Nurse Amy Warner shook her head feverishly as she looked up at the suave surgeon from her embarrassing position on the examining table. She saw him smile as he looked down between her widespread knees. Amy had been graduated first in her class at nursing school, but she had never heard of taking a temperature this way. There were other places to insert a thermometer besides the patient's mouth, she knew, but she had no idea that it could be inserted where the surgeon obviously had in mind. And-now that she saw him unbuckling his pants and lifting his smock-she was sure that it wasn't a thermometer he intended to use.
1
Amy had her arms full of sponges, pans and special soaps when the supervisor on duty stopped her in the hall.
"Nurse Warner," the older woman said, "Doctor Henry has been looking for you all morning."
"I've been very busy," Amy said, "trying to get my patients clean. I only have one more to go, Mr. Welknap in Room two-o-two."
"Well, you get in touch with the doctor as soon as you're finished with that old man. And watch out for him. He practically raped Nurse Olson last week."
"I'll keep my eye on him," Amy said. She shuddered at the thought of those gnarled knobby hands roaming at will over her body. Amy had somehow managed to go all through nursing school without ever once touching a human being's genitals, and she hoped to keep that record intact now here in Midland Hospital. She sometimes wondered how she came to be a nurse, with her aversion to things sexual. On the other hand, in her more honest moments, she had to admit to herself that she was perversely fascinated with the more abnormal types of sexual union. So, while she had successfully and unprecedentedly managed to get through three years of training without once touching any sexual organs, male or female, she had at the same time, and with equal ingenuity and perseverance, read every work the medical library contained concerning the physics and psychology of child-molestation, sodomy, necrophilia and other matters on the outer limits of normal healthy sexual practice.
"Oh, before I forget," the supervisor said, "here's a letter for you that came this morning."
"Just slip it in my pocket," Amy said, holding up the pans and sponges that prevented her taking the letter with her hands.
The supervisor did as Amy directed. "Now be sure to see Doctor Henry," she said again, and walked off down the hall.
Amy wondered who the letter could be from. Both her parents were dead, she didn't keep in touch with any other relatives, and she had only one real friend in the world-and he was in the hospital here with her. She was very curious about the letter; but it would have to wait until she finished her rounds. And then too, she had to see that friend of hers, the same Dr. Curt Henry who was looking for her. But first-the nurse grabber, Mr. Welknap.
The old man was reading a book when Amy walked into his private room. He seemed to be engrossed in it, and ignored her entrance. Amy felt relieved, and hoped he would behave himself with her.
"Well, it's nice to see that you are still improving your mind," she told him.
Without looking up, he told her, "Just trying to learn a little more about my condition. Have to keep those damned doctors on their toes, you know."
Amy noticed now the title of the book he was reading: The Human Urito-genitary System.
"How'd you like to chomp down on that sometime?" he asked her, a wicked senile light dancing in his eyes.
Amy found herself staring at a huge semierect penis. Underneath the photograph, the caption read: Male sexual organ of unusual length. Amy felt disgusted and frightened. She slapped the book down against the old man's chest.
Trying to regain her composure by treating the incident as a joke, she said, "Okay, we've had only fun for today. Now let's get on with the business of being sick."
The old man licked his lips. "Wish I had me one of those right now," he said. "Jesus, wouldn't I give you nurses hell!"
"I think you're doing a pretty good job as it is," Amy said, forcing a smile. "Now let's get you all nice and clean again."
"My pleasure," the old man said. He threw back the bed covers in one quick jerk, grabbed his wizened penis, and shook it in Amy's face.
Amy reacted quickly. She pulled the sheet and blanket back over his naked body and shook her finger at him.
"If you don't behave," she told him, "I'll get Doctor Henry in here to hold you down while I wash you. And then I'll have him shoot you so full of medicine that you'll be as docile as a puppy."
Mr. Welknap didn't seem impressed. "Oh, go ahead and call in Henry, that curly-headed bastard. You probably just want to see him anyway. Everybody knows you two are fucking each other. I bet he shoots you full of something that brings a big fat smile to your face!"
"That's it, Mr. Welknap," Amy said. "You are nothing but a dried-up old lecher. And if you say one more word, I'll ring for Supervisor Clutchens." She threw back the covers from him again, and began to roughly scrub his caved-in thin chest.
The old man lay back and took it. "Well," he said meekly, "you are fucking that good-looking bastard, ain't you? I bet his cock is at least as big and chunky as the one in that book. Now, you can admit it to me, can't you? I mean, seeing how we is friends and all, you don't have to pretend to me he ain't reamed out your little honey pot."
Amy tried to ignore him. She scrubbed his scrawny arms so harshly, he cried out for her to take it a little easy-he didn't want to be washed into the next world this soon.
When Amy relaxed a little, the old man started in again on her. "I'd like to get in your creamy well myself. You don't think an old buzzard like me can still make the grade, but I'd show you if you'd let me. I could still teach those young bucks a trick or two."
Then, emboldened by all his talk, the old man reached up and tweaked the end of Amy's full breast. Amy immediately slapped his hand away.
"You really are looking for trouble today, aren't you?" she said, a note of real anger coming into her voice for the first time.
Mr. Welknap just smiled up at her. "No, honey, I ain't looking for trouble. I'm just looking for pussy, like I always do."
Amy had now finished sponging off all his body except the area around his genitals. She held out the sponge to him. "Here," she said, "you'll have to finish the rest of the body yourself."
"No chance," the old man said, grinning at her. "After all, I'm in here because of an inflammation of the pissing system, and that's the part you got to clean best of all. Just do it nice and easy, and we'll both enjoy it."
Amy looked at his wizened penis; it was as wrinkled and stringy as a chicken's neck. She gagged at the thought of taking that unclean organ in her hands. She held out the sponge to him again.
"Do it yourself," she said in a choked voice.
"No chance, sweetie," the old man said. "Now, if you don't get cracking in thirty seconds, I'm going to ring for Supervisor Clutchens myself. Do you think she would like you not washing my cock, when I'm only in here because the damn thing is giving me trouble? Now you got twenty seconds to begin." He gloated at her.
The old bastard's got me over a barrel, Amy thought to herself. Clutchens knows what a lecher the old bastard can be; but she also knows why he's in the hospital. And since I've only been here a couple of months myself, I'm still on trial. She could give me a black mark for refusing to wash this buzzard. Oh God, what choice do I have?
"Time's up," the old man said. "And of course, you know you have to wash my dick with your hands, not that clammy sponge. My special medicine is in that top drawer over there."
Feeling trapped, frightened and humiliated, Amy took his special salve from the drawer and squirted a gob into the palm of her hand. Somehow it felt so greasy and obscene that she had the urge to throw up. But she took hold of herself and began to rub the salve onto the old man's penis.
"Don't look so disgusted," Welknap said. "I don't know how you ever got to be a nurse if you don't like helping patients."
Under her breath, Amy muttered, "Neither do I. Neither do I."
Then Amy was startled to find that as she rubbed the ointment into the old man's penis, the organ began to grow under her fingertips. She started to sweat as the penis came alive and wiggled upward to a stiff position. She was fascinated by the whole process and increased the speed of her strokes. The old man lay back, his eyes closed, a broad complacent smile splitting his face. He was enjoying the bath.
The penis was well greased by this time and slid easily through Amy's fingers as she manipulated it. She was surprised to find so much life in the old man's organ; but then, she had never before held anyone's penis in her hand. It was more pliable than she had imagined from looking at the pictures in the medical books. Just as she was about to stop, bringing herself back to reality from the suspended state she seemed to be in, the old man began to breath heavily. She stared at him as he gasped for air, thinking that she had perhaps unknowingly brought on a heart attack.
"Pump that cock faster," the old man managed to tell her between gasps. "I'm almost over the hump."
Amy didn't know what he was talking about. She was scared now, and let the penis fall from her hand. She picked up a towel and began to wipe his rigid organ clean. But she had only stroked it a few times when it began to jump about wildly, twitching in her palm. And then, before she could release the penis, great gobs of white cream began to spurt from its tip.
"Oh," Amy said, surprised as thick lumps of sperm flew up and landed on the freshly-starched breasts of her white uniform. "Stop it! You stop that this very minute, Mr. Welknap, or I'll report you to the supervisor!"
But the old man didn't seem to hear her; and the sperm just kept squirting out. On instinct, Amy dropped the towel and ran out of the room, leaving her pans and soaps and sponges behind her. She ran right into the arms of Doctor Webbley Caine, almost knocking him over.
"Whoa," the tall, gray-haired man said, "what's the big rush?"
Amy could hardly catch her breath. "I ... I'm so sorry, Doctor Caine," she stammered. "It's just ... just that I'm very busy today."
"So I see," the tall man said. He put his arms tightly around her, pressing her breasts against his chest. "Now suppose you tell me what that white gook is all over the front of your uniform."
Amy blushed scarlet. What could she tell him-that she had just been tricked into masturbating an old man, a patient with a uro-genitary condition, until he squirted his load of sperm on her white uniform? She thought quickly and answered, "Oh, that's just some medicine one of the patients threw up on me. I was just going to get it cleaned up when I ran into you."
"A likely story," the doctor said. Amy was afraid that he knew what had really happened, but when she looked at his face, she saw it was only a pleasantry. She smiled back at him and hoped he wouldn't ask her any more questions.
Dr. Webbley Caine had a reputation as a suave lecher and Amy had been warned about him the first day she arrived at Midland Hospital. On her second day at work, he had made the first pass, and she had politely turned him down. He had been after her ever since to go out with him and she had always refused him, nicely but firmly. Still now she felt she couldn't say anything to him when she felt his hands slide down her back and cup her behind. The quickest way of getting rid of him now was to allow him a few liberties. If he decided to investigate the patient in Room 202, he could cause her a lot of trouble.
After a few moments of having her behind pinched, Amy said, "I really must go now, Doctor Caine. I have a thousand things to do."
"Of course," the tall man said. "How else would we run this hospital without you dedicated nurses?" He still didn't release her.
"If I don't go soon, Supervisor Clutchens will have my hide," Amy said, trying to be pleasant at the same time she attempted to disengage herself from his encircling arms.
"I wouldn't mind having that sweet hide myself," the doctor said. He stroked her throat with the back of his smooth hand. Amy marveled at how soft it was; then she remembered that Dr. Caine was the busiest surgeon at the hospital and he always took excellent care of his hands, saying they were like the hands of a great pianist. He also said they were his fortune-and they were. Webbley Caine was at least a millionaire, Amy knew; all the society ladies loved him, and frequently went under the knife for the sole reason of his elegant, smooth way at the bedside. Amy hoped she would never have to taste the treats of that manner, especially in bed.
"Suppose we have a nice quiet dinner together tonight," the doctor suggested. "Just you and me and a very fine wine."
"I really don't know if I can make it," Amy said, trying, under the circumstances, to excuse herself as gracefully as possible. "The fact is, I think I already have a date for tonight."
The tall man seemed suddenly to lose all interest in her and let her go. "I suppose you mean with that hot shot, Curt Henry? Well, he has been looking all over the hospital for you for hours. Doctors should watch over their business while on duty, and let their personal lives-their sex lives-blossom when they're off duty. I don't know what you see in that fellow anyway. What you need is a mature man, like myself. I have everything to offer you that he has, plus a lot more money. Think it over, dear. Perhaps we can yet come to terms." He bowed to her and walked away, smoothing his hair back with one expertly manicured hand.
Amy let out a sigh of relief and quickly went back into Mr. Welknap's room. He was lying in bed, still naked, sleeping like a baby. She covered him up, recovered her cleaning equipment and hurried back out into the hall.
When she passed the nurses station, one of the nurses called out to her. "Doctor Henry is looking for you. He said he would wait in the staff lounge on this floor."
"Thank you," Amy said, quickly putting away her armload of materials. At last it seemed she would be able to catch up with Dr. Curt Henry.
Dr. Curt Henry, tanned, with a full head of curly hair, was drinking a cup of coffee when Amy walked into the staff lounge. He was about six feet tall, was handsome in a boyish way, and had been a resident at Midland Hospital for two years. For the past month, he had been dating Amy exclusively and seemed to enjoy her company as much as she did his.
"Where have you been?" he asked as soon as she walked in. "I've been searching high and low for you since ten o'clock this morning."
Amy tucked a loose strand of her auburn hair under her white cap and went over to the coffee machine. "It's been a long, terrible morning," she told him. "And simply everyone has been telling me you were looking for me. It's a wonder you haven't organized the wheelchair patients into patrols and sent them down the hallways, paging me."
The young doctor laughed and led her to two empty chairs. "I'm sorry, Amy," he said. "I only wanted to ask you out for tonight. I didn't mean to embarrass you."
She remembered her recent encounter with the elegant Dr. Caine and quickly accepted his offer. "It's nothing really," she said, setting him at ease again. "It's just that this morning has been so dreadful for me. Sometimes I think I'm just not cut out to be a nurse. There are just too many ugly sides to the job." A picture of Mr. Welknap's squirting penis flashed through her mind and she involuntarily shuddered.
"Are you cold? Not coming down with the flu, I hope." Dr. Henry rubbed her arm, as if to get the circulation moving again.
"No, it's nothing," Amy said. She put on a smile. "Well, where are we going tonight?"
"Oh, I thought we might have some dinner, and then just play it by ear from there. How does that sound?"
"Fine. You know, that smooth Doctor Caine has been after me again. He wanted to take me to dinner tonight too. Probably some swank place like the Regent Club."
The young doctor looked worried. "I don't like to see you hanging around that man," he said.
"Not just because I'm jealous-and I am. Caine has captivated, and ruined, many a young nurse around here. I don't trust that man. He's too smooth, too good at impressing people. From what I hear, he's an excellent surgeon. At least, he handles himself well at the operating table, though I think his ethics are questionable, to say the least. Be careful around him. Will you promise me that?"
Amy smiled at his earnestness, his desire to protect her. She crossed her heart. "I promise, cross my heart and hope to die."
Curt Henry wasn't amused. "It's more serious than that. But I'll accept your promise. Now," he said, back in good humor, "can you promise me you'll be on time when I come by to pick you up tonight? I want to leave no later than seven."
"It's a deal," Amy said.
"Good." He glanced at his watch. "Now I have to run." He kissed her lightly on the cheek. "See you tonight."
"Tonight," Amy said, watching him leave the room with his usual determined stride. She leaned back to enjoy her cup of coffee. Then she suddenly remembered the letter that the supervisor had put in her pocket earlier that morning. Amy pulled it out and looked at the postmark, wondering again who could be writing to her here. The postmark told her the letter came from Chicago, but nothing more. She hurriedly slit the top open with her long thumbnail.
Amy unfolded the short letter and glanced immediately at the bottom. She recognized the almost illegible scrawl of a signature: Joey. Amy sucked in her breath, suddenly frightened. Joey-Josephine-had been her roommate for the two years of nurse's training. Amy turned now to the text of the letter: Dear Amy-Chicago is driving me absolutely batty. It's the ugliest city I've ever seen. So, I've decided to get away from it all, and get together with you again. I start work at Midland Hospital next week. Expect me no later than Thursday.
Love, Joey
Amy folded the letter neatly and put it back in the envelope. Thursday, she thought. That's tomorrow. God, it's just like Joey not to give me a chance to prepare myself.
Amy's mind drifted back to those first days together with Joey at the training school. She had been fiercely jealous of Joey since the first night they were roommates.
Not that Joey was any better looking or better built than Amy. In fact, though the blonde roommate's breasts were bigger, they were not nearly as firm or well shaped as Amy's. Amy had noticed how the blonde's large breasts collapsed on her chest when she lay down; and her nipples were broad and dull-colored in contrast to Amy's, which were a rich ruby in color and puckered seductively. And Joey's face had a certain hardness along with her attractive features. Amy was a blue-eyed auburn beauty who would look equally appropriate in either a farmhouse kitchen or a penthouse boudoir. There was a wholesome healthy sexual glow to her that not only attracted men who wanted to lay her, but also men who wanted to marry her.
But Joey had a freedom that was somehow denied to Amy. That first night they spent together in the same room as student nurses, Joey had come in late and proceeded to tell Amy about the royal screwing she had just had from the new handsome intern at the hospital. Amy had noticed him only that morning and had been attracted at once by the smoldering light in his eyes; she had been, though, incapable of even saying hello to him.
"It wasn't so hard," Joey had laughed. "I simply made sure that we would be alone in the dispensary this afternoon. Then I accidentally on purpose dropped a bottle of pills. When I stooped to pick up the little bastards, I made sure he could see my ass. In no time at all, he was helping me gather up the pills and inviting me out to dinner. After that, it was just a matter of letting him do what comes naturally. And let me tell you this," she had said, laughing so hard that Amy had to lean closer to understand her words, "that hot-eyed Romeo is a real clutz. He had so much trouble unfastening my bra that I almost laughed out loud in his face. For the sake of future patients, I hope he doesn't decide to become a surgeon." Joey had doubled up with laughter.
Amy hadn't known whether to be listening to the story or not. She had felt that ambivalence that was to haunt her so much in the following years: she had been both shocked and excited.
Throughout their apprenticeship, there were other incidents that caused Amy to envy and hate her uninhibited blonde roommate. One time especially stuck in her mind; and this letter dredged up the whole dirty scene again.
It was late in their first year when they were first allowed to work on human bodies-dead bodies, to be sure, but shaped like human beings for all their chill and odor of formaldehyde. Amy and Joey had shared the corpse of a heavily-muscled young black man. His penis, even in death, hung down long and thick and black as a bullwhip.
"What I wouldn't give for a taste of that," Joey had whistled, and all the other nurses, except Amy, had laughed and nodded in agreement.
Thus, when Amy came in later that afternoon to do some work on her cadaver, she wasn't too surprised, after the initial shock, to find the penis missing. She knew it would turn up that night.
And it did. Joey had used a scalpel to cut the penis from the body. She had then shoved the metal rod from a straightened clothes hanger through the base up to near the tip, and had mounted the whole thing on the amputated end of a whisk broom. Cleaned of its preservatives and powdered with sweet talcum, it made a crude but effectively life-like dildo.
Joey had summoned most of her friends into the small room for a demonstration. Amy had not even protested, knowing she would only be laughed at for her pains. What puzzled her, and mystified Joey too, was why she stayed to the end, a curious witness to the happening.
The girls were all giggling like a bunch of high school boys sneaking their first look at a girlie magazine. Joey soon took things in hand.
"This here cock," she said, brandishing the severed penis and affecting a Southern drawl, "used to belong to one hell of a buck nigra. But the poor coon had to give it up, on account of he was always sticking it where it didn't belong. And I ain't talking 'bout up no possum's ass now, chillun. I'm talking about real USDA-certified magnolia scented, foot-deep, flower-of-Southern-womanhood cunt."
The girls were holding their sides with the pain of their laughter. One made a move as if to grab the penis from Joey's hand, but Joey pulled it back fast.
"Whoa now, chillun. There's plenty to go around. You just wait your turn like ladies." She then raised her hips and pulled her short skirt up around her waist. Amy's eyes bulged: Joey was wearing no panties and she had the shaggiest twat Amy had ever seen in her life.
The laughter died swiftly and an air of expectation filled the room. Amy wanted to tear her eyes away from the degrading scene, but she found she simply could not. Then Joey turned her head toward her and said sweetly, "Won't you please hand me that jar of Vaseline, Amy, like a good girl?"
Joey took the jar from Amy and dipped her fingers into it. Then she wiped them on the Negro's penis, smearing the shaft evenly with the lubricant. When the penis was well greased, she spread her legs wider and tilted her pelvis upward. With only a little exertion, the head of the penis entered her hair-ringed hole. One of the girls gasped as the tough black knob parted Joey's pubic lips.
"Now, now, honey," Joey said to the girl. "It's not alive. It won't bite me."
A few of the girls chuckled at this, but most remained intensely silent, their eyes fixed on Joey's vagina, where the hard dark shaft was steadily disappearing.
Amy suddenly felt something moist ooze out of her own vagina and dampen her panties. Oh God, she thought to herself, what is happening to me.
She felt dirty. But still her gaze was riveted on the scene in front of her.
When only the short length of broom handle was sticking from Joey's vagina, she began to slowly withdraw the penis, and slowly push it in again. Someone had taken the high-intensity study lamp from Amy's desk and was training the bright beam on the penis sliding in and out of Joey's bushy hole. Heads were bent closer to the bed to take in every movement. Amy discovered that she now had to stand on tiptoe to see at all. She was frightened of her own reactions to the scene. And still the juice was flowing from her crotch, some now trickling down her firm thighs.
Joey was sopping wet too, and the black stiff penis made a horrible slurping noise as it passed to and fro in her lathered canal. Joey was moaning and twisting on the narrow dormitory bed as her hands shoved the shaft more rapidly in and out of her vagina.
"Oh sweet Jesus!" she cried out. "If I only had the rest of this black motherfucker alive here on top of me!" Her hips were pumping in time with the thrusting motion of her hands, and Amy could see too that her thighs were trembling from the exertion.
And then a strange feeling came over Amy. She suddenly desired to be there kneeling in front of Joey, shoving that mummied penis into the blonde's vagina. She felt frightened then, scared of her own strong urges, and she wanted desperately to avert her eyes. But she could not; she had to watch to the last.
Joey was thrashing so violently on the bed that two girls had to steady her, or she would have rolled off onto the floor. Not even the truncated broom handle was visible now; Joey had crammed every last inch into her accommodating hole. Her body was heaving wildly, uncontrollably humping the homemade dildo.
And Amy discovered that she too was moving her twat quickly, rubbing it against the back of the chair by her desk. When she realized what she was doing she immediately stopped, hoping it was not too late. But there was no time to worry about herself; Joey had the whole bed shaking beneath her as she reached the peak of her passion. Her hips rose higher and higher from the bed, humping animalistically against the air, until a sharp cry escaped from her throat and she collapsed, sweating profusely, onto the rumpled bedcovers.
A communal sigh rose from the circle of heavily breathing girls. One said, "That was beautiful. I haven't seen anything like it since Nureyev and Dame Margot Fonteyn balleted themselves into a climax two years ago in New York."
"Yeah," someone else said. "And Joey did it the hard way, with only half a partner."
That broke the ice and they were comfortable and joking again. Joey smiled at them like a fond mother. When they crowded around, each begging for a chance to use the dead penis next, she only shook her head and pushed them aside.
"Here," she said, handing the long black rod to Amy. "I think my roommate should get seconds."
But Amy could only gag, then regurgitate her dinner over the proffered gift, completely messing up the object of Joey's recent ecstasy.
Now, in Midland Hospital over a year later, Amy had the urge to retch again. She in no way welcomed the idea of her former roommate coming to the same hospital as herself. Joey was too strong a force for Amy; she made Amy embarrassingly aware of her own sexuality.
And there was one other important point to consider. Amy was thinking of Curt Henry, and what would happen to him once Joey began to work on him. She shuddered at the thought of the young doctor and the sexy blonde nurse working together.
There were an awful lot of things to consider before Joey showed up the next day. Amy filled her cup with coffee and sat back to plan her strategy. Her hands shook and she felt as if it were going to be an intolerably long day.
2
Both Amy and Dr. Curt Henry were a little drunk when they arrived back at her apartment after dinner. Besides a couple of drinks apiece before dinner, they had consumed a bottle of good white wine with the meal.
"What a nice night," Amy said, throwing her coat over the back of the nearest chair. She fell back into the soft cushions of the couch, still laughing.
"It was terrific," the young doctor said. "But I sure feel like I need a little ballast now, or I'll just float away into the atmosphere."
Amy tapped her cheek with her finger. "Let me think a bit. I do have a bottle of Scotch somewhere around the place. Would you like another drink?"
"Only if you'll join me," Curt said.
"Oh, I've had more than enough already," Amy protested. "After all, I do have to be at work early tomorrow morning."
"Oh, think about that tomorrow," the doctor said. "A drink now can't hurt much, on top of what we've already had. And that's the doctor's orders."
"Okay," Amy said. "Why don't you find some music on that radio, while I fix the drinks?"
Amy went into the kitchen. Curt found some soft music after twirling the dial for a while. He turned the lights low and sat down to wait for Amy's return.
Amy was back shortly, bringing the two drinks.
She took a place on the sofa across from the chair where Curt sat.
Curt took a long sip from his glass and leaned back to study Amy.
"You know," he said, "you have beautiful eyes. They're so striking, especially coupled with that marvelous head of red hair."
"Auburn hair," Amy corrected him.
"Auburn hair," he went on. "And your legs too-they're so firm, so shapely. I could make a real dish out of those."
The liquor had made Amy bolder than she usually was. "So you like my legs, do you?" she asked. "Well, you haven't even really seen them yet." She lifted her hips and raised her skirt above her thighs, so that Curt could see where the legs came together at her crotch.
He sucked in his breath, stunned with her completely unexpected and uncharacteristic action. "Beautiful," he marveled. "Those panties are just about one shade less blue than your eyes."
"I'm just totally color-coordinated," she laughed.
Curt found his tongue was dry in his mouth. "I'd like to see some more," he said. "God, I would love to see anything else you'd care to show me."
Amy was feeling very light-headed, very carefree. She felt more relaxed with a man than she ever had before in her life. All the worries that bothered her earlier in the day had seemed to completely disappear. She took a long pull from her Scotch and began to unbutton her blouse. Curt, staring at her in fascination, was transfixed in his chair. His eyes followed her fingers intently as they moved from button to button down her blouse. When they reached the end, her blouse fell open. Curt was startled to see that she was not completely naked underneath. Jesus, he thought, she must be the only girl of her generation who still wears a bra.
"Would you like another Scotch?" Amy asked, smiling sweetly at him.
"I think I need one," he answered, handing her his empty glass.
She soon returned again from the kitchen, bearing the two full glasses. She gave Curt his, then regained her seat on the sofa. She kicked off her shoes, and curled her legs up underneath her. Curt had a good look at her crotch now, as her skirt rode up around her hips. Her blouse hung loosely open too, and he could see her large firm breasts spilling over the top of her bra. It was driving him crazy.
Amy, feeling very mellow after the drinks, was unconscious of the effect she was having on the young doctor. She knew she had never behaved quite this way before in the presence of a man, but she seemed to have forgotten the reason for her former modesty, or fear.
"That...." Curt began. "That must be uncomfortable for you, sitting there with your skirt bunched up around your waist. Why don't you just take it all the way off?"
Amy looked at him innocently. "Do you really think I should?"
Curt could hardly squeeze out the word-"Yes."
Amy stood up straight before him and stretched her lithe body. The blouse fell back from her and Curt feasted on the bound breasts that seemed to be pointing straight at him. Amy reached behind her and undid the small zipper that held the skirt together. She wiggled once, and it fell in a pile around her ankles.
"Just stunning," Curt said, appreciating the view. "I'd like to see your breasts too, if I may."
