself inside her. Dear mercy, her vagina seemed all-consuming, incredibly canaverous and naked, the pressure already rising to the boiling point, a pinnacle she couldn't wait to achieve.
"Fuck!" he blurted. "It's too much . . . too much! My balls'll burst!"
"My sweet . . . my lover . . . my darling," she whimpered in agony, and then she convulsed beneath him, clinging to him as if she were in the middle of the ocean going down for the third time, crashing her crotch up against his driving rod of iron flesh . . . the flood sweeping over her, up from her loins and thighs toward her breasts in a mad, mad release, the excruciating, agony of bliss blowing the breath from her like a gigantic fist striking her in the belly. She screamed.
Once, twice, three times, she gave forth her cries of animal ecstasy, jerking convulsively under him for a long time while his gasps grew hoarser and hoarser, his strokes slower and more forceful, until he breathed one, long low exclamation and, his prick penetrated her womb and she clasped her arms around him passionately, holding him while he shot a stream of hot, white sperm into her eagerly, anticipating and receptive loins.
They lay for a long while, then, smoked a cigarette before straightening up and going inside.
* * *
Somewhere along the way, unbeknownst to him where or when . . . only that it was positively so . . . Phillip had become obsessed with the ideas that he was playing the puppet. Even as she sucked ravenously at his lust-hardened shaft the thought besieged him, a puppet, like her husband . . . "Mark agrees with what I tell him to agree with . . ." that even his genitals were no longer his own, but completely possessed by her . . . this lovely blonde creature who had bewitched him as long as he could remember. He lay on his back watching her haunched between his spread legs, her long silken hair teasing at his belly and thighs, her pink-tipped hard-nippled breasts swaying and dancing as her head bobbed up and down over him. An uncontrollable chill stiffened his body as he thought of what she was doing, and he watched the elasticity of her lips around the wet, sensitive flesh, feeling the warm moistness of her mouth and tongue . . . her tongue that was laving the underside of the sensitive head of his prick imprisoned beyond her ovaled, sucking lips.
He couldn't contain the occasional groans emitting from deep in his chest, yet even in his ecstasy he suddenly realized that whatever sorcery she had once held him with, the spell was broken, her charisma gone. It struck him as an abrupt awakening, seemingly telegraphing a jolting shock through his whole nervous system. He gaped down at her lust-contorted face with the protruding lips descending nearly the entire length of the wet, glistening staff of his cock, her hands dropping to cup and massage the soft, velvety skin of his hair-covered balls affectionately, while the other pinched gently with thumb and forefinger at the base of the pulsating organ. Then, she began to suck steadily, rhythmically, up and down and with a little twisting motion of her swirling tongue on the upstroke, flicking its tip maddeningly in and around its tiny orifice and causing him to tense his loins and raise his head, her grotesque sucking mouth instigating a feeling of mild revulsion to blend with the sensations of lust she had aroused in him.
He'd been a fool . . . a blind fool! He'd betrayed the love of his beautiful sweet Laurie for this evil, power-hungry bitch! Oh God . . . he hoped it wasn't too late . . . He tried to think, but she'd begun to suck harder, nipping now and then with her small white teeth, and he couldn't contain the grunts of carnal delight rolling from his lips. Suddenly, she slipped her hands beneath his buttocks, cupping his ass-cheeks in her small palms, raising his loins up tighter to her face, her tongue lashing at his prick furiously. A sadistic desire to hurt her, destroy her, suddenly overwhelmed him. He rammed his pelvis up at her face and watched his cock disappear into her throat as she plunged her mouth down onto it acceptingly with a tormenting hum that vibrated to the very depths of his bowels.
His brain whirled in erotic confusion. Vaguely, he'd hoped that she might choke, but she didn't, only the continuing blissful sucking and the rising and falling of her head, the pink ridges of flesh pulling from her mouth as her lips clung possessively to his prick, her tits jouncing, swinging as she labored over him, tiny beads of moisture forming on the sides of her soft, voluptuous body, the hot breaths from her nostrils taunting the hairs of his pelvis as she lowered her head, absorbing his throbbing cock into her throat cannabalistically . . . bobbing up and down, up and down . . . sucking insanely, as if to draw the very marrow from his bones . . . until tiny cyclones of seething pressure began to build in his balls, and he stiffened and thrust his cock up at her driving it even further into her moist, sucking mouth.
