"For God's Sakes, Harry, get away from that window. Haven't you ogled that little bitch next door enough for one day?" Marsha Burns scolded at her husband from across the room where she had the Sunday paper laid out on the floor. "Her husband's going to catch you eyeing her and be over here with a baseball bat in a few minutes."
"Man," he replied, turning toward his wife and smiling. "I'd give a whole month's pay to get a little of that stuff. I haven't seen anything that young and tender since we had that trip to Europe three years ago. I could really go for that little doll."
He turned slowly from the den window where he had been looking out over his new neighbors' back yard, paused for a moment and then stole another quick glance at the young, lithe blonde in the tight shorts pushing the lawn mower next door. He sighed heavily and walked across the room to where his wife was lying in her robe on the thick, soft mohair rug.
"I like 'em with experience too, baby, don't get me wrong," he grinned, dropping to his knees to sit beside her on the floor. "I spent too many years training you the right way not to appreciate it, but you gotta admit a little strange stuff never hurt anyone."
"Well, I'm glad it doesn't." Marsha Burns looked up at him from the floor. "If it did, you'd have been dead and gone a long time ago."
"Baby, that's where I get the experience to keep a nympho like you happy. I couldn't have held on to you for three minutes if I weren't the best. Now could I? Besides, you get your share from the club."
Harry reached down the length of her long, well-shaped legs to the back of her knees and playfully brought his hand up under her robe, pushing the hem abruptly up the backs of her thighs before she could resist.
"Ohhh, you beast," she jumped forward trying to escape the playful fingers coursing their way up along the sensitive parts of her legs. "Stop, stop it, Harry, please, please," she giggled out of control, knocking the cup of coffee she had been drinking into the air and spilling it across the rug, "Look what you done now. Ohhhh, Ohhhh, God stop, Harry, please stop."
Harry grinned above her, placing one hand in the small of her back and pinning her to the floor, continued his rummaging up between his wife's flailing legs and laughing aloud at the same time at her helpless squeals for mercy.
"No pants this morning, eh," he chided loudly as her robe flew up, exposing the lush, white, rounded cheeks of her buttocks. "Don't tell me I don't have a nympho here. Didn't I give you enough last night. Didn't I, didn't I?"
"Ohhhh, yes, Harryeee! Yes, yes, anything you say, just stop it! Stop it, you're driving me crazy!" his wife bucked and twisted beneath the hand holding her tightly to the floor, laughing uncontrollably from the playful tickling he was subjecting her to.
"Anything I say, anything," he demanded playfully, continuing the twisting of her flesh between her legs.
"Yes! Ohhhh, yes, anything, anything!"
"Help me get in those short pants next door?"
"Yes, damn you, yes, just stop, stop!"
He laughed aloud again and released his hold on her squirming body, withdrawing his hand from up under her robe. "That's my baby, knew you wouldn't deny me anything."
"You bastard," his wife grinned up at him as she rolled over and smoothed the wrinkled material back into place. "I might have known you had something in mind when you started playing that little game of hanky panky with me."
"Nonsense, love, you know I would have done that anyway. Besides, after we discuss this little matter and decide how we're going to approach it I just might give you a little reward: You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Mmmmm," she smiled up at him, coquettishly. "I might just accept your offer if you think you're up to it."
"Baby, I'm always up to it." He said rising from the floor. "What about a pick-me-up to stir up the blood a little? After all, it's Sunday and that's as good an excuse as any."
"Since when did you need an excuse to swill that stuff down? If I don't kill you first then one of these days it will."
"I can handle it, Sweetie, you know that," he winked at her. "What'll you have?"
"If you're really serious about that offer," she smiled, "I'd better have a little vitamin with it. Make it a good strong screwdriver and easy on the orange juice."
Harry walked behind the well stocked bar and mixed the drinks quickly and skillfully while he hummed happily to himself. He knew now that as soon as he had Marsha's agreement on the seduction of their young, luscious new neighbor that it wouldn't be long before he was in. She had never failed him yet when she had put her heart in a thing and he knew that she had an interest also in the young punk of a husband the girl had. He and Marsha made a good pair, he mused as he poured two generous shots of vodka into each glass on the bar in front of him. They both liked the innocent, virginal type that took some real work and planning to get at. The triumph was so much greater when it became a real act of seduction and not just one of the swapping things that they had become so involved in. Of course, he enjoyed those too, but the recruiting of new members was the fun part. Taking two young innocents this way and leading them on into a social life that they thought was modern and liberal until all of a sudden, without warning, they were watching each other get screwed silly by someone they hardly knew.
Aside from the fact that his new neighbor was a cute little wench that he'd really like to give it to, he'd enjoy seeing the expression on the face of that punk kid the first time he saw his young wife getting a fuck thrown to her by someone else. This would be half the satisfaction and would be good to take him down a peg or two. Harry smiled in satisfactory anticipation. He had seen a thousand like that kid, fresh in the business world and knowing it all. All dressed alike in their permanent press button-down shirts and Ivy League suits, and all ready to conquer the world. His old man had probably put him through school, too, and maybe even landed him the job. He hadn't had to scrounge the best he could to get ahead like he himself had had to do, starting as a used car salesman during the depression when people could afford a car like they could fly to the moon. Well, he had learned a few things about living and life that he could teach that young punk and all his kind. They thought they knew it all with their constant demonstrations against this and that cause that they hadn't really enough experience to fully understand. Well, maybe he didn't understand those things either as much as he should but he did know about people and enough to understand that there was nothing they wouldn't do if subjected to the right circumstances. By God, he would make certain his new neighbors got their chance to be subjected to those circumstances.
"What's taking so long with those pick-me-ups?" His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the lazy drawling voice of Marsha floating across the room. "You must be stalling. Aren't planning to renege on your promise, I hope. I might change my mind about helping with the little hussy next door."
"Not on your life, baby. You're going to get a working over like you haven't had since last night. I'm gonna practice up a little for the little bitch next door."
"Well, I don't know about that. I'd kinda like to be taken for me, and not some young chick you don't even know will put out."
"Oh, she'll put out all right," Harry grinned, nodding his head positively. "With the plan I've got worked out, we'll have 'em both in the rack within a week."
"You don't even know if you can talk to them, my dear boy. Didn't he kind of cut you off yesterday when you invited them over for a drink?"
"Yeah, he did," Harry winced in remembrance, handing the orange-colored drink down to Marsha and taking a seat beside her. "Gave me the impression he felt he was just a little too smart to mix with the likes of a used car salesman. He's been to college and all that. Even works in a bank as an investment executive, but it still don't cut no mustard with me."
"My dear, you're a very modest used car salesman. After all, you do own five agencies here in the County. That should make you just about the richest used car salesman in the country."
"Just a figure of speech," Harry smiled turning his glass up and draining a large swallow from it. "It doesn't seem to matter how far you go in this business, though, everyone still thinks you're just a salesman and there doesn't seem to be anyone any lower on the social ladder than one who sells cars no matter how rich they might be."
"I think it's just that put-on home-spun attitude of yours. You know, `I'm just a country boy type.' But you can't kid me, Harry. I've lived with you long enough to know that you push that image to the hilt."
"Never had a complaint in the business," Harry said. "Nobody likes to admit they've been had by a yokel even if you've taken the shirt off their back. They even brag to their friends about the good deals they get and then they come down to get their shirts taken off too. It's all one big merry-go-round. But we can't complain, can we? We're doin' pretty well."