"Why?" she asked him, the same innocent look on her face.
Curt was hard pressed to come up with the right answer. Finally, he said, honestly enough, "Because I want to feel them in my hands."
"Oh," Amy said, as if that explained everything. She unhooked the bra, and her large breasts tumbled out free. She was now standing in front of him dressed only in her sheer blue panties.
Curt, trembling, stood up and tentatively touched one breast with his fingertips. The nipple immediately grew hard. He traced the outline of the protruding red mound, then took the whole breast in the palm of his hand, as if he were weighing it. It felt heavy.
"You too," Amy said suddenly, startling him.
"What do you mean?" he asked, mystified.
"You take off your clothes too," she said.
Curt was only too happy to oblige. He quickly shucked his pants and shirt, throwing them behind him onto the chair. Then he pulled off his shoes and socks.
Amy offered no resistance as Curt pulled her hard against himself. Her nipples jutted into his chest. She felt no fear about being so close to an almost naked man. It must be the liquor, she thought, marveling at her own lack of shame or fright. She could hardly believe that she was doing all this; it was more as if she were watching, in a dream, someone who looked like her accept, and even invite, the young doctor's attention. But she was still conscious enough of her actions to honestly admit to herself that she was excited by the whole business.
Curt's hands were making tentative explorations of Amy's panty-clad body. They moved slowly along her slim sides, feeling the dip where her hips went in to form her waist; then moving slowly up to her breasts, coddling them, teasing the nipples until Amy felt them tingle. He put his head down in the valley between her breasts, inhaling her body's strong fragrance.
"What are you going to do?" Amy suddenly asked him.
Again, the young doctor was startled by her forthrightness. He decided, too, to be equally candid.
"I'm going to make love to you," he said. He glanced quickly at her face to see how she had taken that bit of information.
But Amy's expression had not changed at all. Her eyes lacked their usual clear light; her mouth seemed loose, sensual, deprived of its usual prim defensiveness. The tip of her tongue darted between her lips, licking them till they glistened, and Curt's heart lodged in his throat. Amy seemed to be acting now from instinct, not the acquired rules of polite repressed society. In her pliant mood, Curt had no trouble guiding her to the sofa, and making her stretch out on it.
When she had settled onto the sofa without breaking her somnambulistic mood, Curt put his hands inside the elastic bands of her blue panties, and slipped the garment down her shapely legs. The sight of her rich auburn pubic hair dazzled him. He twined his fingers in the strands, teasing the hair into circlets and curls. When he dared to let one finger edge down into the crack below her mound of Venus, he discovered with delight that she was sopping wet. He looked quickly at Amy to see how she was taking his probing. She was undisturbed, laying back with her lips slightly parted and her eyes closed. Heartened at this sign, Curt bent his head closer to her middle, poking his nose into her snatch. It was met with a delightfully rank odor. The doctor was glad to find she was not one of the misguided young women who doused themselves with "feminine hygiene" sprays and powders, in the mistaken belief that men liked their women's vaginas to smell like cosmetic counters. Curt sniffed deeply, dragging in the musk that her body gave off. And Amy just lay there, passive and enticing.
Encouraged by her response, or lack of negative response, Curt put his tongue into the groove of her vagina. When Amy first felt that warm wet organ enter her snatch, she stiffened, more from the newness of the sensation, rather than any unpleasantness she felt. But as he began to slowly lick the red nub of her clit and wipe the walls of her slick vagina, she relaxed and began to enjoy what was happening. Occasionally, she would even raise her hips to facilitate his probing.
"Do you like the feel of my tongue on your cunt?" Curt asked her.
"Mmmmm," she said. "I like it. Don't stop now."
"Is there anything special you would like me to do?" Curt asked, still somewhat shocked at the liberties Amy was allowing him.
"Anything you want," she moaned. "Just lick my pussy."
Curt was galvanized into action by her saying "pussy." He dipped his tongue back into her crack, investigating the groove from clit to asshole and back again. The slightly metallic tang of her juices stimulated him. He sucked up all he could, replacing some with the saliva that flowed from his hungering mouth. His lips were becoming raw from being steeped in all that liquid.
He decided to concentrate on her clit for a while. Amy loved the way his tongue curled around her small organ, enveloping it in wet warmth. She responded by thrusting her hips up, driving the clit against his mouth, causing Curt to redouble his efforts. Her body thrilled as he batted her clit with the tip of his tongue, or pressed hard against it with the broader flesh of that organ. Amy felt as if her face were glowing; and she was sure this time that it was not the effect of all the alcohol she had consumed that evening.
Curt's tongue searched lower. He found the opening to her dark tunnel, and inched his tongue into it. He was stopped a short way up, and was shocked to realize that he had come upon an almost extinct obstacle, a hymen. Jesus, he thought to himself, this girl is still a virgin. He knew she was reserved, careful, but he thought that was only innate cautiousness, not the result of her virginity.
Amy was unaware of the problem she was creating for the curly-headed doctor. She only knew that he had suddenly stopped licking her; and she shifted her hips impatiently, wanting him to begin again. She was wrapped in a kind of sensual fog that allowed her to see only a little way past herself.
Soon the tongue began again, this time moving even lower, down to the brown button of her asshole. Amy didn't like it at first; it seemed somehow very perverse and nasty to be sticking a tongue in the same hole that passed out excrement. But she gave in soon enough when the pleasurable sensations overruled her moral censors. It tickled too, and she felt on the verge of laughter as Curt wiped her anus clean.
She didn't even mind it when Curt took his mouth from her asshole and brought it up to kiss her. There was a peculiar taste to his kisses though, and it seemed familiar to her, though she couldn't immediately place the memory. Then it all came back to her. And while Curt was closing her mouth with fiery kisses, her mind was wandering back a few months to the night before she and the other student nurses were to take the final exam that would either make them certified nurses, or send them back to school for another year of training.
It all began around eight that evening. Amy was in her room, preparing for the examination, when Joey walked in. Amy was studying a book on human anatomy, and happened to have the text open to a picture of the male body. Joey looked over her roommate's shoulder at the naked man.
"Drooling over cock again, huh, Warner?" the blonde said.
Amy blushed to the roots of her auburn hair. She slammed the book closed and gave the blonde a nasty look.
"Why do you always have to be so coarse?" Amy asked. "I'm studying for finals, of course. And if you had any sense of responsibility, you would be doing the same thing. You know your grades are so poor that only a good showing on the final can pull you through. "
Joey lay back on her narrow bed, smoking a cigarette. "God, Warner," she said, "you can be such a cunt sometimes. Look, some of the girls are having a little party later tonight in Beth's room. Why don't you come along and have some fun for a change? Everybody knows you're going to be first in the class, so there's no need to impress anyone with all of your goddamned studying. "
Amy smiled icily at the blonde and waved away the smoke that was knotting itself around her head. "I'm not trying to impress anyone," she said. "I simply want to be sure I know enough not to put a patient in worse shape than his original ailment did."
Joey winced. Amy was cruelly referring to an incident that happened in their first year of training. Joey had administered the wrong medicine to a seriously ill patient and had almost killed him.
"You are a bitch, aren't you?" Joey said. Then she jumped up and cheerfully said, "Remember, the party's in Beth's room, if you change your mind." She blew a kiss to Amy and breezed out the door.
Amy was immediately remorseful. She thought about going to the party to make up for what she had said to Joey. Amy knew she was not very popular with her classmates; she knew she was only tolerated for the sake of Joey, who was idolized by many of the girls for her daring and flair. The other student nurses didn't quite know what to make of Amy; She was beautiful and intelligent, and yet she seemed cold to them. Amy was aware of their attitude, and it caused her considerable pain at first, before she learned to adjust her feelings to it. But if their puzzlement caused them to be indifferent to her, Amy could always seek solace in the books of perverted sexuality the library provided. She soon came to live almost exclusively in her own private world of fears and forbidden excitement, a world that only occasionally and incidentally touched on the real world around her.
Still, she thought, we will all be graduating soon. Amy knew there was no real need for her to be going over the textbooks; she knew them practically by heart, and was now only going through the motions of studying. In less than a week she would be trading in her drab gray-green student nurse uniform for the crisp sparkling white of a registered nurse. The girls would soon be getting their first professional assignments along with their diplomas, and she would probably never see any of them again. After considering all this, Amy decided she would indeed go to the party at Beth's.
She smoothed her hair, closed the door behind her, and walked down the hall to Beth's room.
A large meaty girl in cut-off jeans and a rib-tickling blouse met Amy at the door. "Well, come on in, babe. We didn't think you would show up tonight, but we're certainly glad to have you."
"Thank you, Beth," Amy said politely. "I just thought I would stop in and say good-bye to everyone. You know, in a few days we'll be split up all over the country. "
"Well, that's nice of you," Beth said. "How about a little drink?" She steered Amy over to her desk, which had been converted into a bar for the party.
Amy took her drink, a watery Scotch on the rocks, and found a seat on the cushions scattered in the dark area of the room. She felt a little uneasy at these all-girl get-together; there was always a tinge of bitchery and Lesbianism. Only about ten of her classmates were present so far, and Amy soon made out the figure of Joey reclining on the bed nearest the door. A couple of the others were dancing in an exaggeratedly abandoned style in the small clearing at the center of the room. Amy sipped her drink, then closed her eyes and leaned back, letting the loud music invade her body. The strong slap of the drums beat in her like another pulse. She had never cared much for music, but she understood how others could come so much under the sway of the hypnotic rhythms.
"So you decided to come after all." Joey was standing in front of her. She had opened the front of her blouse so that the deep cleavage of her breasts was visible, along with part of the massive mounds of flesh. She was wearing no bra.
Amy flushed, hoping it was only the effect of the drink. "Yes," she answered. "I ... I like parties too, you know." She was embarrassed for some reason she didn't know, and quickly took a big drink of her Scotch.
"You're empty," Joey said softly. "Let me fill you again." She took Amy's glass and headed to the make-shift bar.
A slow dreamy song came on the stereo. Beth grabbed one of the younger girls and pulled her out onto the "dance floor" to join the lone couple dancing there. They danced very close together. Amy wondered how one girl could place her body so tightly against another girl's body. She was sure that intimate contact would only make her sick and ashamed of herself.
Joey was back with the refilled glass. She handed it to Amy and said, "Would you like to dance?"
Amy recoiled. "No, no, I couldn't. "
A hard light came into Joey's eyes. Her lips seemed to tighten.
That twisted feeling gripped the muscles in Amy's stomach. She was frightened by the look on Joey's face. "I mean, I don't much like to dance," she said lamely.
Joey stared at Amy for another long, unbearable moment. Then she turned on her heel and walked over to one of the other girls. They took their place on the floor with the other couples.
The room was getting hot now, crowded as it was. When the slow song ended, Beth stripped her blouse off over her head and tossed it aside. Her breasts were not big, but flopped loosely when she moved. Taking the hint, a few of the other girls also disrobed to the waist. The small room seemed to be alive with bobbing breasts.
Another slow song began playing. This time, Joey took Beth as her dancing partner. Amy sat transfixed, watching the two sets of breasts nuzzle each other as Joey and Beth moved rhythmically to the music. It's so disgusting, she thought to herself. And yet, she was getting excited watching the huge breasts push into each other, the nipples standing out hard from the hills of flesh. She was mesmerized by a drop of sweat sliding down the side of Beth's right breast. It hung on the edge for a second, then dropped off, making a tiny splash on the floor. Joey's moving, unshod foot soon covered the spot where it landed, wiping it into non-existence. It was then that Amy realized how tired and sad she felt. She quickly downed her second drink and rose to mix a third.
At the make-shift bar, she noticed two of the girls had stopped dancing and were sitting close to each other, fondling each other's breasts. One lowered her head to the other's breast, taking the nipple deep into her mouth. Amy hurriedly mixed her Scotch and turned to go back to her place on the cushions.
But on the way there, she was waylaid by Beth and forced into a close embrace on the dance floor. There was no music playing now, but Beth guided Amy's struggling body through a series of rhythmic maneuvers. Joey stood to one side, expressionless, watching the performance.
Amy called out to her, "Joey, please help me!"
"Sure, I'll help you, "Joey said in a strange voice that Amy didn 't recognize.
Amy was frightened. She fought free of Beth, and began to back away from her advancing roommate. Helplessly, she held out her hands as if to ward off an attack from Joey.
Everyone in the room had now quit what they were doing and were turning their attention to the confrontation between Amy and Joey. Behind Joey, Beth was moving in slowly toward Amy, a leer distorting her face.
"So you think you can treat us like dirt," Joey said.
Amy took one more step backward, then discovered that she could retreat no further; there was a wall of female flesh behind and around her. And Joey and Beth kept advancing. Amy wanted to scream, yell for help. But all she could utter was the same monosyllable, over and over in a mechanical tone devoid of hope; "No, no, no...."
Then she knew she was on the floor, though she didn't know how she got there. Hands were tearing at her clothing and she felt suddenly cool as her blouse was unbuttoned and stripped from her.
There was a kind of liquid movement down her legs, as if water or blood were running down them. But when she raised her head to look, she saw it was only her panties being removed. Her skirt was bunched up around her waist and she was now naked, except for that narrow border of cloth, from her head to her heels. Her arms and legs were held down by the girls, her legs spread obscenely wide. Amy felt totally defenseless, naked in a more horrible and radical way than simply being unclothed.
And between her legs, she saw Joey kneeling, the wild unnatural look still on her face.
"So the bitch thinks she's too good for us, huh?" It was Beth's hoarse, mannish voice. "Too good to be touched by human hands?" The meaty woman stepped quickly out of her cut-off jeans. "Well, let's give her a taste of this medicine. "
Beth straddled Amy's head. Looking up, the whole world seemed black to Amy, as if it had been reduced to that thick hairy opening that was about to descend on her. Beth slowly began to squat, the thick forest of her snatch aimed directly at Amy's mouth. As the first rank smell of Beth's vagina hit Amy's nostrils, she felt something warm and vague and wet slap against her own crotch. It was too much at once, and she wanted to turn her head away, try to kick, scratch, anything. But she was not fast enough, and the mushy slit made a hard landing on her face. She tried to scream, but all that happened was her tongue darted out and plunged immediately into the folds of Beth's vagina, making matters worse.
"Ah," Beth sighed, "the little thing has decided to cooperate."
Joey had found Amy's clit by this time and was manipulating it with her tongue and lips. Sharp arrows of pleasure shot through Amy's body and she might have given in, accepted the thrill of the inevitable, if Beth had not been sitting on her face, brusquely forcing her brutish crack onto the girl's unwilling mouth. Amy was desperate but could do nothing. She tried to bite into Beth's large foul pubic lips, but couldn't open her mouth wide enough to do any damage. When she did bite, it was only a nip, and she heard Beth above her laugh and sigh exaggeratedly.
"You're a quick learner," Beth said. "Now I understand how you got to be at the head of the class. " The big woman laughed heartily at her own joke.
Amy thought she would have to pass out soon and blot from her mind the horrible scene in which she was so unwilling a participant. She regretted that she had ever decided to come to the party. When she looked up again, she saw the huge vagina of Beth descending on her like a black hairy spider. Terribly frightened now, Amy opened her mouth wide to scream; but before any sound could escape, Beth had lowered her cunt over the orifice. Amy gagged as she felt her lips smeared with Beth's vaginal lubricants. She closed her eyes and tried to lose consciousness; but she remained horribly awake, aware of all that was happening to her.
Between her legs, Joey was giving her the deluxe treatment. The blonde's tongue wandered from clit to anus, basting everything with her warm saliva. She explored the rich channel of Amy's cunt with the tip of her tongue, pushing a few tough fractions of an inch up that hole, sending jolts of pleasure through the helpless girl's body. The upper half of Amy's body was struggling to escape from the smothering cunt that covered her face; the lower half of her body was twitching in response to the blonde's artful manipulations. She was trapped between those two poles of pain and pleasure.
Beth seemed to be enjoying her forced domination of the auburn beauty. She told jokes to the ringside spectators at the same time she was grinding her vagina into A my's struggling face.
"Isn't it wonderful the way she squirms around?" Beth asked the on-lookers. "There's just something about seeing the mighty fallen that brings out the best in me. "
One of the girls laughed. "You mean the beast in you, don't you?"
Beth let out a terrifying mock growl and, lifting Amy's head by the auburn hair, shoved it harder against her juicy cunt.
Amy was praying to die now, praying that something would happen to deliver her from the situation she found herself in. But she wasn't quite prepared for the ending of the little act. Later, she couldn't justify it to herself.
Joey's head still worked away at Amy's crotch. She had expertly brought the pinned girl to a high pitch of excitement, an excitement that Amy hardly realized, as concerned as she was with the black hairy vagina that covered her face. It took only a little push now to bring Amy to a climax.
And the last thrust Joey provided by suddenly jamming her long finger up Amy's anus. Amy jumped when she felt the finger enter her asshole, and she almost succeeded in dislodging Beth from her perch.
After the initial shock, she went almost immediately into convulsions. She was almost out of her mind with pleasure. She jerked and flung her hips against Joey's lapping tongue. And, in the throes of her orgasm, the pinned girl's own tongue went wild, scooping up great sobs of cunt fluid from Beth's oppressive vagina. Her body was rebelling against her, forcing her to do things which her will had constantly rejected.
It was over in little more than a minute. Beth got off the girl's face and Joey ceased her licking and sucking. But the memory still remained.
Now, as Curt was kissing her passionately, the taste of Amy's own cunt on his lips brought her back to that terrible time in Beth's room. Yes, she recognized that taste; but it seemed different now, on Curt's lips, in a more relaxed, less oppressive situation. Amy accepted the memories, disgusting as they were. How strange that the letter from Joey had brought her back to her past, after she had almost successfully exorcised it.
But there was no time to relive the past; she was too much engaged in what was happening to her now. Curt's hands were kneading her breasts, teasing the hard red cones of her nipples. His head moved from her mouth down to her breasts, sucking the nipples into his mouth. Amy moaned.
There was a big change between the two scenes, the one she remembered, and the one taking place at the moment. Amy was still surprised at her own willingness now to allow this man to make love to her.
"Eat my pussy again," she said. Curt slid down between her legs once more.
Amy helpfully opened her crack, holding back the pink lips so that Curt could clearly see the long narrow channel of hot flesh ending in a keyhole-shaped orifice. He inclined his head and, with his long tongue, wiped the groove from top to bottom. He worked his hands under Amy's buttocks and lifted them, pushing Amy's pussy harder against his mouth, guiding her hairy crack so that he could more easily go about the business of satisfying the girl's desire. Amy's soft cheeks were pliable in his hands, and he squeezed and molded them while maneuvering his face around and into her crotch.
Amy was nearing the breaking point now, and Curt increased the bobbing of his head, scraping his tongue and lips along the tender sides of her moist channel. Then he held her hips in position and attacked the clit, nagging at it with his mouth, sucking it in, nipping it with his sharp teeth. Amy's body was beginning to move around on the sofa, twisting with the intensity of the pleasure.
His hands now left her butt and went up to her breasts. He tugged at her erect nipples and pulled on her breasts as if he meant to tear them out by the roots. Amy didn't even notice the rough treatment she was getting; she was tottering on the edge of her orgasm and needed only the touch of a feather to go plummeting headlong into that pleasurable dark.
Curt, sensing that she was ready to come, quit his sucking and grabbing. He stood up and quickly stripped off his underwear. Amy opened her eyes to see why he had stopped; she found herself staring at his thick strong penis, quivering in the air before her.
"I want you to suck my cock now," Curt told her.
Amy was startled. She instinctively curled up tight, shrinking back as if she meant to disappear into the couch. The alcohol did not seem to be working any more.
Curt came closer to her, shaking his cock in his hand. He smiled. "Try it-you'll like it."
"I can't," Amy said, her voice pleading in its tone.
But Curt didn't recognize the note of fear in her voice. After her previous boldness, he simply assumed she was being coy, girlish. It had happened to him before.
"Just open your mouth," he told her, "and I'll shove it in myself. After all, I want to have a little fun too."
Amy didn't know what to do. She realized she had been the one who started the whole business, the one who led him on. Yet now she wanted to stop; she wanted to hide from the scene she had created. But Curt did have a point: In a way, she owed him something for licking her pussy. And she was fascinated by the big cock waving in front of her face. It was like the snake charmer being mesmerized by the snake.
"I don't know what to do," she finally said. "I've never done anything like this before."
Now Curt wasn't sure if she was just being coy, or if she really was innocent, inexperienced in the ways of giving pleasure to a man. He decided to be safe and assume she was really that naive.
"It's easy," he said, gently stroking her hair. "All you have to do is take my cock into your mouth and lick it, suck it, run your tongue all over it. Here, just try it for a while."
He put the tip of his penis to her lips. Amy was still hesitant. But, not wanting to lose the man she thought she loved, she parted her lips and allowed him to push the purple knob of his penis into her mouth.
She had come a long way in a few hours. Only that morning, she had held a cock in her hands for the first time. Now she found herself actually admitting a fat penis to her virgin mouth. The reality wasn't as bad as she had feared. In fact, it was kind of comfortable, sucking on the head of Curt's penis. It's just like eating a lollipop, she told herself. Her tongue dashed around the slick surface of his head, thrilled at the texture of the skin there. It was silky smooth, not at all as she had imagined it would be. And there was no unpleasant taste either.
"That's it," Curt said. "Just go easy and do what comes naturally. You know I wouldn't hurt you."
He shifted his position, until he was sitting on her chest, leaning over her head, so that his cock fitted snugly in her mouth.
Encouraged, Amy let her tongue become more active, whipping around Curt's hard shaft, tickling the underside of the glans. At the same time, she had his huge hanging balls cupped in her soft hands, gently bouncing them, sometimes applying just enough pressure to make the young doctor moan above her.
Curt leaned forward a little, edging another inch into Amy's mouth. She accepted the extra cock, basting it in her saliva. The effects of the alcohol had worn off by now, and she knew exactly what she was doing, even if she couldn't explain exactly why she was doing it. Her mind turned once again to Joey, who was due to arrive in only a few hours. Amy wondered how many times Joey had sucked cock, whether Joey gave head better than she did, and if Joey gave a blow job to every man she went out with. Even here, with Curt's fat cock lodged in her mouth, Amy was still haunted by the image of Joey.
"Suck it harder," Curt said.
Amy renewed her efforts. She wrapped her lips tightly around his slick pole and pulled hard at his cockhead, as if she were taking a long drink from a whiskey bottle.
"Perfect," Curt said. "I didn't think you knew anything about giving head."
Amy was as surprised at her performance as he was. She squeezed his balls to show her appreciation for his comment. Curt was getting very excited now, and began to pump away at her mouth. Amy liked the way his cock felt sliding rapidly in and out of her mouth. She raised her head forward so that on his downward thrusts he was batting against the back of her mouth, threatening to enter her throat. At first, Amy felt as if she would gag; but she was soon accustomed to the pounding on her uvula, and welcomed each push. She began by wanting to give him pleasure, and wound up finding she could get pleasure from the act too.
Curt was ready to move on to the next phase now. He withdrew his penis from Amy's mouth and moved back down between her legs.
"Open up," he told Amy. She complied, thinking he was going to eat her again. But this time Curt took his cock in hand and placed the head at the entrance to her vagina. Then he rammed his cock against Amy's recalcitrant maidenhead.
Amy immediately jerked back.
"What are you doing?" she almost screamed.
Curt was puzzled. "I'm going to break through your hymen and screw you," he said.
"You can't do that," Amy said. "I won't let you do that to me!" She jumped up from the couch and grabbed her skirt, which she held up against her body, vainly trying to conceal her nakedness.
"Amy, I don't understand what the matter is," Curt said. "All I want to do is put my penis up your vagina. It's just a matter of busting that cherry first. I've got to knock out your hymen before we can do any fucking."
"There will be no fucking," Amy coldly told him.
"I can't believe this," Curt said. "Are you going to leave me sitting here with my cock ready to burst?"
Amy looked with disgust at the doctor's swollen member. "I don't care what you do with that," she said. "All I know is, you're not going to put it up me!"
"You're being ridiculous," Curt said, beginning to get angry. "I mean, I've already shoved almost all of it down your throat! How is that different from letting me put it up your vagina? How is your pussy better than your mouth?"
"I think you had better leave now, Doctor Henry," she said, an icy tone in her voice. She reached over to the chair and threw the clothing there over to Curt.
"Goddamn it!" he yelled, slamming the clothes down to the floor. "I'm not leaving-I'm not getting dressed-until I've had some kind of explanation from you. What are you, some kind of prick teaser? Have I done anything wrong? Look, Amy," he said more softly, "I can't just leave things hanging in the air like this. We've got to talk about it."
"There's nothing to talk about," Amy said. "I was nice to you and you betrayed my kindness by trying to take advantage of me. That's all there is to it."
Curt laughed in her face. "You've got to be kidding," he said. "I took advantage of you? Shit, you practically raped me when we got here. How do you explain that to yourself-by saying you were being nice to me? Oh, come on, Amy."
"Exactly," she said. "You pulled the oldest trick in the world, getting me drunk and then making indecent advances. I would probably have a pretty good legal case against you."
Curt shook his head in astonishment. "I've never seen you like this before," he said. "Maybe you did have too much to drink. You certainly aren't yourself right now."
"You're wrong Doctor Henry," Amy said. "I'm exactly myself right now. Earlier, when I let you do all those things to me, that was when I was someone else. Now, if you'll just get dressed and leave...."
"Oh, I'm going," Curt said; "but not before I get rid of this load you brought up. Do you mind?"
Amy looked on blankly as the young doctor sat down on the couch and began to masturbate himself. As a few drops of fluid from the prostate gland oozed out the tip of his cock, he spread them over the whole shaft, making his cock slippery. The friction from his fingers rubbing up and down the length of his penis had soon added another inch to that member.
Amy seemed to be loosening again. She was fascinated by what Curt was doing, and gradually moved closer to the point of action. She watched intently as he jerked away at his fat cock, running his fist over and over from tip to root.
In a few moments, Curt was leaning back, his eyes closed, his mouth open. Moans issued from his mouth, and his hands picked up speed as they worked on his cock. Then a tremor shook his body, and with a gasp, Curt was spewing his seed right into Amy's intense face.
The first gob of sperm hit Amy on her cheek and slid slowly down, until it dripped onto her breast. She snapped back quickly, saying "Oh!" Just as her mouth opened for the exclamation, another lump of sperm shot through her lips and landed on her tongue. Without thinking, she swallowed. The sperm tasted salty to her; it had the consistency of hot gruel. Before she could get control of herself, Curt's come had spotted her face, splashed over her firm breasts and matted her auburn hair.
"You ... you beast!" she screamed at him. "You've got your filthy stuff all over me!"
Curt had a lazy smile on his face. Sperm was still dribbling from the end of his cock, and he was not ready yet to stand up to Amy's rage.