"Oh Christ, you bitch!" he blurted viciously. "Suck it, damn you! Harder! Harder!" And he clenched his teeth and drew his lips back savagely . . . because . . . because here it comes! He was going to come right in her whore mouth! He groaned gutturally, his throat and mouth torturously dry as his pumping balls began to force the hot, thick sperm in wild jerking spurts up through the shaft to spew spasmodically from its tip in long white streams, causing her cheeks to bloat and hollow as she swallowed rapidly the thick deluging gushes to keep from choking. He. wound his hands in her hair with brutal force as she continued to suck frantically and he shot his hot semen deep into her hollowing throat, clutching at her head, finally locking his fingers behind it and ramming his squirting prick even further and further into her receptive gullet . . . until at last, he was empty, letting free and falling back while she coughed and gasped to catch her breath . . . still, she continued to suck, but gently now as his member fell limp, deflating in her mouth while she drew and licked the last drop from it.
"That's it," he said, his voice hoarse, raspy from the dryness of his throat. "I-It's all over, Dianne . . . that was the finale . . . the finish . . . the bloody, fucking end."
Slowly, she raised to her knees, brushing her long hair back, her tiny pink tongue flicking out to ensnare a thin string of his sperm that had dribbled from the corner of her mouth. She stared at him blankly. "Wh-What's that supposed to mean?"
He jerked his legs from around her and swung about to sit up on the side of the bed. He didn't look at her. He said: "Exactly what you're afraid it means . . . I'm through . . . leaving . . . checking out, while I've still got a piece of my soul left. . . before you get all the strings attached to my hands and feet the way you almost did to my prick. I've had it, Dianne . . . . woke up, so's to speak. Puppet number two is leaving you."
He might have struck her a blow with his fist, the effects would have been the same. Momentarily, Dianne just knelt there, rotating back on her haunches, her mouth dropping open loosely, her eyes gaping in disbelief. "Y-You're insane," she half whispered. "You don't know what you're saying . . ."
"That's where you're mistaken;" he replied confidently. "For the first goddamned time, I do know what I'm saying. I'm like the drug-user who's finally and triumphantly kicked the habit. I'm cured, Baby, cured of you."
Phillip arose, walking toward his clothes and Dianne came off the bed like a wild, wounded cat. She caught at his arm, her long nails raking his flesh as she tried to spin him around to face her.
"Goddamn you!" she spat. "Just who do you think you are, anyway? Whatever gave you the idea you could walk out on me? You . . . you little two-bit ballot-box stuffer! Nobody . . . but nobody talks to me that way, and especially you." Her face contorted, twisted evilly into a maniacal leer the likes of which he could never have imagined possible. "So . . . you've finally woken up . . . going back to that sweet little bitch you're married to, eh . . .? Well now, let me enlighten you somewhat there, too . . ."
Her almost. insane rage had taken Phillip aback. He hadn't expected her to be overjoyed, but this performance . . . He watched her storm to a. dresser drawer, pull out an envelope and nakedly stomp back toward him, a wicked sneer masking her face. She thrust the envelope at him:
"Brace yourself, Darling," she hissed. "I'm afraid you're in for a shock."
Phillip couldn't believe it! Quickly, he shuffled through the horrible pictures, dwelling only seconds on each, unable to cope with the vile abominations each print reflected up at him. Dear Jesus! It couldn't be true! It couldn't! Not his sweet, shy Laurie . . .! Yet, there she was, naked between two men, her face an expression of raw lust, their pricks fucking into her mouth and cunt . . .!
"I-I can't believe it," he gasped, looking up at her blankly. "Wh-Where . . . how . . .? My God."
"Pretty aren't they, Darling? Never knew that you had such a talented wife, now, did you?"
"I-I just don't understand . . ." Phillip babbled. He walked to a chair and sat down in it heavily, hardly aware of his nakedness any longer.