"Mmmmm, Why do you think I left the chorus line in Vegas, my dear? Certainly not your good looks."
"Is it all money, baby? Is that why you've stuck around for eight years?" Harry grinned his broad grin again and placed his hand on the back of her thigh, massaging the soft, sensitive flesh gently.
"Harry," she crooned softly, "Be careful, we've got business to plan out remember." She looked up at him coyly as he continued the teasing ministrations.
Marsha gritted her teeth slightly as she felt the old feeling drifting slowly through the tips of her nerves. She was lucky to have Harry for a husband and she knew it well. He was one of the wealthiest and most successful car dealers in the country and took very good care of her in spite of the flamboyant crudeness and periodic streaks of cruelty in his sometimes overzealous sexual demands. Not that she minded the latter, she mused, she was almost as bad as he was and perhaps that was what held them together. He didn't mind at all what she did as long as she didn't hide it from him and was there when he needed her. But, by the same token, he did whatever he liked also in the way of outside sexual activity but would never hide it from her. In fact, it had made their marriage more exciting than anything else and had brought them closer together. Then, there was the swap club too.
Yes, both by common consent had had their own little affairs but had never let them get beyond the physical stage. It was kind of like having your cake and eating it too and had added so much interest to their lives together that she could never want it any other way. She liked the arrangement they had with either being able to do as they pleased because she had seen so many of her friends lapse into a bored and almost unbearable existence without any variety in their lives at all. It wasn't pleasant watching people you had known as young, gay individuals suddenly wilting away into sad mechanical-like suburban night dwellers whose every action fitted into a slot or pattern that varied not one iota from one year to the next. She was grateful to Harry for salvaging her from this fate and really, in the beginning anyway, almost forcing her to accept the fact that life could be lived in a different manner than that accepted without question by the majority of society. She had to admit, it had taken some doing on his part to get her to participate that first time in the swapping thing that was so popular now but after the first time she hadn't complained about going to the meetings again. In fact, she rather looked forward to these little twice-monthly affairs now and planned her whole schedule around them. She absolutely made certain she had an easy day before the meetings so that she wouldn't be too tired to give her best. She even made Harry come home early from the office to rest up and take a nap so he, too, would be prepared for the long exacting evening.
"Oooohhh," she moaned suddenly as her mind returned to reality. Harry's hand had reached her buttocks again and he had run the tips of his fingers feather-like down the full length of the soft-white crevice sending chills of sensation rippling across her skin. "Are you crazy, man? You want to be eaten alive?"
"Eaten, yes baby, but not alive," he joked, twitching his fingers again into the slightly squirming crevice. "But don't get impatient, we'll come to that."
"Well, you just stop it and get me another drink. We've got some planning to do. You've gotten me all excited over our new victims and I want to hear your bright little plan to bridge this social gap you think exists."
"Just don't you worry, my little pet, I've got it all figured. Been thinking about it since that punk gave me the old brush-off yesterday. I think we might even be able to work it so they'll be our little donation to the club. You know we're due to cough up another couple next month and we haven't even started on it yet."
"That's right," Marsha frowned. "It is our turn. Has it been three months since we brought in Sue and Charley?"
"It sure has and you know the rules, bring in a couple every three months or you're out for good. We haven't been working on it. Here, give me your glass and let me fill it while I lay out the plan for you."
"Harry Burns," Marsha chided, "I think you're out of your mind. Even if you do con her into bed with you, which I doubt, unless you rape her, I don't think you'd ever get a couple like that to go along with a group swap. They're just too young and naive. Why, I bet they haven't even been married a year."
"Right you are, baby," Harry said as he rose to mix more drinks. "But that's the kind that when they fall, they fall hard. It'll be fun trying anyway even if we don't succeed and we will. Have you ever seen old Harry fail yet, baby?"
"No, I guess not," Marsha had to admit. He just seemed to have a way with him that brought him anything he wanted. Women were always repulsed by him at first just as she had been in the beginning, but sooner or later, he worked a way to get to them. And God help them once he did, she mused.
"Make mine a double this time, lover, I think I'm going to need it to keep from crying over the fate you've got planned for this poor little girl next door."
"Poor little girl, my tail." Harry responded sarcastically from behind the bar. "Have you seen that set of boobs she carries around in front of her? Man I can't wait to get my teeth into those."
"Well, don't get overly excited and bite them off." Marsha retorted, a bored tone in her voice. "That's known as the crime of mayhem."
"Mayhem, scayhem," laughed Harry. "It just might be worth ninety days in the hoosegow to get a nibble at those. I'd be willing to risk it anyway."
"Oh, shut up and bring my drink. I hate to see you get worked up this way over some other little slut and then take it out on me all afternoon. Come on and tell me this plan of yours so I can get worked up, too. You know, I just might enjoy teaching that poor innocent young boy a thing or two. I feel most motherly every time I see him."
"You're not that old, chicken," he laughed, walking to the window again with the full glasses in his hands. "Man-o-man, look at that tight little ass almost hanging out of those shorts. There oughta be a law against that."
"Harry! Get away from that window," Marsha scolded again. "You've got all you can handle at home right now. As soon as you deliver him to me then you can have all of that you can get, but not until then. I'm a very jealous wife, remember."
"OK, OK, if you want to be a kill-joy and take away the few pleasures a man my age has left in this life, then be a bitch. I'll just have to settle for you this afternoon."
"Harry," Marsha smiled at him demurely. "Let's take these drinks to the bedroom, shall we?"
"Why, you little whore!" Harry smiled, following behind her down the hallway. "You're about the most selfish thing alive. You always come first. You drug me away from that window for your own selfish designs, I might have known."
"I don't see you lagging far behind, my love." Marsha cooed, turning just inside the door and peeling her robe from her body seductively and dropping it to her feet. "Of course, if you'd rather not. .."
"Let's not be too hasty now," Harry replied quickly, his face flushing slightly as his eyes locked on his wife's full well-tanned body. "I think we can work something out between us without too much fuss and bother."
Marsha smiled at him coyly and did a small pirouette in the center of the room before she walked softly to the huge double king sized bed and lay down full in the center of it, spreading her limbs in a wide crucifixion position. She smiled lazily up at him without a word, just a seductive smile playing across her lips. Harry's breath sucked in slightly from the sudden excitement of the pose she had taken.
Damn, he thought, There's just no one else like her. His eyes, for the millionth time in their eight years of marriage, played over full well-rounded curves and sent tiny ripples of desire running swiftly over the sensitive nerve-ends of his skin. His eyes roamed over the naked contours stretched out in anticipation before him. They stopped for a moment on the high-set round breasts that were set closely together, leaving room for the narrowest of valleys running between their magnificent firmness. He never failed to marvel at how they kept their shape at all times, in spite of their size. This possibly was the reason for her lead position in the chorus line at Vegas where he had first seen her and decided that he had to have her. Well, he had, and it had lasted a long time. He had shed his second wife with a quickie Nevada divorce and they were married a few months later. Nothing had changed since then and he still marveled at her each and every time he saw her in the nude. She was holding up pretty well for a thirty-one-year-old and if he weren't such a lecherous bastard, he mused silently to himself, he would never have had to step out of the house. She was enough for any one man. His eyes flicked lower to the enticingly rounded, ivory-sheened lips that led to the delicious sweep of long, gradually rounded thighs. Between her slightly spread legs he could see clearly through the soft pubic hair covering her loins the fleshy pinkness of her vaginal slit glistening wetly in the dim light seeping through the curtains.
