The small theater balcony was faintly illuminated by the intense beam of light flung from the projection booth, and by reflection from the screen far to the front.
In the topmost rows . . . "flesh heaven" .. . make-out couples from the local high school were gathered.
Sherri Rudd was there, in the top row far wall seat, breathing heavily as Max Leahy kissed her and moved his left hand inside her unbuttoned blouse. His palm was hot on her warm flesh. Her nipple bloomed as he squeezed the sensitive pink-ness with gently cruel fingers. She opened her full-lipped mouth wider under his kiss. An itchy trickle of sensation wormed through her belly, triggered by the fondling of her big braless breasts and his long tonigue tickled the roof of her mouth, sending sparks of special lust through her. Her finely shaped nostrils flared, her brown eyes lazily opened for a few seconds as she peered through disarranged strands of her long, straight blonde hair.
Her slender arms tightened around his thick, muscular neck and she moaned softly as his stubby fingers again tweaked Ker hardened right nipple. She tightened her fingers in his shaggy hair.
Her moan was lost beyond the next few seats since the sounds from the film being shown were loud-fast-paced chase music, the drum of hoof-beats as the technicolor western approached its ritual climax, and the steady whirring of the huge projector in the booth.
Other, nearby couples heard her, but they didn't bother looking around. Sherri's moan was echoed by another young girl who was slumped in a seat, her smooth, plump thighs spread, her boyfriend's hand there, rubbing, his finger sliding in the hot juices of her young, passionate body. His hand rested on her plump, curving mound, rubbing on the thin triangle of fur, as his middle finger sank into her wet channel.
On the other side of the projection booth a longhaired college boy tensed as his girl lovingly pumped him off. His organ was stiff in her white, moving hand, the mauve crown appearing and disappearing as the skin rose and fell in her tight grip. The boy groaned and stopped her. "Not yet," he whispered.
Some couples only kissed. Some fondled
through clothing. Some sat and smoked and watched the film. It was only ten-thirty. There was plenty of time.
During the long, sensual kiss with Max, Sherd's eyes focused on the projection booth door which stood open a few inches. It was a hot summer night and the balcony was an oven. She saw the camera operator standing there, a slim, good-looking man in his early forties, watching her and Max. The interior of the projection room was dark except for the tiny, harsh stabs of light from the working projector housing. But Sherri's eyes were well-adjusted to the dimness. She could see the bulge of the man's arousal as he observed her and Max and the other couples. He wore tan work pants and the bulge was long down his leg.
Then, as she watched, he slowly unzipped and reached into his fly. He was watching the girl two rows higher and to the right of Sherri-the girl who was getting fingerfucked faster and faster, deeper and deeper. Her skirt was rucked up and her panties were off, a tightly-clutched ball of nylon and elastic in her left hand. The girl's eyes were closed. Her date was too busy watching his finger sluice in and out, to notice the projectionist who was also watching from the side.
Sherri saw the man fondle his big cock. Then he pulled it out-a long, fat white sausage that projected from his pants an incredible distance. A spasm, hot and exciting, fluttered in her lower belly at the sight of that massive erection. Her breath caught. She quivered as Max's warm fondling of her breast interacted with her other reaction.
She studied the man's face. His bushy hair
needed cutting. His face was narrow, his lips pressed into thin tension lines. His white T-shirt was dark with sweat around the armpits and in front over his belt. Her gaze lowered to fasten again on that long thick cock. The man was slowly pumping it, fisting it, sliding the skin in long, sensual moves out to the end of the shaft, to the knoblike glans.
She had heard of men hung like that-with mules between their legs-but this was the first time in her fifteen years she had seen one. She'd seen and handled and sucked and been fucked by some heavy cocks, but the handle on this man- that thing had to be at least eight or nine inches- or more!
He noticed her looking at him and jerked as if stung, moving guiltily away from the door opening.
Max's hand cupped under her heavy, swooping breast as he whispered, "I'm sure glad you don't wear a bra."
"My mama isn't." Sherri let her right arm slide from around Max's neck, her hand brushing past his arm and falling into his lap. Her fingers found the swelling of his organ in the tough blue jeans. It wasn't nearly as long as the one she had just seen. Sherri knew Max was bigger than most boys in that department. But that man in there must be built like a horse! She shivered and sought Max's eager lips again watching the doorway, but the man didn't appear again.
In the projection room Bruce Wyshak sat on a foam-cushioned stool beside the hot, grinding
projector. He stared at the slowly unreeling film as it fed itself past the big lenses and the blinding, shielded carbon light. It was hypnotic. He was masturbating, but it wasn't good enough. There was a twisting, clenching, desperate yearning in his guts. All around him, every night, kids were doing things, getting each otljer off, boldly, unashamedly, openly.
He licked his thin lips, wiping sweat from his creased forehead with the back of his hand. Every night he had glimpses of young breasts, nipples, thighs. Every night he heard them talking, whispering, moaning, panting.. .. Bruce cursed and got off the stool with a jerky, convulsive movement. His huge, stiff cock waggled heavily. He took a quick step toward the door. He stopped. That blonde would see him watching. The way she had gazed at him! That intent, open-mouthed, panting, personal look!
He ran a hand over his hair. God, to have something young like her hot for him! Not like Ann!
He seized his throbbing organ and savagely began jacking off. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine that girl out there on her knees before him, sucking him, filling her mouth with the head of his meat.
But it wasn't any good-he had done it too many times-he knew he'd spurt and get a weak orgasm, but he wanted more. He was getting older, damn it to hell, and he wanted more! Stuffing his cock back into his pants, he moved to the small, square window and checked the screen. Five minutes to go before the picture ended. Then Intermission.
His eyes drifted toward the door.
Ann Wyshak smiled as she took the ticket from the big, rough-looking boy in a black leather biker's jacket. "Thank you." She ignored the pert-breasted young slut he was with, watching him as they walked up the slight incline toward the candy-popcorn display.
He had husky, wide shoulders, a tapering waist, narrow hips. He swaggered and his thighs and calves bulged in his greasy, skin-tight jeans. Ann's gaze flicked for an instant to the small, hip-flipping girl with him. That type will do anything for a man, she thought. He wouldn't have to force that little chippy!
Unconsciously she chewed the middle of her upper lip. Her fat thighs, under her knee-length dress, tightened against each other. She smoothed her blouse into her skirt waist as she followed the couple. It was time to get behind the goody counter. The picture was about over.
Her eyes lingered on the boy. Maybe he forced her the first time. Ruthlessly! He had the strength! He would rip and grab! Animal! Not like poor, gentle Bruce. But sex was impossible with Bruce anyway. Even if-
Ann served a couple who emerged from the inside as the western ended.
Being a short woman, Ann was plump in the hips and thighs and arms, yet with small, flaccid breasts. Her eyes were sharp and quick, brown marbles that never stopped moving, examining, from behind ornately framed glasses. She was sweating in her girdle and "longline" bra, and as she moved, her thighs chafed. She smiled at a tall, powerful-looking man with a full beard.
Was he a wrestler? He could do anything he wanted with a woman!
Ann was thirty-six. She had married Bruce when she was eighteen. He had been about to go into the army .. . and then the war had ended.
She drew cups of cola, scooped popcorn, made change....
There was that beautiful animal again! A woman would be helpless if he decided to rape her! An itchy heat spread in Ann's loins. She enjoyed it and didn't recognize it. She pressed her armored lower belly against the inside edge of the counter and watched the biker disappear into the auditorium with his girl. Ann was a little breathless.
Then she noticed the tall boy with that tall, skinny, blonde overdeveloped child come down the side steps from the balcony. The girl's long, slender legs flashed below an orange microskirt. The boy wore a white T-shirt over thick, rippling muscles and walked like a cat. He had fluffed sideburns and a thick mustache. As Ann's eyes followed him, she breathed through her mouth ... feeling funny inside. His dark eyes raked through her as they paused and she went icy down her spine.
The girl was saying, wheedlingly, "Ohh, Max ..."
He was like an ape! Long arms. Huge shoulders. He would-
Ann jerked her eyes away. She smiled at a boy who was clicking a coin on the glass candy case. "Yes?"
Part of her awareness-a corner of her eye- watched the couple. That girl with him whose big
breasts were naked in a loose blouse! They jiggled and wobbled shamelessly!
Ann turned away and rang up a candy sale, noticing her own reflection in the wall mirror behind the register. Her dull brown hair was a bit mussed and she had lost a hairpin or two. She wondered if her deodorant was still holding out.
Smiling, she sold a box of chocolate peanut clusters, her quick eyes peering through her fili-greed glasses, searching the lobby for powerful-looking males.
Sherri slumped in the green Chevy's seat next to Max as he parked off a side road, in the trees, and said, "Mother will be keeping vigil,"
It was still early. The time: nearly eleven thirty p.m.
"Doesn't she always?" Max turned and reached for Sherri, his heavily muscled arms drawing her close, his open lips coming down on hers. He made a low "Huhmm!" sound in his throat as she opened her mouth and took his tongue. His rough hand pawed her thin blouse free of her orange micro-skirt, eagerly fumbled under to her warm skin, and up to the loose fullness of her breasts as Sherri squirmed. A hot hand on her like that sent itchy wriggles of lust through her. She suddenly had to rip her mouth free and take a deep breath.
She whispered, teasing, "God, Max, are you still horny?"
"What's a handjob in a balcony? I want something better."
His big hand was full of flesh. He squeezed and rubbed as his fingers sank into the yielding soft-
ness. The thick nipple, like yeasty rubber, surged out between his fingers.
He added hopefully and truthfully, "I'll bet you do, too."
"Umm." Sherri arched her back and pushed her captured breast against his hand. "You know what Mom would say if I took you into my room?"
Max snorted and laughed.
Sherri mimicked her mother's whiny voice. " 'You're only fifteen! Why, you're not even out of high school yet!' "
"Can I come in after we graduate?"
Sherri chuckled lewdly. "You were inside three months ago." She reached to his lap and found his penis hard in his jeans. She squeezed in return. "Last week, too."
Max said, "Hey ... did you catch the look that woman gave me in the lobby when we left? The butterball with the glasses who takes the tickets and sells candy and junk."
"No." Sherri giggled. "Why? Does she turn you on?"
He snorted. "She looked like / turned heron."
"You probably did. You're a big boy, all muscles and . . . this." She squeezed and rubbed.
Max grinned, flattered. Then he said sourly, "She reminded me of my ma."
"You turn on your mother?" Sherri dissolved into more giggles.
Max suddenly gripped her naked breast viciously. He twisted to hurt her.
"Ow!"
"Shut up about my ma!" "You brought it up."
Max relented. "Yeah. Okay, forget it." He pat-
ted her flesh and kissed her swollen nipple. He sighed. "I wish we had some place ..." She asked, "Back seat?"
"Not tonight. I don't like to make it in a car. I'm too tall. Too much scrunching around. It's no fun."
She squeezed his erection again. "I'll take care of you." She pressed against him for another kiss. Their mouths opened and took, their breath surging. They stirred and moaned and their eyelids fluttered as their mouths worked. Their spread lips slid wetly, sensuously, tongues flicking in touch games, in mutual lust. His hand continued to maul her breast. Her hand rubbed the bulge in his jeans.
Their mouths slid apart. Max panted, "You sure get hot quick."
"You've been at me all night."
He took her mouth again. His hand left her breast and caressed her belly through her skirt, then moved to her stockinged legs, fingers edging down between her thighs. She moaned in the kiss and opened her legs. His hand fondled its way under her short skirt to her pantyhose-covered crotch and his palm rubbed on her mound, his fingers pressing lower against her thinly covered cleft.
Sherri's grip on his bulged penis tightened unconsciously as her passion heightened. Her breasts were beginning to ache.
She lashed her tongue in his mouth, merging her saliva with his. She moaned as his fingers found the small rip in the crotch of her pantyhose.
Max's hand slid lower between her open thighs. His fingers entered her, easily. She was wet.
She felt two fingers pushing deep into her vagina, curving up to seek her cervix. But it was too far in. No boy's finger had touched it. Once she had used a banana-a helluva big banana-to see how much she could take. The thick tough-skinned yellow fruit had slid in and in till it had frightened her a little. And then had come that magic, galvanizing touch up her belly! Like electricity and fire and a jolt of pure sex all at once. She had jerked that banana out of herself, scared, afraid of consequences, afraid of that sensation.
But she had only been thirteen.
Even so, she had never repeated the experiment . . . and never been fucked by a boy she couldn't take with ease. Her mind replayed the sight of that horse-cock she had seen briefly in the balcony. Sherri slid her mouth aside, leaning back, breathless, against the car seat. Her head lolled as she breathed fast, open-mouthed. His slippery fingers were rolling her grapesized clitoris.
Max lowered his head and blew one side of her blouse away from a breast. He kissed, hot and wet, on the deep flesh.
Sherri whispered, "Yes . . . suck it."
"I don't want just another handjob."
"All right. I'll be good to you."
He sucked her big nipple into his greedy mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive tissue. She arched her back and moaned again, her hips working in smooth, short coital thrusts as his fingers drove her further and further toward a climax.
A long moment passed. The only sounds were her ragged breaths, his quiet nursing, the faint whisper of his hand between her stockinged thighs.
Then Sherri's breathing speeded even more. She
moaned ... "Hmmmmm .. . mmmmmm . .. mmmm ... mmm! MM!" She twisted and panted and clapped her right hand over her mouth to muffle her cries.
Max stayed hunched sideways and sucked her nipple until she quieted. Then he straightened and withdrew his hand from her crotch, wiping his fingers with a handkerchief. "You get pretty juicy."
Sherri sighed and laughed softly, relaxed, enjoying the afterglow. She patted his erection. "So do you."
Max unbuckled and unsnapped his jeans. He ran his zipper and reached in to free his penis of his underpants as Sherri watched him in the darkness. He was so eager for it, so afraid she'd try to cheat him.
He had it free. It stuck up, a blob of pale flesh in the center of his dark, open jeans, above the dim white of his briefs.
Sherri listened to the night sounds. The farm area was quiet. They were parked under an overhanging walnut tree. If her mother only knew what her sweet daughter did for her boyfriends sometimes! Sherri giggled and shifted to a better position on the seat. She bent over his lap. Her hand found his penis ... hard, throbbing, hot with all that blood. She lowered her head more and her lips enclosed the head of his organ. She felt his thigh muscles tense as she fluttered her tongue and sucked shamelessly.
There was something about this, she decided, that she liked. She chuckled, with her mouth full. There was something about all kinds of sex she liked. She was just an awakened, highly sexed girl. It wouldn't take long, she knew. Max was a
quick trip.
Sherri thought again of the man in the projection booth, earlier. What would it be like with him ... with that long thing?
Could a cock that huge fill me up . . . and touch the magic spot? Touch it and touch it and touch it and drive me out of my skull?
Sherri took Max's cock deeper into her mouth. She reveled her tongue around it. She pushed her right hand into his briefs and cupped his hot, hairy balls.
Max was snorting, getting very close, so she began stroking him with her hand as she increased the suction of her mouth and tongue.
He grunted. "Uhhh!" He cursed.
Her mouth was suddenly overflowing. His semen tasted bitter and soapy as she let it run down to his underwear and jeans.
Bruce yawned and climbed naked into bed with another can of cold Hamms. He popped the tab and reached for the remote control for the small color TV on the stand a few feet beyond the foot of the bed, clicking the set to another channel. He could hear Ann still running water in the bathroom.
He clicked the TV sound down and called out, "How much longer you gonna be?"
The water was turned off. She called back, irritably, through the bathroom door, "What?"
"How long?"
"Just a few minutes. Turn the light off and go to sleep."
Bruce swigged his beer and clicked up the sound. Like hell he would go to sleep. She knew
what he wanted. He glanced down at the long, heavy erection that was flopped across his hip. Working his legs under the covers, he flipped the sheet over his middle since his wife was offended at the sight of his "manhood," as she put it. Hell, sex in all its forms "offended" her.
Bruce resentfully watched an old western on the small color screen. He hated westerns ... he clicked to another channel ... Bette Davis and Herbert Marshall in some ancient melodrama. Bruce clicked the set off and glanced at his watch. One-thirty.
They had had a pretty good night. The feature had really been drawing. A good, funny western. The only one in ten years.
The kids had guzzled soft drinks, chomped popcorn and munched candy at a fine rate. Where did the kids get so damn much money nowadays? They spent it like ...
Bruce thought about the blonde! That look! He cursed himself for a gutless wonder. He should have stayed in the doorway and let her look! A girl like that couldn't object to seeing his cock. The ivay she'd looked! Like she ...
Bruce ground his teeth. Wishful thinking! He was stupid to think she was interested. And it was a stupid, kid's play to stand there with his log hanging out--LOOK AT MINE!-like a freak, an exhibitionist! That was dangerous.
What was that girl doing now? In the back seat of that boy's car, getting screwed? She had been a pretty tall girl ... she could take a big chunk of hot meat down there.... Would she come to the balcony again? She had been so young! They all looked so damned young! But they had developed
bodies. God, did they! He stirred restlessly, his penis throbbing, jerking against his belly. He looked quickly at the bathroom door as it opened.
Ann emerged wearing a pink, multi-layered nightgown. She reached back and flicked the bathroom light switch. She saw the empty beer cans on the bedside table and said, "You'll be up two or three times tonight getting rid of all that fluid."
"I've got some other kind of fluid I want to get rid of."
"Don't be crude." She went around the bed to her side and slipped in. The bed creaked with her weight as she settled down on her back. "Turn off the light." She took off her glasses and placed them on the table on her side of the bed.
"Come on, Ann. I need relief."
"Can't you do it yourself?"
"Can't you be a decent, loving wife once in a while?" Bruce turned to her and touched her breasts through the pink folds of thin rayon. She was wearing a bra ... even to sleep.
Ann pushed his hand away. "I am trying to be a decent wife. Your indecent lust makes me sick." She didn't look at him. She folded her plump arms over her breasts.
"Sex is a part of life. It's a part of marriage."
"Maybe for other people."
"Well, I'm other people! The man you married and then refused to have sex with!"
Ann sat up angrily. "It's impossible for us! I tried! You're a monster with that-" Her eyes burned with unfocused revulsion.
"You never let me work you up enough. You never wanted sex in the first place."
"I do not want to go through this whole argu-
ment again. Not again. We have said these words at least twice a week for nearly fifteen years."
"Because you're a cold, vindictive, man-hating bitch!"
Ann paled. "/ am not! Just because you're not man enough-" She bit her upper lip. She had not intended to say that. She was suddenly afraid and did not know why.
"Man enough?" Bruce stared at her. Ann turned away, onto her side. "Will you please turn the light out?"
Bruce obeyed automatically, without thinking. He repeated, "Man enough?" He frowned in the sudden darkness.
Ann didn't want any more questions. She wanted to get his mind away from her slip. She turned back toward him and sighed loudly, resigned, the sacrificing, put-upon wife. "All right. I'll do it for you. Go get a towel."
Bruce touched her thigh. "Let's try it again the real way."
"No, you're too ... long. You hurt me." "If you let yourself get aroused enough ..." "Bruce, I'm too old to have a child now. We would not be good parents. We haven't any business risking a thing like that. I'll do what I've been doing for you since ... since the beginning."
"All right!" He clicked on his lamp, threw the covers away from him and went into the bathroom for a hand towel. Dipping it in warm water, he returned to the bed.
He was naked and Ann didn't look at him. She had always wanted him to wear pajamas and he had always refused.
Bruce climbed into bed and lay on top of the
covers. His penis was soft now, but still very large in comparison to most men.
"Turn the light off, please." Ann struggled to a cross-legged sitting position. She reached to his loins, keeping her face turned away.
Bruce clicked the light off. She always made him feel dirty ... like a guilty beggar ... like a lust-dominated animal defiling her purity of soul by asking her to ... He clamped his jaw tight. Damn her! She was the one who was wrong!
He felt her small, pudgy hand seek his penis. She found the softness. She said nothing. She fondled and he grew dramatically in her hand. She had, over the years, developed an unconscious skill in doing this for him. Her hand was warm, her fingers gripped and squeezed....
It was very dark in their bedroom, but his eyes adjusted quickly. He watched her hand rise and fall slowly, sliding the white skin over the long, bonelike organ. It felt good, God, yes, but he knew it would be so much better in intercourse. But rarely, since their wedding night, had she let him try it.
Her hand speeded gradually. He felt the first tiny gathering of sensation. It was only a matter of time now ... a minute . ..
Ann liked to get it over with in a hurry.
Bruce closed his eyes. He fantasied himself with . . . the blonde in the balcony. She had seen his long bulge tonight and she would come to the theater alone tomorrow night. She would walk into the projection booth and give him that look again and take off her panties. She would sit on the high stool and lean back against the wall. Her slender thighs would open and she would say
huskily, '"Put it in me ... all of it!" And he would drop his pants and move between her legs. He would make the entry and sink into her hot, wet, velvet depths. He would kiss her and thrust deeper ... and she would gasp, "Yes, more!"
Bruce was panting as Ann's hand flew up and down. He went tight, his flat belly ridged. The sweet boiling pleasure burst in his loins. He
gasped, "Ohh ... God____" and twisted on the bed,
gritting his teeth. Her hand continued to flail.
He gritted, "Okay ... stop!"
Ann said disgustedly, "I hate this part. Give me the towel." She wiped her hand, then threw the damp towel at his belly.
Bruce sighed. He wasn't satisfied. The pleasure was fine, but Ann's attitude, her actions, as if she had been soiled....
He wiped himself and sighed again, dropping the towel to the carpet.
"Put it in the hamper!"
He got up and put it in the hamper.
After dropping Sherri off at her house, Max drove home. He turned into his street and saw there was no place to park again. The twenty-four hour paper box factory two streets over loaded the surrounding streets with workers' cars.
Driving past the old house he saw a light was still on, in the kitchen. She had somebody in there again! There was a Ford Galaxy in the unpaved driveway behind her Rambler. Max cursed and gunned his Chevy down the street, finally finding a parking place three blocks away. He walked back, seething, clumped up the short fractured-
brick walk and up onto the warped wooden porch. He gave the screen door a savage tug. It was stuck as usual, but yielded. He tried the door. Locked.
But they must have heard him. It gave them time. He dug his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door, flicking on the entranceway light. He slammed the door shut and heard a scurrying sound in the hallway. The side door opened and closed quietly, but he had heard it.
His mother called from her bedroom, "Maxie?"
"Yeah." He went to the small dining room window and saw a middle-aged man get into the Ford. The guy was tieless and coatless. Jowly face.
Max felt sick and disgusted.
"Did you have a nice time with your date?"
He felt like asking her the same question, but growled, "Yeah." He went into the kitchen.
A half-empty vodka bottle sat on the drainboard alongside a couple empty glasses, bottle caps, empty 7-Up bottles. He pulled open the refrigerator and took an apple.
She came down the dim hall to the kitchen wearing a sheer pink shortie nightie. Everything showed. Her breasts were massive, but low-slung, heavy, swaying, tired of fighting gravity. Her nipples were flat nubs in smears of pale, red-brown areolas. The white flesh was veined and stretched. Her narrow waist was larded with alcohol fat and her heavy, doughy thighs trembled with her every flatfooted, barefooted step. Her panties were too tight.
Max jerked his eyes away from her. His jaw muscles bunched.
She was running a large pink comb through her shoulder-length dyed blonde hair. Her brown eyes
were vague. She smiled. "Have a good time?" Her lipstick was smeared. "Yes."
The Ford started up and backed out to the street.
She frowned drunkenly. "Those factory people. The next time one of them leaves his car in the driveway I'll have the city come and tow it away." She looked at Max.
Max bit into his apple. "Ma ... why do you drink so much?"
"I don't... drink much." She put down her comb and leaned against the sink. She rinsed out a glass.
He let himself look at her as his throat tightened. She was thirty-eight but she still had a body. Running to fat, stretch marks, sag, but still a hell of an attractive woman-who was six years divorced-who went out to bars and picked up men -who drank too much and showed too much to her big, husky teen-aged son.
She glanced over her shoulder, smiling flirt-ingly. "Want a drink, honey? You're old enough. As long as it's with me." She reached up and touched his right sideburn with a fingertip.
"No!" He felt dizzy. He stepped back.
She shrugged. "I'll have a nightcap." She poured vodka.
Max left the kitchen. He went to his room, next to hers, and sat on his twin bed, eating the apple in huge fast bites.
TWO
Ill at ease, Bruce nodded politely as John Varga spoke in his heavy baritone tinged with a German accent.
Varga was at home with the muted sounds of luncheon in the expensive Carlyle Room, the white damask tablecloth, the fine china, the water goblets, the red-vested waiters, the ornate chairs, the 19th century English decor ... and with the stunningly beautiful young woman, his secretary, who sat to his right.
Linda was an octoroon or something, Bruce thought, distractedly. Her skin was a rich creamy tan, her features showed only a faint hint of Negro blood ... a perfect, finely chiseled nose, but a mouth that was exquisitely lush. When she spoke, when she ate, Bruce's gaze was helplessly drawn
to her voluptuous lips.
She caught him often, looking, and smiled.
Varga spooned small strawberries with cream as he spoke. ". . . percentage deal if you feel so. But we like to make theater purchases outright. Twenty-five thousand . . . that is a good substantial price for your house . . . three hundred seats does it have?"
Bruce nodded. His own dessert was a scoop of very rich pistachio nut ice cream with an abundance of real whipped cream. The tab for this lunch was going to run Varga close to twenty dollars.
Bruce's gaze drifted back to Linda who wore a low-cut pale green silk pantsuit, a single strand of pearls around her slim neck, and matching pearls in small golden cages dangled at the ends of golden, delicate chains from her earlobes.
Her breasts were proud and firm and pointed; gently moving under the clinging fabric.
Bruce's stomach was tight. He wasn't used to being around lovely, expensive, tempting creatures like her ... or used to eating in fine restaurants.
There was big money behind Varga, a syndicate, perhaps.
"... five years contract as manager-there is security. Ten thousand a year is more than you make now as owner, is it not? Yes?"
Bruce grinned. "Maybe." No maybe about it; he and Ann were lucky if they cleared eight thousand a year after taxes. And the last two years of recession had been lean....
Varga asked, "Do you have maybe a feeling against adult films?"
"No, no ... different strokes for different
folks...." Bruce glanced at Linda and was captured by her smile. God! Just to kiss her! For a second he allowed his mind to fantasize her incredibly sensuous mouth slowly enclosing the tip of his long, long cock. She would be kneeling, submissive, naked, her delicate hands on his bare buttocks, urging him to thrust his heavy, fat organ deep, to her throat. . . the pleasure would be-He didn't know! He had never had a woman suck him. He had never had a first-class, fully satisfying fuck, either!
He had been the prize stud of his company in the army during the war. The men had wanted him to put on a show for them with some of the Italian whores. But he had been bashful and scared, newly married to Ann, and faithful to her ... for tvhat? Twenty-five years wasted!
Bruce wanted a woman who loved to be fucked, deep and hard! He wanted a woman who would suck him off, too, and who would like him to go down on her! The world was full of women-and girls-like that... and he was stuck with Ann!
He dragged his eyes from Linda, afraid his yearning was obvious. His throat was tight as he took another bite of the rich dessert. He said, "Let me ... I've got to talk it over with my wife. Let me call you in a few days."
"Of course. Of course. But you are interested, Mr. Wyshak?"
