No answer. He was still asleep. Asleep, and erect. A thought occurred to the beautiful young girl, and delighted, she smiled wickedly to herself.
Deftly, she maneuvered about until she squatted, kneeling over him on the bed, her thighs arched and straddling his chest, her ripe buttocks thrust into his sleeping face, her breasts dangling against his open thighs. Licking her lips, she lowered her face down, closer to the massive hard cock which thrust blindly up to her waiting lips. Her warm breath bathed the straining organ in sensuous waves of teasing anticipation, and she smiled as she saw the erect shaft tremble.
Gently, slowly, she lowered her wet pulpy lips to the twitching head and drew the throbbing bulb ever so slowly into her warm mouth. The hard shaft jerked and swelled another half-inch, and as the puckered "O" of her lips pulled and milked his tip like a sucking infant, she smiled with secret delight to hear him groan in his sleep. Slowly, she allowed another inch of throbbing cock into the honeyed warmth of her lush mouth, rhythmically milking his swollen length while her lithe tongue traced playful circles about the head, she knew she would drive him frenzied with passion ... even in his sleep.
CHAPTER ONE
The dawn was streaming through the bedroom windows and the faint honking of Chicago traffic had already begun in the streets below when Michelle awoke. Sensuously, she stretched her long slender legs beneath the cool sheets, arching her slim body to yawn extravagantly, relishing the languid sensations in the early morning stillness. Her half-opened eyes wandered idly about the room till they came to rest upon the ceiling mirror she and Robert had arranged over their spacious bed, and she noted with pleasure the sight of his sleeping form next to hers and the reflected vision of her own tawny beauty. It was still hazy and twilight in the room, but the dawn peeping in the high-rise windows gave light enough for Michelle to make out the slender outlines of her body in the mirror-Long chestnut hair flowing over the pillow and down to curl around her small firm breasts, sensuous torso with its flat smooth tummy drawn taut in a yawn, strong, curvacous thighs and a curly chestnut triangle peeping provocatively from beneath the cast-off top sheet.
Michelle yawned again and sat slowly up, groaning inwardly as she discovered how sore the past night's feverish lovemaking had left her. Propped on her elbows now, she looked down with fondness on the sleeping form of her lover, Robert, lying peacefully asleep beside her. She stroked his long blond hair affectionately, running her slender fingers down the nape of his neck to trace the rippling swells and valleys of the muscles along his neck and shoulders.
"Lover man," she told his sleeping form appreciatively, "you are definitely absolutely, undoubtedly, and without future debate one fine 'Triple-A-One' piece of ass."
Then, gently so as not to awaken him, she ran her slender hand up and down the length of his muscled back and buttocks, slipping her fingers surreptitiously along his side and stomach, loving the familiar smoothness of muscle along his buttocks and sides.
He looks so beautiful, she thought, so softly vulnerable, so very, very lovely ... and then she noticed something stirring, something between his legs. Robert had lain sleeping beside her, curled up with his back to her, his cock and groin hidden by his curled thighs, and she had not seen the familiar cock she loved so well. She saw it now as it rose, stiffening and lengthening, the swelling tip rising over the horizon of his thighs.
"Robert?"
No answer. He was still asleep. Asleep, and erect. A thought occurred to the beautiful young girl, and delighted, she smiled wickedly to herself.
Deftly, she maneuvered about till she squatted, kneeling over him on the bed, her thighs arched and straddling his chest, her ripe buttocks thrust into his sleeping face, her breasts dangling against his open thighs. Licking her lips, she lowered her face down, closer to the massive hard cock which thrust blindly up at her waiting lips. Her warm breath bathed the straining organ in sensuous waves of teasing anticipation, and she smiled as she saw the erect shaft tremble.
Gently, slowly, she lowered her wet pulpy lips to the twitching head and drew the throbbing bulb ever so slowly into her warm mouth. The hard shaft jerked and swelled another half-inch, and as the puckered O of her lips pulled and milked his tip like a sucking infant, she smiled with secret delight to hear him groan in his sleep. Slowly she allowed another inch of throbbing cock into the honeyed warmth of her lush mouth, rhythmically milking his swollen length while her lithe tongue traced playful circles about the head and glans, an oral delight she knew would drive him frenzied with passion ... even in his sleep.
In a moment, she was rewarded with a moan of unbearable pleasure from deep in her lover's throat, and the slender girl giggled around her mouthful of cock at the game she was playing, delighted with the newfound sensation of power over the unconscious man whose aching cock she teased.
That cock was Inns: and thickly pulsing now, pressing hard and deep, with an instinctive rhythm of its own. into the wet recesses of her mouth, his hips thrusting unconsciously in tiny twitches. She smiled around the width of the throbbing shaft, and with mischievous eves reached out her small finders to close about the thickness of his root, curling them fast about his throbbing base. As his peter strained to be let deeper into her throat, she felt a rising awareness of what he must be feeling, a shared empathy that never failed to arouse her doubly. Her hands marveled for the thousandth time at the hardness of the shaft they massaged, her mouth thrilled to the deeper penetration of his still swelling meat.
Michelle's warm pussy began to tingle involuntarily in her unexpected arousal, and her awakening cuntal muscles began to squeeze and close in sympathy with the thrusting rhythms of the cock she sucked. Eagerly she swallowed still more of him, pumping with newly discovered hunger at the bloated fullness of his head and pulsing shaft.
A fever began to course with growing heat through the long sinuous limbs of the chestnut-haired girl, a raging tide of consuming desire that always happened for her when she gave head to her men-Sucking cocks was as desirable and exciting as being sucked herself. And oh, she thought to herself feverishly as she doubled her efforts to take all his massive prick into her indrawn cheeks, oh, how she loved to be sucked herself!
Robert moaned again, a low guttural moan of helpless need and urgency. Excitedly she felt him begin to stir feebly beneath her. Michelle knew her man, knew he could take only so much of her specialized cocksucking before he would wake and take her, take her desperately and hard. The thought sent thrills through her as she pictured Robert throwing her roughly on her back and sinking in, plunging roughly and hard, building to a frenzied clawing finish when she would beg him, plead with him to finish her. screaming with bitch-in-heat ecstasy as his big cock exploded in her broiling cunt, giving her the thick pasty sperm she had worked so hard for.
But an inward rebelliousness arose in the slim-hipped woman as a thought occurred to her. Hell, she thought, why should he do all the work?
Or have all the fun?
Looking down on her half-conscious partner, his breath coming in short gasps, his aching organ throbbing and twitching in her mouth, his face contorted in an ecstasy of desire and need, Michelle realized that the situation of dominating this virile man excited her, filled her with curiosity and a desire to experiment further. Never in all her twenty-three years had she known such an erotic thrill as she felt now, thinking of herself possessing such a totally helpless, totally willing male body. Her mind flamed and her body tingled and shivered in cuntish pride at mastering the squirming begging cock beneath her, and a flood of intoxication engulfed her dizzyingly. Michelle knew that whatever she did now Robert would love, that she could have anything she wanted from him. Anything, and more-with his body totally responsive to her every whim and his conscious mind's inhibitions gone, she knew that suddenly she had a chance to fuck and be fucked as she never had before.
With sudden resolution she popped him from her mouth and sat up quickly, smiling at the twitch his surprised cock gave when its senses told it it had been abandoned by its warm home.
"Now you just lie back, lover man, and enjoy," she breathed huskily, "while I take this great big gorgeous fucker of yours and suck it into my hot hungry little pussy and ride it until you explode, till I feel your rich creamy juice shooting up my ready cunt. I'm going to fuck you, lover man-Oh, wow, now I'm going to fuck you!"
She maneuvered about again till she had turned around, straddling his waist with her muscular thighs. She pinned his sleeping shoulders to the bed with the weight of her slender arms, positioning her arched hips over his groin, his throbbing cock inches away from the thick pink petals of her dripping pussy. "Mmmmm! Robert, come into me," she gasped, throwing her head back in wild abandon, tousled hair falling past eyes closed in wanton lust. Her slender hand guided his searching cock firmly to the valley of her cunt, grasping the meaty rod about its base and rubbing the sensitive head against her exposed clitoris, back and forth, back and forth, massaging herself with the burning organ as if it were a dildo, torturing herself with the tantalizing ecstatic nearness of this cock she held in her hand, this cock she controlled, this cock that she wanted so very badly. Wanted. Wanted now.
"Ohhh," she gasped. "Slide that sweet hard cock up yourself, Michelle, deep, hard! Fuck yourself with it. Fuck him with it. Oh, yes, oh. oh, oh, OH, OOFFF OH YESSS, God, yes. YES, Oh, Oh, Oh, YES, YES, YESSSSS!"
The muscles of her tight vagina clutched hungrily at the tip of the probing cock her feverish hand" fed into her desperate cunt-bole, and she thought briefly she was about to faint as she guided him in, every cell of her young body crying out to be fucked, fucked more intensely than ever before. She pushed herself down on the rigid flagpole of meaty prick, sliding down the pulsing shaft with a gasp until, with a shudder, she felt him sink home. A spasm of lust shot through the sleek young woman as she felt herself totally filled, and she bucked like a mare atop him. his sleeping hips pressing gratefully up at her in his new found pleasure. She ground her hips wantonly against him in response, screwing his immense prick deep into her aching cunt, her groin writhing against him from atop as it had so often from beneath.
Michelle wrapped her straining thighs tight about his slim waist, locking her muscular calves about him in a wrestling lock of lust. The violence of her need was awakening him. Groggily he stirred, tossed his head from side to side at the ecstasy her movements were giving him, and opened his eyes.
"Mmmmm ... M'chelle? Wha-"
Michelle pushed him firmly back onto the pillows before he could say more, redoubling her weight upon him and shushing his protests with a hand over his surprised mouth.
"Now you just lie back, stud man of mine, and relax. I've decided I'm going to fuck you, and
I'm-gasp-oh that's good-I'm going to. Now-Ohhhh-now you'd better-oohhh-better just-ahhh-better just-oooo-OOOHHH, GOD, FUCK ME, ROBERT! FUCK ME, MAN! FUCK ME, FUCK, MAN, FUCK!"
Dazed and groggy from his unusual awakening, Robert stared up in awe at the ravishing woman above him, her familiar face contorted with lust into something strange and excitingly new, head snapping from side to side with her mounting need, breasts bobbing as she ground her loins ruttishly against his thrusting cock. He felt his mouth go dry with desire at the vision of his beautiful lover atop him, already near her orgasm and wildly thrashing her lush hips against his groin, moaning and panting with her need. His heart pounded with excitement as he saw the glazed passion in her eyes, saw the wild and animal need contorting her face into a mask of mindless animal lust. Excited, aroused and dazed with the passion that she had built within him while he lay unconscious beneath her tongue and loins, Robert gripped her hips firmly in his hands and began to thrust consciously, purposefully, meeting her hard pounding rhythm with a harder, faster rhythm of his own. Roughly he pistoned in and out of her dripping pussy, his long-aroused organ near bursting with come as her cuntal juices trickled down his steaming shaft to mingle where their pubic hairs mixed, sticky and warm. The bedroom swam in the scent of female heat that permeated the air drawn by their gasping, lust-constricted lungs.
"Ooooohhh! Ohhh, Robert," she gasped. "Ohhh thank you, thank you, thank you. Robert, fuck me, Robert, yes, fuck me. Ram it in deep, yes, ream me, Robert, ream me! Rip me apart! Kill me with that magnificent fucker of yours. Stud, fuck me! Fucking stud, ram it in! Oh, damn, DAMN, that's good, that's good, so good, so good. Feed it to me, baby, feed it to me! Feed it to your Michelle! I feel you ready, baby, I feel your balls aching, I feel your fucking balls swelling with boiling come, all for me! Just for me! I know you're ready, lover, I can tell! I can feel your tingling burning come inching into your cock, filling it, swelling it big in my pussy! Oh God, my pussy needs it, needs it, needs it. My pussy's dripping for you, lover. Fill me! Fill me! Shoot! Shoot, I know you can't hold it back anymore! You want it, you need it, OOOHHH," she moaned, her voice pleading with animal needs. "Ohhhh give it to me, give it to me, give it, give it, feed me it! Fuck your thick creamy come into me, fuck your rich spunky fuck into me, yes, yes, oh Goddam. Yes!"
"I'm COOOOOMMMMMMMIIIINNNGGGG!" she screamed, whipping her sweat-filmed ass down onto his screwing cock, babbling incoherent obscenities, her mind in white flame and her senses mad with wildly churning fireworks of lust. Her nails sank into his straining shoulders as he fucked viciously up at her, straining to meet the demands of her need, his hips arched and thrusting off the bed, his lifting thighs supporting her whole weight as she screamed again and again, orgasm after orgasm ripping through her ecstatic frame, reducing the woman to a twisting writhing inferno of fucking, a screaming panting tearing possession that, exhausted and burned out with its own intensity, drew one last shriek from the panting girl as she gradually slowed, exhausted, weak and blank-minded with the satiation of her long arousal, and subsided atop him, her head lolling and her eyes lidded and delirious with fever and the vertigo of arousal and gratification.
Dishevelled, her dampened chestnut hair clinging to her glistening breasts and shoulders, she sank limply down on top of him, her slender body hot with filmy sweat and drained of strength, gasping as she gently sank her teeth into his shoulder like an alley cat in afterglow.
As the exhausted woman collapsed atop him, Robert felt his swollen cock pounding in her still clenching pussy, and he slowed his thrusts to last longer. Her limp form lying so quiescent atop him was exciting, the total helplessness of her luscious body exhilarated him, and her lewd begging for his come had almost sucked it from his cock by words alone. No, this fuck wasn't over yet, he promised himself.
Seizing her firmly by limp shoulders, he rolled her over and beneath him, his full weight rolling over onto her, pinning her with his cock, now dominant over her clutching cunt, its steaming heat unabated by her exhaustion.
"Oh, Robert, no, no more, no more, please, I can't take one more thrust!" she gasped, but she clenched him to her with weakened arms none the less, and Robert thought he felt her adjust her cunt beneath him to take him more comfortably, raking her fingernails limply along his back to caress the coiled muscles of his buttocks.
"Mmmm, woman, you asked for it, you've got it now!" he said as he plunged his impatient cock in and out of her rolling cunt, feeling the exquisite pressures of orgasm building at the base of his prick. Robert held a moment to increase the pressure and thus the pleasure, his mind beginning to burn with the sweet inevitability of explosion into her hot womb. Trembling with tension, he drew his throbbing sperm-heavy cock out just to the edge of her suckling cunt, drawing a gasp of need from Michelle and feeling her arms go to push his cock back into her hungry pussy. He rammed it in deep, hard, and as she gasped gratefully and spasmed, he withdrew, plunged, again and again, until the come filling his cock almost burst the red-hot organ at the seams, filling his orick, backing up to fill his balls, filling his whole body till he became just one huge aching cock, throbbing, pounding, feverish, exploding! He had to come! Had to! Now!
"I'm COOMMMIIINNGG!" he roared, pounding again and again like a madman into the hot pussy that engulfed him and swallowed him whole as he erupted gush after gush of thick heavy come, spattering it out to soak the walls of her womb. Torrent after torrent of his manly essence flooded her gripping squeezing cunt to overflowing, squishing hotly out from the fucking pistoning of their loins to trickle steaming down their thighs.
Spent, dizzy, Robert collapsed with a groan atop the fair-haired woman, her eyes wet with tears of gratitude, her face filled with the most exquisite ecstasy, her breasts heaving against his chest as her breath came in great gulping sobs.
"Oh, Robert, thank you, thank you," she gasped huskily, and clutched her lover to her tightly. After a moment, she writhed her dripping pussy up to his swollen but slowly dwindling cock, and added warmly: "We both thank you!"
Robert nodded, too exhausted to reply, still panting from his exertion. He held her closely, savoring the warmth of their bodies together as he felt numbly the thick trunk of his cock slowly slipping from her warm wetness, consoled with the knowledge that it would soon be back again and ready for more. As his breathing calmed and his mind returned to normal after the levelling bomb blast of orgasm, he opened his eyes and found her smiling up at him.
"I love you, you gorgeous hunk of stud," she said, and giggled as he kissed her on the nose.
"I love you, too, you beautiful piece of roommate ass, but if you ever do this again-" he said, and paused for effect.
"Yes? And what if I do?" she prompted, playfully nuzzling closer to him.
He pretended to give it deep thought, frowning in a parody of weighty contemplation. "I guess I'll probably fuck you to death."
"Mmmmmmm," she purred huskily, licking her lips. "What a way to go!"
Their laughter ended in a warm wet kiss. Robert thought, as their tongues twisted and fenced in the warm embrace, that he was tasting his own cock, rich and meaty tasting, on Michelle's tongue. The thought brought on added excitement, and he kissed her even more passionately, his hands cupping and caressing the full bouncy domes of her ripe young ass. Responding, she traced her fingertips lightly down his sensitive back to the cheeks of his buttocks, past the sensitive ass crack and down to the secret depths of his sphincter. After several long moments of tonguing and fingering she felt his dormant cock beginning to stir, and, with delight, she slid her damp cuntal mound against his thigh to grant him easy entry into her lubricated depths when-BBBBRRRIIHNNNGGGG!
The alarm clock jolted them from their embrace, and, with a start, Robert slammed his palm down on the bedside nuisance. Seven o'clock it said. Seven o'clock, and a Friday morning. Michelle looked at Robert. He looked at her. Seven o'clock. Goddamn!
After a quick kiss, Robert was out of bed-reluctantly-and moving hurriedly about the apartment getting showered, dressed and shaved. Abandoned, Michelle lay between the sheets, idly playing with herself. Today was her day off from her job as art editor for a large Chicago women's magazine, and she had ample time to reflect on the defection of her lover. She knew Robert had to be at his job by eight sharp-dammit-because, after all, staff writers work harder than art editors. Or so his boss thought.
"Rrrroo-bert!" she called, and he answered from the kitchen with a grunt. The smell of instant coffee began to permeate the air. "Robert, can't you call in sick or something this morning? Not even a staff writer for-what was it that article last week called it?-a 'nationally prestigious men's magazine' like Si! can be expected to be on time every morning." (At least, she added to herself, now when I need him more.)
No answer; she hadn't expected one. She tried this almost every morning, and every morning the results were the same. She heard the kitchen tap running, heard it cut off, and heard his steps in the bathroom. The drone of his electric razor filled the apartment, and, irritated, the lovely woman rolled over clasping a pillow over her ears.
It was no use, she knew-his assignment with Si! was a writer's paradise, complete with expense accounts, his own private office and secretary (Quite a luscious secretary at that, thought Michelle, if Robert's descriptions were accurate.), frequent all-expenses-paid trips to cover stories around the country, the prestige that accompanied Si!'s popularity, and even getting to squire around the magazine's nude centerfold girls.
Michelle smiled as she remembered the night she and Robert had first met-it had been six months earlier, at a New York publisher's party. Michelle had been there representing her magazine, and was royally bored when she noticed a handsome young man across the room looking pained and as bored as she was. On his arm hung a bosomy blonde in a red slinky gown. Amused and intrigued, Michelle had drifted casually over to hear the conversation, and almost dropped her drink when she heard the girl asking Robert whether Michelangelo was a Frenchman or a Greek. Michelle giggled, remembering how grateful Robert had been when she maneuvered him away from the girl, who he'd been assigned to escort as part of Si!'s image, and how enchanted he had been by her, and she by him. They'd talked for hours out on the publisher's patio, and had been growing more and more attracted to each other all the while. Michelle still blushed when she remembered the look on the publisher's face when he brought an elderly author out to the patio to admire a rare potted palm, only to discover two humping bodies making secretive love right behind it!
Michelle lay immersed in memories when Robert emerged from the kitchen holding a half-gulped cup of instant coffee. Passing by her, he rifled through his drawers for a tie and stepped to the bedroom mirror to knot it. Moments later, he took a last look in the mirror to brush his blonde hair back, straightened his wire-rimmed glasses and realized suddenly that he had not zipped his fly. As he struggled with the stubborn zipper, wishing he could stay for just one more quick and lovely fuck with the lovely girl lying in bed behind him, he savored her nude reflection in the bedroom mirror, tracing with his eyes the ripe and promising swellings of her breasts and thighs and the inviting brown bush of her pubic mound. As he jerked impatiently at the stuck zipper, his eyes lingered lovingly on his lover's reflection in the mirror, and with widening eyes watched as her thighs opened and spread wide, her pussy lips naked to his eyes, pink and wetly glistening. Before his eyes, he saw two slender hands reach down to that sweet cunt and gently pull the lips apart to show him the wet wonders within. Robert swallowed involuntarily, feeling his throat go dry with desire and a stiffening beginning in his crotch.
He turned round to face his lover in the flesh, found her watching him in drowsy amusement and with a mischievous smile. He saw her eyes go to the bulge of his cock beneath his tight and half zipped pants, saw her lick her lips lasciviously and spread her thighs still further in irresistible invitation. Against his will, he found himself erect and urgent.
Robert stood there a moment in the bedroom, halfway between the door and Michelle's wetly inviting pussy and slowly undulating hips, torn between pleasure and responsibility.
"Oh, hell," he thought resignedly, stripping off his clothes and quickly heading towards the victoriously smiling Michelle's open arms. "This is going to be one of those days."
As the doors of the office building's elevator closed about him, Robert checked his wrist watch. He felt uneasy at being a half an hour late. He shifted his briefcase from hand to hand, nervously-not that he was on a time clock or anything, he assured himself hastily, it was just that he hated having to invent fantastic excuses for being late all the time, that was all. Then a thought occurred to him: Today was Friday, the third Friday of the month. That meant that today the negatives for the photo features for the next issue would be ready for cropping, which in turn meant that the centerfold photographs would also be in today. Robert breathed a sigh of relief. With any luck at all, not only the managing editor, Kroger, but most of the other editors as well would all be down in the art room ogling the prints of next month's centerfold girl-a lush piece of femininity that the roving photographers had discovered selling cotton candy in Kansas City. And with everyone down in the art room, he could breeze right into the Si! office lobby, and right down the hall to his own office without being seen. Then, with a little luck, no one would notice that he'd been gone most of the morning.
The elevator doors opened with a swish and Robert, pressed into concealment along one side, scanned the Si! lobby for signs of life. Coast was clear, he told himself, straightening up and breathing easier-Marge the receptionist was, as always, off in the powder room sipping coffee, and the usual crowd of hangers-on around her desk had either followed her or gone back to work.
Confidently, he stepped out of the elevator and strode purposefully down the marble hall, past empty editorial offices and vacant secretaries' desks, to the small paneled door that read Robert Allen, Staff Writer on it. Casting a last glance over his shoulder, to assure that no one witnessed his guilty entrance, he stepped in, shut the door after himself, and with a sigh of relief closed his eyes and leaned against the door. He'd made it!
"Oh, hello, Robert. Where were you all morning?"
He jumped involuntarily, then whirled around to see that the voice behind him was that of his secretary, Mara. She smiled in amusement at his nervousness, leaned forward across her desk and cupped her hands around her mouth in burlesque secrecy. "Have no fear, boss o' my heart," she whispered conspiratorially. "I've been covering for you. The centerfold prints didn't come in this morning after all. Something about a printer's strike, so Kroger was pretty pissed. Everyone else kind of slunk off to drink coffee and avoid the wrath of the Big Man. You got a lot of calls, and one from him, but I said you were in conference. Here're your messages," she said, handing him a wad of pink memos. "Say, you can't be that rattled about being half an hour late. What's up?"
Slipping his coat onto the back of the swivel chair, Robert sat down and began flipping through the messages, discarding some, making paper airplanes of others. "Well," he smiled, "it's not so much what is up as what was up. Me, to be exact."
Mara brushed a stray strand of flowing red hair from her green eyes, grinned, and leaned back to contemplate her handsome boss with open amusement. "Michelle again, huh? You know, boss man, that piece sure keeps you busy! She must really be some kind of action. When do I get to meet the foxy lady?" .
Robert grinned, admiring her infectious humor, and found himself responding to her sparkling green eyes and her laughing manner. "Oh, I don't know," he mused, enjoying the ripe swells of her freckled breasts beneath the skin-tight black blouse she had worn for him today. "It all depends on what you had in mind. For instance, I don't think I could take a threesome-after all, you're a pretty foxy lady yourself, and I don't know whether I could handle you both at the same time. Even singly you're more than enough woman for a dozen men, and together you might just be too much for me. And though that's certainly the best way to go, I'd hoped to live a little longer first."
Her green eyes shone at this compliment, and Robert thought he noticed her snbtly shifting position in her chair, so to present him with a provocative view of her full breasts, braless beneath the black fabric of her shirt, the large round nipples thrusting clearly through the restraining material. Her voice took on a huskier tone.
"Don't underestimate yourself, love. You certainly handled me quite well, those few times-which I wish Michelle would leave you more time for." She ran her eyes swiftly over his trim body, licked her lips and added: "Very well-handled indeed!"
Slowly she revolved her chair away from her desk to face him, exposing the sensuous lengths of her curvaceous legs and thighs to his view, crossing one rounded thigh slowly across the other in a sensuous gesture of invitation. Robert found himself fascinated by the sight, remembering how delightful those legs had been wrapped about him in bed, how lovely and gentle and warm her body had been to him. Snapping out of reverie, he looked up from her thighs to see her watching his gaze and smiling in amusement, green eyes smoldering and her red wavy hair tumbling freely to her slowly heaving breasts. The air was suddenly electric with tension. A pensive stillness filled the office as Robert watched the lovely Irish girl draw her manicured fingers slowly up the length of her leg from calf to knee to thigh to hip in a stroking sensuous gesture of invitation.
He cleared his throat, blinked, and remembered suddenly where they both were. The memo sheets, gripped in his hand, rustled. He cleared his throat again, found it dry with want, and suddenly they were both laughing together, the tension and the moment both gone. And, somewhere in the laughter was his reedy voice saying absurdly: "Ah, harrumph, let's uh, ah, let's get back to, uh, get back to, uh, work, uhhhh." The small paneled office rang to their shared laughter. Just as it crossed his mind that here was one of the warmest and rarest women he'd ever met, she rose, crossed over and he was hugging her affectionately, friendly.
The buzzer on Mara's intercom interrupted them. Still giggling, Mara broke away and hit the buzzer switch, sobering her voice to just a hint of restrained mirth. "Hello, Mr. Allen's office, Ms. Callahan speaking. May I help you?"
The voice on the intercom was deep, middle-aged, authoritative and impatient. "Hello? Callahan? What exactly are you laughing at, and since when does Si! pay its employees to giggle at their managing editors?"
She wiped the smile from her face as realization dawned. Robert was mused to see her straighten up to unconscious attention for the unseen caller. "Oh, uh, sorry, Mr. Kroger. Sorry, sir. I was just, uh, I was laughing at something else, uh, something personal, sir." She shot a glance to Robert, and suppressed a smile.
"Awright, awright," rasped the voice of the editor. "Get your ass down to the Carson show if you're that much of a comedienne. Now would it be too much to ask if I were to want to speak to your boss-now that the asshole's finally in. Another hard night of fucking, I see. Put him on-you wouldn't be laughing, wench, if he weren't there, so don't hand me anymore 'conference' crap."