Amy tried to wipe the sperm off as best she could with her blouse. Some came off, but more simply smeared across her body, leaving long sticky swaths. Frustrated, not quite knowing yet what had happened, she flung the gummy blouse into Curt's face.
He looked up at her and smiled. "Now, wouldn't you have rather had that hot load cascading into your cunt?"
"Animal!" she screamed. "You have no control over yourself. Why, even Webbley Caine would have more class than you had tonight!"
That brought Curt up mad. "Webbley Caine!" he exploded. "I wish you would take up with him and see what happens to you!"
"Maybe I will!" Amy shot back. She inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself down. When she had regained some composure, she said, "Now maybe you will collect your things and leave."
"With pleasure!" Curt said. He gathered up his clothes and began to dress himself. As he was pulling on his pants, he noticed for the first time how pocked Amy was with his sperm. He began to laugh; it started off slowly and built to an uncontrollable roar of delight. Over come with the absurdity of the situation, he fell back onto the sofa.
"Really," he said, "it beats everything, Amy. Isn't this the most stupid thing you've ever seen? Now, why can't we forget this whole night-mark it down to hysteria, or too much liquor, or something-and start over again tomorrow like two reasonably intelligent people who like each other a lot. What do you say?"
Amy was unmoved. "I want you out of here in five minutes, or I will call the police."
Curt lost his smile. "I really think there is something wrong with you," he said. "I think you should see a doctor, a psychiatrist. Do yourself a favor, and get help for that problem of yours."
"You have three minutes left," Amy said, looking at her watch. She couldn't understand what he was talking about. She needed help because she wouldn't let him rape her? God, she said to herself, men can come up with the strangest excuses for their behavior.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Curt said, knotting his tie. "Maybe by then we'll have both been able to make some sense out of what happened tonight, Amy."
He smoothed down his rumpled hair and walked over to the door. Amy occupied herself by cleaning up the glasses in the living room.
"Aren't you even going to say good-bye?" Curt asked.
Amy dumped the contents of the two ashtrays into her cupped palm and went into the kitchen. With a resigned sigh, Dr. Curt Henry opened the front door and left her apartment.
3
The next morning Amy woke up at seven o'clock with a splitting headache. She sat up in bed and angrily knocked in the pin on the boisterously clanging alarm clock.
Vague scenes from the night before flashed through her mind, but she could not make sense of any of them. She seemed to remember drinking more than she usually did. There was also a feeling that she had somehow been defded, though she could not exactly remember the circumstances. What she did recall was that she had to be at the hospital at eight that morning. Amy quickly jumped from bed and went into the bathroom to begin her washing up.
With the first blast of cold water from the shower, all the events of the preceding night came back to her. She fairly cringed with embarrassment when she thought of the way she had acted. In reviewing the situation, Amy decided that she was almost as much to blame as Curt had told her, though she thought too that any gentleman would not have persisted, or sprayed her with his unwelcome sperm. She shuddered at the image of herself vainly trying to wipe that hot gook from her face and hair. Amy made up her mind that she would go to Curt and apologize (and give him a chance to apologize) as soon as she got to the hospital.
She dressed and put on her makeup in record time. At two minutes of eight, she walked into the hospital and headed for her station to find out her duties for the day. They were relatively simple-it had been a slow night, and there were only two patients to take the place of the four who had left last evening-and Amy soon had the time to prowl the hallways, looking for Dr. Henry.
But before she could locate Curt, she ran into Dr. Webbley Caine.
"What's your hurry, Nurse Warner? Got another bed pan to empty?" The distinguished-looking, gray-haired man draped his arm over her shoulder, his elbow resting on her jutting breast.
"Not right now, Doctor Caine," she said, forcing a smile.
"Don't tell me you're hunting that curly-haired bastard again!" he said in mock astonishment. "You should treat yourself to someone more mature, more sophisticated."
"Like yourself?" Amy asked.
"Why, yes, now that you mention it," the doctor said. He grabbed her wrist so tightly that Amy was momentarily frightened of him. "I could introduce you to worlds of experience you've never dreamed of before."
"Thank you, but no thanks," she said, trying to wrench her wrist free. "Now, if you'll just let me go, I'll finish my rounds."
"Oh, you can't get off that easy, darling," the surgeon said. "Why, right now, I'd like to...."
But Amy never did hear what Dr. Webbley Caine would have liked to do. Before he could finish the sentence, Supervisor Clutchens came up and told Amy that there was a phone call waiting for her at the station.
"Thank you very much," Amy said, relieved to be free of her tormentor. She strode off down the hall.
"I'll take care of you later," Dr. Caine called to her retreating back.
Amy took the phone at the desk and pressed down the button that would connect her with the caller. "Hello," she said, Half-expecting to hear Curt's familiar voice.
"Hello, Amy? This is Joey."
Amy almost dropped the phone. In all the excitement of the morning, she had completely forgotten that Joey was due to arrive that day.
"I ... I...." she stammered. "What I'm trying to say, Josephine, is that I didn't expect you so soon."
"Well, silly, I'm here. You could at least sound glad to hear me even if you really aren't. I suppose you still haven't forgiven me for that last party in Beth's room right before graduation."
"Now you're the one who's being silly," Amy lied. "I've never even thought of that until you mentioned it just this minute." The sudden mention of that near rape again brought her mind back to the events of the night before. She stood there, holding the phone, wondering where Curt could be.
"Amy ... Amy, are you still there?" Joey's voice seemed awfully loud in the earpiece.
"Of course I'm still here," Amy said nastily. "Listen, where are you anyway? Still down at the airport? Or did you come by train?"
"Oh, I flew, naturally," the voice at the other end of the line said. "But I left the airport hours ago. You'll never guess where I am now."
"Josephine," Amy said, in her best reproving, maternal tone, "I don't have time to play games now. After all, I am on duty now."
"Touchy, touchy," Joey said. "Still the same old Amy Warner. Well, I might as well go ahead and tell you. I'm in your apartment!"
"My apartment!" Amy almost screamed. "How did you get in there? I left it only about an hour or so ago, and I made sure it was locked."
"Of course, it was locked. But I never did tell you about the time I went out with that burglar, did I? Well, to make a long story short, and to leave out the nasty parts that I'm sure you don't want to hear, among other things he taught me was how to pick locks. Yours was a cinch, honey. You really should get something a little more complicated."
"Well, now that you're camped in my place, what do you plan to do?" Amy was fed up with the whole thing already.
"Well, I plan to stay here until I can find a place of my own," Joey said. "If that's agreeable to you, of course. But look at it this way, if you can. We spent those years together in nursing school, what can another couple of weeks matter?"
Amy was not at all happy with the idea, but she had already prepared herself for something like this. And she knew it was no use telling Joey no.
Amy gave in, saying wearily, "Make yourself at home, Josephine. But only for two weeks while you find a place of your own. Don't get too comfortable."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Joey said cheerily. "Well, so long now, I've got to get myself unpacked and put away. I'll see you this evening." The dial tone was suddenly droning again in Amy's ear.
What you can't do anything about, you might as well forget, Amy told herself. She replaced the receiver in its cradle and went off again looking for Curt.
But after another hour of searching she still couldn't find him, and she could not ignore her work any longer. In desperation, she called his home but there was no answer there either. All sorts of terrible images flashed through her mind: Curt was hurt in an auto accident that morning; he died suddenly in his sleep; he cut his wrists with a razor blade this morning, in guilt for what he had done the night before. But she realized how silly all these images were. If any of these things had happened to Curt, he would be in the hospital by now; or at least, if he was already dead, the scuttlebutt from the nurses' stations would have passed the news down to her.
It was by accident finally that she found out where he was. And then she could have kicked herself for not remembering in the first place.
She was walking down the hall to see a patient who had rung for a nurse, when she overheard two of the other young residents conversing.
"Of all the bad luck," one was saying to the other. "This would have to be Curt's day off when I need to consult with him about the old lady in one-eighty-nine. I hope she manages to stay alive till he gets back tomorrow. I tried calling his apartment, but no one answers. This bastard must still be out from last night."
Amy smiled to herself as the two residents walked off down the hall. Of course, she said to herself, his day off. I should have realized. Still that doesn't tell me where he is, but at least I know he's safe.
She walked into the room that had rung, a smile spreading over her face. "Well, what can I do for you today?" she asked in her best professional voice.
The day dragged by for Amy. She couldn't wait for it to be over so that she could talk to Curt and try to straighten out what had happened last night. When five o'clock came, she hurriedly stripped off her sparkling white uniform (it was a mystery to the other nurses how Amy managed to keep her clothes spotless after a day of nursing drooling old men, emptying bed pans, and serving the pablum most of the patients had to eat), changed into her civies and ran down the stairs to the street. Because she was in such a hurry, she took a cab rather than wait for the cheaper, but slower, bus. She knew she would have to go home first, to see if the apartment was still standing after Joey moved into it.
Amy let herself in and walked into the living room. Joey was sitting on the sofa, nude, reading a magazine.
"Well, you really did make yourself at home," Amy said.
"Oh, hi," Joey answered, putting down the magazine. She stood up and her huge floppy breasts flopped like a cocker spaniel's ears.
"Suppose I had brought someone home with me, and we found you sitting here without a stitch of clothing on. Now wouldn't you be embarrassed?" Amy answered her own question: "No, of course, you wouldn't."
"As a matter-of-fact," the blonde said, "someone did stop by a little while after I called you at the hospital. He was very insistent about getting in; he dragged me out of a hot shower to answer his knocking-and ringing."
"He?" Amy said. She took off her coat and sat down in the chair opposite the sofa. "Who was it?"
"Well, he said he was a friend of yours, so I let him in. You know, he is very cute. He said his name was Curt."
"Curt!" Amy yelled, jumping out of the chair. "What did he want? What did he say?"
"Oh, he said he wanted to talk to you," Joey said. "Something about what happened last night."
Amy grew calmer and more wary of Joey. "Is that all he said-something about last night?"
Joey looked at her fingernails. "Oh, he also said I had a very nice body."
Amy gasped. "You don't mean you opened the door to him when you were naked?"
"Of course not, silly," Joey said.
Amy breathed easier.
"But the towel I was wearing did happen to fall off while I was showing him into the living room," Joey said. "He didn't seem to mind that at all. In fact, he seemed very interested in this undraped figure." She ran her hand down her side and thigh.
"Oh God," Amy said, covering her face in her hands. "I might have known this would happen. Can't you ever leave me alone?"
"Leave you alone?" Joey asked innocently. "Why, honey, I haven't done a thing! Just to show you how much I appreciate your letting me stay here, I even made dinner for tonight. All I have to do is stick it in the oven to warm it up."
Amy tried to pull herself together. "Thank you," she said in a strained voice. "I am feeling a little hungry."
"It'll be ready in a couple of minutes." Amy watched the blonde's sexy cheeks shift and sway as she walked to the kitchen.
Over the meatloaf, Joey suddenly said, "I didn't know you had taken up sucking cock, honey."
Amy choked on the morsel she was swallowing. "What?"
"Oh," Joey went on casually, "Curt mentioned you had given him a blow job last night."
"You said he didn't tell you anything about last night!"
"No, I didn't, honey," Joey said. "In fact, he told me quite a bit. Oh, he didn't want to at first, but I have ways of worming out information. And really, honey, you are still as ridiculous as you were back at nursing school. Imagine refusing to let that nice boy stick his fat cock up your cunt. As if he were trying to hurt you! Why, I'd let him fuck me any time he wanted to!"
Amy could hardly speak. She felt dirty, betrayed. She stuttered, "He ... he ... didn't make love to you, did he?"
"Of course not," Joey laughed. "But I could see he wanted to. He did like to play with my titties though. I let him do that for a while, just to calm him down. I didn't think you would mind. I mean, the boy probably needed to play with a little flesh after you kept him out of your precious cunt last night."
Amy threw her napkin down on the table. "Get out!" she yelled. "I want you out of here in three minutes!"
Joey continued to eat. "Relax," she said. "Now I have no intentions of taking away your boy friend, Amelia. And I also have no intention of leaving here until I can find a place of my own. So there's no need to scream and shout. Here," she said, passing a platter to Amy, "Have some more of this meatloaf."
Defeated, exhausted, Amy sank back in her seat.
Joey always could bring the worst out in her. She accepted the platter. "Thank you," she said.
In the following days, Amy tried to talk to Curt. But every time he saw her coming toward him down the hall, he managed to avoid her. Amy was hurt, and didn't quite know what was happening. Every now and then, when she turned a corner, she saw Joey and Curt deep in conversation. But she refused to believe that Curt would lower himself by going with such a common, promiscuous woman. The few occasions at home when she tried to approach Joey about her relationship with the curly-headed doctor, the blonde laughed off her questions, saying they only met under professional circumstances. Amy was totally in the dark, and there was nothing she could do about it.
About a week after Joey moved in, Amy had to work the late shift one night. But early in the shift, about six o'clock, she began to feel weak and nauseated. The supervisor on duty gave her permission to leave early, and Amy went straight home.
When she opened the door to her apartment, Amy thought she heard voices coming from the bedroom. As quietly as she could, she walked to the nearly closed bedroom door and peered in.
Joey was lying back on the bed, completely nude. On the side of the bed, Curt was seated, still dressed in his pants, pulling off his socks.
"Hurry up, honey," Joey was saying. "I can't wait to feel your big masculine body smothering mine. Get out of those pants and climb on top of me for a while."
Amy reeled with emotion. She could hardly believe her eyes. But when she looked again, the two were still there.
Curt had shed his trousers and was standing naked in front of Joey. His thick penis arched out from his groin.
"My, what a nice cock you have," Joey said, stroking the young doctor's long member. It quivered under her touch.
Amy, at her post behind the partly-closed door, didn't know what to do. It was the same situation she had found herself in so many times before at nursing school: She could neither look nor turn away. She felt that trapped feeling again, condemned to live out an incident in which she took no active part.
Joey had one hand stroking Curt's balls, the other hand massaging his cock. Amy found herself watching the scene as if she were attending a lecture. Though she felt nauseated and deserted, she was also taking notes on the proper way to please a man. Joey was an expert at doing that.
"Give that cock to Mama," Joey said-and pulled the doctor's penis into her open mouth. Her lips closed around the shaft like a vise. She had lifted the upper part of her body, her mouth stuck on Curt's penis, her arms around his waist, supporting her weight. Amy could see the blonde's head move back and forth, fucking the fat cock. Curt had his hands buried in Joey's hair, helping her blow him.
Amy edged the door open a little more. She was less careful now about making her presence known; and the two lovers could probably have seen her, if they weren't so wrapped up in their own business. Amy felt the sweat break out on her brow as Joey sucked on the encapsuled cock.
Joey seemed to be enjoying her work. Her lips made a smacking noise as they squeezed Curt's cock, teasing it to a greater erectness. The young doctor had a silly grin on his face as he pumped his hips back and forth, fucking the blonde's mobile mouth.
"If only Amy could see us now," he said, laughing loudly.
"Ohhh," Amy moaned, leaning heavily against the door sill. Neither of the two looked up, as the doctor was laughing too loudly for them to hear her. Amy felt awful, forced to witness her own humiliation.
Joey unwrapped her lips from Curt's thick penis.
"Why don't you eat me a little while I blow you," she said.
"Sure," Curt said. "I'd like a chance to get at that sweet pussy of yours. I'll bet your juices are flowing good already."
Curt laid on top of the blonde, his head in her crotch, his cock stuck in her mouth. He spread her puffy lips with his fingers, and slipped his slick tongue into her crack. Joey resumed her sucking on his penis.
Amy found herself rubbing her crotch against the bedroom door knob as she watched the two people on the bed minister to each other. And she hated herself for getting so involved in the very acts that were betraying her. As her soft mound pressed against the round knob, she noted all the minute details of the scene unfolding before her eyes.
Joey was tickling the tip of Curt's firm cock with the sharp end of her tongue. She flicked his sensitive hole, making him squirm with pleasure on top of her. He responded by batting her clit. Joey shivered underneath him. Then she escalated the action by slowly mounting her head on the shaft of his cock, pushing her head down on his pole until her lips were grazing the black pubic hair that grew at the base of his cock. His purple knob was nestled in her throat and Joey had to breathe noisily through her nose.
Curt, not to be outdone, agitated the blonde's clit with his tongue until it stood up like a small red thumb. Then, he jammed his index finger as far as it would go up her pussy. When he felt Joey fluttering her tongue along the underside of his cock at the same time as she sucked his knob further back into her throat, he pushed the index finger of his other hand up her asshole.
Amy could hardly stand it now. She had her skirts lifted and was straddling the doorknob, sinking her soft pussy down on its polished ball. Her head was craned to one side so that she wouldn't miss anything that was going on in the bedroom.
On the bed, the two entwined people had changed positions, so that now Curt was on the bottom and Joey was on top. But they hadn't let up any in their sucking. Joey was pushing the fat cock back and forth against the inside of her cheek, as if she were scrubbing her teeth. Curt had replaced the finger in her asshole with his tongue and was cleaning out that tight brown orifice. His index finger in her cunt was now joined by another finger, and they both churned the juices there into a rank froth.
Joey had removed his cock from her mouth and was it rubbing over her face. She tried to shove the tip up her nostrils but it was too big. She shut her eyes, and massaged her eyelids with the sticky tip. She smeared the ooze over her cheeks as if she were applying rouge.
Curt had returned to her clit and was nibbling at it tenderly, sending sharp thrills of pleasure through the blonde's body. He replaced his tongue by sticking his thumb up her asshole. It slid in easily now and plunged up the tight channel.
The show was making Amy's cunt leak. She had slipped the doorknob under her panties and was rubbing it against her throbbing clit. The shiny sphere was greasy with her juices and did not hurt as it pressed into her hot flesh. As Amy watched the performance in the bedroom, she became more inflamed and began to bang her cunt into the doorknob, letting the wide knob stretch her pubic lips and run smoothly along her oiled groove. She half realized what she was doing, but could not control herself now.
Joey finally tired of anointing herself with Curt's prostatic fluid and pushed his cock to one side.
"Enough of the preliminaries," she said. "Let's get down to the main attraction.! want to feel that big cock of yours rattling around in my pussy."
"I'm game," Curt said.
Joey stretched out on her back, a pillow fluffed up under her behind. Curt knelt down between her open thighs. The blonde reached down and grabbed his cock, which she guided to the entrance of her pussy. When the engorged head was positioned at the opening, she thrust her hips upward and trapped the knob inside her.
"Now it's up to you, honey," she said. "Just think of this as the fucking you should have given Amy. She's a nice girl, but I've got an even nicer pussy for you to unload in."
Curt threw himself on the blonde's resilient body, driving his cock deep inside her.
"Oh God," he moaned, "what a snug fit you are." He began to pump away while underneath him Joey rotated her cushioned hips.
Stuck on her doorknob, Amy watched in horror as Curt fucked her roommate. She had not wanted this to happen; she had expected the curly-headed resident to wait until she could accept the idea of admitting a man to her vagina. But apparently he couldn't wait-or Joey wouldn't let him wait. Amy groaned, and it wasn't only from the pressure the slippery doorknob was exerting on her cunt. She knew now that by refusing her body to Curt she had lost him to the ravenous blonde who was at this moment draining his fat cock.
Curt was grunting from the effort of banging the blonde's steaming cunt. He was raised on his outstretched arms over her like a canopy. He thought to himself that he should be getting more exercise-fucking could be too much like work if you weren't in good condition.
Joey wasn't in the least bit tired. All her exercise came from fucking and she managed to keep in very good shape. She was hardly sweating now as she pounded away against the groin hurling itself against her. When she felt the man on top of her begin to slow down, she dug her long red fingernails into his back, like a jockey spurring on his horse, and goaded him to fuck faster again.
Curt was panting heavily now. There was no denying the pleasure finding its way back to him through his sturdy cock, but he needed a change of pace. He didn't want to shoot his wad so soon; and he knew he would if he didn't ease off the straight ahead fucking for a while.
"Look," he told the blonde, "suppose we slack off a bit and try to preserve ourselves for a long haul."
Joey agreed. "You know what they do with a horse after it's all hot and sweaty from running a long race? They walk it around until it's calmed down a bit. Walk me around some, honey, until we can tap that reserve of energy you've got stored up in your mammoth balls."
Curt immediately stopped his pumping. Without uncoupling himself from Joey's sticky cunt, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. When his feet found firm footing, he swiveled the blonde around, and put his arms around her back. They were almost ready to launch themselves.
"Okay," he told her, "I want you to wrap your legs around my waist. You've got to help me support your body, or you'll just tear my cock out by the roots."
Joey did as he had asked. When Curt felt her securely fastened to his body, he leaned backwards, slowly drawing the blonde up in the air. Using his thigh muscles, he eased himself up until he was standing, Joey draped around his waist, her arms linked behind his neck. She was not as heavy as he had imagined she would be.
Still, she was no feather. Curt staggered around a bit until he had balanced his burden. Then he slipped his hands underneath her buttocks and hoisted her higher up, so that his prick was again snug inside her vaginal passage.
"This is not so bad," he told her. "Are you comfortable on your perch?"
"It's terrific," Joey said, throwing her head back and shaking her thick yellow mane. "You know, this position puts your cock further up my cunt. I like anything that will ram a cock this far up me."
"I don't mind that myself," Curt said, jiggling her butt until he could feel the hot flesh inside her cunt rippling against his cock. "Now that you're all hooked up like this, where do you want to go?"
Joey put a finger to her pouty lips. "Oh, let's see. How about riding me over to that window, and we can check up on the outside action."
Amy didn't understand the things she was seeing. She had watched in puzzlement as Curt stood up, lifting the blonde with him, like two mating bugs joined at the groin. Amy freed herself from the doorknob and stood watching, fascinated, as Curt carried Joey to the window.
The curtains were drawn, but Joey pulled them open in one quick move. There were still a few rays of sunlight left to turn the street a copper color. Since the apartment was on the second floor, they had a good view of what was happening below them. Then too, those in the street below could also catch a revealing glimpse of the actions in the apartment bedroom. At the moment though, there was no one in the street beneath the window.
"Satisfied?" Curt asked. He was pleased with himself again, now that he had carried this girl he was fucking on the end of his cock. His mastery of the present situation restored to him some of the manhood he felt he had lost when he tired so soon after they had begun fucking on the bed. He felt in control now, not like the night a week ago when Amy had stopped him from entering her virginal cunt.
"Not yet," Joey answered him. "I want to give some lucky soul a real treat this evening. Look!. Here comes someone now!"
Curt looked out the window. Just crossing the street into their block was a well-dressed man in his late forties. Joey hurriedly threw open the window. A cool rush of air flew in, suddenly chilling the sweat on Curt's body.
When the man was almost directly beneath the window, Joey stuck two fingers between her lips and whistled shrilly. The man, startled, looked around, saw no one, then looked up. When he did, he was even more startled to see Joey bouncing up and down on Curt's cock, while he tried to maintain his balance. With both of her hands, she was stuffing the nipple of one large loose breast into his mouth. After the initial shock, the same blase expression he had worn before came back onto the middle-aged man's face. He nodded politely to the couple performing in the window, then continued his march down the street.
"Well, that's a hell of a way to act," Joey said, disappointed that she hadn't caused more of a stir. "Let's get this show on the road again!"
Before Curt knew what was happening, she had let the upper half of her body fall back until her head was nearly sweeping the floor. There was quite a bit of strain on his rigid cock.
"Hey, what's going on?" he said.
"Don't rush me, honey. I know what I'm doing." When she had settled herself head-down, Joey unwrapped one leg from around his waist and hooked her ankle behind his neck. Then she did the same with the other leg. Her floppy tits shifted too with the new position, sliding down until her nipples were nudging her chin. Curt compared them with the firmer breasts that Amy sported, and decided he liked Amy's better, though he would take what he could get.
"How's this, honey?" Joey asked.
"I don't know how it is for you," Curt said, "but it's a little hard on my cock. My dick's too stiff to get bent around as it is now."
"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Joey said. "Here, take my hands."
Curt grabbed her hands and pulled her up to a sitting position again. But she was bent almost double, since now her legs were hooked behind his neck.
"Ooooff," she said. "This is as bad for me as that last position was for you. Maybe I can figure out something that will benefit us both."
Amy thought they were both crazy. She could perhaps see a reason for fucking-a reason for other people fucking, that is-but she could not in the world understand why any one would want to twist themselves into such awkward shapes. Her idea of lovemaking was admittedly limited, but she saw no place in it for human pretzels. And she wondered how Curt could let himself get involved with such silly things with Joey, who seemed at the moment all hanging hair and falling breasts.
"I've got it," Joey said. "Now just be patient and everything will work out fine."
Curt had no idea what she was about to do, but he was game, if it meant a change from the present ball-breaking position.
First, Joey leaned head down again, supporting herself by placing the palms of her hands on the carpeted floor. This done, she lifted her legs free of Curt's neck and held them straight up in the air.
"Now this is the tricky part," she told Curt. "Your job is to hold my waist so that we don't get disconnected."
Curt took a good grip on her waist. "All set," he said.
"Then here goes," the blonde said. With a rapid sideways movement, she spun around so that she was now facing the floor instead of facing Curt.
Her legs quickly wound around his waist again.
"Now I'm a wheelbarrow," she said.
"Fine," Curt said. "But where's the rain water? Where are the white chickens?"
"What?" Joey asked, mystified.
"Forget it," Curt said. "This is much better. My cock doesn't feel as if it's going to break off now."
"Good," Joey said, and pulled herself closer to Curt's body so that the tip of his cock was knocking against the entrance to her womb. "I can provide some of my own transportation like this too." She started to walk forward on her hands, her breasts hanging down and grazing the carpet. Curt went along behind her, steadying her swaying body.
Amy, from her vantage point behind the partly open door, watched the two of them wander around the small bedroom. She shook her head, wondering what could possess anyone to do such a thing. It's just so silly, she said to herself. I hope Joey breaks a fingernail.
The strangely coupled pair shuffled around the room for a while, the very nature of .their movement driving Curt's cock back and forth inside Joey's dripping cunt. Curt figured this was the best way he knew of getting exercise and enjoying himself at the same time; it was even better than playing volleyball at the beach.
But Joey couldn't keep it up forever. Soon her forearms were getting too tired to continue supporting her weight. She walked, hand over hand, to the bed, and pulled herself up onto it.
"End of the line," she said.
Curt let her drop down, then sat beside her. He too was ready by now to cut out the foolishness and get down to the steady uncomplicated fucking again. Joey was sort of drooping on the bed, her ass high in the air, her body in a crouch. Curt stood up behind her and inserted his slippery cock into her cunt. Then he pulled her back toward him and began to slam his belly up against her butt. Joey dipped her head down, resting it on the bed. Her ass was pushing upward to meet the young doctor's downward thrusts. They soon had a comfortable rhythm going.