"Yes." Bruce succumbed and let his eyes drift back to Linda.
Sherri stepped out of her gym suit and tossed it into her open locker. She was flushed and winded
from the run around the track a moment before.
Marie Pasquette sprawled on the bench beside her. "That motherfucking old dyke." She was sweaty and angry. "Just for whispering a little while she gives a stupid lecture on health food!"
Sherri laughed and ruffled the girl's black hair. "Running's good for you. Keeps you in condition forf-u-c-k-i-n-g."
Marie snorted. "I get so much of that it keeps me in shape for running!" She started to strip. "Do I ever need a shower!"
Sherri glanced at her watch before taking it off. "Nine minutes till the bell." She next unhooked her bra-she hated to wear a bra, but the school insisted-and skinned down her yellow panties.
Cupping the undersides of her big, low-slung breasts, she lifted them and let them fall. They jiggled nicely. She raised her arms and watched her breasts rise and assume a perfect profile. "I should exercise my pectorals."
Janis Margold passed down the locker aisle, naked, her skinny, flat-chested body showing ribs and sharp pelvic bones. She flipped her green shower cap at Sherri's buttocks. "C'mon, vain jane. The hot water is being used up!"
Sherri grabbed her own shower cap and soap from her locker and followed. The shower room was steamy and hot, even though the cement floor was cold except directly under the showers. High watt bulbs glared behind fine wire screens in the high, echoing ceiling. Naked young girls turned, pranced and yelled under a dozen spraying nozzles.
Sherri splashed through the antiseptic foot pool in the doorway and claimed a shower being aban-
doned by a short redhead with floppy breasts and too-wide hips. She gasped as she stepped into the almost cold spray. "You depraved turd!" she screamed good-naturedly after the girl. She quickly adjusted the shower to hot and began to turn under the water. Filling her mouth with hot water she spat it at the plump, broad-shouldered girl under the next shower.
The girl yelled mockingly, "Still got the taste of Max Leahy in your mouth, Sherri?"
Sherri began to soap. She grinned and yelled back, "Max tastes good compared to what you swallow from that retard you go out with, Josephine Gould!"
Another girl yelled over the echoes and the hiss of the showers, "How do you know?"
Sherri laughed and made a mark on the air with her finger. "One for you, Kelli."
Josephine left her shower and waved as she passed. "History calls."
"Don't answer!"
The empty shower was taken by Betty McApp, a quiet, willowy girl with big, somber, dark eyes. She still wore her hair in a childish pigtail. Her auburn hair was encased in a thin, too-large, transparent plastic shower cap. She smiled at Sherri and blinked a lot.
Betty's narrow-hipped body was childish, too, with pouting little breasts and a hairless vulva at the juncture of long, slender thighs. Sherri recognized Betty as the girl who sold tickets at the Jefferson Theater.
Sherri had Betty in Gym and Spanish. They knew each other's names and nodded once in a while. But most of the girls thought Betty a shy,
withdrawn plonk. Afraid of boys. The boys didn't even try.
Sherri was conscious of Betty's continuing, oddly intense gaze. She asked mischievously, "Still a virgin, Betty?"
Betty nodded. "Want me to wash your back?"
"Sure, if you want to."
Betty crossed into Sherri's hot cone of pelting water. She said, shyly, "I like you. I-I think you're beautiful." She soaped her hands and began caressing Sherri's back.
A yell went up: "Sherri's made a conquest!" "Oh, queerie me!" "Switching, Sherri?"
Sherri grinned. "Don't knock it if you haven't tried it!"
Two girls on the far side began to sing. "LEZ OF MY HEART, I LOVE YOU .. . RIGHT FROM THE START____"
Girls began playfully groping each other's breasts and loins, screaming with mock passion and terror. Wet hands slid fleetingly over young breasts, darted into the hollows of sleek, smooth, glistening loins, touched wet, matted pubic hair, were slapped away. There were faked kisses, exaggerated embraces.
The five-minute warning bell clanged through their horseplay. They began to troop out of the shower room. The last girl out looked back at Sherri and Betty, then was gone.
Betty said in a scared, small voice, "Do they really think we ... ?"
"Nooo! They just kid ... you know!" "But I do think you're beautiful. I want to be friends."
"Sure, okay." Sherri turned off her shower. She smiled at Betty. She asked, curious, "How old are you?"
Betty said, "Almost sixteen."
"You're growing up slow." Sherri nonchalantly patted one of Betty's small, undeveloped breasts. "I had that much when I was ten."
Betty blinked rapidly. Her left hand jerked up toward Sherri's wet breasts, then stopped. She blushed and turned to cut off her shower.
Sherri put her arm around Betty's waist. "Come on, we'd better get dressed! Don't be a worry wart; nobody really thinks you're that way."
Max lounged outside the door of his sixth period English class with two of his buddies. The two-minute bell reverberated up and down the halls.
Ben shifted his books to his right hip. He said in a mock precise voice, "Where is our teacher?"
Max said, watching a girl with big breasts walk by, "Sucking a weed in the teachers' lounge."
Howie scratched his pug nose. "She ought to try pot."
"She'd piss in her pants at the mere mention," Max yawned.
Howie asked him, "You score with Sherri Rudd the other night?"
"Sure. She drank my wine."
"Yeah ... wish Clara dug that."
"Drop her." Bennie nodded at a fat girl in a purple dress. "Take Charlene. I know for a fact-"
Howie said disgustedly, "She'll suck anybody! She drained the whole fuckin' baseball team last week when they won the I. L. Championship."
"Bullshit."
"That's what Marv Hackman said!" "Bullshit."
"Hey, Max, let's go over to the game tonight and pick up something."
Max shook his head. "Gotta study."
"Can'tcha study Saturday and Sunday?"
"I've got doomsday homework, man." He scowled. He didn't like to lie to his friends. He could go out, but-he wanted to be home so his mother wouldn't be free to go out and get loaded and pick up some guy, or let herself get picked up. Slut, site acts like a fuck in' iiymplio!
Max whirled angrily and started into the classroom. "C'mon. Here comes old waddle-ass."
At that moment, Eva Leahy, Max's mother, was lying on the sofa in the living room of their old house, wearing only her pink shortie nightie. She drank deeply from a tall glass that clinked with ice cubes and watched, dull-eyed, a game show on the eighteen-inch, year-old color TV.
She laughed drunkenly when a male contestant missed a question. "Stupid bastard. Men are such stupid bastards." She was alone in the house.
A commercial came on. She watched a girl in a mermaid costume sell hair tonic.
Eva asked, "How do you do it, honey? Where's your hole?" She raised her knees and let them fall open. "Here's mine, lookin' at you." She drained her glass, got off the sofa and walked un-
steadily into the kitchen. The vodka bottle was empty.
She looked vaguely around, then opened a cupboard. She closed it, rubbing her face with both hands. "Shit, I'm horny." She went into her bedroom. "Damn kid came home too early last night. Left me high 'n dry . . . sorreee, high 'n wet!" She giggled drunkenly and went to her knees on the faded old peach throw rug beside her dresser. Pulling open the bottom drawer, she fumbled under sweaters and blouses and brought out a foot-long narrow brown cardboard box. She lifted off the cover and smiled loosely at the big, flesh-colored, artificial penis bedded in tissue.
"Hello, honey. How's the woman's best friend today? Ready to do your duty?"
She took it from the box and went into the bathroom, took a half-used tube of sterile lubricant from the second shelf of the medicine cabinet and squeezed out a worm of it along the massive length of the pliant dildo, smearing the lubricant all over the shaft and head.
She went back into the bedroom and flopped onto her back on the unmade bed, holding the rubbery artificial penis by the blunt end. With her free hand she pulled the wrinkled, bunched pastel blue blanket and flowered top sheet from under her buttocks. Comfortable, she drew her heavy thighs open and pulled her shortie nightie up around her belly.
She closed her eyes and used the first two fingers of her left hand to part the lips of her vulva. Her mound was thickly fluffed with dyed blonde pubic hair, dark at the roots. She set the big molded head of the dildo between the lips. With-
out hesitation, with practiced skill, she pushed the glistening phallus about four inches into her vagina. She licked her lips and swallowed, working the dildo an inch deeper. And another inch deeper.
She whispered, eyes still closed, in a fantasy, "Oh, honey, I love big men . . .fuck me . . .fuck me good. . . ." and began pumping the slippery shaft in and out, smoothly, deeply. She sighed. Her inner thighs tensed and her hips lifted to meet the strokes.
Eva's lips parted as she began to breathe faster. Her eyes moved under her closed eyelids. She licked her lips again. "Oh, you're good .. . you're so good. . . ." Her hand and wrist drove the long, thick dildo gradually faster and faster. Then she slowed the deep plunges and drew it out and rubbed the wet head up and down in her slit, over her swollen clitoris. She trembled and sank.the dildo into herself again, slowly, with a small, rotating, "pot-stirring" motion.
She changed hands. "Now, honey . . . nail me . . . nail me . . . drive me into the fucking floor!" She pressed the shaft almost all the way in. Her belly tensed, bloated up and then was sucked down. "UH!" She deliberately twisted and turned the dildo as she applied more and more inward pressure. "UH!" Her face creased with pain. "Bastard!" She pulled the dildo nearly out, then plunged it deep and hard. Faster . . . faster . .. faster!
Her gripping fist thumped wetly against her juicy, open vulva. She writhed and squirmed. Her hips jumped to receive the penetration and the slapping contact with the butt of her fist.
She whispered brokenly, "Keep it up .. . don't
. . . stop...." Her lips were drawn back from her teeth in a ferocious, agonized grimace. "Fuck me ...FUCK ME!"
Her neck muscles corded. She panted loudly. A rippling spasm seized her belly. Her very large, soft breasts surged and shook. Her nipples hardened dramatically.
She slowed her hand. She let go of the dildo. It projected from her vulva like a flesh-tinted club as she lay for. long moments, breathing ever more normally.
At last Eva opened her eyes. She rose up on her elbows and looked at the dildo. She smiled wryly. "Not bad, honey. If you had an income I'd marry you." Pulling it out, she went into the bathroom to wash it with hot water and soap.
THREE
Bruce swivelled nervously in his desk chair. Ann sat on the edge of the only other chair in the theatre office.
He finished saying, ". . . didn't plan on keeping this place more than another five years or so anyway, did we? This way-"
"No, I don't like it. I don't want to sell."
"Why not? Twenty-five thousand-"
"Because you'd end up in jail, showing those kinds of movies-sex movies!"
"Varga explained that. I asked about that. He said there might be some harassment at first but it would be easy to handle, and the corporation pays for all legal expenses and hires top laywers to handle its cases."
"But you still wind up with a police record."
"Ann, you're borrowing trouble!"
"And you want to buy it!" She stood up, looked at her watch and pushed her ornate glasses further up her small nose. "We have a nice little business. The police are our friends. We're our own bosses. I just can't see why you want to change all that."
"We could think of retiring in five years." "You could retire right into jail!" "Will you do one thing? Will you meet Varga and talk to him?" "No!"
"Once, just once. For five minutes."
"No, Bruce! It's crazy to get involved with dirty movies ... in this town?"
"But the Supreme Court-"
"If you want to sell this place outright, for that much money, I'll think about it. That's one thing. But to get mixed up with that kind of filthy operation ..."
"Yes, of course-sex is filthy to you!"
"Oh, you want to be a high-paid manager so you can watch the dirty movies, too! I should have known that!"
There was a knock on the office door. Ann opened the door. Betty McApp stood blinking. "I'm sorry -but it's time to open and I need the cash box."
Bruce nodded and forced a smile. He took the metal box from his lower right desk drawer and handed it to Ann, who handed it to Betty.
When Betty had gone, Ann said, "You'd better get upstairs." She left the office and went to the refreshment counter.
"But, mother, all the girls wear sexy things when they go out on dates!" Sherri smoothed her see-through blouse down over her large, loose breasts. She wore a low-cut, thin, pale pink slip, which barely covered half her breasts and let show clearly the poking of her nipples. Her micro skirt and was bright pink, and she wore matching shoes with diamond-patterned sheer panty-hose. Her long blonde hair tumbled softly past her shoulders.
Sherri was exasperated. She continued, "But that doesn't mean something is going to happen. Boys don't turn into slavering rapists when a girl wears something like this."
"It's awfully revealing." Mrs. Rudd made a worried face. She glanced at her daughter's long revealed legs, her large breasts, back to her legs . .. "Really, Sherri, you're... so overdeveloped for your age."
"Can't help my genes. That's your fault." Sherri fidgeted. She sighed and flipped her long hair forward so that it lay over her breasts. "Is this better?"
Mrs. Rudd nodded. A small victory. "You go out so much, though, practically every night, and you come in so late .. . And now again tonight-"
Sherri rolled her eyes to the stucco ceiling. "Mom, Harold Mann is a pussycat. Wait till you see him. I mean, he's a runt. He's just a kid! He wouldn't dare try anything."
As if on cue, a car drove up before the house. A minute later Harold entered the foyer. Mrs. Rudd softened immediately; Harold was short, moonfaced, sixteen years old, wore a good suit with a conservative shirt and tie, had neat, short hair . ..
and wore a pair of thick-lensed glasses.
Sherri took his arm and got free of the house as soon as possible. When they were far down the walk, out of her mother's hearing range, Sherri said, "God, am I glad you showed up when you did. She was going into her scene again."
Harold smiled. "How about letting me do something tonight?"
"I'll think about it while we're eating at The Pit. I feel like a big rare steak tonight."
"Okay, sure. Dad gave me fifty dollars today. We can go anywhere." He opened the new Buick wagon's door for Sherri.
She settled into the seat. Yum-a good steak and then a drive to someplace private where Harold would be pathetically grateful for a few kisses and permission to go down on me. Sherri smiled. Harold was such a retard. With his money and this car he could get girls to do anything he wanted-just by asking.
She wondered what he'd do if some girl grabbed his cock and sucked him off. Blow his fuckiu' square mind to smithereens . . . and then he'd want it all the time!
Eva Leahy was restless. She pretended to be interested in the TV movie, but her mind was in a bar with a drink in her hand and a man sitting next to her, leaning toward her.
She stubbed out her cigaret and stood up. "I think I'll go to the store."
Max looked up from his books. "I'll go in a few minutes. My car's blocking yours."
Eva's lips tightened. She switched off the TV
and went into her bedroom. When she emerged a few minutes later, she wore a scoop-neck purple dress. Her massive breasts were half encased in a heavy uplift bra that pushed double mounds of white, powdered flesh up into the decolletage. The effect was spectacular and cheap.
She came into the dining room where he was studying at the big old oak table. She announced, "I'm going to walk over to Zero's and get some ci-garets."
Max looked at her. He took a pack from his shirt. "Here." He tossed them across the table.
She scowled and refused to pick them up. "I don't like that kind. I want my own brand."
Max slammed his book shut and stood up. The chair scraped back on the hardwood floor. "I'll drive over and get them for you."
"Oh, don't bother. I'd rather ... It's a nice night for a walk."
"And for a drink?"
She shrugged. "Maybe, if I feel like it."
"Mom, can't you keep away from that stuff, even for one night?"
"Darling boy, I'm not a drunk!"
They stared at each other. Max said doggedly, "I'll get your cigarets." He came around the end of the table. Eva moved to meet him. She pressed herself against her son, pouting, her fingers toying with his open shirt collar. "Won't you just move your car so I can get mine out?"
Max felt her warmth and smelled her perfume, and looked down into the deep crevice between the rounded hills of her half-exposed breasts. His jaw muscles bunched. He put his hands on her full hips to push her back. "Mom-"
But she sensed his refusal, his desire to get away, his tension and pressed more firmly against him. "Please, Max ..." She slid her arms around his neck, in a half seductive, half habitual reaction to being this close to a big, strong male.
For an instant she felt against her mound the hard bulge of his genitals in his jeans. She felt his big hands grip her hips in a partial caress. From that instant, Eva Leahy became aware of her son as a man, as an exciting, powerful, appealing male. A tiny moment of panic fluttered in her belly.
Max felt that pressure of her thighs and mound against his center. He felt her hands tighten around his neck. For an instant she was a lushly built woman whom he knew he could fuck-NO!
He was suddenly dizzy. He wrenched out of her clinging embrace. Anger was suddenly thick in his throat. "Why do you always have to go out and..."
"Well, I'm alone all day. I have to have some social life. You have your friends. You have girls. Max, you're a big boy now. You're old enough to know ... to know that a woman in the prime of her life needs ... to know men. I can't be a ... a ... nun! I'm not built that way."
"I know, but-There's nice ways of doing it." He was angry and miserable. He was almost tongue-tied in trying to phrase his thoughts in ways that wouldn't be crude. "You don't have to go to bars..."
Eva lifted her chin. "I don't have to take moral lectures from my own son. I can do what I want and go where I want ... and I don't need you to give me permission! I had enough of that from your father!" She was breathing deeply, angrily.
"You don't have to wear a dress like that, do you?"
"If I want to! Who the hell are you to tell me how to dress? Look at yon! You look like a stinking hippie, some kind of long-haired freak, with that hair and those sideburns and that ridiculous mustache!"
"Boy, you sound just like-Really square! Your stupid generation can't stand anything different! Anybody who wants to do anything but look-like you and drink like you-"
"I'm going!" Eva went for her purse and stalked from the house. She went out the side door.
Max peeked out of the kitchen window and watched her walk away. His stomach hurt. He became aware of tears in his eyes.
Three minutes later he slammed out of the house and savagely gunned his car out of the driveway.
Sherri lay on a blanket-covered slab of foam rubber in the back of the Buick wagon. She smiled in the darkness as Harold knelt beside her, hunched over, both hands holding her left breast as he suckled on the hot, erect nipple. Her see-through blouse was three-quarters unbuttoned, her slip pushed down to completely free the breast.
She had let him unbuttom her and been amused at his fumbling haste. With her right hand she gripped one of the blouse buttons. She waited a few moments. Harold was sucking her nipple with greater and greater enthusiasm.
Noiv-he scraped the expanded, sensitive tissue with his teeth. Delicious! It sent a sparkle of shiv-
ering pleasure through her. But she cried out and jerked her body sideways. At the same instant of her cry and move, she pulled at the button. She felt it tear the blouse a tiny bit. "You bit me!"
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, Sherri. I won't do it again. Let me suck it some more? Please?"
In the darkness in the car, Harold's head was like a small pumpkin-round, his thick rimless glasses reflecting the faint moonlight from the side window, his mouth wide, gaping, anxious. He was fully dressed; not even his tie was askew or his shirt unbuttoned at the top. His suit coat was open, however.
She said, "All right ... but I'd better make it a little easier for you."
She sat up and pulled her blouse free of her short skirt and finished unbuttoning it. She said, "Oh-you tore it a few minutes ago. Feel!"
"I'm sorry." Harold was stricken. "Let me buy you a new one!"
She had hoped he'd react this way, so anxious to get his hands and mouth on her again. She said, feigning anger, "It's my favorite blouse."
"I'll buy you a new one." He pulled out his wallet. "Here ... here's ten dollars. Okay? I'll be real careful from now on."
She took the money. "All right ... except I'd better take things off." She put the money in her purse, slipped the blouse off and draped it carefully over one of the front seats.
Sherri was happy; she could easily mend the blouse so the rip wouldn't show, and now she had money for that new sweater she wanted.
She let her string-like slip straps fall off her
shoulders, holding the slip over her breasts with one hand. She let her voice get husky and sexy as she said, "Harold ... do you want me to take everything off?"
She heard him swallow. "Uh-huh . . . sure. I want to ... you know...."
"What?"
"What I did before ... the last time." "What?"
"I want to .. . eat you. I want to lick you off!"
"For a long time?" Her voice betrayed a tremor. Harold was a retard, but wow, could he ever eat pussy!
"Sure, as long as you want." He was eager.
Sherri couldn't understand what he got out of it, but she wasn't going to argue. She whispered, "Okay ..." and let her slip fall. Her breasts hung out nakedly. She liked the feel of cool air on them, and the freedom. She liked the feel of their wobbling movement on her chest as she opened her skirt and pushed it under her rump. She liked the slight queasy danger-risk sensation in her stomach : a sheriff could find them ... Harold might do something unusual ... some freak might show up with a gun....
A moment later Sherri flipped her pantyhose against Harold's face. "Want to smell them?"
He took them in a trembling hand and pressed the pink nylon to his mouth and nose. He inhaled deeply.
Sherri lay back totally naked, shivering slightly, on the blanket-covered foam slab. She pushed inward against her breasts with her arms, making them more prominent and sexy. She had seen this technique used in pin-ups.
She whispered, "Come on, Harold, do your thing."
"Sherri, you're so beautiful. ..." He took off his glasses and put them safely on the dash shelf.
"Why don't you get undressed, too?" She decided she might jack him off if he did a very good job of eating her.
"I guess I should ... my coat and pants anyway." A minute later, in his white briefs and T-shirt, he was knealing beside her again, mouthing her left nipple. He sucked the nipple deeper and deeper into his mouth, curling his lips in under his teeth so he wouldn't scrape. His tongue fluttered over the stiff nub.
Sherri sighed and let her hand fall on his knees. She was curious. Did Harold have much? She began inching her hand up between his bare thighs.
Harold sucked fervently. He leaned over her to suckle on her other breast. His warm hand molded the flesh into a high, pointed cone. His hot mouth took the small, marshmallowlike nipple and the crinkled areola. He was excited. He breathed fast through his nose.
Sherri's left hand reached the pouch of his briefs, exploring. She felt a small, bonelike erection. Only about four or five inches. Like a large finger.
Working her hand inside, through the opening in the pouch, she grasped his penis. It was very stiff! And hot! And jerking with the quick pounding of his heart.
Harold let her engorged, tingling nipple slip from his mouth. He gasped, "/ love you!"
She smiled. "Haven't you ever had a girl do this before?"
He shook his head in the darkness. "Only once. She didn't do it very long, either."
Sherri played with him. She slid the ball of her thumb over the head of his penis and smeared the drop of secretion there. Then she rotated her slippery thumb on the underside of his glans, where all the pleasure nerves were concentrated.
Harold trembled. He dove his head at her waiting breast and sucked hard.
Sherri said, "I'm doing it because I like you. You should have some enjoyment, too. And if you go down on me now and do a good job ... I'll-"
She began to pump him, as a sample of the delights to come. Her fingers curled around his small shaft nicely, with just the right grip. She liked the feel of his hardness and the easy way the skin rode over the head of his penis.
She had only pumped him a few seconds, and was about to stop, when he made an intense sound in his throat and sucked air frantically through his nostrils. He was on his knees, on all fours, one hand holding her right breast and one arm bracing his position.
Sherri knew he was on the verge of shooting. She almost stopped pumping him. Then she thought: What the hell-he's spent a lot of money on me. If I'm good to him he'll spend a hell of a lot more.. . .
In the position he was in, his loins were only a foot and a half from her face, but her hand was inside his briefs, so he would be shooting against enclosing cotton.
Sherri asked, "Ready already? Be a shame to stop, wouldn't it?" She slowed her hand.
Harold loosed her nipple and gasped, "Please
don't stop."
Sherri said gently, "I won't, don't worry." She teased a little, but she never taunted or cheated. She didn't hate boys. She speeded her pumping movement, gradually, listening to his breathing. She put her free hand on the back of his neck and urged his mouth to hers.
Harold couldn't kiss her. He was breathing too fast, moaning, his head bowed down, his chin digging into his chest, his body rigid.
Sherri felt his penis attain a special, vibrant tension, a supreme hardness. She knew it was now. She pistoned her hand as fast as she could, her body rocking in reaction to the swift movement of her arm.
His hand tightened on her right breast. His fingers gripped deeply into her flesh. He drew a sobbing, gasping breath and held it.
Sherri felt his penis jerk and leap in her tight grip. Suddenly the inside of his briefs was wet with semen. Her hand was smeared.
She kept on, however, until he shuddered and gasped weakly, "Umm ... that's ..." He sat back on his heels.
She stopped. She took her hand from his briefs. "Good?"
Harold grinned foolishly. He peered nearsightedly down at her young, naked body. "Oh, Sherri ... that was so wonderful. You're a wonderful girl!"
"Sure I am. I mean: sure, I am!" she said lightly She held her hand away from everything. "Got something I can wipe my fingers with?"
"Oh-" He handed her his handkerchief. When she was through with it he took it back and wiped
down inside his briefs.
Then Harold said, "God, you're beautiful." He reached out and put his hand on her smooth, flat belly. "Other girls ... other girls let me do things, but-they never get all undressed like you do."
Sherri locked her hands under her head and took a deep, arching breath. She smiled. She said softly, "Eat me, Harold. Eat me. Eat my pussy. :,".-.�'
He scrambled to obey. He got on his belly between her legs, he slid his hands along the inside of her thighs to her crotch, then up onto her mound, and slightly beyond to her sunken belly. His palms slid back down to her crotch to frame her vulva. His thumbs parted the lips. He was breathing fast, excited. Sherri could feel his hot breath there. It was tantalizing.
Then he dipped his head closer, closer, and she felt the delicious contact of his tongue ... licking into her opened slit. She shivered. He licked so well... right on the button....
Harold's arousal matched hers. As she moaned and sighed and writhed on the blanket pad, he shivered and licked faster and faster, in a frenzy of wanting to make her come.
Sherri slowly drew up her knees. She couldn't seem to get enough air in her lungs. There was an oxygen-hungry sparkle in her blood. Her loins were glowing with steadily escalating pleasure.
She panted, "Oh, God, this is going to be a good one. . . ."
Harold whimpered between her thighs. He pressed his mouth over her gaping vulva. His tongue lashed inwards-into her dripping vagina, around, over her swollen, grape-sized clitoris, like
an incredible wet velvet snake....
Sherri groaned tremulously, helplessly. Her belly spasmed. Her mouth opened wide, soundlessly, then she almost shrieked. Her hips pumped madly against his clinging mouth.
Harold snorted and fought for air, too. He shivered with psychic pleasure as she rewarded him with her cries of ecstasy.
Sherri lost contact with the world. She existed in a swirling, tingling, fiery orgasm. Then it drained slowly away, leaving her breathless, with delicious "aftershocks" of sensation surging in diminishing cycles.
Harold was still licking her, but slowly now, knowingly. His hands caressed the smooth columns of her slender thighs.
Sherri breathed, "Oh, wow! ..." She reached down and patted his head. "When you die, your tongue ought to be in the Hall of Fame."
Harold glowed. "You want to go off again?"
"Does a bird want to fly? Lay it on me...."
His tongue fluttered wetly into her slit. The sparkles of pleasure burst into renewed existence.
Every few moments she was convulsed by a rippling, golden climax. She writhed and panted in the flood of acute sensation. Harold had to stop after an hour. His jaw and tongue muscles were aching. He rested his head on her slowly relaxing stomach. "I'm sorry.''
"Oh, Harold ..." She ruffled his hair. "Any more and I'd be as limp as a rag. You really spoil your dates, you know."
"I can do it some more in a few minutes," he
slurred.
"That's enough." Sherri motioned him to lie beside her. When he had obeyed, she said, "Would you like me to jack you off again?"
"Sure!" His face lit up.
"Okay, get your underwear down."
A few seconds later Sherri slid her left hand over his belly and down onto the stiff, naked shaft of his small white penis. Her fingers curled around it sensually as she slowly worked the skin up and down.
Harold played with her breasts. He whispered gratefully, "This is wonderful."