She handed the phone to Robert, suppressing laughter; Kroger was a lovable old bull of a man, top in his field for twenty years, and his famous bark covered a soft heart. Allen lifted the receiver. "Hello, A.T."
"Hello, Robert, and my compliments to that piece of editorial ass you're living with. She sure as hell sees more of you than we do. Saw her picture on the masthead of her magazine: damned sexiest-looking art editor I've ever seen. Now that I know what kind of meat we're losing you to every morning, I don't feel so bad about it, but for God's sake, don't go starting a trend among the staff. Now get your ass out of the clutches of that beautiful secretary I was fool enough to let you claim for your own, and hustle it upstairs to my office, I've got an assignment for you-for both of you, actually. Now move it." The line went dead.
Hanging up, pensively, Robert wondered to himself what the assignment could be. Old man Kroger certainly was in a good mood about it, whatever it was; Robert couldn't remember the crusty old editor so happy since one of their leading competitors had been forced into bankruptcy by a stock fraud scandal. Whatever it was, it had to be a location story, he mused, or Kroger wouldn't have made a point of including Mara. He noticed her expectant expression. "Cool your curiosity, love," he said. "I'll let you know what's going on as soon as I find out myself. Better get ready to pack your bags, though-looks like we're going to be doing some travelling again." Robert slipped his coat on, straightened his tie, and started out the door. "Oh, by the way, Mara," he added as an afterthought, "you don't have any heavy dates scheduled for this weekend, do you?"
The curvaceous redhead, reclined negligently against her desk, looked him in the eyes appraisingly. She spoke huskily. "Not before, I didn't. But I do ... now."
The smile she gave him then kept him warm all the way to Kroger's office.
Al Kroger's office was immense, baronial-designed to impress the visitor with its size, and to bring home the realization of how important this man must be to commandeer so much valuable space for his personal use. The carpet was thick, ankle-deep; the paneled oak walls were lined with trophies, animal heads, plaques and awards, and life-sized color posters of Si!'s Girl Of The Year, from 1955 on, each autographed in some strategic portion of the anatomy by the girl herself.
Kroger was engrossed in paperwork behind his massive desk. Robert helped himself to a cup of coffee from the bar in the comer, passing up the assorted brandies and liqueurs in their glass decanters.
Kroger spoke without looking up. "You know, Rob, I really do congratulate you on your roommate. Not only is she a piece, but I like her artwork. Tell her I'd try to bribe her away from that damned women's magazine of hers if I thought it would do any good. But then, come to think of it, I'd never get any work out of either of you." Kroger glanced up, gestured Robert to a seat. A big, beefy man, Al Kroger had a habit of speaking around the eternal soggy cigar stump he chewed, that gave him the air of a '30's gangster, an impression often reinforced by his gravelly South Chicago accent.
"Siddown, siddown. Take a look at this and tell me what you think."
He tossed a dog-eared magazine across the desk. Robert found an article marked and under-lined. He turned to the date on the cover; the issue was almost exactly a year old.
Scanning the article briefly, Robert found it lavishly illustrated with stills from pornorgraohic films. He scanned the article a few moments longer, looked up at his boss to see Kroger regarding him intently through a bluish haze of cigar smoke.
"'The First Annual Erotic Film Festival'?' asked Robert.
Kroger nodded. "Right. Held every year in New York City. Exhibition of the sexiest films made that year. They all make their annual preview showing at the festival. Lotsa young filmmakers, lotsa avante-garde stuff, lots of sex starlets around. Lotsa tits 'n' ass." Kroger chortled, noticed his cigar had gone out, frowned. "Whadda you think about it?"
"I think it's a sensational idea. But what are we doing with a year-old article on it? Isn't that kind of stale reporting?"
Kroger nodded again briskly. "Which is why we need a fresh coverage on it. Missed the first festival last year. As you can see, these guys beat us to it. As you can see, also, this is gonna be pretty newsworthy stuff, especially for a magazine with a men's emphasis like Si!'s." Kroger leaned back, relit his cigar, which went out again, cursed, relit it again. "That secretary of yours used to be one of our reporters or something before she got hooked up with your office, didn't she?"
Robert saw it coming, decided to help it along. "One of the best, A.T. Won some awards. She still does some occassional free-lance work for us, I think; she had a pictorial for us about six months ago," and he indicated one of the nude centerfolds on the wall-a honey-blonde, reclined along a rail fence in a clover pasture.
"Goddamn," said Kroger, his bushy eyebrows arching in surprise. "She did that?"
Robert nodded.
"That settles it, then." Kroger hit the switch on his intercom, leaned forward towards the mike. "Lil? ... Lil? ... Dammit, where is she when-Hello? Lil! Where the hell were-no, never mind, scratch that. Pull that packet I had you make up for Allen and bring it in. Now!" A moment later, the door opened and a flustered long-legged secretary laid a bulky manila envelope on the desk and beat a hurried retreat to her own office. "It's all here, Rob. An outline on the kind of stuff we want, an expense account authorization, two press badges from Si! and two round-trip tickets to New York. You've got reservations on the four-fifteen and reservations at the Plaza for the weekend. Be in here Monday morning with next month's cover story. Do what you're capable of and we'll have the best issue of the year."
Robert accepted the proffered packet with pleasure. He could tell that this was going to be a truly memorable weekend. He stood to leave and shook Kroger's outstretched beefy hand.
"Just one thing, Allen."
"Sir?"
Kroger's weather-beaten face broke into a lopsided grin. "Screw 'er one for me!"
CHAPTER TWO
Robert and Mara hurried down the crowded airport corridors toward the gate for their flight, each juggling their armloads of hastily packed overnight bags, overcoats for the unpredictable New York weather, portable typewriters and photographic equipment and tickets.
Mara's cameras had set off the airport's metal detector, and time had slipped away while a quick-talking Robert persuaded the stone-faced security guards not to frisk them both-especially Mara, whose half-concealed charms had the inspectors salivating visibly. Meanwhile, the omnipresent intercom system was announcing the eminent departure of their 707 flight to New York, and it was with great relief that Robert accepted the guard's grudging apologies and hurried Mara along towards the gate, lugging what seemed like ten percent his stuff, ninety percent hers.
It was truly amazing, he reflected as he puffed on down the hallway, his beautiful secretary cool and calm beside him, how much sheer impedimenta to travel a woman can amass on the shortest notice. But, he thought, eyeing the finely chiseled beauty of her face, the flowing wonder of her red hair, the sinuous enticement of her walk, there are compensations that make traveling with a woman worthwhile. Yes, indeed-most worthwhile. And he grinned, wondering if she were thinking the same about him.
As if reading his thoughts, the auburn-haired secretary slipped her arm around his waist, gave the slightest suggestion of a loving squeeze, and as they walked, whispered in his ear a randy proposal that sent him into raucous, rowdy laughter, startling the bustling travelers around them. In answer, he smiled mischievously and winked at her conspiratorially. Laughing, they found their tickets and presented them to the petite stewardess at the boarding ramp, who crisply checked them and gestured towards the waiting aircraft.
The big 707 was already beginning to warm its engines, and Robert and Mara were met with hot blasts of air as they scurried, hair blowing wildly, across the runway to the boarding ramp. They rode the portable escalator to the door of the jet, where a second stewardess, a curly-haired redhead, just a shade darker than Mara, welcomed them aboard with a well-trained smile. Checking their ticket numbers, she led them to their reserved seats, her pert little buttocks twitching back and forth invitingly in the tight airlines mini-skirt as she led Allen and his secretary up the aisle. She hovered there in the aisle, smiling anxiously and, it seemed to Mara, suspiciously, while Robert stowed away their carry-on luggage, his well-muscled, youthful body obvious through his revealingly tailored suit. Watching the hungry blue eyes of the red-haired stewardess as she buzzed around her handsome young employer, it was obvious to Mara that the young woman was horny for him, very horny indeed by the look of her, and Mara did not like it.
Randy little bitch, aren't you? she thought to herself. Devouring him with your eyes like you haven't had a man like him in months. I just bet your little cunt is just dripping for him. Isn't it? Hmmm? I can almost smell you, you high-flying whore. I imagine it's good and hot and tight, just thinking about what he'd feel like inside you, eh? But not as hot as mine is for him, honey, so you'll just have to wait your turn awhile. Although, she thought, surveying the woman's trim figure and taking in her attractive legs and ass, I don't imagine dear Robert would mind an invitation from you at all. And, as a matter-of-fact, thought the libidinous secretary, studying the stewardess' firm breasts and firm thighs through the thin concealment of her airline uniform, J wouldn't say no to a little action with you myself, just between us girls.
"I said, would you like something to drink, Mara?"
Mara snapped out of her erotic speculations, realizing Robert was talking to her. "Mmmm?"
"Never mind. Here miss ... well each have chamnagne. And thanks." Robert gave the redheaded stewardess a smile of friendly dismissal, and reluctantly the woman left for the passenger's kitchen in the rear, casting a longing glance back at the appreciative Allen. Robert turned to Mara with a smile of amusement. "You were certainly in a daze there for a moment. Which was it, her or me?"
She paused a moment appreciating his good looks, remembering the redheaded stewardess' promising young body and obvious readiness. "A little of both, really. Do you fancy her?"
"Oh, not really. She's all right, but a bit too eager. I like my women a bit more-difficult." He smiled. "Besides, there's an old saying to the effect that one redhead at a time is enough. And you're a real redhead."
She threw her head back and laughed, remembering their first time in bed together. "And always willing to prove it."
Robert leaned forward to kiss her. As their lips met, the NO SMOKING sign lit and the intercom came alive with the pilot introducing himself and rambling through the mixed travelogue and rules and regulations speech that pilots alwavs give. As they fastened their seat belts and the jet's big engines began to build and swell into the roaring whine of takeoff, Robert felt Mara nibbling playfully at his ear. The luscious redheaded girl was always ready to go, he mused, and how he loved it! She was almost as horny as Michelle, he thought, and which one was the better in bed was more than he could decide. Although, he reminded himself wryly, he never seemed to weary of trying.
They were aloft, and as they unfastened their seat belts, Robert became aware of the stewardess's return, bearing their drinks. Disinterestedly, he accepted Mara's drink, passed it to her, and then, wordlessly, as he reached for his own, he looked up for the first time into the face of the stewardess who had brought the drinks.
He was looking up into the face of a goddess. It was not the same stewardess as before. God, no, thought Robert amazedly. This woman was tall, statuesque, her indescribably beautiful features chiseled as if in marble, or in perfect, flawlessly pure ice, her haughty beauty framed by a cascading fall of clean blonde hair-a Swedish blonde that spoke of health and vigor and fresh springtime lust for life. Her cool blue eyes regarded him unflinchingly, serenely taking him in and measuring him wholly, a look of such utter fearless intensity that Robert felt she was looking right through him. His eyes, as if by a will of their own, traced their way down this vision's sculpted neck and throat to the firmly rounded valley of her breasts, just barely contained in her revealing uniform; two perfectly symmetrical Matterhorns, warm, inviting, somehow unapproachable, as if there were mountains he was never meant to climb. Then there was her slim long-waisted torso flaring out into broad, full hips with maturity and promise of infinite capacity, infinite capability, infinite ability to conquer. Her thighs stretched long, slender, golden from beneath the short skirt, running into tapered calves-long, languid, sensuous legs, like her sensuous, creamy breasts and her exquisitely manicured nails. Blue: ice blue, like her eves, Robert gulped. awed with this beauty, his body afire with instant want and an intensity of desire that he had never known for any woman before. He felt an awesome desperation of need that was almost religious in its pagan power. Robert gulped, dry-throated, speechless, his mind dizzied with desire for this goddess of a woman who stood over him. surveying him so casually with those soul-consuming eyes. "Your drink, sir."
Just a hint of impatience; cool, casual acceptance of the condition she had thrown him into, Casual, as if she did this to every man she met; casual, as if she expected it, as if it were somehow her right, the dutiful tribute men paid to her frosty, haughty beauty.
Robert realized he had not taken his own champagne, that she was still standing there proffering it on the tray. Oblivious of Mara on the seat next to him, he took the drink, staring awed into her eyes. As she straightened and made as if to walk away, Robert recovered enough to raise his glass to her in a silent gesture, a cosmopolitan toast between sophisticates. From across the aisle, she betraved the slightest of smiles: an amused smile, faintly contemptuous, the smile from a full-grown woman to a little boy. Wordlessly, slowly, she turned and walked away, the perfect domes of her full, mature ass tick-tocking tantalizingly as she moved down the aisle, a matured sensuous gesture of-of what? Availability? Mockery? Certainly it was sexual; deeply, powerfully sexual, somehow at once both sophisticated and primal, world-wise and earthy. Robert was entranced, and utterly at a loss.
Mara spoke first. "God, she's beautiful." Then: "I can understand why you want her so much. God, what an air about her!" And she pointed to his crotch for explanation. Looking down, Robert was not surprised to see a massive erection jutting like some mammoth tentpole beneath his tight slacks. So she must have seen, he thought. Was that what she had had that Mona Lisa smile about? And what was it-Contempt? Flattery? Promise of something to come?
Robert's head spun dizzyingly, and he struggled to think clearly. What was this spell that the woman had thrown over him, he wondered-God, no woman had ever affected him like this before. There was a sexual magnetism about her-part animal sensuality, part untamed primal womanhood, part something queenly, something royal, something imperial and commanding about her every move, her every word, her every gesture. Dazed, Robert downed his drink in a gulp.
"Her name's Karin," said Mara, noting his preoccupation. "I saw her name tag; I wasn't as affected as you. Though, damn," she said, "I was affected, too. I've never seen anyone before who just-just oozed sexuality like that woman. Never saw anyone who immediately made me feel like a beginner, either. Jesus, Robert, looking at her, not only do I want her, I feel like a virgin again compared to her experience, her attitude. And you know I'm no virgin."
He had to smile at that. She was right; the mysterious Karin did seem somehow vastly superior sexually, as though she had had experiences and depths of eroticism that mere mortals could never hope to share. But best to put her out of mind, he told himself-she was obviously out of either of their leagues, experienced and sophisticated though they were. Apparently there was another league, one they'd never dreamed of before-and without a doubt this icy, haughtily irresistible Karin was in it. Yes, better put her out of your mind, boy-until you can expect to offer her what she seems to be used to. Though Robert would have given anything to-well, he reminded himself, forget about her. After all, you're not exactly alone. And he regarded the pensive Mara beside him appreciatively, noting the grace and quiet sensuality with which she sipped her drink. Obviously she had been as aroused by the Ice Queen as he.
"Say," he whispered, leaning closer to the undeniably gorgeous woman, "what would you say to a motion to adjourn to the, eh, relative privacy of the washroom on this thing for a little celebratory fuck in honor of our assignment?"
She thought it over, and a sparkle came into her green eyes. "Just a quickie, though," she insisted. "After all, there's constant traffic back and forth on these things, and we don't exactly want to get caught at 30,000 feet. I don't know what the rules are about that kind of thing, but I have a feeling it's not exactly encouraged."
Robert agreed gladly, and the two made their way side by side down the aisle. Halfway to the restrooms, Mara whispered: "By the way, which do we use, men's or women's?" Robert paused a moment, whispered back: "The women's."
Mara led the way round the curtain into the women's washroom, came back in a moment whispering: "All's clear." Robert hurried in, and they shut the door behind them.
"Does it lock?"
"I think so, somehow," replied Mara. "But damned if I know how. Forget it, no one's going to interrupt us. And now, lover man-"
In one swift motion, she lifted her arms and pulled her sweater up, over and off, baring the magnificence of her breasts, twin rounded globes bobbing free and unrestrained, the nipples already firm and erect with her excitement. Robert watched mesmerized as the luscious woman leaned down to roll her nylons down and off, stripping away their sheerness as her slender hands caressed the curved length of her shapely legs. Then she unfastened her skirt, letting the trim-fitting garment shimmy down her hips and ass to fall soundlessly to the floor, revealing her naked beauty to the widening eyes of the lusty Robert, reveling in the smoldering passion she saw her exhibitonism creating in him. Robert, in turn, had his clothes off in seconds, and their naked bodies embraced, bare flesh against bare flesh, his muscular hardness pressed against her warm, softly feminine form, his urgent cock throbbing against the velvet mound of her cunt.
His hands found her breasts, and Mara sighed with rapture as he stroked and caressed those rounded glories, massaging their fruity fullness with his palms, his fingers plucking gently, teasingly at her firm nipples, her flesh hot against his hand. Leaning back against the wall of the washroom, she brought her thigh firmly between Robert's, the soft curve of her velvety flank nuzzling his crotch, pressing excitedly against his loaded balls and the base of his thickly pulsing prick. Breathing heavily, the redheaded secretary buried her face in Robert's muscular shoulder, nibbling and biting his neck, his throat, his ears, using teeth and lips and tongue to rouse him to the quick frenzy she knew so well, a frenzy that she knew turned him into a beastial wild man, a roaring demon that could bring her to orgasm in seconds-and would. With her free hands, she stroked the hard muscles of his tensed small buttocks, raked her nails teasingly along the muscles of his broad back.
"Ooooh, Robert, Robert," she sighed. "That's so good, so very good. Take me, Robert," she whispered urgently. "Take me here, take me now! Now!"
And eagerly he complied, inching his hand down from fondling her steaming breast to burrow into the hot slit of her womanhood. There his probing fingers found what they were looking for, and with satisfaction Robert heard a sigh of pleasure shudder from the beautiful redhead in his arms as his fingers stroked her enlarging clitoris, sending waves of erotic excitement through the woman's robust frame. She was hot, and wet, and ready, he knew, and slowly he inched the tip of his throbbing, anxious cock to the opening of her pussy, intending to play with her a while, make her wait and beg for it, make her really want it so that when he gave it to her-and give it he would!-she would enjoy it all the more. But Mara was not to be toyed with this time, and before he could stop her, she tore her hands away from his back and ass and seized the trunk and base of his swollen cock, clutching it hungrily and cramming it forcefully into the depths of her anxious cunt.
Mmmm, God, how tight she is, how steaming hot, he thought to himself, and gasped in awe at the intensity of her passion. She must really be horny, he thought, and come to think of it, maybe it was because of that goddess bitch, that unreachable sex queen, Karin. Robert swallowed drily as an image of the beautiful stewardess filled his mind, a breathtaking intensity of desire that sent his cock swelling still further inside the hungrily pumping Mara, sent thrills of passion up and down the length of his spine. As the thought of Karin's big healthy breasts and fleshy butt and thighs filled his mind, he realized that Mara would be benefitting from the lust Karin had created in him, for the desire he had for the blonde would be vented on the redhead-and, it occurred to him, that the same was true of Mara. She, too, wanted Karin, and now had himself instead. For a moment, Robert fantasized Karin, what it would be like to be in her, plowing his lust-swollen cock into her screaming, steaming cunt, and then he dismissed it from his mind, resigning himself to the eternal unavailability of the ravishing blonde.
A squeeze of Mara's cuntal muscles on the rigid shaft of his cock brought him back to the here and now, and with eagerness he pressed forward, gripping Mara's thighs with his strong hands and firmly cupping the full domes of her fleshy ass, pulling her slowly undulating pelvis towards him and thrusting himself in to the hilt. The rhythm was slow, sensual, savage, and in seconds the woman was tossing her head back and forth deliriously, her long red hair whipping back and forth with each turn, her beautiful, sensual features contorted with mounting lust and impending orgasm. As she thrust, she gripped his own tight ass in her slender, manicured hands, the nails sinking in as she held on for dear life, urging him deeper, harder.
Robert began to feel a familiar tingling in his balls, felt it spreading to the base of his cock, felt the precarious tightening of muscles that precedes a shattering orgasm, sensed also that Mara was about to come. He renewed his efforts, thrusting harder and increasing the tempo to match their rising needs, thrusting into the luscious redheaded woman faster, faster, their bodies burning and their loins fusing with the red-hot friction of their joining, his urgent cock like a blazing piston in her frantically milking cunt. Faster, faster, faster There was a rattling sound of a knob turning behind them, and suddenly the washroom door was being opened! Through Robert's fuck-drugged mind flew thoughts of discovery and shocked passengers, angry crew, and a hurried departure in NYC. Then he looked behind him to see their discoverer, dragging himself away from the lust-crazed and oblivious Mara.
It was Karin!
The blonde goddess stood there, framed in the doorway, her perfect body silhouetted in its tight uniform against the brightly lit interior of the 707, her chiselled features an inscrutable mask, her cool blue eyes taking in the scene before her totally, completely.
Robert stared, stunned and speechless, unable to speak or think, his mind reeling from the nearness of Mara and the unexpected appearance of his sex goddess, so close and yet so unreachable! He knew he should say something, knew he should stop her before she screamed or streaked off to tell the crew, or God only knows what else, yet he realized even as he thought it, that he could not. He could only stare at her, his cock caught in the redhead's cunt, his naked body embracing hers as the blonde continued to regard them both with an unreadable serenity and detachment that Robert found unnerving.
What he saw next un-nerved him further. Wordlessly, the blonde stewardess stepped calmly into the washroom with them, pulling the door softly shut behind her, and as Robert looked unbelievingly on, he heard the quiet clicking of the lock being set. The blonde took another step forward, now right next to him in the small cubicle, her jacketed breasts rising and falling slowly before his eyes, her manicured hands going to smooth the ruffles of her skirt across her sensuous hips, her long voluptuous body proud and erect as she looked down on him with queenly appraisal, coolly noting the lines of his lean muscles, the thrust of his hard cock where it disappeared into the dazed Mara's cunt.
Without speaking, she took his hand, brought it slowly to her breast, allowed him to feel its voluptuous swell beneath her blouse. "You know," she purred softly, "I thought it would be like this."
Before Robert could reply, she had danced away from him. Standing just out of his reach while the stunned Mara looked on, the stewardess casually shucked her blouse, shed her miniskirt and panties and high heels in the crowded washroom, revealing to both their hungry stares the voluptuous curves of her glorious body.
Her body was tall, majestic, flawless, her flesh white as marble, suggesting an ancient Grecian statue of the ideal woman, yet somehow suffused with a glow of radiance and vitality beyond most mortals' imagination. She absorbed the sighs and ahhs from the lust-locked two as her due, her right, and smiled ever so faintly at the inevitable reaction to her bare beauty. She watched their eyes as they traveled the length and breadth of her breathtaking form, noting the widening of their eyes and the lust inflaming their faces as they reacted to the long slender curves of her legs, the rounded invitations of her thighs, the haughty regality of her fine-boned features.
"I saw you both lusting after me earlier," she said, hands on hips and her head held regally high. "And it's obvious to all three of us that you both want me, want me so badly that you had to come in here to jack-off with each other over me. No more games playing, please, we're not kiddies anymore. You both want me, want me desperately. Now how'd you like a chance to do something about it?"
Robert and Mara looked at each other speechlessly, stunned at the incredible words the blonde goddess was so nonchalantly saying. Their earlier arousal had faded briefly under the shock and con fusion of discovers, but the sudden and unexpected appearance of this woman they had each been fantasizing, and the brazen, shameless proposition she was making them, turned the two on like nothing they could ever have imagined, igniting their lust like dynamite thrown into a bonfire.
Taking their stunned silence as an answer, Karin strode forward, crisply taking command. "You, redhead," she said to Mara, "what's his name, and yours?"
"Mara. And he's-he's Robert," she said, dazed, her mind awhirl with anticipation, sensing that the both of them had stumbled onto the experience of a lifetime.
"All right, then." commanded Karin. 'You get out of her, Robert. I'm not ready for you to come yet, and I have something in mind for Mara." Robert complied, amazed at how readily he followed the blonde's instructions. He stood aside Mara now, his immense cock jutting like a flagpole between his legs, glistening with the sheen of Mara's vaginal secretions. Mara reclined against the wall in the position Robert had left her. Karin glanced shortly at Robert's cock as if adjudging it adequate, then pulled Mara away from the wall, ordered the redhead to make a seat for her out of she and Robert's wadded-up clothes. This the girl did, and Karin seated herself on the cushion like a queen assuming some erotic throne, her back straight, her twin glorious breasts jutting out flawless, alluring, perfect, spreading her thighs wide to reveal to the two the wetly shining furrow of her snatch. Wordlessly, she took Mara by the hair, guided the unresisting, trembling redhead to her open, waiting pussy, forcing her to kneel on all fours between her outstretched thighs, her small feet resting on Mara's back as if on a footstool intended for her convenience. Reverently the girl parted the gauzy blonde barrier of the stewardess' pubic hair, revealing a large and seemingly insatiable pussy with an already enlarged, hungry-looking clitoris. Mara licked her lips drily, closed her eyes and began to go to work on the queenly woman.
Robert stood while this went on, his cock twitching eagerly at the sight of Karin's waiting snatch, at the vision of Mara's pubes exposed doggy-style between her legs as she knelt before the blonde. He wondered briefly what role he was to play in this erotic drama, but only briefly, Karin leisurely extended her hand, gripped him by the handle of his rigid cock and pulled him to her, her eyes closing with enjoyment from Mara's competent tonguing, her breath becoming harder as her thighs opened wider to the girl's talented tongue and lips.
For one glorious second, Robert had expected his goddess to actually take him into her mouth, but soon found that her only intention was a slow hand job to keep him docile and erect while Mara finished her ministrations. With a sudden rockhard gripping of his cock in her long-fingered hand and a slight tensing of her shoulder muscles, followed by a long gentle sigh, Robert realized that she had come, and Mara's quivering frame as she continued her tonguings, buried in the woman's snatch, convinced him that the redhead, too was almost about to come, probably with sheer excitement since the goddess had done nothing to sate the girl. Unless somehow being there was satiation, and Robert suspected that it was. Then his wonderings were over as he saw Karin lift Mara by her long red hair again, pulling her determinedly up from between her legs and dismissing her for the moment with a wave of her elegant hand. As Mara stood to one side, vacating the space on the floor between the woman's legs, which Karin somehow made seem like an altar of lust, a shrine of eroticism at which to worship with your flesh, Robert realized with a thrill that it was his turn, now. And so it was. Firmly, insistently, Karin was pushing him down between her legs, her thighs splayed wide to receive him, and her body reclining against the cabin wall, her mouth half-opened and her eyes closed with sensual delight. And Robert obeyed, eager to experience for himself the ecstasies Mara had tasted between the blonde's legs. He knelt anxiously, lowered his head eagerly to her waiting pussy lips.
"No, not like that," she said, gripping him by the shoulders and raising his head from between her legs, pulling him brusquely into position for entering her. "In me, I want you in me, man. Use your hard cock for something besides looking at. I'll take it easy on you," she said, taking his prick by its base and guiding him firmly in.
Robert felt he was being engulfed by a hot volcano, swallowed whole by her seething, seemingly bottomless cunt. His cock tingled and throbbed in its new home, and he sank in up to the hilt. For the first time in his life, he encountered a woman too large, too demandingly deep for even his enormous cock to satisfy. No sooner had he sunk in, and began to swim in the drunken rapture of being in her, when she began to move herself about him, leisurely constricting and massaging him with her vaginal muscles. She did not move her hips an inch, did not thrust or writhe or buck as all his other women did, simply sat enthroned above him like a regal queen while she worked at his burgeoning, lust-bloated organ with those masterful, superbly trained pussy muscles. Robert thought fleetingly that he was being handled by a professional, being taken the way a man takes a woman, a masterful engulfment of superior over inferior, dominant over weaker, and it occurred to Robert, as his head swam with the sensations she was giving him, that this time she was the dominant, he the weaker. And, his mind reeling, his cock pulsing and writhing with unbearable ecstasy in the hot cauldron of her body, he realized that he loved it. And hot on the heels of that dizzying realization, was the realization that he was almost about to come! Despite himself, this-this haughty blonde goddess of sex was literally sucking the seed from him as if he were a straw!