"Well, lover, are you going to stand there all day? Hand me my drink and get naked, Marsha teased at him, fully aware of the effect the licentious position of her body was having on him. She squirmed her buttocks down into the mattress, enjoying the power she was exerting over him by the lewd exhibition of her body and watching with secret satisfaction the changing expressions flickering across his lips.
"You little prick-tease," Harry half growled, "You've gotten yourself a pile of trouble now and you just might not get out of it until tomorrow morning, if then."
He handed her the double gin and set his own on the table by the bed, pulling at the same time at his clothes. It took only a moment for them to fall quickly to the floor where he left them lying in a disorganized heap. He stood for a moment at the edge of the bed looking down at her naked form, spread waiting on the bed. His long, thick penis stood out rigid beneath the slight paunch he was developing. Marsha had risen to one elbow to take a long sip from the tall drink and was looking directly at his hardness.
"Mmmmm," she said softly for effect, as she brought the glass down from her lips. "That didn't take long."
"No Ma'am. Old Daddy is ready, right now. Open 'em wide, honey, I'm coming in fast." He grinned down at her taking the glass from her hand.
"Hey, wait a minute!" Marsha mockingly screamed as she rolled out of the way of his leap onto the bed. "You were going to fire me up a little bit by telling me what you were going to do to that little blonde thing next door!"
"Oh, baby, come on," Harry good-naturedly pleaded. He knew it was a game and they played it often. He was ready now but knew she liked to be coaxed a little before the action began.
"Nope, no story, no nookie." She said, squirming seductively just out of arm's reach across the bed.
"OK, OK, if that's the way you want it. I'll tell you how you're going to get your share too. Is that a deal?"
"Is it a deal!" She smiled, moving over close to him and stretching the full length of her body tightly against him. "That's the best part of the deal."
"Well, it just might take you awhile to recover from what you're going to get in a second so I'll wait a few days to put it into effect."
"Don't you worry about me," His wife nuzzled against his ear. "You can bring him on this afternoon after I've taken you on if you like. You never could stay long enough to make me beg for mercy."
"We'll see about that later." he grinned over at her, taking her hand and pushing it down around the thickness of his upstanding penis. She began to stroke and then to massage it, rubbing the skin back and forth and then slipping her hand to his balls, cradling their softness in her palm. Harry groaned and gritted his teeth at her gentle ministrations of his testicles and penis.
"Do you want to hear that story or not?" he sputtered as she gave a gentle squeeze that sent shivers down his spine.
"Mmmmm," she answered softly, "just amusing myself in the meantime."
"Well," Harry ground his teeth again and began. "I figure the way to get her is through him. If we can get him in a position where he has to go along with it then we've got it made."
"And just how do you propose to do that?" his wife asked softly, continuing the gentle stroking of the loose foreskin up and down the full length of his rod.
"That's going to be your job. I did manage to get out of him that his wife is going to her mother's for a few days starting tomorrow and I thought we might get him out for dinner and a few drinks and let you go to work on him. I can work out an excuse to get lost so he won't suspect anything and you can take it from there. Show him the "Playpen" downstairs, that always works."
"Mmmm, I like. Gives me a chance to show my talents-and satisfy my maternal instincts all at the same time," she crooned gently. "Darling, for this you get a reward while you tell me how you think you can get him out with us if he's got the superiority bit about him."
His wife moved down the bed, trailing the soft moistness of her lips down across the soft flabbiness of his stomach. Her fingernails scratched lightly over his cock that reached yearningly up toward the ceiling. Suddenly, she was hovering on all fours with her face poised just above it until he could feel the hot air from her breath blowing close against it.
"Go on with the story, Darling," she cooed softly, "I'm waiting."
"And," Harry swallowed deeply as his wife haunched on all fours over his loins, stroked his hardness first with one hand and then between both of them at the same time, "You'll get him in the sack with you ooooh."
He groaned and thrust his loins forward involuntarily as the warm moistness of her open lips closed over the throbbing, sensitive head of his cock.
"And, ooh, he'll be throwing it to you, oooh," he moaned again, reaching down and tangling his hands tightly in her hair to guide the rhythm of her bobbing head below. He lifted his head slightly from the pillow to watch her contorted face. It made the sensation that much more exciting when he could see the thickness of his rod buried between her sucking lips.
"Go-wa on-a," she mumbled around his plunging instrument, struggling to get the words out and at the same time increase the twirling of her tongue around the moist stickiness of the blood-inflated head.
"Fuck it, you can wait to hear the goddamn story," Harry growled as she began to suck a little harder. "You just suck it baby, and Daddy'll tell you all about it later."
He looked at the mirror on the wall facing the bed so he could get a good profile look at his wife's face as his hardening shaft began to saw rhythmically in and out of her ovaled mouth. The very sight of it caused his loins to tense and jerk into her face until in the mirror it looked as though he were sinking the full length of it all the way down her throat. Almost all of it seemed to disappear with each hard thrust he made until only a little stretch of it showed white and glistening protruding from between her lips.
Her tongue, with a nerve-tingling lick on the outstroke was making the head throb and jerk as though his heart itself were beating inside. He watched, hypnotized in the mirror, watching the flesh of her lips being pulled out grotesquely, clinging to the flesh of his prick as she sucked hungrily, her mind caught up in the task with all her concentration. Her breasts jerked and danced below her pumping torso, adding to the lust-inciting picture presented to him in the glass.
"Suck it, baby, suck it," he hissed, dropping his head back heavily on the pillow and pretending for the moment it were the blonde in the tight shorts next door. Goddamn, he'd like to have her like this, ramming it deep in her throat. By God, he'd shove it all the way down to her tonsils when he did get her. He'd pump his hot sperm all the way down- her throat and into that white little belly of hers until she burst.
"Come on, baby, come on," he grunted as his wife slaved below, her body beginning to glisten from the tiny droplets of sweat forming over her skin. He felt like pissing as he felt the pressure growing in his balls. He knew it wouldn't be long now. His cock felt like it was filled with lead and ready to explode like the popping of a giant balloon that when it went would spew its insides for miles in all directions. He shoved his loins hard up against her face, hearing her protesting mumble that went unheeded in his quest for the final end of this torture that was building - building - building until all at once he felt the white hot stream begin deep in his balls and race steam-like the length of his plunging cock. He gasped and his lips bared back over his teeth as though being tortured by fire.
His cock began a sudden wild staccato jerking that flooded without warning his wife's wildly sucking mouth with gust after gust of the white-hot sperm, bloating her cheeks outward with each bullet-like spurt until she swallowed to keep from choking, mewling and crooning at his thrusting loins.
"Don't stop, baby, keep sucking, keep sucking!" he gasped as his hands tangled tighter in her hair, convulsively ramming his cork farther and farther down her throat. She went on sucking wildly as he continued shooting his load deep, deep into her mouth.
With one last earth-shattering groan, he emptied the last of his sperm into her lips but she went on nibbling gently, sucking every last drop from the spurting gland.