Sherri slowly, gradually increased the speed. She rolled on her hip toward him and cupped his taut, drawn-up scrotum in the warm palm of her right hand. He pressed his face against a soft, deep breast, his breathing erratic.
In her swiftly moving hand, his penis was so rigid it was like skin-covered bone. Sherri opened her hand even more. This was his moment! Harold's belly grew drum tight. His back bowed. He quivered. He gritted his teeth. "Uhh!" His penis jumped in her pumping fist. A plume of semen shot up two feet and landed on her thigh. Another splashed on his stomach. Another hit her arm. Then-as she slowed her hand-his penis spasmed and spasmed, weakly, and flowed seminal fluid over her fingers.
She knew exactly when to stop.
"Sherri, I love you! You're so wonderful to me!"
"Harold .. . give me your hanky."
"Will you be my girl? Can we go steady?"
She shook her head, sitting up. "I don't want to
be tied down. You're nice, but ..." She shrugged. She was cold again. The outside chill was really getting into the car. She reached for her clothes.
Bruce tried to keep away from the projection room door. It was open a few inches to allow some circulation of air. The hot projector was whirring its way through the second reel of a bad comedy. As he sat on his padded stool and tried to keep his hands off himself, he was sweating, wishing Ann would masturbate him later, but he knew it was too soon after the last time. She rationed him.
He clamped his jaws tight, licking his sweat-beaded upper lip and looked at the clock-10:16, The reel had ten minutes to run before changeover.
He thought about that blonde.... He shook his head violently. He thought about Linda's mouth ... "God damn-" Something was happening to him. He wasn't satisfied with his life as it was. Discontent was in him like a tiger in a cage.
Bruce automatically checked the screen, the projector, the reels. He stood up restlessly, rubbing his big cock in his tan wash pants. It started to creep down his pantsleg.
He went to the door and peered out at the young couples in the balcony. He massaged his cock. It grew and grew in his pantleg, hard and massive.
Bruce's searching gaze didn't find the blonde. But his eye was attracted by two girls in the row opposite the door. They were kissing passionately. Their hands were far up under each other's shirts.
Bruce squeezed his cock rhythmically as he watched them. They were alone in the top row. He had a good side view of them in the semi-darkness.
They both wore mini-skirts and these had been worked up to almost expose the hips and crotch of the girl closest to Bruce, and to completely expose the center of the other girl, who had no panties on. Her loins were masked in a deep shadow from which emerged her pale belly. Her skirt had been flipped up almost to her waist. Both girls' thighs were spread open to allow the other's moving hand between.
Bruce's erection was painfully large in his pants. He leaned with his back against the rear wall and turned his head to the right to peer out at the girls between the barely ajar door and the jamb. He could take out his cock and ease the discomfort without being seen. Only a slice of his face, shirt and pants would be visible to them if they noticed him looking.
He unzipped and struggled to haul free his heavy, stiff length. He finally had to bend over and bow his legs to do it. He straightened up, his long, fat cock hard in the full grip of his left hand. He watched the girls again as they delved between each other's thighs. He worked the skin of his cock in long, slow flexings of his wrist.
The two girls looked very young-about fourteen or fifteen. So young to be turned off boys. So young to be lesbians. Or were they bi-sexual, only experimenting, digging something new, extremely young swingers?
Bruce watched their mouths come together with wet lust. He watched the dim movements of hands, the flickering of fingers. . ..
His cock was tingling, building a hot tension in his belly, as he pumped it, his hand sliding far out to the head and back to nudge the gap in his pants.
He looked down at it for a second. Nine-and-a-half inches of hot meat. What could happen if he opened the door wide and let those girls see it, and offered it to them? They'd be afraid of it, he thought. Just as Ann was, just as every girl would be.
But there had to be women-girls!-in the world built to take this much! He had read that the women in some parts of Africa and the near-East were capable of it ... and even loved extra-big men. Maybe ... a big Negress.... Bruce's hand
slid to and fro, to and fro, faster, faster____His
mind filled with a fantasy ... Big, heavy globes of brown flesh ... a pair of wide, deep haunches ... a welcoming smile, a knowing chuckle... .
He snapped out of the fantasy when he suddenly realized what was going on between the girls he was watching! One of them was taking a white, torpedo-shaped vibrator from her purse. He had seen underground press ads for them-7Vfe inches long, lVfe inches thick, operated by batteries.
He saw the girl twist the end and apply the narrow, rounded end to the hidden area between the other girl's thighs. He watched the hand. The dil-do-vibrator was obviously being inserted. The hand dipped, moved up toward the crotch----
The girl taking the thing was squirming lower and lower in her seat, her legs sprawling wide. She clung hungrily to the other girl and kissed feverishly.
Bruce wished he could see the penetration. Was it all in?
The hand was obviously fucking the girl with the vibrating dildo, and the girl receiving it was unable to stay still. Her hips began grinding. She
was oblivious of everything except her girlfriend's mouth and the humming thing sliding in and out of her pussy.
Bruce was extremely turned on by the sight of her uncontrollable passion and response. His cock was a hot bar of fleshy iron in his pumping grip. He breathed hoarsely through his mouth..
The girl was jerking, twisting, clutching her lover, and he could hear her moans of pleasure.
Jesus-a kid, a girl barely into her teens, making it that way ... Bruce grunted as his cock and loins released the accumulated, intensifying pleasure-tension in a shattering explosion of sensation. He pumped himself ferociously, semen spurting to the tiled floor.
He finally took his eyes from the shameless, still-active girls. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped off the end of his softening cock and wiped up the floor with a rag used to dust the equipment. He easily bent his big softened cock double and stuffed it back into his pants.
He sighed. That had been a pretty good orgasm, but he wasn't satisfied. It had been too solitary. There had been no love in it.
He checked the clock. He checked the reel. Almost time to make the switchover.
FOUR
Four days later, at nine-thirty in the evening, Sherri walked up to the Jefferson Theater on the arm of Billy Levitt. As Billy bought the tickets, Sherri noticed Betty McApp in the booth. Sherri waved and caught Betty's eyes. She went to the window.
"Hi. Is the picture any good?"
"So-so." Betty smiled in a special, lonely-hungry way. Betty hadn't spoken in school and had avoided Sherri in Gym to spare both of them embarrassment.
Sherri caught the look and the meaning. She smiled neutrally and went into the show with her date, insisting they sit far up in the balcony, on the right side, as close to the projection booth door as
they could. And she sat on Billy's right, to have a full view of the door, as she turned to Billy to be kissed. She didn't tell Billy why she wanted just those seats.
The projection booth door was open a few inches. It was early yet. The best of the two features was beginning. She settled down to watch the movie. Time enough later for the special show. She hoped the man with the huge cock was on duty and would show that monster again.
A funny little shiver went through her.
Max was slumped in the driver's seat of his car, eating a taco and draining a coke. Howie sat next to him, wolfing a hamburger. Ben was sprawled in the back seat, one leg sticking out of the left rear door window. He was sucking on a straw buried in a thick chocolate shake.
Howie swallowed a mouthful noisily, and pointed across the drive-in. "There's the pest ... coming to pester us."
Max grunted and looked. "Who's the grungy teenybopper with him?"
Ben sat up to look at the approaching, barefooted kids. He said, "His sister. He told me she fucks at the drop of a fly."
Howie was interested. "No shit?"
The boy and girl reached the car. The boy was about fourteen, with long, floppy brown hair and buck teeth. He wore an expensive, colorful, puff-sleeved shirt.
The girl had a child's face, prematurely cynical eyes and a prematurely developing body. Her brown hair was long, wavy, and well-combed. She
wore dirty jeans and a tight, clean T-shirt that displayed her high, firm, round little breasts and lack of a bra. She was chewing gum.
The boy said eagerly, "Hi! Hi, Max. What's going?"
Max answered lazily, "We are refueling." He waved his coke at the girl. "This your sister?"
"Yeah ... Jenny. She didn't have anything to do, so I said she could tag along."
Howie laughed. "Denny and Jenny."
Jenny stopped chewing her gum. She said, frowning, "Fuck you, whoever you are!"
Howie grinned. "Offering?"
"Paying?"
Max and Ben laughed and went, "Whoooooo----"
"She topped you, man!"
Howie shrugged. "I don't mind. She's probably worth a quarter."
Jenny said, "I wouldn't let him get near me if he did have a quarter!"
More appreciative clapping and whistles. "This chick is sharp for a girl of her tender years," Ben .said.
Denny said, "Hey, you guys going anywhere?"
Howie said, "We are going to bomb city hall, rape the mayor's wife, and get drunk ... in that order."
"Hey, can I come along?" Dennis appealed to Max, the leader.
Max replied, "Only if you promise not to hog the mayor's wife."
Denny grinned. "She wouldn't like me ... I only got five inches."
Howie asked, "Does your sister like you?"
Jenny flushed beet red. "Fuck you!"
Howie shot back, "You say it, but you don't do it."
Ben opened the back door. "Get in. We got no plans ... just a case of this." He uncovered a case of beer which was hidden under a tarpaulin on the floor.
Denny said eagerly, "We could go to our place. Our old ones took off for a visit with some 'friends' in the next county. They'll be gone all night."
Jenny said disdainfully, "They're swingers. They swap a lot."
Max glanced around. Howie nodded, smiling. Ben said, "Sure, man." Max said to Denny and Jenny, "Hop in and tell me where to aim."
The kids climbed into the back. Denny said, "It's only a few blocks. Down Fifteenth ..."
Twenty minutes later-Max lay on Jenny's bed in her room swigging from a bottle of warm beer and watching her fiddle with her stereo set. She had skinned down her jeans and kicked them away. Her white T-shirt was like a micro dress-it came down over her cute little ass just far enough to cover the crack. Her yellow panties showed through.
Max glanced at the posters, the juvenile nurse books, the dolls in a corner on the floor. "Hey, Jenny, how old are you?"
"Twelve. That's old enough." She punched the "play" button and an acid rock cassette blasted through the speakers. She frowned and adjusted the balance. The volume was so high it was almost impossible to talk. Max dug the sound. He nodded to the beat; he jerked his hips to the beat; and closed his eyes, absorbing the squealing
shriek of the electric guitars and the raucous yell of the singers.
He felt Jenny climb onto the bed. Taking her into his arms he ran his hands up under her shirt, her firm little breasts fitting into his hands perfectly. The nipples were hard little bumps.
Jenny unbuckled him and unzipped him. She reached into his shorts with curious, bold little hands, soft, knowing hands, and brought his penis out into the open. She twisted away from his hands, took off her panties, and straddled his legs, facing him. She pulled his pants and shorts down to his knees as he lifted his hips to help her.
He was pretty big and knew it. He wondered what she'd do-climb on or suck it. He didn't much care. Howie and Ben and Denny were down in the basement drinking beer and playing Ping-Pong. Howie and Ben were waiting for him to get through with Jenny so they could have her, in turn.
Jenny accepted it. It was her role, for a few years. Maybe a lifetime.
Jenny grasped his penis with both hands and started jerking the skin up and down in time with the music. It hardened and lengthened. It was a big double handful for her. Seven-and-a-third inches.
Max swallowed more beer and handed her the bottle. She drank deeply, swallowing five or six times, killing it. She dropped it onto the carpet.
Max rubbed her spongy breasts with his palms . .. slow circles. He watched her moving hands. Twelve years old!
The acid rock swirled through their brains. Jenny had her eyes closed as her hands pumped.
Her mouth opened and she slowly lowered her head, mouth still open, lips wet, tongue half out, and engulfed the crown, her hands still moving to the beat....
Max lay passive as she sucked him. The fire was growing in his loins. The pleasure was curling like smoke in his guts. Now he wanted to fuck her! He pushed her head away, then her hands as she opened puzzled eyes.
He pulled her up and around, onto her back. She knew. She spit on her fingers and applied them to her smooth, bare, plump little vulva, parting the pink lips with careless skill. She drew her knees up to her breasts and hugged them with her arms.
Max was slightly drunk. Two quick warm beers. He knelt, grabbed his big penis and worked the head between those saliva-wet lips. He felt the small hollow, the entrance.
Jenny stared up at him, a little girl naked, being a woman. Afraid but pretending, jerking her head to the acid beat.
Max pushed and felt the tight inner mouth yield, and encompass his thickness. He was into a hot jelly-velvet fist! Jenny sucked a quick breath and he whispered to himself, "Jesus!" He stared down at the joining. His thick shaft plunged into her babyish vulva! Her insides were gripping him, and he felt himself grow even harder and longer. Breathing fast, he gripped her small shoulders. Her T-shirt was bunched at her waist.
Max looked her full in the face. Her brown eyes were wide. Her lower lip was trembling. She wasn't a virgin, but she'd never taken on a guy hung as big as he was. So she had an experience coming. Max grinned and winked.
God, she felt good in there. He closed his eyes and didn't move deeper yet. There was a slow gripping sensation. He pushed deeper. Slow and easy. This was worth making last. He gasped as he sank into further hot, clutching, spasming depths. Jesus!
He thought he heard her sob, but the music was so loud! He couldn't stop thrusting into her belly. He had never felt this heavenly jelly-velvet sensation in a girl before-this kind of fist-tightness!
He flexed his buttocks .and drove the last inch into her, stretching her, severely. He felt her body flinch and quiver, but she kept her knees pressed to her chest, giving him full entry. She was defenseless.
Max let his weight of chest and shoulders press down on her, locking her into her position as he began fucking her-long, deep, selfish plunges. His penis was the center of the universe! His being, his awareness, was turned inward, concentrated on the incredible pleasure brought by sinking into and pulling back from this wildly tight honey-pussy. He was only marginally aware of Jenny's strained gasps. He only knew he wanted it to last and knew it couldn't.
It was too good! He was dipping into heaven! He was all loose, helpless, driving to complete the act now, to fuck her harder, faster, deeper. . .. He was panting, clutching her with too-strong arms, slogging down into her spasming, distended vagina. The pleasure bloomed in him, possessed him, drove him. He sucked great lungfuls of air. Sweat sheened his back and flanks and belly.
His penis was tingling, glowing, alive with near-ecstasy. His hairy pubes smacked Jenny's
open, splayed vulva as his great wet plunges savagely buried his rigid meat in her.
Her mouth was a wide 0. Her eyes had glazed and her face quivered with each plunge and impact.
Max groaned and then cried out unknowingly as the orgasm ripped open and spilled through him. He poured semen into her, shaking the narrow bed with his thrusts. His face twisted. He was exalted. He bucked and trembled.
Then the world seeped back to him, his back and legs quivering with fatigue. He pulled out of her and stared for a moment at the dregs of semen that smeared her vulva.
Jenny remained in her doubled-up position for a long moment. Then her locked hands slipped apart under her knees and her legs fell forward loosely, one bent, the other straight. She didn't speak.
"You okay?" he shouted over the rock music. "I liked it." "Sodid I!"
"Fuck me again after I take care of your pals?"
He looked at her little-girl face ... she was clean of guile and defensive sophistication. A twelve-year-old's love shone for him.
Max was pleased and uncomfortable. He didn't want some daffy teenybopper chasing him. Shit, he'd be in college next year! She was still in junior high! He said, "A big one turns you on, huh?"
Hurt stained her eyes. She closed up and shrugged. She got off the bed and went out, down the hall to the bathroom as Max pulled up his shorts and pants and went down to the basement. He heard the pock click pock sounds of Ping-Pong.
Denny and Benny were playing in a party room. Howie was slumped in a wicker chair looking through a Playboy.
Ben saw Max come down the steps. "Hey. She a good screw?" He ignored the fact that Denny was her brother.
"Yeah. Great, in fact." Max grinned at Denny. "Isn't she?"
The boy colored. His eyes flicked around, avoiding.
Howie laughed. "Me next. I won the flip." He rose and nonchalantly went up the stairs.
Ben said, "We've got the rest of the beer in the fridge over there."
Max felt bored and washed out. He didn't want to look at Denny or Ben or Howie or Jenny ... especially Jenny ... for a while. He wanted out- away. He said, "I've got some thinking to do. I'll be back in a couple hours." He grabbed a semi-cold beer and went back up the stairs. The stereo was still blasting as he went out into the cool night and drove away.
Ann was alone in the lobby. The last picture of the evening was half over. Betty McApp had turned in the box-office cash half an hour ago and had gone home.
Ann was behind the candy counter making a list of supplies needed for the following week, when a tall, husky boy pushed in through the outer doors. She recognized him-long hair, mustache, those powerful muscles. He had been with that long-legged, big-breasted blonde slut last week. She nervously pushed her ornate, butterfly-wing
glasses up her nose as he walked toward her-his movements part swagger, part pantherlike grace; The bulge of his genitals was sharply defined in his tight pants.
Her plump thighs tightened against themselves. She said, "We're closed."
"The doors are open." He was sullen. He kept coming.
"The last picture is almost over!"
He stopped and stared over the counter at her.
Ann gripped the stainless steel edge of the ice cream freezer. She felt breathless. He was so big and powerful-looking!
"Okay, I'll watch what's left of it."
"You'll have to pay!" There was a nasty, shrewish tone in her voice. Ann wondered why the words had come out that way. She hadn't intended-
"How much you want, a quarter?" He was sarcastic.
"Each ticket costs a dollar. No matter when you come in."
"Fuck you!" He turned toward the inner doors.
"You pay or I'll call the police!" She was panting lightly, her heart thudding. She knew she was provoking him. But-let them get away with it once... .
He stopped and glared at her. "You fat little shit-eating cunt!"
Ann was appalled at the words and the intensity of his sudden rage . . . and suddenly deeply excited. She became aware of a strange phenomenon in her vision. Her eyesight narrowed down to a grey-walled tunnel. She saw him, as through a long tube, take out his wallet and pull out a bill. It was a twenty.
"I-I can't change this."
"It's all I've got. Change it or go get change."
She was trapped. "Just-just a minute." She sidled out from behind the counter and went to the door of the manager's office, unlocked it and went inside. She opened the cash box and was counting ones when he entered the office.
Fear congealed in her stomach. "Get out! You're not supposed-"
"Fuck you, lady! Fuck all you old-money-sucking bitches! I changed my mind. Gimme my twenty back. No-keep a buck. I'll get my money's worth this way!" He took two quick strides deeper into the office and grabbed Ann.
She was wide-eyed, paralyzed. He loomed in her cave-vision. She felt big rough hands on her body -hands clamping tight, squeezing, on her small, flaccid, bra-armored breasts ... a hand brutally pawing between her legs, meeting the armor of her girdle.
Ann made tiny, inaudible screams.
"Jesus, a torpedo couldn't get into you! What the fuck you think you're guarding? That feel wasn't worth a nickel!"
He let her go. She shrank into a corner, gulping air. He found his twenty on the desk beside the open cash box, took it back and stuffed it into his pocket. He brought out a handful of change and tossed a penny at her. "I'll bet that's what you're worth in bed." He turned and walked out. He didn't"see her flush and sit weakly in the nearby chair.
Ann was dizzy. She was still panting. An itchy heat was in her lower belly. She could still feel the grip of his fingers on her breasts.
Max slammed into his car and sat glowering. Why had he gotten so goddamned mad at that mean bitch? Something about her ... the mouth and nose-the shape of her face . . . She reminded him of his mother! He gritted his teeth. Women! Fuckin' women! He thought about Jenny for a minute. Yeah! Go back and fuck that twelve-year-old cunt again. Jesus, what a sex trip! He started the car.
Sherri was fizzing with excitement and pleasure. She was sitting straight in her seat, her back arched, her large, swoopy breasts exposed to the warm balcony air. Her blouse was hanging open, and Billy Levitt's mouth was clinging voraciously to one of her big, stiff nipples.
Sherri wasn't looking down at Billy or herself. She wasn't watching the screen. Her eyes were fixed on the slightly open doorway of the projection booth. The man with the huge cock was there, showing it to her, deliberately, letting it all hang out.
She shivered as Billy's teeth scraped her nipple, and as the man turned sideways and let her see how far out his meat extended.
My God, she thought, it isn't human! And she feasted her gaze on it as he pulled and hauled on the monster. She glanced up at his thin-lipped face and saw that he had gotten a haircut-his bushy hair looked trim now. He was handsome for an older man.
Sherri worked her fingers through Billy's long black hair. She whispered loudly to him-loudly so the man could hear, too-"Fingerfuck me . . .
make, me come." She let her eyes meet with the burning, intense eyes of the projectionist. She smiled and promised something with her eyes. A weird flutter started in her belly. She knew she wanted to get her hands on that horsecock. She wanted to feel it, weigh it in her grip, handle it, suck it and . . . maybe .. . God, maybe . . . try to take it. . . take some of it-
Sherri opened her legs wide to let Billy's hand reach the hole in the crotch of her pantyhose.
The man disappeared from the doorway. A moment later she saw the telltale signal in the upper right corner of the picture on the screen that meant a switchover to another reel was due in a few seconds. The signal flared again and-slick -expertly, the alternate projector started the last reel of the picture. The audience never knew (except for a few) what had happened. Switchovers almost always are made during scene changes and dissolves.
Then the man was back at the doorway, his massive cock swaying out from his body like a rubber truncheon. Sherri breathed through her mouth. Billy was still sucking on her nipple, sending shivers through her. And now two of his fingers were poking into her vagina, sliding in, oiled by her juices.
Sherri knew what the man's cock looked like, sticking out of his pants like that-it was as big as the dildo one of the boys at school had shown her; he'd had it in his locker and waggled it at several passing girls. She had laughed and giggled with the others. It had been made of latex, flesh-colored, and crudely molded to the shape of a huge, thick penis.
Now she was seeing a real cock at least as big! What kind of a sex-life did that man have? Sherri watched as he pumped his hand up and down the long, thick shaft.
Billy's fingers were moving in her, and his thumb was rolling her swollen, protruding clitoris. She licked her lips sensuously and locked her eyes with those of the watching, masturbating man. She saw his need, his hunger. His hand fondled the length of his cock, then began quick, long strokes.
She wanted to see him come! She stared. She nodded to him and smiled. Yeah ... go, go, make that thing explode!
Billy had her breathing fast. His fingers were like eels in her. His thumb was driving her up the wall! She whispered loudly, "Put another- finger in me!" Sherri moaned and undulated her hips as Billy complied, holding onto the seat armrests and working against his plunging, bunched three fingers. She moaned steadily.
She and Billy were not alone in the upper right section of the balcony. Couples were scattered below and next to the wall, for privacy, and they were locked together, side by side ... They knew there was little time left so everyone in flesh heaven was letting go, doing it now! Clothes were unzipped, opened ... young breasts came into view, panties were squirmed down and sometimes off, pants were groped into, hard penises poked up, were dragged free of underpants ... and small, soft, willing hands caressed and manipulated and pumped ... and a few hot young mouths came down to suck....
Sherri turned her head again to see the man. He
was leading with his back against the wall, hunched over a bit, staring at her as he stroked his gargantuan cock faster and faster! She was tremendously excited. A shaky, quivering hot pleasure ruptured its distended containment in her and flooded her body. She gasped, "Oh-I'm coming. ..."
Through dazzled eyes she saw the man in the doorway stiffen subtly. His cock was immense! He was panting. Their eyes met. His stroking of his cock was violent. She saw the pleasure fill his eyes as hers were filled. She dragged her gaze to his cock, a shiver icing down her spine as she saw gobs of semen erupt from the end of that monster.
Her own orgasm, which had been fading into diminishing sparkles, surged into full, brief power again. She could almost feel that giant pole ravaging her belly, sinking in like-
Sherri jerked and trembled with the intensity of the renewed pleasure as she watched the man step away from the doorway, finished. She enjoyed the dimming sparkling in her loins. She kissed Billy and efficiently set about jacking him off. It was the least she could do ... and all he expected.
Bruce walked into the bedroom, naked, his penis swinging lax and heavy between his thighs, holding an unopened 16-ounce can of cold beer in his left hand. He popped the tab and dropped it into the pretty pink wastebasket next to where Ann sat working cold cream into her face.
He was aware of her disapproval. He didn't give a shit. Not anymore. He took two . . . three . . . deep, mouth-filling, throat-burning swallows and
sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor.
He kept seeing that slim teen-aged blonde with the breasts and the eyes and the smile-the smile for him-that he had had a kind of a masturbatory affair with earlier that night.
He smiled. A kind of jack-off affair once-removed.
The yearning was eating in his gut again, stronger than ever. Shit! That girl was waiting for him to . .. What? Crook his finger, invite her into the booth. Yeah! Those sultry looks she had given him! She was willing!
He drank more beer and imagined things that might happen. He became aware that he had a growing erection, his penis filling, beginning to lift with the hot power of blood, beginning to get that need sensation.
That orgasm earlier had been a lightning bolt! Jacking off with that girl seeing him, smiling, nodding....
Now-he was horny again! He drank again, deeply. The large can of beer was almost empty and he could feel the alcohol beginning to hit. Bruce almost wept for the thousands of orgasms he'd missed in his life, the years of sweet pleasure in the arms of a loving, sensual woman ... or women!
He looked up at Ann. She was putting her hair up in those porcupinelike plastic and metal curlers again. He said, "I want you to jack me off tonight."
"I will do no such thing!"
"I need it, Ann!"
"You only think you do."
A sudden, overpowering rage burst to life in
him. He trembled with it, striving to control himself, crushing the can in his clenching fist. Beer dribbled out of the ruptured seam.
He grated, "You want to get killed? You're going to get killed one of these days! Jesus Christ, Ann! JESUS CHRIST!" He threw the can at the wall. It spewed beer and foam, clattered, stained the wall, and fell dead on the carpet.
Ann had jumped. She stared at him in her dresser mirror, wide-eyed. "What's the matter with you?"
"Nothing! I'm just alive, that's all. A mere functioning human male!" He stood up and walked to his dresser and began to dress. His movements were jerky and strained.
Ann watched him in the mirror but said nothing. She put on her glasses. Her eyes darted this way and that. She frowned every few seconds, frequently pushing her glasses up her nose.
When Bruce had his pants on and was tying his shoes, she said in a small, resigned voice, "All right, I will."
He snorted and grabbed his coat. "Not good enough!" He slammed out of the house and drove and seethed and drove. Finally he stopped at a bar named Zero's.
It was almost closing time. The only other customer was a heavy-breasted blonde woman about his age.
Bruce wanted something stronger than beer. He ordered a whiskey with water back.
The bartender served him and said, "Last order in five minutes."
Bruce nodded. He stared morosely at the amber liquid. The anger in him had settled down to a
slow burning rage in his guts.
I'm not taking any more of her no-sex shit! I'll get a divorce .. . I'll find a woman-
"Hi. Got problems, too?" The big blonde had moved to the stool next to his. She had brought her almost empty beer glass. Her voice was slurred.
His eyes were attracted by the deep vee cut of her tight green dress. Her breasts seemed to loll in their supporting bra cups like skins full of some thick liquid. His gaze shifted to her face. Her brown eyes Were dull, but with a hint of desperation around her mouth. There was something about her that he liked. A corner of his mind began speculating.
Bruce smiled wryly. "All God's chillun got problems."
"Ain't that the truth. I got me a no-good ungrateful son and a runaway husband." She made a face. "What you got?"
"I guess a frigid wife."
"Aww .!." She looked at Bruce appreciatively. "A han'some guy like you?" She nudged him with her knee, finishing her beer.
Bruce asked, "Like a drink before they close?"