"You're going to come in about thirty seconds," said Karin, her voice cool and casual. "So I want you to remember all this very clearly. Afterwards you're never going to be sure it wasn't all a dream, so enjoy this special dream, Robert. For the first time in your life, you've actually lived out a dream." And with that she redoubled, tripled her muscular contractions, rocketing him helplessly towards his climax. She smiled faintly, arching her back to bring him fully against her, gripping him by the shoulders and holding him away at arm's length while she quickly, expertly finished him, her vaginal muscles engulfing him in a hot blaze of orgasm.
"Kar-Karin, God, God, no, Goddess, I'm CCCOOOMMMMIINNGGG! AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGHHH!" he moaned, bucking and writhing against her milking hips, his mind levelled in the white heat of orgasm, his prick convulsing thick sperm deep into her endless cunt, his orgasm spurting out his seed into her haughtily welcoming bowels. Exhausted, drained, reeling with the whirlwind culmination of his long desire, he sank back to his knees, his cock plopping free from her now relaxed cunt, limp and shrinking once out of her steaming womb.
Robert did not feel her push him gently aside, did not feel her rising or dressing, did not hear what she said to Mara or the moanings of the redhead's orgasm while Karin fingered her. All he knew was that he was in heaven for a while, and woke with Mara nudging him impatiently, half-dressed and flushed with orgasm. As she helped him to his feet and consciousness returned, his memory came with it, and groggily he remembered the words of the mysteriously vanished blonde who had so masterfully, exquisitely seized command of them both for a brief, fleeting moment: " ... you're never going to be sure it wasn't all a dream...."
Mara and Robert disembarked the plane minutes later in New York, speechless because none of the words they knew seemed adequate for what they'd both experienced. But as they walked from the plane to the terminal and the gray spires of Manhattan greeted them on the horizon, it occurred to Robert that this was going to be one hell of an assignment. And slipping an arm around the lovely Mara's waist, he hurried towards the city with anticipation.
CHAPTER THREE
The Greenwich Village loft of rising young erotic film maker Rene DuBauche was spacious, cavemously large, and somehow mysterious, giving the effect of a vast shadowy underworld of magic and surreal experience. Much of the loft was filled with sets and lights and photographic equipment, for it was in this studio that the film maker shot most of her indoor sex scenes. The huge loft was full of erotic fantasy sets: Louis XIV bedrooms with gilded woodwork and brocade beds, mirrored bedrooms, transparent water beds, haystacks with blankets spread upon them, Roman orgy sets, and every other set and prop that the industrious and enthusiastic film maker had found a need for in her short but prolific career.
The afternoon Manhattan light gave a waning illumination through the wide loft windows, casting a pale gray twilight throughout the young film makers' combination home and studio. Earlier, the place had been full of reporters and photographers, interviewing the enigmatic and charismatic DuBauche about her latest films which would be previewed later that night when the Erotic Film Festival held its Grand Opening at eight o'clock. Rene had served coffee and cakes (marijuana-laden, bringing many of the reporters back for seconds) to the large and inquisitive crowd, seizing the opportunity to publicize her two latest discoveries, Tina and Louise. The two seventeen-year old girls whose bisexual performances in DuBauche's latest film. Blazing Thighs, promised to make that film the hit of the festival.
The interview went on for several hours, Rene fielding questions from the boisterous and good-natured reporters with her legendary poise and composure. The journalists (like Robert and Mara, who were among the crowd, but left early) felt themselves on a holiday, and the mood was jovial as the reporters, some men and some women, from magazines and newspapers all over the country, alternately questioned and joked with the attractive brunette film maker, whose slight trace of French accent gave color to her purring speech.
Then Rene had brought her two girls out for a photography session, and a round of appreciative (or jealous) oooh's and aaahhh's went up from the audience of reporters as the two slender, lithe young beauties emerged wearing skimpy and translucent gowns made of some wispy, gauzy material. The gowns were open from the breasts and flowing to their bare feet. The girls paraded demurely for the applauding reporters, and as camera bulbs flashed, the girls sensuously shed their robes, standing revealed in nearly invisible bikinis that left nothing of their sleek, well-conditioned young bodies concealed. Rene smiled proudly at the approval on the faces of the reporters, mentally adding up the value of all this free publicity and at the same time searching among the audience for-for what? She didn't know, she confessed to herself, shrugging, but she knew somehow that she would know when she found it. Or him.
Or her. Rene was famed for her sensitive, tasteful handling of the theme of Lesbian love and womanly eroticism, which, in fact, was the theme of her new film, in which the two girls now parading for the photographers starred. Her outspoken defenses of bisexuality and Lesbianism had placed her in the vanguard of the new breed of film makers, and her fearless honesty about her own allegedly Lesbian lifestyle made her a controversial as well as mysteriously attractive figure.
And enigmatic she was. There was an indefinable something about the precociously mature young French woman that set her apart, cast about her an invisible cloak of aloof dignity, of all-seeing honesty, and at the same time something furtive, too, something concealed and hidden. It was this mysterious quality of intrigue that made her films special, outdrawing at the box-office films by other, older, more widely known film makers. And it was this enigmatic something, this mysterious but compelling charisma that had drawn many of the reporters to her loft that afternoon.
But the reporters were gone now, all but one of them, a late-comer, and as she and Rene sat talking quietly in the intimacy of the huge studio, the setting Manhattan sun cast a fading pinkish glow over them both, bathing them and the room in a rosy, almost romantic hue.
The last reporter was Kathy, a 30ish reporter from a California women's magazine, sun-bronzed and vibrantly alive, who had gotten into New York late and had caught only the tail-end of the interview. When the session broke up she had sought out Rene, explained the situation and asked the younger woman if she might be so kind as to extend the interview a while longer, just the two of them, so that Kathy might have enough material for her article. Surveying the California reporter's tanned good looks surreptiously. Rene had smilingly agreed, proposing that Kathy stay along with her two models until time for the festival's grand opening that night. The four of them could go to the opening together. Surprised at this unexpected exclusive interview, Kathy had agreed anxiously to Rene's invitation, and now the two sat lounging on a sofa, the remains of their coffee and cake littering the coffee table, while in the shadows Rene's two nearly nude young models talked quietly between themselves.
"... So you mean to say, Rene," said Kathy quietly, "that you feel that your own femininity is the basis for all the eroticism in your films?"
"Not my femininity, dear." replied the film maker, her eyes fixed on the lovely, fresh-faced older woman's good looks." My womanhood. The essence of woman is not at all feminine. We're much more aggressive, you know, much more-how do you say?-Earthy in our needs, our desires, throughout all time, women have been considered he essence of all life and all sexuality, from Eve to the ancient Romans. And the Hindus ... look at their whole culture's attitudes towards women as the essence of sexuality! Look at their magnificient stone sculptures with their naked couples fucking, and their women!-Big-busted, heavy-assed, sexual as hell. Yes, woman. You and I both know that we are more earthy than we're told, we women, that we are far more demanding, far more lusty than we usually dare admit. At least," she added silkily, moving subtly closer to the long-legged reporter on the couch, "except to another woman." And she ran her eye surreptiously up the fine line of Kathy's sleek thigh where it showed from beneath her long, clinging skirt and high boots, wondering in her mind what the woman would look like naked. Rene intended to find out.
Kathy was obviously fascinated by the conversation, and excited by it, though Rene observed that she was trying to conceal it. "Then, Rene," she said, her lips parting slightly, her eyes widening, "your films with Lesbian scenes are an attempt to show primal lust, to show something essential and usually suppressed between women?"
Rene smiled, seeing that Kathy was falling rapidly into place with her plans for the afternoon. "Yes, Kathy dear, what I'm trying to show with scenes like the ones with those two gorgeous young girls over there...." She indicated her two models in the shadows, lost in their own whispered conversation. " ... Is that there is, in all women, and especially in women who have reached a certain sexual maturity, a deep and primal need for another woman, for the sexual fulfillment and sexual ecstasy that can only be found in the loving touch of another woman, can only be found in the hot flesh of another female." Kathy blushed involuntarily, and Rene continued smoothly on, knowing that she was fanning the other woman's suppressed arousal.
"You know, Kathy, only a woman can truly know another woman's body, only a woman can really understand what a woman experiences sexually, can really feel what the woman she is making love to is feeling." Kathy blushed still deeper, her arousal obvious in the flush if her cheeks and the oh-so-subtle parting of her long, sinuous thighs beneath her skirt. Rene licked her lips slyly; everything was going perfectly. Soon she would have this one nude and ready, begging for it in fact-She had known that this was what she'd been wanting, the moment Kathy approached her for the interview. And now it was only a matter of time before this obviously ripe woman discovered her own bisexuality-with, Rene reminded herself warmly, "a little help from her friends".
"And why shouldn't we find other women beautiful?" asked Rene. "After all, men find us beautiful, so why should men be able to see something that we can't? Surely we should look as beautiful to each other as we do to men. And we are beautiful, Kathy. Look at yourself, for instance."
The Californian reporter blushed again, suddenly all too aware of her own sexuality, all too aware of the sexuality of the woman next to her, the woman whose casual, liberated words were releasing within her a lifetime of pent-up thoughts and repressed desires. And she was all too aware of the cool Continental poise of the beautiful French woman, all too aware of her attractively slender physique through her clingy, braless sweater and her tight hip-hugging jeans. But she had no time for thought. Rene's eyes were on her, and the woman was speaking again, her soft, low accent caressing Kathy's ears like a long-awaited kiss...." And you are beautiful, Kathy, you know that? Your eyes, so crystal blue, like a clean lake. You long blonde hair, see how it cascades in tumbles to your chest. Look at your breasts, Kathy, how firm and proud they are, and your body-so slender, so youthful, so athletically trim. Your legs are long, gracefully sleek, your waist so slim, your hips flaring so nicely. Did you ever model, my dear?"
Kathy shook her head, trying to clear it. "N-ono, I never modeled. I've been offered opportunities a couple of times, but I never took them up." And involuntarily her eyes shot to Rene's sleek young models, conversing quietly in the shadows, their nearly nude bodies lounging gracefully in the rosy sunset light.
Rene noticed the direction of her eyes, realized what Kathy did not-that the woman was lusting after the girls, seeing in their youthful beauty and hot young bodies her own youth, her own beauty, by no means faded. Rene decided to play her next card. "Then, tell me, Kathy dear, how do you keep yourself in such-such luscious shape?"
Kathy seemed not to have heard the adjective Rene used, or seemed not to have been bothered by its connotations. "I-I dance," she said. "Ballet. I studied three years. I was going to be a professional until I was offered this assignment as a writer. But I still dance sometimes."
Rene's face lit up, feigning surprise. "Really? Why, I love the ballet. Could you-could you do a little for me? It's been so long since I've seen good dancing, and I would so love to see you. I'm sure you're very good. Wouldn't we like to see her, girls?" The two girls stepped forward from the shadows, adding their unanimous approval to Rene's plan.
Faced with such unanimous acclaim, Kathy had to consent. Rising a bit self-consciously, she apologised for not having brought the proper clothing, adding that the effect of the dance would be largely spoiled by her street clothing.
With perfect timing, Rene stepped in and caught her cue. "My dear, please feel free to remove your clothing if it bothers you. In my house, there is complete freedom, and each of us does as she pleases. Isn't that so, girls?"
The two enthusiastically agreed, their slender young bodies with their slim, apple-shaped breasts resplendent in the twilight, their faces aglow with anticipation. They knew their friend and employer well enough by now to know what she was up to, to know what came next, and to know what part they were to play.
Kathy hesitated. "Well, I-"
"Oh, go on, my dear," purred Rene smoothly. "After all, nothing should stand in the way of art. No? And besides, Kathy dear, there is-how do you say?-there is nobody here but us girls." And she laughed, showing white teeth and a gleam in her dark French eyes.
Kathy hesitated a moment longer, then gave in, feeling a tingle of excitement as she bent to remove her knee-high boots, slipping them off and pulling her clingy black sweater over her head to expose her small, youthful, but generous breasts encased in a sheer bra. Next came her skirt, and the blonde reporter felt all eyes on her as she slowly inched the garment down off her hips, down her sleek thighs and let it fall at last to the floor, revealing her in bra and skimpy panties, which revealed the top of her blonde pubic triangle and the dimpled beginning of her ass crack. The ripe melons of her buttocks were creased by the elastic band. Then, hesitating, and then scolding herself for her childish timidity, she stripped off in one quick motion the confining bra, peeling off the tight panties at the same time. And then she stood nude in the studio, three sets of female eyes enjoying the admiring her trim, beautifully conditioned dancer's body, tanned and healthy from life under the California sun.
And then, in the silence of the dimly lit studio, she began to dance. Slowly, sensuously, she began to improvise her own choreography, her nudity resplendent and classically graceful in the hazy light, her slowly moving limbs etherally beautiful in the surreal atmosphere of the darkening studio.
At first she moved slowly, self-consciously, uncomfortably aware of her nudity in front of these three beautiful and disturbingly desirable women, but as her improvisation began to build and her movements began to transport her once again into the magic world of the dance, she found herself being caught up in the irresistible spell of her own softly moving body, her uneasiness and uncomfortable new sensations of tension forgotten in the trance of her motions. And as she began to gain confidence in the beauty of her dancing, she noted the faces of the others, read in them appreciation and approval of her nude movements, reading also the excitement that was on each of their faces as she danced closer to them.
Kathy's body radiated excitement now as she felt her movements involuntarily quickening, felt her body responding instinctively to the familiar patterns of the ballet. Her breasts alternately swayed and grew taut as her arms described graceful arcs over her head, her thighs rippled with slim muscles as she flexed her long, curvaceous legs, her buttocks swayed and swung invitingly with the gyrations of her pelvis. Her abdomen moved like a belly dancer's with the improvised rhythms of her dance, and her hair tumbled loose and cascaded down her slender back, falling disheveled over one eye, giving a primitive, untamed look to the dancing woman.
And within her, Kathy felt the nature of her dancing change, losing its subtle and polished refinements, gaining a more basic, more primal tone as she continued to dance closer to the admiring three who had closed into a semicircle to watch her. At first her dancing had been all ballet, the ornamental moves and gestures of the arms and hands to which she had been trained, but as a rising tide of excitement gripped her, she felt the nature of her dancing shifting, felt a new and earthv heat take possession of her moving limbs, felt a slowly burning fire building in her torso, creeping from the heated base of her loins throughout her body, to her ass, her breasts, her throat, all of her ... all of her moving body, naked and afire.
With shock, Kathy realized that this was a sexual excitement, that the admittedly erotic potential of this situation-she alone, nude, dancing excitedly for the pleasure of these three highly sexed, bisexual women-was turning her on in a wav she had never expected. And before she could think further, the fever of the dance was upon her. gripping and seizing her hot body like one possessed, and from them on, she knew that whatever happened, happened, and she yielded herself to any possibility.
Lewdly open now, Kathy felt herself becoming a creature of hot and wanton abandon, her ass and thighs flexing lewdly, her pelvis thrusting and rhythmically grinding for the pleasure of the three women. Slowly she felt her hands running inch by inch down her body, caressing her shoulders and heated breasts and naked abdomen till at last they found the blonde triangle of her lubricating cuntal bush, and with inner surprise Kathy felt her fingers slowly parting the lips there, exposing the wetly glistening wonders of her excited pussy to the widening eyes of the three Lesbians. Her hips thrust her cunt out at them in clear invitation. A raging fever gripped her, sending her mind reeling, and like a drunken woman Kathy began to writhe ever faster, her earlier dancing now forgotten in the frenzy of her new, sensuously erotic dance. A writhing, thrusting, obscenely exciting belly dance that spoke clearly to Rene and the girls of the readiness of this young woman whose bisexuality Rene had so carefully discovered, cultivated and then revealed until at last, in the athletic heat of her dance, her inner desires had broken free and taken over, bringing the dazed blonde to the threshold of an erotic awakening.
Rene, watching from the couch, licked her lips in triumphant satisfaction as she watched Kathy writhing in lusty invitation before them, reading in her face the mixed uncertainty and need, knowing what a turmoil the older woman's sensation and lust-flooded mind must be in. Kathy's eyes were glazed with desire, her mind reeling and her brain dazzled by the intensity of her never before realized lust, and all these things were plain to the experienced, jaded film maker as she lounged on the couch, her manicured hands idly caressing her braless breasts through the thin fabric of her sweater.
Tina and Louise moved towards her, whispered into her ear. Rene nodded. Then Louise sat down on the couch beside Rene, her legs spread wide to reveal the heavenly shadowed glory of her cuntal hair beneath her wispy gown. Rene's hand strayed to the girl's thigh, slowly, casually inching its way up the naked flesh towards the teenager's naked cunt, and the girl's hand in turn went slowly to Rene's cheek as both stared spellbound at the scene before them, at the naked and lewdly grinding pubic bush and bouncing tanned breasts of the girl whose arousal they had all had a hand in preparing.
Kathy's mind reeled with the drunken rapture of her dance and the anticipatory excitement of the sexual action she sensed instinctively was to come, but through the haze of her exertions and her newly released lusts a part of her rebelled, horrified at the wantonness of the two on the couch before her, shocked by the obscene excitement of her own teasing motions as she writhed and shimmied for them. But a second wave of fever, more intense this time and more urgently powerful, swept through the tremblingly aroused young woman, and all thoughts of inhibitions were forgotten in the pleasure of the moment. She only wished, breathlessly, that she, too could feel fondling hands and snaking tongues as Rene was feeling them on the couch.
And then Louise rose from behind the couch, walking slowly, sensuously towards the slowly dancing woman, ignoring the two behind her, and stared lustfully at the heated blonde. With a listless shrug she shed her gauzy robe, standing revealed in the lithe beauty of her slim breasts and slender, angular hips, her sleek thighs and boyish buttocks, her long black hair flowing silky down her back to her waist, her deep blue eyes fixed hungrily on the waiting Kathy, their naked bodies only inches away, their eyes locked in a heat of passion.
Kathy felt a hand on her cheek, a cool, youthful hand, caressing her hot body, and she stopped dancing to stand, swaying drunkenly, and let the youth touch her. Kathy's eyes closed as her body responded hungrily to the Lesbian's touch, and she felt first a hand on her cheek, then a hand tracing its way down her neck and throat and breast to the firm mound of her enlarged and swollen nipple, its large tan nub sensitive and aroused. Then there was a mouth on the nipple, hot, warm, enveloping, and Kathy surrendered herself to pleasure as she felt the girl's other hand circling around to her buttocks, gripping, cupping and kneading the ripe fruit-like ass cheeks in her slender hands.
"Ooohh ... Ohhhh," was all she could manage as she felt the youth's tongue tracing down the length of her abdomen, snaking its way down the creamy texture of her naked front and swooping unexpectedly into her navel there, hollowing out a hot wet haven for itself, before continuing on down towards her pubic triangle, and the wet delights below.
Kathy reeled drunkenly, supported only by the girl's hands steadying her ass cheeks, her mind totally awash in erotic pleasures that she had never before dreamed existed. The lovemaking skill of this Lesbian Louise was an entirely new universe to the blonde reporter, a world of sensation she had hoped for but never dared to admit to herself, much less to anyone else. And it felt good, so good as the girl tongued her.
"Oh," she gasped hoarsely, her throat dry with desire. "If only-if only this could last forever-"
The slender Manhattan model looked up, her lips wet with the juices of Kathy's cunt, and she regarded the dazed woman. "It will, honey, it will," she said, her seventeen-year old voice oddly soft and strangely knowledgeable. "For you it will. We three, tonight, are only the beginning." She turned back to the dusky blonde cunt of the woman whose staggering body she supported, took another slurp that brought a gasp of joy from Kathy. "And," Louise added, "what a beginning this is!"
Hungrily she reapplied herself, her practiced tongue snaking in and out of the older woman's cunt with trained and experienced skill. Each new flick of her hot pink tongue against Kathy's heated clitoris brought gasps and sighs from the increasingly lusty woman, and with a grin of satisfaction, Louise sucked the enlarged clit into her mouth, sending spasms of excitement and unbearable suspense through the groggy reporter.
"Don't stop," she begged, her feverish hands clutching the girl's head desperately to her open crotch. "Please don't stop. It feels-it feels so damned good," she gasped, and then sank to her knees, unable to stand any longer amid the dizzying waves of sensation coursing up through her, from her hot loins.
"Yes, yes it does feel good, doesn't it?" This time it was Tina's sultry husky voice that Kathy heard. Moments later a second pair of hands joined Louise's on her hot and aching breasts, and through groggy lids Kathy saw the taller, slender girl pressing her head to her sensitive nipples, taking a sensitive nub between her teeth and nipping lightly, sending shivers of desire thrilling through the lust-drugged Kathy.
"And this will feel ever better," said Tina meaningfully, and before Kathy knew it, the seventeen-year old had displaced Louise, sending the other girl to stroke Kathy's feverish cheeks and tongue her ears as Tina positioned herself in front of Kathy. Their naked bodies pressing against each other, their tongues mingling in the hot cavern of their joined mouths, unthinkingly Kathy tongued her back. Her eyes closed and her senses staggered as she felt herself exploring with her dainty pink tongue the steaming interior of the other girl's mouth, feeling the soft upper palate with its ticklish ridges, the hardnesses of her smooth white teeth, the hot writhing wetness of her tongue, the soft succulence of the other girl's lips against hers.
And then Kathy felt herself being pushed firmly backwards, gently forced to the floor on her back, her legs opened and her arms reaching hungrily up for embrace and support. And then she felt it. Tina placed both hands on her hips, tugging Kathy's lust-gorged thighs and open pelvis upward against her, and ground her hot loins against the woman's pussy opening, their clitorises rubbing frantically against one another with their mutual rising desire. Sparks of electric desire shot through Kathy's loins at this new sensation, and eagerly she wrapped her thighs tight about the other girl's, hips, encouraging her to clit-fuck her harder, faster, never to stop.
"Oh, sweet fucking." she gasped. "I never thought it could be good like this with a woman, I never knew it could-could-aaahhh-could be so damned fantastic. God, T-Tina, your clit against my clit-your cunt rubbing like that against mine-It feels so good, so hot, so hard ... and I'm so-aaahhh-so wet!" She gasped, sobbing with passion now as the two girl's efforts brought her to the threshold of orgasm. And she tightened even more her thigh-lock about the thrusting Tina.
Louise stroked Kathy's breasts now, mouthing and massaging the twin fleshy globes, her Manhattan pallor contrasting sharply with the healthy Californian good looks of the woman beneath her. This contrast turned the girl on, as she cupped and stroked the hot and quivering flesh. But seeing that her partner was initiating a new cuntal stage in their mutual seduction of the thirty-year old reporter, Louise wanted some of the action, too. In seconds, she had positioned herself straddling Kathy's naked form, her slim but well-formed seventeen-year old breasts dangling just over Kathy's mouth, their lush weights tantalizing the woman, who lay moaning helplessly, frenziedly beneath Tina's clit-thrusts. Her mind was blown by the sensations the two had shown her, her inhibitions totally shattered and her sobbing, lust-wracked body with its years of repressed desires now ready for anything, anything at all that these two devilishly libidinous girls might have in store for her.
"Mmmmm, that's good, Tina. God, what a little cuntsucker you are," gasped Louise, easing her out-thrust ass cheeks and cuntal opening into the straining face of her fellow model. The Lesbian girl fucked ever deeper into Kathy's ravaged loins with her unusually developed clitoris. With her tits suspended inches over the moaning Kathy's face and her cunt getting a lavish licking, dog-style, from the orally talented Tina, Louise was moaning in ecstasy, and thrust her hips back further against the squirming, writhing tongue of the other Lesbian.
Seized with a surge of lust and the spasm of a mini-orgasm, Louise threw herself impulsively forward, pressing her weighty lush breasts into the open mouth of the mindless Kathy, tossing her waist-length black hair from side to side with the thrill of the woman's tongue sucking greedily at her proffered tits. Her wet mouth was making shameless sucking noises as she strained to take in as much of the black-haired girl's breasts as possible.
With a sigh, Louise sat back, pulling her breasts reluctantly out of the reach of the disappointed Kathy, then bent down to press her lips against the women's eagerly awaiting tongue. Kathy kissed back passionately, hungrily, her body crying out its Lesbian needs to the two girls as they kissed, sucked and clit-fucked her towards orgasm. Her mind whirled madly with an erotic kaleidoscope of dancing visions: Tina fucking her clit with her own enlarged organ, Louise's slender hands massaging her throbbing breasts and suckling her greedily tonguing mouth, Tina's face buried in the hot depths of Louise's out-thrust cunt, Tina's fingers inching their way into Kathy's squirming rectum from beneath. And, through it all, the rising tide of her approaching orgasm, the ever-nearing bombblast of her coming.
"Oh ooohhh," she moaned, tossing her head from side to side frenziedly beneath the two girls. "That's so good ... you're both so good! God, what you're doing to me! I never-never-aaahhh-I-I never dreamed that it-ooooh, suck my titty harder, there, Louise, sweet Louise, yes! Yes, tongue me faster. God, yes, I'm about to come. You've got me ready to come, soon, soon, oh YESSS! she cried, her body and her lust-filled mind totally in their power, near the breaking point from the erotic ministrations of the two sexual professionals. "YES! Tina, don't stop fucking me. Please don't stop fucking my clit! Fuck me harder, harder. Yes, like that, your furry bush grinding against mine, your clit throbbing against mine, ready to explode together! God, you feel so big. I've never felt a clit so big before. I never knew they existed! Almost like-almost like a small cock," she gasped. "Oooohhh, yes, keep at me, Tina, keep at me. I'm almost there! Almost there with both of you! Mmmm, your finger feels so good in my ass. Yes, deeper like that. YES! Yes, yes, God, yes, and your tongue-Louise your tongue is so-aaa-AAAHHHH-so good. So fucking good against my mouth, your hot hands on my steaming hot breasts, my cunt so full, so about to explode. God it's so great fucking with women!"
"I'm-I'M COMMINGGG! she shrieked, thrashing her hips madly beneath the thrusting Tina, struggling insanely beneath the girl's combined weight as a bolt of searing white-hot orgasm electrified her, filling her with heat and sound and pounding need as she poured out her love juices, her throbbing clit spasming once, twice, thrice against the swollen clit of the girl above her, her nipples tensing in Louise's mouth, her body heaving beneath orgasms that wracked her as if a Lesbian hurricane were in her pounding veins. And she came, and came, and came, and came, never ending, each new wave cresting only to be caught up in another, greater wave of orgasm, until the coming was almost like torture, her brain straining to encompass the white-heat of voltage shooting through it, until her ravished exhausted body screamed for mercy, her mind decimated and demolished beneath the onslaught of unbearable pleasure, until it seemed to the dazed and still writhing girl that she could take no more.