After the fooling around stopped, Amy found herself again caught up in the bedroom action. She had to look closely now to see where Curt had placed his penis. At first, she thought he was going to stick it into Joey's tight asshole. For some reason, that excited her very much, though she also thought it would be a terrible thing to do. She was both disappointed and relieved to discover that Curt was simply using the back entrance to get into the blonde's pussy. Amy settled down behind the door to watch the rest of the action unfold.
Curt was primed to fuck after all those teasing preparations. He ground his groin into Joey's puffy pubic lips, trying to squeeze more of his cock up her sopping channel.
Joey was helping herself along by twiddling her own clit. She had a narrow view, between her hanging tits, of the action at her cunt. Mostly, she could see Curt's heavy sack, weighted down with his two huge balls, swinging between his legs as he rammed again and again into her cunt.
"Come on, honey," she urged him. "Fill my sweet pussy with your hard cock. Beat me with that big stick. I want to know I've been fucked!"
Curt was happy to oblige. He speeded up the rhythm of his strokes, whacking away at her hair-ringed hole, trying to break through to the soft chamber of her womb. He wasn't sure he could get that far in the position they were in, but was reluctant to suggest a change: they had moved so many times already. And besides, there were other benefits to the way they were presently coupled. He reared back and lunged into her, almost knocking her down.
"That's it, honey," the blonde said. "Just pretend I'm that holy cunt, Amy, and you're finally scooping up on her pure nookie."
Why does she hate me like that, Amy thought, hurt at what the blonde had just said. Just because I'm not a slutty tramp like she is, she thinks I don't have any feelings. I'm going in and break them up right now.
But Amy didn't move from her observation post. She had to watch the drama play out its final scene.
Curt was nearing the bursting point now. The friction against his cock by the walls of Joey's cunt was driving him mad. He hoped Joey was getting herself off by fiddling with her clit, because he knew when he was ready, there could be no waiting for her.
At the end of his battering cock, the blonde too was approaching the release point. Her twat burned from the banging it was getting, but it was the kind of burning she welcomed. Her fingers flew as they twisted, prodded, poked and otherwise manipulated her glowing clit. Then she felt her toes begin to shiver, and the tremor crept up her legs.
"Oh shit," she shouted, "here I go!"
Curt needed no encouragement. Only a few more jabs were necessary to make him boil over. One. Two. Three. Four. And the cum began to shoot in torrents from the tip of his swollen cock.
The two people on the bed were startled when the door suddenly swung back, and Amy burst in.
"That's enough!" Amy fairly screamed. "You've gone too far now, Curt Henry. I'll never have anything to do with you again. And as for you, you blonde whore, my own roommate, I want you to leave here immediately! You can come back tomorrow when I'm at work to pick up your things."
Joey laughed weirdly; she was panting heavily from the intensity of her orgasm. She simply ignored Amy and concentrated on the flow of warm sharp sensations that were flooding her body. Curt was shocked and embarrassed to be caught in such a position; but he too was so busy at the moment with his climax that he had no time to worry much about Amy's outburst. He didn't stop butting his cock up Joey's contracting channel.
Amy was outraged that they paid no attention to her. She ran up and, putting one hand on Joey's behind, the other hand on Curt's belly, attempted to push the young doctor out of the blonde's cunt.
"Stop it! Stop it!" she shouted. "You can't do this in my own bedroom! You can't humiliate me in my own apartment! Get away from here, Curt! You're so nasty, so disgusting!"
But she couldn't uncouple them. It was hard to get a hold on Joey anyway; she was thrashing like a speared whale on the bed. Her fingers still pulled at her clit, as she drove herself higher and higher to her astonishing climax.
Curt was inundating Joey's cunt with sperm. He didn't know where it was all coming from; he hadn't thought he had that much stored up inside himself. But there was no doubting the amount he had already pumped into that twitching hole. The white gruel was staring to back up now, having no place else to go. It dripped in sticky gobs onto the rumpled bed.
Exhausted from her anger, Amy now sat meekly on the bed and watched the two entwined lovers finish out their orgasms. She was helpless against the powers of sex. And since this was the first time she had ever seen a man and a woman fuck themselves to orgasm, she was also grudgingly interested in what was taking place a foot away from her.
Curt didn't know what to do with the sperm that was still spitting from the head of his unruly prick. There was no more room for it in Joey's slippery cavity, and he didn't like the idea of simply letting it run out onto the bed. That seemed almost a criminal waste of natural resources to him. There really seemed to be only one thing to do. He flipped Joey over onto her side, pulled out his spewing cock and shoved it into her mouth. She fastened onto it as if it were a lifeline and sucked the jetting cum back into her mouth, swallowing quickly to keep up with the steady flow. She snaked one hand down between his legs and milked his balls, anxious to drink up the last drop he had in him.
Amy was shocked by this latest maneuver.
"Why, you're nothing more than a vampire!" she told Joey. "If you had your way, you would suck men dry so that you could blow them away with a puff of your breath!"
Curt didn't seem to mind being sucked dry, though. He had his eyes tightly shut, his back arched, as his hot cum poured into the blonde's hungry mouth.
"Later, Amy," he said. "Right now, why don't you let a real woman go to work on me."
Amy was stunned to hear that; she could think of nothing to say. She simply stared on as Joey worked her mouth around Curt's spurting cock.
Joey was swallowing as fast as she could, but she still couldn't get ahead. So much cum was piling up in her mouth that sticky white threads were oozing down her chin from the corners where her lips could not contain the overflow. When she could, she darted out a tongue to lick the errant sperm back into her jaws.
But even Curt's seemingly inexhaustable supply of cum had to run out some time. Just when Joey was thinking she was about to drown in sperm, the flow slowed to a trickle, then stopped altogether. Curt pulled his cock out of her mouth. A bead of cum leaked out the tip and fell, splashing on the blonde's heavy breasts.
"I hope that's all," Amy said, finding her voice again. "Now, get out!"
Curt shook his shrinking cock, flinging another drop loose. This one landed on Amy's cheek. That brought her back to the night a week ago when she had refused Curt's attempt to fuck her, and he had masturbated, coating her with his sperm. She wondered how things would be different if she had given in to him then.
"Anything you say, honey," Joey said, gulping down her last mouthful of cum. "Although I don't see any reason why you should be so upset. This boy's got more than enough for both of us." She slapped Curt on the behind.
"You whore!" Amy said. "I let you in my apartment and you promptly steal away the man I'm in love with."
"Oh, Warner," Joey said, exasperated, "don't you even know you don't love this curly headed stud? Shit, if you loved him, you would have given him a crack at that precious pussy of yours long before I ever came on the scene. You're just mad that he wants to fuck somebody besides you."
Curt broke into the conversation. "It's not Joey's fault. It's just that she was willing to give me her body as well as her friendship. And she's aware how important that is-and how unimportant it is, too. You set too high a price on your cunt, but don't realize what physical love means to me. You're repressed, Amy, and should see one of the psychiatrists at the hospital. It's not normal to be so frightened of fucking."
Amy suddenly stood up and slapped the young doctor hard across the face. When her hand came away, the red imprint of it remained on his cheek.
"Get out! Get out! I never want to see either of you again!" Amy glared at both of them, then turned on her heel and stalked into the living room.
Joey followed her, her face thoughtful. "Say," she said to Amy, "I just thought of something. How long were you standing there watching us suck and fuck each other before you came in to break it up?"
Amy threw on her coat, grabbed her purse, and walked quickly to the front door. She flung it open, then turned around for her parting words.
"I watched just long enough to make myself sick. So, get out of here, you bitch, before I come back."
She slammed the door behind her and went out into the friendless night.
4
"What is the matter with you?" Supervisor Clutchens asked when Amy had, for the third time that day, changed the bed linen in Room 169.
Amy brushed her auburn hair back from her forehead. "Nothing's wrong," she said. "I just made a mistake, that's all."
"The same bed three times?" The large women shook her head and looked maternal. "Maybe you're tired, overworked. Why don't you go right now to Doctor Henry for a full check up?"
"Oh, no, I couldn't do that," Amy said quickly. "I ... I am really fine."
The supervisor did not look convinced. "Well, if anything else like that happens, I'm going to send you home for a good, long rest. Now, mind you, I'll be watching."
The large woman turned and went back to her duties. Amy felt listless; she didn't know what to do with herself. She decided she needed a coffee break first, though, and headed for the lounge on her floor.
She ran into Joey just leaving the lounge. The blonde was all smiles.
"Hello, Amy," she said. "Are you still mad at me?"
"I don't know what you mean, Josephine," Amy said icily. "I feel about you the same as I always did."
Joey patted her former roommate's shoulder. "It's not the end of the world, you know. And I still say there's plenty of that man for the two of us. But, say, you don't look at all well. No, really, you didn't pick up anything from one of these patients, did you?"
Amy smiled wanly at the solicitous blonde. "I'm not as friendly with the men as you are, Josephine. I'm perfectly well."
Joey, missing the bite in Amy's response, said, "Well, you look awful. You should at least take your temperature."
"Thank you for the professional advice," Amy said, and walked into the lounge. She drew a cup of coffee for herself, and sat down in one of the chairs in the corner, where she hoped she would not be bothered by anyone telling her how sick she looked.
It had been a miserable three days since she threw Joey out of the apartment, after catching her fucking Curt Henry. She had gone for a short walk that night and when she had come back they were gone as she had ordered. Amy had then thrown herself onto the bed where the blonde and the young doctor had just made love and cried herself to sleep.
She had been moping absentmindedly around the hospital ever since that night. Everyone expressed concern, and wanted to help; but there was really nothing anyone could do. Amy herself did not know what she could do to get out of the blue funk she was in. Curt seemed lost to her forever, and she thought she would never be happy again.
God, I'm getting morbid, she told herself, sitting here like this, whipping myself, feeling sorry for myself. I've got to forget about what happened, and start functioning as a human being again.
But how many times had she told herself the same thing in the last three days? Amy finished off her cup of coffee and left the lounge to go back to her rounds.
On her way down the long white corridor, she met Dr. Webbley Caine, still dressed in a bloody surgeon's apron he had just worn for an operation.
"You look like one of the walking dead," the suave middle-aged man told her.
"I swear I'll scream if one more person tells me that I am ill," Amy said, her voice rising, her hands trembling. She was on the verge of hysteria.
Dr. Caine looked genuinely worried about her. He laid his hand on her shoulder, and for the first time since she had known him, the gesture seemed to have no sexual overtones.
"You are ill," Caine said in his best authoritarian manner. Then sympathy softened his tone, and he said, "I must ask you to let me examine you. We can't have our nurses running around here in bad health. What would we poor helpless doctors do without your services?"
Amy was disarmed with his new manner; it was almost paternal. She was feeling unusually tired and run-down. Perhaps there really was something wrong with her, as everyone had been telling her....
"Come with me," he said, gently taking hold of her arm. "I know where there is an empty room on this floor."
Amy allowed herself to be led down the hall, around a corner, into a room which had been vacated early that morning. She was a little dazed and didn't quite understand what was going on; but she dimly understood that Dr. Caine was trying to help her. She felt foolish now about the way she had treated him before, and wished that at least once she had accepted his invitation to dinner.
"Now you just wait here one minute," he said, "and I'll be back with my bag."
Amy looked around the room after the doctor left. It was just another typical hospital room, no different than any of the others she had been in since she came to work at Midland Hospital. She sat down on the edge of the bed, kicked off her shoes, and immediately felt a little better. She felt she was in safe hands now.
True to his word, the doctor was back in a short time. He threw his black bag on the bed beside Amy.
"Well, see," he said, "you've already begun to relax."
Amy smiled up at him. She could understand now why so many society women vied for his attention, and concocted abdominal pains that required surgical correction. Dr. Webbley Caine was both a popular and a medical success.
"I want to thank you for being so kind to me, Doctor Caine," Amy said. She blushed at making so formal a speech.
"There's no need to be so ceremonial," the gray-haired man said. "Why don't you call me Webb? All my friends do, and you should soon be on very familiar terms with me."
"I think I'll just call you Webbley, if you don't mind?" Amy said.
"That will be perfect," the surgeon said. "My mother always called me Webbley-mainly, I think, because that was her maiden name." He laughed and opened his heavy black bag. "Now, why don't you unbutton your uniform and let me listen to your chest?"
Amy saw nothing unusual in the request. She undid her top three buttons, then cringed as the cold sensor of the stethoscope came into contact with her warm flesh.
Dr. Caine listened for a moment, then said, "Everything seems okay in the front. Would you please pull down the top of your uniform so that I can hear your back too?"
Amy had to unbutton some more before she could pull the top down from her shoulders. She felt a little naked now, sitting there on the edge of the bed, with only her bra covering her from the waist up.
"You have a lovely back," the surgeon said as he again probed her with his sensitive listening device. "Such exquisite shoulderblades; they're like the wings of an angel!"
Amy didn't know how to respond, so she said nothing.
"Fine there too," Caine said in a satisfied tone of voice. "So we move on to the next step. I want you to remove your uniform and lie down on the bed, so that I can check your reflexes and your abdomen."
Amy hesitated. "I ... I don't know about that," she said. "Shouldn't there be a nurse present when I undress completely? I think that is proper procedure."
"Of course it is," the doctor said good-naturedly. "And aren't you a nurse? Besides, you are only going to take off your uniform. Your private parts will remain covered." He patted her shoulder reassuringly.
"Oh, well...." Amy obediently stripped down to her bra and panties, and stretched out on the bed.
Dr. Caine began to knead her stomach, constantly asking, "Does it hurt here? Here?" His hands moved lower, down her abdomen to her flat belly, then below that to the spot where a few wisps of auburn pubic hair curled out of the top of her panties. Amy gasped, but said nothing, as his fingers pried open the elastic of her panties and crawled beneath the satiny material, prodding her richly-thatched pubic mound. Then one finger slipped into the slit of her pussy, and Amy realized for the first time that she was soaking wet down there.
"Ooohh," she moaned, turning her head to the side.
"Did that hurt?" the gray-haired man asked solicitously.
"No," Amy answered, embarrassed at her pussy's betrayal. "It ... it feels good."
"Raise your hips, please," the doctor said.
Amy did as he asked and was somehow not very surprised when Dr. Caine slipped her panties down her thighs, over her ankles, and tossed them on the bedside chair.
"There," he said. "I'll bet that feels better already."
"Yes, Doctor," Amy said, in the voice of a child.
"Please, call me Webbley," he insisted again. "And now, let's check for lumps. Sit up for a second, please."
Amy obeyed his command immediately. She did not flinch at all as he reached behind her and undid the snaps on her bra. The bra fell away from her chest, and her tits bounded out, free and firm. The doctor tossed the bra beside her panties on the chair.
"Beautiful," Webbley said appreciatively. With the eye of a connoisseur, he appraised the smooth tapering swells of her tits. Her nipples tilted up slightly; both were as full and red as plums. He placed one hand on each breast, his fingers sinking into the resilient mounds. As he felt her springy tits, the palms of his hands rubbed back and forth across her nipples, causing them to shrivel, then grow hard.
Amy sucked in her breath as the manipulations continued. She felt herself giving in completely to the doctor's firm but gentle manner. She did not feel at all frightened now as he caressed her breasts.
"No lumps there," Webbley said, releasing her tits. "In fact, your breasts are in excellent condition. They may just be the finest pair I've ever seen."
"Thank you," Amy said-and immediately felt stupid. She didn't quite know what was going on; but she did know that she felt much better than she had before.
"I think we're ready for the next step," Webbley said. "Just sit on the edge of the bed and lie back, please."
Amy slumped down on the bed, her legs hanging over the side. The surgeon grabbed her by the knees and spread her legs apart, hooking the ankles on the edge of the bed. With her thighs parted this way, Amy felt very vulnerable, but she still had confidence in Webbley's actions.
"Now tell me if this hurts," he said, beginning to slowly rotate his finger up her slippery cunt.
When the tip of his finger ran into Amy's soft blockade, she cried out, "Stop! That hurts."
He wiggled his finger inside her snatch. "Hhmmm...." he said. "We'll have to do something about that." He gently stroked her pink inner flesh, matting down also the soft auburn hairs that -lined her pubic lips.
"You have a very snug vagina," Webbley said. "I think it needs a little loosening up. Just lie back, relax, and enjoy this."
Caine kneeled on the floor. His head came up right between her outspread legs. First, he sniffed around her crotch, inhaling the heady aroma that her privates gave off. Then he thrust out a tongue and began to tentatively lap her hair-encircled slit. His tongue probed until it found her tight hole and entered it. His nose meanwhile nuzzled her throbbing clit.
Amy felt a warm rush enter her. It was the same feeling she had the night Curt ate her pussy. Amy thought there could be no pleasure to equal that of having her pussy eaten.
Caine twirled his tongue inside the narrow passage of her hole, repeatedly prodding her hymen. Amy tensed at first whenever he did that; but soon she seemed to grow accustomed to it, and did not tighten up when his tongue pushed against that obstructive membrane.
When the surgeon felt she was sufficiently tamed on that point, he withdrew his probing organ from her snatch, and moved upward to her clit. In the beginning, he refused to actually touch, but instead licked all around it, teasing Amy until she reached down and pushed his head harder against her open cunt. Then Caine tickled her clit with the tip of his tongue until it tingled and trembled. He polished it to a ruby brightness with his tongue, making Amy squirm on the bed.
Next he began to nibble on her red clit, letting the sharp edges of his teeth catch and pull it. Amy couldn't get enough of that; she wrapped her legs around his neck, so tightly that Caine at first could hardly find room to breathe. He had his mouth open and pressed to her flowing cunt, slurping all the juices that were being rapidly discharged. Amy whimpered as her hot nub of a clit pulsed under the onslaught of Caine's tongue.
Then Amy did something she had never done before. Caught up in the intense excitement of the situation, she began to play with her own breasts. She twiddled her projecting nipples, tugging at them until they rose like hard red towers. Her tits, even when she was lying down, rose firmly from her chest. They quivered as Amy pinched and molded her nipples. She tried to gather her tits and stuff the nipples into her mouth. But no matter how hard she pushed, or how far down she bent her head, she could not make the connection. Amy was disappointed at first, for she could not accomplish what she had seen Joey do that night she caught her and Curt fucking. But then she realized that Joey could suck her own nipples only because her tits were so loose and baggy. Amy felt glad then she had firmer, less elastic breasts.
Caine was still swabbing her puffy cuntlips, chewing on them, nagging them with his ceaseless tongue. He moved down her satiny slit and licked her asshole. Amy wasn't sure she liked that warm wet feeling on her anus, but a few licks convinced her that it was only a pleasure she had to acquire a taste for. In fact, she soon felt her legs become weak from sensual delight as Webbley's tongue worked hard to plow up her dark rear tunnel. It felt so good that any qualms she had at first seemed irrelevant.
The cavern between her thighs was now streaming with tangy fluids, coating her thighs and Caine's face. Amy moaned as Webbley's tongue slithered up and down her hot crack, his teeth sinking into the meaty folds of skin that formed the banks of her musky river.
They had reached a kind of plateau and Webbley knew he had to move on to something else in order not to dissipate the erotic atmosphere he had created.
"It's time to take your temperature," Caine said.
Amy looked at him, puzzled. She wondered why he would want to stick a thermometer in her mouth now. She watched with interest as he quickly stripped off his surgical smock, his shirt and pants. There was a weighty bulge in his underwear. Then that last piece of clothing fell to the floor and Amy was staring at a long slim tensile penis hanging from the gray-haired surgeon's crotch. How very European and sophisticated his penis looks, Amy thought to herself; she didn't know what she meant by that, but it seemed to describe Caine's panatella-like uncircumcised cock.
"Now let's see how hot you really are," Caine said.
Before her eyes, his cock began to grow, the tip pushing past its hood of skin and staring her right in the eye. The head was already moist; it gleamed, a light purple in color.
"Take it," Caine said.
Amy reached out a hand and grasped the swarthy shaft. It felt hard, alive. She ran her hand down the long elegant pole to the base where fine clumps of black-and-silver hair sprouted. And beneath that, there hung his swinging scrotum, dragged down by the weight of the two balls revolving in their sack. She cupped the sack, liking the heft of that heavy bag in her hand.
"Kneel down in front of me," the surgeon said. "You know what to do. I expect great things from you. I can assure you, you will soon be well again."
Amy knew what to do. She remembered that night when Curt had made her take his fat cock into her mouth. She thought it would be even easier to suck Webbley Caine's penis-it looked so refined and genteel. She came off the bed and took her place on her knees in front of him. His cock trembled by her mouth, the head now and then brushing against her lips. For some reason, this time the idea of taking a cock into her mouth and sucking on it did not at all seem repulsive to her. Amy was almost mesmerized as the slim rod swayed in front of her. She felt as if she were entirely under Caine's power; and he would never ask her to do anything unless it would be beneficial to herself. With that attitude, she eagerly encased the head of Caine's cock in her warm mouth.
Webbley's purple knob felt spongy as it came into contact with her tongue. But it was also very strong and laid on her taste organ like a thick tongue depressor. Amy sucked hard on his lubricated cock, mingling her saliva with the fluids that coated his shaft. The cock seemed to become more bloated as she worked on it; she had to open her jaws a little more to accommodate the expanded girth of the surgeon's cock. What had seemed at first to be so elegantly slim had now swelled to animalistic proportions. She began to feel scared, wondering how large the cock would get before it reached its limit. Already the meaty column was making it hard for her to breathe through her mouth.
Amy found she was stimulated by the presence of the cock in her mouth; she even enjoyed the taste of the fluid leaking onto her tongue from the tip of the cock. Caine began to move his prick slowly back and forth, a short space only, fucking her mouth. Amy tightened her lips around the limber pole, liking the friction of cock against her mouth. Caine's stiff cock began to leak more, and the strange-tasting juice trickled back along her tongue and down her throat.
The surgeon seemed to be quietly nudging more cock into her mouth; after a couple of minutes of the easy, steady mouth fucking, Amy discovered she had about three inches of prick in her oral cavity. The head of his cock was tickling her uvula. She wondered why she didn't have to gag; instead of retching, she sucked harder, urging him to ram more cock into her mouth. Caine obliged, and the pressure soon drove the head of his prick past the little swinging gate of her uvula and down into her mucous-slick throat. Amy accepted her new boarder with pleasure, clamping her lips tighter on his shaft, straining to take the whole length into her mouth. The bulbous end of the cock was jammed inside her throat and she had to breathe noisily through her nose, but she seemed to mind none of the inconvenience.
"Just as I thought," Caine said. "You wanted this all along. And to think, I considered giving up on you. That proves the worth of perseverance. Take a good look at this cock you're so willingly sucking. It has rested in some of the most fashionable mouths in this city!"
Caine pulled out his swollen organ and waggled it in her face. It looked so appetizing, Amy leaned forward and zealously seized it in her mouth again. She was reluctant to give it up so soon.
"So you're developing a real taste for cock, huh?" Caine said. "Well, don't worry, I'll be able to supply enough to last you for three lifetimes!"
Amy, of course, couldn't speak with his cock in her mouth, but she responded passionately by sucking on the organ, siphoning off the saline solution and swallowing it down. She gobbled strenuously, working the entire cock back into her mouth until her jaws were full and she was kissing the clumps of hair that surrounded the base of his cock. She simply couldn't get enough dick to satisfy her.
"Go ahead," Caine laughed, "take it all! This is meat to nourish the weakest body, the elixir of the gods, cock for the elect! Do you know how many women each week beg me to let them suck this old cock? Consider yourself lucky, and suck away!"
Amy gurgled as cock juice dripped down her throat. Caine kept hammering away at her, stretching the walls of her throat, presenting a long pole of male meat for her tongue to bathe. Amy milked him eagerly, anxious to not lose a drop of the fluid that seeped from his buried cock.
But Caine was equally anxious not to come in her mouth. He wanted the luxury of shooting his load into her virgin cunt. He was terribly excited by the idea of taking her cherry, and didn't doubt for a moment that he could do it. Though she had obviously been strong enough, or clever enough, to keep her hymen intact until now, he was certain she could not withstand his combination of force and charm. He was determined to rid her of the last obstacle to her happiness.
"Enough," he said, backing out from between her jaws. "Now we perform the final rite, the ceremony of the sacrificial virgin." He helped her remount the altar of the bed, and arranged her there, legs spread wide apart. When she was ready, Caine took his position at the place where her thighs joined the bulk of her trim body. The tip of his cock nudged her puffy pussylips, edging them open, releasing the strong aroma that lurked there. She was primed-the juices flowed out, wetting her upper thighs.
Caine ran his hand over her flat naked belly, admiring her firm flesh. The hand trailed down to the auburn whiskers that adorned her mound of Venus. He ruffled the thatch, then slipped down to the pulsing clit that was suffering for a touch. Amy jerked with pleasure as he massaged that marker of her sexual readiness.
"All systems go," Caine said. "If this hurts at first, think of it as the necessary pain that must accompany the most intense pleasure you have ever felt in your young life. I am going to destroy the last block to your happiness. I am going to fuck you, my dear."
Caine lunged forward with his cock, using it as a battering ram against Amy's thick membrane. But it was stopped short; the hymen did not give way.
"You are very tough, my dear," the surgeon said. "Or maybe it is just that I'm getting too old to break in virgins...."
He threw himself harder against her this time, and it seemed to him that the hymen budged a little; but still it did not break. Caine kept knocking against the obstacle, and each time it gave a little more.
"You've got to help some, too," Caine said, panting.
Amy ground her hips upward, meeting Caine thrust for thrust. She wanted him to succeed too; she wanted to be rid of that tight piece of skin that set her apart from all the other women she knew. The friction from even the short length of cock inside her was so wonderful, Amy knew it would be fantastically exciting to be fucked by the entire prick. She writhed energetically under Caine, feeling a bit frustrated that he couldn't open her up sooner.
Caine sawed away at her. With her cooperation, he felt the membrane loosen more and more, until finally it began to tear; once he got the head of his cock past the hymen, it was all over.
Amy gasped as she felt the breakthrough come. It was as though a cold blast of air had hit her. There was some pain from the tearing; but the pleasure from the cock stroking her whole pussy hole overwhelmed the pain.
Caine breathed a sigh of relief as he felt his cock penetrate the hymen. He was almost ready to lose faith in his ability to initiate virgins into the mysteries of sex. Now that he had popped her cherry, he settled down to a good steady fucking, filling her cunt with even, relentless strokes.
Amy felt she had really arrived now. She couldn't imagine why she had objected to being fucked for so many years. Her head felt light, her cunt felt light; she was happy to submit to the authority of the surgeon's pumping cock. She was afloat in a sea of sensations.