Dianne moved to the chair-arm and sat down beside him. She slipped an arm around his neck and drew his head against her firm naked breast.
"Don't you see, Darling?" she half-whispered. "It's you and me all of the way. We belong to each other and always have. Together, we can go on to great things . . . no limit, my sweet. I can make you governor one day, maybe even President."
Phillip sat in stunned silence, barely hearing her words. His world had surely and utterly collapsed. His own sweet, beautiful Laurie . . . Dear God . . . he loved her . . . loved her!
"I'm pregnant, Phillip . . . with your child," Dianne said softly. "'We must plan for that now."
Those words filtered through to him . . . registered. He withdrew his face from her grasp and looked up at her. Slowly, it dawned upon him how well she had set her traps, how much she intended holding him. Then, he smiled . . . until finally, he laughed at her.
"So, you're pregnant . . . and with my child, eh?" he spoke softly.
"It would be . . . if it were possible, Dianne," he said evenly, still smiling, but the expression .slowly fading. "You see, I can't father any children . . . the unfortunate result of the operation on my lung. Remember, dear? Months of antibiotics and other medication had its reaction. I'm as sterile as a hospital laboratory. No . . . it seems as if you'll have to tag someone else for the job . . . maybe even your husband, eh?"
Dianne stared at him for a long moment, an obvious feeling of disaster slowly taking hold of her. "Y-You're lying."
Phillip stood. "Well, that should be easy to establish . . . if necessary," he said, smiling.
She hadn't moved, only continued to gaze blankly at him. "Dear God . . . dear God! It can't be Mark's. It just can't be!"
"Well . . . you'd know best about that," Phillip shrugged. "I hope for your sake you've kept some kind of record . . ."
"My God! It can't be Mark's! Don't you understand?" she wailed, her hands suddenly clutching at her face, "Oh no, no, no, no . . ."
"Oh, I shouldn't think it would be quite that bad," he said as he pulled on his shorts. "Wives have children by their husbands every day . . ."
"Shut up!" she screamed, leaping to her feet, tears streaming down her cheeks. "My God . . . I don't want to have an imbecile! You understand? I'd kill myself first!"
"What the hell are you talking about . . . an imbecile? Are you out of your . . .?"
"Listen to me! Mark's . . . grandfather and grandmother . . . were brother and sister!" she managed, once more covering her face and dropping into the chair where he had sat. "Now . . . now, do you understand?"
Phillip didn't answer. He merely stared at her. There was nothing to say, absolutely nothing that he could do . . . only get out of there, find Laurie . . . and crawl on his knees to her. Maybe . . . Oh God, just maybe, she would forgive him for what he was, and for what he had driven her to.
Chapter Eleven
Laurie clung tightly to the arm of Byron Acker. She had never before witnessed an all out sex orgy, but the City Councilman had; he belonged to the swap-circle of the Rio Lado Country Club. She had never realized that the sight of other couples engaged in lewd sex could set her off so. Their own little escapade in the car, although temporarily fulfilling, had hardly sated her aroused passion, and now as they moved through the house looking for Phillip, stumbling onto pairs and trios and groups involved in every form of carnal pleasure, she sensed a decided rekindling in her loins.
They found Mark Coleman naked, drunk and passed out on the floor of the study, Tonya Faro in similar condition beside him, his limp penis in her hand and just inches from her shining, semen smeared lips. She stirred, made a little groan, while Byron built Laurie and himself a drink at the small bar; then he kissed his young companion, holding her tight to him, running his hands up beneath her dress to cup her bare buttocks, her panties still on the front seat of his automobile.
"Damn!" he hissed against her mouth. "I'm just going to have to fuck you again, little girl."
"Yes . . . yes . . . but not yet," she whispered, pressing her pelvis and thighs tight against the rigidity of his swollen organ inside his trousers. "I've got to find Phillip first. I've got to know for sure what's between Dianne Coleman and him . . ."
"I'll wager it's his prick," Byron punned.
"That's what I have to be certain of," she said, blushing, biting at her full lower lip. "You understand, don't you, Byron?"
"Of course, Baby . . . but do you think you can take it?"