Abruptly she was quiet, and lay still beneath the two girls, each lost in their own orgasms, brought on by the explosive orgasms and lewd talk of the woman below them, the woman they had both gone to such effort to seduce and make theirs, using their skilled bodies and experienced tongues, cunts and hands to bring her into a new world of bisexual pleasure.
Moments later they subsided, relaxing together atop the inert body of the reporter and dancer, her face peaceful and relaxed in her pillow of exertion-dampened blonde hair. As the two came to, they noticed the strange, panting silence of their partner/victim, the subsiding rise and fall of her heaving breasts and the twitching feel of her post-orgasmic cunt, the only indications that the woman was still alive.
"Kathy?"
With a shock, the two seventeen-year olds realized that their thirty-year old playmate was unconscious, that she had actually fainted beneath their erotic onslaught. An intoxicating pride in their own prowess swept over them as they realized what they had done-that they had actually, alone and unaided, fucked a woman into unconsciousness! And the two embraced affectionately, their tired tongues mingling gently in a fond, almost sisterly embrace.
But not alone, after all. As the two kissed atop the inert and lust-drained blonde, her limp and voluptuous body serving them as a hot, moist, alive cushion, as they tongued and caressed each other's rapidly rekindling passions, they were oblivious of the presence of their silently watching mistress Rene, or of the curious smile that played about the beautiful French woman's features as the whirring of her portable camera caught it all from behind the privacy of the all-enveloping shadows, quietly recording it all. Everything!
CHAPTER FOUR
Mona Reymond's hotel suite was immense, luxurious, palatial, and the nervous young college boy named Babe felt awed and uneasy in the plush rooms through which he was being shown. He had come that afternoon in answer to an invitation from Mona Reymond, to audition for her studios. The invitation had been carefully worded so as to impress the young part-time porn performer with what it really was-a summons.
Mona Reymond was the name in porn films around the world, and she was the unquestioned mistress of a global film empire, a millionairess many times over who had done it all alone, with only her shrewd financial expertise and keen insight into the sexual demands of the public. She was a woman used to getting her way. And even if her name was not one whispered with awe in porn studios all over the world, Babe would still have answered the invitation. A contract, or even a chance at a contract with Reymond Eros Studios was the dream of every aspiring young porn performer in the country. In the world, even. Her studios were located in London, Paris, Hammelburg, and Naples as well as San Francisco and here in Babe's Manhattan.
Rumors and whispers told of how every year she flew into New York from wherever she had been, to catch the Erotic Film Festival, requisitioning prints of all the erotic films to be shown there and viewing them privately, here in her luxurious suite, screening and selecting those performers who struck her fancy. Then she summoned them here for private auditions and interviews. Babe only hoped that he could make the grade.
Nervously he took a seat on the plush, overstuffed sofa in the living room, accepting the tea and cake proffered by the butler. He watched him withdraw, carefully pulling the French doors to behind him, leaving Babe alone in the sensuous room with its crystal chandeliers, soft, overstuffed furniture and immense white shag rug of some rich furry something. He looked about the room, hoping his nervousness and inexperience were not too obvious, carefully nursing the portfolio of film stills and credits that he had brought with him. Somewhere an expensive grandfather clock struck the time: four-thirty p.m.
As if on cue, Mona Reymond breezed in, her 30ish body flawlessly attired in a luxurious flowing house obe of white velvet, her long auburn hair piled gracefully atop her head in the latest Parisian fashion. She gracefully extended a hand to Babe.
He could not help but notice that for a somewhat older woman, she was certainly in good shape, the body beneath her flowing, clingy robe hinting at curvaceous, ripened beauty. He could not be sure, but he felt an odd tingling deep in the base of his loins when he realized that she was not wearing any bra.
"Well, Mister Haskins," she began, consulting her appointment book, "you're a little late, but no matter. See that it doesn't happen again. Now then, do they call you William or Babe?"
He flushed, despising his real first name. "Babe, Ma'am."
"Very well, then. Babe. Now then, give me your portfolio." He handed it to her and she flipped through it casually, leafing through the pages of photographic stills. Impatiently, she snapped the folder shut and tossed it down on the coffee table between them.
"What makes you think you're Reymond Studios material, Babe?"
He stammered, caught off balance by her crisp efficiency, and surprised by the no-nonsense aggressiveness of this crystal bright, crystal hard businesswoman.
"Well, I-" he began.
"Strip," she said.
Babe stared at her for a moment, stunned. "But-but what about the interview? I mean, what about all the questions? Aren't you going to ask me about my experience, about my list of credits, about which kind of things I-"
"All the questions I need answered, I can answer myself. I don't give a damn what you've done in the past, I want to know what you're capable of now. Portfolios and photographs and resumes don't mean anything to me, boy, and you'd better realize that right now. The only thing I care about, I'm going to learn in a moment. Now strip, and make it quick. I'm a busy woman."
Stunned, Babe fumbled off his shirt, peeled off his jeans and shorts to stand before her nude, his tanned body muscular and lean. He watched as Mona Reymond eyed him appraisingly.
"Hmmmm ... not a bad chest, good arms, legs good, hair too long, we'll fix that ... good color ... smite-All right, good teeth, good face-profile-no, no, fool, the other way ... all right, profile all right. Turn around ... back all right, good broad shoulders, tapering to thin waist ... nice hard tight buttocks, squeezable. All right, turn around again. Let's see your cock."
Babe did as he was told, feeling like a prized stud being sold at market, which, he supposed, in a way he was. Still, there was something strangely uncomfortable about the brightness in her eyes as she examined him, the glow in her face and the slight smile of enjoyment on her lips as she measured and estimated and assessed him with her keen, all-seeing eyes. He faced round and the producer bent further forward, her eyes running over every inch of his dormant but massive cock and the heavy sack of balls dangling beneath it. As he turned around, his great, famously photogenic whang dangled alluringly for a moment, like a thick, meaty pendulum of promising male flesh, and for a second the uncertain college boy thought he saw the producer lick her lips.
"Hmmmmm...." she pondered, leaning still closer to his cock, examining it on all sides, for this was the most essential portion of him that she was going to buy. "Good color, I suppose ... pubic hair a bit too dense, have to weed it out some, in Make Up ... Balls good and big ... thickness good," she said, measuring his diameter with her thumb and ringed forefinger. "But I can't tell about the length, yet!" she added, taking him suddenly into her mouth. This was an unexpected new development, and Babe had no time to consider the implications of this attractive, dominating businesswoman's actions. He was awash in a wave of sensation being given him by the experienced, seasoned tongue of the older woman. Her tongue and lips worked expertly on his dormant cock, and before her eyes it began to swell and lengthen, rapidly burgeoning to its full length under her loving encouragements, and only when she was sure that he had grown to his full length did she pop him from her mouth and lean back to examine the organ from the proper perspective.
"Hmmm! Length good. That's quite a tool you have there, Babe. Congratulations, I can understand how you got into porn, but this is the big time you're auditioning for now, and just having a big one doesn't mean anything. It's what you can do with it," she said, and stood up again, facing him eye to eye. In a flash she had shrugged her houserobe off, standing nude before him, her trim youthful body waiting impatiently. "Now let's see what you can do with it."
Before the stunned youth could reply, she had positioned herself on all fours on the furry carpeting, presenting the full white moons of her ripe buttocks to him. "Well, come on!" she said impatiently. "Don't stand there wasting time. If you want a place with Reymond Pictures, you're going to have to prove yourself capable of mastering any situation as a performer. And, Babe, that means proving to me that you're better than any of a thousand other willing studs that I could hire. Now get to it!"
Seeing no way out, and still baffled at the suddenness of this command performance, Babe knelt as she had ordered, bringing his hard cock to bear against the cuntal opening of his prospective employer's brazenly out-thrust ass. She was tight and relatively unaroused, but her vaginal lips gave promise of generous interior size, and through his limited experience so far, the boy suspected that the older woman would be wet and ready in moments. He was surprised when she turned around, impatience in her hard eyes, and seized his tool, brutally thrusting it into her depths, working her ass determinedly against him until, agonizingly, he was in.
Only then did Mona Reymond begin to lubricate and relax, and as she did, it seemed to Babe that he had never known such an experienced, practiced cunt in all his short career. Immediately she began to milk him, her pussy muscles working in cooperation to caress and squeeze the entire length of his rigid young shaft, rhythmically massaging its imbedded hardness with determination and ruthlessness. Brutally she thrust back against him, thrusting in wordless, panting silence as his hips ground against the soft lips of her contracting cuntal muscles and the fleshy globes of her backthrust buttocks. The scent of her female heat began to permeate the room as they joined, the tart tanginess of her wafting back to the increasingly aroused young boy, who despite the nervousness and stage-struck uneasiness began to warm to his task. The sight and smell and sensation of the undeniably erotic yet coldly demanding woman who thrust herself impatiently back at him urged the youthful young aspirant deeper into her with every motion of her heaving, well-conditioned body.
Babe shifted his weight to his knees, seizing Mona's hips to pull the woman backwards towards him, striving to get a solid grip on her to slow her down and postpone the rising orgasm which he felt her brewing deep in his balls. But to his surprise, she. turned on him, slapped his hands away and snarled: "I'm in command here. You don't touch me, you don't speak to me unless I order it. You're on trial here, and this fuck is your entrance exam to Reymond Studios. This is your audition, stud, understand? Is that clear?"
Babe nodded, flushed and embarrassed at this unexpected rebuke from this woman who held his career in her hands, this woman who somehow made him feel like such a little boy.
"That's better," she said. "Now get out of me, roll over and take me from the front, missionary style. Now!"
There was no disobeying that cold, steel-hard voice, and Babe quickly complied, waiting till she had repositioned herself on her back, her thighs opening for him and her arms placed casually behind her head, waiting for him to remount.
He did, sinking swiftly home into the steaming fuck-hole of the powerful producer, his cock again pounding with excitement at the lithe, self-assured arrogance of this woman, the brisk business-like vitality that he realized she brought to all her activities-especially her "auditionings".
Babe had no further time for reflection, for Mona Reymond instantly became a wildcat, clawing and bucking beneath him like a spitting, raging tigress, forcing the bewildered Babe to cling to her for dear life or be thrown out of her and away.
"All our actresses aren't tame little pussycats," she hissed, thrashing her hips to throw him, and clawing viciously across his muscled chest. "Some of them pride themselves on their bitchiness. You've got to be able to ride the worst of them and made it look good for the camera. The audiences love a good rape scene," she said, bucking harder. "And you can just bet those won't be an easy ride! Now show me you can rate me, stud," she said, and as she spoke gave a massive, well-timed upheaval of her strong thighs and muscular abdomen, nearly throwing the tightly clutching teenager across the room. By a miracle he stayed on, her bucking subsiding and turning instead to a tight, grinding squeezing of his trapped cock by her well-trained cuntal muscles, flexing about his rigidly imbedded pole of flesh and wracking the lust-swollen organ as if in some hotly steaming vise.
Babe felt pain blend with his pleasure as her obscene auditioning continued, and through the daze of sensations he realized that this painful gripping of his thrusting cock was the next stage in her endurance contest. This dominating businesswoman was testing him for his ability to perform under stress and discomfort, to see whether he could still function in a distracting situation. Well, thought Babe, gritting his teeth and taking a firmer grip on her writhing, churning flanks, I'm gonna do my damnedest, Ms. Reymond! And the straining teenager thrust even harder into her meat-grinder loins.
Mona stopped it as abruptly as it had begun, noting with a certain professional admiration the newfound determination she saw in the youth's eye as he thrust into her. Dismissing the exercise, she released her vicious cuntal strangle-hold on Babe's pinioned cock, shoving him abruptly off her and rising to her feet with all the athletic grace of a panther. "All right," she said, hands on hips as she surveyed the sweating, panting, somewhat baffled youth at her feet. "Time for your next exam, stud. On your feet."
Babe complied, wondering groggily what her next demand would be, wondering, too, how much longer he could continue to hold out against her overwhelming erotic onslaught, how long he could fight off both approaching orgasm and total exhaustion.
"Now, Babe, cup my ass here. Here," she said, impatiently seizing his hands, placing them under the ripe melons of her ass and locking his hands together to support her weight. The next thing Babe knew she had thrown her lithe young thighs around his waist, locking them at the calves as if shinning up a tree trunk, and thrown all her weight onto him, forcing him to lift her from the ass in order to remain standing. Her arms locked about his neck and broad, straining back, her breath hot against his ear, her tongue wet and sending floods of tingling sensation throughout his body.
Mona pressed her naked body against the boy's, her hot breasts rubbing back and forth against his heaving, muscled chest, their lush weights dragging the erect nipples back and forth teasingly against his own nipples as she tongued expertly in his ear. Her thighs gripped his slim hips tenaciously, and her exquisitely trained cuntal muscles maneuvered until she was poised properly for what she had in mind. Babe felt only the swimming sensations of her tonguing and the indescribable sensations of her breasts rubbing against him, and the full ripeness of her mature breasts as her full weight pressed them down against his supporting hands. And so, the dazed youth did not expect what happened next.
Mona's hips and belly squirmed against his tightly muscled lower abdomen as she readied herself to impale her pussy on the boy's out-thrust cock pole, rubbing her steaming, sweat-drenched bush against his light pubic ringlets. Her lips fused hungrily, demandingly to his, and she raked her long manicured nails cruelly down his back, the savage lust of a predatory animal consuming her.
With a snarl, she thrust her pelvis up and over his waiting prick and lowered herself brutally, urgently down onto his upthrusting cock, her superiorly experienced pussy-lips clutching the swollen head in a vise-like grip of brutal need. Babe felt himself swaying drunkenly beneath the swarm of sensations she gave him then, staggering dazed with the heavy load of the commanding producer in his arms, the electric charge of sexual arousal and domination she was subjecting him to turning his body ablaze. Babe's twenty-year old mind reeled as the jaded producer intensified her fucking, manipulating his entrapped cock to fuck herself with it, her nails digging ever more brutally into his back.
But Babe did not notice the pain, did not notice the look of predatory hunger and gloating on the older woman's face as she watched eagerly the effect of her fuckings. Babe felt only the rising tide of excitement within him, a tide of pleasure and electric tension that he knew was leading quickly, inevitably to his orgasm. The boy forgot that he was auctioning for a contract to act in sex films, forgot that his every move, every thrust, every sigh was being coolly and professionally evaluated. Forgot that the woman who seemed to welcome his frenzied, ever quickening thrusts, was a total stranger, a brutally demanding stranger who was testing him the way she might test any other merchandise she was about to buy. He forgot everything except the feel of her cunt on his cock, her steaming depths wrapped about his hot and swelling meat, her expert thrusts and skillful tonguing that was driving him helplessly, inexorably towards his finish, and forgot everything except the heat at the base of his loins, the building pressure in his ready, sperm-swollen balls, the tingling electricity mounting in his come-heavy sack. The need to come....
"That's right, stud," she whispered breathlessly into his ear. "Come, come, let it go! Come on, Babe. You know you want it! Want to feel it gushing from you, exploding from you, firing from you like a great mighty volcano! Come on, my cuntfucking volcano of a man. Come! Shoot! Explode! I want you to, Babe! Want you to shoot now! Now! NOW!" she hissed, and, for effect, dug her finger ruthlessly up his tight and unviolated asshole, jerked it out with an erotically unbearable pop.
Babe could stand it no more. "I'm-I'm-Oh, God, I'm-I'M COOMMMIINNNGGGG! GOD, M-M-MONA, I'M SHOOTING! I'M FIRING DEEP-SO-SO DEEP-AAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHH! UUUUNNNGGGHHH! he roared, and thrust his spewing cock like a piston into her steaming hole, as great jet after jet of red-hot come exploded like mighty upheavals from his long-suffering cock, its torture forgotten in the ecstasy of long-awaited release.
Babe slowly subsided, his thrusts slowing and his cock beginning ever so subtly to dwindle as his stream diminished first to a slight flow and then to an ooze and then a dribble. Feeling the youth begin to totter under her weight, Mona slid wordlessly out of his hands, unlocking her legs and leaving a trail of hot sperm down his thigh where her come-filled pussy touched him.
Released of the need to support the older, oddly silent producer, Babe sunk to his knees, drained and exhausted from the demanding command performance to which he had just been subjected, weary and spent from the mammoth orgasm that had been building for so long, denied so long, and was now released at last. Babe collapsed from his knees to the floor, sighing as he sank into the rich furry softness of the luxurious carpet. After a moment, he opened his groggy eyes again, looked dazedly up at the face of his prospective employer, this domineering businesswoman whose ripe and eager cunt he had so quickly and so recently filled with his hot essence.
And then Babe realized that he had been tricked.
Mona Reymond's face was a mask of disgust and contempt. She looked down on him with obvious disappointment and obvious pity, her beautifully cruel features twisted into a scornful frown as she surveyed his panting, exhausted body and his dwindling, now shrunken cock, glistening wetly with his spendings. With a sinking feeling, Babe suddenly realized that she had not wanted him to come, that he had not been intended to come, and that her lustful, whorish beggings for his sperm were just another test, a test to see what kind of stamina and willpower he possessed. And with a sulking of his gut, he realized that it was over had failed! The audition was ended.
Exhausted, drained, utterly vanquished, his youthful self-confidence shattered under the superior experience and control of this older woman, Babe sank back in despair. His eyes closed to shut out the sight of the luxurious hotel suite that had been his erotic Waterloo. "You-you win," he groaned. "I guess I'm not:-not Mona Reymond Studios material. I-I guess it's back to small time for me." His voice was filled with defeat. "Hell," he added, trying to joke, "I never dreamed this was what was demanded for the big time."
The woman executive looked down on the beaten youth, his beautiful, if inexperienced form, glistening with a fine film of sweat from their exertions. She felt an unexpected pity arising for the youth, and bent down to him, her cool hand resting against his hot and panting shoulders. She patted him on the back, consolingly ran her hand lightly, lingeringly down the small of his muscled back to his tapering, lithe young thigh, sun-bronzed and golden through its film of sweat. Really a beautiful body, she mused, her palm running playfully over the twin hard mounds of his compact buttocks. Really a beautiful boy. Such a shame.
"Better luck next time, kid," she said, and rose to her feet, oblivious to his inert and beaten form. Brushing her fuck-disheveled hair back into place, she slipped on her discarded house robe, pressed the intercom button and signalled the two footmen who entered to lift the naked youth, show him to his clothing and get him out. In seconds, the two were gone with their silent burden.
She consulted her appointment book and found three more aspirants, college girls looking for easy money and glamour in big time porn, had an afternoon appointment. Mona licked her lips with anticipation, group auditions were her favourite. She glanced at the book again, noting their names, and rang for the butler.
"Next?" she purred.
CHAPTER FIVE
Robert lay in bed at the luxurious hotel accommodations that Si! had provided, Ustening to Mara showering in the bathroom and marveling that the redheaded beauty had any desire at all to get up so early. She had risen in the pale Manhattan dawn, saying that she wanted to get a fresh start on seeing the city. Then Robert remembered that she had been to New York only once before in her twenty-two years, and then only when she was a child, so her eagerness to go exploring seemed a little more understandable to him. But reflecting on the events of the last 24 hours-his wild morning romp with Michelle back in Chicago, then that unexpected menage with the blonde stewardess Karin, and then on top of it all, the night of passion he had just finished with Mara-he had to conclude that this was one hell of an assignment, almost too much for him. At least, he was bushed enough to want another couple hours sleep before he went sight-seeing.
He was only half awake when Mara stepped from the bathroom, toweling herself luxuriantly, and she was careful not to wake him further as she tiptoed about the room slipping on stockings, a chic clingy dress and an outrageously high pair of shoes. She took a last look at herself in the mirror, admiring her fashionably tousled red hair, piled high on her head, and her freckled face, green-eyed freshness, and then she tiptoed out, locking the hotel door behind her, leaving behind on the bed a short note wishing Robert a good time, adding that she'd be back in time to meet him at the hotel for the grand opening of the festival.
The luscious Chicago-born redhead took the elevator down to the plush and impressive lobby, ignoring the appreciative stares of the men she passed, pretending to be oblivious to their admiring looks and to the obvious excitement she was attracting as she went by. She felt marvelously free and unattached, reveling in her first trip to New York since she was a child and excited about the prospects of exploring the city all day, then rejoining her Robert for the equally exciting festival opening that night.
Mara stepped out onto the street, letting herself be caught up in the turmoil and chaos that is midtown Manhattan on a Saturday morning, and an intoxication began to seize her as faces and people rushed by, as the bustle and hectic pace of the street caught her up, infected her with the carnival mood of the city.
She felt deliriously adventurous. This, she told herself, is going to be one day I'm never going to forget. And she beamed inside with excitement. There was so much to do, and so many places to go! There was the Metropolitan Museum-she must see that. There was-oh, there were so many things to do! But a rumbling in her stomach and the sudden thought that she had not eaten since the night before decided her mind for her. It was definitely priority one to get lunch.
Half an hour later found her sitting in a secluded, candle-lit booth at a swank midtown restaurant, savoring her cocktail and studying the menu carefully, struggling to remember fragments of her forgotten high school French courses. She had been pleasantly conscious of the stir her tall, redheaded good looks had created when she had entered, and with inner gratification she had noted the looks of silent invitation from a number of handsome and successful-looking men to join them. But the first thing on the redhead's mind was food. Later she would flirt and select and choose, but first she wanted to eat.
She had had a drink, devoured an entire basket of the small bread treats left on the table, and felt the alcohol do its work. She felt mellower now, less ravenous and more in the mood to appreciate the men around her, especially the ones who were appreciating her.
As she toyed with her drink, the attractive redhead glanced around the restaurant, her cool gaze going from man to man, assessing and evaluating the potential of each man her eyes fell upon, wondering which one she would select. The restuarant was obviously quite popular, and it was filling now at the busy lunch hour with handsome executives, well-dressed, 30ish, successful-looking.
Mara's eye lingered on one such man, a tall distinguished-looking man, a little older than Robert, maybe mid-30's, she thought to herself. He wore an expensively tailored suit. His tan spoke of frequent trips out of New York, and his manner at the bar spoke of money, self-assurance, and masculine prowess.
He noticed her watching him, turned round and met her gaze silently, his dark eyes acknowledging hers with sophistication and knowledgable approval. Before she knew it, he had detached himself from the huddle of younger, junior executives that orbited around him, and was making his way over to her booth. As he approached, the secretary noted with interest the trim, muscular body that showed through his casual suit, noted the white teeth that bared to a wolvish grin as he nonchalantly sat down in her booth. I like this one's style, she thought. This one could be interesting.
"I want to congratulate you, Miss," he began smoothly, gesturing for the waiter. "Seldom in my experience has any beautiful woman so quickly captivated every man in an entire restaurant the way you did just now. And I must say," he added, surveying her ripe breasts and slender form beneath her tight-fitting dress, "I share their good taste."
Mara returned his gaze calmly, settling down to what seemed to be a very promising flirtation. "I'm-sure you do," she retorted, running her eyes the length of his elegant, suntanned body where it was visible above the booth. "I've always heard that New York men were bold. And handsome. And now I can vouch for both," she purred.
He grinned, pleased by the compliment, and by the headway he was making with this ravishing young woman. "What? You mean you're not a native? But no, I suppose you couldn't be. New York women aren't quite as beautiful as you, even the most beautiful ones. Let's see now ... London? Paris? Dublin, perhaps ... with those Gaelic features? Mmmmm ... Miami? San Fran-"
"Chicago," she interjected with a smile. "Chicago?" he said, feigning shock, then grinned. "I always wanted to ball a woman from Chicago."
Mara purred, bowing her head in playful acknowledgement at the compliment. "And I always wanted to fuck with a man from New York. You know, bold and handsome aren't the only interesting things I've heard about New York men."
They laughed together, toasting each other with open eyes full of meaning, and moments later the booth was empty and they were stepping into a cab bound for his Park Avenue penthouse.
On the way home, she learned that his name was Roger, that he was president of one of the city's largest modeling agencies (and so, she thought to herself, an authority on beautiful women), that he was thirty-two and that he not only read Si! regularly but that the girl-of-the-month which Mara had photographed months before had been one of Roger's former models.
They were laughing together, like old friends, by the time the taxi pulled up in front of his luxurious building. As the doorman opened her door, Mara gasped at the palatial standard of living which her new friend was obviously accustomed to. With new found respect for his business mind, she accompanied him to the gilded elevator, his hand lightly caressing her waist, his lips pressed hot but gentle against her ear.
They stepped out into his penthouse suite, and as he opened the doors, Mara was dazzled by the richness of the furnishings; the thick fur rug, heavy baronial furniture, original artworks on the walls and a magnificent view of the city from the seventeenth-floor perspective which his plate windows afforded.
Roger slipped off his coat and tie, moved to the oak-topped bar in the living room and mixed them each a drink. He returned moments later to find Mara staring rapt out the window, struck and entranced by the beauty of the city.
"Yes, it is impressive, isn't it?" he asked, handing her her drink and clinking a toast. "To us," he said.
"To what comes next," she corrected.
With that, Roger took her face between his broad hands, pulled her to him and kissed her, his arms traveling down to caress her slender back, to roam down to the lush hillocks of her buttocks through the thin material of her dress. Needing no further preliminaries, Mara responded hungrily, savoring this opportunity to at last enjoy the man she had been so attracted to, had wanted to fuck for the last hour. Their tongues intertwined wetly in their mouths, flicking playfully back and forth even as their hot hands roaming over each other's flesh built their passions higher.
Mara's hand found his shirt buttons, opened them and slipped her cool palm in to run across his muscular chest, caressing the bare flesh. Roger, in turn, moved his strong hands to the woman's breasts, cupping, massaging and kneading them through the flimsy material of her blouse. They began to pant and moan, each turned on by the suddenness and casualness of their meeting and their fucking, and each growing ever more passionate as they discovered the other's body. Roger's hands roamed over the bare flesh of her strong thighs, slipping his other hand behind her to undo her blouse. In moments the thin garment came undone and parted in his hands, revealing the twin glories of her big braless breasts. With a gasp of admiration, Roger tossed the blouse away, savoring the vision of her frontal nudity, caressing her bare shoulders and pressing his face eagerly to the soft creamy velvet of her bosoms, nuzzling there tenderly. But his tenderness quickly turned to passion as her fingers found his fly and opened the front of his expensive trousers, her hands cupping the bulging mound of his cloth-restrained organ, and with new passion he snaked his tongue out to dance about the sensitive inside of her breasts, flicking up to the nipple in quick teasing strokes. As her own excitement rose, she hastened her efforts to get at his imprisoned cock.
In moments, she had his pants down and off, had stripped him of his shirt. He stood nude before her, his tongue pressed fervently against her steaming breasts, his tongue driving her mad with sensation as she tugged impatiently at his undershorts. Seconds later, those too were gone, freeing his huge cock, and it came bobbing up with a bounce once relieved of the elastic band, the swollen prick-head pressing itself warmly against her soft belly, burrowing urgently into her warm flesh.
Mara reclined on the luxurious couch now, clad only in her hose and panties, her dress mingling on the floor with Roger's discarded clothing. His head pressed hungrily, passionately to her nipples and his throbbing cock probed itself eagerly into her soft thigh as he bent over her, his tanned chest heaving with passion.