"Yes, thank you, sir," she said kittenishly.
When she had a double screwdriver before her, when she had silently downed a mouthful and licked her lips, she said, "My problem sure as hell isn't being frigid. Maybe it's just the opposite." She smiled lopsidedly.
"I can't imagine liking sex is a problem." Bruce pressed the side of her leg with his own. He was amazed; was a pickup as simple as this? He sipped his whiskey. He preferred beer.
"I jus' like men. Bein' sociable . . . and if nature
takes its course..." Her right hand left the bar and slipped onto his thigh. Her hand was warm and pudgy. Her hand squeezed gently.
Bruce began to get an erection. He liked her aggressiveness. Was she a nympho or something? Could she take him? He decided to give her a real test. No one could see. The bartender had his back to them as he drained the stainless steel wash and rinse sinks. Covering her hand on his thigh with his own, he guided her hand down to the inside of his left thigh where his penis was lying in his pantleg like a hot log.
Her eyes widened as she whispered. "Oh, honey, I love big men." She explored the trapped length. "Ohh . . . ready to do your duty?"
Bruce gulped and said, "Anytime."
She drank half of her double screwdriver, her right hand in his lap, squeezing him and asked softly, "Do you have a place we could go?"
He shook his head. "Motel, I guess."
She finished her drink and took her purse from the bar. "Okay, honey." She gave his huge penis a special squeeze, then put her right hand on his chest. "Could we maybe have a bottle of vodka to take along?" She had raised her voice from intimacy to ... what?-business?
"Sure, I guess so," Bruce took out his wallet, wondering if she was a prostitute ... knowing now she was a drunk.
The bartender had heard. He put a fifth of vodka in a bag and took Bruce's money. "Thanks." He waved a casual finger at the woman. "See ya, Eva."
They went out into the night to his car in the parking lot beside the bar. Bruce was astonished at
how quick ... how easy____As soon as they got in
and closed the car doors, Eva was melting against him in the darkness, her face lifted, mouth open for a kiss. Her mouth was soft and hot and tasted of cig-arets and liquor. She kissed without reservation; with tongue and yielding lips, with soft moans and quickened breathing.
He pushed a hand deep into her low-cut dress ... into a bra cup. He scooped up the heavy, warm, sweaty breast and found a large, rubbery nipple with his thumb.
Eva pulled her dress aside and exposed the mass of white flesh. "Kiss it."
Bruce was getting the feeling he could do anything he wanted with her. "If you'll kiss my ..."
Her hands went to his pants, seeking and finding the fat bulge. "Oh, honey, I'll do more than kiss this thing...."
His penis surged with blood at her words. God, if only Ann could say things like this!
Eva fumbled drunkenly at his belt. "Get it out for me____"
He opened his pants quickly, dragging the bulky, stiff length of his penis up and sideways- to cool air and openness. It was barely visible, a pale column of flesh rising from his gaping pants.
"Let me have it." Eva pushed his hands away and took possession. Sh leaned over and kissed the head, her hands closing around the thick shaft. "Real big one .. . real big."
Bruce realized-with self-disgust-that he had not washed it since masturbating at the theater. He could smell the dried semen. He said, "Let's find a motel." He tried to pull it away from her. She resisted, sliding her mouth down over the head.
The glans was enclosed by wet heat, sliding flesh. Bruce's belly tightened. This was the first time! She didn't care... A sighing groan was wrung from him as Eva used her tongue. Her mouth was stretched wide to take him. Somehow she managed to avoid scraping with her teeth.
God, he wanted more of this! But not in the restrictive front seat of a car, in the dark. Bruce pulled her head up. Her mouth left his penis with a wet, sucking sound. He said, "Let's go now. I want that on a bed."
"Okay, honey. That's just a sample." She wiped her lips with the back of her hand and sat back, adjusting her dress top.
Bruce drove out of the parking lot. "Know a good motel to go to?"
She broke the seal and unscrewed the cap on the bottle of vodka. "Knights of the Road is nice ... about half a mile down Twentieth at Kennedy Boulevard." She took a swig of raw vodka and shuddered. She screwed on the cap. "Hoooo! .. ."
Ten minutes later he was showering with her in a twelve-dollar a night room. Eva boldly played with his penis. It was erect, massive, in her soapy exciting hands. He ran his wet hands over her not-quite plump body which reminded him a lot of Ann's body-except for the very large, sagging breasts. He slid his palm down onto her mound and hooked his middle finger into her as she sought his mouth. They kissed sensually while warm water pelted them.
Bruce worked his finger in short jabs. Her tongue slithered into his mouth. Her slippery palm rotated on the tip of his rigid penis. He
couldn't stand the preliminaries any longer. He wanted to bury himself in her ... God, yes, at last to fuck a woman without having to hold back, without restraint!
He turned the water off. They hurried to the bed without drying and sprawled, side by side, their mouths glued together, tongues working ... hands busy.
He moved over her, between her legs. Eva opened for him. She asked breathlessly, "Honey, can you come more'n once?"
"I don't know. I hope so."
"I wanta suck you off, too."
Bruce couldn't believe his good luck. All these years-wasted! Chained to that frigid, man-hating, sadistic BITCH! He knelt and peered down and fisted his huge penis as he notched the head into her glistening, open vulva.
Eva said, "Not too far in at first. .. ." She reached down with both hands and held open the lips.
Bruce nodded and pushed. She took his thickness easily. He sank into her. Warmth surrounded the end of his penis.
She swallowed and said, "Easy . . . little bit at a time...."
He nodded again and worked in and out slowly, sinking in an inch further every few strokes. Half of it in .. . God, let her be deep enough.. . .
He slid in and out, in and out ... more in ... more ... a wild tension gripped his guts and thighs.
Eva whispered to herself in a lust-thickened voice, "/ love it. .. Never had a prod in me this big . .. not a real one. ..."
Bruce couldn't believe the amount of meat he was easing in and out of her belly. Almost all of it .. . another inch. ... He was peering under, watching, and the urge, the lust to bury it took command. He crushed his loins up against hers.
Eva went "Uhhh!" Her thighs jerked, her belly bloated. She grimaced as she gasped, "Max should see his mother now...." She gave a panting laugh.
Bruce ignored her words. He wasn't paying attention. He slid out and then thrust all the way in again. She didn't react as violently as at the first total penetration. He rode in and out smoothly, oh, so wonderfully deep! Deep! How sweet to feel all of himself inside, completely buried. He threw his head back, eyes closed, and thrust in and in and in, again and again and again, immersing himself in the sensation. At last-at last!
Eva whispered, "You're so good ... you're so good...." Her eyes were tightly closed, her hands on his buttocks, pulling him in, relaxing, pulling....
Bruce felt a golden glow of pleasure in his loins, growing stronger with each sweet plunge into her wonderfully deep vagina. He could not help thrusting in faster and harder, in an instinctive lust for greater, more intense pleasure.
Eva began to tremble under him. "You wonderful bastard!"
Faster-harder! The glow was like a sun in his guts, burning through some exquisitely molten liquid, sending a hot tide of pleasure surging, surging, surging....
Eva panted brokenly, "Keep it up-keep it up . . . don't stop. ..."
Nothing could have made him stop! He was
lunging into her now, smacking against her, driving his giant erection up into her quivering guts, causing her big, loose, deep breasts to quake and joggle.
Her arms went around his neck and tightened like a vise. "Ohh . . . OHH . . . yes, nail me! NAIL ME! FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK MEEEE!"
Bruce sucked in great lungfuls of air. His hips and back and thighs worked like an engine, his massive penis a red-hot piston.
He was coming! "Oh, Jesus-OH, JESUS-" He couldn't fuck fast enough! Not deep enough! The molten glory exploded in him. Gut-shaking grunts were torn from him. He sobbed when the incredible pleasure diminished. He pursued it in her, striving for more depth, more speed, but that only made the sensation sharper, knifelike, keen.
And finally even that faded and his penis was a spineless, shrinking mass of flesh in her belly.
He dragged himself out of her and stumbled off the bed, dripping with sweat. He went into the bathroom for another shower.
When Bruce emerged a few minutes later, he expected her to be waiting to shower. He had expected her to follow. But she was still lying on the bed, on her side now, with the bottle of vodka, swigging, talking softly to herself.
"Hey ... you want to clean up?" He saw his semen oozing out of her, down across her thigh.
She had managed to drink at least six ounces of the liquor. She muttered, "Bastard!"
It was past three in the morning. Bruce looked down at her with growing disgust. She was a drunk, all right. An easy lay. God only knew how many men ... Bruce had-for a moment-in the
shower-had half-formed plans for seeing her again, often! But now- She made him wish he'd never met her. His self-respect was stained. But at least he knew now ... he had had a woman who could take him. He wouldn't be satisfied with only hand-jobs after this. His life was opening up.
He wondered what to do with her. He didn't want to see her again. He finally left a five-dollar bill for cab fare back to her car at the bar.
He was sleepy now. He drove home carefully, fighting the druglike lethargy of sexual satisfaction and natural exhaustion. When he clumped into the bedroom, Ann was asleep, a feigning sleep. He didn't care. He pulled off his clothes and fell into bed. He was asleep within a minute.
FIVE
Sherri was sitting on the grass at the edge of the school track, catching her breath after a race, when she saw Betty McApp coming toward her from the broadjump area. Betty's pigtail was curled into a tight knot on the left side of her head. She walked with a swaying stride, her slim, no-hips body remarkably graceful.
Betty squatted beside Sherri. She smiled uncertainly. "Hi."
Sherri smiled. "I was watching you. You did about fifteen feet, didn't you?"
"I suppose so. I don't care about it, though." Betty's big, somber eyes drifted to Sherri's low-slung, prominent bust.
They both wore the standard school-required
gym outfit: white blouse and dark, mid-thigh shorts.
"I-I wanted to ask you . .." Betty looked down at the grass. She pulled some tufts. "I thought maybe if you want to, we could study for that big Spanish test... at my house . . . you know, for next week."
Sherri was curious. And she was inclined to be kind to dumb animals. And-studying for that Spanish test with Betty would be a good idea- Betty was a natural whiz at the language.
Sherri nodded. "Sure. Sounds okay."
Betty's face brightened with happiness. "When do you want to? This afternoon?"
"Okay, why not?"
Max seethed as he drove home early from school with a note from the assistant principal in his pocket, remembering his conference: "Leahy, yon can't call a History teacher a stupid son of a bitch during a class. And only rarely in private."
"He is stupid a)id he is a sou of a bitch!"
"So am I, then. You're suspended."
Max gunned his car up his street and wheeled sharply up into the driveway beside the house.
He didn't give a shit about getting suspended. It was just that Eva would make such a stink.
He got out of his car and clumped up the steps to the kitchen door. The door was locked. The front door should be locked . . . but the side door? What the hell was she afraid of? He heard the TV on inside. A kind of nausea came to him. She had a man in there with her! He dug out his key and put it in the lock. He hesitated. He knew he ought to go
away for an hour. But he wanted to catch her- yeah, in the fuckin' act! She couldn't say one little thing about the note and having to go see the principal about him.
The sick feeling stayed with him, though, as he carefully unlocked the kitchen door and went inside. Max was hoping there wasn't a man. Not during the daytime, too!
He stepped silently as he crossed the linoleum to the door to the dining room. It was gloomy and hot in the house. The oil burner was purring in the basement. He didn't hear any voices.... A TV soap commercial blared in the silence. But now-there were sounds: a moaning ... a soft rhythmic rustling of some kind.
Max tasted bile. His stomach suddenly went acidy. He wanted to shit. He kept on and turned into the living room.
His mother was lying stark naked on the sofa, legs sprawled open and she was fucking herself fast and hard and deep with a big rubber cock! There was a half-empty bottle of vodka on the floor.
Max stared, his eyes narrowed, his mouth turned down in a grotesque, sickened mask of revulsion and disbelief.
Eva was oblivious to him. She was glassy-eyed, concentrated, working herself into an obsessive lust.
He whispered, "Mother..."
She heard it. Her hands stopped thrusting the dildo into her flexing belly. She frowned drunk-enly. She turned her head and saw him. There was a dead, empty silence.
"Oh . . . Maxie ..." She took her hands from the
dildo. She crossed her legs to hide it. She crossed her arms over her large, jelly-soft breasts. "Oh, lio]iey, I'm soriy. ..."
Max began to shake. He couldn't stop it. A part of his mind stood aside and was amazed. A flood of tears welled up in him. He couldn't hold them fc)Hck
Max screamed, "YOU BITCH! YOU BITCH! YOU BITCH! YOU BITCH!" He lunged forward and grabbed the bottle from the floor beside the sofa.
He was sobbing now. His throat was choking with grief. For an instant he almost smashed the bottle down into her face. "You're not a mother . . . you dirty fucking bitch . . . you're not my mother! Not anymore. You're not my mother anymore!" He ran from the house, still clutching the bottle, slammed into his car and savagely, uncaring, squealed on smoking tires back into the street. He crashed into low and howled down the street, almost blinded by tears, veered, swerved, made a corner, and headed away .. . anywhere ... away.. ..
He should have been arrested for reckless driving. He ended up in the hills twenty miles away where he pulled off the dirt road and rested his head on the steering wheel.
He opened the door and got out, then noticed the bottle of vodka on the seat. He took it with him, slipping and sliding down a steep wooded slope to a deep gulley. He sat on a rock beside a trickling little brook, gulping vodka, cursing and weeping, until he vomited. Then he drank again until the bottle was empty, swung the bottle and broke it. He stared at the jagged end of the bottle's neck in his hand and threw it away.
He slipped off the rock and fell face downward on the wet ground and wept for hours.
Bruce said into the phone, "Yes, she won't go for it at all. She's afraid of legal action by the police and things like that."
Varga's voice came soothing but tinny. "There is really no problem, Mr. Wyshak. We have the most able lawyers in the country on retainer. These men are specialists in what's called 'obscenity law.' We make not one move without their decision."
"Well .. . listen, would it be possible for me to see some of the films that'll be shown out here?"
"Of course! Excellent thought, yes. Can you hold for a moment, please?"
Bruce waited. He was in a booth next to a service station. He watched fifteen cars go by before Varga spoke again.
"Mr. Wyshak? I must fly East at noon. But if it is possible you can come in today about three, at my office, Linda will be most delighted to run some of our short features for you in the projection room. Would that be to your convenience?"
Linda! "Yes, that would be-fine."
"Excellent. Excellent. Linda's also my girl fri-day in charge of keeping our present associates and future associates happy, so .. . Bruce . .. don't be afraid to ask whatever you want of her."
Bruce's mouth went dry. Varga's tone had become confidential and his last words had seemed to carry a world of meaning. Bruce managed, "Thanks ... I may just do that."
"She is yours for the afternoon. I think you'll find her highly skilled and willing to please."
"I-I guess you want the Jefferson pretty badly."
"We primarily like the location and we have made you a good offer. Today . . . well, discreet on-the-side benefits there are, too. It's good business. And entertaining business prospects is deductible."
"In that case .. . I'll be in to see her."
"Excellent, excellent. I will contact you when I return." Varga clicked off.
Bruce stepped out of the phone booth with a breathless anticipation creating an oxygen hunger in his body. His penis was filling-creeping this time up toward his right hip bone-hot and willing-against his belly. He buttoned his jacket to hide the bulge. He looked at his watch. In four hours ... He hurried home to shower and shave.
And five hours later-
Bruce sat on the plush three-cushion sofa in the tiny, darkened, mahogany paneled projection room and gathered his nerve for an approach, a pass, a line at Linda, who sat beside him. She smelled utterly seductive and seemed to be waiting for him to do or say something. They had watched films for an hour.
An unattended, powerful 16-mm projector was whirring behind them, throwing a vivid, near-pornographic color picture on the screen. Sound blared from the speaker.
A pretty girl is being raped by a motorcycle gang. She struggles-her clothes are being torn off, her large breasts jiggle firmly, her' skirt is ripped open-pink panties-noir she is naked, slim, white, and brutal hands are mauling her
flesh. . . . Linda spoke over the sound track. "This is 'Wheels of Lust.' We've played it in New York and it grossed very well."
Bruce nodded, turning toward her. God, she was beautiful! She had taken his breath away when he had stepped off the elevator and entered the Inter-America Film Corporation offices.
She wore an electric red silk micro dress with a mandarin collar, sheer stockings and matching red slippers. Tiny ruby-centered silver flowers dangled by long stems from her earlobes.
What had really tightened his throat when she had stood, smiling, and come around her desk to greet him were her firm, pointed breasts moving freely, nakedly, under the silk, and her long, creamy-tan legs, in sheer stockings, spectacularly perfect, dragging his eyes down in involuntary attraction as she stepped toward him. . . .
Now, in the dimness, ignoring the erotic sound and action on the screen, his eyes fastened on her sensual lips.
She turned to him. Her knee brushed his pantleg with a hiss of nylon and a gentle, continuing pressure. She arched an eyebrow. "Something?"
"I'd like very much to kiss you." His heart was thudding.
"It's about time." She leaned toward him, her arms came up to rest easily, languidly, on his shoulders. Her hands cupped the back of his head. Her lush mouth opened slightly. Her lovely face loomed before him . . . Brace's mind reeled. It was like sinking into a warm, sweet, soft, perfumed heaven. Her voluptuous lips seemed to yield, to flow and possess ... He was barely conscious of putting his arms around her, of pulling her tight,
of feeling her nipples even through his coat and shirt, of feeling the pliant warmth of her body.
He stabbed his tongue into her hot mouth and was welcomed by a fluttering, darting, scheming imp. He lost himself. For infinitely sweet, deliriously exciting moments he gave his soul to the exquisitely carnal lure of her incredibly sensual kisses.
His penis was a thing apart from him, a separate entity, growing enormous in his pants, demanding an awareness he did not wish to give, so sweet was Linda's mouth.
But his penis prodded upward painfully, pressing against his belt, needing more room.
Linda slid her soft, full lips off his still-hungry mouth, and chuckled, not unkindly. "Don't you ever get enough?"
"Not of you, not the way you kiss."
"Flatterer." She let one arm fall from around his neck ... to his lap. "How else do I affect you?" Her fingers brushed curiously against her pants and encountered the tremendous bulge,of his penis. "Oh .. ." She explored its massive thickness and length. "Oh, my Lord!" She searched his face in the flickering, reflected light from the ignored screen. "Is this real?"
"Yeah ... all me."
"Oh, I've got to see this.. . ." She gently pushed him back into the sofa so she could undo his belt and open his pants.
Bruce settled back and watched her face and her soft, knowing hands as she uncovered his penis. When she pulled his shorts down, his rigid, throbbing shaft reared up away from his belly. It angled up like a pale cannon.
"I don't believe this...." Linda handled it, reverently, in awe. She smiled. "You should be in our pictures. What an incredible thing!" She stared at it for a few seconds, then looked up, wide-eyed. "Oh ... you want to get this into me, don't you?" Her hands were still on it, brushing it, caressing it.
Bruce nodded and found his voice. "Do you want it in you?"
She didn't answer at first. She looked down at it, then nodded slowly. "My way ... with me on top."
Bruce said huskily, "Any way you want."
She smiled. "A moment...." She left the sofa, clicked the lock on the projection room door, picked up the inter-office phone beside the whirring projector and turned off the sound. Linda pushed a button. "Marge, no calls for thirty minutes." She cradled the phone and did not turn the sound track up.
The erotic movie continued its silent run on the screen as Linda returned to the sofa. "We should be undressed, shouldn't we?" She stood up against the screen and unzipped the back of her dress, the moving colors and shapes of the film playing over her as she pulled the red dress up and over her head.
Bruce undressed himself without taking his eyes from her. She stood wearing only sheer pantyhose and red slippers. She stepped out of her slippers and a moment later dropped the wispy pantyhose to the floor where her dress lay.
She was naked____a psychedelic vision with colored shadows moving on her pointed, pearlike breasts, on her narrow waist and slim, yet womanly hips, on her small, thick muff of black pubic
hair, on her long, spectacular legs.
She came to him as he pulled off his undershirt and was finally naked, too, sinking gracefully to her knees on the carpet and gently urging his legs apart. He was still sitting on the sofa. She moved between his legs and took his jerking, rigid giant of a penis in her hands. Linda said, as she stroked the quivering organ with featherlike touches, "To an aborigine people you would be a god. They would worship you. Perhaps like this.. . ."
She lowered her head. Her voluptuous mouth opened and her full lips touched the taut, mauve-colored, heart-shaped glans. Slowly ... slowly ... her lips enclosed it. Her mouth took it into warmth and wetness and her tongue did magic things along the super-sensitive underside. Bruce watched with intense feelings of lust and of pleasure. It was happening! He groaned in a welter of sensation.
Linda's head moved slowly in an up-and-down and circular pattern. Her hands grazed the throbbing shaft, her fingertips delved between his thighs and tickled his scrotum, and her fingernails oh-so-lightly trailed along his inner thighs ... over his tense belly . . . while her incredibly skilled lips and mouth and tongue sucked and sucked and sucked....
Bruce existed only in his tingling, pulsing loins. He groaned again. The hot glow of an orgasm was condensing, concentrating.... He wanted with all his heart and soul and guts for her to continue her slow, ecstatic sucking. He wanted to shoot in her mouth ... to finish this ravishing, sensual existence with the mind-shattering climax that he felt building.
But she slowed her movements and with exquisite deliberation took her mouth from him. She whispered, "Now .. . my way."
Linda rose up and straddled him as he sat on the plush, deep sofa. His massive penis was half-imprisoned under her velvety crotch as she leaned forward and they kissed again ... and Bruce gave up his soul to her soft, sweet mouth.
She leaned away and he put his hands on her small, lush breasts. He leaned forward and down and took a dark, pointed nipple between his thin lips. He sucked and licked, running his hands up and down her smooth, flawless back-and all the while his penis throbbed under her pressing weight in the hot valley of her crotch.
Linda whispered, "I'm a whore, Bruce. I'm the best, most expensive whore in this state. I've been everywhere and I've done almost everything . . . but I've never had to take anything this big till now"
"If I'm too big-"
"No ... you're a challenge. Something new for Linda." She kissed him lingeringly, hotly, for an endless, too-short moment, and then rose up on her knees as she continued to straddle him. She reached under and held his huge penis upright. She lowered and rubbed herself on the glans. Leaning forward, she whispered breathlessly, "Here I go," and pressed down on him, inhaling sharply....
He felt the mouth of her vagina strain to open far enough to take him. He felt a spasmodic twitching-Then he was in!
"Oh, my Lord... ." She hovered on him, seemingly afraid to press lower. But finally, after long
seconds, as her vagina reconciled itself to his size, she took her hand from his shaft and braced herself with both hands on his shoulders, letting her weight press more of his giant penis up into her body. "Oh! ..." Her nostrils flared.
Bruce cupped his hands under the velvety globes of her buttocks, fondling the taut flesh. Linda had about six inches of thick hard meat in her and he wanted her to sink down and take it all. She was quivery inside, hot and slippery. He didn't like this woman-superior position, but just being inside this stunning creature at all was a tremendous thrill.
Linda began moving up and down on him, cautiously. She undulated and rotated, breathing fast. She said softly, "It feels good ... this much of you. I can make it like this...."
The previous manipulation and delicious sucking had primed Bruce, and now her extremely voluptuous movements were driving him toward a helpless-to-resist orgasm.
He gasped, "I'm going to come in a minute."
"I'll make it the best you've ever had," she said, moving faster on him, adding a corkscrewing, twisting move of her hips that drew a moan of appreciation from him. And she drove herself further down on the thick, white flesh pole. She sucked air in delighted gasps, and filled herself, and stretched herself.
Linda's loins rose and fell in long adroit swoops and engorged gyrations. Her vagina was tight and syrupy, exquisitely alive with inner muscles that milked almost all his fat, buried penis.
Bruce panted, "OH, JESUS-kits* me- please ..."
Linda's hot sweet mouth came to him. She lashed her exciting tongue deep into his mouth. Her soft lips spread and clung ... she fucked him fast and deep and wildly, driving him into the tightest, hottest limit of herself.
Bruce let himself go. He jolted up into her as she clung to him, her mouth sucking at his mouth her nostrils flared wide for hungry lungfuls of air.
They moaned and tried to maintain their kiss, but couldn't. Bruce was gripping her sleek hips, pulling her down, impaling her completely on the tower of his penis. And he was spurting, spurting, spurting, and he was roaring, shouting, in his agony of sweet, overwhelming pleasure.
Linda rode him, plunged and rose and plunged, her face twisted with rapture, panting, sobbing uncontrollably, her face pressed in the hollow of his shoulder and neck.
Gradually their madness eased.... They lay clinging, united, moist with sweat, feeling each other's heart slowing. The projector continued to throw erotic scenes on the screen.
After a moment, Linda stirred. "Excuse me." She slid off him. His softened penis snaked out of her.
She went to the door and snapped on soft white overhead lights. She was lovely, naked, and walked with unconscious dignity. She went to the projector and turned it off. She leaned over the back of the sofa and kissed Bruce fleetingly on the lips. "I'll be back in a moment." She picked up her clothes and went to a door he hadn't noticed. It opened to a bathroom.
Bruce sighed deeply several times as he began to dress.
Linda emerged from the bathroom five minutes later, dressed, groomed, beautiful, poised. But her eyes were slightly dilated when she approached him. "Bruce . . . I'm a corporation whore. I'm a persuader. I'm a bonus, sometimes. The extra added attraction."
He nodded.
"But with you ... I wasn't acting. I wasn't being professional at all at the end."
"Can we be together again?"
"Yes ... if you sell your theater to us."
"Now you're the company whore again?"
She nodded and smiled-a luscious smile. "My job pays me very, very well."
The lure was there. Now that he had experienced her.... Bruce grinned. "I'll work on Ann." He looked at his watch. "I've got to start back. I'll be late as it is."
Linda ran her fingers through his bushy hair. "Till next time____"
Sherri said, "Isn't anyone home but us?"
Betty shook her head. Her long pigtail whipped like a lazy snake. "Mom doesn't get back from work till after six ... and I leave for the Jefferson about then."
"Don't you have a father?" Sherri wandered around the small house, touching family pictures, sitting in overstuffed chairs and looking at old books in a bamboo bookcase.
"He's gone. He ran off when I was ten." Betty's large dark eyes followed Sherri slavishly. "Want to see my room?"
"Okay." Sherri followed the slim, little-girl-
looking teen-ager down a short, narrow hall to a small room. The twin bed was covered with stuffed animals. It was a child's room.
Betty sat cross-legged on the bed and began to blink a lot.
Sherri moved two dogs and a bunny and sat on the bed beside her. "Now what?" She sensed Betty wasn't going to suggest studying. Sherri was curious.
Betty wet her lips. "I-I really want you to like me. I think ... I think you're just beautiful!" She looked at Sherri with soul-hungry, yearning eyes.
Sherri smiled. She lay on her back and played with a fluffy kitten. "If you don't watch out, Betty, you'll turn into a lesbian."
"I don't care. I'll just be whatever I am."
Sherri waited. She examined the ceiling.. She asked, "Do you want to kiss me?"
"Oh, yes!" Betty moved quickly closer and pressed warm, inexperienced lips on Sherri's mouth.
Sherri pulled her lips free. "You're a virgin in everything, you really are. Want me to teach you how to kiss?"
Betty nodded quickly, her sad eyes lighting up.