Caine glided in and out of her gaping maw, whetting Amy's appetite for more fucking, but taking the edge off of his desire for straight ahead fucking. This might have been new to her, but it was old hat to him, boring stuff that he engaged in for the sake of being polite. He had other things in store for Amy. But he considered it would be best to continue as he was for a while, until she was used to the feel of a prick sawing away at her just opened pussy.
Amy was jerking her hips, trying to capture his cock deeper inside herself. Now that she had gone the first step, she wanted him totally. Her cunt was throbbing from the cock burrowing inside her dark tunnel. The hospital bed was flecked with blood from the bursting of the hymen, but neither of them cared. Her nerves jumped each time she felt the rigid pole slide into her cunt or the heavy sac slap against her ass. Amy would have gone on fucking this way forever, had she been allowed to.
But the gray-haired doctor had lost all interest in simply sticking his cock into her creamy cunt.
"Turn over," he said to her. "There are a few more tricks I want to show you."
Grunting, Amy reluctantly did as she was told. She hoped his new "trick" would give her as much pleasure as the old. She was like a convert to a religion-holier, more zealous than members of long-standing.
When she was on her belly, Caine grabbed her by the hips and boosted them into the air. Then he took his cock and placed the purple corona at the tight opening of her asshole.
"What are you doing?" Amy asked, suddenly frightened.
"Now that I've taken one cherry, I am going to make the conquest complete," Caine said. "I'm going to plow my cock up your fertile, virgin asshole. I am going to bugger you, my dear."
Amy was shocked. "You can't do that! It's perverse! I won't let you!" She collapsed on the bed, and guarded her anus with her hands.
The surgeon sat there, amused. "Now, now, child," he said, "if you could stand the pain of losing your cherry, you can withstand the pleasure of having a cock scoot up your asshole. There's nothing to it, really-you just stick your ass in the air, and I drill my prick up to your churning bowels."
But Amy was having none of it. Her brain began to come alive again, and she realized for the first time what had happened to her. Before then, the pleasures of fucking had obscured the realities of the situation.
"Why, I'm not a virgin anymore!" she gasped.
Caine laughed at her. "My dear, are you dense or something? Didn't you feel that troublesome membrane break and my cock go sliding up your snatch?"
"Yes," Amy said, still dumfounded about what had happened. "I felt it, and I liked it, but I didn't realize what was going on. Not really, I mean...."
"Are you accusing me of rape, my dear?" Caine chuckled. "You wrong me. I have never had to resort to force to enter a slimy cunt. Women throw themselves at me, and I sometimes allow them the pleasure of my body."
Amy jumped from the bed. "You egomaniac!" she shouted at him. "How did I ever let you rob me of my virginity? I must have been crazy!"
"You are crazy," the surgeon laughed. "But you are still a delightful fuck. In fact, I'll have to tell Doctor Curt Henry just how snug your pussy is. He may also be interested in the enthusiastic manner with which you suck cock."
"Oh no, oh no!" Amy said. "You wouldn't do that. I could never face him again! Please say you're kidding!"
"I am perfectly serious, my dear," Caine said. "I have every intention of comparing notes with him about the features of your lovemaking we like best. Would you say he was more partial to your fucking than your sucking? Oh, that's right, he couldn't be, since I was obviously the first one who penetrated that hot cunt of yours. Oh, we will have a delightful conversation, that curly headed bastard and myself!"
Amy was near hysteria. Why? Why, she berated herself, didn't I let Curt fuck me when he wanted to? Look at the position I've got myself into now. She didn't know what she should do.
The surgeon seemed very composed, as much in command of himself as he usually was.
"I see you are troubled by something," he want on, in his arch humor. "You probably think of yourself as a 'fallen woman.' That's ridiculous, of course-but then you are ridiculous. However, I will try to help you out of your dilemma."
"Help me!" Amy shouted at him. "Help me! You're the one who did this to me! I should scream now and tell them you raped me."
"Go ahead, my dear. Who would believe you? Who would believe that a girl of your physical attributes, your age, could still be a virgin?"
Amy saw he was right. There was no way for her to turn; Webbley Caine held all the cards. She sat down on the hard hospital chair and started to cry.
Caine went over to her and put a paternal arm around her shoulders.
"It's not that bad, my dear," he said. "There is something you can do to clear up the whole messy situation. We shall each have to compromise, of course. But then, that is life, isn't it?"
Amy was not comforted by either his arm or his words. She did not trust him. She cursed herself for not relying on her first impressions of the man.
She was ridiculous, she told herself, for letting herself be taken in by such a smooth talker. Still, she might as well hear what he had to say.
"I'm listening," she said, her voice cracking with emotion. "Go ahead."
"Ah, the appeal of reason is not completely lost on you, I see. Good, good. Now, this is my offer. I will refrain from speaking to anyone about what happened here today. The only condition-and it is a small condition, of great benefit to yourself-the only condition is that you come and live in my country home with me for a period of six weeks, or until I grow tired of you, whichever comes first. Can we agree on those conditions?"
"You must be crazy!" Amy said in disbelief. "Do you actually think, after what you have done to me, that I will voluntarily come live with you-be at your beck and call for six weeks? I reject your offer!"
"Very well then," Caine said. He began to pull on his pants. "My path is clear. I will go speak to your Doctor Curt Henry immediately. I am sure he will be happy to have this information about you."
"No, no, you can't!" Amy said, rising from the chair and clutching the surgeon. "I will lose him forever!"
"That hardly matters to me," Caine said. "Now, please release me so that I can get dressed."
Amy let go of him and slumped back in the chair. What choice did she have? She could lose Curt for six weeks by going away with Webbley Caine. Or she could lose him forever by staying and letting Caine tell Curt everything. What choice did she have?
"How can I be sure you won't tell Curt after I've gone with you?" Amy asked.
"Well, of course, you can't be sure, my dear," the surgeon said. "But why should I tell him then? I would have nothing to gain, and the fool might even decide to play Sir Galahad and try to rescue you. You see, it might cause me more trouble than you are worth."
Amy did not like the idea that she might need rescuing. But what Caine said made sense to her. And she was in no position to exact guarantees from him now. She hung her head down, her mind made up.
"I'll go," she said softly.
"Good," Caine said, continuing to dress. "I thought you would see things my way. Now get yourself dressed. I want to leave right away, before anyone decides to bring a patient in here."
"But I can't go this minute!" Amy said. "I'm on duty right now."
"Yes, and how conscientious you are on the job!" Caine laughed. "Don't worry. I'll tell the supervisor about the unexpected death of your last living relative. She will be only too happy to give you a six-week leave of absence while you straighten out the poor departed lady's estate. Hurry, and I will meet you in my car."
Dr. Webbley Caine picked up his black bag and walked out into the white corridor.
"Oh, dear God," Amy said aloud to the room. "Oh, God!"
5
Amy looked out the window of her upstairs bedroom. The garden below was ablaze with flowers. She could enjoy that, at least-the reds and golds and blues and purples against the dark green of the trees. But nothing else about Webbley Caine's country house gave her any pleasure. She was virtually a prisoner, not allowed to leave the carefully landscaped grounds; when Caine was in town at the hospital, his butler watched her every move, reporting in full later to the master.
Amy turned away from the window and went back to the book she had left on her bed. There was not much for her to do during the day; Caine forbid her the use of a television, and there was no phone she could use without first getting permission from Caine or one of the servants. She was effectively cut off from the world outside the estate.
Mostly, Amy slept during the day-she had to, if she wanted to get any sleep at all. At night, Caine had other plans for her.
In the beginning, it wasn't so bad. She enjoyed the clear air and quiet of country living. Caine was kind to her, always asking if she was comfortable, buying her new exotic clothes. That lasted for the first week. Then the gray-haired doctor began to act strange. He had not tried to make love to her after the initial conquest; but now he started to fondle her again, the way he had when she first came to Midland Hospital. Soon, he asked her to spend the night in his bedroom. Amy refused.
From that refusal on, Caine began to change. Nothing had really happened to her yet, but she felt a vague dread of what was to come. She no longer felt safe in that large isolated house.
It was late afternoon now, and Amy could not get interested in her book. She was nervous. Caine, before he left that morning, had promised her an amusing evening. Amy did not like the look in his eyes when he said that. She knew the night would be amusing for him, but hell for her. What made it worse was the waiting, the not knowing what was going to happen. She assumed that sex would play a large part in the night's activities, but she tried not to think too much about what could happen to her. She lay back on the bed, wiped her mind blank, and fell into a deep sleep.
Burton, the surgeon's well-muscled black butler, woke Amy at eight o'clock. She sat up in bed with a start, fearing the worse.
Burton smiled down at her. "Massa Caine say you got to come down and eat something. He say, you going to have one big night ahead of you." His lips pulled back, baring two rows of huge gleaming white teeth that looked like tombstones.
"Oh, all right," Amy said peevishly, relieved that she could put off the night's disaster for a while. "I'll be right down."
She put on one of the low-cut evening gowns Caine had bought for her. He insisted that she dress for dinner. The gown she chose for the night was made of some kind of very sheer material that made visible the pale pink panties she was wearing. The back plunged down to the top of her buttocks. Amy felt practically naked, but all of the other dresses he had chosen for her were just as revealing.
She picked up her empty evening purse and went down the long stairway to the dining room.
"Ah, there you are," Caine said, rising from his chair at the table. "I hope you slept well."
"Yes, thank you," Amy said politely. There was no use making him angry now; she could only hurt herself by doing that.
"You look very lovely tonight," Caine said, admiring her opaquely clothed figure. He touched the nipple that poked into the sheer fabric. Despite herself, Amy felt a tremor of excitement quicken her body. On its own, her red bulb responded to Caine's touch; it jutted out stiff and hard, straining the sheer material of the dress. Amy turned abruptly and walked to her own place at the opposite end of the table. Caine waited until she was seated, then sat down himself, and nodded to Burton to bring on the food.
Burton disappeared and came back with a tray bearing numerous dishes of viands. This he set down before Caine, who served himself, but made no move to pass the food on to Amy. She sat silent, wondering what was going on.
Finally, as she began to grow very hungry, smelling the enticing aroma of the food by Caine, she plucked up enough courage to ask him, "Don't I get to eat tonight?"
Caine looked up from his dinner, as if he were surprised that everything was not normal. "Why, of course, my dear. Burton will bring your dinner in very soon. Patience, dear, and you will be very satisfied."
Amy did not like the smile on his face as he said that. Still, she could do nothing but wait. She poured herself a glass of wine and tried to act unconcerned until Burton arrived with her dinner.
In a couple of minutes Burton came back in, holding in front of him a silver platter covered with a beautifully engraved silver dome. He held it very close to his body, as if he were fearful of dropping it. Amy sighed when she saw him come in; apparently, Caine had ordered the cook to prepare a special dish for her. She hoped it was good, because she was famished.
Burton stood expectantly by her side. Caine glanced up, put down his fork, and said, "Well, my dear, go ahead and open the dish. You look very hungry."
"I am," Amy said,-and lifted the cover from the silver platter.
There, on the serving plate, garnished with parsley and cherry tomatoes, lay Burton's mammoth cock. Amy gasped and dropped the beautiful silver lid, which clattered across the polished dining room floor.
"I hope you enjoy your dinner, dear," Webbley Caine said. "I assure you, I will find this dinner very delightful."
Amy did not know what to do. There was no chance of her escaping; and she knew she could not simply refuse to touch Burton's cock. Caine would find a way to make the experience even more unpleasant than it already was. She looked again at the stout penis lying on the platter. It was a mottled gray and pink, not at all the black she had expected. Her mind raced back a few years, to the time Joey had captivated a roomful of nursing students with a black cock severed from a corpse. This was a cock from a living Negro, but it was no more appetizing to Amy than that dead organ Joey had fucked herself with.
"Magnificent, isn't it?" Caine said. "I've seen horses that looked small compared to Burton. But, why don't you begin, my dear? You wouldn't want me to force you to dine on Burton's cock, would you? I hope you are not hesitating because Burton is black. There is no room for prejudice in this house."
There was no more stalling to be done. Amy gingerly lifted Burton's meaty cock and wrapped her lips around the fist-sized corona. She thought cooperation would be the best policy at this point, so she began to tease the glans with the tip of her tongue. Burton grunted when he felt her do that. Out of the corner of her eye, Amy could see Caine smiling avuncularly at them. She sucked hard on the wide-knobbed cock, her senses stung by the strong pungent odor that drifted up from Burton's massive dangling balls.
"Good, good," Caine commented on the scene at the other end of the dining table. "Such scenes are good for my digestion."
Amy kept sucking. She tried not to let herself be overcome by the stench rising from Burton's hairy, mottled scrotum. When she raised her eyes as far up as possible, she saw the strong black man grinning widely down at her. Then, to her own disgust, she felt her cunt moisten with juices from her hole. There was nothing particularly erotic about what she was doing, she told herself; but her body betrayed her, and gave proof of the real situation.
Burton grasped his heavy cock and twisted it around in Amy's mouth, as if he were brushing her teeth. The slick head rubbed against the smooth walls of her cheek, making Amy look like a chipmunk with a cheek full of walnuts. When Burton tired of that game, he began to pump away at her mouth in short, fast strokes. Hoping to get it over with quickly, Amy bobbed her head up and down on his stiff black pole. Her lips clutched the skin sliding through them, frigging the cock.
Caine cleared his throat, bringing Amy back to the world beyond the cock in her mouth.
"Burton," the surgeon said, "would you please pour me another glass of wine. Take the girl with you."
"Yassuh, I be right there."
The well-developed black man grabbed a handful of Amy's auburn hair. He jerked her head forward, popping his huge penis past the bed of her tongue, so that the fat head was stuck in her throat passage.
"Now, you better stay on my pecker, miss," he said, "or your white ass will really be in trouble."
Amy found herself being dragged from the chair, and pulled along the floor with him as he went to fill Caine's wine glass. She thought her hair would be pulled out by the roots, but it held. She could barely breathe, but never stopped gobbling cock as she was hauled along with Burton.
"Thank you, Burton," Caine said, after his glass had been filled. "I would appreciate it if you would remain here, so that I may better see what is transpiring."
"That fine with me," Burton said.
When Burton let go her hair, Amy collapsed and had to hold on to his knees in order to keep upright enough to continue sucking his cock. Her scalp felt mangled; it burned as much as her throat, which was sore from the grating of Burton's rough cockhead. Fortunately, he unplugged her throat a few moments after he released her hair. Her eyes watered from the pain, but no one seemed to notice.
"I think I should like to see you suck Burton's balls for a while, my dear." Caine sipped from his wine glass, and smacked his lips appreciatively. "Try not to hurt them though. Burton can be very mean if he is hurt."
Amy disgorged the meaty cock that had filled her mouth. She didn't know if taking in his scrotum would be any better, but she did not see how it could be any worse.
Burton hefted up his mammoth balls, and stuffed them into her mouth, one at a time. Amy was pleased to find that she could handle them better than the rigid cock; the balls shifted around until she was comfortable with their arrangement. But while they were not as suffocating as the cock, they were more delicate. Amy was very careful not to injure the black man's big nuts as she licked them with her worn tongue.
Burton seemed to think she was doing a good job. He grunted and slipped one huge black paw down the front of her flimsy evening gown. He came out again holding a red-tipped tit. He took the pert nipple between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed it hard. Amy jumped, and her teeth automatically closed down hard on Burton's leathery sack.
"Goddamn you, white trash!" Burton screamed. "You trying to bite my balls off? Burton don't care much for that at all."
He took his cock in his other hand and beat Amy repeatedly across the face with it, like a cop interrogating a suspect with a rubber hose. At the same time, he pinched her already bruised nipple until Amy thought she would pass out from the pain. And still, she continued to massage his balls with her lips and tongue. She figured he was getting pretty excited from all the action he was handling now; his nuts were churning around inside their bag.
Amy was worried too about the state of her own sexual organs. Her pussy was still leaking juice, and it felt very prickly down there. She wanted something to scratch her cunt hole, to relieve the itching.
Relief, of a sort, was not long in coming.
"Onto, the table, please," Caine said. He had finished his dinner, and was just pouring himself a snifter of brandy. "Let's get on with the rest of it, Burton."
"Open your mouth, honey," the black man said. Amy did as he commanded, and he lifted out his sopping scrotum.
Burton turned back to his employer. "You want that dress on or off, boss?"
Caine deliberated a minute. "I don't really know yet, Burton. Why don't we leave it on for a while and see how that goes? We can always take it off later, if it doesn't, work out."
"Sure, boss," Burton said. Suddenly, he stooped, lifted Amy up, and deposited her on the table. He quickly stripped off his pants and joined her there.
With one titty hanging out, her face red with welts from Burton's thick cock, and her thighs slippery with her own cunt juices, Amy felt awful. She imagined she looked awful too, though she doubted if either of the two men even noticed, or would care if they had noticed. She was in no beauty contest. She wasn't sure what kind of set-up she was in, but she knew she would win no prizes here for looking neat, or singing "Moon River".
Burton arranged her so that she presented a profile to Caine. There was enough room on the wide table for her to lie down, and have room for Burton to fit between her shaking legs.
Burton pushed her dress back over her hips, tucking the loose folds of material under her body. Since she had worn no undergarment except for the pale pink panties, she was all but naked from the waist down. Burton wasted no time in stripping off her panties, exposing the hank of auburn hair that bristled around her cunt. The black man stood there watching her, his outsized prick twitching in the direction of her pussy.
"Okay, Red," Burton said. "I'm coming to get'cha."
Amy shied back involuntarily when she saw that log-like cock headed for her tender cunt. But Burton pinned her legs down to the table until he could push his raunchy penis a little ways up her hole. When he felt he was securely inside, he let her legs go. She was linked fast now, and was going nowhere.
His sturdy prick was stretching Amy's unused cunt so much, she thought it would have to tear soon, just to fit him inside. But she did notice that, after the first few jabs of his cock, her itching stopped. She felt that was typical of her life-always curing one ill by bringing in a greater ill. She tried to relax and simply let Burton have his fill of her body.
Amy was surprised at how her pussy could gulp and take in as much of Burton's cock as he wanted to shove up it. He was not all the way in yet, and already she could feel the tip of his penis knocking against the mouth of her womb. Burton bounced up and down on her belly, driving himself deeper into her hole. Amy ground her heels into the surface of the hard wooden table, trying to raise her hips and ease Burton's entry into her snug channel. She thought she would be able to take on a horse after the well-hung black man was finished with her.
Over his after-dinner coffee, Caine commented on the action, directing them, giving advice to Burton. He did not seem excited, at least not from the calm tone of his educated voice; but Amy could not see his eyes, so she could not tell for sure.
"Yes, I like the way you help him, my dear, by raising your hips. That's good sign on your part. It means, for one thing, that you have decided to accept the inevitable, always a wise move. Not too fast now, Burton. I don't want you emptying your sac into her right away. That's it. A nice deep measured stroke. That is bound to drive her crazy soon. No woman can withstand an intelligently executed fucking. I mean, a vagina is just an inert hole, isn't it? It's nature is to accept whatever is put into it. And if you use your cock correctly, that vagina has no choice but to enjoy the fucking as well as accept it. Now, my dear, you may be permitted to move your hips a bit more. That is an exquisite pleasure, isn't it-the meeting of flesh and flesh? Go on, go on. I'm watching."
Amy followed his instructions. She ground her hips against Burton's. She contracted the muscular walls of her pussy around Burton's hammering dick. She offered no objection when Burton wrenched a hand between their sticky bodies and began to play with her inflamed clit. In truth, Amy was beginning to enjoy the fucking more than she would admit to herself. In her mind, too, she was comparing Burton as a lover to Caine, the man who had first entered her cunt. Caine was more suave, Burton more powerful. That was the basic difference; all other differences were spin-offs from that basic contrast. She didn't know which she preferred. Perhaps, somewhere, there was a man who combined grace and strength, someone who was gentle and firm. She wondered if Curt was like that, and was sorry now she had never given him the chance to prove his style as a lover. But then, when she was Still a frightened virgin she had nothing to compare Curt to; maybe it was best the way things worked out.
Even Burton could feel her soften and accept the fucking she was getting. With her change of attitude, she noticed that he became gentler toward her, more willing to meet her needs. There was less of the original animal ferocity in his handling of her body. But Amy knew she could really expect no concessions from either Caine or Burton. Any show of affection or humanity was simply a truce in a long war.
There was an added thrill for Amy now, too-one she had not gotten with Caine. This was the sensual effect of Burton's dangling balls slapping against her asshole. They swung against her just hard enough to feel good. Amy spread her legs wider so that the padded nuts would have a bigger target. There was something about that soft thud and even rhythm that turned her on. With that stimulation, Amy increased her grinding against Burton's plunging cock.
But just when she was getting to like her fucking, Caine broke it up.
"This is getting so boring, it's putting me to sleep," the surgeon said in the blase tone he used when he wanted to appear especially sophisticated. "You may move on to the next part, Burton. This is what I have been waiting for most of the evening, anyway."
Amy wondered what Caine had in store for her now. She hated to feel Burton's meaty dick backing out of her pussy. He had brought her to a high pitch of sexual excitement-and she did not want to be frustrated now by stopping short of an orgasm. Still, she felt it would be wiser not to mention anything now, but rather go along with whatever Caine had planned.
With a minimum of rough handling, Burton hoisted Amy to her knees and turned her so that her butt was jacked into the air. Her head was now facing the opposite end of the table from Caine. She wondered if the surgeon was getting a good look at her privates-she was completely open to his gaze, only a few feet away. She, though, could not see him; her evening gown hung down below her to the table.
Caine noticed that too. "I think we'll strip her completely for this one, Burton. Now please be careful with that gown. It was very expensive, and it damages too easily."
With Amy's help, Burton removed the gown intact. He folded it neatly and hung it over the back of a chair.
Now Amy could see Webbley Caine; her head rested on the table, and there was a clear view of him between her outspread legs. Though he seemed outwardly composed, Amy noticed that his eyes had a strange light in them, a glint of anticipation. She shuddered at that reptilian look and closed her eyes. She could not stop whatever was going to happen to her, but she did not have to watch Caine enjoying her predicament.
She felt Burton position himself behind her, place his hands around her waist, then hesitate.
"Boss," he said. "I ain't got no Vaseline or cream here with me."
There was silence for a moment. Then Caine said: "Here, use this."
That exchange made Amy very curious. She opened her eyes and glanced between her legs again. What she saw mystified her at first.
Burton took the top off the silver butter dish and dipped his fingers into the soft yellow mound. When he had spooned out a large hunk of butter, he smeared the oily substance over and around her anus. Suddenly, she realized what the last act was going to be. She started to scream out, but she knew it would be no use. She only hoped it would not hurt her too much; it had been a strain for Burton to work his fat cock up her larger pussy hole. It would be sheer torture, even with the lubrication from the butter, for the big black man to wedge his cock up her clenched asshole.
Amy tried to relax and let the anal muscles of her sphincter go slack, to minimize the pain. Burton's slimy fingers parted her cheeks and one slippery digit wiggled up her tight asshole. It retreated, then came back, oiled up again. Amy felt like a greasy mess. But she knew how necessary that butter was. She thought back to what Caine had said earlier about accepting the inevitable. Amy tried to pretend she really wanted Burton to fuck her in the asshole. After all, she told herself, once you've had your hymen ruptured, you might as well have your asshole reamed. If I were Joey, I would probably be begging Burton to hurry and stick his thick penis up there. I would be telling him exactly how I wanted to have my asshole fucked.
The penetration by Burton's finger did not hurt at all; in fact, it felt good, as if it were merely an extension of his balls slapping against her anus. But then he had not gone very far, either; and his finger was nowhere near the size of his gargantuan cock.
The real thing began soon enough. Burton rested the tip of his cock on her asshole, and rubbed the head around until it was thoroughly coated with butter. The sweet, familiar smell drifted forward to Amy's head, and she laughed at the domestic trappings of her first anal puncturing. She could never again butter her bread without thinking of tonight.
"I'm waiting," Caine said, tapping his fingers nervously on the table. "Bugger her, Burton."
Burton jerked his hips forward. But he had not wedged the head of his big cock far enough into her hole, and his greased pole slipped past the anus and stuck straight up in the air.
The black man cursed and took a good hold on his oily prick. He aimed the head at Amy's asshole again.
"Now, Mama," he told her, "I want you to grab hold your cheeks and pull them apart. This time I'm going in."
Amy spread her cheeks back, giving Burton a clear shot at her tight brown asshole. This time when he lunged forward, he succeeded in getting the bulbous head of his cock past the tight outer ring of muscle.
An "ooooff" escaped from Amy's lips. She felt again as if Burton were tearing her apart with his wide cock. He rotated his hips, trying to corkscrew his shaft up her narrow passage. It seemed to be working. Amy felt something hard slowly work its way up her bowels. After the first thrust, the asshole stretched to accommodate its passenger. Amy was securely skewered on the end of a twisting, turning cock.
"Ooo, shit, this be good," Burton said. "I sure do like coming in this back door. You really clamping down on my cock now, Mama!"
Amy knew what he meant. Even though she was trying to relax, even though her asshole had given some to admit Burton's thick member, there was still a lot of pressure on the mottled dick, and a painful feeling for Amy. Burton had packed about four inches into her by now. He had stopped the corkscrew motion and was just pounding away at her now. Amy wiggled her ass, trying to help him enter as easily as possible. She felt as if she were sitting on a flagpole, and the flag was fluttering up her ass.
"Have you got your cock up there a good ways?" Caine asked.
"Yassuh," Burton said. "She can't get away from me now, no matter how hard she try."
"That's fine, Burton," the surgeon told him. "Now, I want you to turn her around and push her over to my end of the table please."
Burton guided Amy with his embedded cock, making her face Caine, then nudging her ahead until she was almost off the end of the table. She was staring right into Caine's hard eyes.
"Just pretend I'm a dentist," Caine said, standing up. "I'm going to fill another cavity for you." He unbuckled his belt, and pushed his pants down to his knees. His slim cock, which looked so puny compared to Burton's thick member, was hanging head down, still hooded. Caine lifted it gently on one crooked finger, the way he might have handled a poisonous snake. With his other hand, he pulled back the foreskin. Amy noticed an opaque drop of fluid oozing out the tip.
"Would you like some white meat for a change?" Caine asked her. He rubbed the head of his limp cock across her lips. Reluctantly, Amy opened her mouth and darted out her tongue to lick the glistening tip.
"Ah," Caine said. "You learn so quickly. I'll wager you were at the head of your class in nursing school."
Amy watched in wonder as, before her eyes, the surgeon's thin cock began to swell. As the girth and the length expanded, the hood of skin slid back and disappeared behind the bulging head. All she had to do was open her mouth wide, and Caine's prick grew right into her cavity.
At the same time as she was accepting Caine's distended cock into her mouth, Burton was pushing further up her asshole. Amy writhed on the shaft of his cock, urging it forward until the head was banging against her bowels. The pressure made Amy feel as though she had to crap. It was unpleasant at first, but she didn't have much time to think about it. Caine was anxious for her to get on with the business of sucking his dick.