"Mmmmm, God, Roger," the redhead panted. "Get into me! Let's not-not-mmmmm!-Not wait any longer! Slide that big, gorgeous-looking cock of yours up into this hungry little redheaded cunt of mine! Ride me, New York stud. Ride your lassie bitch!"
Eagerly he complied, stripping off her panties with one hand, then feeling down the sheer softness of her stockings in the next motion, his tongue never leaving her pulsing breasts, his breath hoarse and ragged with the urgency of his passion, an urgency that he seldom experienced, an urgency that was making him into a wild man. And he knew the woman below him loved it.
Then he was positioning himself above her on the couch, her legs opening and her thigh bracing itself over the back of the couch for a firm grip, her arms reaching up to him, beckoning him down, pressing him close to the hot vital need of her hot body as she felt his weight upon her.
Roger's cock lay against her soft inside thigh, inches from the wet beckoning opening of her cunt, and impatiently she moved her thigh against it, rubbing the sensitive cockhead with what she knew to be unbearably pleasant friction, knowing that he would have to come in, could not resist coming in, if she kept that up.
And she was right. With a shift of his hips and a quick, brutal thrust, he was in, sinking hotly to the hilt in her steaming depths, his cock imbedding itself fully in her begging cunt. He drew a gasp of ecstasy from the redheaded beneath him as she felt him sink home, filling her completely, deliriously, and he heard her moan wantonly when he began to slowly withdraw and thrust in and out, pulling his massive organ out almost to the lips of her pleading, sucking cunt, making her arch her hips pleadingly for him to stay in her, then brutally ramming himself back in, rocking home with a slam that floored her squirming ass back onto the plush couch, pounding her brutally onto the cushion as he worked his cock inside her till he withdrew inch by inch again, only to slam back even harder.
"Oh, God, Roger, you're killing me with that thing!" she moaned, writhing her hips beneath him as he slammed home again. "You're killing me! And how I love it! Kill me, Roger. Fuck me to death with that big whang of yours, that great huge fucker of yours! Fuck me to death. Yes! YES, that's the way. Be brutal, be rough. God I love it when you're rough. YYEEESSSS! she screamed, and shrieked violently as her entire body shook with the devastating spasms of orgasm.
Roger too felt himself beginning to build as he sucked passionately at the exposed throat of the thrashing redhead, her fingers digging deep into his buttocks in the desperation of her passion, and he knew that he would not last much longer either. Not that he wanted to. The first time was always quick like this between strangers, quick and passionate because the most important thing in the world with a stranger is to come together, and only after that do you begin to refine, to polish, to dally an afternoon away with all the exquisite varieties of sensuality, all the positions and pleasures and sensations of sexual hedonism. AH that would come later ... as soon as they finished this round. And, God, how close to finishing they were!
Feeling himself tightening in the warning tinglings that precede the powerful eruption of sperm, Roger bit hard the redhead's ear, gasping obscenities into her ear with the mounting frenzy of the coming he knew would soon be upon him, the coming that was all for the lusciously writhing piece of redhead, red-cunted ass beneath him.
"Fuck you, bitch," he gasped, his voice rising with approaching explosion. "Homy cocksucking motherfucker bitch. Cockteasing red-cunted bitch, fuck me. Fuck me, bitch. Take my prick and shove it deep into you! Yes, that's what you want, cunt Isn't it! You want that" he gasped, thrusting brutally deeper. "You want that, don't you? You want my big cock in your hot, steaming cunt, don't you? My cock, full of come, about to come, you like that, don't you, cunt! All right, you're going to get it! I'm going to-aaaggghhh-I'm going toooooohhhhOOOHHHH GOODDD, CUNT, I'MM GOING TaCCOOMMMEEEE!"
"I'm coming!" he moaned, his cock burrowing deep and rooting desperately as he fucked his come into her steaming, thirsty depths, spurt after spurt of his boiling white liquid shooting from his pistoning phallus into her squirming insides, her pussy muscles working hungrily at him, milking him greedily for every last drop of his rich thick come, fucking and fucking against him till at last she felt his flow subside, felt his hips slow and then gradually stop.
They both floated a while on the euphoria of their orgasms, the violence of their mutual coming leaving them too wasted to do anything else for the moment. After a few moments, Mara felt her man dwindling, felt the inevitable plop of his shrunken cock as it slithered from her cunt, leaving a trail of hot fresh come to keep her happy till he was erect again-which Mara vowed would be soon. He rolled off her heavily, collapsing exhausted on his back, beside her on the spacious, almost bed-sized couch.
"You-you do this often?" she managed, her fingers playing lightly along the top of his naked thigh.
"No oftener than you, I think," said he, returning her affectionate gaze.
There was silence and quiet in the apartment for a few moments, as Mara savored the indescribable feelings of satiation and fulfillment which she always felt after sex, especially good sex like this with Roger, and multiplied by the palatial setting she found herself in, with its baronial splendor and yet balanced good taste. Mara guessed that some woman, or women, were frequent guests here, otherwise the apartment would have a slightly different air about it, one reserved only to bachelor places. She closed her eyes, drinking in the peacefulness of the moment and the exquisite promise of the coming afternoon of fucking, sucking, and talk, an erotic interlude that would last well into the evening, right up to the time she would have to leave to meet Roger for the festival. She found herself looking forward to it all.
Then Roger was up and next to her, bending to take her gently in his arms, nibbling playfully at her neck and tonguing at her ears, his soft cock pressed against her sleek, naked thigh, already beginning to harden again with the proof of his lust for her.
"Mmmmm, Mara," he whispered, his hands going once again to her breasts, lovingly fondling the erecting nipples. "How'd you like to-"
"Well," said a strange female voice, "looks like I've stumbled onto quite an afternoon here."
The two lovers looked up, shocked and caught off guard, and Mara saw a young, chic-dressed woman standing in the open doorway. Her hands were on her hips and her cover-girl face went blank as she took in the scene of passion before her. While Mara watched, dumb-founded, the woman extracted the keys from the door, closed it behind her and strode casually towards the bar, dismissing the couple on the couch.
"My wife," said Roger calmly, returning Mara's wide-eyed gaze.
"The name's Helen," said the woman friendlily, as she returned from the bar with drinks for all three. Mara accepted hers in stunned silence, unsure of how to react to this beautiful woman who just breezed in, discovered her husband making love to another woman, and now casually makes drinks for all three. Helen noted her baffled expression with a smile, sat down on the couch next to Mara, running her eye inquisitively over the girl's nudity, evaluating what she saw expertly. "Roger always has had good taste, don't you agree, Miss-?" asked the brunette woman.
"It's Ms., thank you," replied Mara, her confidence beginning to return with the casual nonchalance with which the attractive newcomer accepted her husband's extra-curricular partners. "Ms. Mara Callahan. In town for the Erotic Film Festival."
"Oh, the film thing, yesss," said the brunette, taking interest. "I read about that. Are you an actress or a film maker?" she asked, removing her hat and scarf.
"Neither, I'm with Si! Magazine. Why did you think I might be an actress?"
"Because you have the body for it, dear." Helen's eyes swept over her husband's playmate, and she liked what she saw. The tingling that began when she walked in the door and found the two of them in each other's arms was growing now, and it occurred to her that this redhead just might get more out of this afternoon's session than she had expected.
Without any more talk, the brunette stood up, shrugged off her coat and rapidly undid the buttons of her see-through blouse. The garment fell away, revealing the large creamy spheres of the woman's perfect breasts, her tiny pink nipples erect with excitement. Wordlessly, she bent and stripped off her boots, stripping down her skirt and standing brazenly before her husband and his attractive redheaded pickup. Her hands were on her hips and her chin held high, her body radiating naked desire, her brunette pussy bush peeping from beneath her legs like a hidden treasure.
"Wha-" began Mara, but then the beauty of the woman's body stopped her. Mara stared at it in awe. The woman was tall, shapely, statuesque, her thighs long and strong-looking, her hips wide and generously inviting, her breasts delicious-looking and her lips set in a waiting challenge. Excitement radiated from her dark eyes, and Mara found herself tremendously attracted to this brazenly aggressive, impressively beautiful woman.
"Helen used to be my top model," said Roger, catching the girl's mood. "Beautiful, isn't she?" he said.
In answer, Mara rose from the couch, standing in awe before the black-haired beauty, and gingerly reached out her hand to the woman's breast, her slim fingers gently tracing the swell of the fleshy globe where it met the valley between her breasts, her palm hovering gently, tentatively over the woman's hardening nipple.
Helen needed no further encouragement. Her arms went out to the redhead, and they embraced, their lush breasts grinding nakedly against each other as a fever traveled between the two. A rising heat that inflamed their loins, sent their heads spinning with sudden passion.
Before Mara knew it, the three of them were in the bedroom, and Roger was setting her down on the bed, positioning himself between the two women as they kissed. He forced their bodies apart, insistent on his pleasure, too. And as Mara's head cleared from its initial intoxication from the drinks and the suddenness of her trance-like desire for the other woman, she felt two pairs of hands, male and female, traversing the length and width of her body, exploring, adventuring discovering her body with delight. She felt two tongues upon her, one rough and large, the other lasciviously petite, and she surrendered herself relaxedly to the pleasures of menage.
But not for long could she lie idle. "Here, darling, eat me while I taste that delicious little honeypot of yours, mm?" said Helen, straddling Mara's face with her strong thighs and lowering her quivering pussy down towards the Irish girl's waiting lips. At the same time, she was parting her redheaded pubic fleece to expose the wonders within. Mara trembled with pleasure as the black-haired woman began to tongue and lick her erected clitoris, suckling the swollen bud lovingly as Mara began to tongue her own dusky snatch. "Mmmm, that's good, dear. So good! Mmmmm, lovely-"
Roger, watching these two beautiful women tongue each other with obvious pleasure and rising excitement, their heads buried between each other's hot damp thighs and their mouths working hungrily at each other's smoldering cunt, felt himself growing larger with excitement, his cock swelling ever bigger at the obscene spectacle before him. He watched hungrily as his lusty bisexual wife devoured the trembling pussy of the smashing redhead he'd found, and his eyes moved fondly over the body of his erotically insatiable wife, tracing a line down her familiar back to the gracefully rounded melons of her ripe ass hovering over the licking Mara's face.
Determined to get in on the action, Roger moved about to bring his cock squarely into line with his wife's quivering cuntal crack, where it exposed itself between her out-thrust ass cheeks, her pubic hair poking wispily from between her thighs. Looking closely, his eyes widening with lust, he swallowed drily as he saw the wetly glistening pinkness of his wife's cuntal lips being lavishly kissed and Frenched by the eager Mara.
Arching his hips to straddle Mara's licking head, he brought his groin up against his wife's fleshy, lust-taut buttocks, his tensed thighs and hard, urgent cock grinding against her straining posterior. His aching cockhead pressed for entrance and found the familiar opening of her cunt, lubricated by Mara's experienced tongue and steaming hot from her oral exertions.
"Mmmmm-uuuunnggghhh!" she moaned, muffled in Mara's steaming cunt, as she felt his cock pressing for admittance to her yearning fuckhole. Eagerly she wriggled her ass at him, squirming provocatively, and with pleasure Roger plunged in, finding her quivering vagina to be a blazing inferno of lust, quaking and shuddering about his firmly embedded cock with the nearness of her cunnilingually heightened orgasm.
Helen gripped hungrily at her husband's pistoning phallus, her yearning body clenching itself about the hard length of his meaty shaft with greedy ecstasy. The combined sensations of that hard cock and Mara's softly drilling, exquisitely licking tongue were too much for the black-haired woman, and she shuddered violently with the blazing intensity of their combined flesh against her frantically pumping cunt.
"Ooooh-ooh, suck me," she moaned. "Dick me! Yes, Roger, rip me open with that great rod of yours. And Mara, suck my little clit like you're doing! OOHH GGODDDD!" she screamed, writhing frantically against her husband's plunging cock and the redhead's slurping tongue. "III'MMM COMMINGGGG!"
Explosions of white-hot orgasm ripped through the lithe woman, her body seared by flashes of her devastating ecstasy, her breasts and belly and loins afire with carnal joy, her mind reeling with the combined pleasures of her two beautiful lovers.
Through the orgasmic confusion of her sex-fogged brain, she felt her husband's cock swelling, tightening ominously in her feverish cunt, his mighty organ enlarging against her steaming cuntal walls in the ancient warning of immediate orgasm, and she twisted ever more passionately against him to hurry him on, her steaming, aching, orgasm-shattered pussy hungry for the taste of his come.
In despair she felt the hard length of him sliding out of her, and with a pop he was out of her, leaving only Mara's frantically writhing tongue against her hot, passion-swollen clit.
"Roger?-What are you-"
And then she felt his swollen cockhead pressing against her tightly puckered anus, felt his slickly lubricated tip thrusting insistently against her slowly opening asshole, his hands gripping her flanks firmly to afford her no chance of escape.
Slowly her anal opening gave ground before his persistent pressure and with an agonizing groan she felt his cock slipping in, its cuntal lubrication easing its passage into her delightfully tight ass.
"Aaaahhh," he sighed, his voice thick with desire and pleasure. "You've always felt so good back there, Helen. I always said you had a gorgeous ass."
"Shut-uunngggh-shut up and-aahhh-and fuck me," she gasped, her breath becoming hoarse and ragged with the sensations his slowly thrusting phallus was evoking from her highly sensitive asshole. At the same time, her now empty cunthole was being lovingly filled by the tense length of Mara's moaning mouth, and with a moan of pleasure, Helen bent back to finishing the cunnilingus she had began on the redhead's delicious pussy.
Feeling the lovely black-haired beauty's tongue once again on her abandoned clitoris, Mara sighed, knowing that her rekindling orgasm would not be long now. Eagerly, she redoubled her efforts at the other woman's hovering emit, feeling the wet, glistening muscles there contracting feverishly, feeling the woman's second orgasm approaching.
Mara opened her sex-drugged eyes, looked up and saw Roger's angry red organ sinking deep into the widely stretched opening of Helen's violated asshole, watched the woman's hips writhing sensuously in his steadying hands, knew the pleasure that hard length must be giving her. She licked her dry lips at the prospect of having him later, tasting the thick scent of Helen's perfumed womanhood as she did.
Then she saw his balls swell and contract in his hairy sack, dangling inches over her mouth as it slapped against the crack of Helen's thighs, and impulsively Mara leaned up and took the balls into her mouth, sensing how close their owner was to orgasm, feeling with her tongue the frenzied hotness of the orbs, the swollen readiness of their bloated weight.
The sensation of his balls being licked and sucked by the woman who was tonguing his wife's hot cunt was too much for him, and, with a moan, Roger knew that he was about to come. "Oh, damn, M-Mara," he gasped. "God woman suck me, suck me, lick my hot swollen balls while I fire into my wife! God, Helen, tighten your lush ass around me while I coat your insides with hot creamy come. Till I rip you wide open with my coming! I-I can't hold it anymore! I'M-I'MCGOOOMMMINNNGG! FFUCKK! DAMNNN! AAAAAHHHHHH!"
And he shot, his might cock convulsing and spurting heavy gushes of boiling sperm deep into his wife's greedily twisting ass, his cock exploding while Mara sucked him harder, vacuuming with her tongue every last bit of hot sperm from his swollen balls as they twitched unbearably in her mouth.
The intensity of his orgasm was too much, and Helen felt the hot flow of his sperm soaking her violated ass, trickling hotly down to her aching pussy-crack, and with that she came, her body twisting and writhing uncontrollably, caught fast in Roger's grip and the vise lock of Mara's arching legs. She tongued madly in her frenzy at the redhead's open cunt, and felt the girl below her trem ble with the beginnings of her own orgasm. Eagerly she reapplied her hot tongue and suckling mouth to the girl's quivering cunt, and in seconds felt the girl spasm and buck, her hips humping madly against her bobbing tongue, her slender thighs locked in orgasm around the brunette's gladly tonguing head.
Mara's mind exploded as her long-awaited orgasm erupted from deep in her loins. She locked her thighs convulsively about the woman's head, simultaneously locking her arms about the woman's straddling thighs, and tonguing madly at her cunt, her ass, her thighs, her clit, and against the buried length of Roger's swollen prick. The Irish beauty continued growing ever drunker on the mingled tastes of Helen's vaginal secretions and the hot trickle of manly come that seeped down to her waiting tongue from the lubricated fusion of his cock with Helen's asshole.
"OOOHHH-AAAAHHH-AAAAGGHHHH!" she shrieked, and then collapsed violently back onto the bed, her mind drained, her passion crumpling her like an emptied container of lust, her fuck-fogged mind unable to accept anymore, blasted with the intensity of their three orgasms.
Above her, Roger's cock was slowly dwindling inside his wife's steaming, sperm-soaked asshole, and with a sigh, Helen allowed him to roll her off Mara and over beside her. They lay together there, still fused, groin-to-butt, and their breathing slowly returned to normal as their minds recovered from their shattering mutual orgasms. Embraced in each other's arms, Roger's arms locked gently about Helen's naked waist and her hand stroking gently against the naked flesh of her husband's thigh, they looked with affection and a bit of awe at the nude and barely sensible Mara. Her redheaded pussy-bush was soaked with the spendings of Helen's tongue, her lips wet with Helen's cuntal secretions and with the traces of Roger's dribbled come.
Gently Helen reached out, caressed the young girl's bare breast, bent to tongue her gasping, open mouth, gently licking away the last traces of her husband's cooling sperm. "I want to congratulate you again on your good taste, Roger," she said, her eyes running appreciatively up and down the exposed length of the semiconscious redhead's naked body. "She certainly turned out to be a winner. Quite a winner," she added, fondly refilling the feel of the girl's tongue against her clit.
"Roger, where are our manners? And what kind of host are you? Aren't you forgetting something?" she asked.
Roger looked on uncomprehendingly.
"Get the lady a drink. After all, honey," said the black-haired wife, caressing the girl's forehead lovingly, "she's earned it."
And, smiling, the naked husband rose and padded out to the bar, eager to obey.
An hour later found Mara bidding the couple affectionate goodbyes at the door of their palatial home, exchanging addresses and promising to get together the next time Roger took Helen with him to Chicago to interview models, adding that if Mara ever wanted to model, she had an immediate offer from his agency.
Smiling, Mara promised to keep it in mind, and stepped into the waiting elevator, pressed the button for the luxurious lobby, and in moments she was back out on the streets of Manhattan again, ready for another round of adventure.
A glance at her watch told her she still had two or three hours to kill before meeting Robert back at the hotel room, and her earlier desire to see the Metropolitan Museum reasserted itself. Sated with sex for the time being-or so she thought-she decided to head for the famed museum.
A block's walk brought her to a subway entrance, and with apprehension, she approached the posted map of the city's subways, puzzling vainly in an attempt to decipher the mysterious hieroglyphics which veteran New Yorkers insist are actually a guide-map of the city's system Resigning herself to fate, she presented her token and entered the subways, ignoring the looks her tall, flushed good looks brought as her short skirt hiked up in the turnstile.
After a hectic, screeching, lurching ride she was at her stop, and, in ten minutes, found herself fascinated by the exhibits in the vast, cavernous place. Fascinating room led to fascinating room, and with lusty appreciation, she stared at the mammoth Greek nudes, devouring the handsome young boys and lushly revealed females, her lusty 20th-century body responding to the beauty of these ancient representations of immortal youth, immortal sexuality.
Gradually she drifted further and further into the depths of the enormous structure, and she was so enraptured by the beauty of the colossal nudes that she did not notice as fellow tourists grew fewer and fewer, the low drone of other voices fading as she found herself in the furthest reaches of the drab-walled halls.
She realized that she was lost, and felt some concern for a moment, that she might have some difficulty finding her way back out. But the next moment she relaxed, hearing a low drone of someone's voice a few rooms down, and she walked calmly in the direction of the voice, realizing that she would have no problems after all.
As she entered the third room, one full of Greek erotica, the voices became quite distinct. As she turned the comer, she discovered a huddle of high school age teenagers grouped around what looked to be their teacher or chaperone, listening patiently to his lecture. Mara slipped in unnoticed, not wanting to draw attention to herself, or have to explain how absurdly she had gotten herself lost. She decided to wait till the class moved on and follow them towards the exit.
In the dimly lit, seldom-used room, she felt safe to stand in the shadows, unwatched, and it was only then that the language of the lecturer sounded strange to her. With a shock, she realized that it was not English ... Latin, perhaps, or Arabic, or, or-College language courses in the Classics returned to her, and with a sense of triumph she realized that it was Greek. She had forgotten too much of her courses to follow much of the man's talk, but she caught enough words and phrases here and there that she became interested in hearing him better. She found herself drifting closer to the small group.
At the fringe of the crowd, still unobserved by the students or by their teacher, who seemed far too involved in his droning lecture to notice anything around him, she noted the attractiveness of several of the youngsters, and she guessed their average age to be about fifteen. Exchange students, probably, she told herself, and noted with approval the sun-bronzed, olive-skinned good looks of these young Grecians. As beautiful as their ancestors, she thought, and tried to visualize these descendants of the beautiful Greek youth represented on the walls about her, in the ancient dress of the statues. She tried to imagine the boys standing next to her, spear in hand, nearly-naked, gazing heroically out to sea or standing in languid nonchalance against a column in the Parthenon.
The thought excited her, and she admitted to herself that the erotically pictured, mostly unclad statues and paintings she had been admiring had turned her on sexually, and with a sighing nostalgia, she wished she could experience the promising young nakedness of some of the handsome youths about her.
Then she felt something warm against her leg, moving caressingly up her thigh, insinuating itself warmly, knowledgeably into her skirt to cup and squeeze her fleshy buttocks. It was a hand! The hand of one of these children in the shadows about her!
Surreptiously, Mara glanced about at the fringe of the crowd, saw a good-looking young boy standing next to her, a slyly worldly look on his young face and a mischievous wink in his black eyes, his curly black hair falling tousled down his tanned neck to his open shirt front. He winked again, his hand circling softly against her hot skin beneath her clinging short skirt.
Mara was seized with a sudden impulse to ravish this beautiful, knowledgeable young boy. She glanced covertly about the group, satisfying herself that none of the boy's classmates were watching them, and she smiled subtly as she realized that the others were oblivious to them, had not noticed her approach or the boy's interest in her.
With a conspiratorial wink, she pressed her hand against his, squeezing his small hand warmly against her ripe buttocks, and motioned for him to follow her. He nodded eagerly, and the two of them began to back slowly away from the class, edging their way cautiously into the shadows of the cavernous museum room, careful not to be noticed by the other students or by their droning chaperone.
Stealthily they backed away till the shadows enveloped them and they could not be seen by the group they had left behind. Suppressing a giggle of excitement, Mara hurried the boy along with her out of the room, taking him unprotestingly by the hand and leading him through first one and then two abandoned chambers to a secluded bench she remembered passing. The droning of the Greek lecture could be heard in the halls as the horny woman turned round to admire her young catch.
He was younger than she'd guessed, no more than fifteen and probably fourteen, but well-developed, with olive skin and large, mischievous dark eyes that radiated healthy sexuality and wild animal excitement. He was fairly tall for his age, though he came only to Mara's shoulders, and his youthful body with its broad shoulders and slim hips showed promise. As she assessed the boy, her eyes were drawn inevitably to the swelling bulge of his crotch.
"Let's see if your cock is as precocious as the rest of you," she said, sitting him down on the cushioned bench beside her and unbuckling his belt. In seconds she had unzipped his fly, and her slender fingers found the prize they sought. She withdrew from his tight jeans an enormous, very adult-looking erection, the swollen head jutting proudly out, an immense column of young flesh.
"Well, at least that part of you is full grown," she said, smiling with anticipation of her rape of this delicious-looking young boy. And though he did not understand her words, he understood well the look of hungry pleasure in her green eyes, and he smiled wickedly at her, waggling his hips lasciviously for her to strip him.
The redhead slipped off his shoes and shimmied his jeans down his strong young legs, freeing his youthful cock, and in seconds she had unbuttoned his shirt as well, slipping it off while her fingers explored the expanse of his naked chest, her fingers playfully tweaking the hard copper pennies of his nipples.
He smiled with cunning appreciation, and reclined back on the couch, his thighs opened and his phallus pointed towards the ceiling as he awaited Mara to disrobe. And she did, quickly shedding her thin dress with a careless shrug, the flimsy garment floating to the floor as she stood revealed to him in all her naked glory, braless and pantyless, her rich creamy skin gleaming softly in the dim light. His eyes widened as he took in her beauty, and his cock twitched with anticipation as she approached him.
Mara was .in no mood to linger over preliminaries, her hot body burned to rape this handsome young find of hers, and with brazen assertiveness she pushed him back onto the cushioned bench, taking his cock firmly in her hand and seized it by its base. She knelt on the bench below him, bent her head to his cock while her breasts hung enticingly to brush against the inside of his thighs. Her mouth opened and her lips enveloped his waiting cock, feeling his hard meaty length sink deep into her practiced throat, the velvety softness of his cockhead running against the inside of her mouth. The boy groaned incoherently in Greek as the lovely woman began to expertly fellate him. Her skilled tongue and mouth worked him enthusiastically, her hands roaming the expanse of his naked abdomen and chest, running up the hard-muscled length of his tensing arms, returning to cup his sack of balls and work them gently with her thumbs.
The boy began to thrash now, his hips thrusting beneath her as he strove to push ever more of his bloated cock into her hotly sucking mouth, his fists I clenched helplessly at his sides. Relishing her power over the boy, the redhead redoubled her sucking, increasing the oral rhythm till she felt him gasp with ecstasy and unbearable pleasure, his young body afire with the joy she was giving him.
"Here, you lovely boy," she said, rising and repositioning herself over his head, her thighs straddling his waiting mouth without losing hold of his pulsing cock. "Have some genuine lovely, Irish cunt while I finish you off. And, Mmmmmm, don't you think I'm going to enjoy that?"
Instantly understanding, the precocious boy began to lap and lick at her hovering cunt, his tongue flicking out not inexperiencedly against her rapidly enlarging clit. "Mmmm, they grow them nice in Greece," she purred, thrusting her responding groin against his upthrusting tongue, and returning eagerly to his throbbing cock.
His cock seemed even hotter than when she left it, and he felt as if his throbbing organ had grown while she repositioned herself lewdly over him. "Getting to you, aren't I?" she purred, her words muffled by the cock she held in her mouth. She was a mistress of her craft, she knew, and with pride she felt the boy writhe beneath her as her talented tongue ran the length of his shaft, nicking tantalizingly at his swollen gland, sucking vigorously at the reddening tip. His clenched fists pounded against the bench as she intensified her fellatio, his head now thrashing from side to side as he tongued her insistently downthrust groin, her hips grinding feverishly against his lapping mouth.
Mara continued to suck the beautiful Greek boy, her senses heightened by an exquisite awareness of danger, a delicious fear of discovery. She felt utterly whorish and beautifully brazen as she milked him, her naked ass exposed to the air as she wriggled it down atop him The knowledge that his chaperone and classmates were talking, unaware, in the next room, sent a thrill of sluttish passion through the redheaded woman's slender frame, and the total eroticism of fucking this youth in an open, public place like the museum turned her on far beyond her expectations, until she realized that her orgasm was going to be tremendous and overwhelming. And soon.