It seemed to Laurie by all that was normal she should be heartbroken, but she wasn't and knew that regardless of what she learned or saw now, she wouldn't be. Instead, she found herself smiling eagerly at her escort. "Come on," she urged, pulling him by the hand, "I want to see it with my own, eyes."
And she did. Eventually, they found them on the bed of a second-floor room, Phillip on his back naked with Dianne on all fours between his legs, his thick glistening cock disappearing far up into her greedily sucking mouth. Byron had twisted the knob of the door silently, then nodded his head in the affirmative and she'd moved closer to see. Truly, she hadn't been prepared for the shock it gave her, had only guessed that she would be. Instead, the tears had dribbled uncontrollably down her cheeks but then as she continued to watch the beautiful blonde girl's sweating labors while she sucked furiously at Phillip's angry-hard rod, she felt her armpits growing hot and moist and the excitement increasing at the juncture point between her thighs.
"Christ, look at her go!" Byron exclaimed into her ear from behind, his arm around her waist, his hardened phallus insinuated between her buttocks hotly, only the thin material of their clothes separating their incited flesh. "Can you suck a cock like that, Baby"
Laurie sensed her face growing hot at the lewd question, but she knew he hadn't meant it as an insult. "I-I'm not sure . . . but I'll try," she whispered back to him, unconsciously undulating her bottom tightly against his throbbing prick.
"Damn!" he rasped. "Come on . . . I can't take anymore of this!"
"Wait," she said unable yet to fully cope with the confused emotions the spectacle taking place on the bed was causing her. Even though the lewd, wicked act of the voluptuous girl sucking feverishly at Phillip's cock . . . her head bobbing up and down over him . . . the length of his wet shaft disappearing right into her throat between her ovaled, clasped lips until only a fraction of it remained visible at its thick, white base . . . even though this host-inciting sight was causing the blood to race through her veins with sensuous pruriency, there was also rage and hate churning inside her, rage at the thought of the adulterous performance and the way Phillip had duped her; and hate for this blonde bitch who had managed to lure her husband away so easily. And then, above all, there was vengeance! Retribution! Someway, somehow. she had to repay him . . . make him suffer as he had her . . . and in kind! Oh yes, it had to be in kind . . . with her body . . . right before his very eyes: Suddenly, she turned to face Byron Acker as he eased the door closed.
"I want you to do it to me again!" she half whispered, vehemently. "Anything . . . anyway you want . . ."
"Christ!" he gasped. "Come on, let's find a place . . . quick . . ."
"Wait. I want to go back there where we saw those four couples downstairs! I want to join them . . . take on everyone and anyone in the goddamned house, do you hear? All of them!"
For the first time, Byron saw the tears in her eyes. He tried to take her into his arms, but she refused. "Listen, Baby, you don't know what you're saying . . ."
"I goddamn sure do!" she swore him. "And I want you to be positive that Phillip knows and sees. Do you understand me. Byron?"
"Now listen, Honey," he tried again "You're not being reasonable. You don't know what you're saying. Please, let's just you and I . . ."
"Byron! I mean what I'm saying?" she, snapped at, him sharply. "Now, if you want to be first, you better come now, because I'm going downstairs and open up shop. If being a common whore is the secret to getting ahead in this world; then, I'm going to get my share. Now !"
And with that, she spun, away and stormed off. It only took him a second to catch up with her.
* * *
Six men and two women stood around the couple on the blanket in the center of the living room floor. All were naked and the men's excited shafts jutted out from their loins like an assemblage of raised spears. The women gaped. in salacious delight at the beautiful, reddish-blonde haired girl who lay on her back, her round, full, cream-white thighs spread wide in their raised position, ankles kicked over the back of the man fucking into her . . . Byron Acker. Her lovely head flailed from side to aide, tossing the long shoulder-length hair wildly, her eyes closed in her ecstasy as the thwarted candidate's huge, thick cock plunged. in wet, delicious rhythm between the tight, pouting flanges of the sparse hair covered split in her blonde fleecy loins. Suddenly, one of the female onlookers dropped to her knees and chose a prick to suck into her mouth, while the other lowered herself to the floor to watch more closely the delightful penetration of the massive cudgel into the small, moist hole between the young girl's wildly squirming legs.