The surgeon was jiggling his prick inside her mouth, moistening it with her warm saliva. Amy's tongue flew over the knobby head, titillating it until it trembled. She had to act instinctively now; with Burton burrowing up her asshole, and Caine cramped in her mouth, she could not concentrate on what she was doing. Her ass wiggled and her tongue twirled impulsively. Both men seemed to be pleased with her responses. At least, she heard no complaints.
Amy was trapped in the middle, shish-kabobed on two cocks, fucked from head to tail. But she didn't have time to contemplate her situation; she was there to give pleasure to the two men, and she knew she had better do just that.
Above her, Amy heard Caine say, "You had better hurry with my cock, dear. I can see Burton's eyes bulging from their sockets. It won't be long before he sprays your insides with his hot sperm. And I want to be right behind him. So, do use your mouth wisely, and not waste a moment."
The auburn beauty took his advice. She sucked heartily on his bloated head, slurping up the juice that ran out of the tip. Her tongue ravished the underside of his slick glans, thrilling him, and stiffening his elegant cock.
Amy was surprised to find herself deriving as much satisfaction from the double drilling as the men did. Her cunt was wetting itself again with juice, and Amy shocked herself by wishing that someone was fucking her there too. She had come far since that night when she refused to allow Curt to stick his aching cock into her virgin cunt. While her mouth and her ass worked smoothly, almost automatically, she imagined what Curt was doing now with Joey. Amy wondered if he could ever accept her loose ways, if he had by now found out just how little resistance she had when a cock was near her. My poor Curt, she thought, I really put him in a tight spot. Amy didn't at the moment realize what a tight spot she herself was in.
"Here she comes," Burton suddenly yelled, and Amy immediately felt something hot and wet beat against her bowels. She could feel Burton's cock expanding and contracting, spitting out his sperm. When that load of cum hit her insides, Amy began to suck ferociously on Caine's cock. She dropped one hand and began to squeeze his balls, trying to milk them, to hurry the surgeon's own orgasm.
Caine grabbed her by the ears and bobbed her head up and down on his throbbing shaft. He drove it deeper and deeper into her mouth, until he had passed the back of her tongue and was fucking her directly in the throat. Amy gagged, but could do nothing. She kept up her sucking, and feverishly batted the base of his cock with her tongue.
In only moments, Amy felt Caine's long cock palpitating inside her throat. She rolled his balls in her hand, she tugged at his heavy sac-anything to make the sperm rise and flow down her gullet. Burton was still banging into her asshole, pumping her full of hot cum. Amy tilted her ass higher in the air, so that Burton was firing his load down a very tight well. Amy was getting excited herself; she knew that when Caine finally came, she would probably join the two men with her own orgasm.
Suddenly, the surgeon pushed her head down hard on his stiff cock, nearly ripping the lining of her throat.
"I've arrived," he said, in a strained voice. Just as he finished speaking, the first gob of his cum jetted down Amy's throat.
She was being inundated with sperm. Burton was filling her from the rear and Caine was packing it in from the front. And from the middle, juice was leaking onto the table from Amy's eager pussy. Like a chain reaction reaching its last link, Amy, too, started her orgasm. She chomped down on Caine's sputtering cock as if she were sinking her teeth into a succulent sausage. He didn't seem to mind her sharp teeth nipping into his flesh; the cum was cascading out so fast he felt he was being carried away in its rush. He planted his feet firmly on the floor and fired off torpedo after torpedo into her mouth.
Amy went wild, her tongue swabbing Caine's cock like a mad charwoman, her ass milking Burton's white cum from his pile-driving cock. All three seemed to be having a fit, the way they jerked and lunged at each other.
Hot sperm was drenching the auburn beauty. She didn't know where it was all going, but there seemed to be no end to it. Caine's cock had slipped out of her throat; his purple head was scraping the roof of her mouth, and his cum gushed out in torrents. Her tongue was coated with the thick scum, and a long spidery strand dangled from the corner of her mouth.
Burton's tide had finally begun to ebb. He tapered off to a trickle, then stopped altogether. But the black man continued to fuck her asshole, butting away at the tight tunnel, sloshing around in his own pool of cum. It made an awful slurping noise as he stroked in and out.
Amy was giddy from the fucking she was getting. Her tits swung against each other, slapping themselves loudly, as her body twisted and bent in the throes of her orgasm. She could not keep up with the sperm jetting into her mouth. She swallowed as much as she could, and let the rest drip out onto the table. The cum there mixed with the juices dribbling from her pussy. It was a total mess, and Amy had trouble keeping her balance as her knees slipped and slid in the rank mixture.
Before Amy had finished her orgasm, Caine ran out of sperm. He pulled his cock out of her and fell back with a sigh into his chair. His cock was crinkly already with dried cum; it hung limp between his legs.
Taking his cue from Caine, Burton unplugged himself from Amy's asshole and lay back on the table. His cock stood straight up from his body, quivering, dripping cum.
That left Amy alone with her orgasm. Once she was free of the two cocks that had her pinned down, she thrust a hand underneath her body and grabbed her pulsating clit. She would finish off this job herself. She squirmed and flung off her pussy juices as her hips tossed. Her mouth tasted awful from Caine's sperm, and she belched loudly. Her hand worked furiously at her clit, pulling it, rotating it under her thumb. Amy felt as if she were going to explode. Her ass whirled in the air, her head swung from side to side. She was climbing, climbing ... Then she hit her peak, and it was all downward, as she soared and glided, then shuddered to a landing. She looked up at Caine, her eyes dull, her body spent.
Caine parted his lips slightly in a weak smile.
"To borrow a phrase from Burton," he said, " 'you ain't seen nothing yet.' "
6
The sun shining brightly in Amy's face woke her up. It was almost a week since the night she had been buggered on the dining room table by Burton. Came had been right when he warned her that that was only the beginning. She considered herself lucky just to be able to see the sun again.
When she turned over on her side, it seemed as if every bone in her body ached. Amy remembered the night before and got out of bed to look for a mirror. She found one on her dresser; she held that mirror over her shoulder and studied her back. There were thin red welts across her shoulder-blades. It had been a rough night.
Since the night of her buggering, things had become progressively worse. Amy was now frightened for her life. It seemed as if Caine would go to any lengths to get a sexual thrill; his jaded appetite demanded ever new combinations, ever more dangerous situations. She didn't know where the antics would end, but she was afraid for her life.
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in," Amy said wearily, wondering why anyone even bothered to be polite enough to knock before entering.
Burton walked in, carrying a silver tray on which there was a cup of coffee and a plate of hot buttered toast.
"I thought you might be hungry after last night," Burton said. "It's near three o'clock in the afternoon now."
Amy was surprised at his thoughtfulness, and would have liked to question him more, but all she said was "Thank you."
Still, Burton did not leave the room, even after Amy had taken the tray from him. He stood there by the side of the bed, watching her with a sheepish look on his face. This was a Burton Amy had not seen before.
"It there something the matter, Burton?" she asked him. "Or do you just want to beat me a little before Doctor Caine gets home?"
Burton looked hurt at that last question. He wrung his hands and shifted his feet nervously on the thick carpet. Amy wondered if he would get up the nerve to speak.
He finally did. "Miss," he said humbly, "I just want you should know, I don't like what happened last night no better than you do. I don't truck with beating women. I don't like it, but if the boss say I got to do it, I got to do it."
"Why, thank you for telling me that, Burton," Amy said, surprised. She didn't know what else to say.
"And I would sure like to help you now, miss," the black man continued, "but I swear I don't know what to do."
"Do you really mean that, Burton?" Amy asked. "About helping me?"
"On my honor, miss," Burton said, raising his hand in the air.
Amy smiled. "Well, we'll let that pass. I think I'll trust you, Burton. Now, tell me this: Do you drive Doctor Caine to the hospital in the morning?"
"Yes, miss, I do," Burton said, already looking scared she would ask him to commit himself to something he could not do. "I drives him, but I couldn't take a chance on smuggling you out. The boss would have my hide if you was to get caught."
"Well, he had my hide last night, Burton," Amy said, turning down the covers and exposing her naked, red-striped back to the black man. "But I wouldn't dream of putting you in that position. What I want you to smuggle out, Burton, is a letter. Can you give a letter to someone in the hospital without getting caught? You see, it doesn't do me much good, either, if you fail."
Burton thoughtfully stroked his grizzled chin. "Yes, miss," he said finally, "I believes I could do it. But it got to be pretty small letter. What you got to do is write it this evening and give it to me. I make sure that letter get in the hospital tomorrow morning."
For the first time in days, Amy saw some hope for herself. She jumped out of bed to write the letter immediately. Burton's wide eyes followed her hungrily as she walked, tits bouncing seductively, across the room to the desk. It took her only a couple of minutes to write the letter, seal it in an envelope and address the letter to Doctor Curt Henry, Midland Hospital. She gave the sealed envelope to Burton.
"Now, see that this gets to Doctor Henry," Amy said.
"I do my best, miss," Burton said. His eyes were still fixed on her naked bruised body.
"That will be all, Burton," Amy said firmly. But he just stood there, looking at her. Amy noticed a bulge in his crotch, and recognized what that meant.
She sighed. "Oh, go ahead and pull it out, Burton. I guess I can do that much for you, can't I?"
Burton unzipped his pants, and his mottled cock leaped out at the girl. Amy knelt down in front of him and capped the swollen head of his prick with her moist full lips. The black man groaned when he felt that and almost fell over backward. Amy's tongue whipped around his sensitive piss hole, sucking the fat bulb at the same time. Burton pushed a couple of more inches in, until his cock filled her mouth. Burton leaned over and caressed her red-tipped tits, playing patty-cake with her quivering mounds. Amy felt her labia lips beginning to get puffy again. Juice started to flow from her sweet hole.
They were both ready to fuck, and Amy knew they would have to do it quickly, for Caine would be coming home soon. When she felt that Burton's cock was primed enough, she pushed him away from her mouth.
"On the bed, quick," she said. "You have to go pick up your boss in a little while, and we don't have much time."
"Oh, that's right," Burton said. "This got to be a slam-bam-thank-you-ma'am. I'm ready to ride pussy right now, so get ready to gallop."
Amy lay back on the bed, and prepared herself by spreading her legs lasciviously wide. Her pussy hair was matted slick with fragrant juices from her hole. She raised her knees until her pussy was gaping open at Burton. He shucked off his pants and threw himself on top of her, burying his fat cock immediately in her hot twat.
While Burton bounced up and down on her cushiony cunt, Amy's mind wandered off to other things. She hoped Burton would not screw up the next morning when he delivered the letter. And even if the black man did everything correctly, and the letter got to Curt Henry, Amy was not sure the young doctor would help her. After all, she had humiliated him, frustrated him, spied on him. Why should he do anything for her, especially when he had the willing steamy-cunted Joey to keep him happy and drained? Amy did not know the answer to that question; she just knew that if Curt Henry was half the man she imagined he was, he would find a way to free her from Caine's clutches.
Amy's cunt was working independently of her mind. Her pussy muscles gripped the thick rod inside her and milked it. Burton drove his battering organ deep into her belly. With time running out on him, Burton was working double fast to bring off his orgasm.
Her hips jerking under him, Amy, too, was anxious to get the fucking over with. She concentrated on clutching his cock with the muscular walls of her cunt, letting the spasms ripple along the sides of his donkey dick. Burton stuffed her with hot banging cock. Amy was so wet around her pussy that the black man's driving prick made a squishing sound as it pounded back and forth.
Amy felt her orgasm approaching. She arched her back and rapidly thrust her pussy against Burton's cock, her ass writhing all the time. Burton crammed every inch of his rock-hard dick into her; his balls were slapping against her asshole.
It was only another minute or so before Amy reached her climax. She twisted convulsively under Burton, setting off his orgasm. Amy jerked even more as she felt Burton's hot cum spraying her insides. She pulled his head down to hers, and slipped her tongue into his mouth, chasing his thick taste organ.
That surprised Burton and drove him into an even greater frenzy. Sperm welled up and gushed into her cunt. Amy trapped his cock inside, squeezing the last drop out of him. The intensity of the orgasms was so great that they could not keep it up for long. Burton had soon emptied his sac. He climbed off Amy, quickly pulled on his pants, and went down to get the car out for the ride to the hospital.
Exhausted but pleased, Amy stretched out on the bed. She hoped that was the last time she would ever have to fuck anyone in that house.
Caine had to leave that night for an emergency operation, so Amy was spared further degradation for that night. It was not until the next evening that she saw Caine again.
A cruel smile split his lips as he entered her bedroom. Amy had not had a chance to speak to Burton that day, so she did not know if he had found a chance to deliver her letter. But she did not like the look on the gray-haired doctor's smooth face.
"I don't know why you don't appreciate my hospitality, dear. I have tried to make you comfortable in every way."
Amy was in no mood to be polite.
"Your hospitality is going to send me to the hospital," she told him bitterly. "And as a patient, not as a nurse. I'm as comfortable here as a heretic on the rack."
Caine laughed at her. "At least I haven't broken your spirit, I see. That's good. I have no use for rag dolls. Still, I thought it was rather in bad taste for you to try to send a letter to Doctor Henry, when you know I forbid any communication with the world outside this house."
Amy was rocked by that speech. She cursed Burton for betraying her. God, she said to herself, I should have realized it was all a trick, and that he only wanted to fuck me again.
As if he could read her mind, Caine said, "You mustn't blame Burton for what happened. It was not his fault. I must admit I am very surprised at Burton's action, and I will take the appropriate steps to see that he stays in line from now on. You see, Burton did exactly what you asked him to do. But he made one mistake. Instead of giving the letter to Doctor Curt Henry personally, Burton gave it to Supervisor Clutchens to deliver. And naturally, as luck would have it, she passed it on to me to hand to Henry. So you see, your knight in shining armor will not be riding in on his white charger to rescue you. I'm afraid, my dear, that we may have to extend your stay here indefinitely."
Amy did not like the sound of that. She had already accepted her failure to get through to Curt; but this new announcement by Caine had an ominous ring that made Amy shudder. She shook her auburn hair behind her and tried to appear unconcerned by the surgeon's threatening hint.
"Well, you can't win them all," Amy said.
"That's the spirit, my dear," Caine said, patting her cheek; but there was more sting in that caress than love.
Amy quickly put her hand up to the burning cheek. Her eyes watered, and Caine was just a blur to her.
"What are you going to do with me?" she asked him.
"Shall we just worry about the short run?" Caine said. "I am going to do nothing to you. In fact, I am throwing a costume party this Saturday night for your benefit. I hope it will amuse you. You may be pleased to learn that I have invited a very good friend of yours to the masquerade. Doctor Curt Henry will be here, my dear."
Amy could not figure out why Caine would do such a thing. After intercepting her letter to Curt, why would the surgeon turn around and invite him to the isolated country house?
"You see," Caine continued, "he doesn't know you are here. And he may never find out where you are. Since everyone will be masked, it is not likely that he will recognize you. And even if he does, I don't think you will make any trouble. There are many ways I can cause enough trouble that a young doctor will lose his license to practice."
Amy looked into the gray-haired man's hard eyes; their steely gaze told her he would do as he threatened. The very vagueness of the threat made it all the more real to her. And now she knew the reason for his inviting Curt. It was Caine's sadistic way of impressing on Amy her own impotence.
"You're a monster," Amy told him. "Sooner or later, something terrible is going to happen to you."
"Let us hope it will be later," Caine laughed. "After all, I would not like to miss my own party this weekend."
"No, we couldn't have that, could we?" Amy said bitterly. "Now, if you will leave me, I will get dressed."
"But, of course, my dear," Caine said graciously.
"I must be going anyway. I probably won't see you again until Saturday night at the masquerade. I will have a costume sent to you here. So do try to be good until then." He headed for the door. "Oh, I almost forgot," he said, his hand on the doorknob. "I also invited that blonde slut Doctor Henry is living with. I hope you don't mind, my dear." He smiled and went out.
He has been planning that exit line for a long time, Amy thought to herself. So I will have to watch Curt and Joey together. How clever Doctor Webbley Caine is! How could I ask Curt for help when he's with the very woman who caused this mess in the first place?
And there was nothing she could do. Amy remembered Caine's advice about accepting the inevitable. It was no longer any comfort to her-not when the inevitable now seemed to mean her eventual death after long weeks of sexual humiliation, degradation, and pain. She buried her head in the pillows and cried herself back to sleep.
With Caine absent from the country house, there were no more awful happenings before Saturday. Amy settled back into her routine of boredom and lassitude. She rarely saw anyone; Burton did not make an appearance, even at meal time. Amy assumed that Caine had fired him for attempting to deliver her letter. She did not like to think that he had disposed of the black man in a more ghastly way.
It was early evening, Saturday. Amy remained in her room. She had heard nothing further about the costume party since Caine had first mentioned it to her. She guessed the people would start arriving soon; but she had not yet received the costume Caine had promised to send. She dreaded the party, but was also anxious to be among people again. She was even a little curious about what she would be disguised as at the gathering. And she wondered too how Curt and Joey would be dressed. Amy told herself she would try to avoid them if she managed to penetrate their disguises and recognize them. She was not pleased with the idea of having to carry on a conversation with the couple.
A package finally arrived just before nine o'clock. One of the maids brought it up to her, along with a note from Caine. The note read: Be prepared to make your entrance at ten. Remember to smile. W.B.
Amy hurried opened the package. At first, she thought there was nothing in the box but a bunch of material. It seemed to be little more than swaths of silk. When she spread it out on the bed, she discovered that it was a kind of harem girl costume, consisting of sheer see-through pantaloons, a blouse of the same material, and numerous veils. It took her ten minutes to figure out how the veils should be attached and draped. When she finished dressing herself, she felt naked. The mirror showed her that the black mask she was to wear on her upper face covered more than the rest of her costume put together. She briefly considered not going downstairs at all; but the consequences of that action, she knew, would be worse than her embarrassment at the party. She checked her costume again, trying to conceal as much of her bountiful body as she could with the scanty outfit. At one minute to ten, she opened the door and went down to the masquerade.
About fifty people were milling around in the large ballroom. There were devils, knights, historical figures-the usual assortment of theatrical outfits and rented costumes. Here and there, a more imaginative attire could be seen. Amy walked through the crowd of guests, looking carefully at everyone. But she saw no one who resembled either Joey or Curt. As more guests were arriving every few minutes, she assumed those two had simply not come yet.
Someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to see a tall man dressed as a ringmaster of a circus. He carried a long whip that trailed down from his left hand.
"How ravishing you look tonight, my dear," the masked ringmaster said.
"Your voice gives you away at once," Amy told the gray-haired man. "I see you are dressed appropriately. The whip, I assume, is not simply decorative."
Caine bared his teeth in a smile. "In my life, everything is functional. But you really should be mingling with the guests, my dear. After all, you are the hostess."
"I'm not sure I'm capable of speaking to people any more," Amy said. "After all this time in isolation, I have lost the knack of social intercourse."
"You never had that knack, my dear," Caine told her. "But I like to think, in my own modest way, that I have at least made you fit for sexual intercourse. Now, if you'll excuse me, there are people I must greet."
He turned his back to her and walked off to meet the couple who had just come into the ballroom.
Music from some unseen source filled the large room. Amy noticed that tables were set up along one wall; they were loaded with delicacies. A few people were standing by them nibbling the varieties of food. More people were -lined up at the bar, ordering drinks. Amy was startled to see that the bartender was Burton. She began to make her way toward the bar.
When the thirsty ones had been satisfied, Amy leaned over the bar and said, "Burton, I never expected to see you again!"
Burton was taken aback at hearing her voice. "Why, miss," he said. "I never would have knowed that was you." He appraised her easily viewed body through the flimsy costume. "Course, I should have known it was you, with them tits."
Amy was surprised to find him so unconcerned about what had happened. "Are you sure you're all right?" she asked. "I mean, Doctor Caine didn't do anything to you for trying to deliver that letter for me?"
Burton laughed loudly at her. "But I did deliver that letter, miss. I delivered it right away to the boss. Now, why you think I came up to your room in the first place. I don't do nothing unless the boss says so. I expect he gave you some story about how he got that letter, but the truth is I handed it to him myself. I still do like you, miss, but I got me a job to do. Now, what you want to drink?"
The floor seemed to sink under Amy. Her only ally was a spy, and she had been tricked into giving away her plans for escape. She didn't know what to do now. Accept the inevitable, a voice in her mind kept repeating. And she was on the verge of giving in.
"You want something to drink, miss?" Burton asked her again.
"No, no thank you," Amy said. She couldn't bear to be around him any more, and walked off to mingle with some of the guests.
A hearty red-faced man dressed like Henry VIII grabbed Amy and swept her onto the dance floor. Reluctantly, she let herself be led through a series of awkward dance steps. She was reminded of that night in Beth's room when Joey had forcibly licked her cunt. When the song was finished, Amy broke away and lost herself in the crowd.
She found a chair near the food tables and sat down to survey the room full of people. There were quite a few couples among the guests, and Amy could not tell which couple was Joey and Curt. She thought that by picking out the most scantily clad girl, she would be sure to identify Joey, but there were many barely dressed women. At least I don't have to worry about being the only practically nude woman present, Amy told herself.
She was still looking over the crowd when Webbley Caine clapped his hands loudly in the center of the room. Everyone turned toward him.
"I think it's time the entertainment begins, don't you? Now, if you'll just quickly refuel yourself with food and drink, we can start the festivities." Caine surveyed the room, spotted Amy, and came over to her.
He sat down on the chair next to Amy. "Are you ready?" he asked her.
"Ready for what?" Amy questioned him. "I'm ready to go upstairs and climb into bed. But I suppose that's out of the question, isn't it?"
"You're full of jokes tonight, my dear. I'm pleased to see that. You may need that sense of humor before the night is out."
"I'm thirsty," Amy said, getting up. "I think I'll go ask Burton for a drink."
"Oh, have you seen Burton already?" Caine asked. "Well, I hope you better understand your position here now. But there is no time for you to get a drink. You are the first act, my dear. You will dance in the middle of the floor, stripping off all your veils until you are completely naked. Of course, you will not remove your mask."
"But I know nothing about dancing or stripping," Amy protested. "I'll just make a fool of myself."
"Now, now, my dear, once you begin to take off your clothes, no one will pay any attention to your dancing. And besides, you will be masked the whole time, so one could not know your identity."
"I suppose I have no choice," Amy said, already resigned to doing what Caine said.
"None whatsoever, my dear."
"Very well then." Amy stood up slowly, and checked the veils on her costume. She wondered why she even had to strip off her clothes; everything she had was already visible through the sheer material. She rubbed her hand over the auburn-thatched pubic mound under the silk, enjoying the feel of the expensive cloth.
When the audio system began to play some Eastern sounding music, Amy moved to the middle of the floor and began to walk slowly around in a circle, trying to flow to the rhythms of the music. A crowd began to gradually form around her. She felt oddly assured, possibly because she was masked and was therefore unknown to the spectators.
When enough people had stopped to watch her, Amy began to remove her veils. She decided not to bump and grind like a vulgar night club stripper.
Rather, she let the music carry her into a kind of trance. She moved gracefully to the sinuous rhythms, deftly unfastening the veils and letting them fall to the floor. Each time she turned, the remaining veils billowed silkily from her body. She attracted more people with the dropping of each veil. Five now slithered around her feet.
"What a beautiful girl," someone said.
"She reminds me of someone I used to know," another voice said.
Amy looked hastily around, trying to locate the last speaker. She had recognized the voice. It was Curt's. But Caine had lowered the lights when the first veil fell, and Amy could not see the faces of the onlookers clearly. But at least she now knew that Curt and Joey were present. And Amy was glad the black mask preserved her anonymity.
In a short while, she was down to one veil. She twirled the long cloth around her body, teasing the crowd. Shouts of "Take it off!" echoed good-naturedly through the large ballroom. Amy began to feel a little lewd. She slipped the end of the veil between her legs and drew it out slowly, rubbing her pussy against the fine cloth. Then she unhooked it and let it fall to the floor. Now only the thin blouse and pantaloons kept her from total nudity.
The blouse was very short. It hung down to just below her firm breasts, and was fastened in the back at the top and the bottom. Amy reached behind herself and undid the bottom button. The lower half of the blouse fell loosely around her heavily nippled tits, teasing the spectators. She danced closer to the front ring of people and someone made a grab at the blouse. Amy smoothly sidestepped him, and quickly undid the top button of the blouse. She shrugged it from her shoulders but did not let it drop to the floor. Instead, she held it in front of her breasts, and made a complete circle around her dance area. Only then did she pluck the blouse from her chest and throw it into the crowd. Cheers went up as Amy's full tits came clearly into view.
Amy felt very proud of her body then. She also felt very sexy. The lights, the music, the crowd, were getting to her. She lifted both breasts in her hands and pushed them out toward the people. Her plum-sized nipples grew hard, the points standing up as hard and straight as thick nails. Amy offered her ripe tits to the crowd and they loved it.
Amy too was thrilled by her performance. She did not know what came over her, but she accepted it, even enjoyed it. Her pantaloons were sticking to the crack of her cunt from the juices that poured out of her pussy. She knew that her plump pussylips were easily visible behind the damp silk that covered her crotch.
Amy rubbed her palms over her nipples, teasing them higher, just as she was probably teasing many cocks in her audience to erections. She bent over and squeezed her full breasts together; the two mounds of flesh were bunched tightly in a small space. She wished she could have lifted her nipples to her mouth and sucked them the way she had seen Joey do, but she had tried that before and failed. Amy was prepared to turn on the crowd any way she could.
And she knew that she would have to strip off her silk pantaloons before the crowd became restless. They were held together at each ankle by a small hook; elastic kept them up around her waist. As gracefully as she could, Amy stooped down and uasnapped the ankle fastenings. The sheer material flapped loosely around her legs. Then, maddeningly slow, her hands inched the pantaloons down from her waist. There was a lot of ooohing and aaahing when the top of her pantaloons cleared her pubic mound, and her magnificent auburn snatch first came into view. Amy wondered if either Joey or Curt would recognize her now; both had had a chance to sup at her fully fleshed pussy. But Amy stopped before she uncovered the rest of her cunt. With only the red pubic mound showing, Amy slipped a hand inside the top of her pantaloons and began to massage her throbbing clit. Her ass shook as the vibrations traveled from her clit through the rest of her hot body. The juice was flowing freely and Amy's hand was sloshing around in it. She swayed hypnotically to the music as her hand manipulated her ruby clit. But she could not satisfy herself that way tonight. She needed a cock to make her come completely.
Amy quickly then pulled her pantaloons down and stepped out of them. Now the black mask was her only covering.