The boy arched his hips just then, and Mara had only split-seconds to prepare before his orgasm exploded, sending shot after pulsing shot of his rich, boyish sperm deep into her welcoming mouth. She swallowed gulp after warm, creamy gulp as he thrust his hips frenziedly up at her, his incoherent Greek babble muffled by her wet and pressing groin as he moaned in passion, his tongue lashing furiously at her with the feverish delirium of helpless orgasm.
Mara had no time to relish the delicious fullness with which she had consummated her rape of the youth beneath her, for in seconds her orgasm was upon her, a blinding shattering thunderbolt orgasm that sent electric lightning blasts of sensation throughout her stiffening, convulsing frame, her mind blanked under the white-hot waves of ecstasy, her hips locked convulsively to press the boy's hot drilling tongue deeper into her cunt, harder against her spasming clitoris, her moans and orgasmic curses stifled by the swollen flesh of the boy's flowing organ in her mouth.
As abruptly as it had come her orgasm went, leaving her weak and dizzy atop the lapping youth, his tongue still dutifully pleasuring her, bringing her down in a sweet afterglow. Gratefully (and stiffly) she dismounted him, sitting next to him on the bench, her aching body drained from the power of her many orgasms that day, her eyes running appreciatively over his nude form beside her.
He sat up too, and they hugged, naked flesh against naked flesh, their passions cooled and their affection strong. Then the droning Greek of the chaperone began to draw nearer, and the sounds of slowly shuffling footsteps began to drift towards them from the adjacent rooms. Giving him a quick pat on the rump, Mara helped the boy dress, savoring the last glimpses of his nudity as she helped him back into his tight-fitting jeans. As she pulled on her own dress, she swatted him lovingly on his small, boyish ass, giving him a last affectionate wink as he scampered happily back towards his group.
The redheaded woman bent to slip back into her shoes, straightening out the wrinkles in her dress with a contented sigh, reflecting wryly on how little time that day she had spent in her dress, and how much time she had spent getting out of it. She flicked out her hand compact from her bag, rearranged the stray strands of her long, disheveled red hair, noting the healthy post-sexual flush of her freckled features and the well-fucked gleam in her rich green eyes. And then she saw a sight that shocked her-From behind one of the exhibit cases stood an elderly guard, his wrinkled old face smiling nostalgically, his rheumy old eyes beaming approvingly at her as if he had seen everything!
She whirled about to face him, her features blushing and her hand going automatically to her mouth in surprise. In response, the old man just stood there, smiling benevolently, enjoying her discomfiture and enjoying even more her striking good looks. Mara recovered a little, seeing that the old man meant her no harm and had obviously just been enjoying himself watching the two of them sporting ... remembering old times, she thought, and instantly she was mellowing towards him, her after-sex euphoria sending sensations of goodwill throughout her.
She hurried past him towards the exit he pointed to, and as she went by, he reached out and gently pinched her derriere. She paused, looked him directly in the eye, bent and kissed the grandfatherly old lecher on the top of his bald head.
And then there were only the sounds of her retreating footsteps in the hall.
CHAPTER SIX
"Would you care for some more wine, my dear?" asked Miles Hamilton.
The sultry Brazilian nodded sensuously, smiled slyly as the elegantly attired millionaire refilled her glass. The big limousine was making good time as it threaded its way through the crowded Manhattan streets towards the festival's errand opening, but the chauffeur's driving was skillful and the big car quiet and smooth-riding. Hamilton did not spill a single drop of the hundred-year old vintage.
"You know, I've been attracted to you for some time," he continued, eyeing her lush Latin bosom appreciatively. "Ever since I saw your first film in Paris this summer. You give head on screen so beautifully," he chuckled, raising his glass to her in a silent toast.
"Well," said the Brazilian porn starlet, her large brown eyes sparkling with approval at the appraising looks her companion was giving her. "My talents aren't all-cinematic." Her lips pursed suggestively as she shot a surreptious glance across the plush seat, at her host's crotch. She saw there, the hard bulge she expected, a promising development that she knew so well. Her game was going even better than she had hoped it would when she first accepted his invitation to stay at his penthouse, for the duration of the festival. If she played her cards right "In fact, Miles," the sultry brunette continued, tossing her head vixen-like and fixing the youthful millionaire with a knowing look, "it's been said by-mmm, those that know-that I do some of my best work off the screen." She raised her glass to him meaningfully.
The Manhattan socialite met her sultry gaze, feeling himself excited by this dusky South American beauty's hot, brazen sexuality and her full, tropically ripe voluptuousness.
"I'm sure none of your films do you justice, Choquita," said Miles, calling her by the screen name that had made her famous. "After all, art is only an imitation of life. And now that I find myself together with you, face to face, well, the real thing is incomparable." He grinned, suddenly realizing the double-entendre he had just made. "And speaking of incomparable, I'm sure you are."
"Mmmm," she purred, returning his suggestive look with a provocative stare of her own. "Are you so sure? I mean, can you be? After all, you've never experienced it." She shifted positions subtly on the seat, thrusting her full, proud breasts against the clinging thin material of her black gown, her olive skin showing at the curvaceous valley where they met and also at the full curve of her richly meaty thighs, where the deep slit in the side of her thousand-dollar gown exposed hot Brazilian skin like tawny velvet. "At least," she added, licking her lips sensuously, invitingly, "not yet!"
He was silent while she sipped her drink, her eyes watching him over the rim of the glass. Good, she thought, I've got him where I want him. He's trying to play cool, but underneath that suave polish he's squirming with desire for what I've got in this hot little Latin love box of mine. And he's going to be willing to do a lot of nice things for sweet little Choquita. Running a practiced eye up and down the length of his trim, handsome body, with its Miami tan and slender tennis player's muscles, she thought on, and giving it to him is going to be such a pleasure!
Hamilton refilled her-glass again, moving closer to her on the seat. Outside, the limousine streetlights cast their pale glare into the car, filtered through the velvet curtains in the back. The effect was like candlelight and the lusty Brazilian starlet knew how lovely she looked, how exotically desirable she would appear to a man, especially a sophisticated connoisseur of sensuality like Miles Hamilton. Connoisseur of porn, too, she reminded herself, thinking back to when he had proved to her earlier that evening that he had seen each and every one of her films ... by showing her album of publicity stills from each.
Hamilton shifted towards her on the plush seat, slipping an arm about her bare shoulders as he set the champagne aside and moved his other hand to her exposed thigh, his manicured ringers stroking softly, idly at the satiny flesh there, flesh that was hot with wine and excitement and tropical passion. The hand moved slowly, leisurely up her leg to her hip, caressing her soft hip and waist through the thin material of her gown, finding her hot everywhere wherever he touched. Hot, and obviously ready. Choquita, in turn, set down her glass, moved her slim tanned hand to his cheek, running her palm teasingly down his cheek to his throat and then twining her slim fingers in the ruffles of his expensive formal shirt, playing with the fabric while gently pulling him towards her waiting lips.
There was no longer any need for words. The dusky woman pulled him close, her lips parting slightly in anticipation, lips that were pink and softly glistening, pulpy generous cocksucker lips that looked pouting and sensuous to the lusty millionaire.
Their lips met hotly, mouths opening to each other's tongues, exploring and seeking pleasure as their tongues met and danced together, the taste of the champagne sweet and strong on each other's breath, an intoxicating taste that gave an erotic plus to the already-charged pair.
As their tongues fenced together in their joined mouths, Hamilton moved his hands from her thigh and waist to her breasts, those two glorious globes, big as tropical grapefruits and just as squeezably juicy-looking to the famished Miles. His hands gripped and cupped those breasts, palming and caressing their dusky beauty with slow sensuous motions, his mind beginning to swim with the un believable excitement of the situation he found himself at long last in, as if suddenly transported into his favorite fantasy, magically come true. At long last, he held in his two hands those marvelous hot breasts he had seen on the screen so many times, those tremendous Latin breasts with their amazing firmness and uplift, the big bronzed nipples, big as half-dollars, those marvelous ravishing mind-blowing breasts that had men all over the world desperate with desire, breasts that had floored him the first time he'd seen them on the theatre screen, driven him mad with lust as he sat there and had haunted him after the movie ended, sending him home so frenzied with desire that he'd banged his date for the evening, a fifty thou a year model for a Manhattan agency, eight times before finally drifting off into unsatisfied sleep just before dawn, the vision of those two breasts filling his dreams. And he had wanted her so long, endlessly viewing special prints of all her films in the part of his penthouse he had converted to a private screening room, watching hot with desire as she filled the screen and his dreams with her hot sultry body, her ass, her thighs, her breasts, her cunt, her mouth----And now, at last, all his, his for the taking, tonight! Miles reeled with excitement at the very thought.
"Oh, Choquita," he whispered hoarsely, his tongue toying in her ear. "You're unbelievable! God, such a body you've got, woman, such a beautiful sexy-sexy-ugghh-oohhh-aaaahhhh, Choquita! AHHH!"
She had worked her hand down into his pants, flicked open the millionaire's fly with a practiced hand and pulled out his rigid prick, throbbing hotly in the velvet glove of her palm. The woman smiled as she saw what she was doing to him. She confidently redoubled her efforts at milking his great organ with her right hand, working up and down the hard length of his shaft in long squeezing caresses while playing with the weighty sack of his balls.
Choquita had him frantic now, the thin veneer of his elegant manners crumbling beneath the onslaught of the raging passions she was releasing within him. Slowly she worked his cock with her fingers, rhythmically massaging the pulsing cock as she roamed her other hand into his shirt, unbuttoning the ruffled formal wear and slipping her hand against his chest, her palm against his bare skin, and leisurely she began to tease the hard copper pennies of his masculine nipples, a subtle arousal that she knew many men liked. And she was not wrong! Hamilton began to squirm in his seat, his hips writhing and undulating beneath the ministrations of her hand against his cock, his hands traveling ever more feverishly over the soft expanse of her breasts, his eyes heavy-lidded with passion, his breath hot and panting against her perfumed neck.
"Oh, God, woman, what you're doing to me!" he gasped. "I've had them all, the best, the most beautiful women in the world. I've had thousand-dollar call girls in Paris, I've had million-dollar models by the score, the most gorgeous sought after sluts in the world, but I've never-aagghh-never had anyone as good as you, Choquita! AAHHH!"
He buried his hand still deeper into the slit in her gown, fingers burrowing into the confined space in search of her hot cuntal furrow, a furrow he had seen wetly glistening so many times on screen, his other hand feverishly fondling her heavy breast, cupping and gripping the soft fleshy globe in endless awe and fascination. He eased the expensive gown away from the tawny sphere, slipping the fabric away from her decolletage, and first one and then the other breast bobbed free, two immense olive-skinned fruit jostling each other heavily in his cupping hands, large dark nipples puckered and erect, pouting to be kissed, sucked, made love to.
Miles bent his head hungrily to the twin glories, evoking sighs of pleasure from the panting Choquita as his experienced tongue traced circles of delight spiraling around each breast, each globe cupped in his large hand, his tongue and lips and teeth dividing their attention equally on each. Toyingly he worked his tongue in an ever shortening spiral to the aureola of each large swollen nipple, teasing her a moment before taking the two swollen buds into his mouth, his tongue and hot lips savoring their perfumed scent.
Choquita, spurred on by her plans and by the unexpected passion the experienced hedonist was giving her, eased her hands around his hips and slipped his formal trousers down and off him, freeing his cock and balls and running her hands over the smooth flesh of his hard thighs and lean butt. His peter was throbbing violently now. his passion mounting towards the inevitable, and as the car made its slow way through the Manhattan streets she bent her head to his bobbing cock, her wet pulpy cocksucker lips pursed and opening in anticipation. Lower she came, lower.
His prick was engulfed in a hot, steaming mouth that slipped down over his yearning length like a wet warm vagina, like a pulpy hot glove, and Miles gasped in pleasure, his brain dizzied by the nearness of his orgasm, the suddenness with which Choquita's well-trained hand and experienced mouth were bringing him towards his end. Hamilton reached down, cupped her breasts again in his widened palms, squeezed desperately with the intensity of the waves of indescribable sensation that she was sending through him, his breathing hoarse and ragged, his mind reeling with desire and the hot scent of her womanhood in the seat, wafting to him from the steaming cunt his hand fondled beneath her gown.
Choquita quickened her pace, feeling herself near to orgasm and wanting to bring the orgasm she had been so skillfully building in Hamilton to a roaring conclusion in the hot haven of incomparable mouth, wanting to secure her erotic hold on him and leave him with a vivid memory of her fellationistic talent before the festival, before anyone else could make a play for him. There was something about this man she wanted, she told herself as her lips pulled hungrily at his still growing cock, her tongue boring at the widening hole of his prickhead. It wasn't just his wealth either.
The Latin bombshell dismissed thoughts of the future from her mind, threw herself totally and passionately into the present as she felt Hamilton about to come, felt the sperm building in his heavy balls and the tightening in his long shaft.
"Mmmm, come for me," she purred, her words muffled by the prick she held between her juicy lips. "Come gushing into me! Let yourself go, man, let that thick creamy sauce come flying out of your big prick the way you know you want it to! I know there'll be more to come, and next time you can put it someplace even hotter and wetter than this mouth of mine! Come on, darling, shoot! Shoot, let me taste your good rich sperm, let me swallow the salty tangy taste of you! Come on, baby, now shoot! Shoot! Shoot!"
"OOOHH, CHOQUITA, I'M-GOD, I CAN FEEL IT BUILDING-FEEL IT SWELLING-SO NEAR-SO VERY NEARAAAAHHHH-OOHH-OH, CHOQUITA, YES! GOD, I'M COMING! I'm COMING, COMING, COOOMMMIIINNGGG!"
Thick spurts of boiling hot liquid shot into the Brazilian fellatrix's welcoming mouth, coursing hungrily down her ready throat, her greedy lips sucking him as more and more gobs of the hot liquid coated her mouth, wrenched from the depths of Hamilton's cock by her loving, sensuous talents, and she thought as she felt the last ebbings of his orgasm ooze into her quenching mouth that here was a rare man indeed. Such tasty sperm, she thought to herself, and so much! Jesus, how she had made him come. And she smiled with pride at this confirmation of her pornographic expertise, knowing, that with a man like Miles behind her, her career was assured ... and so were her satisfactions.
Reluctantly she bobbed him from her mouth, sat up and kissed him, a long deep kiss with love and lusty anticipation on her part, dazed gratitude for a superb orgasm on his. As Hamilton was tasting a strong hint of his sperm on her tongue, the limo began to slow, and the two realized, as if returning to reality from some erotic dream, that they must be almost at the Festival. Hurriedly, Choquita pulled the millionaire's tuxedo trousers back up, pausing to lick him clean, and Miles helped her adjust her gown back over the breasts that fascinated him so much. Then after a last brief kiss, the chauffeur was opening the door and the roar of the crowd of randy celebrants on the street greeted them. Spotlights shone on them and camera bulbs flashed as the two stepped from the car, glowing happiness on their faces, and walked arm in arm down the red carpet, to the festival, where Choquita was among the guests of honor.
And as they entered the immense banquet hall, the lusty roar of the envious crowd ringing in their ears, both Miles and Choquita knew that here at last they had each found something too good to let go ... something too promising to end. And as Choquita whispered a dirty Spanish comment in his ear, Hamilton laughed and laughed, wondering just where his newly-acquired film company would shoot her next picture.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Robert and Mara's taxicab arrived in front of the Festival hall just in time to see a limousine pulling away and a wealthy man and smashing-looking South American woman entering. The journalist and his secretary hopped out of the cab, the roar of the boisterous mob on the sidewalks deafening in the raucous Manhattan night, and presented their tickets to the doorman.
The contrast between the sidewalk roar and the lobby chatter was stunning. The banquet hall, once a plush theater in earlier days, was packed with wall-to-wall people, tuxedoed socialites back to back with Village intellectuals in faded jeans, milUon-dollar porn stars jammed against horny stockbrokers. The crowd was jovial and excited, and an electric air of anticipation was everywhere, imparting a certain indescribible tension to the evening. Both Mara and Robert sensed the expectation in the air, and each realized that tonight was going to be something memorable-though just how memorable they never would have believed!
The program for the evening, being passed out by scantily attired candy girls, called for screenings of several new films, followed by introductions to the porn stars who were attending in person, and then the real hit of the evening, those same world-famous sex stars performing their specialties live and on stage for the audience. Every big name in porn films was to be there that night, and most of them were scheduled to perform. Most of the superstars were secreted backstage in waiting rooms, realizing wisely that they could not dare appear in the crowd for fear of being almost literally raped to death by the horny, happily libidinous crowd.
The bells chimed for the beginning of the activities, and Robert and Mara felt themselves being drawn along with the rest of the crowd as they surged in towards their tables, the theme music of the Festival already beginning from the stage.
As they were led to their table by their luscious, nubile young hostess, Robert and Mara surveyed the hall, amazed at the hundreds of people present and impressed by the lavishly decorated stage, lined with backdrops that were huge enlargements of erotic scenes from the films to be shown that night, and topped by an enormous film screen that would be one of the focuses of the evening. The other focus, a velvet-padded sex stage that was something like a bedroom and something like a gymnasium, gave lurid promise of more personal excitements to come.
As the audience quieted down in anticipation, the orchestra played and an emcee appeared from behind the curtains, jauntily striding to the microphone, flashing a big smile at the audience. He was a late-night talk show host, famed for his handsome vacuity and his naughty questionings, and the audience broke into a mixture of applause and friendly catcalls as he began introducing some of the film makers and their models who were in attendance. Mara caught the names of Rene DuBauche and two girls of hers, and of Mona Reymond, and the spotlight singled out each at their respective tables. DuBauche nodded curtly, Mona taking the opportunity to pull off a grandiose, yet somehow imperial bow. Other names were called and other celebrities stood as the audience broke into an avalanche of cumulative applause. With the preliminaries out of the way, and the audience primed for action, the real entertainment for the lustful evening began.
The screen descended to musical accompaniment, and by the time the emcee was safely offstage, the house lights had dimmed to a movie theater darkness, evoking suggestive hooting from the audience. Then the screen lit up, and from offstage, the emcee announced the first erotic film of the evening, a screen adaptation of Helen Highwater's Blazing Thighs, starring the Latin bombshell, Choquita.
Since each two-hour film would have been impossible to show in entirety, the producers of the festival had compromised on condensed, highly ex plicit excerpts from each film, clips that would present the best scenes from each in an erotic potpourri. The scene from Blazing Thighs was such an excerpt, and introduced the sultry Choquita as a horny Mexican peasant girl who goes to America to make her fortune. Finding employment as a migrant farmworker, her tanned beauty soon wins her the favor of her swarthy, lusty field boss, and the excerpt now being shown was the first encounter between the two.
Robert and Mara watched with rapt arousal as the screen came alive the tawny flesh of the Brazilian starlet, her body glistening in the sunlight as her huge companion brutally rips away her work dress, her long tanned legs spreading wide as strong hands force her down onto the dirt of the field. The camera played about her face in a close-up as she licked her lips hungrily, her eyes closed to languid slits as she regarded the man atop her lustfully, her breathing ragged and husky in anticipation.
Seconds later, the camera closed in on the immense length of the boss's cock as he stripped off his jeans, tracking in as it moved between the woman's waiting thighs and probed eagerly against the wet and hungry lips of her slowly undulating pussy, its throbbing lips closing eagerly about the tip of the thrusting cock.
Mara felt herself becoming aroused by the torrid images on the screen, the entire situation of an erotic film festival and an audience of hundreds of horny enthusiasts like herself turning her on more than she would have believed possible. A well-known tingling was creeping up her torso from her loins, a hot fiery fever that was beginning to course through her body at the lewd, wanton sights she was experiencing on the screen. Her eyes riveted to the screen, she felt herself squirming in sympathetic excitement as she saw Choquita writhing under the thrusts of the big cock on the screen, its bloated, rock-hard mass twisting brutally in and out of her hot cunt, her sweat-filmed hips clenching desperately at the immense organ.
The red-haired woman felt a surge of lust from her empty cunt, an empathetic need for sex that was, she realized with surprise, building powerfully into a consuming need for sex. Any sex, with anybody ... but her ravenously hungry cunt must be filled, her smoldering body would have to be brought off! As she continued to watch the screen in fascination, a shuddering spasm of desire shook her, and with difficulty she wrenched herself away.
"Rob?" she whispered, her voice hoarse with lust, her breathing ragged. She looked at her handsome escort, his attention totally engrossed in the screen. His eyes were dilated, his breathing heavy, as was everyone's around her. "Rob!" she hissed, her hand going to his crotch under the table.
Her hot pressure on his bulging organ brought his attention from the screen to her, and instantly the red-haired girl knew that he was aroused enough to be ready for anything. His eyes were glazed with lust from what he saw on the screen, and his handsome face was flushed with his arousal.
The audience around the two were moaning softly in appreciation of Choquita's torrid performance, as she thrust mightily against her brutal invader, and in that low groaning of hundreds, Mara leaned forward to whisper urgently into her lover's ear, her excited tongue flicking restlessly against him while she whispered.
"Christ, Robert," she purred, "if you only knew how wet I am down there. If you could only know just how hot she's getting me! Jesus, how horny I've become! I never knew a porn flick could turn me on so much, but, lover man, I've just got to have you! And I mean now!" she hissed, squeezing the bulge of his crotch for emphasis.
Robert gulped, his throat dry with his rising need. "Hold on, love, this isn't an airplane washroom, you know! Look at this crowd. How the hell can we-"
She squeezed his balls again, more fiercely this time, and a spasm of pain and need shot through him "But I want you. God how I want you, Mara! I want to feel your mouth on me, I want to fuck you deep. God!" he gasped, as her skilled hand began working his throbbing erection through the tight fabric of his pants.
"You just leave it to Mara, lover man," she whispered, punctuating herself with a squeeze of her palm. "I'm going to suck you right here-right in the middle of this whole damned crowd! And I'm going to make you come, lover, believe me! You're going to come right into my mouth, and no one around will suspect a thing!"
Robert started to protest, but before he could speak she had disappeared under the table, her luscious form hidden by its floor-length tablecloth. His last glimpse had been the white of her thighs as she slid under, her eyes mischievous and wickedly sparkling.
What happened next was a blur in Robert's fevered mind, a confused swirl of sensations that he swam through dazedly, guided on by his lust and the brazen ribaldry of the night. With no one to speak to, he turned his eyes back towards the screen, awaiting Mara to begin her fellating.
On screen, Choquita, as the Mexican peasant girl, was now on top, riding her muscular young stud like a prize bull, her sultry face a wildcat mask of blazing desire as she thrashed atop his impaling organ. The bronzed jugs of her breasts bobbed enticingly as she moved, and writhed in the field, the blazing sun shining off her tanned and naked skin, filmed with sweat and the dirt of the field. Aliens felt his mouth go dry with it, felt himself burning with vicarious desire even while he felt himself being sensuously unzipped below by the inquisitive Mara. As he watched Choquita's ripe nipples sway in the southwestern sun, he felt his redheaded secretary's slender fingers probing into his pants, felt those hot fingers closing about the source of his lust. He heard a muffled sigh of appreciation from under the table as he felt himself bobbing free, and then there was a hot sweet mouth sucking happily at his cock.
Through the daze of his desire, Robert realized the unreality of the situation, the delicious eroticism of the whole thing. This was every man's fantasy, he thought, as the Irish woman's talented mouth bit and sucked and licked at his throbbing tool. To be sucked by a beautiful woman, in public, with no one knowing ... was every man's fantasy, and he was as determined as she to enjoy it.
Mara, hidden under the table as if in a tent, sucked harder at the throbbing organ she held in her mouth, her fingers playing with the sack of balls she had unearthed from deep within his crotch. As she sucked more fiercely, she was gratified to feel him squirm and stiffen helplessly, and to hear him moan low in his throat. Redoubling her efforts, she began to massage the base of his prick with her free hand, her delicate fingers twining about his pubic bush and working rhythmically at his swollen cock. Her cheeks puckered about the enormity of his thrusting, writhing organ, his hips twisting vainly in his seat as he strove to thrust deeper into her hotly welcoming mouth while at the same time trying to seem inconspicious to the rapt movie-goers about him. Smiling gleefully at the predicament she had him in, the redhead noted with pride the bulging of his cock and the ominous swelling in his balls, guessing rightly that she would not have to work too much longer to make him shoot, to feel the hot geyser steam of his sperm gushing deep into her hungry mouth. And then, she told herself ecstatically, once she had brought him off underneath the table, it would be her turn.
Realizing how close she had him to coming, and anxious to finish him off so that she could get a little action for herself, the wickedly smiling Mara concentrated herself on orchestrating her cocksucking into a steady rhythm, knowing that a quick steady stroke brings off a man like nothing else. Her mouth sucked hungrily while her tongue traced eagerly around the bulbous head of his throbbing organ. Her right hand massaged the length of his shaft, milking his big prick and guiding his sensations in the directions of his spermflow. Her other hand played with his balls, kneading and gently squeezing each testicle, urging them to shoot their load, to spill their spunky contents out into her aching, needy mouth, urging him with her touch to shoot deep into her, to spill himself violently into her honeyed mouth, to let his boiling sperm blast out and fill her.
"Yes, love, shoot," she hissed, whispering just loud enough to be sure he heard every word but too softly for others to overhear. "Shoot that hot load of come from those balls. Shoot it hard! Feel when I squeeze your balls, like that? God, how heavy they are! You must have quarts down here, stud! Yes, quarts, and all for sweet little Mara! Hot, horny, cocksucking little Mara! God, I want to taste you, Robert. I want to taste your hot spicy come in my mouth!" She sucked at him viciously till she saw his fists clench in agony and need. "Feel how much I want you? Come, lover man, fuck that big hard prick of yours into my mouth. Come like the lion you are! Fill me full and make me swallow you all up! Drown me with it, drown me with your seed! Come, Robert, come!"
He was on the verge, she told herself, and engulfed his trembling cock with her mouth again, working one hand to squirm back from his testicles to the valley of his ass-cheeks, till at last her finger was poised just below the forbidden entrance. A spasm of lust and anticipation shook him as he realized what she was about to do, and as the red head felt the volcano of his orgasm beginning, she drove her finger brutally up his asshole, shoving it crookedly up that sensitive passage and biting down hard on his spasming cock. Then he came!
"AAAAGGGGHHHHHH!" he moaned, muffling his helpless groans with his hand, straining to sit still while his come erupted from him, breaking loose to drive deep into the girl's whorishly welcoming mouth, to deluge her with the salty tanginess of his seed.
"Mmmmmmm, good," she hummed to him, greedily downing gulp after gulp of his thick rich sperm, sucking warmly at the slowly deflating hardness of his cock while her tongue lapped steadily and patiently at his tip, sucking first the flow, then the trickle, then the ooze, until after a moment his sperm was spent and his shrinking cock plopped contentedly from her mouth.
Her own breathing was ragged, her cunt hot beneath her skirt and her breasts dying to be squeezed. Her pussy ached for a good licking, a licking the way she knew only Robert could do it, and with mounting eagerness she tucked him lovingly back into his fly, zipping him carefully and rearranging herself so as to look fairly straight when she re-emerged. She licked the sperm from her lips, savoring the tartness of Robert's personal taste, and promising herself that a sucking as good as she gave him would bring a reward in the sucking he would give her. Give her, she decided, now.