"Who the hell is she?" someone asked.
"Judge Reed's niece . . . Phillip Gates' wife," replied another, manipulating the heavy outer layer of skin along his own shaft, wild sensations of lust soaring through him.
"Christ . . . she's beautiful!" said the first one. "Look at that ass . . . and those tits. Man, I'm going to have a piece of that."
"You'll take your goddamned turn," barked the second, still massaging his aching prick. "I'm next . . . and when I get through with her, she'll be ready for a long nap."
"That's the fucking trouble with you, Seybor, you let your mouth and ego do all your screwing instead. of your pecker . . . at least, that's what my wife says," number one commented, grinning. "Why don't you just save your energy for the job ahead of you, eh?"
"Go to hell!" spat Seybor, while the others laughed.
The woman who lay on the blanket beside Laurie and Byron was a revived Tonya Faro. She'd left the unconscious drunken form of Mark Coleman for more exciting grounds. She lay, beside the two of them, caressing the swollen nipples of Laurie's heaving breasts. Then, with one hand she reached between Byron's legs to grasp the hot slipperiness of his plunging prick. The heat and thickness of it as it pounded in and out of the young girl's cunt aroused a sensation of liquid fire inside her and she began to run her finger in along side the driving rod of flesh, feeling it slip hotly back and forth against the length of the probing digit.
Laurie was in another world . . . one of sheer bliss, and her body was lifting and jerking, entirely out of control now and her gasps of pleasure were rolling from her lips.
Tonya carefully moved her hand around until she withdrew her finger and put her thumb in its place. It's been a long time since she'd seen a girl gone animal in this fashion. With her free forefinger she edged her way down between the crevice of Laurie's buttocks until she felt the tiny, puckered circle of her working anus.
Laurie's hips squirmed wildly at the touch of Tonya's finger, as if frightened by the thought of what was to come. But gently, Tonya began to slowly insert the tip of her finger into the tight opening, probing almost imperceptibly deeper and deeper into the snug warmth of the tight, rubbery hole. Then, through the thin tissue of hot flesh separating Laurie's cunt and rectum, she was able to feel the furious thrusting of Byron Acker's cock pummeling against the pressing contact of her thumb.
Whatever was going on in her asshole, Laurie wanted it! The mere idea of her debasement beneath this man and in front of all the others was fulfilling her warped desire to hurt her husband. She would show him now and forever the very depths of her vengeance! He'd cry at her feet . . . beg her to forgive him! Oh God, what that finger was doing . . . delving into the tender softness of her rectum . . . and it was being done so gently, so very, very gently. There was no pain, but instead, an erotic sensation of pleasure increasing with the probing depths of the magnificent cock fucking into her.
She couldn't stand it much longer. It was too much! Suddenly, she felt as if she were falling into a great open abyss . . . and the tiny wells in her vagina opened to flood the cock burrowing into her and she screamed and came and screamed and came while Byron hung tight to her and squirted his sperm deep into her belly . . . yet, the fire wouldn't go out and she looked up wantonly at the masculine faces and amassment of rock hard cocks surrounding her. And they came, one after the other, until she lost count and her cunt felt like a numbed, unbelievable passageway into nothingness as in one's and two's and then three's they climbed atop of her to shoot:their sperm into her receptive sanctuary, and she waited and waited, accepting them, sucking some even as she fucked others, absorbing them, feeling their hot, white liquid sperm saturating her lips and loins . . . her inner thighs . . . her very pores drenched in their milky, viscous juices . . . and finally he came and saw, crying out in deep soul-felt anguish.
It had come to pass.
* * *
Phillip stood in the archway, staggering to the right where the jamb itself caught him. He stared in utter disbelief. Byron Acker moved up beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"You love her?" he questioned.
"Oh . . . oh Christ, yes! But what good is that now?" Phillip exclaimed, gaping at the driving muscular buttocks of the man who was furiously fucking into his very own sweet Laurie.
"She's teaching you a lesson, boy. That's all. She loves you, Phil. If. you want her, go take her . . . but do it powerfully. You understand? Powerfully! It's your only hope now."