Gradually, the satiated penis deflated in her mouth. Harry threw his arms out to the side in exhaustion, a great sigh of relief escaping from his lips. She lay for awhile with her head on his thigh, still nibbling gently at the limp, useless penis in front of her and then she crawled up over his belly and kissed him hard on the lips.
"What happened to my story, lover?" she teased softly, smiling down at him with a slight sparkle of triumph in her eyes.
"Why you little bitch! You had that planned all along, didn't you?" Harry half growled, half groaned. "Imagine picking on a guy ten years older than you."
"You'll have your chance to get even, dear, I'll see to that in a few minutes. Now tell me the happy ending about how you'll talk Mr. Big next door into coming out for dinner."
"Simple, love, I'll do a little shifting of my funds. We have so much money invested in stocks his boss old man Jordan'll do anything I say to get it. He can't very well turn down a dinner invitation with a client, can he?"
"My you are clever," his wife teased as she reached her hand down and felt him hardening again. "And, an insatiable old bastard too," she grinned, feeling the moisture rising between her thighs. She knew it was going to be a long, delicious night and she smiled silently to herself in anticipation.
Carol Benson hummed softly to herself as she sat before the dressing table combing out her long silken blonde hair. A tiny pout lined her lips as she struggled momentarily against a particularly stubborn snag that impeded the smooth course of the brush running downward toward her shoulders.
"Ninety eight, ninety nine, and one hundred, there finished." she breathed in relief. She hated this morning ritual, but had been doing it since she was a little girl. It was one of those things her mother had insisted on as being healthy for the hair and she had to admit it had certainly helped her to retain that soft golden look, although, she sometimes wondered if it wouldn't have remained that way anyway. She took a long last critical look at it and then apparently satisfied, began to deftly apply her make up. It took but a moment as she didn't use much; just a touch of natural colored lipstick, that added a slight flesh color to her already full sensuous lips, and a quick line of eye make-up, that did nothing more than accentuate slightly their light hazel beauty.
Cocking her head to one side, she surveyed the results of her work. She liked it and in spite of her inbred modesty, had to admit to herself that she was a very pretty little girl. She must be, she smiled, she had landed Bob for a husband and that had been a coup d'etat of the first order. She must have had at least ten serious rivals at the office who had been trying with every wile they possessed to land him. But she had won after a short struggle and that was the important thing. Not every girl got the most promising young executive in a banking company this size for a husband.
He was going to be a success and a big one, there was no doubt in anyone's mind about that and in the three years since they had been married he had started very well. He was working for one of the best banks in California and now after just five years with them he had been given this chance in the main office to handle their investment accounts all on his own. Mr. Jordan, the president of the company, had even taken them out to dinner several weeks ago when Bob's promotion had been announced. He had told her confidentially while they had been dancing together that he expected big do all in her power to help him. It had really made it right to the top before too many years had passed. He also had complimented her on her graciousness and added that a good wife was also one of the keys to success in this business and he thought Bob had done well in that respect too. This had made her feel wonderful and she had promised herself that she would do all in her power to help him and had really made her feel like a partner in his success. This was supposedly the key element in a good marriage and made her feel needed in the strictest sense. Of course, she always gave Bob full credit for his successes and stayed pretty much in the background except to always look pretty and act hospitable at the many social functions they had to attend and to keep her husband as happy as possible at home. This she thought she was doing, though sometimes it was hard to tell. He was so wrapped up in learning his new job, and with all the things she had to do to move into this new house, they both just collapsed in the evenings after dinner. It hadn't given them much time together, not even for lovemaking, and this worried her. Not because she liked it so much, but because he didn't seem to need her as much or as often as he did a few weeks ago.
Bob had taken good care of arranging the transfer to the new house though. Mr. Jordan had absolutely insisted that they move to a more fashionable neighborhood as Bob would have important clients to entertain at home. She still remembered the excitement she had felt when Mr. Jordan had said at the dinner table, "Bob, my boy, you realize with this new position you're going to have to start living in the manner commensurate with the position of a banking executive."
Bob had answered something about his salary still not being enough to live on an even par with the wealthy customers whose accounts he would be handling and Mr. Jordan had assured him, "Don't you worry about that, my boy. The bank has decided to take care of a down payment for you and give you a housing and entertainment allowance that'll take care of that little problem."
Carol hadn't been able to believe it when Bob had proudly brought her to the new house the first time about a week ago. The bank had handled the transfer of title and even the furnishing. She had been just a little disappointed in the furnishing of it at first, but rationalized that they could do what they liked later on when they really got on their feet. If Bob's present success continued that wouldn't be too long. Anyway, they had done a more than acceptable job through a decorating firm that handled all their new buildings and she couldn't really complain except for the fact that she had no say in it. This, she realized, was just vanity on her part and not really important. She could do without it for awhile.
She was suddenly jerked from her reverie by the ringing of the doorbell. My God, she thought to herself as she tightened her robe around the softness of her body, that's the most awful rasping sound I've ever heard. That's one thing I'll have to change right away.
She walked down the long hallway from the bedroom and opened the front door. A smallish attractive woman she had never seen before was standing on the front steps.
"Hello there, I'm your new neighbor, Jean Talbot, from across the street and just wanted to drop by and welcome you to the neighborhood."
"Oh, how nice," Carol said, smiling sweetly in surprise. "Won't you come in and have some coffee?"
"Oh my dear, I don't want to disturb you, it looks as though you're just, getting dressed. I can come back later when you've finished."
"No, don't be silly. Do come in."
She blushed slightly when she looked down at her robe and realized that the woman must think she was certainly an irresponsible housewife still lounging around without her clothes on at ten o'clock in the morning. "Please come in and have some coffee with me. I've just finished cleaning the house," she added in self-justification, "and can slip something on real quick."
"Well, just for a little while then," the woman replied. "I don't want to upset your schedule. I know you must be pretty busy with all the problems of moving in and all."
"Oh, it's not too bad," Carol said, ushering her into the low modern living room. "My husband took care of most of the problems before we even changed houses. Please sit down and let me get the coffee. It'll just take a minute. It's all ready."
She went to the kitchen and hurriedly got out their new serving set from the cabinet, preparing a tray with two cups from the new Rosenthal china that the bank had been so kind as to include in furnishing the house. It seemed they had forgotten nothing and Carol felt almost as though she were taking over someone else's house complete. She thought for a moment of running into the bedroom and changing now but decided she had better get some coffee to her guest first. She was certain they were more conscious of their social etiquette here than they were in the lower middle-class neighborhood they had just moved from. She hoped she could cope with the sudden change and had to admit to herself that she was more worried about it than she would allow herself to believe.
"Here we are, Jean," she smiled graciously as she entered the living room and placed the tray on the table. "Would it be terribly impolite of me to excuse myself and get into my shorts quickly? I hate to play hostess with just a house-coat on."
"Oh, not at all. I can take care of myself. Besides, I'm enjoying this beautiful living room of yours. I must say, you've decorated it in the best of taste."
"Why thank you," Carol said, pinking slightly at the compliment. She didn't dare admit she had had it done for her. It would be just too degrading. A woman was supposed to take care of that part of a marriage and to admit to another woman that she hadn't was just unthinkable. "I'll be right back. There's everything here, cream, sugar, and the coffee."