Knowing what she had to do, Amy reached out to the crowd and grabbed the first man she saw. She dragged him into the magic circle with her. He was dressed like St. George, in a suit of simulated chain mail; but it took him only a minute to shed his chivalric costume and stand naked before Amy. His cock was half hard, a thick tube that swayed from side to side.
Amy's stomach felt funny when she saw that semi-rigid cock teeter from the clump of black pubic hair at its base. It looked familiar. But she figured it was only because she was relatively inexperienced; she had, in fact, only seen three real cocks in her life. Maybe they all look similar, she thought to herself.
I've got to get that cock rock-hard. Amy said to herself. She kneeled down in front of the man and stuck out her tongue so that the tip brushed against the winking hole of the bobbing cock. At the first touch, the thick rod seemed to spring to life. Suddenly, miraculously, it grew longer, broader. Amy had to catch it in her hand to steady it and bring the head down to the level of her mouth. While she smeared the dribbling head over her pursed lips, her other hand cupped his tight scrotum, rolling his testicles between her thumb and fingers. His cock quickly added another inch to itself, bursting through the soft barrier of her lips and into her warm oral cavity. It seemed to swell again as soon as it popped into her mouth, the skin stretching tightly over the tube of meat.
The crowd was completely silent, intent on watching the sexual drama unfold in the center of the floor. The music had shifted from oriental to slow downhome blues, with very nice raunchy harmonica and understated bottle-neck guitar.
Amy's tongue swept along the ridge of his corona, licking wildly. She loved the feel of that big cock in her mouth, filling her moist cavity. Her lips tugged at the stiff shaft, trying to force as much of it as possible into her mouth. The spongy prick moved further and further back, until the bulbous head was nuzzling her uvula. That was still not far enough to satisfy Amy tonight. She yanked gently on his balls and he crammed his cock back into her throat. Amy clenched her lips tightly around his tremulous cock and sucked as if she wanted to drain him dry.
The flanged head was fumbling down her throat passage, effectively cutting off her air flow there. Amy's nostrils flared as she struggled to get enough air in. She was close to choking, but the thick penis kept prodding her soft passage. The man pumped it in and out a little ways, never permitting the head to withdraw back behind the uvula before he thrust it in again. Amy's head was squirming around the impaling shaft, loving the way the heavy cock contracted and expanded as it fucked away at her mouth.
When she felt his balls begin to contract in their leathery bag, she stopped her sucking and licking. She did not want him to come in her mouth. She was saving his load of hot sperm for her hungry cunt. Amy gulped, and regurgitated his pulsing cock. It quivered in front of her face, throwing off drops of prostatic fluid and saliva. She couldn't resist one last lick, and recaptured the broad purple corona with her mouth. She soothed the throbbing head with her tongue, bathing it in her warm saliva. Then she nestled in between her teeth and cheek for a few moments before she took it out again.
One feel between her legs told her that she was more than ready to be fucked. Amy lay down on her back, her knees raised high in the air. A few moans swept through the crowd when they got their first good look at her open cunt. Then things settled down again as the man in the black mask that Amy had chosen knelt between her widespread legs and pried her labia apart. Juice streamed out of the deep pussy hole. The man wet his finger in the juices and began to slowly stroke Amy's shivering pussy. He worked his fingers up and down her creamy crack, scraping his knuckles along the sides of her hot box. Amy loved that sort of easy exploration of her vagina. There seemed to be a lot of care and sympathy in the way the masked man moved his hand over her oily parts, loosening her, preparing her for the fucking she would soon get.
Except for the music, there was total silence in the room. Not even the clanking of cocktail glasses broke the sensual quiet. While the man between her legs was massaging her cunt, Amy had time to think about him. Who was he? Until that moment, she had not been concerned about anything more than getting fucked by a strong cock. But now, with his tenderness and skill, he had aroused her curiosity as well as her body. She wanted to tear off his mask and find out who he was; she wanted to have him to herself, have him make love to her again-privately, instead of in front of an audience. But there was no way of doing that without revealing her own identity; and she couldn't bear to have Curt see her this way. She sighed, and resigned herself to being fucked by a mystery.
Suddenly the masked man leaned down and stuck his tongue into Amy's juicy twat. Her stomach fluttered wildly when she felt that warm moist organ slide down her greased channel, then make its way up again to her clit. His mouth closed over that red nub and began to suck lustily. Amy's hips wiggled underneath his face, pushing her cunt right into it. Her hands moved over her tits again, the fingers tweaking her nipples, pulling them up, twisting them. She was eager, and wanted everything to happen to her at once.
Amy couldn't stand it any longer; that frantic tongue twisting and churning around her cunt made the auburn beauty mad for the feel of a fat prick up her pussy.
"Oh, stick it in me, St. George!" she shouted. "Fuck the living shit out of me!"
The masked man at her crotch lifted his head speedily, as if he were startled by what Amy said. God, I hope I haven V offended him, she thought. I need that primed cock to sock away at my running cunt.
The man got into position between her legs. Amy raised her head to watch him enter her cunt, The long shining dick poised at the threshold to her pussy, then dove straight in.
The force drove Amy back a little. She lifted her hips so that she could better feel the cock sliding in and out of her snatch. Since she was so wet, there was no rasping pain as the fat cock bore down on her, working deeper and deeper in her flowing channel.
"I want to feel your balls slapping my asshole!" Amy screamed. "Cram every inch of your fat dick inside me! Fuck me so hard I won't be able to walk for three days!"
She reached up, grabbed him by the shoulders, and pulled his masked head down to hers. Her tongue infiltrated his lips, seeking his tongue. She found it and caressed it, wiggling all over the slippery organ. Finally, she had to break away from his mouth to take a breath of air. It was then she felt his mouth go to her ear. He's going to tongue my ear, she thought.
But he wanted to whisper in her ear, not tongue it.
"Amy," the voice at her ear said, "I never thought I would hear you say those things to me. I don't know how you got here, or why you're doing what you are, but I'm glad. I love fucking you! I'm only sorry I had to wait so long to get a chance at your hot cunt."
Amy didn't know what to do or say at first. Curt was fucking her! Her first reaction was fear; she was afraid he would be mad to discover her making a public sexual spectacle of herself. But his words soon told her what he really felt. And she was pleased, overjoyed, to at last have a chance to make up for that night she refused to let him stick his dick up her unbroken cunt. She hoped it was still not too late for them. She knew she would need his help. A plan began to take shape in her mind.
As if to nuzzle him, Any turned her mouth to his ear. "Curt, darling, there's so much to tell you. But we don't have time right now. You should know that Webbley Caine is keeping me a prisoner here. He has already whipped me, and I think he is planning to kill me after he's amused himself sufficiently with my body."
Curt's body went stiff against hers. "That suave bastard! I'd like to get my hands on him. We'd see how amused he would be by that!"
Amy was thrilled to hear Curt speak that way. She knew now he still cared for her. She bumped her hips against his groin, loving the delicious thrill she got from feeling his thick rod ream out her pussy.
"I'm taking you away from here tonight," Curt said, a determined note in his voice.
"It's not that easy," Amy whispered in his ear. "Caine will never willingly let me leave. And another thing, he threatened to frame you, to have your practicing license revoked, if you try to help me escape. And he means it, Curt, darling!"
But the young doctor wouldn't be put off. "Caine can't do a thing to me. You're leaving tonight. Now, let's keep on fucking, while we try to work out our escape plans."
Amy needed no encouragement to continue fucking Curt. She just wondered how long her brain could continue to function coolly and clearly while her pussy was jerking madly on Curt's pounding cock.
"Let's pick up the tempo a little," Amy said. "After all, there's an audience out there waiting to be entertained."
Curt chuckled softly. "I'd forgotten all about them." he said. But he took Amy's advice and doubled the speed of his strokes. His rigid pole slithered in and out of Amy's creamy cunt. Her stomach heaved up and down as she worked hard to meet his lunges head on.
Her words came out in a broken rhythm as Amy asked, "Have you figured out what we can do to get away?"
Curt was just as winded. "I ... I think so," he said. "You know, of course, that Joey is here with me tonight?"
"Of course, I know, darling," Amy said. She tightened the muscles of her cunt so that they clamped down on Curt's meaty cock; she wanted to reassure him that she understood now about his relationship with Joey. "And I think it's wonderful," she said. "I know why you went with her. And you were right, I was wrong."
"Oh, God, Amy, you're marvelous!" He kissed her wildly on her plump lips, jetting in his tongue to play with hers. "Maybe Caine did you some good after all," he said when he pulled his mouth from hers. "Anyway, this is my plan. After we're finished here, I'll let Joey in on the secret. When you can get away, go up to your room. I'll have Joey follow you. There you can change into her costume. Since we're all masked, I can leave with you on my arm, and Caine will be none the wiser. Joey can walk out soon after, when Caine is not near the front door. They're not looking for her, so she should have no problem in getting out. When we finish here, I'll have to go have the car brought around front, so we can make a quick getaway. But right now, Amy dear, let's fuck, let's make the kind of love we were meant to make!"
Amy rubbed her firm tits against Curt's broad chest, poking her hard nipples into his taut skin. She wanted him to crush her, to take her completely, to erase from her mind the memory of the other fuckings she had received since Caine first popped her cherry in that room at the hospital.
Curt pressed himself tightly against her body, mashing her titties flat. His hips rocked back and forth, sending his thick cock in and out of her slick sheath. Amy wrapped her legs around his back, locking his cock securely inside her aching cunt. That seemed also to open her up more, and the young doctor was able to drive into her as far as the mouth of her womb. Hanging on his pushing prick, Amy kept squirming, flexing her cunt muscles on the pole poking around inside her. She felt as if he would plow upward through her belly; she expected at any time to see the head of his cock rising out of her navel. If his cock was a compass needle, it would have to point north, she thought. Where are we headed tonight?
Grunting, Curt banged into her again and again. He was getting near the overflowing point. He could feel his balls scrunch together in their sac, manufacturing the hot cum that would soon be stinging its way into her womb.
Amy, too, was close to her climax. The constant pounding against her womb was getting to her. She humped faster, anxious to meet her orgasm at a dead run.
Curt beat her to the punch. Bucking like a stallion, he erupted into her cunt, spraying her already juicy walls with his hot white cream.
The explosion broke down Amy's last reserve. She writhed underneath him, screaming, "Drown me! I want to feel your cum fill up my pussy! Fuck, goddamn it, fuck me into heaven!" Her ass was pumping up and down in the air, lifted completely off the ground. Her pussylips clung tightly to his jerking shaft, drinking in every drop of his jolting sperm, making sure that none spilled out to the floor.
The long, round dick battered her, never ceasing to pump even as the cum cascaded out. The thick penis strained then relaxed, strained then relaxed. And all the while, salty cum was filling her cunt to capacity.
Amy was in ecstasy. How much better it was to fuck the man you loved! She wished he would mark her indelibly with his searing gallons of cum; she would have everyone know whose woman she was. It was too much for her to believe that she would be out of Caine's dangerous grasp in a little while; she had not had that much good luck in her entire life. But for now, she was happy just to hug herself to Curt, and catch his sperm in her spasming loins.
Curt lunged away, aware of the bulging breasts smothered beneath his chest, and the still tight cunt laboring to wrench every last drop of cum from his revolving balls. He wished he could keep it up forever. But even his prodigious supply had to run out sometime. And that time was fast approaching. He knew that, with a few more shudders, he would be dry. He hoped by that time, though, he would have satisfied Amy.
Amy understood what was happening. The muscles of her soaking pussy wrung the final drop from the tip of his cock. She was swimming in cum.
Finished, Curt fell forward, pinning her arching torso to the floor. "It was marvelous, Amy," he whispered to her. "Now I've got to go and prepare for our caper. Remember, get up to your room as soon as possible." He kissed her, then unplugged his prick from her drooling cunt; picking up his discarded costume, he melted back into the crowd.
When Amy looked up, she could not see him. All around her, people were enthusiastically applauding. She heard someone say, "That Webbley Caine! He sure knows how to throw a party!"
Amy started to get up, but a hand on her shoulder pushed her down again. She fell back into the pool of cum that had leaked from her full pussy.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" a voice above her said. "Do not leave yet. The best part is yet to come."
She looked up to see Caine standing by her, the wicked-looking whip dangling down; the split leather tip was coated with Curt's cum on the floor. She sat still, hoping she had done all that was required of her for the night.
"I have not dressed in this ringmaster's garb for the pleasure of it, my friends," Caine continued.
"There is a method behind my madness."
Amy did not doubt that at all. He was very clever, very cunning; but he was also very, very crazy.
"Tonight I will put my animal through its paces." Caine's manicured hand rested on Amy's auburn hair. "You have already seen how it sucks and how it fucks. Now, it's on with the rest of the performance!"
He cracked his whip on the floor and Amy jerked to attention. She knew she would have to go along with whatever Caine was up to; only by cooperating could she finish quickly the nasty-minded show and escape from Caine's clutches. How ironic, though, that she could save herself only by further degrading her body.
"Roll over on your back," the ringmaster commanded. Amy did as he said. She rolled around in Curt's cold sperm, smearing her sides and back with it, the way a horse might roll in the dust and cover himself with dirt.
The guests cheered her compliance. When Caine tapped her with the handle of his whip, she sat still again, awaiting the next order. It was not long in coming.
"Turn around to me and beg for your supper," he said. Amy, on her knees yet, faced him to find his long slim prick draped from the front of his trousers. It was rubbery-looking, not yet aroused to its full length or rigidity.
"Beg!" Caine repeated. Amy whined around his cock like a hungry puppy. She would have liked to reach up and pull it out by the roots; but for now, she had to play along with his disgusting games.
"Now fetch, bitch!" Caine yelled, grabbing his limp cock and waving it in her face. Amy leaned forward to capture his dick with her mouth. But when she approached, he twisted it to one side, and she wound up snapping at the air. After teasing her this way a few more times, he let her take his cock between her lips. It was no prize for Amy; she felt as if she would throw up. Just the idea of sucking Caine's thin cock after eating on Curt's thick member sickened her. But she did it. She made the mistake of nipping at the head too sharply, and Caine brought the thin stinging end of the long whip down across her back. Amy flinched and had to restrain herself from biting completely through the head of his foul cock. But after the slash across her tender back, she settled down to sucking his cock, making it grow larger within her mouth. Saliva bubbles formed at the corner of her mouth as she energetically sucked his purpling corona, licking around the thick ridge that separated the head from the shaft of the cock.
"See how tame they are, if you know how to handle them," Caine said to the crowd. "A little kindness, a little violence, and they will do anything for you."
Amy was laughing inside as she heard his speech to the gaping people around them. She could do anything now, knowing she would soon leave Caine to play with his own cock. Her tongue slid along the underside of his glans, tickling it. He began to lean forward into her mouth, forcing more and more of his cock into her warm wet cavity. Amy decided that she would fool him in front of the crowd; she would be more willing than he had bargained for. She suddenly thrust her head all the way down on his cock, until her nose was buried in the kinky hair that sprouted at the base of his cock.
Caine was astonished to see Amy take the initiative. He jerked his cock out of her throat and added another stripe to the one already on her back.
"What are you trying to do?" he asked, nonplussed for the moment. He withdrew his cock completely from between Amy's smiling lips. "Oh, so you think you're funny do you? Well, maybe I can wipe that smile off your face. Turn around, bitch, and hike your smelly tail high in the air."
Nothing he could do now will hurt me, Amy said to herself. I have had the satisfaction of making him lose his composure, of taking suddenly from him that feeling of absolute power he needs to live. Her ass tilted up into the dim air of the ballroom.
"Perhaps you do need a little more obedience training," Caine said smugly. "A little lesson now would provide some entertainment for our friends. Take this, bitch!" He crouched behind Amy and rammed his now hard cock brutally up her sloppy cunt. Amy lurched forward from the blow, but soon gained her balance and submitted to his bruising thrusts. The cum left behind from Curt's outburst softened the thrusts somewhat, so she was able to withstand his punishing fucking.
But just as she began to relax and almost enjoy the fucking, she felt something hard edge into the tight ring of her asshole. Good lord, Amy thought, how many cocks does he have? She looked over her shoulder to see what was attempting to squeeze up her asshole. She nearly fainted when she saw that Caine was buggering her with the thick handle of his whip. The hard leather-wrapped wood ripped her tissues as it went painfully past her snug sphincter muscle.
"Stop! Stop!" she yelled back at Caine. But he was deaf to her pleas. The handle moved inexorably, awkwardly up her asshole. And at the same time, the ringmaster's cock tore into her raw cunt.
Amy hung her head down; she thought she would have to faint soon, and put herself out of this misery. But she retained consciousness, feeling every awful minute that the barbarous whip handle ground its way upward into her bowels. She thought she would crap when the blunt end finally reached the end of its journey. Caine jiggled it inside her, cutting her tender walls with the edges of the leather strips that were wound around the wood.
"How's that?" he asked her. "Are you still ready to play games, or will you leave that to me from now on?"
Amy didn't know why, but something inside her (perhaps the combination of cock up the pussy and whip handle up the asshole) made her defiant when she should have been meek and subservient.
"Go fuck yourself, old man!" she yelled back at him, her voice quavering with rage. "Right now, you have to force people to fuck you. And pretty soon, you won't be able to get it up at all!"
That hit a wrong chord in Caine.
"AAAaaaggrrhhh," he screamed, unable even to formulate words, so intense was his anger. He shoved the whip handle in to the brutal hilt; then, taking hold of the long length of leather, he beat Amy unmercifully over the back, digging into her soft flesh with the thin strip of whip.
Amy was nearly senseless from the pain attacking her at three spots. She prayed feverishly that Curt would come back from getting the car and pull this madman off her. But not one of the guests came forward to help her.
Finally it was Caine's own sense of pride and propriety that saved her. After his initial uncontrollable outburst, he calmed down, aware that he had blown his cool in front of a room full of his friends and acquanitances. Laughing uneasily, he ceased whipping Amy's red-stripped back. The next moment, he rudely jerked the whip handle out of her agonized asshole; and lastly, he backed his cock from her poor cunt.
"I guess that's enough for tonight," he said, breathing heavily. "You can go back to your cage, beast. I will take care of you later, when there aren't so many watchful eyes on us. Get up, bitch, and get out of my sight!"
Amy staggered to her feet, hardly daring to believe that he had finished with her. She could barely stand; her anus was ruined, her back was streaming blood from the cuts inflicted by the whip. Gathering her flimsy harem costume to her chest, she made her way blindly to the stairs. In the ballroom, the party continued uninterrupted.
At the bottom of the stairs, Amy was stopped by a hand on her arm. She froze instantly, thinking it was Caine coming back to finish off what he had started back there with the whip.
"May I help?" a soft voice said. Amy looked up to see a woman dressed like a gypsy smiling at her.
"Joey?" Amy whispered afraid to trust her voice after the emotional experience she had just been through.
"Yes," the gypsy said. "Come on. I'll help you up to your room."
They negotiated the steps slowly, since Amy could not move without wincing. Joey held her up until they were safely behind the bedroom door. There was no lock on the inside, so the gypsy braced a chair under the knob; it would not keep anyone out, but it would give the two women time to prepare themselves for the visitor.
Joey hurried to get out of her costume. She made Amy lie down on the bed after she had washed the blood off her back.
"Curt told me everything while that monster was fucking you," Joey said. "Honey, I'm so sorry this had to happen to you. You're just not cut out for rough play. Of course, I'm not sure that anyone, even me, could take what you took just now. Here, hurry up and put on this costume. I'll gather up a few things, a robe and some underwear, until you can get settled again in your old place."
Amy slowly put on the gypsy outfit while Joey packed the clothing in a pillowcase. She then found an evening dress in the closet and put that on. Both still wore their black masks.
"I just hope Caine doesn't get a good look at you when you leave. Just let Curt say the good-byes. I mean, he might notice that I came to his party a blonde and left it a redhead. The party wasn't that good!"
Amy smiled, so happy to be with Joey. For the first time she recognized what those other girls back at nursing school had seen in her. Joey was a vibrant person, and was completely devoted to her friends.
"Let me see if the coast is clear," Joey said. She cautiously cracked open the door and peered out. "There's no one on the landing. I better check out the stairs too."
She left the room, but was back in a few seconds. "It's perfect," Joey said. "Curt is near the bottom of the stairs right now, making polite conversation with some monstrous woman. Hurry up now and go meet him. Try to remember to keep in the dark in case you meet Caine before you get out the front door. I'll follow as soon as I can."
Amy threw herself into Joey's arms.
"I'm so sorry for everything," she cried. "How stupid and mean-minded I was!"
"You were all of that and more," Joey agreed. "But I never stopped loving you, dear." She patted her shoulders maternally. "Now get out of here, before Caine ruins the whole thing. We can cry on each other's shoulder once we're safely home."
No one met her going down the stairs. Curt excused himself from the fat woman he was talking with when he saw Amy descending the stairs.
"Are you okay?" he asked agitatedly. "That awful woman was just telling me about the circus performance I missed when I left to get the car."
"I'm fine, now that you're here," Amy said. "Please, can we leave now?"
"You bet," Curt said. He took her arm and steered her toward the front door.
"What? Going so soon?" The voice stopped them dead in their tracks.
"You keep going to the door," Curt whispered to Amy. "I'll take care of Doctor Webbley Caine."
Amy continued her slow progress to the front door, to safety. Behind her, she could hear the two men conversing.
"Wonderful party, Webbley," Curt was saying. "I got quite a workout from that little belly dancer. But, we really have to leave, since Joey has to get up early for work tomorrow morning."
"That is a shame," Amy heard Caine say. "And things are just starting to roll nicely now. In another hour, you could have had your pick of women to fuck."
Her hand was on the doorknob when she heard Caine say, "I should like to say good night to your lovely companion too. Would you bring her...."
Amy was through the door before he could complete the sentence. She looked around wildly, spotted some bushes that would easily conceal her, and headed for them. She had just hidden behind them when the door opened again and Caine's gray head appeared. He looked around, but did not notice her.
"I suppose Joey decided to take a short walk in the night air," Curt said, coming up alongside the surgeon. "If you'll excuse me, I'll get my car now. Thank you again for the party."
Reluctantly, Caine shook the younger doctor's hand. He peered out into the night again, saw nothing, and turned on his heel to go back into the house.
When the door closed on the surgeon's back, Amy came out of her hiding place.
"There you are," Curt said to her. "That was a close one. I thought for a while the old boy had spotted who you were."
"Oh, hurry, Curt," Amy said. "I don't want to stay here one minute longer than I have to."
"The car's just over this way," he said, leading her by the arm to a small clearing near the house. "I put it here so that we wouldn't get bottled up in case others decided to leave the party at the same time. Uh, listen, Amy, I'll have to take you back to my place for the night, at least."
"Why, that's just where I want to be, darling. You sound worried about it."
"Well, Joey is living there with me, you know."
Amy laughed brightly. "Of course, I know that. I love you, and I love Joey too. I was stupid and prudish before, but all that has changed now. You'll see."
Curt opened the car door for her to get in. He slid into the seat under the steering wheel, and turned the ignition. The motor turned over immediately, and Curt let it idle. He didn't turn on the lights yet.
"Joey should be coming out any time now," Amy said.
"Yes, unless she ran into Caine. We're not out of the woods yet."
"Oh, Joey can always take care of herself," Amy answered confidently. "I'm the one that needs help."
They waited silently for a few minutes. Then they saw light piercing the darkness. A figure carrying a bundle came out of the light, and it was all dark again.
"There she is," Curt said. He threw the car into gear and brought it up quickly to the front door. Amy moved over closer to him, and Joey hopped in beside her.
"Nothing to it," the blonde said, as the car sped off into the night. "Now let's all go home and get to know each other better."
They wound down the narrow road, heading back to the city.
7
"I want to take a look at that back," Curt said.
They were in his apartment, all three knocking back a stiff drink. The ride home had been hectic. Curt had pushed the car as fast as he had dared, trying to quickly put as much space as possible between Amy and Caine's country house. They were all very tired now.
Amy stood and stripped off the borrowed gypsy costume. She had to remove the inner piece very gingerly, as it was partly stuck to her back from the blood that had oozed from the whip wounds.
"Come over here," Curt said. He scrutinized her slashed back, probing delicately with his fingers for further injuries. "It doesn't look too bad," he said. "I see only about ten long cuts. We can put ointment on those, bandage them, and you'll be as good as new in a couple of weeks. I doubt if there will be any scars; the wounds are superficial and should heal easily."
"Well, that's good news," Joey said. "I'll get the medicine and bandages, and we'll have you fixed up in no time, honey."
Picking up her drink again, Amy walked slowly around the small living room. She felt at ease now, safe now. Her back did not hurt very much, and she knew Curt and Joey would take good care of her. Even her nudity felt comfortable now; she had nothing to hide from these two people. She drained her glass of the strong liquor.
"The last time we had a drink together was quite a night," Amy said to Curt. "I want to make up for that now. There's a lot I must make up for with Joey too. I've treated you both very badly."
Curt pulled her close to him. "There will be plenty of time for that later. Right now, we've got to get you back in good shape again."
"I feel wonderful just being here with you two," Amy said, sitting down on the young doctor's lap. "I feel like I've escaped from hell to heaven. Really, Curt, my back doesn't hurt very much now. Let me make up for that awful night when I turned you down."
Curt brushed his hand softly against her firm tits. The nipples sprang up at his touch. It would not take much for him to go along with Amy; his cock was showing signs of life too, stirring inside his underwear. He was still pawing Amy's luscious breasts when Joey came back in with the medical stuff.
The blonde understood immediately what was happening. "Great," she said, "but first, let's fix up her back. We can't have an infection setting in."
"Of course," Curt agreed. In a few minutes, they had cleaned, treated and bandaged Amy's crisscrossed back. "Test that, Amy," the doctor said.
She sat down on the couch and pressed her back into it. "Nothing," she said. "It doesn't hurt at all. You two are pretty good at your job, huh?"
"The best," Joey laughed. "Now, what do you say, we turn in and renew old friendships?"
"Great idea," Amy said. She stood up and stretched, her raised arms lifting her tits invitingly. "You two have to get naked too. I'm tired of being the center attraction."
"But you'll be the center attraction even after we undress," Joey said. The blonde stepped out of the long evening dress she had taken from Amy's closet at the country house. "Now let's help Curt get out of that ridiculous knight suit. St. George, indeed!"
The two naked woman unzipped the fake chain mail suit and pulled it from the young doctor's body. Then, while Joey lifted his undershirt over his head, Amy pushed down his drawers to his ankles and slipped them off completely.
"You're almost ready to go now," Amy said.
Curt's cock nodded up and down in front of Amy's face. It was still limber, not yet rigid enough to poke up a cunt. Amy had only to move a couple of inches forward to take the burgeoning member into her warm mouth. She inclined her head and rubbed her cheek against the puffy head of his cock.