Phillip turned to him and saw that his eyes were sincere. Byron Acker . . . Christ, he was trying to help. He felt his hands suddenly, unconsciously pulling at his own belt, unloosening it. He began kicking of his clothes, and simultaneously, his mind was filled with what he would do to her. He loved her! Loved her! She had to be made to know what that meant! Love! Damn her beautiful voluptuous body . . . he was about to teach her . . . to show her what love really was!
Laurie lay in near exhaustion waiting for the next one. Phillip had seen her and gone; it hadn't developed as she had foreseen it. He didn't care! Then . . . neither did she! She'd fuck everyone in the house! It made no difference to her anymore! Let them come . . . let. them spill their vile semen into her belly . . . into her womb and impregnate her . . . She just didn't care any longer . . .
Someone was turning her over and she let them. She rolled onto her stomach willingly. At least, this would be a diversion.
"Get up on your knees!"
The voice in her ears was familiar. She started to make a move, but evidently was too slow. A hard, stinging slap caught her across the buttocks.
"I said, get up on your knees, wife!"
A tremble ran through her. The voice was undeniable. It was Phillip's. She started to creep away from him, throw herself over. Even in the pleasure of knowing he had finally come to her, she could not submit. Now, she could hate him, insult him, belittle him in front of everyone . . .
"Bitch!?" he barked, cracking her bottom unmercifully hard. "I said to climb onto your knees! You either do as you're told or I'll slap the wicked hell out of you right here before everyone, you hear? So . . . you wanted to play the slut; eh? All right, now I'm going to show you what a slut's husband does to her . . . when he loves her! Get up on your knees!"
Laurie hesitated only a moment longer. Her heart pounded; she sensed it all the way to her naked loins. She climbed onto her knees, bent before him, and waited . . . at last feeling him moving in behind her.
She shivered, suddenly feeling the length of his prick pointing downward between her buttocks to rub against the tight, moist slit of her vagina.
"All right, wife . . . take it in your hand . . . wet it if you like . . . then, place it up against this nice, tight, hairless round hole in your ass. Now, girl . . . now!"
Laurie held her breath and in sudden fear reached in under between her legs to grasp the fleshy, rigid cock pressing into her buttocks and pussy. She recoiled instantly as her fingers wrapped around it and its size along with what he intended to do with it dawned with dreaded certainty.
"Oh, God, Phillip . . . no, please! I can't take it there! It's too big!" she pleaded.
"Place it, I said" he snarled, digging his fingers harshly into the tops of her thighs.
Laurie winced from the pain of his gouging fingers, gritted her teeth and with thumb and forefinger, pressed the large bulbous head against the small tight ring of her naked anus. She felt the cords of his lean thighs tauten against the soft tender backs of her own as he strained forward. Then, his prick was worming its way into her. She chilled with terror.
"No! No!" she cried, trying to squirm free of the blunt, pain racking intrusion into her hopelessly resisting rectum, but he clung to her unmercifully, ever-pressing forward and she clenched her eyes tightly shut as the straining, elastic nether ring of her anus suddenly gave way before the relentless pressure and the huge head of his cock popped salaciously inside her. She felt his hands tighten their hold against her thighs as if she might try again to escape his torturous, depraved assault and she clenched her teeth in the sudden unbelievable agony.
"Ooooogggghhhh! Aaaagggghhhh? Stop! Stop, Phillip! You're killing me!" she cried, her face contorted not only from the agony, but the very shame and humiliation of his angry prick lewdly sodomizing her virginal and defenseless rectum right before all to see. "Oohhh, Damn you . . . I'll never forgive you for this!" she wailed back at him as he clutched savagely at her hips and thrust his cock slowly up into the warm rubbery depths of her asshole, the pressure of his straining thighs forcing her forward until her face was flat against the blanket, her bottom high up in the air, buttocks spread nakedly, helping his prick to enter in and fuck her there, its throbbing head pushing the spongy, resistant flesh before it, until finally with one last lunge that flattened her ass-cheeks against his lean frame, he had sunk the length of it into her warm, constricting passage.