She hurried to her bedroom and quickly changed into the work clothes she had worn yesterday when she and Bob had started on the yard work. She knew the shorts were just a bit too tight and reached too far up her thighs but they were her old favorites and this was one concession she refused to make to the change in neighborhoods, they were just too comfortable and too much of a habit to give up. Bob had even tried yesterday to make her throw them away when she had brought them out to wear but she had absolutely refused.
"You take me and you take these with me, Bob Benson," she had scolded and he had begrudgingly backed down. Sometimes lately, she had begun to think that perhaps he was too much of a prude. Good Lord, with the new enlightenment society was going through today they had much more to titillate their thoughts than her little pet pair of sorts. She knew he wound never understand this but somehow it had become a matter of principle with her-some kind of vague retention of her individuality that had crept through and refused to be destroyed along with the other girlish parts of herself that she knew she must sacrifice with this move into the upper classes. Well, she vowed, she would never give these up. She gave one quick swipe to her hair with the brush and headed back for the living room.
"There, I told you, just took a second."
"Well, yes, I can see why," her guest answered with a good-natured twinkle in her eye. "I didn't mean anything derogatory by that, Carol, I assure you. But you must admit the outfit is a bit skimpy."
"Yes," she smiled back after a moment when she realized Jean was kidding, "But I like them and they're the most comfortable thing I own."
"Well just don't let the lecher next door see you in them. He'll he over before you can count to three."
"Y-you mean, Mr. Burns?" Carol raised her eyes in innocent surprise as she poured herself some coffee.
"Yes, I do dear. He's better known as "Stud Burns" by the housewives in this neighborhood." She said with a slight trace of contempt in her voice.
"Why you must be joking, Jean!" Carol laughed. "He's old enough to be my father."
"He might be old enough to be your father, my dear," Jean smiled knowingly, "but I wouldn't even trust him with his own daughter."
"I've never heard anything like it. I've only seen him once out the window since we've been here and he looks absolutely repulsive."
"Oh, that he is," her guest admitted. "But he certainly gives it that old college try."
"D-Does he ever succeed?" Carol asked, a tone of amusement in her voice. .
"I think probably more often than not. You'll see him sneaking around the neighborhood just after lunch and disappearing into one house or another before you've spent too many weeks here. You can always tell whether he succeeds by how long he stays."
"It seems you've made a habit of plotting out his little affairs," Carol said, a slight note of coolness in her voice. She didn't want to get involved with gossip on the block and thought the best thing she could do would be to cut off this conversation now before it got around to all the personalities of the neighborhood.
"Oh no, Carol, don't get me wrong," Jean said, sensing her thoughts. "I'm not the street gossip, but the conversation did seem to get around to your next door neighbors and I thought I had better warn you. He'll be around to see you too, I can guarantee that."
Carol though she detected a note of bitterness in her new neighbor's voice and wondered if perhaps this wasn't one of the instances where "Stud Burns" had succeeded. Something was certainly unusual about the way she talked about him and the vindictive things she was saying. She was a pretty woman and couldn't be over thirty-five or six. She had taken good care of herself and Carol couldn't understand how he would pass her up if he were as lecherous as Jean was saying he was. She thought she would probe diplomatically just for the fun of it and see what she could find out about her personally.
"H-Has he ever tried anything with you?" Carol asked, lowering her eyes to the cup she was fingering thoughtfully in her hands.
Jean smiled over at her.
"I knew that question would come in one form or another if we started on the subject." she said, pausing for a moment. "Of course, he has. Even if he hadn't, I don't think I would admit it for vanity's sake. A woman does have her pride, you know."
When Carol heard the sincerity in the woman's voice she was immediately sorry she had even asked the question. It wasn't her business to pry into someone else's affairs, particularly someone she hardly knew.
"Jean, I'm sorry. I should know better. I guess I'm just becoming cynical in my old age."
"My dear," smiled her neighbor, looking directly into her eyes, "I don't mean to sound condescending. But at your age I was perhaps the most naive thing around. It'll take you awhile to really understand what being cynical really is."
Carol detected a note of sadness in Jean's voice and decided she had carried this topic of conversation just a little too far. Her visitor had obviously had a bad traumatic experience of some kind with Harry Burns and she wasn't certain whether she really wanted to talk all-out it or not. She decided she had better change the subject for safety's sake before she got herself involved in some morbid story that might take up the rest of the day. She had discovered early in life that the first people who always came to see you and made friends with you were those who had something to say -usually about themselves. But in spite of this initial judgment of Jean, Carol liked her. There was something innately sad about her that she couldn't exactly put her finger on and it was quite apparent that she wasn't exactly the happiest person in the world.
"Please have some more coffee, won't you?" Carol offered, hoping she would take a hint and talk about something else. But Jean seemed determined to keep on the subject of personalities and continued talking.
"I've seen your husband out the window. He seems nice." she said, reaching over and pouring her own cup full again.
"Yes, he is." Carol's eyes sparkled as the subject changed to Bob. She was proud of him and didn't mind letting people know about it. "I think so, anyway."
"You're lucky." Jean replied drily. "My husband is a brute of the first order."
Carol was shocked for a moment at the sudden unsolicited disclosure. She had just been ready to tell Jean about Bob's new job of which he was so proud but Jean's revelation had cut her short.
"Why, you don't mean that, Jean." she stuttered, not knowing quite how to react to her. She decided to lie a little, "You look so happy and settled. I don't see how you can say that."
It was then for the first time that Carol noticed the slight, almost indiscernible slur of the woman's words. She had been drinking! A sudden feeling of compassion rippled through her. The poor dear! She must be having a hard time if she had to resort to alcohol at this time of the morning. She looked and spoke so logically when she had come in the house twenty minutes ago. While Carol pondered this for a moment, Jean answered the question for her. She reached in her purse by the chair and pulled out a small flask.
"Would you like a small bit of brandy to lace your coffee, Carol? I find it helps on these cold days." Jean smiled almost apologetically, as though she realized the pity running through Carol's mind. "It's good with coffee."
"W-Why no thank you. I-I don't drink much," she answered, watching as her guest poured almost half the cup full of the dark liquid. "B-But please go ahead."
"I think it shocks you that I'm drinking so early in the morning doesn't it?" Jean looked at her, waiting for her confirming answer.
"W-Well no, no it doesn't. If a person wants to drink in the morning then it's their business and no one else's." Carol defended. She had no intention of getting into an argument with one of her neighbors in the first few days they were here. Particularly over something she knew absolutely nothing about.
"Well, I don't very often do this," Jean's words became slightly more slurred as she took a good sip from the cup. "But I saw that Stud Burns watching you out of his window yesterday when you were working in the yard and thought I had better warn you. He's going to be after your pants, mark my words."
"Jean!" Carol answered, a shocked look crossing over her face. "I don't think you should talk like that. What he does is his own business but I'm certainly no child, I can take care of myself."
"You may think so, dear. But mark my words," she repeated again, "he'll think of something. I know that lecherous son-of-a-bitch. He'll screw you silly someday when you have your guard down and then have it all over the town with his big mouth bragging about what a good shag you are. I know him."
"I-Is that what happened with you, Jean?" Carol asked softly. It was obvious to her that Jean had been hurt deeply and it had something to do with Harry Burns. Otherwise, she wouldn't be talking against him this way to a perfect stranger. She could feel nothing but compassion for Jean now and wanted to help her in any way she could even if it were nothing more than sympathize with her.