"First let your mouth go loose, sort of .. ." Sherri was amused by the situation. She actually enjoyed teaching the younger, immature girl the basics of erotic kissing.
Five minutes later she knew she had been a good instructor. Betty had her arms around her and was feverishly working her tongue in her mouth. And it was affecting Sherri. She was turning on! She broke Betty's passionate kiss, and lay breathing
deeply, avoiding looking at the girl. "Wow. I don't know about this...."
"Don't you like it? I love it!" Betty was flushed. Her eyes sparkled. She lay pressed against Sherri.
"How far do you want to go?"
"Oh!" Betty blinked rapidly. Her eyes turned soft and submissive. "I'll do anything you want. Do you want me to-to kiss your titties?"
Sherri laughed. "Okay. Undress me. Kiss my big tits, for a start."
Betty's hands trembled as she opened Sherri's blouse and skirt and slipped them off as Sherri cooperated. Then the bra. . .. Betty pulled the bra cups from the large white breasts. Released, the deep flesh settled to softer, low-profile mounds on the sides of Sherri's chest.
Betty's eyes were wide. She was breathing fast. She placed a trembling left hand on Sherri's left breast. She said wonderingly, "It's so warm!" She drifted her hand in small gentle circles over both breasts .. . over the big nipples.
Betty gave a small childish whimper and filled her eager mouth. She suckled. The nipples rose and hardened. A tiny muscle began to spasm in Sherri's neck.
Betty's soft hands patted and fondled and she kissed and sucked on Sherri's breasts for long moments. She said shyly, "Am I doing all right?"
Sherri nodded wordlessly. Then she said unevenly, "I'm ready for what comes next."
Betty blinked very fast, her eyes round. She looked dartingly at Sherri's center, then at Sherri's face. She chewed her lower lip for long seconds and began to cry. "I guess I really am a les-
bian. I want to do that. I want to." She pressed her face against Sherri's large, soft, drooping breast.
Sherri patted her head and shoulder. "You're not a lesbian. You're just afraid of boys."
"No, I'm not afraid of them! I just don't-I'm not interested in boys. I don't look at them all the time ... the way other girls do. I don't care about boys. All I like to look at are girls ... and you. All I can think about is you."
Betty suckled on Sherri's breast for a long minute. Her hands moved tentatively, curiously, awkwardly, eagerly, to Sherri's panties, and slid the panties, and slid the panties down off Sherri's hips ... as Sherri lifted.
Betty sniffled and kissed Sherri's belly. She shifted lower. "How do we ... I've never done it before."
Sherri raised her knees, moving on the bed to give the girl room, her heart thumping fast and hard. This was new territory for her.
Betty didn't hesitate. She pressed her warm lips against Sherri's wet vulva. Her tongue darted into the slit and as if guided by instinct, flicked over Sherri's large clitoris.
A galvanic flare of sensation went through Sherri. Her loins undulated. She gasped, "Oil, good!"
Betty darted her tongue again and again. She licked passionately. Her hands framed Sherri's slit and pursed it open. Her head moved up and down, up and down as she worked her fluttering tongue.
Sherri began to writhe. "Oh . .. oh, you're a natural! . .." She lifted her head to watch for a panting, gasping moment.
Betty met Sherri's gaze adoringly. She kept on licking, working her tongue in complicated, slithering patterns.
"Uhh ..." Sherri shivered as a rippling, shimmering orgasm took her. "Oh . . . it's ... .so ... strong...." Her face contorted as she shuddered. "Oh, God-"
Betty buried her face between Sherri's thighs and trilled her tongue with maniacal skill. She sobbed for breath.
Sherri jerked and thrashed, hitting the bed with her fists. Her thighs and belly spasmed. "Stop ... Betty, stop!"
Betty lifted her head, her mouth and cheeks and chin and nose wet with Sherri's juices. "Don't you like it?"
"Oh, God ..." Sherri laughed weakly. "I love it. Are you mire that's the first time you've done this?" She rose up on her elbows.
Betty nodded vehemently. "I want to do it to you some more. It gives me a shivery feeling all over to make you happy like that."
"Ohh ... you make me happy. Wow. What a scene." Sherri settled back. "Okay ... slow and easy, though. I'll tell you when to go all out."
Betty happily kissed Sherri's puffed, pink vulva lips. She whispered, too softly for Sherri to hear, '7 love yon! . . ." She slowly inserted her tongue....
Sherri groaned.
When Bruce entered the theater a half-hour late, Ann was furious.
"Where've you been all afternoon?"
"I went into the city to talk to Varga."
"Oh? Without letting me know?" She became suspicious. "Are you trying to ... ? Just you remember, dear, that I legally own half of this theater. Half of it is in my name!"
"I know." He picked up the film cans by the office door. The new features had arrived earlier.
"You were supposed to fix those broken seats this afternoon, remember?"
"I'll get to them tomorrow." He headed for the auditorium doors.
"You don't give a fig that I was alone all afternoon." She felt only contempt for Bruce. She put all the scorn and ridicule she could into her voice and manner. "You're so lazy! And sloppy! Even when you dress up you look sloppy." She let him get through the door, following and yelling shrewishly up at him as he went up the steep side stairs to the balcony, "Don't forget to change into your work clothes up there! All I need is to find grease or oil on that suit!"
Bruce grunted.
Ann watched him. She wrinkled her small nose in disgust. He is such a worm! No real man would let me treat him like this. A real man would hit me . . . maul me . . .force me to treat him with respect . . . and force me to be the kind of woman he wants! She shivered at the images that surfaced in her mind.
Near closing time that night, Ann sat in the office at the desk with the office door open so she could see the lobby, in case any of the few people still watching the last feature of the night should
want candy or ice cream or popcorn. She was totaling up the night's receipts, and frowning with concentration. After all these years she still wasn't good at simple arithmetic.
A movement caught her eye-it was that husky, tigerlike boy again! Wearing jeans and a white T-shirt and a grey sweatshirt.
Ann's heart did a skip-beat and her thighs tensed against each other. She worked her mouth and tried to swallow.
He had seen her in the office! He was striding erratically toward her, looking mean and vicious!
Oh, God, he's drunk! Ann's heart shook her body. She got weakly to her feet as he came into the office. She said forcefully, "What do you want?" It took everything she had to sound unafraid. She couldn't help her fast, frightened breathing. What a magnificent animal!
He glared at her. "What're you charging tonight?"
She managed, "The same." Then her breath caught and her eyes dilated as she realized he might mean-
"A penny a grope?" He sneered drunkenly, his voice loud.
"Keep your voice down, or leave!" She felt dizzy. She could smell his sweat, his breath! She leaned forward to brace her thighs against the desk.
He kicked the door closed. "That better? Now we got some privacy."
Ann gasped, "Open that door!" She didn't move.
"No." He dug into his pocket and tossed a quarter on the desk. "What do I get for that? Gonna take your bra off for me?"
Ann brought a trembling hand up and took off her glasses. "You dirty-minded-you'd have to force me! You'd have to tear the clothes off my body and rape me!"
He snorted. "Who the fuck would want to rape you?" His eyes raked up and down. "You're not worth the effort."
"You're not man enough!" The words, the challenge, had come out before she had thought. Now a shivery, icy fear lanced through her. The room billowed in her vision.
"Oh, yeah?" He reached across the desk and stepped around the side-in an instant he had his hand clamped on her flaccid, bra-clad breast. His big, muscular arm slammed her around and pinned her with her back to his chest.
Ann was hot and weak. She gasped in a terrified whisper, "Please, no . . . oh, God, no!..."
His other hand was under her dress, his fingers were ripping at her panties and garter belt. Something was spasming in her belly. A hot ball of dreadful anticipation sprang into life in her groin.
Ann struggled to break his hold. He was panting. She felt the powerful surge of his chest against her upper back and shoulders felt the big, hard bulge of his genitals against her plump buttocks.
He had ripped her panties open! His hand was pressing, rubbing on her mound, and his fingers were digging into her, between the lips! Ravaging her! Thick, dirty fingers-
Suddenly he was dragging her down to the floor. He was grunting, forcing her onto her back, jamming his knee between her soft thighs.
She had forgotten to wear a girdle! Site had for-
gotten! This one night-
His iron-muscled arm was across her chest, mashing her left breast, almost crushing her. She whimpered. "Don't, please don't-"
He paid no attention to her words. He was pulling open his jeans, opening a wide front vee, pushing them down, freeing his penis.
She saw it, big and half-hard, but thickening and lengthening, white and pink, the skin drawing back to reveal the mauve glans as blood poured into the inner, spongy chambers and firmed it to full erection.
Ann mewed and pawed feebly. Her strength was gone. Her loins had a weird heat in them. There was an ache in her belly ... an ache of need.... He was crushing her with his weight. His right hand was cruel at her center. He was probing with his penis, shoving-Ann stifled a shriek as he rammed into her. He was big! Not as monstrous as Bruce, but-it had been years since she had attempted intercourse.
He grunted and panted in her ear. He thrust in as far as he could! An electric charge of currentlike pain was in her, was transformed into hot, exciting sensation.
Ann quivered as if harpooned. Her soft, rounded belly quaked under his hard, ridged stomach. He fucked her! He was merciless! He grunted and groaned and fucked! He smacked down into her. His powerful loins drove his penis into her to the hilt with each jolting thrust.
Ann at first cringed under him. But then the secret lust in her burst into command and she crooned, "Ahhhh .. . ahhhh ... AHHHH ..."
His weight and power and ruthlessness! She
gloried in it! Her thighs loosened and opened to the limit. The heat in her loins became molten and liquid as the fuck went on and on! She wept with pleasure she didn't want to show. "Beast- you beast. .."
A sweet, incredible melting sensation began to fill her belly. "Oh God-" The melting feeling became stronger .. . stronger! She convulsed with rapture! "AHHH!" She hit him frantically with her small, soft ineffective fists, felt him as a golden implement thrusting into her! No longer brutal and painful. Welcome! WELCOME!
She felt him moving faster and harder. He bucked and shuddered and seemed to curse without words. And then he was done, lying heavily on her small, plump body, panting, drawing deep breaths.
Ann lay shaking, in a kind of psycho-sexual shock. Her mind was a mass of broken thoughts as he suddenly stumbled to his feet, jerking up his underwear and jeans. He snapped and zipped in a gasping, fumbling fear and was gone out the door.
Ann lay trembling for a moment. Then still dazed and shaken, she got to her feet and almost absent-mindedly smoothed down her dress. As she became aware of his semen-oozing down her thighs-she began to sob. She took tissues from a box on the desk and wiped herself. There would be no pregnancy. She had been sterile for years.
She settled gingerly into the desk chair and sniffled and tried to concentrate on the receipts. It didn't enter her mind to report what had happened to the police.
SIX
"Isn't this cozy?" Betty wriggled with delight next to Sherri. She slid her hand under the covers to Sherri's naked hip.
"It has its points." Sherri wondered why she had agreed to spend the night with Betty. Betty had lured her with the promise of concentrated help in Spanish, and with the unspoken lure of all the tongue she could stand. That was a lot of sex. A whole night of Betty's wild mouth and tongue.
Betty's mother was away for two days .. . Sherri had no date for the evening . . . the Spanish final was ominously close.... All these things had brought her to this narrow bed at eleven-thirty on a Friday night.
Betty had drilled her and taught her more Span-
ish in one night than she had learned in a term. And now the fun was about to begin. Hot, itchy anticipation coiled in her belly.
Sherri said, "We've got to get one thing straight, Betty. The last two weeks, since I first came over here-Well, you're really getting obvious the way you moon around after me and look at me at school. Just cool it, can't you?"
"I love you."
"Okay, but don't show it!"
"I'll try. I'll be careful." But it sounded insincere. Betty ran her small hand up Sherri's warm, slender body to her sloping breasts.
Sherri frowned. She had the feeling she was getting in too deep with this baby butch. She decided that after tonight she'd have to really cool it off with Betty. But now-now Betty's hand was playing with her breasts in an exciting, childish way. There was still so much of the ten-year-old in Betty.
Sherri twisted and lay on her back, watching the blanket as Betty's hand, mole-like, moved from one covered breast to the other.
Betty fitted herself closer to Sherri's side. She breathed in Sherri's ear. "Want me to lick your lollipop now?" That was Betty's nice way of saying it.
Sherri smiled. She locked her hands behind her neck and stretched and growled. She yawned, kicking the covers down. "Okay, eat me!"
Betty began sucking on Sherri's large nipples. Her hands squeezed the deep, white, surrounding flesh as a baby might. She made wet contented sounds.
Sherri stroked Betty's head. "You sure know
how to use your mouth! ..." "Mmmm ..."
Soon a ticklish glow was in Sherri's breasts, making them swell up a little, making them firmer and more sensitive. Her nipples were like stiff buttons of red rubber. The areolas were crinkled and bumped. She lay restless. Her breathing had quickened. Her hand stroked down Betty's naked, pimpled back. Sherri experimentally slipped her hand under Betty's arm and touched the protruding little breast she found there. The nipple was tiny, a pinhead ... like a man's nipple.
Betty's hand slipped down to the warm, open hollow of Sherri's loins. Her fingers rubbed lightly in the curly tangle of blonde hair, then slipped surely lower to the exposed lips. One finger rode gently up and down in the slowly parting, moistening slit. Gradually the finger sank into the vulva, deeper, still moving up and down the length of the groove, but now in slippery juices, surrounded by inner, pink surfaces. Betty's fingertip rode in the groove like a phonograph needle ... up and slightly into the opening to the vagina, then up and out of that dip to the small gorge of flesh leading to the grapelike clitoris . . . over the clitoris to the top of the valley ... then down again, over the swollen clitoris....
Sherri said, after a moment, "Put your finger all the way in."
Betty's fingertip tantalized first by rubbing in circles around the vagina entrance, then it eased inside, still moving in small circles . . . and in . . . and in . . . probing now, feeling the ripply walls of the vagina.
"Fingerfuck me!"
Betty obeyed.
Sherri worked her hips slowly, enjoying the gently plunging finger. But it wasn't enough. She pictured the huge cock of the projectionist at the Jefferson. She whispered, "More . . . deeper ..."
Betty relinquished sucking Sherri's nipples for a moment. "I could use something, if you want." She reached to the bedside table. She picked up a hairbrush with a smooth, rounded pink plastic lu-cite handle. "I could use this."
Sherri nodded and closed her eyes. She felt the cool end of the handle in her slit... now in her vagina, sliding into her . . . cool, foreign . . . going in deep .. . then Betty's hand acted as a pommel, protecting Sherri's sensitive vulva from the prickly nylon bristles. She slid the handle in and out.
"Harder."
Betty started a smooth jabbing movement. Her closed thumb and forefinger bumped Sherri's open vulva, her exposed, wet clitoris.
Sherri's eyes flared open and then slowly closed.
Betty resumed sucking Sherri's nipple. Her arm and wrist were tireless as she fucked Sherri with the brush handle.
Sherri began to writhe sensuously, wrapping her arms around Betty's neck. She panted. Her hips jerked to meet the steady plunge of the hard, smooth plastic and the regular thump-thump-thump-thump of Betty's grip.
Sherri climaxed. She sucked fast, deep lungfuls of air. "UHH-UHH!" She thrust out her breasts, arched her back . .. then she went limp, for a few seconds.
Betty continued the steady jabbing. She shiv-
ered. "Should I stop?"
Sherri lay gasping, her hips still undulating to the thrust of the brush and the gentle impacts that were like a string of pleasure firecrackers going off in her belly.
Sherri said, "Yes, stop, but keep that thing handy. Wow!" She lay quiet for a few moments. She continued petting Betty. Finally Sherri said, "Now go down on me. Lick me and lick me and lick me!"
"Oil, yes." Betty slid down on the bed and lovingly kissed Sherri's still-trembling inner thighs. Her hands joined, as if in prayer, over Sherri's flushed vulva, then made gentle, contact and tenderly opened the wet vulva lips to reveal the glistening, distended clitoris, the small, gaping entrance below, the violently pink color. Betty kissed the pinkness, then began to tongue inward .. . over the waiting clitoris. . ..
Sherri whispered luxuriously, "Oh, so �]ce . . ." She began to writhe like a belly dancer.
Betty closed her eyes, happy. She moved her head up and down, her tongue delicately caressed Sherri's vibrant clitoris while Sherri existed in a state of lazy, sexual pleasure. Her sex slave was performing so beautifully! An orgasm was gathering itself again in her loins. And, she thought, like the storms that swept across the state that originated in the Pacific . . . there were other sweet, hot climaxes in the near future, waiting to be generated in the furnace of her cunt. She rolled the word in her mind ... In my cunt . . . Betty is licking my ciuit!
She worked her hips sinuously as the sensation suffused her body. Nobody could do it as good as
Betty! She whispered brokenly, "Now . . . eat me fast...."
Betty pressed her open, hot mouth fully against Sherri's gaping vulva, and her tongue fluttered with an incredible snakelike quickness over and around the thrumming clitoris.
Sherri succumbed to the storm of rapture that broke in her. She convulsed helplessly, screaming against the back of her hand. Her thighs closed on Betty's head, then flew open as she bucked and arched.
When the intense peak of ecstasy passed, she lay as if melted, panting.
Betty raised her head proudly. "I gave you a good one, didn't I?"
Sherri chuckled in awe.
"Want me to do it again?"
Sherri drew a great breath into her lungs and sighed, "Yes!..."
Max prowled the house. He was scared. Waiting to be arrested for rape was a lousy trip. For almost two weeks he had lived in dread. What the hell were they waiting for?
Then he began to wonder a little. Maybe she didn't report it! Maybe. ... He had to know. Maybe she couldn't identify me good enough. But hell, the cops'd pick up every big guy in town with brown hair, sideburns, a mustache.
Max finally decided to call the Jefferson. It was late, the ticket girl would be gone and she would be the one to answer. He went into the hall to the phone. As he dialed he heard his mother snoring-conked out, in a drunken stupor, lying on
her bed, practically naked. He had looked in on her a few minutes ago. He turned his back to her half-open bedroom door.
The phone rang six times before the woman answered it. "Jefferson Theater."
"Hey, did you report what I did?"
"Who is this?"
"You know. Are the cops looking for me?" "Oh!" She was silent. "Look, I'm sorry. I was-"
"No, I didn't tell anybody. I would have been too humiliated. It would have been too embarrassing."
"Yeah, well .. . thanks."
There was another silence. Max was about to hang up when she said, "What was the matter with you? You acted-crazy."
His thoughts skittered around images of his mother on the sofa-fucking herself with that big rubber cock-and he said, stammering, "I-I w-was all mixed up. Something happened and I ... I came apart that night."
"Oh. I realized you weren't yourself. After you left ... I understood there had to be a good reason ..."
"Yeah. Thanks for not-"
"I forgive you. I'll even promise not to go into hysterics if you ever come into the theater again."
"Well, thanks." Max frowned. "Goodbye." He hung up. That was a load off his mind! But something else was wrong now.... He went into the kitchen and looked in the refrigerator for something to gnaw on. He took a raw carrot and went into the dark living room to think about the puzzle that was slowly fitting itself together in his mind.
Now that his fear was gone he could think and remember clearly.
That woman . . . that short, dumpy woman . .. He scowled and tried to recall every detail of what had happened that night. . . . Abruptly his forehead smoothed. His eyes widened and then narrowed. He whispered to himself, "That bag of shit enjoyed it! She made it!"
And now she was forgiving him! For giving her what she dug! Rape! That was her scene. Max sat back on the sofa and laughed silently, contemptuously. His mother clicked on the hall light and entered the living room from the hall. She didn't see him. She walked unsteadily.
Having taken off her bra and panties and slip, she wore only a thin printed rayon housecoat that hung open and showed her very large, naked, swaying breasts . . . and her heavy, thick thighs that quivered with each step . . . the dark triangular muff at her center.
Her dyed blonde hair needed combing. She mumbled to herself, thinking herself alone in the house. ". . . coeksucker he can't do that to me ..."
She turned on a lamp and blinked and squinted in the sudden light . . . and saw Max. She fumbled to bring her housecoat together in front. "Oh . .. Maxie. You s'prised me." She smiled loosely. "Did you see my body again? I guess it can't hurt so much now. You're a grown boy, anyway. I don't have anything you probably haven't seen before . .. lots of times . . . hmm?" She swayed slightly. She waited a few seconds. She said, "You know where the TV Guide is? I wanna watch-"
"I'm going out!" Max lunged up from the sofa and went past her, eyes straight ahead. He yelled,
"Get plastered all you want!" He was in the kitchen. "And screw every barfly in town if you want! I don't give a shit!"
He slammed the side door and went to his car, raging, burning inside. She's just like any other woman . . . bitch! BITCH!
Bruce stepped out of the hot shower with an erection. His penis was heavy and stiff, sticking out and down, swaying like an ivory-colored sausage between his thighs. He grabbed a large green towel from a stack on the shelf over the toilet, opened the bathroom door and said, "The place will need a major painting in another year. We'll need a new screen pretty soon, too. Those things cost a fortune!"
Ann was in bed, reading a movie magazine. She didn't answer. Her lips firmed.
"And I can't keep fixing those seats forever. We should put five thousand dollars into redecorating. Where the hell are we going to get that kind of money, free and clear?" He tossed the towel into the hamper and walked naked into the bedroom. Let her squawk!
Ann stared fixedly at the glossy pages of the magazine. Her pudgy fingers tightened on the paper.
Bruce climbed into bed beside her. His massive penis flopped and then slapped against his belly. He said, "We ought to sell to Varga. Let the corporation spend its money on renovating the place." He lay on top of the blankets. His erection didn't go soft. He wanted Ann to masturbate him-at least-tonight.
Ann finally spoke. "My answer is no. To both of the things you want me to do."
Bruce understood. He looked down at his huge erection. His penis seemed to pulse in his mind, too, to be asking for pleasure ... why not a little pleasure? He said, "I need relief, Ann." There was a pleading note in his voice, and a beginning anger.
She turned a page. "I couldn't care less."
Seething rage boiled in him. He tore the magazine from her hands. "What are you trying to do to me?"
"You'd never understand." She glanced at his nakedness and at his penis. "Do it yourself."
He almost hit her. His fists doubled up and his arm muscles tensed. A part of his mind urged him on: Slug her! Force her to do it. Make her suck you . . . make her spread for you! His mind filled with memories of Linda. His guts twisted with longing for a wife like her.
Bruce slumped back against the pillow. He was trapped with Ann. She was a good wife-hardworking, kept the house clean, a fine cook . . . but-
He muttered, "I will. Thanks for nothing!" He closed his right hand around his penis and began a slow pumping, watching the slow sweep of his hand up and down the length of his thick shaft. The foreskin rode up over the glans, then was drawn down....
He closed his eyes and imagined Linda was beside him. She would gladly reach over and take his penis in her soft, knowing hand. . . . She would excite him that way for a moment, then lean over him and her lush mouth would gpen and slide down over his glans....
Bruce moved his hand faster. The bed began to shake. The sensations were coming now, filling his great penis, trickling a few tendrils of warm pleasure into his belly. He breathed through his mouth. He shifted hands. His left elbow rubbed against Ann's waist. She shifted away.
Now the pleasure was building, getting stronger, making his penis extra hard, extra stiff. He breathed deeper and faster, his hand moving violently up and down. Good, good, feels .so good! Behind his closed eyes the image of Linda sucking him persisted.
Bruce went tense and muscle-locked. His belly ridged. His head lifted off the pillow. He was on the edge-coming. . . .
Ann's disapproving, harpy-like voice cut through his pleasure and fantasy. "Don't you dare squirt all over the bed! Get a towel!"
But it was too late. He was beyond the point of being able to stop the climax. He gasped and opened his eyes and pumped madly. The pleasure was weak, pallid, diminished by her thoughtless words. He aimed his penis to the left. The first spasm sent a gob of semen onto her arm. An instant later another spurt landed on her pajamas.
"Oh! I told you-"
After that the stuff landed on his hip and oozed out onto his belly. Bruce ignored Ann's disgusted sounds, milking himself of every bit of sensation.
She hopped out of bed and went into the bathroom. "I'll have to change pajamas now! You did that deliberately!"
"You're damn right I did!" He thought for a moment about leaving her. It would serve her right!
Sherri lay in the darkness, on top of the covers, waiting. She looked at her small luminous-dial watch. Two-twenty! Wow. She had had at least a dozen orgasms from Betty's mouth and tongue ... so far. Betty really was good at it, and didn't show any signs of getting tired. And noiv-
Betty padded back into the bedroom. She climbed into the narrow bed. "There was.a cucumber, but it's cold! I put it in a pan of water on the stove ... to warm up."
Sherri laughed. "You're serious. Hey, I only said I wished I could get fucked. I didn't mean-a cucumber!" She giggled.
"I couldn't think of anything else that would be like a boy that way." Betty patted Sherri's breasts lovingly, then kissed them. "I just want to make you happy."
"It's a shame you're not a boy." Sherri stroked Betty's head and toyed with the long pigtail. "I wish I was. I wish I had a thing a foot long!" Sherri laughed.
A few moments later Betty left the bedroom. She returned, in the darkness, with something in her right hand . . . "It's nice and warm now. And I got some vaseline from the bathroom."
Sherri was embarrassed. She was, for once, glad of the darkness. Because she was going to let Betty go ahead. Sherri was curious. A hot cucumber! Wow! She giggled;
Betty got onto the bed again and sat cross-legged by Sherri's hip, unscrewing the top of the vaseline jar, applying a coating to the cucumber, screwing the jar cap back on....
Betty asked, "Want me to put it in?"
"I'll try anything once." Sherri spread her
thighs. She felt Betty's mouth first-a sweet, hot, tongue-filled kiss into her slit. The licking kiss continued for a long moment. Sherri was beginning to get that tingly glow of pleasure that can lead quickly to an orgasm.
Then Betty took her mouth away. Sherri felt Betty's fingers pouting open her vulva lips. Then -the warm, firm nose of the cucumber was seated in her vulva . . . smooth-skinned, slick, hotter than flesh, blunt.. . . Sherri felt Betty apply pressure, and twist the cucumber around. . . . The thing was thick! Stretching her! Sherri grunted and started to close her thighs. But the full thickness was in her now.
"Hurt?"
"Not really. It's just so big around! Do it slow aud easy." She felt the wrist-thick bulk of the cucumber slide further into her vagina. How long was it? Heat radiated from it into her loins, belly, bowels. God, it was filling her up!
Betty said, "I can't put any more in ... I wouldn't have anything to hold onto."
"Okay ... just fuck me slow and easy."
The bulk moved part way out of her, then slid in ... and out ... and in ... giving off its heat, stirring her in a weird way, somehow....
Sherri began to like it. She felt so wide open, stretched to accommodate that thick roundness. Was it like giving birth to a baby? Maybe a little bit like that. She began to really dig the slow, slippery massiveness of the moving, hot thing in her. She began to move with it. She closed her eyes in the dark and submerged in a fantasy.
It wasn't a cucumber-it was the horsecock of that man in the Jefferson's projection booth. He
had her on a mattress on the floor of the booth. He was over her, supporting himself with his hands and knees, their only contact the immensity of his cock! Drilling her, slow and easy, moving in and out. Calm, no hurry, under control . .. Sherri moaned softly. Her hips lifted as Betty pushed the cucumber deep. Unbidden, sensing the time was right, sensing Sherri's desire, Betty began to plunge the thick vegetable. In the pale darkness, she watched Sherri's face.