"You wanted to play the whore?" Phillip rasped between clenched teeth. "Then, let's do it properly. Every trollop, worth her salt should be able to take it in the ass . . . at least, once or twice a night. Isn't that right, folks?"
"Ooohhhhh . . . oooohhhh," Laurie whimpered, faintly hearing the chorus of licentious audience laughter as she felt his pelvis smock loudly into the softness of her upturned buttocks While his balls swung hard down against the open lips of her vagina below.
She gasped for breath. She was impaled in her rectum to the hilt, unable to move from. the excruciating pain that was about to split her thighs horribly apart. Oh God; he was punishing her debasing her . . . completely and utterly destroying her forever! She would never outlive the shame of this degradation . . . and she'd loved him so . . . Dear God, she wanted to die! Die!
Phillip couldn't hold back the grunts of pleasure tumbling from his lips at the sight and thought of what he was doing to this beautiful girl he really and truly loved with all of his heart Damn! He'd teach her once and for all who the head of the family was. He should've done this a long time ago. He felt with lust-filled delight the warm soft flesh of her flattened buttocks pressing tightly into his loins. He thrust forward into her tight velvety passage and put his hand down underneath to her vagina, wet and open from the countless cocks that had fucked and shot their sperm into her, and he could feel the viscid moisture from the smooth, fleshy lips seeping salaciously out to cover the softness of her pubic hair brushing teasingly against his testicles as they swung gently down between her legs. His eyes locked on the hardened rod of flesh disappearing entirely into the tight, wide-stretched oval opening between her raised twin white mounds. He moaned again, drawing it out slightly, watching with bated breath the tender ridges of pink anal flesh pulling out with it, and then being absorbed back inside with his inward thrust. His breath came faster and suddenly with a gasp of arousal he began sawing rhythmically to and out, deep up into the warm clasping channel.
Others, unable to watch the lust-inciting exhibition any longer without satisfying their own lewd desires, had grabbed partners and sprawled to the floor to engage in whatever obscene, sensual delight that struck their fancies. More participants came from other sections of the house as the word quickly passed that the real Saturnalia was taking place on the living-room floor. In minutes, the room was filled with naked bodies, entangled legs, heaving breasts, wild thrusting cocks and greedy, unsatiable cunts. Buttocks raised and pounded while incessant moans, gasps, sighs filled the room.
"Oh, oh, oh, oh," Laurie chanted, kneeling slave like before her angry husband, almost masochistically, he ought, as if she was losing all control. She had begun to jerk back against his punishing prick as though she were abruptly reveling in its chastising possession of her rectum.
Christ, he could hardly believe her spontaneous reaction. The pain was obviously gone and her head was turning from side to side, her long silken hair thrashing wildly on either side of her shoulders. Then, she twisted to look back at him and her face reflected an unmistakable joy that bared her lips back over the white, flashing teeth in animal-like bliss.
Kneeling behind her and connected to her swaying buttocks by the long, stone-hard shaft of his throbbing, excited cock, Phillip became aware that her lovely, ecstatic face was trying to express her subservient acceptance, of his lewd assault on her tight, puckered rectum. He watched her wet, luscious lips form the words! "I love you, Darling" and he went wild with passion. He gaped at his vicious white prick disappearing and reappearing as he rammed it up her insanely gyrating, ever expanding anal passage. Christ, not a bit of the shaft could be seen left as he buried it lustfully up into the tight, hot passage, its blood-inflated head straining far into her young quivering belly.
She had left her face where he could see the effect he was having on her and he watched her lips open and close in the all consuming torment of rapture spiraling through her vibrant body. He felt her clench her buttocks tight behind her as if to imprison his driving cock securely inside her until she had reached her climax, and he continued to hammer into the wide-split crevice of her salaciously waggling buttocks.
For Laurie, there was nothing only her awareness of an uncontrollable desire where the shame and humiliation had been, her desire to reach that point was building . . . building . . . building maddeningly deep inside her . . . and she, sensed the fervent increase of his delicious assault on her bottom while her belly screamed for release. She buffeted back against his driving, relentless cock like a rutting animal, small pleading mewls of servile passion falling again and again from her gasping lips. She was almost there . . . almost there!