"Is it that obvious?" Her guest said grimly.
"No, no it isn't," Carol consoled. But you kept talking about him so much I couldn't help but wonder."
"Well, that is what happened to me," Jean said bitterly, taking another long sip from the cup. "May I have some more coffee, please?"
"Do you really think you should? I mean it's all right, but don't you think you should wait a little while?" Carol suggested hopefully.
"No, dear, don't you worry about me. I can take care of myself. I need it if I'm going to make it through this fool day. Anyway," she suddenly brightened up, "let's get off such an unhappy subject and talk about something else, shall we? Tell me something about yourself. We're going to be neighbors for a long time, I hope, so let's get the silly little formalities out of the way."
Carol was more than glad for the chance to get on to something else as it was too apparent that her neighbor was on an extremely touchy subject and she didn't want any emotional outbursts in her home from her very first visitor. She had enough things to worry about as it was in getting themselves established here without becoming the shoulder that all could cry on whenever they happened to have a problem of some kind. From that point on it was all small talk on the subjects that women usually discuss under such circumstances. She told Jean about Bob's new job and how happy they were that he had been given the chance to prove himself so quickly with the bank. Not that she hadn't expected it with the educational background Bob had built up, but she had to admit the good things of life were coming to them a little faster than she had really expected. In fact, she was afraid at one point that she was letting her exuberance about her husband run away with her and just knew she was boring Jean to death, but she seemed to he interested and even asked more questions when Carol would stop on one particular subject. Finally, she even let her talk her into one drink with her coffee and had to admit the cognac did taste good going down. It seemed to make Jean feel a little more at home also and she began to let her hair down in a more pleasant sense and before Carol knew it she had looked at her watch and it was almost time for Bob to be coming home for lunch.
"Oh dear," she muttered in sudden apology, "Bob's due home in ten minutes and I haven't even started lunch yet! You'll just have to excuse me, Jean, I don't know where the time has gone."
"You're lucky to have someone who cares enough to come home for lunch. I hope it lasts many more happy years," she suddenly reverted back to the sadness that had occurred earlier. "I'll drink up and be on my way."
"Oh Jean," Carol smiled at her warmly, "I'm just so sorry. I was enjoying our conversation so much I just lost complete track of the morning. We'll have to do this again soon."
"Yes, dear, we will." Jean smiled in understanding as she rose to leave. The alcohol was having an appreciable effect on her walking and Carol found herself reaching out automatically to steady her as she held the door for her to pass. She wanted to offer to walk her home but knew that Jean would take offense.
"Thank you so much for coming over," she said instead. "I'm glad we've had the chance to get to know each other."
"I am too, Carol," Jean said turning slowly back toward her. "And remember what I told you earlier about that bastard next door. I still mean it."
Carol didn't reply and watched a shadowed wrinkle cross over Jean's brow as though she were almost going to cry. Then, turning slowly back toward the steps, she made her way dejectedly to the street. Carol closed the door softly behind her, a sudden sense of strange foreboding crossing over her mind. What on earth had that man next door done to her to make her so bitter and angry with the world? Well, she shrugged her shoulders quizzically, whatever it was there was nothing she could do about it and the last thing in the world she wanted to become involved in right off the bat was a neighborhood feud. That was the surest way she could think of to make one's self unwelcome fast and it certainly wouldn't ingratiate her with her husband. He needed all the social help he could get with his new job and she intended to do all in her power to see that he got it.
Bob finished tying his tie and poured himself another martini from the pitcher he had prepared earlier. He had measured it out carefully to make certain that there were only two, remembering faithfully old Jordan's words about two being the absolute limit for a banker before dinner.
"Dims the mind, son," he had warned, "and a banker needs his brain working all the time. Never know when a deal is going to come up at one of these parties and you've got to be prepared to assess it on a moment's notice. At least the basics of it. Clients don't keep their faith in bankers that can't give 'em a snap judgment on something they should know about. Remember that, Bob, and you'll be taking over for me one of these days."
He knew he would have to have a couple more with the Burns before they started eating but tonight was kind of a special occasion and it might calm his nerves a bit. It wasn't every day that an important man like Burns walked into the President's office and told him outright that he had been impressed with his new neighbor and wanted to shift all of his investment account to their bank to be handled personally by him. He had left a message with Mr. Jordan that he and his wife were invited to dinner tonight to have a preliminary discussion about the mechanics of the change and also to get to know the man who would be handling all his money a little better. It was going to be an important night for his future and Bob knew it. He also had to make up for that abrupt meeting with Burns yesterday. He had no idea that he had that much money and could be so important in the community. He seemed to be a crude loudmouth type that Bob could not stand.
Well, he had put up with all types and kept them happy for the last five years with the bank so this one should be no problem. He hadn't really given him a chance yesterday anyway so he might not be too bad. At any rate, he thought dryly, he had no choice. He would just have to put up with whatever came his way. That was part of being a success in business and he couldn't afford not to succeed now. Particularly with the debts they had run up in buying this place. He would be in hock to his own bank for the rest of his life. They had sounded as though they were giving it to them when Jordan had first spoken about it but he should have known that banks never give anything away.
He was sorry that Carol had made plans earlier to go to her mother's for several days. She would have been quite an asset in dealing with both of them. Now he would have to carry the conversation with two of them which put him at a definite disadvantage. He had tried to talk her out of going but she gave him one excuse or another each time he brought the subject up. This was not like her and she had even seemed upset when he had come home with the good news about the new account. In fact, he couldn't remember seeing her this concerned about anything in a long time. True, they had both agreed they wouldn't get involved with any of their neighbors socially until they had a chance to make a judgment on whether or not they would like them for long-term friends but this was different. He had tried to explain that it was just part of his job and that once the account was in his hands they wouldn't be obligated to the Burns but she had sensed that wasn't true. Burns could still change his account back to his old bank anytime he wanted to and if he did that old man Jordan might lose the faith he had built up in his young prot�g�. He knew only too well that with this loss of faith would go all the things he had built up up during the last five years. He had explained it to her thoroughly on the way to the airport just a short while ago.
In fact, they had had quite an argument. He had said a few things that he was sorry about now such as his comment on her shorts again and about how she didn't seem at all interested in helping him succeed. First, wearing those things around the yard would make the neighbors think she was a low-class slut of some kind and now she wouldn't even delay her trip for one day so that he could impress the Burns. She bad for some unknown reason burst into tears when he had chastised her so much and he had been forced to change his tone a bit to soothe her before they reached the terminal building. She left a bit happier after he had done this but it still didn't justify anything in his own mind. She was letting him down and that was that. She may have had many reasons such as the strain of moving or whatever, but still, he was going through the same thing and he was willing to push himself beyond the way he felt.
Why wouldn't she? He just didn't understand. Well, when she got back they could talk about it and patch things up.
Bob took the last gulp from his almost empty martini glass and headed for the Burns'. In spite of his little spat with Carol this afternoon he still felt on top of the world. He was going to get that account and prove himself to Jordan if it was the last thing he did. That should show Carol he could do it even without her help. Damn women, anyway!