Sherri's nostrils flared. She gasped and opened her mouth wide. "Ahhh ..." She fucked with the thing that was fucking her so well. In a dream she was taking the monster cock of that man ... it was impossible for her to take anything thicker than this.... "Ahhh ..." She was going to make it! "AHHHHH. . .."
Betty was bumping Sherri's gaping vulva and distended clitoris with the butt of her hand where she gripped the end of the cucumber. She saw the quiver of pleasure ripple Sherri's belly and surface in Sherri's twitching face.
Then the orgasm came-Betty watched its unfolding with awe and a trembling excitement. Her own pussy was wet with a shivery pleasure, and she panted and whimpered softly as she drove the fat cucumber into Sherri, faster, faster, harder, faster, harder!
Sherri flailed the bed with her arms. Her body tossed and shook. Her heels dug into the bedding and her legs jerked her hips in wild, hungry fucking movements. When she had subsided, when the ache-like pleasure was only a series of tremblings in Sherri's belly, Betty eased the cucumber out of the juicy vulva.
Sherri whispered, "Let me have it." She took it from Betty. She held it in her hands, measured it with her fingers, felt its thickness and length. Wow. Did I take all thin? What a turn-on! She pictured again the huge cock she had seen in the hands of the man in the projection room doorway. / can take him. That cock is maybe longer than this thing, but I can take that meat!
Sherri smiled and handed the cucumber back. "That's enough for tonight. Let's get some sleep."
SEVEN
Ben said, "Nice place you and your mother have here." He popped a can of cheap beer. He was slumped on the sofa, his booted feet on the old, scarred coffee table.
Beside him, Howie nodded and burped. "Beats the apartment where me 'n' my folks live. More room."
Denny, now a marginal, clinging, willing-to-do-anything member of the "gang," was sitting on the floor by the TV, half watching a Woody Allen Special.
Eva came into the living room with a big pizza on a tray. She wore a short, low-cut purple dress. When she bent to place the tray on the coffee table, facing Howie and Benny, her heavy, soft
breasts threatened to fall out of her dress. Her bra was only big half-cups and stretch straps.
The boys were all eyes. Howie flashed a glance at Max, and grinned. He twiddled an imaginary cigar and waggled his eyebrows. "Somebody must have said the magic word."
Eva said, "Take what you want."
Ben laughed.
Max scowled. She was showing her tits like that deliberately! And she was half-zonked, too. He knew she was sucking on a bottle in the kitchen.
Max said, "Hey, Mom, why don't you leave us guys alone?"
"Why, Maxie, I'm only trying to be hospitable. This is the first time I've met any of your boyfriends."
"Yeah, I vote your mother stays," Howie said, picking up a slice of pizza. "She's nice to look at." He looked up at her swaying bust.
Max said, "We can't talk free with a woman around."
Eva settled into a chair with a section of pizza delicately cradled in her hands. She nibbled at it. "You boys can't say anything I haven't heard before." She settled a bit lower in the chair. Her purple dress rode up her doughy thighs.
Max felt sick. What the hell was she trying to do, seduce his gang? He stared down at the carpet. His can of beer dewed on the outside in his hands. Did she have a yen for young pricks? Or was it just any prick at all, no matter who it was attached to? He swallowed cold beer and watched her smile and talk to Denny.
Max felt a cold, painful twisting in his guts. What do you do when your mother is a drunken
Hut? A perverted uympho! Not a damn thing! Jn.st cut loose and don't give a fuck! If yon can!
Howie winked at Ben. "You want to go over to Denny's place later and screw Jenny?"
Ben grinned. He and Howie were testing Eva. "Sure. She's a good fuck, but I think, considering all the angles and such like that, I think she's a better cocksucker."
Max said, "Okay, you guys!"
Eva licked her fingers. "Would you pass me a beer, Howie?"
Howie reached down into the bucket beside the sofa and took a can from the enclosing ice cubes. He popped it for her and leaned far forward to pass it to her.
"Thank you." She drank deeply. "Pizza makes me thirsty." She shifted a bit lower in her chair. She wore no stockings and her black panties were now easily visible to the boys on the sofa. She asked casually, "Don't you boys do anything for your girls, like eating pussy?"
Howie and Ben exchanged looks. Hey, hey!
"Mom, for God's sake!"
She smiled. "I'm interested. I never get to talk with young people honestly like this." She downed more beer.
Max clenched his eyes shut for a second. Something twisted and broke in his mind. ALL RIGHT! He took a deep breath, opened his eyes and said, "I've got an old married woman on the hook I can fuck anytime I want. Every time she looks at me she begs for it."
Howie said, "Freaky. How old is she?"
"About Mom's age." He met Eva's half-drunken gaze. "Looks a lot like you, too."
Eva smiled. "I think that's good. That's a good deal for both of you." She looked straight into Max's eyes. "An older woman can teach a boy a lot of things he should know." She shifted her gaze and winked at Howie and Ben.
Howie and Ben laughed loudly.
Eva said, "I heard a terrific dirty joke yesterday...."
Sherri walked up to the ticket window of the Jefferson. She was alone. She smiled at Betty. "Hi."
Betty came alive. "Oh, hi! You alone?"
"Yeah ... I want to see this picture without fun and games in the balcony." She cocked her head. "Do I have to pay?"
"Oh, no, I can let you in." Betty gazed adoringly at Sherri, as she punched for a ticket on the machine.
Sherri took it. "This free? Won't it show up on the totals or something?"
"That's all right. I'll tell them I punched it up by mistake. It's no big thing. It happens once in a while."
"Okay -t hank s." Sherri gave Betty another smile and started to go inside.
Betty called, "Can you come and stay the night with me tonight? Mother is gone again this week."
Sherri hesitated.
"I have a surprise for you."
"Well ..." She had something to say to Betty. One more long beddy time wouldn't change anything. It would give her time to say it and make it stick. Sherri nodded. "All right. I'll be sitting down around the middle downstairs when you get
through." She went inside the theater and up to the balcony. She had at least an hour and a half before Betty closed up and turned in her cash.
Sherri was a little bit scared. She went up to the projection room door. It was ajar as usual. The balcony was sweltering hot. The couples were just beginning to get started in on heavy krssing and groping.
One colored girl up on the left-between two black boys-wow, was she getting groped! Open blouse and hands all over her breasts. They all sort of blended into the dark seats and brown wall behind them.
Sherri didn't knock on the door. She eased it further open and peered in. He was sitting on a high stool beside one of the big "smokestack" vented projectors, reading a pocketbook by the white, intense light that leaked from the metal, perforated housing. The machine whirred and ground away, unreeling the film. The room flickered with small, flaring, reflected stabs of light from the lenses. It was like an oven in the small room. An exhaust fan spun in a vent in the ceiling, but seemed to do no good.
Sherri entered and closed the door. He didn't hear her. She smiled to herself and felt small prickles of sweat pop out on her skin, in her scalp.
She wasn't wearing a bra and her nipples showed against the thin yellow cotton of her blouse. She wore a blue and gold plaid microskirt, sheer pantyhose and blue sandals.
She moved toward the front of the booth so he'd pick her up in the corner of his eye. Suddenly his head jerked around. His eyes widened beautifully.-Sherri said, "Hi. Remember me?" She had to speak
louder than normal to be heard over the whirring noise of the projector and the low volume sound from the audio track monitor speaker. "What do you want?"
"I guess I just want to get to know you." She smiled and moved a bit closer. "Just curious." She stopped a foot away from him. "I'm Sherri."
He was sweating. His eyes scuttled over her bust, seemed to center on her stick-out nipples, darted up to her young face, to her long blonde hair that flowed down over her shoulders ... to her nipples.
She decided to blow his mind. "I want to see that big cock of yours again ... up close."
He shook his head. "You're too young."
"No, I'm not. You've watched me. You know what I can do." She reached out and rested her right hand lightly on his right thigh. Her long fingers curved down on the inside of his pantleg. She saw a huge swelling close to her fingers-and it was creeping toward her hand.
She was amazed at its size. The heat of it blazed through the thin twill of his tan workpants. She squeezed it gently and said, "Wow. This is really something!" It was almost all the way to his knee! And big around!:-as fat and hard as that cucumber Betty had fucked her with last week! A shiver iced its way up her spine. God, to have this log poled into her! She felt a heat in her lower belly. Her pussy felt drippy. Fifteen years old and she wanted to be fucked blind by the biggest cock in town!
He said huskily, "You'd better get out of here."
"Why? Afraid of what vou might do?"
"Maybe."
She could feel his tension. His thigh muscles were tight. He held his head too stiffly. He sat rigidly on the stool.
She continued to squeeze the hard mass of his penis. "That's why I came up here. What's your name?"
"Bruce."
"Don't be uptight, Bruce." Sherri leaned closer and brushed the yielding, swaying weight of her left breast against his bare right arm. Her nipple poked out and grazed across his muscles, separated only by her thin blouse.
She didn't have to bend her neck to kiss him. His lips were hot. That surprised her.. He intrigued her. She was enjoying being the aggressor-the groper instead of the gropee. Sherri rubbed her hand along the incredible length of his penis as she kissed him. His mouth was reluctant.
She breathed, "Relax. Why not take what's offered?"
That seemed to do it; his arms came up and enclosed her. His mouth softened and took her lips and his tongue met hers willingly. Sherri slid her left arm around his neck. Her right hand stayed on his penis. She liked his kind of awkward, enthusiastic kisses. Wrapping her hand three-quarters around the hot log in his pants and playing tongue games with him was getting her even more wet in the pussy.
She slid her mouth off his for a second. "Put your hands on my breasts." She took his mouth again and felt him pulling her blouse free of her skirt. Then his warm left hand slid up under on her bare stomach and cupped the full roundness of her overdeveloped young breast. She moaned in her
kiss, massaging his penis.
When the kiss ended, finally, as they needed air for starving lungs, Sherri said, "Want to flick me?"
"God knows I do!" He pulled up her blouse and exposed her breasts. He sucked one of her protruding nipples into her mouth.
Sherri ran her left hand fingers through his bushy hair. "Then do it! I'm ready for it." She gave his huge, imprisoned penis a special squeeze with her right hand.
He shook his head.
"We can do it standing up. I'll lay on the floor."
His face twisted. "I want to-You're too damned young! How old are you?" He searched her face. "Eighteen."
"You're lying! Maybe you're sixteen, but-" "I won't tell anybody! I promise!" She dropped both hands to his lap. She pulled open his belt and quickly unsnapped his pants. She ran his zipper, running her fingers down his penis. "Stand up! I'll prove you can trust me!" He stood.
Sherri went to her knees and pulled his pants down off his huge penis. She reached up and grasped the immense shaft with both hands. The big, plum-shaped head was before her eyes for an instant before she closed her lips over it. It was big! She had to strain her mouth to take much of it. She sucked hard, slithering her tongue along the underside. She pumped the skin up close to her clinging, leeching mouth.
Sherri looked up past his shirt to his face. He was looking down at her, obviously tremendously
aroused, his mouth open. He licked his lips. His eyes checked the door, the working projector....
Sherri sucked. Both hands full, mouth full, tongue busy . .. she sucked. Her eyes slowly closed. Site sucked! She liked the feel of so much cockhead in her mouth, and so much shaft in her hands, and she wondered if he'd shoot a lot of semen. Sherri had decided to suck him off! All the way! That would show him. And she could come up in a couple days and he'd shove this monster into her!
She pumped him and worked her mouth on the glans. It was like milking and sucking a huge udder. And soon cream would come gushing out into her mouth. She shivered and liked the shiver. She felt him tense. She used one hand to feel his legs. He was trembling. She fingered his scrotum. His balls were drawn up close to his body, the bag taut, rounded. He was very close to coming.
She used both hands again to pump his shaft. Faster now .. . and she tried to plunge more of his cock into her straining mouth. She whipped her tongue.
She heard him gasping irregularly. He rasped, warningly, "I'm going-"
There was an endless moment. She sucked-and felt his shaft pulse. His penis leaped in her mouth and semen was suddenly in her throat. She had to swallow. More thick, syrupy stuff spurted into her mouth. She swirled her tongue in it and lashed the sensitive areas of his glans and heard him groaning and moaning. She felt his hips twist and thrust. She gagged as hard, thick, ruthless inches of cock were jammed into her mouth, to the back of her throat! More semen was pumped into her gul-
let.
Sherri was astonished and triumphant. Wow, what an orgasm he had! This monster really shot off! Then the violence of his climax passed. She sucked him dry, slipped her mouth off the still big knob, and licked all around. The huge penis drooped and softened in her hands. She sat back on her heels. She grinned up at him. "Woic, huh?"
He grinned and squatted. "Wow, is right. Sherri? You're fantastic."
"Fuck me?"
He laughed. "I can't now. Not tonight." "I mean next time? I'll be up here again." He shook his head in wonder. "If you want me to."
She nodded. "I'll be up here on Monday night. Okay?" She patted his softened, but still very long, penis. It hung almost to the floor as he squatted on his heels.
"God help me-okay."
Max pulled open one of the doors of the Jefferson and spotted instantly the partly open office door at the rear of the empty lobby. He had half a hard-on and half a yen to fuck that dumpy little woman in there! Let Howie and Ben have fun with that little slut, Jenny. He wanted to play with this "older woman!"
He walked into the office. She was at the desk, just like before. He kicked the door shut. He dug the way her eyes rolled behind those junky, fancy glasses.
She gasped, "What are you here for?" "Guess!" He dragged her away from the desk
and grinned as she squeaked and panted with fright. But she didn't scream!
"Let's try kissing." He mashed his lips down on hers, jabbing his tongue against her teeth, holding her head in position with one big, strong hand.
Seemingly by accident her teeth parted and allowed his tongue to rape her mouth. She moaned and quivered against him. Max smiled as he kissed her and ran his left hand onto her rump-no girdle again. He had a flash of insight: she'd been hoping he'd come back!
Max stabbed his tongue far into her mouth and slipped his hand up under her dress, curling his fingers into her panties and garter belt. He tore the belt and panties with one good pull. Fabric came away in his fingers.
She jerked with terror and tried to twist away. 'Wo-oh God, not again!"
"You better believe it!" He tore again at her panties. He dug his fingers in between her fat, clammy thighs.
"Please-I'll give yon money."
Max laughed. "You don't have to pay me, lady. I'll do it for nothing!" He laughed again at the expression that flashed across her face. He pushed her down to the carpet. She went down easy onto her back.
Standing over her, feet spread wide, he slowly unbuckled, unsnapped and unzipped.
Her eyes were wide, magnified by her glasses. She whimpered quietly, waiting, watching.
Max grinned down at her. He dug his,cock out of his briefs and let it hang out. It was only two-thirds hard, still drooping a little. He pushed his jeans and briefs down to mid-thigh. His cock jutted
-
out nicely and his balls were nestled up tight to his groin. He said harshly, "Grab it! Get it hard!" "Oh, no ..."
"Use your hand or you'll get it stuffed into your mouth!" He meant it. Maybe he'd make her suck it next time. Shit, this old broad was a pushover! A weak-freak.
Her small, pudgy hand came up, hesitantly and touched his cock. "You know what to do!"
She stared up at him, towering, looming over her, his powerful legs straddling her hips. She made small "Oh, no, oh no ..." sounds. But her fingers closed around his big cock and began to adroitly pump him.
Max nodded. He had her pegged! She was breathing through her mouth, watching her hanc manipulate him to full erection.
He slapped her hand away. "That's enough Now get your knees up! Get 'em up! Hug your knees!" He got down on the carpet and manhandled her into the position. She was shaking. Her hands were hooked under her thighs and her torn panties were shredded from her crotch. The garter belt lay broken at her waist. Her green dress had been rucked up by her position. She whispered brokenly, "Please . . . I'm not used to it." Her wildly darting eyes closed. "Please . . . go in slow."
Max showed his teeth. He knew what she wanted. He poked the head of his cock into her exposed, defenseless slit, saying, "You're nice and juicy! You really want it!" He notched his cock-head into the inner opening.
Without warning he thrust deep! She sucked in a huge gasp of air. Her belly quivered inside. He
felt a series of inner tremors and minor spasms as he ground his cock in the last possible inch. He was flat up tight, his cock buried.
Her face was flushed, and twitching as if there were ants in her muscles. Her mouth was open, puffing air.
Max leaned forward on her under-thighs and started fucking her-brutally hard and deep. It was good to dominate a woman this way. To have her in this semi-rape. He slogged into her, jolting her, beginning to get a real kick of sensation each time he plunged. Her cunt was beginning to tighten up on his cock. That meant she was feeling it, too!
Max stared down at her face, framed by her knees, and saw his mother. He gritted his teeth at the weird tingling heat that flared in his guts. He fucked more violently, his thrusts making her grunt. Her eyes opened and went soft and rolled up.
She panted, "Beast-wonderful beast-fuck me, you beast!" "Say it again!"
"Fuck me! Like an animal!" She was babbling, writhing, squirming.
Max felt the sweep of pleasure coming to take him. Each plunge was a step closer to climax ... a powerful, approaching release of intense, accumulating sensation. He growled harshly. "Yon bitch! YOU BITCH!" He glared down at her lust-rippling face. "SLUT!"
The heat was exploding in his loins, seizing his mind, blinding him to everything but her face! He smacked into her wildly, his cock erupting, spurting, pistoning in her convulsing cunt. She was into
orgasm, too, great sobs of pleasure were ripped from her gaping mouth.
Max slowed. He lay on her, panting, now avoiding looking at her. He pulled out. She whimpered. He glanced at her contemptuously. He used her dress to wipe his cock, then got to his feet.
She began to cry, rolling over onto her stomach.
He zipped up and buckled. "Thanks for the fuck. I'll be around again." He opened the office door and walked out, whistling.
Betty kissed Sherri's naked left breast. She patted the nipple with two fingers, then licked it. "I love you. I can't help it. The more I make you happy, the more I want to do things for you."
Sherri nodded, frowning, in the darkness. Her belly tingled inside-a residue of sensation from Betty's just-finished tongue-job on her clitoris.
Betty patted Sherri's mound. "Want me to do it again?"
"Umm. Maybe later. Right now I wish you were male and hung like a horse."
"Want a cucumber again?"
"I want about ten inches of hard, hot cock!" Sherri was talking crudely, to alienate Betty, to tell the girl her sexual preferences. "I need a man."
"I can be a man for you." Betty cuddled closer, as if to deny the direction of Sherri's words. She put her arm across Sherri's waist. "I went to the store yesterday and bought the biggest, longest cucumber they had."
Sherri laughed. "That's sweet."
"Want me to get it?"
Sherri consulted her body. That short, turn-on visit with Bruce had started an itch in her belly that Betty's magic tongue couldn't satisfy. Sherri was aware of the whole length of her vagina, and of a funny aching need way up at the end. "Yes ... go heat it up."
When Betty had left the bedroom, Sherri whispered to herself, "Perverted . . . Holy banana, am I ever perverted!" She stretched and sighed. After Betty had cucumber-fucked her .. . Sherri giggled ... she would say to the lovesick girl what she had to say. But for now-enjoy!
Betty returned after a while with the cucumber and the jar of vaseline. She handed the long dark object to Sherri. "This is it."
The neighbors had their patio lights on. Enough light sifted into the bedroom from the shade-drawn windows for Sherri to see well in the dimness. She took the warm, heavy, tubular vegetable and pressed it between her breasts. It radiated heat into her chest. It was almost hot.
Betty asked anxiously, "Is it too big?"
It was long and gently curved, thicker at one end than at the other. That one end was bigger than the thickness of the one from last week.
Sherri pushed her breasts over its length. Its warmth permeated her flesh. She wondered what it would be like to have a man-Bruce!-fuck her between the breasts, in their softness. A little vaseline. ...
Sherri said, "Hold onto the big end and it'll be okay." She was excited now. A fluttering anticipation was in her belly ... a kind of delicious fear. This one was a lot longer than the other one.
Betty took the cucumber. She coated three-quart-
ers of it with the lubricant.
Sherri slowly raised her knees and let them fall open. She locked her fingers under her head.
"Go ahead."
Betty got comfortable. She kissed Sherri's inner thigh. She opened Sherri's moist vulva with her thumb and forefinger and nosed the blunt end of the cucumber against the yielding ring of muscles that formed the entrance of the vagina. She began a slow pressure, a twisting, screwing motion.
Sherri watched. She felt herself being forced open, wider ... wider ... stretched! Shit, that thing is big! It was too much! But it went into her. She felt the heat and the massive bulk of it sliding up into her belly, gliding slowly, inch by inch, as Betty continued to apply that screwing push.
Sherri felt engorged! And still Betty worked the thick cucumber further and further into her!
Sherri's cervix began jumping, spasming open and shut as the smooth, rounded end of the cucumber pressed against it. She gasped at the sensation. Weird sparkles of half-pain.
Betty didn't stop! She twisted and pushed more into the distended, dilated opening. She was totally absorbed in her task. Sherri felt totally invaded. Her belly was stretched, full! It felt like a warm log had entered her. Pain lurked on the boundaries of her impalement. The nose of the thick, curved vegetable was now past her cervix, stretching the pliant walls of her vagina to their limits.
A flare of pain went through Sherri's belly. She gasped, "That's enough! That's the fucking limit!"
Betty said, awed, "I got almost all of it in you!"
"Now pull most of it out. Fuck me gentle, fuck me long." Sherri relaxed as the extreme depth and fullness receded.
Betty slid the cucumber slowly in again, then back ... in ... back....
Sherri loved the sensation of size coming and going in her belly. She dreamed of taking that horsecock of Bruce's.
Time passed. A very gradual excitement built in her, in her belly and thighs. Betty patiently worked the cucumber in steady plunges.
Sherri still had her fingers locked under her head on the pillow. She started to undulate her hips. She had hours to make it this time. No time
limit. Enjoy it to the hilt____She smiled and
breathed a bit faster. She wished she had somebody else in bed to kiss and to have play with her warm breasts and hard nipples. The penetration was tantalizing her now, deep and slow, deep and slow. Her body wanted it faster! She writhed gently. A funny hot tension was tightening in her guts. God, if a man could last this long and be this controlled! Sherri sighed with growing lust. She moaned.
"Want me to do it faster?"
"No! Just like this, no matter ivhat!" Sherri was trying something new. Her pleasure mounted as if a drop of sensation were added with each slow plunge of the cucumber.
She wished she were tied up, spread-eagled, to add to the slow, inevitable, waiting, the sweet helplessness she felt. Oh, it was so beautiful, growing in her, imperceptibly more powerful,
more breathtaking, more all-enveloping, a heaven of creeping, intensifying pleasure, stronger and stronger ... no limit... no limit....
Sherri writhed as her orgasm overflowed in her, not like a bursting dam, but like a tide ... she moaned and panted and squirmed ... and all the while Betty kept up the slow, precise thrusts.
The climax lasted and lasted ... she was on a sweet, panting, glowing plateau of ecstasy.
Finally, the pleasure melted away and she was left with the feeling of a dead, cold thing moving in her belly.
Sherri said, "That's enough. Take it out."
Betty obeyed. She moved up and hugged Sherri. "I'm so glad you liked it." She kissed Sherri on the mouth.
Sherri did not respond. She disliked the way Betty's slim, childlike body glued to her own.
Betty sensed the inner withdrawal. "Want me to go down on you again?" She was pathetically eager to please, to be important to Sherri, to be loved. Betty whispered passionately, "I love you." And to Sherri the words were an invisible rope looped around her, tightening, tying her to Betty.
Sherri said, "I think we should ... sort of cool it after this, after tonight."
"What do you mean?"
"You know ... not see so much of each other." "But I love you!"
"I can't help that. And that's what I mean-you 'love' me, and you keep mooning around me at school! All the kids are talking! You're so obvious, Betty!"
"I can't help it." Betty was hurt. She clung desperately to Sherri. She took a nipple into her
mouth and suckled like a hungry infant.
Sherri pushed her away. "This has just got to end! I mean it, Betty! I'm not a lesbian! You are but I'm not! I like men."
"A man can't do it as well as I can."
"Some can. Believe me. And I need live, hard cock in me, not some warmed-up cucumber!"
Betty began to cry. She huddled forlornly against Sherri.
Sherri was sorry for her and felt guilty and this drove her to say: "You know why I came so many times tonight? It wasn't because your tongue is so great, kiddo, it was because I was up in the projection room with Bruce-with your boss-and I got so damned horny up there playing with his cock. ... Do you know he's got about ten inches? He's built like a horse-like that damned cucumber!"
"Mr. Wyshak?"
"I don't know his last name. Bruce. I sucked him off tonight. Wow, what a mouthful, in more ways than one!"
"He's married! You shouldn't-"
"So what? I don't want to marry him. I just want him to fuck me with that big, hard cock once in a while."
"You're awful!" Betty recoiled.
"I guess I am. I guess I really am."
EIGHT
Ann was nervous as she sat in the office. She felt shabby in her twelve-ninety-eight dress.
Varga sat at ease in the straightbacked chair. "To see you I came, Mrs. Wyshak, because we have a misunderstanding, it seems. Yes? We talk together and come to minds." He took out a gold cig-aret case, a gold butane lighter. He offered.
Ann declined. "You go ahead, though."
As he lit up, Varga studied Ann. "Is it the many, many men, all kinds of men, who would come in to see the movies? Would they frighten you?"
"Oh, I'm not afraid of men. But, then, I see so few real men...."
"Ah, yes, so many are of the gay world. But we will run only straight films here. I am glad you
are not worried about the men, for you see, I have in mind a contract for you, too, as ticket girl and seller of the sweets. You are attractive ..."
"The men who would be attracted to the movies -they'd be sex-hungry, wouldn't they?"
Varga smiled. He said shrewdly, "Of course. Big, strong men with strong impulses." He spoke firmly. "They would look at you. We would require that you wear a low-cut uniform." He smiled and let his eyes wander her body.
Ann tightened her thighs. She felt a heat in her cheeks. "Am I still attractive enough?"
Varga nodded. "We could offer you a good salary. Combined with what Mr. Wyshak would make -a handsome sum."
"Bruce ..." Ann shook her head. "He's so weak-willed. So spineless. The reason I objected to selling ... well, he is so easily persuaded."
"You are the strength here, yes."
"All his life with me he's been a beggar. He-" Ann stopped herself. "What... what are the plots like in your movies?"
Varga made a grabbing motion with his hands. "Rape! Debasement! A woman's degradation!"
Ann's eyes shone. She looked quickly away. She took off her glasses and cleaned the lenses with a tissue. Her inner thighs were trembling. She wouldn't let herself recognize the itch between her legs.
She said, "I'll think over your offer. It is very attractive."
Sherri smiled coolly at Betty as Phil Jenkins bought the tickets. She stood well away from the
booth. She ignored Betty's desperate, appealing look. She went arm-in-arm with him into the Jefferson.
In the lobby Sherri said, "Let's sit downstairs tonight. I don't feel like making that flesh pit upstairs this time."
Phil said, "Shit, why didn't you tell me that before?"
She lowered her voice and leaned close. "Oh, don't worry, you'll get your rocks off-I'll take care of you when we go home."
"Yeah? Okay."
They went into the auditorium and found good seats.
About half an hour through the first feature, Sherri whispered, "Have to go to the little girls' room."
She went up to the balcony, to the projection booth and found the door invitingly ajar. She went inside, closing the door.