"Oh, my Darling, Lover! Oh, oh, oooohhhhhhh! I'm . . . I'm going to cum! Yes, my sweet . . .! Oh God . . . fuck it hard, Darling! Fuck it hard. Please . . . yessss . . . NOOWWWW!"
Her hips forced themselves back as the furiously plunging cock worked demonically with brutal strokes into her rectum, making her strain and grunt as the pressure mounted to its peak and burst. She had never dreamed that she could know such abandoned, wanton delight as she did at that precious moment with her body contorting and convulsing wildly in her orgasm that seemed to go on and on and on in sheer ecstatic bliss. She was gone, utterly gone, beneath this magnificent cock of her husband causing the continual exoding fire in her belly . . .
"Oooooohhhh . . . aggghhhhhhh," she groaned in enchanting rushing release, her senses blurred to all around her in the enrapture of the moment. Dazedly, she heard him mouth a foal obscenity as he gasped behind her and thrust into her so hard it felt as if he had rammed nearly to her throat and she inadvertently moaned with the slight twinge of pain. She felt his strong loins jerk convulsively against the flatness of her upraised buttocks and with a great surge of hot, swirling semen flooded deep up into her rectum, filling her quaking belly almost to to bursting point.
She heard him gasp one last groan of release and then she felt him falling back away and out of her, a welcoming cool rush of air tickling the unplugged hole of her rectum as she collapsed forward on the blanket, her breasts heaving spasmodically against the hard floor She lay that way for a long time, Phillip sprawled partially on top of her, her brain completely at ease, her heart overflowing with love for him, knowing vaguely in her mind that everything was going to be all right now . . . they had truly found each other at last.
But it went on, the wild debauchery, and they found themselves swept up in the lust-filled atmosphere of it as it progressed into the near daylight hours with partners being exchanged, duos, trios, and every weird, lewd combination formed and experimented with, until in complete exhaustion, Laurie's senses left her and she slipped into merciful oblivion.
Once, she was awakened by what she thought was a scream . . . and then she heard a woman cry out: "It's Mark! My God . . . he's been murdered! J-Judge Reed just shot him . . . then killed himself! Come quick, somebody! Please. . . come quick!" But it was only a dream . . . a nightmare, she felt certain, and once more she drifted away
. then, she was being lifted and carried, but she barely remembered Phillip whisking her out of there.
Chapter Twelve
There was little investigation necessary; it was all quite cut and dried. The horror to Laurie was awakening to find what she thought had been a nightmare was actually a fact; Uncle Julian had managed to walk or crawl into the house undetected, find Mark Coleman and shoot him, then, take his own life. He had kept his word; he'd stopped the Colemans' power-hungry climb once and for all . . . and Byron Acker at an emergency caucus had deservedly received the party's nomination.
She thought of these things now as she sat beside her Phillip, her small hand inside his warm, strong one, the drone of the plane that was carrying them back to Rio Lado gently lulling her into a drowsy state of placid contentment. She had never been so happy in her young life. She felt his hand tighten on hers and looked to see him smiling handsomely at her.
"Penny for your thoughts," he said softly.
"They're really worth more," she said, returning his smile. "But I'll tell you anyway. I was thinking how happy I am . . . and how lucky to have such a talented, protective, handsome, virile husband."
"I like the last part best of all," he whispered. "The virile end of it."
Little sparkling lights began to dance in her eyes. "To be honest with you, I like that end of you pretty well myself, Darling. In fact, if it were possible, I'd have some right now."
"Tease," he said, as her finger scratched tauntingly at the palm of his hand. "Wait till I get you home."
"I'll try," she replied, smiling impishly. "But, do you think little old me will be able to satisfy the unquenchable lust of such an up and coming young attorney . . . all by my little old self?"
He pretended to think about it and she watched him mischievously. Dear God, how she loved him, she thought. They were going to be so happy.
"After giving it due consideration, and, using the skilled judgment of an ex-politician, it occurs to me that you've raised a grave question," he said, feigning at judicial cogitation.
"Is that so?"
He grinned slyly. "But I don't believe it'll be a problem."