Carol laid her head back against the seat and listened to the swift rush of air outside against the smooth metallic skin of the jet that was sweeping her home toward Chicago. It had been almost two hours since they had left the airport in Los Angeles and she was just beginning to recover her composure from the fight she had had with Bob. She just hadn't believed it when he had come home shortly after Jean had left and told her with all his boyish enthusiasm about the visit Mr. Jordan had received from Harry Burns that morning.
God, the nerve of that man!
She had found herself almost blurting out, without thinking, all the things that her early morning visitor had told her about Burns but Bob had kept cutting her off with his speculations on what this would do for his career with the bank and how impressed his boss had been with the sudden results he was getting in his new position.
Finally, after much bickering, she had just given up and has said nothing more than she could not possibly cancel her trip at such a late date. She had lied that her mother had called that morning and told her about all the things she had arranged for her homecoming with friends and this sort of thing. As she had expected, he had not understood and had almost thrown a temper tantrum right in their bedroom.
Perhaps, she tried to rationalize, he had reason for it. It was important to both of them for their future and for the children they were planning on having next year as soon as Bob was settled and secure and they were certain they would have no more financial problems. And, he didn't know about the things Jean had told her and probably wouldn't have believed them anyway even if he had stopped for a moment to listen to her side of the argument. She had had a little more time now since the plane had been in the air, to think more dearly and recover from the shock of the sudden disclosure of Harry Burns' visit to Bob. And perhaps Jean had been wrong. Perhaps there was something psychologically wrong with her that made her fabricate these things about Harry Burns and possibly other people too. After all, Carol had no way of knowing just how reliable a person Jean really was. She had just met her that morning, and aside from the fact that she seemed so sincere and hurt in what she was saying, it just might not be true. Yet it wasn't possible that anyone would tell stories like that without some basis in fact unless they were mentally deranged.
That just didn't seem possible in this case!
Jean appeared so logical in all the other respects that it just could not be the answer. True, she had had quite a bit to drink but not enough to cause her to go off on a tantrum like that. No, there was something to it. There just must be and no amount of success Bob could have in the world could justify her having to defend herself from a man like that. It was just asking too much. She would just have to make Bob listen when she returned home in a few days and maybe he could explain it to Mr. Jordan. He seemed as though he would understand if Bob didn't call her childish again and refuse to hear her side of it.
Carol fluffed up her pillow on the back of the seat and closed her eyes to get some sleep. She would have more of a chance to think things over and perhaps make some sense out of this sudden change of circumstances that had, without warning, shadowed her happiness. A slight shiver of revulsion passed through her body as she thought of the ruddy-faced man next door and his hands reaching out unimpeded toward her body. Sleep came a few minutes later, driving the horrible lewd thoughts of Harry Burns, her neighbor, away.
"Well, Bob boy, I think the program you've been laying out for me the last few hours should work pretty well. As Jordan explained to you, I haven't been too happy with the service this smaller bank has been giving me. They're just too conservative in their investment policy and I think a younger man with new ideas like yourself can help increase my returns on money invested by a great deal. Let's drink to a change as soon as I can get my affairs in order."
Bob, following the lead of Harry Burns, raised his glass of Champagne in toast. He smiled over at the older man's wife as she toasted also, and tipped the glass to his lips.
Boy, he had it made now, he thought happily to himself. He had spent the last two hours at their house and then dinner at Savatini's on the beach explaining the program he envisioned for changing the investment direction of his stock portfolio. He obviously had made quite an impression on Burns and his wife as they had spent most of the evening listening to him. Burns had really surprised him. He wasn't quite the hick Bob had thought when he had first talked to him yesterday in the driveway. Crude perhaps, but a hick he wasn't. He had punctuated Bob's rather complicated explanation of why, at this particular time, it was better to have some of his investment in growth rather than income stock with some sharp observations and suggestions. Some of the suggestions, Bob had to admit, were sound improvements over the plan he had personally worked out this afternoon. Of course, it was only a quick preliminary study, which he had made clear to Burns at the beginning of the evening, and he probably would modify it over the next few days as he received more information on the exact objectives he was to work toward. Some investors wanted to purchase stock that would not pay them much money immediately but over the long period they would gain more. Others wanted a short-term type of stock that paid high dividends to its shareholders. Burns seemed to have a lot of excess money that he didn't need for living purposes, so didn't need a short term investment. He could let his money pile up in a growth stock which would save him income tax at present and he could use the profit later when he retired.
"Bob, you're marvelous," Marsha said, "This is what Harry needs to get him out of that rut he's been in with that bank. I'm sure you'll do wonders for him."
"Why thank you, Mrs. Burns," Bob beamed. She hadn't said too much this evening aside from the usual social amenities that were necessary and had let them go about their business without interruption. But, it was easy to see who would make the difference in whether Harry Burns transferred his account or not. Damn Carol, he thought, she could have turned her charm on Mrs. Burns while he had been working her husband over if she had been here.
"Please call me, Marsha. It looks as though we're going to be neighbors for a long time so we may as well end the formalities right now."
"That's the best idea I've heard in a month of Sundays," her husband chimed in, a slight red flush of alcohol covering his cheeks. "We've had enough of business for one night. Waiter, bring us another bottle of Champagne-and make it good and cold. When I want to drink, I want to drink."
Under normal circumstances Bob would have been embarrassed by the loud voice booming through the dinner club but Burns seemed to be well known here and no one seemed to mind. Besides, he was still flushed from the excitement of landing an account this size. There were some larger ones in the bank but not many from a private individual.
"When do you think, Harry, that you can get your affairs in order with the other bank to make the transfer?"
He wasn't worried about it but it seemed a good thing to bring up at this point. He did have to make the appropriate plans for the re-investment of the money as quickly as possible. A loss of one day could sometimes lose a man with this kind of account a lot of money.
"Oh, don't worry about that right now. We can take care of it by next week sometime. You've made the deal, son, so relax and enjoy yourself."
"Now, don't misunderstand me, Harry," Bob corrected quickly. "I just want to make certain I'm prepared with the proper information when you make the transfer."
"I'd get it in writing as quickly as possible if I were you, Bob," chimed in Marsha. "He's been known to change his mind before."
"Listen you two. We're out to have a good time tonight. Bob's got the deal as soon as I can study over his proposal and that's that, so knock it off. Let's eat, drink and be merry as the saying goes. Why don't you two take a turn around the dance floor? We shouldn't let that good music go to waste."
"I would love to," smiled his wife as she rose from her seat. "I'm sure I won't have to worry about my toes, like with you, dear."
Bob led her out to the dance floor where the small combo was playing one of the quiet old favorites. Marsha took him by surprise when she curled herself warmly into his arms, making certain he could feel the sharp, full tips of her breasts pushing tautly into his chest. He had felt all evening that even though she had not said much during the business conversation, she had had her eye on him. He had tried to ignore it but had somehow felt her eyes almost penetrating through him even when he wasn't looking at her. She was really built and not more than a few years older than he himself and right now with the way she was pushing herself into him he had the feeling that he had better be careful. He couldn't let a deal like this be ruined by some stupid action on his part now. He tried to pull back a little, worried that Burns was watching them from the table. He had never experienced a problem like this before with a client's wife and wasn't exactly certain how he should react. He knew he had to please them both, but by pleasing her he might just offend Burns and destroy his chances of getting this new account.
"Don't be afraid, Bob," Burns wife whispered warmly into his ear, "I won't bite you."