Bruce was just making the switchover. He was peering at the screen, turning on the other projector as the scene ended on the empty reel of the working projector. Switches clicked loudly. He checked the focus and turned to unload the first projector. He noticed her. He smiled and said inanely, "It's early." '
Sherri kept away as he loaded and threaded another reel on the just-stopped projector. "I can't stay long." She gazed hotly at him. She toyed with the cloth belt of her hotpants. A familiar, funny warmth was in her belly.
Bruce finished his preparations for the' next switchover. His penis was swelling, surgingdown his pantleg in quick erection. His thoughts had been
full of her sucking him off. It was virtually all he could think of. Now-now, by God, he was going to fuck her! He turned. "I trust you now, Sherri." He held his arms open.
She stepped close and his arms enclosed her. So corny, she thought fleetingly, but she liked it. And she liked his kiss when his mouth took hers.
One of his hands slipped down her back and spread strong fingers on her rump. He pulled her tight against his loins. She mewed in the kiss as she felt the heat of his huge erection against her thigh. She pushed against it, centered her vulva on it.
Bruce swayed with the sudden, aching need in his body. He was almost dizzy. Sherri's young, sweet mouth was almost as lush and seductive as Linda's.
He asked breathlessly, huskily, "You want to do it now?"
"Yes, if I'm going to get fucked. That's why I'm here."
"I have a blanket...." He reluctantly left her and took an old, but clean, quilt from a shelf. He unfolded it and spread it on the floor.
Sherri was already stepping out of her navy-and-powder-blue hotpants. She sat on the quilt and pulled up her loose blue top. Her big, fleshy breasts swung free with the up movement of her arms. The nipples were stiff red buttons. When she had freed her head of the shirt she saw Bruce pushing down his opened pants.
His thick, immensely long cock had stretched the elastic of his brief's left leg band. As his pants cleared the end, it lifted ponderously away from his thigh, but not far .. . its weight and size too
much for his pounding blood to lift. It jerked rhythmically, waving, with the fast pumping of his heart.
Sherri couldn't take her eyes from it. She skinned down her panties and tossed them at his cock, saying impishly, "God, what a cucumber!" She giggled and lay on her back. The floor was hard, even with the quilt. "Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me... ."
Bruce went to his knees between her wide-spread thighs. His cock felt heavy and itchy and glowing. A drop of clear secretion hung at the tip. He noticed her pink-lipped slit was glistening with her own lubrication. But she was so young! Such a long-legged, coltish girl! Such a sunken belly, bony hips, narrow waist. Her breasts were big, yes, but her face-so childlike, so wide-eyed and . .. lecherous!
He took her sweet, warm, soft mouth again. He hovered over her on hands and knees, his cock brushing between her thighs, nudging her slit with its insistent throbbing.
Sherri reached down and grasped it with both hands. She pumped it very slowly . . . like milking an enormous, stiff teat. And she felt a drop of fluid on her thigh. She was hot! Ready! She tongued with Bruce and burned to have him fuck her. She rubbed the large, silky glans into her wet slit and grazed it against her expanded clitoris. She tore her mouth free. "God . . . Bruce . .. fuck me!" She raised her knees invitingly, using both hands to hold the long shaft of his cock onto position. She whispered, "Now...."
Bruce didn't want to hurt her. Just a kid! He knew he shouldn't be messing with her-no way!
But he couldn't stop himself. He pressed forward . .. felt his glans meet yielding resistance-and go in! Jesus-like Linda! A fist of hot jelly! He groaned and mindlessly thrust deeper and deeper! "Ohhh, Christ!" Deeper____
Sherri felt the giant presence in her belly, sweeping up and in ... the log, hot and good. She gasped and sighed and cupped her trembling hands around his hanging balls. Then her hands were forced away by his lowering, closing loins, as more and more of his monster entered her, penetrated, stretched her. She was aware of him asking, "Hurt?" She shook her head. She felt weird-like a decorative cover, a warm, flesh cover for his giant cock, something he could wear around town. That was her function....
Bruce drew back and began the golden fuck. Long, sweeping thrusts. Still holding himself off her, on knees and elbows now, the softness of her breasts flattening up against his chest as he breathed fast, as she breathed fast.... He gazed down into her blue eyes, into the swimming depths of her enlarged pupils and took her sweet mouth again briefly, screwing up into her another inch ... another golden inch of pressure and pleasure, into a fluttering of tight, hot, jellied flesh.
Bruce sucked open-mouthed for air. His loins worked smoothly, driving, sinking, withdrawing, plunging.... He almost couldn't believe she was taking him.... He had to pant, "Like it? Too much?"
Sherri smiled, panting, "/ like it . . . too much!" She dug fingers into his back. "I love it!"
Golden words to him. He drank them into his soul. If only Ann- He fucked faster, impelled by
the gathering, coiling tension of pleasure. /
should have had this when I was young .. . in my teens, in my twenties, in my thirties....
He could not resist the seductively deep lure of her cunt!" He plunged in-in to the hilt! In till his pubes were smacking hers, till his balls were swinging like clappers against the crack in her ass!
Sherri's arms tightened on his back and she began to wail, "Yes . .. oh, God, yes, pour it in! FUCK! FUCK ME! OH GOD! OH, BRUCE, I'M COMINGGGGG! ..." She bucked and thrashed. Her pretty little-girl face was a contorted, tortured mask, and she was a mad thing under him, panting, wriggling, jerking to his gigantic impalements.
Bruce was suffused with glory! He gasped and thrust insanely, his entire being centered in his cock ... in climax-NOW! JOLTING INTO HER! NOW! NOW! "JESUS!" NOW! NOW! NOW! "OHHH!" The universe exploded! Gushes of stars left his body! Golden hot sensation!
And then the glory was going, leaving, dropping him into the projection booth again, into his weakening body, into his numbed brain. He rested, breathing deeply, on Sherri. His cock was a softening snake of flesh in her belly, sliding minutely in a soft, warm tunnel.
Sherri held him. "Wow . . . ivow . . . out of sight! .. ."
A depression settled into Bruce. All those years wasted . . . and it was her-Ann-who cheated me. . . .
A moment later Sherri stirred under him. "Hey, I ... I hate to fuck and run...."
Bruce sat up, back on his heels, his cock sliding out of her, wet and slimy.
Four minutes later Sherri eased into her seat next to Phil Jenkins.
He whispered angrily, "Where the hell you been?"
"Talking to a friend."
"You missed the good part."
"Did I?"
"Hey, Max, you're going through the changes, you know?" Ben slumped low in the passenger's seat next to Max as they left the drive-in after the last show.
In the back seat Jenny was just finishing sucking off Howie ... for the second time. Howie gritted, "Now-faster!"
She had sucked them all off at least twice during the long double feature.
Max said to Ben, "Fuck you!" He drove too fast through the exit gate and narrowly missed another car.
"Hey-no, I mean it. Your head isn't on straight anymore. Shit, you're skipping school half the time, you get drunk all the time...."
"So what do you care?"
"So ... can we help you some way? What's eating you?"
"None of your fuckin' business!"
Max dropped the guys off at their homes, and spent another ten minutes with Jenny, his hands on her head, guiding her mouth, pushing, thrusting up, jamming his cock into her throat. Finally he spurted and was unmoved by her strangling
sounds. She ran crying from the car when he let her go.
Max drove home. When he drove up to the house he saw a new Pinto in the driveway. Shit! Was she "entertaining" again? It was past two a.m. Or had some stupid shit of a factory worker parked in there? Either way-
Feeling deadly and vicious, Max parked some distance away and boiled as he walked back. When he reached the house he went up to the Pinto and used his pocket knife to gouge big letters on the doors: "SHIT" and "FUCK."
He checked the house. Dark. Silent. He got out his key and entered quietly. He heard them. Something hot and cold and sick formed in his gut. He took off his shoes in the living room and crept into the hall. Bed squeaking .. . heavy, double breathing, short, panted words... .
Max's breathing was harsh to his ears. He wanted to puke. Why does she do this to me? His mother was a cunt! They were all cunts! Why did he wish she was different? She was a walking, talking bag of shit with a nice gooey hole made for cocks. That's all! He was shaking as he opened her bedroom door and pushed it wide open.
Max's eyes narrowed and his throat closed up. A fat, white, sluglike man was fucking her. The man's big ass was rising and falling between Eva's heavy white thighs.
Max heard her whisper imploringly, "Can't you get in any deeper?" He saw her strain up against the man's flabby gut. Her big fleshy breasts wobbled on the sides of her chest. The man grunted as he slapped into her. "Better?"
"Umm . . . umm. ..."
Max saw his mother's hand roam the man's fatty, quivering back. Then her hand slid down onto his flexing, globular buttocks.
Max tasted sourness from his roiling stomach. She whispered, panting, "/ think I'm going to come ... I am! ... Uh! Nail me! Nail me!"
The man humped faster. Eva pulled him down, urging him to go faster, then her finger jabbed into his anus, and worked in and out. She moaned and shuddered. "Lovely! Don't stop!" The man kept on slapping down on her. It was a wet sound, composed of sweat and juices.
Max had sunk into a partial crouch without knowing it. He gasped, open-mouthed, watching his mother. There was cold perspiration on his face and on his body, making his clothes feel clammy.
Eva stopped fingering the man's anus. She patted him on one buttock. "Did you make it, Sam?" The man grunted no.
"Come up on me. I'll finish you ivith my mouth."
Max went tight. His body strained against itself. Something tore in his mind. My mother sucks! My mother! MOTHER! MOTHER! His locked muscles vibrated.
The man straddled Eva's hips and moved up over her body. She bunched a pillow under her head and reached for his approaching penis.
An indrawn sob of rage and shattered love came from Max. He came forward into the dark room like a panther and sank his young, powerful fingers into the pudding fat of the man's neck pulling the heavy man from Eva and toppling him off the bed to the floor.
The house shook with the sodden impact. The
man wheezed and croaked with surprise and shock.
Eva was suddenly sitting up, eyes like wild things, clutching for a sheet, her huge pale, sagging breasts joggling against themselves. She choked on a scream. She scrambled for the lamp beside the bed.
Max was berserk! He kicked viciously at the white, cringing man. The toe of his boot sank into the fat. Max was crying and wasn't aware of it. He went to his knees and began slugging at the man with hammerlike blows of his fists.
The bedside light came on. Eva sprawled to the edge of the bed to see. "MAX! Oh, my God-"
Max squinted against the flare of bright yellow light and sobbed inarticulately as he sank blow after blow into the quivering hulk before him.
"MAX, STOP IT!" Eva scrambled from the bed and tried to pull Max away. "He's a friend-"
Max smashed at the man's face. He glimpsed a terrified rolling of eyes, a gaping, grunting mouth, and then there was impact as his fist struck, there was the sweet satisfaction of give.
Eva screamed, "YOU'RE KILLING HIM!" She grabbed handfuls of Max's long hair and pulled with all her strength, yanking Max off balance, backward. Suddenly, he was on his back, looking up through a flood of tears past his mother's huge, wobbling breasts to her distraught face.
He rolled away, away from her and the man. He got to his feet and lurched from the room. He went to his room and slammed the door. He fell to his knees beside his bed and buried his face in his crossed arms on the bed.
Ann smoothed the material of her pajamas as she slipped carefully into bed beside Bruce. She was relieved that he wasn't making an obscene spectacle of himself or begging her to masturbate him. He seemed very quiet and ... pacified. Ann felt vaguely cheated. He really was a worm!
She said, "I've been thinking that jnaybe it ivould be a good idea to sell to Mr. Varga and his corporation."
"That's a switch."
"Well, we talked. He came and talked to me. And he suggested I could work in the theater, too, selling tickets and selling candy and pop."
Bruce put down his copy of the evening newspaper. He frowned at her. He was thinking of not selling, now. He'd lose his voyeur's show every night. He might lose visits by Sherri ... and he'd lose-others. There might be other sexy young girls who would like to take on a nine inch cock! The ice was broken now. . . . His mind cast up visions of an unending supply of nubile, willing high school girls.
Ann was saying, ".. . low cut, but I wouldn't mind."
"I've been-I talked to the city attorney about it today, on the phone. There probably would be arrests. We'd be the ones arrested, too. We'd be the ones who were fined or sent to jail. A corporation can't be put in jail."
Ann firmed her mouth. "But all that money...."
"Well... let's think about it some more."
NINE
Bruce was seated on the blanket on the floor of the projection booth, his back to the wall, his pants and underpants bunched at his ankles.
Sherri was sitting on his thighs, looking down at his monster cock as it throbbed against her flat belly. She handled it with both hands and said, smiling, "Sitting on this mother is going to rearrange my insides."
"They've been rearranged before, recently." Bruce liked the feeling of having his hard, naked cock rubbed gently against her skin, and played with by her hands. But he also wanted her to raise up and take him . . . sink down on it drive it up into her guts. . ..
He in turn played with Sherri's low-slung
breasts. Beautiful flesh, so full and warm and unmarked by stretching. Her striped blouse hung wide open. He caught both swollen nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. He rolled the big reddish-pink buttons.
Sherri said, "That. . . helps turn me on."
Bruce said, "There's something I want to try." He was unsure of himself. If you've got nine inches, why bother with sophisticated techniques?
Sherri cocked an eyebrow. "I can't take this brute up my ass."
"No..." He laughed. "Would you like me to try-I guess it's called 'going down' on you?" Unaccountably, he felt himself blushing.
"Sure!" Sherri lifted her rump off his thighs. She took her hands from his cock. "Just scoot down under me till your mouth meets my pussy."
Bruce obeyed. This position satisfied something in his psyche ... to be subservient, to be sat upon by a lovely young woman ... He slid under her. She was naked from the waist down, and her blouse was wide open from the waist up. Her loins were close-inches from his face. A blonde fuzz; attractive, silky curls; and slender, perfect thighs loomed on either side, their taut muscles and smooth, flawless skin were like ivory columns, a prison closing around his head. And the center of this world-her pink-lipped slit, moist, the lips working, opening and closing slightly as she edged still closer, her buttocks soft-heavy pillows on his chest.
Above, her breasts swooping out from her chest like huge white tropical fruit... like smooth gourds ... and her face, smiling down ... her long straight blonde hair swaying over his eyes....
Bruce inhaled her aroma -t h e scent of an aroused woman, with a faint perfume . .. powder, perhaps.
Sherri's hands dug under his head and lifted- his mouth was pressed to her slit. "Okay, Bruce, eat me...."
Awkwardly, but willing, he stuck his tongue between the lips-into a wet, acidy taste that stung the sides of his tongue. He started to lick upward, up to the oval swelling that was sticking out of her inner lips, at the top. He lapped like a dog as her hands locked under his head and held his face tight against her loins. He had to breathe through the tickling screen of her fine blonde pubic hair.
"Ohhh . . . that's nice."
His tongue was aching at the root. His jaw muscles were tiring, but he kept licking into her, sliding his tongue over that swollen little bump he knew was her clitoris.
Sherri began to tremble. She began to rock her pelvis "Wow . . . Bruce . . . keep doing that."
He freed his arms and reached up to caress her back. He looked up past her moving, looming breasts, to her concentrated, agonized expression. Her hands pulled his face even tighter against her flushed vulva. His face was wet with her juices and his own intermingled saliva. She was dripping onto his throat, smearing his upper chest. Sherri hunched over him, using him, fucking against his spearing, licking tongue. She was sobbing with pleasure, grimacing, staring with unfocused eyes.
Getting enough air was difficult. He had forgotten his own lust-his cock lay limp and flaccid across his left thigh.
Sherri gasped, "Oh God, this is a good one She pressed against his mouth in a continuous writhing. Her slit was puffed, gaping, slippery. Her clitoris was a pink thumb.
Bruce whipped that vibrant organ with his aching tongue. He wanted this to end! He needed air! His lungs were almost burning.
Sherri went crazy against his face. She rocked his head with her coital moves, and held his head smotheringly tight with suddenly incredibly strong arms. Then she shuddered and shuddered and went loose over him. She let his head go.
Bruce took deep, greedy lungfuls of air. His chest lifted her.
Sherri seemed to come awake from a drugged state. She smiled and lifted off his chest and neck. "That was out of sight. Wow, when I come like that my mind fractures."
Bruce wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I did all right, I guess."
Sherri grinned. She flipped her long hair back over her shoulders. She turned and saw his cock. "I "know what that needs!" She grasped the soft length, bent over, and stuffed it all into her mouth.
Bruce inhaled, hissing, at the sensation of warm, wet, active engulfment. It was a delicious feeling that he knew could not last-his cock was responding, growing... .
Sherri strained, stubbornly, to contain all of the swelling, lengthening, yeastlike penis. But her mouth was widened by the thickening shaft," and her lips slowly yielded, inch by inch.
Bruce checked the whirring projector with his eyes. He still had ten minutes before switchover.
Sherri began swooping her mouth up and down, taking his cock as deeply as she could, sliding her tongue in sensual moves along the length, and skillfully sucking his glans for magic seconds at the top of her swooping clinging effort. She pushed his legs apart enough to get her left hand in to cup his balls. She warmed them and massaged them with gently moving fingers.
He was fully rigid now, throbbing, loving the pleasure of her mouth and tongue. He watched her. So goddamned young! So willing! Christ, am I lucky! And the pang of all those wasted, empty years returned to torment him.
Sherri lifted her mouth from the end of his cock. "Getting close?" She used her other hand to pump him.
Bruce nodded.
She flipped her hair away again and bent to suck him again, closing her eyes. Her full lips slipped sweetly down over his glans, her hands were busy. ...
Bruce watched in wonder. Fifteen years old! And a whole balcony full of other teen-aged girls who did the same things. . . . Christ, if I were only eighteen again. He began to moan with the pleasure. There was no stopping the climax that was coalescing in his loins as he watched her engorged mouth take him ... up and down ... up and down . . . and felt her sweet, maddening tongue swirl and dart against his glans. . . .
The projector-the booth -t h e floor-everything faded as the agony of pleasure burned in his mind and body. He panted and cried out. His eyes glazed as he stared, his hips jerking, as Sherri took the spurting flood of his semen. The sensation was
acute! He keened and twisted and balled his fists.
She pumped and sucked feverishly, generously, as he came. Semen ran down out of her working mouth, onto her pumping'hand, into the thick, wiry curls at the base of his jerking cock. When she lifted her lips from his too-sensitive glans, he was drained. She licked her lips and smiled. "You saved all that for me."
He nodded. He had to ask, "Doesn't swallowing that stuff... doesn't it turn you off?"
"No. That's a hang-up I don't have." She grinned and licked her fingers. "I've heard it's good for a girl-good for the skin or something."
"I wish I was young enough to marry you."
Sherri cocked her head. "You know ... I kinda wish you were, too."
"But I'm too old."
"Not too old for this ... but yeah, too old for me to think about marrying!" She patted his softening cock. "Don't worry, I dig this hunk of meat... and your tongue. I'll be a regular visitor."
Bruce pulled up his briefs and pants as Sherri began to dress. "When will you be back?"
"Whenever I get a yen. I don't know. I'd appreciate another couple of free passes, though. It's a bug having to pay my way in here."
Bruce took some passes from his shirt pocket. "I almost forgot."
A few minutes later, Sherri coolly let herself out of the projection booth. Hardly anyone in the darkened upper balcony noticed.
When she emerged out into the lobby she saw Betty talking to a young man in an ill-fitting
black suit. He had taken her pass earlier. He took tickets and served behind the candy-popcorn-soft-drink counter. She had never seen him before.
Betty smiled too hungrily. "Hi, Sherri. Going home? Mind if I walk along with you for a couple blocks?" She turned away from the counter, leaving her cash box. "Goodnight, Mr. Cantfield."
Sherri ignored Betty. But Betty followed her out. "Sherri? Sherri!"
Sherri stopped outside the theater doors. "What?"
Betty begged with her eyes. "What's the matter? Don't you ever want to see me again? Don't you want to be friends at all?"
"No. Now don't chase after me!"
"I want to talk to you! I love you!"
"I don't want you to love me! Now leave me alone!" Sherri walked away.
Betty followed. "Please. Don't be mad at me. I'll be careful and I won't embarrass you." Betty touched Sherri's hand.
Sherri jerked her hand away. "Get away from me!"
Betty began to cry. She followed closely. "Please, Sherry ..."
Sherri stopped again. "LEAVE ME ALONE! DAMN YOU ... YOU STUPID QUEER!" Sherri's words seemed to echo along the silent street.
Betty sobbed, "I don't care what you call me. I want you ... I want to make you happy again. That's all I ask. You enjoy it. You know you do."
Sherri walked away.
"If you won't be friends I'll tell Mrs. Wyshak what you and Mr. Wyshak do up in the projection booth!"
"Go ahead. I don't care."
"I will! I'm warning you!" Betty was following close again.
Sherri stopped abruptly. She turned and slapped Betty as hard as she could.
Betty gasped and staggered. Her eyes were wide, shocked, wet with tears.
Sherri said cruelly, "Do you get my message?"
"Yes." Betty lowered her head. "I'm going to tell!"
"Tell her you're a cunt-licking dyke while you're at it!" Sherri walked away again ... and Betty did not follow.
Twenty minutes later, Max strode into the Jefferson. His eyes took in the office door, the guy in the black suit behind the candy case.
"Sorry, closed."
"Where's the woman ... the lady who's usually here?"
"Oh, Mrs. Wyshak fell and sprained her ankle this afternoon. I'm filling in for a few days."
"Her husband up in the film room up there?"
"Yes. You want to see him?"
"No." Max smiled and dissembled. "It'll wait. I don't want to bother him." He left the theater, stopping at a service station to look up the Wy-shaks in the phone book. He drove to their house, parked nearby and sat watching the front windows. There was a light on inside. He gripped the steering wheel with clammy, sweaty hands. He whispered, "Cunt! Nothing but a cunt____" He swallowed repeatedly.
Getting out of his car, he went up the walk to the
porch and knocked on the door. His stomach was queasy.
After a moment he heard Ann's voice from inside. "Who is it?"
"Your boyfriend." He grinned sarcastically to himself.
"Oh, no!" She unlocked the door and*opened it an inch to peer out at him. "Go away! Not here!"
Max pushed the door open. She lurched backward, limping severely. Her right ankle was tightly bound. She was in green polka dot pajamas and a peachcolored chenille robe. Her hand went to her mouth. "No, please not here! Go away!" Her eyes were frightened but soft and vague without her thick-lensed, ornately framed glasses.
"Relax, Mrs. Wyshak. I'm not here to fuck you."
Was there a shade of disappointment in her relieved expression? "Why-?"
"You're going to suck me off." He watched her face-hei- familiar face-as her pupils enlarged and her head waggled from side to side. He slammed the door shut and advanced on her. Shit, already his cock was getting hard!
"Oh, no ... I couldn't..
"You've got a mouth!" He backed her up against a chair. She winced with each step.
"/-/ can't! I've never done that." She sat down abruptly.
Max took a wide, dominating stance before her, he pulled his belt open and unsnapped his jeans. He unzipped and let the big white bulge of his enclosed cock show. "Pull it out!"
"No!" She stared at his front, cringing back in the chair.
"We have to go through the scene, is that it?"
He reached down and grabbed her robe and pulled her forward. He rocked her with a backhanded slap.
Her head snapped back and to the right. Her eyes flared with shock. She gasped, panted with fear. "Oh, please, no, don't hit me again."
Max was breathing heavily. There was a seething warmth in his cock as he crouched and yanked her robe open. Then he took a two-handed grip in the flimsy cotton of her pajama top and ripped it open. Small green buttons flew. Her small, flabby breasts were exposed. The nipples were like red cherry pits. Her pale chest pumped unevenly. Her mouth hung open as she gazed up at him. She dug fingers into the overstuffed arm of the green brocade-covered chair.
"You going to suck me off?"
"1-I-I-can't!"
Max hit her again, a full-handed slap with weight and power behind it. It cracked in the silence. Her head bounced against the back of the chair. Her left cheek flamed. His hand stung. He grabbed double handfuls of her brown hair. She was whimpering with pain, shock and fear as he pulled her face forward against his opened jeans, rubbing her face against his swollen white briefs.
He said fiercely, "Take it out and suck it, bitch!" He pushed her head away a few inches to give her small hands room to work, viciously twisting his grip on her hair.
Her fingers tugged at the opening, seeking to free his hard shaft. She was weeping. Her cheek was white-red with imprints from his big hand. As her fingers worked his large cock free, as it emerged in front of her eyes, all stiff and thick and long, jerking with the fast beat of his pulse, she
wailed, "Oh, God, please don't make me ..."
Max laughed lewdly. "You cunt! You dirty cunt!" He pulled her face against his cock and rubbed her nose and tightly closed mouth and cheeks and eyes and forehead against it.
Her hands fluttered in the air helplessly. She was afraid to resist now, afraid to struggle. The tears rolled down her cheeks. She whimpered, a nasal crying sound.
"Open your mouth, bitch! Open your fucking mouth!" He twisted his handfuls of her hair, pulling her head up and back. Her mouth was dragged open.
Max spat in her face. She shuddered.
"Suck me off or I'll beat the living shit out of you!" He pushed her head down and roughly positioned her mouth against the tip of his cock. He said viciously, "This is what you want, you cunt! You're going to be a cocksucker!" He pulled her face toward his loins.
Her mouth was closed, but the blunt glans of his cock was forcing her lips aside, parting, them, coming up against her closed teeth.
Max felt some of her hair pull out as he applied more power to his grip. "SUCK!"
She gasped with the intense pain in her scalp. She sobbed once-and his cock surged into her mouth. She struggled .. . but not as fiercely as she could have. She pushed and twisted ... but....
Max knew he had won. He held her easily. She was unable to pull back enough or turn her head enough to be free of the thick glans and inches of cock that were lodged in her mouth ... almost choking her!
"Now suck, you filthy old bag!" He pulled her tighter. She made uk uk sounds, her eyes rolling frantically.
He eased off. She began to suck, awkwardly, amateurishly. He believed she really hadn't ever done it before. Not like-"USE YOUR TONGUE, YOU STUPID CUNT!"
She tried but again-inexpertly. She sobbed brokenly around his meat.
Max glared down at her ... at the spread of her lips, at the thick white shaft that had invaded her mouth. He began fucking her mouth. At last he began to enjoy it, to get some pleasure. He liked mouth-fucking her, prodding back to her throat, getting that soft, spasming, tightening. He even enjoyed the strangling, gagging sounds and the ugly sucking-air noises she made. She deserved it!
Max felt her hands come to his wide-planted legs. Her small hands at first clutched his calves, tightened, relaxed, and then she began ... caressing his hard, well-developed thighs. Her eyes were closed. She was beginning to work with his thrusts into her mouth. Her tongue had learned....
"Oh, you bitch . .. you'd do anything for anybody! Any barfly .. . any drunk .. . suck anybody, fuck anybody ... Why not me? Why not me? Why not-AHHH!"
Max threw her away from himself. He staggered blindly, his face twisted. He lurched to the front door. He held his jeans up with one hand. He suddenly doubled over and vomited on the hardwood floor. For a frozen time he spewed acidy, stinking, half-digested bits of food and liquid. He looked around insanely, then pulled the door open and ran out into the night.
Bruce came home from the Jefferson an hour later. He found Ann very quiet and withdrawn.
There was a faint sour smell in the front room. He asked, "You spill something in here?"
"No ... It must be the liniment I used on my ankle." Ann switched off the one living room light which had been on by the window. "Let's go to bed. You must be tired."