Lifting the tablecloth a little to make sure the coast was clear, the redheaded secretary slithered agilely up from under the table, sliding nimbly into her seat and regarding the man she had just brought to orgasm. His eyes were still glazed from the orgasm. His lips were dry and his face flushed, but there was appreciation in his eyes and understanding in his smile as he looked her up and down, glanced around the exhibition hall at the audience, which was still engrossed in the climax to Choquita's clipping, and disappeared beneath the table, licking his lips while Mara spread her legs beneath the cloth and sat back into her seat with a contented, waiting smile.
The backstage dressing room where the porn superstars were waiting on their turns to perform was a small area, and crowded even more closely tonight because of the performers packed wall-to-wall. The offstage dressing room was secluded and difficult to get to, chosen for its privacy so that the erotic stars could sit and wait without having to deal with mobs of their horny, overenthusiastic fans. They were connected to the PA system so that each performer could keep track of the onstage doings and hear his or her introduction and cues, and the atmosphere in the crowded room was thick with tension, suppressed sexual excitement, and marijuana smoke. The stars chatted nervously among themselves passing someone's pipe from hand to hand.
A portable bar had been provided in one comer, and wine and brandy were making the rounds along with the pipe as the highly sexed, highly excited young studs and starlets strove vainly to suppress their lusts for each other.
The lively conversation in the cramped quarters was mixed with the background noises of the film soundtracks coming over the PA system from the auditorium, and gradually the already highly aroused performers began to respond subtly to the passionate gasps and sounds of sex coming to them from the PA system. Their talk of contracts, scripts, close-ups and prolonged fellatio turned gradually towards the nitty-gritty of hard sexual action as their intensive preparations for stage performances fanned the smoldering fires in their loins.
In the comer, beside the bar, two starlets were discussing their porn technique. One was a Manhattan girl, sensuous in her slinky sequined gown, and the other was a California girl, exuding a wild animal attraction with her tanned health, free-falling blonde hair and provocative cut-off hot pants. Both were young, and except for dress and hair color-the New York girl was brunette-might well have been twin sisters.
"Mmmmm, I like to trace my tongue up and down his shaft first," remarked the Manhattan girl casually, sipping her drink. "And then take the tip in. I tell you, honey, it ruins the effect on camera if you just dive down and swallow him up. No suspense. What the audience wants is suspense, that delicious erotic waiting, that sense of titillation. The longer you tease, the better."
"Bullshit," retorted the California girl, tossing her blonde mane carelessly. "What they want is the aggressive approach. They want a woman who comes on strong, like she knows what the hell she's doing, not like some fucking virgin who can't make up her mind. Unless," she hastened to add, "the virgin-seduction thing is what the script is all about." She raised her whiskey glass, downed it's contents, and reached for more.
"Girls, if I may?" asked a handsome, sun-bronzed stud, handing the blonde her bottle of Jack Daniels. "I was listening, and believe me, I agree with-ahh-I saw you in After Class Spankings, Ms., but damned if I can remember your-"
"Antonia," said the brunette, smiling warmly at the compliment, and at his agreement with her side. "Antonia Hawkins, but for you, babe, I'm Antonia." She swallowed drily, her blue eyes taking in his tall, muscular beauty, wishing that she could wangle a script assignment with him sometime. But first, his name....
"Marc. Marc Richards," he supplied, as if reading her thoughts. He smiled, white teeth beneath a golden surfer's mustache. "That was a damned good blowjob you were giving your man in After Class. The teasing you were doing had me on the edge of my seat ... professionally as well as personally. Yes, I'd definitely have to say," he said, turning to the bosomy blonde girl, "that the tease method is the best. Unless, of course, you'd care to prove otherwise."
The girl smiled, as did the brunette, arid together they were moving closer to their new found colleague.
On the sofa, scrunched shoulder to shoulder in the crush of bodies, sat Regina Montaz and Robert LeCoq, each absorbed in the other's beauties. They had first met in Paris the summer before, doing promotionals for their respective films, but had not met again until tonight. LeCoq, a suave Frenchman, signed by Mona Reymond's studio after a particularly grueling interview, sat cozily with his arm about Regina's bare shoulders, his fingers idly caressing her flesh while her hand stroked the inside of his loin-clothed thigh, her swarthy Spanish dark skin against his Continental tan.
"I loved you in Diary Of a Wanton Daughter, Regina," purred the French man, his eyes taking in the lush promise of her bosom in its tight bikini top. "You were so erotic-especially that scene where you seduced your virgin younger sister, by the country riverbank! Such expression, such luxurious sensitivity, such marvelous erotic control-and so passionate! I thought you would crush the poor nymphet with those strong thighs of yours! So strong, so sensuous ... so inviting!"
The olive-skinned woman smiled warmly at this enthusiastic praise from a man she was so attracted to, her raven hair falling in curvaceous waves down to her breasts, their wide nipples obviously hardening and swelling with arousal beneath the flimsy material. The French man's crotch, she noticed as her hand strayed playfully closer, was also hardening, his tight satin leopard-print loincloth bulging and stiffening like a tent as his obvious erection, out-lined clearly beneath the thin, almost transparent cloth, thrust against it. The sexual tension in the room was intense, so heavy that the girl felt dizzy and breathless from the intensity of the others' arousal-and her own. The small room, close-packed with provocatively clad and nearly nude bodies, was like an erotic powder keg, some immense sexual time bomb waiting to be set off by the right word, the right action. The inevitable action.
Regina smiled again, leaned closer towards her flirtatious and horny companion, knowing that her pose revealed to him the lush valley between her ripe breasts. "Mmmmm," she purred. "Yes, my thighs are inviting, aren't they, Robert? Inviting, yes ... and down here my hand has discovered your R.S.V.P....and, oooohhhh, so hard! So long! Such a marvelously warm response to my invitation! And-and, Mmmmmmm, what a party it will be!"
Her slender fingers closed hungrily about his swelling crotch and she kissed him hard, her tongue seeking his, her breath hot and heavy in his mouth. Suddenly she was aware of a strange silence in the room, an electric stillness. Hesitantly she broke the kiss, allowed LeCoq to push her away.
Regina sat up, looked dizzily about the small room. All eyes were on her, and on her hand over LeCoq's massive and obvious erection, her fingers still manipulating absentmindedly at his hardness.
The tension was unbearable. Until Regina's move, the small room had been relatively unsexed, despite the high level of erotic desires. It was as though some kind of unspoken truce had been agreed to by all, that under the circumstances they would refrain their natural impulses to ball till a better time. Regina had shattered that, and the entire room held its breath, barely concealed erections against out-lined nipples, wide eyes and dry mouths against thin costumes and flimsy restraining fabrics.
Suddenly there was a scream of anguish and frustration from a girl standing next to Regina and the dazed LeCoq. While the others stared, spellbound, the girl stomped her naked feet, tossing her long mane of red hair from side to side in unbearable frustration, her hands ripping away the sheer belly-dancer's veils that she was to wear as costume.
"I can't take it anymore," she screamed, her voice rich with English accent. "This whole bloody show is too much! God, I've never wanted to fuck so bad in my entire life! Three days now, I haven't touched a cock or a tongue or a cunt, getting ready to perform for them tonight, and I fuckin' can't take it anymore! I've got to have some bloody fuckin' or die!" Frantically she tore away the metallic belly-dancer's bra that covered her apple-sized breasts, and there was a chorus of involuntary gasps as the room beheld her rounded globes, their small pink nipples taut with desire. Trembling with passion, snaking with madness, the redhead stripped away her golden panties, flinging them against the wall revealing her naked ass and the red bush of her cunt, her thighs spread apart as she stood and her body feverish with the urgency of her need.
"For Gawd's sake, somebody," she screamed, her voice desperate with frantic desire. "Somebody give me a cock, a tongue, a cunt, something!" And before any of the stunned, lust-drugged onlookers could react, the redhead threw herself violently against LeCoq, her hands going frantically to his groin, seizing his loincloth and tearing it up and away with the sound of ripping cloth.
Lecoq's massive, eagerly erect organ sprang up, freed of its long captivity, its swollen head bobbing towards the lust-crazed redhead's awed and open mouth. "Gawd, yesss!" she moaned, and threw herself down upon his prick, her feverish mouth swallowing him up at a stroke, his thick trunk embedded in her wetly sucking mouth, her thrashing buttocks naked to the rest of the room as she sucked.
Stunned, LeCoq tried to lift the girl off him, then surrendered helplessly to the pleasure she was giving him as she intensified her deliriously urgent head, her talented mouth working desperately at his needy cock. Regina, sitting dazed beside him, stared with opened mouth as her companion's cock disappeared down this sex-crazed redhead's throat.
Pandemonium broke out in the small room, the girl's thrashings and shamelessly waving butt provoking an explosion of protests, jealousy, shock and awed gasps as the highly sexed professionals watched the obscene exhibition before them.
Suddenly the babble of voices was broken by Antonia, the slinky Manhattanite in the sequined gown, as she shrieked and shattered her glass against the wall. "Goddammit," she screamed, her carefully coifed hair now disheveled and cascading loosely down her back. "I can't take it anymore, either! What the hell can that bitch have that I have to deny myself for a lousy performance? Fuck this restraint, I want a man and I want one now!" And to the others' shock, she took hold of the front of her low-cut dress, her manicured fingers taking firm hold just above her magnificent breasts, and pulled, ripping the castly gown down the middle, its sequins popping as she rent the flimsy garment to reveal her nude body to them all, her breasts heaving with desire, her eyes flashing with lust, her smooth belly and dark-haired loins writhing with the cat-in-heat urgency of her want.
Before he could act, the tall blond she had been flirting with found himself seized and pulled to the floor, dragged down by Antonia's naked arms while the California girl excitedly joined in, her eyes flashing with excitement, her breath ragged with desire. Flat on his back, he found himself pinned by the panting Antonia while the equally lusty blonde took firm hold of his low-cut jeans, tugging them off to expose the bobbing length of his massive cock, blushing pinkly amidst the crowd of stunned, wide-eyed performers.
"Mmmmm, yess, damn straight, yes!" hissed Antonia as she positioned herself to straddle her pinned stud, glancing happily over her shoulder as her newfound blonde partner excitedly peeled the last of her clothing, dropping her panties to the floor and dropping to her knees beside her, her hands running first over the bewildered stud's body, then over Antonia's, her lips sampling both of them.
Unable to take anymore, Regina hurled herself across the room to a well-hung superstar, jumping off the couch where the redhead was busily fellating LeCoq and throwing herself to her knees before the stud. "I've always wanted to find out whether you're really as well hung in real life as you are on the screen," she gasped, her hands going to the fly of his jeans. "And now I'm going to!" As the stunned stud looked down at her, her ringers skillfully found his zipper and hauled out his already hardened cock. "God!" she gasped, her tone both excited and reverent. "You're bigger than I-than I ever dared to dream! Like alike a fucking stallion!" she moaned, and then threw herself backwards to the floor, her legs sprawled wide in invitation, her hands ripping away the buttons of her flimsy see-through blouse. "Fuck me, man. God, please fuck me!" she cried, and in seconds he was eagerly obeying, dropping between her parted thighs and guiding his immense sausage into her wet and writhing cunt as she struggled to remove the rest of his clothing. "Uuuhhhh, UUUHHHH, UUUGGHHHHHH!" moaned the Spanish woman as he sank in to the hilt in her warm depths, her body trembling and her lips mouthing soundless Spanish curses.
All this had taken only a few seconds, happening almost too fast for those in the room to realize what had gone down. Now it was as if the entire room had been released from some shocked trance, and each was coming awake and realizing that it was not just some erotic dream, but that this wanton explosion of long-repressed lust and suppressed desires was actually happening! One by one, the porn stars turned away from their friends and co-stars on the floor or on the sofa, and turned to one another, cocks hard, cunts hot, eyes ablaze with passion.
"Well, come on. Are you going to follow the example and fuck me or not?" taunted one lush brunette from Chicago to the handsome New Yorker beside her, and with a groan of lust he swooped down on her, his hands going to her hips and breasts through her long gown, his mouth burning feverishly against her throat as, laughing, her hands found their way to his fly. "Oh, no you don't," interjected a blonde from L.A., once a Vegas chorus girl, as she thrust her bare arms between the groping couple. "This one's mine, I picked him earlier, so fuck yourself, honey," she hissed, struggling to wrest the man's cock from the brunette's grip. "Hell," laughed the brunette recklessly, "why not make it a menage?"
"Goddammit," exclaimed a wide-eyed teenager from Chicago, her big ripe breasts heaving with her passion. "I want in on some of this myself!" she gasped, as a tall redhead from Manhattan dragged her to the floor, his mouth seeking her hot cunt beneath her hot pants, his cock already out and being worked by a panting young man from Paris, his own cock firmly embedded in the writhing cunt of Antonia, who had by now exchanged places with her blonde partner and was feverishly tonguing the delirious stranger beside her.
The mad bacchanalian orgy swept the room like a brushfire, woman after woman spreading herself on the floor a heap of bodies, and stud after stud dragging down some panting starlet into a sea of twisting limbs and groaning, sweat-filmed flesh In seconds, the available floor space was filled as writhing bodies packed against each other on the carpeted dressing room floor, and the couches and chairs groaned under the weight of couples and threesomes in exotic positions, the squeaking of the furniture matching the groans of the celebrants.
"UUUUUGGGGHHHH" moaned a topless redhead as her stud supported her above the bodies on the floor, her sex-crazed weight lifted bv his strong hands cupping her buttocks, her thighs wrapped weakly around his slim waist as his swollen cock pistoned urgently in and out of her trembling, quaking cunt, her slender body wracked by sobbing passion as the rigid shaft of meat pummeled her again and again. "God but that's good, Alec. Fuck, fuck, fuck me, you magnificent stud. Yes, pump that hard hose right up my-my-ooohh-my cunt and-ooohh-and make me-make me-make me AAAAHHHHHGGGGGGHHHHH!" she screamed, and collapsed limply in his arms, her thighs loosening, her head lolling unconsciously behind her with her hair trailing down, sweeping the nakedly thrusting behinds of two women alternately eating the same man, but her cunt still tight around the massive cock that had fucked her into unconsciousness.
Laying her down in the comer, Alec picked his way carefully between the writhing bodies on the floor, returning to the two fellating women-one white, the other black. Squatting beside the black girl, he tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to his urgently erect cock. Smiling appreciatively, the woman beckoned him down beside her, forsaking the groaning cock she had been sucking on, and spreading her tawny, chocolate-colored thighs wide for the beautiful white cock's entry into her brown depths. "OOOhhh, stud, yes, deep, deep," she crooned, clutching him to her while he sank slowly into her, his massive cock probing her cervix before he finally sank to the hilt. "Mmmmm, nice," she panted, tonguing his ear passionately, guiding his white hands to the black globes of her ripe, fleshy breasts. "Yesssss!"
Against the closed dressing room door, Marsha Wythe, the anal sex star of Broad River, found herself pinioned by two strong studs, one fucking her up her cunt, the other pumping lustily up her wide and well-lubricated ass, their synchronised rhythms sending waves of pleasure coursing up her from both the front and the rear of her loins, and her hands strained to caress them both, one hand cupping one pair of ass-cheeks, her other hand feverishly squeezing another. Her thighs wrapped first about one set of strong legs, then about the other, and her hoarse sobs and moans filled the small room with passionate intensity as the sighs, groans, moans, panting, and orgasmic screams of the others blended into a powerful erotic symphony, an aural orgy of shameless lust and frenzied couplings as the writhing, thrashing bodies on the floor changed partners, gave final heaves and rolled off for brief rests, mounted and remounted, grouped and moved away, like some great sweating human sea of sex, with waves of flesh undulating back, forth, side to side, breathing and panting and moaning with lust.
Someone's naked body hit the light switch, and the room was plunged into blackness. No one noticed, and the fucking went on uninterrupted, flesh against flesh, tongue against cunt, cock against ass, breasts ground against chest, while, above the shrieks and pants and groans, the PA system, oblivious, continued on: "And now, the next film will be...."
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Festival continued on schedule as the next film clip, an excerpt from Rene DuBauche's latest film-a seduction segment starring her new discoveries, Tina and Louise, as two high school girls who discover their Lesbianism one lazy, languid afternoon after class-was shown. The lights again dimmed, and the emcee retired backstage, adjusting his microphone with one hand, smoothing back his boyishly ruffled hair with the other.
Out of the comer of his eye, he watched the picture, a torridly powerful scene with Louise slowly undressing the frightened, lust-numbed Tina while cooing reassurance to the uncertain girl. With his other eye, he was watching the audience, remembering the striking redhead in the front row, the one by the reporter who had interviewed him earlier, and wishing he could have a chance at her.
Irish to look at her, he thought, and God what lovely boobs on her! His mind's eye conjured a picture of her, and he savored the long curves of her legs dangling this side of the table, the disheveled appeal of her long red hair, the hungry sparkle of her green eyes as she watched him ... staring straight at his crotch, the bitch!
With some surprise, he remembered her winking at him, and looked down self-consciously to see if ... yes, he had an erection, damn her! Must have had it while he was onstage, too. Damn her fucking sexiness! He was dying for her out there, and she knew it, and the way she kept licking her lips like that ... God!
So everybody in the place must have seen he had a hard-on. Well, helL he thought, dismissing his apprehensions, they'll all assume it's on account of the porn films. And maybe it is, he thought to himself, paying closer attention to the two Lesbians making passionate love on the screen.
"Mmrnmm, Marie," Louise was saying as she stroked the other girl's half-bared breasts, her other hand gently easing the feminine fabric of her blouse away from the white mound. "Such a lovely body ... such a very lovely body you have! So soft, so warm, so smooth ... yet so beautiful, so very hot, so very ... so very alive, Marie, so very real!" And then the older girl was burying her lips in the younger girl's hair, kissing down her forehead to her eyes, kissing each lash exquisitely, slowly, lingeringly, slowly moving down to kiss and gently tongue the girl's cheeks, then the tip of her nose, then sensuously around to her ears, flicking softly at them, caressing the younger girl as if she were a small timid fawn, seducing the nymphet with grace, style, calm, poise.
Goddamn, gulped the emcee, his hand going involuntarily to his bulging groin, shadowed in darkness. This is one hell of a "You!" The voice was female, raucous, drunk-sounding. Behind him. "You there, you! Come here!" Turning in the shadows, the emcee peered vainly into the backstage darkness, straining to distinguish a body for the voice. They could not be heard in the audience, he knew, but was still surprised that someone would be backstage without his knowing it ... and especially a woman.
"You, you've got what I want!" repeated the voice. No, he corrected himself, not drunk-more like drugged. And it was getting closer.
And then he saw her, stepping brazenly out of the backstage shadows. A naked young woman, staggering slightly as if dazed, her sleek smooth young body glinting dully in the dim light, her hair falling uncombed past her shoulders, her hips and breasts swaying freely, she walked uninhibitedly towards him.
Stunned, he said nothing, not knowing what on earth this apparition could possible mean. Glancing quickly about, he noticed that they were alone, the stage hands all out front watching the show. Dimly he recognized the woman as one of the professional porn stars.
"You've got what I want, Mister Television Man," she said, a cynical, careless tone making her folk singer's voice rough, coarse, sexy. "And what I want, I get. And you're about to give it to me," she purred, then pounced without warning.
Before he realized it, she had pushed him down to the floor, her strong, voluptuous thighs pinning his shoulders while she turned her back on him, her ripe full ass-cheeks thrust unconsciously into his face, and fumbled with his fly. Stunned, he felt the girl's hot slender fingers closing about the base of his cock, tugging his taut erection out of his expensively tailored slacks and cupping it in both hands appreciatively.
"OOooohhh, not bad," she purred excitedly, and bent swiftly to swoop him into her mouth. She sucked on him a moment or two, then popped back up, gripping his throbbing prick as if it were a meaty lollipop. "Nice," she sighed contentedly. "Very nice!" And before he realized what was happening, she was up on her naked feet, lifting him to a standing position with one hand, tightly gripping her long hard prize in the other. Standing dazed and stunned by this unexpectedly lewd assault, the emcee was at a loss, and the girl disregarded his mild protests as she began to lead him into the darkness of the backstage area, pulling him along by his rigid erection, her skillful fingers holding him tight while simultaneously massaging and working him in an improvised handjob. "Come on," she called back to him gleefully. "You're my prize catch, you know. You have what I need," she said, suddenly halting and pulling her dazed captive close. "And what I need is this!"
Without further delay, the naked girl leaned against the wall, her nudity cushioned by the heavy velvet curtains draped against it, and spread her legs wide, her feet flat against the wooden stage, her hips arched to expose her dripping, open cunt. Tightening her grip, she pulled him forward impatiently, guiding his pulsing cock towards her hungry hole while with her other hand she brought his mouth to hers, silencing his protests with her skillful tongue.
The emcee was dazed and unbelieving as this beautiful, unexpected wanton embraced him, her naked body enveloping him, slowly easing off his clothing while she tongued him, while with her other hand she thrust him expertly up and into her wet and ready cunt, his hard length easing slowly into the hot depths of her, sinking in to the hilt like a sheathed sword of lust.
"Mmmmmm, that's it, love," she purred huskily, raking her fingers down his naked back. "You've got the idea of my game, all right! Now, Mister Television Man, let's see how well you play!"
Without warning, she began to writhe and twist her hips against the wall, her lithe young ass squirming against the drapes while her pelvis ground against his loins, the damp heat of her pubic hair mingled with his as she manipulated his trapped organ. Thoughts of the show and of announcing were forgotten in the mad excitement of the woman's cunt, her experienced porn star's muscles milking him with cool finesse, her tight-coiled ass whipping wildly around, swaying his imprisoned cock to and fro like a seesaw. The older man stood staggered by this erotic onslaught, dizzied and overwhelmed, clutching to the lithe young woman who was using him as he strained to stay on his feet. His mind was an erotic whirlpool, his body a churning tempest of desire as his captive cock thrust back and forth in this shameless woman's whorishly expert cunt, her depraved young face transfigured by ecstasy, her beautiful body convulsing with the pleasure she was giving herself.
The man gasped as she slipped her hands behind him to straddle and grip his trim buttocks, her youthful fingers kneading the taut flesh there, her fingers probing his ass-crack, sending unbelievable sensations from his loins as she pressed him ever closer to her, her breasts now slapping frantically from side to side with the urgency of her motions. She thrashed against him, supported by the wall, her legs spread ever wide, her cunt straining to accept even more of his frenziedly pumping cock as she pushed him in from behind with both hands, desperately trying to squeeze every last drop of pleasure and stimulation from this man before her nymphomania-like urgency milked him dry, sucked his hot seed from him and left him limp and exhausted like so many of the studs in the dressing room she had just left.
"Come on, prick, yesss," she hissed greedily, her face flushing with excitement now that she felt her orgasm approaching. "Yes, that's right, fuck me, prick! Hard and long and hot, aren't you? Sure as hell never expected anything like this tonight, did you, prick? No, you couldn't have expected to be shoved up this hot little pussy of mine and fucked, fucked so hard and good until you come?" she purred lasciviously, excited at the reaction she saw her wanton words causing in the older man. "You couldn't have thought that you'd be shooting all that good, rich white sperm of yours into the cunt of a twenty-year old porn idol, could you? But you are" she gasped forcefully, raking her claws along the smooth flesh of his backside as she hammered her pelvis at him, her clitoris grinding and twisting frantically against him as she felt his cock stiffening, swelling with the tell-tale warnings of imminent orgasm. Frantically she wrenched her loins at him in one last pelvic heave, exploding herself and her captive stud at the same time.
"Ohh-Ohhh-OOOHHHH-III'MMM CCCOOOOMMMIIINNNNNNGGGGG!" she screamed wildly, her agony muffled as she bit deep into his naked, straining shoulder. "God you're making me come, stud. Your cock is-is--oh sweet fuckin' Lord, I'm coming againnnnnn!" she shrieked, her pussy twisting furiously against his imprisoned shaft of flesh, as if she were being impaled on it, her fingernails sinking deep into the small of his back, her head thrown back in animal abandon, her mouth open in frozen lust, her nipples hard and pointy against his sweating chest, her thighs tensed like iron against him. And then she collapsed, sinking unconscious to the floor in what, although her man could not know it, was her thirty-second orgasm of the night.
All he knew was that she had come twice atop each other, the wave of the first great orgasm crested by the second, almost equally intense one, and that together the combined impact-along with the pot and booze he smelled on her luscious breath-had driven her, senseless with ecstasy, to the floor. He was still clutched to her, his cock entrapped by a spasm of her muscles as she locked him in her unconsciousness, her insensible hands still weakly grasping his waist, her fainting thighs still gripping weakly against him as he lay atop her. As he lay her gently on the floor atop some unused quilts, the kind used for stacking delicate stage sets, he realized that he was still hard, his cock still firmly within this luscious, desirable young porn star whose name, husky voice and beautiful body were famous throughout the country, whose body was the desire of millions of men. And now, tonight, she was all his. Surveying the limp sprawl of her body beneath him in the dim backstage light, he admired her round, globular breasts, her nipples still firm and erect as she no doubt dreamed about sex in her fainting delirium, her waist slim and athletic with sex muscles, her neck slender and vulnerable with her head lolling like some fuck-sated animal, her hair framing the jaded, sensual, yet oddly serene face. And he licked his lips, relishing his unexpected good fortune, forgetting everything else except that, for him, the night was not over yet.
And, slowly, deliberately, sensuously, he began to thrust.
Further backstage, unaware that one of them had left the party to seek out the emcee or any other man, the dressing room orgy was continuing, its pace slackened only through the limitations of its studs. For almost an hour now, porn idol had fucked porn idol, fellatio experts giving joyous head to studs famed for their huge cocks, anally oriented girls opening themselves wide to cunnilingists, their darkened room turned into a free-for-all with no script. Their earlier repressions were now gone as, onstage performances forgotten, festivals dismissed, they fucked each other mindlessly, beautifully in a wall-to-wall sea of hot cunts, cocks, tongues, mouths, bellies, asses, buttcheeks, thighs and groping hands, their passions mounting amid the thrusts, moans, sighs, grunts, screams and slurpings of their couplings. And triplings, and any other combination. But now their studs had each had their fourth and fifth orgasms within the hour, and fatigue was setting in, the women getting jealous and pouty over it. Two and three women were ganging up to share the erect cocks left, while others were mouthing frantically to revive dormant, temporarily exhausted ones, and catfights were breaking out over who owned whose.
Staggering away from the darkened room, her dress ripped to shreds and hanging about her waist, her mouth, cunt, asshole and right hand stained and glistening darkly with the mingled scents and essences of a half-dozen different comes, male and female, stood a tall, curly-haired brunette from Chicago, shaking her beautiful head to clear it. On each arm hung a friend, all three supporting each other in their sex-drugged drunkenness. In the middle, stood the Chicago superstar, Gina Dawn, her tawny skin and heavy-lidded violet eyes flushed with arousal and excitement, and on either side of her stood her two naked partners, Rene DuBauche's Lesbian sensation Louise, her girlish nakedness somehow not inferior to her older friend's mature voluptuosity, and Billy Westmont, boyish actor famed for his virgin seduction roles. Together the three leaned dizzily against the wall, laughing drunkenly, their nudity forming an ensemble, Westmont's suntanned flesh against Gina's indoor, porn star pallor, Louise's youthful slimness contrasted with the fire in her eyes and the smooth, feline grace with which she supported the other two, her arms about their naked waists.