"It took me a long time to realize what this cock means to me," Amy said softly. "I hope I can do right by it from now on."
"You're making a good start," Joey said. "Get it functional and we can go into the bedroom, honey."
Amy put out her tongue, lightly touching the tip of his cock with it. The supple penis jerked away as if electricity had suddenly coursed through it. Amy's tongue went to it again. This time she held it steady, so that her tongue could linger over the stiffening cock, teasing it to a plump erectness.
"That's a reasonable facsimile of rigidity," Joey said. "Let's hit the feathers and get on with the real thing."
Clutching the young doctor's cock, Amy led him into the bedroom. Joey was right behind. She stripped the covers from the king-sized bed and piled them up in a corner.
The blonde hopped onto the paisley sheets. "How about making a triangle, on our sides, since Amy has a sore back? Nobody object? Well, come on in then!"
Curt stretched out on the bed with his curly head at Joey's bushy twat. Amy followed him, her head at his groin, her cunt against Joey's mouth. They each had something to do.
Amy drew one leg up and spread her thighs. The blonde parted Amy's little auburn beard and inserted her tongue in the glistening pink crack.
"Ooooohh," Amy moaned, "that feels so good, so soothing. The last time you ate my cunt, I hated you. Now I want you to do it." She tousled the blonde's hair. "Lick my pussy, Joey. Make the juices pour out."
Joey assumed the same open leg position and Curt stuck his probing tongue up her snatch. The blonde's hips wiggled from that first hot touch, and Curt burrowed deeper, slipping his spindled tongue up her pussy hole.
The young doctor's thick shaft tilted upward from his groin. Amy had to pull it down into her waiting mouth. It was still in the process of growing, and she knew that as she worked on it, it would swell until it filled her oral cavity like a boiled sausage. She would be stuffed to the gills with cock.
In her position, Amy's nose was right up against Curt's testicles. She had a chance to study his sexual organs from close up. His balls, great chunks of ovoid meat, hung down from between his legs in a sac of leathery skin. Fine black hairs were sprinkled over the scrotum; they formed a line and went back to his asshole, which they circled in tufts. Amy buried her nose in his nuts, sniffing in that great rank male odor. She coiled her lips around the mushroom-shaped head of his cock and sucked hard.
Meanwhile, Curt's vibrating tongue was going up Joey's cunt passage like a hot poker. From the way he was situated, the young doctor could not reach the blonde's tits, which were collapsed against her chest. But he could grab hold of Amy's top breast-and he did. His other hand he used to squeeze Joey's spongy asscheeks.
Joey's tongue gorged Amy's pussy. The thick smooth organ raced up and down her slit, from asshole to clitoris, covering everything with a thin film of saliva. When Amy was properly primed, Joey began to concentrate on her clit, sucking at the red beacon until Amy's hips squirmed with pleasure. The round robin of sex went on.
Amy wrestled Curt's hardening cock with her tongue, squashing her tongue against his strong shaft, whipping tantalizingly around his glans with the tip of her frenetic organ. With Joey's tongue worming around her pussy, Amy was inspired to inhale Curt's fat cock, drawing more and more back into her mouth. Her tongue worked double-time on the underside of his advancing dick.
And the energy was passed on to Curt, whose tongue was scrambling around the blonde's experienced cunt. At the moment, he was licking the inside of her puffy pubic lips, scooping up the encrusted pussy cream that clung to the labia. With her ass gyrating against him, he was having a difficult time controlling his actions. He finally had to release Amy's tit and Joey's ass, so that he could use both hands to pry back the blonde's pussylips and keep the channel of communication open.
Joey felt it was getting time to move on; she was ready to escalate the action. Her cunt was enjoying the licking it was getting; but she preferred to have that fat cock sliding up her greased channel. Still, these things had their own natural rhythm, and she knew that Curt and Amy were not yet prepared to move on to the next phase. So she said nothing, but continued to toy with Amy's clit until she was bored with doing that. She slipped her head down a little to explore the auburn-haired girl's vagina with her restless tongue.
Amy's insides were already rippling with knots from the action at her mouth and crotch. She chomped down on Curt's expanded dick, liking the feel of that hot meat tube between her teeth. She didn't bite hard enough to hurt him though, just hard enough for him to know his cock was being well attended to. She realized the cock was hard enough now to push its way up even the tightest asshole; it would soon be time to get on to other things.
Curt too was feeling the need to move on; for him, oral sex was only a preparation for fucking, not the end of the line. He enjoyed eating pussy, but he enjoyed sticking his fat cock up a well-oiled cunt even more. But he didn't want to be the one to suggest the move to the next phase; he would leave that up to the girls.
And Joey suddenly stopped sloshing her tongue around Amy's delicate cunt, and raised her head.
"Okay, gang," she said, "it's time to get it on. I want to feel the good doctor's cock crammed up my slippery hole. That is, if Amy can relinquish it for a couple of minutes. She's got quite a headlock on that thick monster."
Amy uncorked her mouth. "I'm game," she said. "But his cock can only go so far. Since I don't want to be left out, I think I'll just take Curt's place and wiggle my tongue around your pussy for a while, Joey. That is, if it's fine with you two."
"Help yourself," Joey said. "But if you're eating my cunt, how is Curt going to fuck me, honey?"
Curt had an answer to that. "Suppose I stick it up your asshole instead? I could dig that. And I know for a fact that you aren't morally opposed to butt-fucking."
"Just drop in anyplace, lover boy," the blonde said, grinning broadly. "I got more holes than a slab of Swiss cheese."
"I hope that doesn't make me a rat, though," Curt came back.
"No, honey," Joey said. "It makes you a plumber. Now, cut the bright patter, and let's sort ourselves out. This is a regular problem in geometry!"
After trying and being dissatisifed with a few positions, they settled on one that each could feel comfortable with. Curt would lie on his back; Joey would lower herself onto his stiff pole, facing his feet. Amy would kneel between their outspread legs, or lie, resting on her elbows, and apply her tongue to Joey's gaping pussy.
Curt stretched out on the bed, his meaty rod waving in the air, twitching at the tip like a coker spaniel's nose. Joey straddled his body, her ass poised just above the fidgety cock. Then she remembered that she had to grease up her asshole to make that first penetration bearable. She scooped up cream from her own pussy and from Amy's and rubbed it into and around her winking asshole. When she felt sufficiently anointed, she began to slowly settle on the bulging cock. She rolled around on the head of his cock until it too was coated with the viscous cunt fluid; then she sank down on the blunt head, forcing it past the tough cramped outer ring of her asshole. The clenched muscle gave way reluctantly, but it did give way; and Curt had an inch inside her crapper.
"I bet you wish you'd had a good meaty cock up your asshole instead of that whip handle back at the party," Joey said to Amy. "There's nothing like a little buggery to cure a bad case of constipation. How does it look, with me sitting on top of this human flagpole? You think I might start a new fad at the colleges?"
Joey grabbed her cheeks and held them apart so that Amy could better watch Curt's pecker enter her anus. She was getting as excited as the blonde, and could feel her pussy replenishing the juices that Joey had taken. She gathered up Joey's large loose titties and played with them, teasing the nipples until they poked out like little scarlet dunce caps. Then she capped the nipple of one tit with her mouth, her hand pinching and twisting the other one. Her tongue crawled over the heard cone, circling it, wetting it.
Joey closed her eyes, tossed her head back, and drove her ass downward, stuffing her anal passage with Curt's massive cock. She joggled up and down on it, loving the friction in her cramped hole.
Amy released the blonde's tits and dropped down to her gaping slash. It was nice and hot, and Amy's tongue slithered up and down, feeling out the ample pussy. Joey's pussy seemed wider to her than her own, and she wondered if she would get that way too after years of repeated fucking. Her tongue slid easily up the leaking passage. She fluttered it and was delighted to feel Joey respond by shaking her ass around on Curt's immense pecker. The pebbly texture of Joey's cunt walls felt nice on Amy's tongue. She had never eaten pussy before, and it was as much an educational as a sexual experience for her. She was learning about her own cunt by licking Joey's.
Joey was enjoying her ride on the hot seat. Curt's cock thumped inside of her, straining to reach upward and nudge her sagging bowels. Her narrow channel was being pleasantly crushed by the girth of the young doctor's pile-driving cock. Joey rode up and down as if she were on a pogo stick.
Amy had her mouth flattened against Joey's rising and falling cunt. Her tongue backed out from the pussy hole and rose to flip around the blonde's unusually large clit. The clit stuck out like a small thumb. Amy sucked it in, testing its resiliency with her active tongue. Her mouth hugged the red nub, her tongue skimming over it, nicking it with sharp strokes. Joey was going wild from the effects of both the sucking and the buggering. She was jerking around so much that Amy had trouble fixing her mouth now around the pliable ruby clit.
"Listen," Joey said, "you should be getting in on this too, Amy. After all, you're not here to perform services for this butt-fucking lug and myself. Now, I'm going to turn around and face Curt's head. I want you to squat over his face and let him lick some refined pussy for a change."
Amy let go of Joey's cunt and took up her new position on Curt's face. His tongue immediately swabbed her from top to bottom of her crack, doing the general groundwork before getting down to specifics. She found too that she could still massage Joey's clit, this time with her hand. Again, the three of them were in a triangle, this time a human pyramid of sweating trembling flesh.
The blonde's ass was flat against Curt's belly now, and his cock was butting her bowels. He continued to push upward, but there was nowhere else for him to go; every inch of his bloated dick was lodged inside her asshole. He kept up the crunching jackhammer drives, but his attention was focused now on Amy's cunt. He whirled his tongue rapidly around her clit, trying to help her catch up with him and Joey.
His hot breath on her pussy petals made Amy's heart beat faster. If he went along at his present breakneck clip, it wouldn't be long before she passed the two of them. His tongue split her thighs, and wedged itself into her pulsing hole. Amy clamped her thighs around his head, then eased up a bit, fearful of suffocating the curly-headed doctor. She arched her back, straining to make room for the thrilling sensations that continually burst through her body from her snatch. Curt was vibrating her clit with the tip of his tongue and it was making her delirious with pleasure. Her stomach muscles were taut, drawn tight as the skin on his battering cock.
Joey was approaching the climax point also. She clawed at her own breasts, pinching the red buds of her nipples, compressing the mounds of her tits with her nimble fingers. Amy was meanwhile stroking madly at the blonde's crotch, running her hand up and down the slippery crack. Her ass was pumping violently up and down on Curt's rigid shaft, screwing her ass like a madwoman. Her butt waggled and writhed, getting the full feel of the piercing prick.
They were all now at the point of no return. The explosion rocked Joey's body first. When the spasms started, her eyes rolled around wildly, and she tossed her head from side to side, as if she were trying to shake off a demon.
Amy's climax came more subtly. She felt a queer quivering start at her crotch and then slowly disperse itself through her body. She rammed her streaming pussy down into Curt's face and let him catch his breath any way he could. He had to absorb all the shocks of her ecstasy.
With two women on top of him sparking away with orgasms, Curt could not hold back very long. He had to come in self-defense, if for no other reason. His climax, too, came piece-meal. It seemed to start at the tip of his cock, which was banging unrelievedly into Joey's bowels; it traveled down through his invading shaft. When it reached his balls, the deluge began. He felt as if he were being drained of all the moisture in his body. The women's climaxes seemed to spur him on, and he didn't stop fucking as the sperm ejected into the blonde's clutching asshole. His tongue didn't tire either; he plunged it far up Amy's cunt, provoking more spasms from her already riotous flesh. He cupped her cheeks and lifted her ass up a little, though, so that he could take an occasional breath of air. The room was full of the smell of fucking.
There seemed to be a fire in Amy's cunt. And she was doing her best to put it out by mashing her twat into Curt's face and by releasing a torrent of juices. Her pussy twittered as the flames tickled it. On impulse, Amy leaned forward and pulled the blonde's quaking torso to her. Amy thrust her tongue into the buggered girl's mouth and chased her tongue. They linked and rubbed wetly against each other. Both women were carried away with the intensity of their orgasm. Joey had Curt's floods of cum to urge her on; Amy had the young doctor's tireless tongue in her twat.
As the two women's tongues were flickering over each other, Curt was getting swamped by his own cum. Joey's asshole could not contain it all, and gobs were finding their way out the hole and dribbling back onto the doctor. The more he spurted into Joey, the more fell back onto him. The blonde's ass was getting chapped from rubbing around in the pool of cum.
Amy swayed drunkenly over Curt, still holding on to Joey. She thought she would pass out from the intensity of the climax. Then, abruptly, it was over. The powerful surgings were gone, and Amy simply felt worn out. She disengaged herself from Joey's arms and Curt's mouth, and fell back onto the bed. The night had been too much for her.
Joey and Curt showed signs of slowing down too, but the blonde was not one to give up easily. She continued to hump the cock up her asshole, eliciting still more creamy hunks that slipped out and collected at the base of the thrusting prick. Even if Curt had wanted to move, he could not have; Joey had him pinned to the bed. He decided the only way to make her quit was to turn her pleasure into pain. He reached up and grabbed the red knobs on her tits and twisted with all his might. The blonde let out a blood-curdling scream.
"What the fuck you trying to do?" she yelled at him.
Curt smiled up at her. "I'm just trying to preserve my poor cock," he said. "Maybe you haven't noticed, but I'm not spraying your insides with cum anymore. We're both a mess. And I know it takes something drastic to bring you down out of the clouds. So hop off, honey, and give a man a chance to fuck again in his lifetime."
Muttering about pansies and mother's boys, Joey climbed off Curt's winkled pole and joined Amy on the bed. She hadn't realized how exhausted she was until she stopped fucking. Curt, too, lay back as if he were in a coma.
"You two really are a mess," Amy said. "Do you want me to clean you up?"
Joey felt around her enlarged asshole. She brought back a hand sticky, gummy with sperm.
"Hhmmm," she said. "I think I'll just jump in the shower for a couple of minutes. I'll probably be crapping cum for the next five days."
Joey went into the bathroom and turned on the faucets for her shower. She wet a wash cloth and tossed it to Amy, who proceeded to clean up the mess around Curt's cock.
"I'm never ceased to be amazed at how much sperm you men can deliver," the auburn-haired beauty said. "There must be bucketfuls waiting to rise out of your balls."
"I think they all got out tonight," Curt laughed.
"Now lie still while I clean up this pile of gook," Amy said. She mopped up the sperm that was sloshing around Curt's belly and running down his thighs. Then she started to wipe off his cock. As soon as she touched it, it sprang back to life, rising almost miraculously after that enervating fuck.
"Just like Jack and the beanstalk," Amy said, impressed at the young doctor's recuperative powers. "You know, if you can manage it, I'd like to have a taste of that big dick of yours in my cunt. I'm still all wet, and not too sore to take you on for a while."
"It's a deal," Curt said. "We can slip in a quickie while Joey's taking her shower. Just give me a few licks for good luck, and we're on our way."
Amy bowed her head and took in the ravaged head of his cock. She smoothed the roughened corona with her soft tongue. Then she licked down the sides of his shaft, scooping up the last remains of his just finished ejaculation.
"Stick it in me, lover boy," she said, affecting Joey's style. "Honey, I feel like I could wear out a whole regiment tonight."
Joey walked out of the bathroom just in time to see Curt mount her former roommate.
"Jesus," she said, "you act like we won't be alive to fuck again tomorrow. Listen, babes, I can wait a little while and savor the same thing as a new discreet experience tomorrow night." She wrapped her hair in a towel and went off to look for a cigarette.
Amy and Curt giggled like two children as they made love to each other. It seemed to them to be a completely new experience, as if they had discovered innocence through sex. There was nothing frantic about their movements; they were gentle with each other, considerate of the other's needs.
The mood was shattered when the doorbell began to ring insistently, raucously. Neither wanted to answer it, for that would mean abandoning the juncture they were happy with.
"Oh, you needn't worry about moving to get that," Joey said, walking into the bedroom. "I'll just shut the door and you can go right on fucking. It's probably just a drunk anyway. I suppose he either lost the keys to his own apartment, or he thinks this is his own apartment and is standing out there, wondering why his key doesn't fit in the lock tonight."
She tightened the towel so that it wouldn't unwrap her her hair.
"I've got to put on some clothes though. I might shock the poor guy and make him go on the wagon. Let's see." She looked around for something to cover her nakedness, found the bag with Amy's things, pulled out a bright robe and threw it around herself. "Keep on trucking, keep on fucking," she said, and went out, closing the bedroom door after her, to answer the doorbell.
"I love her and I love you," Amy told Curt. "I hope we can go on living together for ever."
"We will," Curt said. "Nothing can break us up now. I only wish-"
A terrifying scream from the living room stopped Curt in mid-sentence.
"What the fuck?" he said, jumping up from Amy. "You wait here," he told her. "I'll see what's going on."
Without bothering to put on his pants, Curt rushed into the living room. What he saw there made his stomach contract in revulsion. Dr. Webbley Caine, his gray hair flying, was slashing viciously at Joey with a surgical scalpel.
"Good God!" Curt screamed. "Stop it! Stop it!" He felt defenseless; he had no weapons, not even a piece of clothing he could wrap around his arm to help protect himself from the sharp edge of the scalpel. Out of desperation, he picked up the nearest small chair, and wielding it, advanced on the surgeon. "Get back!" Curt yelled. "Get back and leave that woman alone!"
But Caine seemed completely mad. He was deaf to the young doctor's shouts; he continued to hack at Joey's body, ripping off the bright colored robe to better slice away at her flesh. Blood spurted from severed arteries, flowed from deep cuts in her sides, on her back. One breast dangled by a slim gory thread. One gaping hole opened on each cheek of her ass, like pocket vents. She was trying to hold on to the back of the couch, turning her back to the maniac with the scalpel; her arms were raised to protect her head.
Sick to the stomach, Curt hurried over to the struggling woman and began to beat Caine over the head and the shoulders with the chair. It seemed to have no effect on the surgeon. His shiny instrument, used to save so many lives before, caught at the white flesh, carved it into unrecognizable shapes and patterns.
"You're fucking crazy!" Curt kept yelling at Caine as he finally broke the chair over the older man's head. He picked up a thick leg and hit the surgeon again and again. But Caine seemed not to notice what was happening to himself. All his being was concentrated on mangling the woman clutching the back of the sofa.
Hearing Curt's shouts, and the crash of furniture, Amy pulled on a dress she found in the closet and walked into the living room.
She was shocked into incomprehension by the sight that awaited her there. "Curt?" she asked, her mind refusing to understand the scene, "what's going on here?"
"Go back to the bedroom!" Curt shouted at her. "Call the police! Caine has gone crazy, Amy!"
Webbley Caine stooped suddenly still. "Amy?" he said. "Amy? You can't be Amy. I'm killing Amy right now!"
Before he could recover, Curt knocked the scalpel from his hand with the chair leg. It skittered across the floor and came to rest near Amy's feet. She picked it up, looked at it as if she had never seen anything like it before. Then she screamed and let the sharp instrument of death and life fall to the floor. She looked at her hands. They were covered with Joey's blood.
"I'm going to wash my hands," she said-and dropped in a dead faint.
Curt quickly wrestled the gray-haired doctor into submission. All the fight was gone from him now. He crumpled like a paper bag.
Curt didn't know what to do first. He had a homocidal maniac, a seriously wounded woman, and a blacked out woman on his hands. Where to begin? He started by leaping across the room to retrieve the bloody scalpel. He threw it into the bedroom and shut the door. Caine had not moved from the spot on the floor where he had fallen. Curt decided to use the telephone next. He called police headquarters, blurted out his name and address, said some incoherent things about murder and madness, and asked them, told them, to hurry over with a squad car and an ambulance.
"I thought it was Amy," Caine was still mumbling. "Who did I kill? She was wearing the robe I gave to Amy. Why didn't I kill Amy?"
"Shut up, you fucking nut!" Curt screamed at him, his nerves jangling. "You killed Joey, and the cops will be here in a few minutes. Now sit still or I'll cut your fucking neck with that scalpel!"
Feeling that Caine would not be any further trouble, Curt gave all his attention to the wounded blonde. There were so many stabs and slashes, he didn't know where to start first. He ripped apart the bloody robe she had been wearing, and used strips to cut off the blood shooting like fountains from the sliced arteries. That done, he tried to stop the flow of blood from the other wounds. There were just too many, too many. But the girl was still alive.
"Joey, Joey can you hear me?" he asked over and over as he worked on her. No answer. The couch, the floor were sticky with cooling blood. There was so much blood on the blonde's body now, the young doctor could not find the wounds fast enough to close off the flow.
And Caine kept repeating, "I wanted to kill Amy. Who did I kill? I wanted to but that redhead to death."
The doorbell rang. Knocking shook the door in its frame.
"Police!" someone yelled from the hall. "Let us in!"
Wearily, Curt left the body of the bleeding woman and unlocked the door. Uniformed officers, men in baggy suits, medical attendants in white, rushed into the living room. Curt was overpowered by two officers, his arms pinned behind his back.
"Okay, fella," one said, "start talking, and talk fast. You had better make this good!"
Curt smiled weakly at them. "I'd like to make it good," he said. "But I think the situation is beyond that point."
When Curt knocked on Room 237 the next day, he was reminded of the police at his apartment door the night before. A small voice told him to come in, and he pushed the door open.
Amy was sitting up in bed, her coarse white hospital gown open at the throat, and exposing a healthy cleavage.
"How are you feeling today?" Curt asked, pulling his chair close to the side of the bed.
Amy smiled at him. There were dark rings under her eyes that said she had not rested well.
"Are you asking as a doctor or as a lover?" she queried him.
"Both," he said, taking her hand in his own. He looked carefully at her face. "I'd say you had an awful night, but that you feel much better this morning."
"I feel much better since you walked in," she told him. "But I'm curious as hell. Nobody would tell me anything. Now, honestly, Curt, I want to know what happened last night. I'm not a baby. I can take it."
A grim look replaced the smile on the young doctor's face. He patted her hand, then moved back a little and took out a cigarette. He lit it and inhaled deeply.
"It's not at all pretty," he said. "Well, here it is. Doctor Webbley Caine went crazy last night and slashed Joey to death with his scalpel."
"Oh!" Amy exclaimed, sucking in her breath. "I ... I remember something now. I came into the living room when I heard all that commotion. But I didn't know what was going on. Then something clattered at my feet. I picked it up, dropped it, looked at my hands, and ... and that's all I recall."
"Well, I'm sure the police will be in here soon enough to write all that down." He blew out a long stream of smoke.
"Joey's dead?" Amy asked him, as if she still couldn't quite believe it. "But why? Why?"
"All I know is what the police told me last night after they had questioned Caine. Apparently, he came to my place to kill you. He knew you had escaped from him, and that was a severe shock to his pride. It unhinged his mind too, I guess. Anyway, he went to your apartment, found no one there, and hurried over to my apartment. When Joey opened the door, he thought she was you. You see, she was wearing a robe he had given you-and with her blonde hair wrapped in a towel, he couldn't tell from that color that he had the wrong girl. I suppose his rage was so blind that he started slashing at her, on the basis of that robe, before he even knew what he was doing."
Amy buried her face in her hands. "So it's my fault that Joey is dead?"
Curt tried to console her. "You can't say that, darling. Caine was a mad man last night; he might have killed me if I had been the one to answer the door. Or, looking at it another way, the whole thing started when Joey moved into your apartment and began to fuck me. You could say it was her fault. You could say it was my fault for letting you get so depressed you wound up in Caine's web. You can only needlessly torture yourself by taking the blame on your own shoulders."
Amy threw her arms around him and pulled him down to her. "Oh, I know you're right, darling, but it was all so sudden."
"Yes, it was," Curt agreed, his mind flashing back to the awful image of the bloody scalpel descending again and again into the flesh of the helpless blonde. He shuddered. "But it's over with now. It was too much for you last night. You went into shock and passed out. Thank God, you were spared that terrible experience!"
"Now there's just the two of us," Amy said.
"How strange. A month ago all I wanted was for the two of us to be together and love each other. Then Joey came and it all seemed to go up in smoke. Now, Joey is gone again, and we're left with each other again. There's an awful symmetry to that!"
"Well nothing can tear us apart this time. If Joey is gone, so is Webbley Caine. With our testimony, he should sit out the rest of his days in a padded room, bound in a straight jacket."
"Oh, love me, Curt!" Amy said suddenly. "I'm scared, and I want to feel you're really mine, that you will be here with me, in me, for always!"
"You mean, make love here, right now?" Curt asked. He thought a moment, then looked at the auburn-haired girl's begging eyes. "Of course." He smiled down at her. "I'll give you my special, deluxe cure."
Amy made room for him in the narrow bed. She was trembling and the young doctor had to hold her tightly to calm her down. She clung to him fearfully. Gently as he could, Curt stripped her of the hospital gown and removed his own outfit. His cock was curled up against her thigh. Amy reached out to stroke it and it grew slowly in her palm.
"How wonderful," Amy said softly. "I love your cock. I need it in me right now. I need the reassurance of your love."
Curt moved his hand over her cunt. It was not wet yet. He frigged her clit gently with his thumb while his forefinger slipped into her dry hole. In a couple of minutes, she was flowing with juices. Curt wiggled his finger in her hole until her ass began to shift on the bed.
"Oh, Curt," Amy moaned, pulling his head down so that she could nibble on his ear lobe. "Everything has been so terrible, hasn't it? When will my life go right for a change? You know what? I think it will be fine from now on, with you to love me and fuck me. And that's what I want you to do now, darling. I want you to fill my pussy with your healing meat. I want your cock to cure me of my ills, my darling doctor."
"Of course, love," Curt said. He crawled over her body and pressed his hot lips to hers. Their tongue met in his mouth and kissed each other.
Amy lowered her hand and grabbed his penis to guide it into her lubricated cunt. She spread her thighs wider apart and deposited the head of his cock at the entrance to her leaking hole. Curt popped the head of his thick pecker inside and started the slow rolling movements that meant a long, easy fuck.
She waggled her ass from side to side, until his pole had advanced to the mouth of her womb.
"Now I feel you're really in me darling," Amy said. "Am I enough woman to keep you to myself from now on?"
Curt see-sawed his cock in and out of her wet tunnel. "You crazy redhead," he said, panting hard, "you're woman enough for three men!"
Amy felt her climax approaching. It came so soon, she was astonished. She figured it must be all that tension built up in her from last night that needed release. And as she went into spasms, she felt her insides being slapped with Curt's searing cum.
"Oh darling, darling," she moaned. "Let's forget the past. Let's fuck ourselves into the future!"
She wrapped her legs around his waist and the only thing on her mind was Curt's fat cock ramming its load up her newly freed cunt. She was free at last, but the price in blood and innocence had been high. Still, what really mattered was her freedom, and she knew that.
"Cock and cunt," Amy told the young curly-haired doctor. "That's all that will count from now on."