Bruce noticed a softness in her manner and tone of voice. He decided to say what he had decided to say: "We're not selling the theater! And I don't want any argument from you on this!" He braced for a shrewish torrent of words.
But she nodded. "If that's what you want, Bruce."
He looked sharply at her.
Later, as he lay in bed, naked, reading the paper, he began to get an erection. Sherri's sucking him off earlier hadn't been enough. It was as if his natural sexual needs, so long insufficiently satisfied, were now flowing like a spring flood.
Ann was sitting at her powder table, applying cold cream to her face. She seemed to be staring at herself oddly.
Bruce flipped the covers away from his loins. He took his penis in his left hand and pumped it slowly. He started to phrase a humble plea to her. Then he stopped his mind. Fuck that begging shit! He said forcefully, "Come over here and jack me off!"
Ann's fingers stopped massaging her cheek. She met his gaze in the reflection of her mirror. She asked softly, "What if I don't?"
"God damnit, I'll pull down those pretty orange pajamas and beat your ass!" He meant it.
"This business of being too pure and clean to touch my dirty, dirty penis is going to stop! Either you act like a loving wife or you'll be treated like a ... a ... spoiled, disobedient brat and you'll get your ass spanked!"
Bruce liked the slow widening of her eyes.
Ann whispered; "You're changing!"
"Damn right! Lots of things are going to be changing around here! I'm sick and tired of being a never fucked mouse. From now on this cat is getting what he wants, for a change. And what he wants now is � good, slow, sexy jack-off."
Bruce gestured for her to come to the bed.
Ann started to wipe her hands on a tissue. Bruce said, "Leave that goop on. Bring the jar."
Ann obeyed. She said nothing more. She sat on the bed at his side and gently coated his huge penis with cold cream, clasped the slippery shaft in her hands and ran her gooey fingers and palms up and down its length.
Bruce enjoyed it. It was different and exciting. He wondered what else he could order her to do. Maybe tomorrow night he'd fuck her!
He whispered, "Hold it tighter!"
The pleasure increased. She pumped him slowly, unhurriedly. It was her idea to slip one hand up and rotate her slippery, cupped palm on his glans as her other hand continued moving up and down.
The pleasure increased. Bruce felt drugged by the sensation. He let his muscles go limp. He didn't fight the coming ecstasy. He let himself be swept along.... Nothing could stop the orgasm. Ann's grip was delightful, skilled, knowing. She speeded her arm and wrist movements.
Bruce let himself moan. A new freedom seemed
to be in him. He let his hips begin to move. He wasn't locked tight anymore. The pleasure increased! He groaned. His breath caught.
Ann jacked him faster! Her hand flailed up and down with smooth, natural action.
Bruce reached for Ann. He pulled her close and sought her mouth. She didn't stop pumping him. He was coming! Bruce kissed her. Her mouth was willing and yielding and warm. There was a slight taste of cold cream.
He shuddered in the kiss. His arm tightened around her waist. His massive penis jerked and spurted semen wildly. She continued pumping as she kissed him. Bruce was submerged in the sweet kiss, in the' violent waves of orgasmic sensation.
Her hand slowed ... and stopped. Their kiss ended. Bruce sighed. He touched her hair with his fingers. "You've changed."
"I suppose I have ... a little. If you want me to change more ... you'll have to-to force it." Ann sat up and took her wet, slippery, semen-covered hand from his penis. "I'll get a towel."
Bruce thoughtfully watched her go into the bathroom to wash her hands.
Max waited in the darkness of the kitchen. He was still slightly nauseous. He kept spitting evil-tasting saliva into the sink. He had come home and his mother had been gone. Out cruising. Letting herself be picked up! Ready to fuck . . . ready to suck! He cursed and checked the segment of street that was visible. Where was she?
He prowled the house. He went into her bedroom and stared at the bed. His chest tightened. He spot-
ted some chocolate on the small square bedside table and grabbed a soft handful, popping them one by one into his mouth.
He heard a car growl up the driveway. Bright headlights swept past the window. Max's guts knotted. He went to the window and he heard his mother's laugh-loose and drunken and sexy- muted by the car door and windows.
Max peered out. The car was a big 1964 Buick. He could see Eva in the front seat, in the darkness. She was kissing someone. He saw movement, heard low laughter, low talk, a man's voice ... saw her dress top being pawed open . .. saw the shadowed white swelling of her breasts ... saw a man's hand on them!
Max felt his cock hardening. He watched his mother enjoy the pawing, watched the man's mouth on her nipples. The man wore rimless glasses.
Max closed his eyes. His stomach hurt. He ran from the window, through the house to the kitchen door. He burst from the house and lunged off the low cement porch to the car. He glimpsed his mother's startled face. The man was just raising his head from her breasts as Max yanked open the door. He grabbed her bare arm and pulled her out and to her feet. Eva's loose, heavy breasts bobbed and swung half out of her unbuttoned dress. She had her bra clutched in one hand.
She gasped, "Max-don't hurt him!"
Max slammed the car door shut. He yelled at the man, "GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"
"My purse, my purse!" Eva held her dress closed with the hand that held her bra. She pointed at the front seat. Max yanked the door open
again, grabbed her large, black leather purse. He gave the frightened driver a venomous glare, slamming the door shut again.
The man exploded the motor to life and quickly backed the Buick down the driveway.
Max seized his mother again by the arm. "You bitch, get inside!" He shoved her toward the kitchen door porch.
Eva whimpered. "Maxie ... I'm sorry ..."
Inside, she started to go to the bedroom. Max followed, boiling inside, furious with her. He cuffed her head. "You're my mother, Goddamnit!"
Eva stumbled to her bed. "Oh, Maxie ..." Her head was swimming. She rolled onto her back, her dress again wide open, her breasts soft, white, rising-falling masses with dark, protruding nipple-centers. Her legs were wide, her dress rucked high on one thigh. Her purse and bra were on the floor where she had dropped them.
Max stood beside the bed, looking down at her, crying. "Why do you do it?"
She was just drunk enough to tell him the truth. "Lonely ... I need somebody to look at me and want me ... and it feels good, Maxie ... even for an old woman like me it feels so good...."
"Jesus, Mom-" He sat on the edge of the bed and was a little boy again. He pressed his face between her fleshy breasts. He wept.
"Oh, my boy ..." Eva began to cry, too. She put her arms around him. She hugged him tight and cradled his head. She was just drunk enough to have a moment of disorientation: for a moment she became confused-this was a big heavy man with his head between her naked breasts.... She whispered, "Honey ... suck my titties ..."
And Max was defenseless enough, open enough, regressed in that moment to near-infancy ... so that he obeyed. He sniffled and put a hand on a large, warm, soft breast and guided the thick nipple to his mouth. He suckled contentedly.
Eva sighed and stroked his head. "Ummm ..." She realized Max was sucking her nipple. "My little boy. My sweet, jealous little son----" .
He put his other hand on her other breast. He played with the nipple. It was big and rubbery. The raw impulses of Max's mind were taking over in a welter of lust, behind a wall of excuses and alibis and rationalizations and sophistries.
He knew he was fondling and suckling on his mother. No, it was Eva, a sexy bitch who wanted sex from anybody.... She didn't deserve special treatment as his mother.... He was testing her- this old cunt-to see how far she'd let him go.... If she was fucking and sucking every bar pick-up in town, why not him, too! He deserved it more than
any of the others____His mother was dead and this
fat drunk wasn't his mother anymore. His mother was a young, beautiful woman who had died ... in a bottle.
Eva stroked Max's back, tugged his shirt free and put her plump, warm hands on his skin. "Oh, my baby . .. you're sucking your mommy's titties so nice. ..."
He knew she was drunk. That angered him and lured him. He sucked and squeezed and did not fight the erection that was driving his cock up his belly in his jeans.
Eva said, "Baby, your buckle is hurting me." It was digging into her hip. "Your pants are so rough."
Max sat up. He unbuckled. He unsnapped. He unzipped. He watched her face ... watched her half-lidded, liquor-dulled eyes. He bent and pulled off his boots, pushing down his jeans and underpants.
A part of his mind was cold and calculating now. Hoiv far would she let it go? In spite of his emotional withdrawal, his heart was beating hard as he moved all the way onto the bed. He lay beside her, up on one elbow, his big naked cock pressing against her hip. He asked, "Is this better?"
"Umm." Eva felt his erection. Her impulse was to touch it, hold it, play with it. She frowned with inner conflict.
Deliberately, he watched every nuance of her reactions. With cool calculation, he played her the way an expert angler would play a fighting fish. It wasn't easy-his own passions were rising and threatening to engulf his senses-but he bit his lip and succeeded in keeping his cool.
His mouth came to her nipple again, and his hands. She enjoyed his sucking and fondling. It made her want more. This sort of caressing always did. She clenched and unclenched her hands.
She whispered, after long moments had passed, after she had begun to move restlessly under his mouth, "Maxie ... oh, Maxie ... I'm only
human ... I can't help getting hot----" and
wormed her left hand to his cock. She touched it tentatively with fingertips. It throbbed against her hip, a big, hard male organ ... powerful, eager, "OhKll. . . you, too, baby. You, too."
She wrapped her hand around it and the feel of its size made her breathless and quivery. She rolled to him, to face him with her body, breathing
fast. Her breasts had become firmer and rounder. They glowed.
She put her right hand on his hip as her right leg moved partly over his left leg at the knee. She was inviting him.
Max suddenly kissed her. The soft heat of her welcoming mouth was irresistible. She took his tongue. They both moaned. Her right hand urged him gently, unmistakably, to cover her. Her left hand rhythmically squeezed his rigid cock.
Max gasped, "Mother-"
"It's all right, Maxie. It's good. I ivaut you to do it."
Lust and gut-rage possessed him, then. "All right. I'll give it to you!" He pushed her over. He got between her thighs.
"No, Maxie-baby-i/of this way, not mad at me...." But she spread for him--her soft, fat white thighs moved wide apart.
Max probed blindly and found the slippery opening low in her wet vulva . . . and he sobbed as he thrust into her.
There was no stopping noiv! She was deep and hot and squeezing inside. The sensation took his breath away. She was milking his cock! He had never felt anything like it... not in a girl... and it was so good! He plunged all the way into her, fitting his loins as closely as possibly to hers. He was buried in his mother ... fucking his mother!
He didn't care! Her cunt was massaging his cock in some incredibly sensuous way he had never known could be!
Eva held him, felt his trembling, felt him so big and hard and young in her belly. She used her inside muscles on him. She was proud of this abil-
ity. She could really grip and work with them. It took practice, but she had had lots of practice. She was so glad she could do it for Max ... she had always had a yen for him, even if he was her son. That didn't seem to matter now. She ran her hands over his beautifully muscled back and buttocks and thighs. No, it didn't seem to matter....
Max began fucking her-slow, deep plunges. Her cunt tightened and rippled around his cock as he slid Li and out. He didn't last long. Not this first time, his lust whispered. But you'll get better. . . .
Within seconds he was pounding into her, into that hot, jellied, clutching, gripping wonderful cunt! His mother's cioit!
Max actually howled when he came. His brains seemed to melt. He fucked like a madman.
Eva was panting, jolted, rocked by his thrusts and by the shivery explosion of joy that seized her when Max went into orgasm. Her own climax was psychological, but just as satisfying.
When he had spent himself and lay quiet on the soft pillows of her breasts and belly, within her arms, she soothed him and petted him. "My baby . . . that ivas so nice . . . just relax . . . mother loves to hold you like this. ..."
He suddenly pulled away, off of her. He half fell off the bed in his haste. He made vomiting sounds in his throat, his hand pressed over his mouth as he ran for the bathroom.
Eva followed. She didn't bother to close her dress. She found him kneeling beside the toilet bowl, spitting a greenish-yellow bile, beingwracked by dry heaves.
Tears ran down his cheeks. He moaned, "Oh,
shit... oh, shit...." His breathing was fast and shallow.
Eva took a box of tissues from a shelf and used them to wipe his chin, his mouth, to wipe away his tears.
She said, "It wasn't a terrible thing. We both wanted it. For a long time."
Max broke down and wept in her arms.
Eva held him. She kept saying she thought what they had done was all right. "It's done now, honey. The world didn't end. We're still living. We'll keep on living."
She took him back to her bedroom and urged him down to the bed, on his back. She slipped off her dress and lay beside him.
When he had stopped crying and cursing, she said, "Honey, I'll be honest. I don't give a damn what the world calls it. The world doesn't have to know about it."
Max said nothing. He lay waiting.
"Maxie... I don't care. I want it to happen again."
He nodded. "Okay. Suck me."
She didn't move for a long moment. Then she silently, nakedly, moved down on the bed. She sent him a searching look, then lowered her head and scooped his soft cock into her mouth. Max went tight. Eva sucked with a slow, sensuous movement of mouth and tongue. She closed her eyes. She didn't mind the initial taste of his semen. She made joy sounds as his cock grew big in her mouth.
Max lay rigid, his body locked, while his mother sucked him off. He dug his fingers into the bedding and clutched tight, watching with burning eyes as she knelt between his stiff, spread legs
and moved her head up and down, up and down, while her mouth and tongue moved like the inside of her cunt had moved ... clinging, massaging, above all sucking... taking half his cock each time, leisurely, but with infinite, filthy skill!
He waited. He waited, and the pleasure gathered and concentrated like fire in honey. He began to shake.
She moved her head faster, not using her hands on him-only her sucking, clinging mouth!
He erupted! He groaned and then cried out in an agony that was more than pleasure.
As his mother sucked him dry-as she sival-lotved-Max's grip released from the blankets and he sat up and his clawed hands fastened on her throat and sank powerful, maniacal fingers into the flesh, squeezing, digging thumbs into, her windpipe.
His eyes were squinted with insane hate and tension, his lips drawn back in a silent snarl. His breath hissed.
Eva's chest heaved uselessly. Her eyes bulged, her face seemed to bloat and blotch with purple and white. Her tongue protruded, traces of his semen on it. Her arms seemed paralyzed. She managed to suck a horrible rasping trickle of air past his fingers and thumbs.
Max growled and put still more power into his grip. His arms and hands trembled with the effort as she began to convulse. Her body thrashed like that of an epileptic in a grand mal. But almost immediately the convulsions passed. Her expressionless, bloated face turned dark. Her body only twitched.
Max finally let go of her neck.
He went to the kitchen and took a bottle of pop from the refrigerator and drank it, breathing heavily.
When he had finished the bottle he went into the bathroom and got a razor. He sat in the cold, empty tub and carefully and thoroughly slashed his wrists.
TEN
Ann accepted the free pass at the candy counter in the lobby and recognized the tall, breasty blonde girl. No bra, skimpy skirt! Do-anything eyes! Why would Bruce give her a pass?
Ann watched the girl head for the balcony steps. When she turned her head back she saw Betty signaling her from the ticket booth. Ann limped across the lobby to the small rear door of the booth.
Betty was tight-lipped and half crying. "She- she's going up to see Mister Wyshak!" "That girl? Why?" "To do things ... for sex!" Ann whispered, "What?"
"She told me! She's been up therewith him
three or four times."
Ann experienced a chill all through her body. That overdeveloped child? That underage slut? Her mind quailed.
Ann managed to say calmly, "Thank you, Betty. I'll see about it," and went back to the candy counter. Her heart was racing and an icky sensation was in her stomach. She licked her lips and gripped the cold edge of the ice cream freezer. Am I any better?
After a few minutes Ann took three deep breaths and limped up the balcony stairs. Her mouth was dry and her stomach was in a turmoil as she approached the projection booth door in the darkened balcony. She searched the seats for the girl, scanning the clutching, groping young couples. The girl was not to be seen.
Ann did not hesitate an instant. When she reached the closed door she opened it-"Oh my God!"
There was Bruce, sitting on his stool, his pants open, hig huge penis rearing up-the girl, her blouse open, breasts swaying, bending over him, sucking him!
Brace's head jerked around. He pushed the girl away. She straightened, puzzled, and saw Ann.
No one said a thing. The projector whirred, the sound track fed into the muted monitor speaker.
Finally the girl smiled. "Wow. Confrontation."
Ann glared at her and entered the small room. "You little slut! Get out of here. Stay aivay from him!"
The girl shrugged, looking at Brace. He was watching Ann. He hadn't moved to cover his shrinking, exposed penis.
The girl started buttoning her blouse. She picked up her small purse from the floor beside the stool and walked past Ann to the open door. As she left, the girl said to Ann, "That's a very nice guy ... and a dreamy cock." Then she was gone.
Bruce stood up and did not turn away as he stuffed his now limp organ back into his pants and zipped up.
Ann whirled and left, too. She followed the girl down to the lobby. She called, "I'd like to talk to you for a minute-in the office."
The girl shrugged. "Sure."
Bruce was waiting for the storm to break. Ann hadn't mentioned what had happened earlier as they had closed up.
Now as he drove home he wondered what in hell she was waiting for as she sat silently, calmly, beside him.
She spoke when he turned off Foster Avenue. "Fooling with a girl that young is terribly dangerous."
"I know."
"After this I want you ... to come to me."
"That's nice of you, but a hand job isn't going to be enough anymore. I want a woman who wants me, sexually. And I want her for everything...." He said the words bluntly: "-for fucking and sucking." He half expected Ann to go into a tirade.
But yet he actually wasn't surprised when she said quietly, "I can understand that."
"Congratulations."
"Please, Bruce. Don't be sarcastic with me. This
is difficult."
"Yeah." He turned into their street, pulled into their driveway and stopped in the darkness of their garage. He shut off the engine.
Ann didn't get out.
Bruce asked, "Do you want a divorce?"
"No ... no." She bowed her head. "I want you to be my husband. I want you to be the ... the master of me ... so that I can respect you and love you."
"I can see I've been a blind fool."
"We both have." Ann opened the door and got out.
Bruce let her go in alone. He sat and thought for a while. Then he smiled wryly and said aloud to himself, "Better late than never. This is going to be interesting as hell." He locked the car, locked the garage, and went into the house.
There was an electrical tension between them as they prepared for bed. Bruce told Ann, "Start my shower!" He was going first.
When he stepped, dripping, from the stall she was waiting with a towel for him. She wore her pink silk robe.
He started to take the towel, then didn't. "You dry me!"
Ann lifted her chin. "Dry yourself!"
Bruce didn't hesitate. This was the first test. He had never hit her. Now he had to: She was asking him to. He almost held back. He almost pulled the impact of the roundhouse, open-palmed blow. But at the last instant he followed through with his arm and shoulder. His hand caught her a little below the left ear, along the jaw. The sound was like a pistol shot.
Ann's head twisted with the force of it. Her body
followed. She gasped and fell. The towel flew through the air. Her robe flapped open. Her glasses hung loose from her right ear as she hit heavily on the bathroom tiles. Her head nearly hit the side of the toilet.
Bruce kept himself from moving. He stood, wet, naked, his long penis and scrotum swaying between his wide-stanced legs.
Ann lay where she fell, staring up at him, her eyes and mouth wide with astonishment, shock, and . . . happiness? Bruce thought so. In any case, he was on this path and he was going through with it! If he had her figured wrong he'd end up with a divorce. He wasn't going to continue their marriage on the old terms, regardless.
He scowled down at her. "I'm not taking any back talk. Not any more! Now dry me!"
She made a small squeaking sound in her throat. She adjusted her glasses, crawled to the towel and unfolded it. She seemed dazed as she began drying his feet and then his legs.
"Be careful with my cock and balls." Bruce felt foolish, but at the same time he was enjoying it. This master role was fun.
When Ann reached his genitals she patted them delicately with the towel. He began to get an erection. She patted his lengthening cock, watching it. She was on her knees. She looked up at his face, wide-eyed, trembling.
"Kiss it!" He thrust his hips forward. The head of his cock wobbled before her mouth.
She darted her head forward and kissed it lightly.
Bruce wondered ... "You saw what Sherri was doing for me tonight. Now you do it!"
Ann's throat worked. "Bruce, please ..."
He drew his hand otft from his side in a striking position. She saw. He said harshly, "Suck ... it!"
She looked up in supplication. Her brown eyes were magnified by her glasses but he met her imploring gaze with a stony, inflexible expression. He waited, his cock sticking out like a pink and white club, purplish-knobbed at the end, jerking slightly with his quickened pulse.
Ann drew fast, shaky, open-mouthed breaths. Her trembling hands went to the back of his thighs. Her head came forward slowly. Her mouth opened wide. Her breathing was loud. Her eyes closed. She gave a whimpering cry of surrender and took his glans into her mouth.
Bruce stared down, narrow-eyed with surprise and lust. His cock felt hard as iron! Ann was sucking him! Not just passively holding his glans in her mouth-but actively sucking! He almost couldn't believe it! She was using her tongue!
She kept on ... and he realized she would keep sucking him, if he wished, until he shot off in her mouth.
What a change in her! And what a change in himself. Bruce was pleased. "Now finish drying me.
Five minutes later he lay on their bed, naked, waiting impatiently for her to finish her shower. He started playing with his hard cock, then stopped. Hell, he had a woman to do that for him now!
He heard the water stop in the bathroom. Ann emerged a few minutes later. Her robe was sashed tight around her short, plump body. She ivas not wearing pajamas.
Her eyes fastened on his erection as she came to the bed. She whispered, "Does my master tvish me naked?"
"Yes."
"Does my master tvish the light on?" "Yes."
She took off her robe and lay naked, on the bed. He knew it was a role she was playing-the slave. That was her hang-up. And he had to play the stern, ruthless master, to make it work.
Bruce turned to her and began caressing her small breasts. He took off her glasses and put them on the bedside table. He said, "I'm going to go down on you, then I'm going to fuck you."
"You'll hurt me, master. I'll probably struggle."
"No ..." He had an inspiration. "... you won't." He left the bed and quickly went to the closet. He took two of his belts and two old ties off the rack.
When he returned, Ann's eyes were big again. He tied her ankles to the small, ornate posts at the foot of the bed.
"Oh, master ..." Ann's eyes were dilated. Her most secret dream was about to come true!
He tied her wrists to the posts at the corners of the headboard, spreadeagled.
Ann tested the knots. She couldn't break free. Her eyes rolled. "Oh, God, Bruce ... don't do it to me. Let me loose."
"No chance. I'm your master, remember?" He eased his head and shoulders between her widespread legs. He tickled her vulva with his fingertip. He kissed far up her fleshy inner thigh.
"Don't-it's perverted! Let me go!"
"Shut up! Or I'll gag you. This is for real, Ann.
You're not the boss anymore!" He started licking at her vulva lips. He tasted evidence of her masked excitement immediately. Ann moaned and pulled desperately at her bonds. Bruce chuckled against her slit. He delved his tongue deep into her vulva and found a swollen little nodule. When he stroked it with his tongue, she gasped, and her plump hips lifted reflexively.
He asked, "Still a perversion, is it, Ann?"
"Yes! It's shameful and vile!"
"It is not!" He licked into her again. He spread her vulva apart and began fervently lapping, drawing his tongue up over her clitoris.
Soon she was gasping regularly, her hips automatically jerking as his tongue slithered over and around her pleasure bud.
She began whispering faintly, "Ohhh ... ohhh ohhh____"
Bruce peered up over her surging belly and saw that her normally slightly pendulous breasts seemed rounder and fuller. The areolas and nipples appeared puffed and more strongly colored.
He licked harder and faster. He wanted her to climax! And she did. A moment later she wailed, "Ohhh, B-Bruce . . . Oh! Oh ... master-MASTER!" She heaved and twisted within the limits imposed by her spreadeagled state. Turning her head quickly from side to side, she panted and let herself scream with the acute pleasure. She was crying when he stopped.
Bruce had a hard-on that felt like a foot of hot, throbbing lead was between his legs. He moved up over Ann as she wept from the reaction to her orgasm.
He kissed her. Her mouth was soft and sweet. He
rested on her warm, pillowy body. His huge cock burned against her belly. He said, "You loved that, didn't you, slave?"
"Oh, yes, master." She was submerged into her role, her eyes dancing.
"It isn't perverted, is it?"
"No, master."
Bruce moved down until his massive cock hung down between her spread thighs. The glans slid wetly against her pleasure-loosened slit.
She knew what was coming next. She couldn't prevent it! "Oh, God, Bruce ...be careful, please!"
He prodded into her slippery vulva. On the third try he found the recessed opening of her vagina. He went into her. She shuddered. Tight! Hot! Like Sherri! It had been so long ... Ann was so good inside!
Bruce worked deeper. He gazed down at her open-mouthed face. Ann's head was angled to the left, her neck was taut. Her eyes hardly saw him as half-moans, half-whines came from her throat.
He was more than seven inches into her, at least. Thick, solid, round inches.
He moved slowly in and out, in and out, and gradually deeper, deeper, deeper, pistoning into her helpless, open vulva, up into her belly, further into her vagina, stretching her, expanding her. Nothing could stop him! He liked that power, that supremacy! He liked her tied up, unable to stop him. And he knew, looking down at her as he thrust ever deeper into her hot-jelly cunt, he knew she loved it, too!
She had never been this hot before, never in her entire life! Her belly flexed and rippled with his
thrusts. There was a sheen of sweat on her skin. Tiny grunts were coming from her now, her mouth was working, her eyes were glazed, lidded. Her body twisted under him, but not urgently: luxuriously. And her hips swung up to meet his slow, deep penetrations.
Bruce kissed Ann and her mouth was suddenly alive, leeching, passionate. He felt resistance in her now-he was near the end of her vagina, the limit of the elasticity of her tissues. But he wanted to thrust all of his cock into her! It was what he had to do!
He pressed in and in, powerfully, and sank almost ... almost all of his gigantic cock into her.
Ann grunted and flinched. "AHHHH...."
He rammed still deeper! Christ-it was all into her! She was spasming inside!
Ann was gritting her teeth, hissing air, her chest heaving. Her cheeks quivered.
She keened, "Stop ... oh God, stop ... too much...."
He wouldn't stop! He grunted, "NO!" and fucked her harder! He reared back and crushed into her. The sensations were exquisite, pure pleasure.
Ann sobbed, "Bruce-oh, God-stop!"
"NO!" He buried his rigid meat again and again, driving his cock so deep he didn't believe it was happening. Her belly swelled up each time. Her hips jerked as if touched by a live wire. Her hands clenched helplessly.
"You're killing me! STOP!"
The big test. There was something in her tone- He gritted, "No! I'm master! I'll stop-when-I'M THROUGH!"
She went through changes. Her sobs altered sub-
tly. Her eyes softened. She shuddered throughout her body. She panted, moaning, "More ... hurt me more ... don't stop . .. fire .. . you're fire in my belly ... oh-oh-master!" She writhed. She became a snake under him as he slid into her honeyed depths and jolted her at the end of each massive thrust.
She was mindless now. Gasping words-"Sweet pain ... sweet pain . . .fuck . . .fuck me...."
Bruce was close-seconds away from a tremendous orgasm. He fucked like a giant, like a stallion! He roared! "OH SWEET JESUS GOD!" It was shattering him!
Ann was in a glory of pain-pleasure ... an ecstasy of sheet-lightning pain that was electrifying her as an agony of pleasure! The punishment in her belly was converted-blended-with climactic mental and physical rapture. Her master was coming, spurting in her! She shook from the force of her awakened-unleashed-emotions. Her face twisted with her deep sobs of happiness.
Bruce lay utterly spent on Ann's quiet body. He was groggy from the impact of what he had just gone through.