"Hell, why keep this thing to ourselves," said Gina hoarsely, licking the last traces of other's spending from her lips. "When there's a whole worldful of cocks and cunts out there. Hmmmm?' she purred inquisitively, looking her sex-dazec companions in the eye.
Recognition came slowly into their eyes, and then the two were smiling wickedly back at the voluptuous woman, their eyes sparkling with mischief-and desire. "But first a kiss," she said, pulling both of them to her and grinding her hips against theirs. "Mmmm," she murmured, her body responding to their warmth. "You two are something else. After all," she said, sighing contentedly, "a good boy and girl are hard to find. And believe me, you're both very, very good." The three laughed at the attempted joke, then began to stagger happily towards the stage.
The sex-maddened emcee was furiously thrusting at his now-revived porn idol, and the three passed by unawares in the darkness, their bodies aroused and their minds inflamed by the spontaneous orgy which they were now going to spread throughout the Festival, stumbling drunkenly towards the stage.
Robert was sitting in his seat as the latest film ended, his tongue idly tasting the traces of Mara's orgasm on his lips, his body pleased but still highly aroused by the heavy eroticism of the pictures on the screen. Mara leaned against him at the table, her slender arm draped lovingly, limply over his strong shoulders in the blissful afterglow of her recent orgasm, her breathing just now returning to normal and her eyes still glazed with lust. And although it looked as though they would not get a chance to try anything more satisfactory than mutual blowjobs under their table, she was eagerly anticipating getting her man back to their hotel room as soon as the Festival was over. After all, she told herself as she swallowed drily, an electric shiver of arousal setting her to trembling, she was only human, and these damned films were too much for her to take much longer without some real fucking action.
Glancing around her at the rest of the audience, it came to the redhead girl with a shock that most of the others seemed to feel the same way, seemed to be feeling the same pounding tensions, the same irresistible uncontrollable lusts. She noted the glazed eyes, the passion-flushed faces, the hard and excited breathing, the unmistakable tension in the men and women sitting around her, and the power of this massed eroticism awed her, the intensity of sexual tensions in this vast hall making her gulp.
Wouldn't be surprised if this turned into a full-fledged orgy, she thought, and as she realized how very possible this was, the thought sent her to shaking, spasms of anticipation and lust shooting through her slender, voluptuous form, her loins hot with excitement, her nipples taut beneath her flimsy blouse, her breathing hard and irregular with her suppressed need.
She looked across at Robert for confirmation, saw that he, like the others, was engrossed in the film which was just ending. His breathing, too, was more like panting, and like every other man, she could see he was sporting a poorly concealed erection. She looked at the women around her, saw their widened eyes and their opened, O-shaped mouths, their lips pursed unconsciously into a kissing or sucking position while they panted, their breasts heaving enticingly beneath their dresses, halters or see-through blouses as they breathed, their nipples out-lined clearly against the thin fabrics which encased them Mara surveyed them all, her sharp green eyes made even keener by the desperation of her arousal, taking them all in, noting their lust-reddened cheeks, their rapt expressions, every line of their features exuding lust. Damned horny lot, aren't you, she thought to herself, her eyes going from face to face, body to hot body, and God, how you'd like a man in you! Look at you, all of you, panting like whores, your mouths open like you were wanting something hard and long and solid to suck on, your eyes big as your nipples with wanting them! she thought. And look at your men! Look at those hard-ons they have for you, look at the way their knuckles are going white from gripping their seats with tension! Sure, it's the ones onscreen who're turning them on, but it's you they're going to be fucking tonight. It's YOU they're going to be pounding those hard cocks of theirs into. YOU that they're going to be exploding into tonight in your beds, when you've got those big wide thighs of yours spread like the sluts you are for them, clenching them to you while they pound you, driving deep, driving hard, the fucking studs, and you'll be loving it! Yes, loving it, she thought, her mind now inflamed with the intensity of her desire, her body responding to her lewd thoughts and to the bawdiness of the others. Loving it almost as much as I will be tonight, when I've got this one beside me now on top of me, driving hard, and I tell him he's my stud and urge him on! she thought, her cunt hot and wet with her anticipation, her mind reeling under the power of the erotic visions her fantasy was conjuring. Urging him to fuck me, ream me, pound the life out of me because I want his fucking cock so badly! Up my hot cunt, up my hot ass, in my mouth, between my breasts, in my hand, between my ass cheeks, back in my cunt again, his thick meat dripping with my pussy! And, aaaahhhhhh, I'm going to love it just as much as you will sisters when you get your own studs at home. Her body glowed with heat as she pictured it all. And I only hope your cocks are half as good for you as mine will be for me.
Her train of wanton thought was shattered abruptly, disorienting the beautiful redhead. "Wha-what?" she slurred dazedly.
"I said, this is going to be one hell of a night," Robert repeated, leaning towards her conspiratorially, his eyes appreciating her beauty.
"Oh-oh!" she replied, etching his meaning, and she winked back encouragingly, giving his strong thigh an affectionate and horny squeeze. If you only knew, lover man, if you only knew....
Robert traced her figure with his eyes, savoring her body's curves as he mentally fucked her, imagining in his mind her writhing beneath him on their hotel bed, her legs spread wide for him, she begging him to tuck her while his immense cock thundered in and out of her quaking cunt, her breasts steaming in his hands while she babbled mindless obscenities, her red hair thrashing from side to side as he ravished her. The thought sent waves of lust shooting from his throbbing cock, and feverishly he reached to touch her.
"Robert, look!" she exclaimed, her finger pointing towards the stage. At that moment, a great gasp of surprise went up from the audience, and Robert, wondering what the emcee could possibly be up to now, turned to follow her hand.
To his surprise, it was not the emcee who was parting the stage curtains now, stepping out from beneath the mammoth screen and drawing such gasps and exclamations from the shocked and approving audience. It was a woman, a naked woman, her hair disheveled, her walk staggering and careless, her breasts bare and well-formed, her legs long and sleek, her torso slim and sensuous with its dusky triangle of pubic hair below. Next to her was a naked boy and an equally naked young girl, slim as a willow, languid and sensuous. The crowd burst into stunned applause as the three made their way unsteadily towards the mike, leaning over each other for support, their hands idly caressing each other's bare flesh wherever they touched. Robert and Mara, as well as the rest of the audience, stared awe-struck as the tall, sexy looking woman in the center took the mike, held i to her lips as if it were a great metallic phallus.
"Awright, people," she said into the mike, her sexy, husky voice booming through the auditorium, roughened by sex and bourbon. "We've start ed what we all came here for, what you've all been waiting for." The audience sat on the edge of their seats, overwhelmed by lust and desire and surprise and suspense, waiting breathlessly for her next words.
"The Fuck has begun!" she roared, clutching her two nude companions against her, her hands going for their groins.
The audience went wild. Like a match touched to gunpowder, like a torch hitting dynamite, like a dam blasted open by a bomb, the sex idol's words boomed through the hall, her raucous reckless words resounding like a bedroom battle cry in the ears of the sex-fired men and women in the audience. A shocked silence filled the hall. And then, like an avalanche, like a bomb burst, the cry was heard in the balcony: "The Fuck has begun!" Then, louder this time, it sprang up in the back rows: "The Fuck has begun!" Then, louder still and shouted by several people this time, it roared out in the middle: "The Fuck has begun!" And then, like a tidal wave, like a bombshell, like nothing ever dreamed of before, hundreds of mighty voices roared out: "THE FUCK HAS BEGUN!"
Their restraint shattered by the porn star's brazen words, their inhibitions blasted by their mighty shout, the crowd threw to the winds its thin veneer of self-restraint, and table after table, row after row, aisle after aisle, the riotous festival-goers, their passions fanned by a night of films and months of expectation, their hot bodies inflamed by the shameless bawdry of the night, the vast festival crowd threw itself joyously into their long awaited, never-dared or dreamt of orgy of bacchanalian sex.
Projectors, overturned by riotous bodies in the aisles stripping away each other's clothes, crashed loudly to the floor, reels of film spilling from the camera, frames of brown celluloid each with its small scene of torrid lust rolling unnoticed down the aisles, winding about the naked ankles of laughing women and shouting men. Tables in the front section, set expensively with silver plate, crystal mugs, crashed shattering to the floor, remnants of meals and bottles of wine sliding to the floor as their users kicked them away from their chairs, stripping and tearing away each other's dresses, suits, coats, blouses, laughing merrily, raucously, free at last to fuck, to screw, to madly pound together in frenzied, reckless quest of the satisfaction their hot bodies craved.
Miles Hamilton swept the dishes from his private table with one hand while with the other, his manicured fingers shredded Choquita's expensive gown, his fingers gripping lustily at the Brazilian starlet's lush boobs while she tore away the last o his dinner clothing.
Wordlessly he seized her in his arms, swung her masterfully about and laid her, naked, on the roughly cleared table. "Now for a banquet of my own," he said tersely, his naked arms encompassing the sultry thighs, his head bending to her ho cunt, his tongue licking with anticipation as the pinkly glistening depths of her pussy opened eagerly for him.
Three tables down, Robert and Mara hat thrown themselves upon each other, dazedly gla( for this unexpected opportunity to take the fuck they so desperately were denying; themselves. The beautiful redhead lay on the table, her ass cushioned by a wad of discarded clothing, her thighs opened wide for her handsome man.
"God, yes, Robert, fuck me! Yes, come on in-ooohh, that's right, do it hard, hard!" His cock poised throbbing on the steaming verge of her pussy, her cunt writhing and squirming in readiness beneath him.
"God, yes, Mara," he groaned, thrusting deeply. "Yes! Fuck me, woman! Wrap those gorgeous freckled thighs round me and-aahh-yes, cunt, twist like that! Fuck me like that, hard, rough! Go on, be the she-cat that you are, the lusty uninhibited wildcat that you are! Yes, woman, go on, spit, claw! Writhe, damn you, that's right. Writhe beneath me till we come together, like thunder, shaking the roof down with our coming. All our coming," he said, gesturing widely to the others fucking beside them, behind them, underneath them, beneath the table. The auditorium was an echo hall of groans and shrieks and moans now, of sexy laughter and desperate moans, of the squishy sounds of fucking and the rhythmic beat of bellies slapping together, of butts hitting tables and floors and stage props. The redhead beneath him was a twisting, thrashing hurricane of hot trembling pussy, bucking and fucking beneath him as he strained to stay aboard, pinning her squirming shoulders with his hands while their tongues ground hotly against each other in their wetly joined mouths, his pulsing cock throbbing within her as their pulses raced, their bodies thrashing frenziedly together, their flesh feverish with long-suppressed needs.
On the stage just a few feet above them, the three who had started it all were happily servicing themselves and three newcomers from the audience in a sixsome, their bodies joined hotly while around them the audience of horny fans swarmed onstage, their cocks hard and their cunts wet, ready for action and looking for their idols. They hadn't long to look. The dressing room orgy was coming to an end as the PA system carried the news of The Fuck to them there. The superstars were emptying homily out, racing each other to the stage for the start of another round of their favorite sport-hard-core, free-for-all sex.
The two groups, fans and superstars, met onstage amid shrieks of awed and lusty discovery. Laughing heartily, the studs threw their eager fans to the floor, their legs spreading wide in sex-crazed disbelief, their hot pussies welcoming the hard length of their invaders while the porn women tripped their willing mounts to the floor, grasping their thrusting poles and guiding them expertly home, sinking down onto their rigid shafts with sighs of contentment, their skillful hips setting a driving, fast-paced rhythm matched to their own insatiable desires, while with their free hands they guided other young fans to their mouths, milking their throbbing organs in their glamorous mouths while each experienced hand held a pulsing prick, working them methodically in calculated strokes, nodding hungrily at the lines of men waiting impatiently to take the places of those they now held in cunt and hand and mouth.
Gina, the microphone forgotten now in the excitement of her pleasure, lay buried beneath two men from the audience, one thrusting his cock steadily, if a bit amateurishly, into her well-lubricated cunt, the other kneeling to service her wide and well-used asshole, the pressure of their two big cocks (she selected only the biggest) turning her loins into a blazing single hole of lust, the entire lower half of her body tingling and throbbing beneath their strokes. Kneeling over her with her face directly over Gina's was Louise, her slender girlish frame bent beneath a big Texan whose massive western cock stroked feverishly into her from behind, dog-style, his lust-reddened shaft plunging and reappearing frantically into and out of her tight young cunt. The two women's arms were locked together and their tongues twisted against each other in their joined mouths, their skillful lips exploring each other's sophisticated sensuality amidst the chaotic fucking of the festival, their minds intent on hedonistic pleasure, oblivious to all that was outside their own senses, their brains reeling with desire. Behind them, his small young cock plunging frenziedly into a shapely librarian from Schenectady, knelt their young friend Bobby, his fifteen-year-old face contorted with lust as he neared his own belated orgasm, the librarian beneath him, ten years his senior, moaning and moaning incoherently about being fucked by a real porn star.
The stage floor was packed with writhing bodies coupling, stars and fans from all over the country locked in thrashing embrace, $50,000 cocks pumping frenziedly in and out of $2.00 an hour cunts from Atlanta, superstar mouths wrapped suckingly about lawyer's cocks, prize flesh from Manhattan stroking department store managers from Denver, body against body, fucking madly, mindlessly, passionately.
The entire auditorium rang to the erotic sounds of grunts and groans as hundreds fucked each other, long daisy chains of joined bodies weaving down the aisles in writhing ecstasy, couples, threesomes and foursomes humping madly amid overturned tables and seats, makeshift beds of discarded clothing soaked with come and more come as women, their minds blown many men earlier, lay waiting for the next man, their legs spread whorishly open, their forms now limp with exhaustion but their cunts still hotly insatiable with new found desire.
Legs and asses dangled dangerously over the edge of the balcony, their owners oblivious to all except the pleasure of The Fuck, their bodies locked in lusty combat with total strangers ... men, women, anyone. Warm flesh against warm flesh, throbbing, pulsing, aching, coming!
Beneath one of the seats in the balcony lay Tina, Rene DuBauche's teenage bisexual star, her trim youthful body arched out beneath the weight of a man and wife from Philadelphia, his cock in her cunt and the wife's tongue thrashing madly over her face and breasts, the woman's own naked breasts hanging down to rub lushly over Tina's, the melon-like weights of the older woman's contrasting excitingly with the slender, gently sloping mounds of the young girl. "AAAhhhh, AAAAhhhh, III'MMM CCCOOOMMIIINNNGGG! "screamed the husband, his athletic young body stiffening with his orgasm, pinning the seventeen-year-old spread-eagled to the floor.
Mara and Robert looked up from their frenzied fucking on the banquet table as the sound of some immense fabric ripping filled the lower hall, and before their sex-drugged minds could focus, there was the sound of a huge heavy weight falling with a soft thud to the floor of the stage. Only then did Robert realize that a group of naked men, the muscles of their nude backs and buttocks glistening from their effort, had seized the stage curtains and yanked the heavy velvet down, crashing it to the floor. His fogged mind did not understand their reasons till he saw a dozen women, their faces flushed with sex and their naked beauties glowing beneath a film of sweat, hop laughingly onto the padding of the crumpled curtains and he down, their legs spreading in wanton invitation atop the immense velvet mattress. "Bravo!" he muttered thickly, his throat dry and hoarse with lust, and with a smile he returned to Mara, lost in her fifth or sixth orgasm since they had begun. He was working his way quickly towards his third, her body hot and wet beneath him.
"I'm CCOOOMMMIIIINNNGGGGG!" she screamed, her hips thrashing wildly and her body arching stiffly with the power of her orgasm, her nails raking brutally along his back, sinking into his tense butt-cheeks while her mouth opened in frozen ecstasy, her head thrown back in abandon and her voice hoarse with desire as she pumped ever more urgently at him, her experienced cuntal muscles sucking the seed from him, working him ever faster, ever harder.
"I-I-Fuck, Mara, I'm CCCOOOOMMMMMIIINNNGGGG! AAAAGGGGHHHHHHHH!" he roared, thrusting desperately into her with a shattering savageness as his boiling seed erupted from his spasming cock, his steaming sperm shooting from him explosively, thudding hard against the steamy walls of her welcoming womb to coat her thrashing insides with the hot spunky semen, gushing from him in burning spurts that were almost agony, pumping fiercely from his stabbing shaft of flesh as he thrust again and again, his hips pistoning against her thighs as her ass thump-thump-thumped the tabletop, her thighs twisting against him in frenzy, her arms locking him in tight, her teeth biting the flesh of his shoulder even as her nails raked cruelly along his oblivious back.
"AAAAHHHHHHHKHHHH," she moaned, savoring the release of his hot essence, her body the victor and triumphant, reveling in the sheer glory of their coming. Sighing, Robert sank down atop her, his dazed brain fighting through waves of dizzyness not to collapse exhausted upon her, propping himself up atop his woman with straining shoulders, arms that ached from a thousand thrusts, from a fuck that felt as though it had been going on for hours.
His brain fogged by lust, his senses swimming in the vertigo of final release, he rolled wearily off of her, only dimly conscious of movement and naked bodies thrashing violently on all sides of him, only vaguely aware of nude bodies fucking on the stage above him, the aisles to his left and right, of couples 69ing on the table beside him and the redhead whose need had left him drained and as dizzy as she, only slightly aware of groans and moans swelling in the auditorium as the entire group of hundreds of frenziedly copulating bodies neared a grand and shattering group orgasm, an unconscious group come that threatened to shake the building to the ground as it built in force, an explosive electric tension that built and built and built until...."Ooooooooooooohhhhh," wailed hundreds in unison, a low siren wail that was building gradually in power and intensity. "OOOOOO AAAAAAAHHHHHHH," it went, as hundreds of sex-maddened couples added their voices to the primal moan, the tribal come, the mass orgasm. "AaaaaaAAAAHHHHHHGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!" they screamed.
"FUCK!" they shouted in unison, their voices frantic with desire and near orgasm.
The cavernous hall rang to the explosion of hundreds of simultaneous orgasms, entire daisy chains writhing and convulsing at once, an entire stage writhing in joint coming, a hundred cocks spurting a hundred sperms into a hundred waiting cunts, the shuddering sobbing of a hundred orgasms shaking the building like an avalanche of lust.
And then, for Robert, it was over. The building quaking with orgasms, the table shaking as he and Mara slid slowly down and off to lie quiet beneath the shelter of the tabletop, resting. His sex-drugged mind overcome by the intensity of their coming and the wildness of his explosion, he passed out and slept, hid head against the redhead's unconscious thighs, his hand curled peacefully in her cunt.
"Robert? ... Robert, come on, Come on, we're going back to the hotel now."
Robert sat up groggily, his nakedness stiff from sleep. Mara was bent over him, her hair disheveled, her eyes sleepy with fatigue and satiation, wearing somebody else's raincoat over her nakedness, her bare feet revealed underneath.
"Come on, lover, get up. The party's still going on, but it's time for me to get us out of here." Her borrowed raincoat was unbuttoned, held together only by a sash at the waist, and with appreciation, his groggy mind noted the way her breasts pushed against the folds of the fabric, her nipples almost visible in the shadowy parting.
Couples were still going at it on either side of them, but more slowly now. It seemed to Robert as he struggled to his feet that the hall was much emptier than it had been, and it felt much later, almost midnight. He looked down at his wrist watch which said one o'clock.
She was handing him a shirt and a pair of jeans, not his own, and they were a tight fit. Where his own clothes were he did not think about or care about. He stepped over a couple-a teenage girl being fucked slowly, tiredly, by a bullish usher. He joined Mara, took her arm uncertainly and began threading their way up the aisle towards the door, over a series of writhing but mostly unconscious bodies, asleep in each other's embrace, their heads in each other's groins, their hands still clutching each other's breasts and dwindled cocks.
"I'm going to get you home, lover man," she said, her hand caressing his shoulder slowly, her steps uneven with the bodies scattered in their way. "And when I do, I'm going to haul out that great big erection you've got underneath those jeans and then you and me are going to have a private little orgy of our own. This place is far-out, but even for an orgy it's a little crowded for me."
Robert started to point out that she wasn't complaining an hour or so earlier, but then the ache in his erection got to him, and the thought of sinking deeply into the redhead's warm, well-opened pussy changed his mind.
"Sounds good to me," he said finally, and then they were outside flagging down a taxi. As the yellow car pulled up, he opened the door for Mara, and as the luscious, sleepy but horny woman got in, Robert watched her out-thrust ass out-lined in her thin overcoat, her naked body resplendent through the flimsy concealment. The two round fruit of her ass thrust at him as she climbed in and he felt his erection throb, then the blood coursing feverishly through his veins. His familiar desire returning.
Bidding affectionate farewell to the mad, bacchanalian orgy of the Festival, Robert followed his woman into the cab, his mind already picturing the delights of their bedroom, wondering if he would really be able to wait till they got back to their hotel.
CHAPTER NINE
The immense 707 caught the strong morning sunlight on its silver wings as it taxied down the runway, casting brilliant reflections in the big plate-glass windows of the airport coffee shop, the mighty roar of its racing engines muffled to a low undertone in the sound-proofed lounge. And then it lifted, slow-motion, into the air, lazily ascending like some kind of trick photography until it was out of sight of the coffee shop windows, and, the show over, the transient travelers looked away from the windows, turned back to their own casual conversations.
Robert and Mara sat in a booth, their baggage tickets tucked securely away, their half-finished coffees before them
"You know, boss man," said the beautiful redhead, absentmindedly studying her reflection in the black cup of coffee in front of her. "There's one thing that can certainly be said for this weekend...." She paused, toyed with her cup, gazing coolly into Robert's eyes, wisps of her long red hair falling girlishly about the sensuous green-eyed face that was anything but girlish.
"Yes?" he prompted, catching the playful banter of her tone, noting the mock seriousness, and at the same time noticing the rise and fall of her marvelous breasts in the low-cut blouse she wore, the shadowy valley they formed swaying gently as she spoke.
"It's been real" she replied, and they laughed together, warmly over their coffee, their eyes dancing with excitement, two healthy animals enjoying themselves after a weekend of good fucking before returning to their regular daily routines.
"No, but seriously, Robert," she continued earnestly. '"This weekend has very literally been a fantasy come true. Imagine someone telling you, before we left Chicago, that the Erotic Film Festival would turn out the way it did! You'd have told them they were nuts, right? And so would I have. But look what happened."
"I don't have to look," he interrupted mischievously. "I can feel. I'm still sore in about fifty places from last night, and it's going to be a week before my cock is ready for any really serious action again."
"Hmmmmm! We'll see about that," she purred licentiously, then turned serious again. "But look, lover-We came down here expecting nothing more than a free vacation and an article to do, expecting to meet a couple of kooks and maybe see a couple of halfway decent films. But, Jesus, would you ever have expected this? Would you have expected anything as wild as that plane flight over, for instance?" Robert's mind flashed back to their surreal menage in the washroom with his haughty blonde goddess of a stewardess, the mysterious Karin, who had found them both fucking in the washroom at thirty thousand feet, stepped boldly in and commanded them both to fuck her, too. He could hear her parting words in his mind as he remembered her naked Scandanavian beauty: "For once in your life, Robert, you'll never know whether it was fantasy ... or reality." And he remembered how dazed he and Mara had been afterwards, both wondering exactly how it had all happened. No, he could never forget that.
"Or, Robert," she continued, "would you ever have believed how my day off exploring the city went! How I got picked up by that guy in the restaurant, followed him to his penthouse and then fucked him? And how his wife walked in from shopping, gave us a drink, and the two of them had me in bed before I even realized it? Or how I came across that delightful little boy in the museum, and how delicious that whole incredible day was? You'd never have believed it if you read it in a book or saw it on screen," she said, her eyes bright with amazement. "Yet, it all really happened. And last night-God, would you ever have believed that hundreds of people could all, spontaneously, have the kind of impossible Roman orgy that we all had? That an entire crowd of people could turn into a raging, writhing sea of flesh? That you would be balling total strangers, women hanging all over you, fighting for your cock and begging you to fuck them, or that I would find myself gangbanged by a mob of delicious men? Never! Never!" she insisted, and he had to agree.
They were quiet for a few moments, the bustle of the noisy coffee shops contrasting with the still hush of their own thoughts. Mara sipped her coffee, and in the gesture thrust her breasts unconsciously against the fabric, pushing the nipples out against the cloth, out-lined for Robert to appreciate. They were taut and hard with arousal at her recollections of the fuckings they'd shared these last few days. Robert swallowed drily, reaching for his coffee as he felt himself responding to the reminiscences she had stirred, his body reacting to the memories she had brought to mind with her lustful words. As the hot black liquid warmed him, Robert surveyed her long red hair, now pinned fashionably up for travelling, her green eyes with their long auburn lashes downcast as the girl studied her cup, deep in her own thoughts. What exactly they were Robert could not say, but their nature was obvious from the flush of her cheeks and the heaving of her breasts as her breathing became subtly irregular, her twin globes rising and falling softly under the blouse.
"Do you like them, Robert?" she asked softly.
He looked up from them, saw her looking intensely at him. "Yes," he said, tension in his voice. What did she mean?
"Robert-lover man-boss," she purred, reaching out to take his hand over the table. "We've been together a long time, you know, and we've had some damned fine times. I love you, boss man, and I don't really care what happens from here on, long as we're together and there's a bed somewhere nearby. "Y'know," she continued, and her green eyes sparkled and began to mist. "A girl could get very attached to someone like you ... you're quite a man."
He returned her smile warmly, his eyes glowing as he squeezed her hands lovingly. God, he thought to himself, this is one hell of a girl-one hell of a woman. And God, what a body!
And then she was laughing at herself for her sentimentality, and became very chummy again. "By the way, did you know that Rene DuBauche made me an offer last night, as things were coming to a close?"
"No, I didn't," he replied. "What kind of an offer? One you couldn't refuse?"
"Well, not couldn't-but I admit it was tempting for a moment. She came back to me as I was staggering around, holding her portable camera-you know I think she was the only person there still fully dressed-and said that she'd been watching me, filming me, and that she liked my sexual style, that I had a-how did she put it?'visually erotic' way of fucking. Then she said that she'd just signed a contract with Mona Reymond-you know, Reymond Studios, you talked with her at her press conference-to do three films for her, and that she was looking for a new discovery. Said that I was it. Well," she continued, blushing slightly at the thought of herself as an international porn star, "it was pretty tempting but I said no. Still, she insisted I think it over and left me her card to call in case I change my mind. I can just imagine it-Mara Callahan, starring in Between Hot Sheets."
"Sounds intriguing," he said, studying her goddess' figure and trying to imagine himself watching her magnificent body onscreen. "You wouldn't be bad ... and, in fact, I think it would be kind of interesting. I'd love to see you do it."
The beautiful redheaded girl was silent a minute, her lovely sensuous face lost for a moment in thought, contemplating the possibility. "One other thing," she added, "Rene said one other thing, too-said that she always let her girls choose who their leading women-or men-would be. What would you say if I were to put out a casting call for co-star studs, boss man? Think you might know anyone who would be interested in that kind of ... er ... work?"
Robert smiled wickedly, his erection swelling as he returned the woman's wicked grin. Yes, he knew someone who would be interested.