Bob's face flushed in the dimness of the dance floor as he felt her push forward harder, spreading her legs slightly so that the mound of her crotch rubbed hard against the top of his thigh. The soft silkiness of the dress seemed to hide nothing from his senses and he could feel the resilient flesh of her right thigh pressing tightly between his own legs as they moved slowly in time to the music. She had made the contact with the softness of his penis, and breathing wetly up into his ear, ground her leg slowly and methodically against it.
"Surprise you?" she whispered as she felt the first slight stirrings of his rod beneath the pants.
"W-We shouldn't be dancing this close together, Mrs. Burns. I-It doesn't look too good and Harry might see us," was all he could manage in return.
"Oh Harry won't know, my dear boy. He's tied up with that Champagne bottle as usual and doesn't suspect a thing. You know I'm the one who suggested he change his account. I've seen you out the window for the last several days and just had to work someway to get together with you."
"B-But I'm a married man," he stammered in a whisper. "A-And you're married, too."
"That always makes it that much more exciting. Don't you think?"
Bob suddenly lost his tongue. He was so surprised by the sudden and brazen revelation of Mrs. Burns' interest in him that the words just wouldn't come. He just couldn't believe that she was the one who had set this up and brought about the change of the account. It just didn't seem possible that anyone would want to shift that much money around with the attendant risks it involved in losses for such a simple reason. Was she crazy?
"Harry does anything I say, Bob. And I mean anything. If we play it right we can have that account in your hands within a matter of days. It'll make you a big man at the bank."
As she spoke she still ground softly forward with her thigh and gave a low throaty laugh as she felt him involuntarily hardening from the teasing motion.
"You do like it, don't you?" she breathed through Bob's stunned silence.
Before he could answer the music stopped and the combo leader announced it was time for intermission. Bob was happy to see it come. He was in such a state of shock he still hadn't determined if she was kidding or not. But, she just had to be. Things like this didn't happen so suddenly. This woman had to be mad!
"You two looked like a couple of real love birds out there. The sexiest two on the floor." Harry Burns chortled as they sat down at the table. "Too bad your little gal couldn't make it tonight, Bob. We'd shown you two how it should be done."
Marsha Burns nodded slightly to her husband behind Bob's back as he assisted her to her seat signaling that the stage was set. She knew there was no turning back for the young neighbor now. He would do anything for that account and she had made certain he was aware of the fact that to get it he had to please her. She would make certain that she was hard to please. She smiled an inward satisfied smile to herself and lifted the cool Champagne to her lips. Yes, she was going to enjoy playing mama this evening as soon as Harry made his excuse to get out of the way. A slight tinge of anticipation rippled between her thighs as she pictured him naked before her.
"Marsha is an excellent dancer." Bob blushed at Burns' observation of the way he had been dancing with his wife.
"Nice body too, eh?" Burns smiled at him, raising his eyebrows. "Used to be the best in Vegas. Not too many years ago either."
Bob flushed again but Marsha Burns, sensing his embarrassment, came to his rescue.
"Don't mind Harry. He gets carried away now and then with his modern thinking. You'd better watch that sweet little wife of yours when she gets back. He likes to think of himself as the reincarnation of Romeo himself."
Bob winced slightly at the mention of Carol in that vein but ignored it. All he had to do was get this account and they would be set. She didn't have to become involved with these people at all and the way things had suddenly changed in the last few minutes, he wasn't certain he would want her to be. Of course, if she had been here, perhaps he wouldn't have been in the position he was in now. She could have been keeping Marsha occupied.
"I think Harry looks like he could handle himself pretty well with the women," Bob said diplomatically, smiling as though he appreciated the joke Marsha had made about her husband and Carol.
"Telephone for you, Mr. Burns," the waiter interrupted out of nowhere. Bob had been so engrossed in his thoughts about their remarks that he hadn't even noticed him approach the table.
"Be right back, you two. No rubbing knees under the table while I'm gone," he laughed as he followed the waiter out to the lounge.
"You'll have to excuse Harry." Marsha apologized. "He can be pretty raw sometimes. But he does mean well, so pay no attention to him."
"I think he's delightful, Marsha. And of course I don't take him seriously when he talks that way."
"But, my dear boy, you'd better be taking me seriously," she grinned a secretive grin at him across the table. "I mean what I say and I'm going to get you as quickly as we get the chance. I'm difficult to control when I get something on my mind."
"Marsha, you've got to be kidding." he answered. "Just suppose we were to do something and Harry found out. That's a fine start for a man to make in his new job. Why, I'd be fired tomorrow."
"I can handle Harry, my love," she smiled back at him. "You just handle me."
Bob looked up to see Harry approaching across the dance floor. He was relieved to see him come back and put an end to this play of words. It was a dangerous game, he knew that, and one that he knew absolutely nothing about except that anyone with ambition in the banking business had better stay away from it.
"Well, sorry, kids, but I just heard from the office in Ventura. We've had a robbery and one of the night men's been shot. I've got to get up there right away," He spoke quickly without sitting down. "You two stay here and have a good time. I'll drive on up from here and you can take a cab home. Sorry, Bob, but guess you'll have to see Marsha home for me."
Bob's mouth dropped. He knew what taking care of Marsha was going to involve but was struck so suddenly by the realization that they were going to be left alone there was no protest he could make. He sat almost stunned for the moment and raised his hand in a weak "goodbye" to Harry Burns as he turned from the table to leave. He watched him disappear through the crowd and suddenly felt like a helpless trapped animal cornered by the hunter. Her voice singing softly across the table brought him abruptly back to reality.
"Someone up there is answering all my prayers today. Don't you think so?"
"Marsha, we can't do anything tonight. What if Harry comes back unexpectedly?" he said in an almost pleading tone.
"Dear, he won't be back until tomorrow and your wife's away. What better chance will we ever have."
"No," Bob refused, an obstinate tone in his voice. "We just can't do it and that's final. I could never face Harry or Carol again if we did."
"My dear, order us a couple of double glasses of Scotch and then let's talk about the morality of it. Shall we?"
He mechanically did her bidding and sat in silence as the waiter disappeared into the bar and returned a few seconds later with the drinks. Marsha said nothing but just sat across from him with a faint confident smile on her lips. She had been through this before and was looking forward to seeing him squirm later on tonight as she really put him through the paces. She would make it a screw he would never forget, she vowed to herself. It wasn't often she got the chance to really break someone in who was this young and naive. In fact, she mused to herself, she had almost forgotten such innocence still existed. Even though there was not much difference in their ages, they were a world apart in experience.
"Well, here's to us and our getting to know each other better before the night's over." Marsha tipped her glass to her lips and took a large, deep swallow of the light, smooth liquid, her eyes sparkling at him over the top of the glass.
Bob quickly followed suit. He needed it. Here he was with the chance of a lifetime right before him and the success or failure of it depended on this damn nymphomaniac sitting in front of him. Damn Carol anyway. If she had been here this wouldn't have happened and he wouldn't be sitting here alone and at the mercy of Burns' wife. If she had only listened to reason then none of this would have happened. He also recalled his parting words to her. "Alright, I'll take care of it myself. I don't need your help." This statement was forcing him into the position where he had to succeed at almost any cost.
"Another Scotch for your thoughts," Marsha broke the silence, the still confident smile playing across her lips.
Bob tilted his glass up, finishing it and waved to the waiter to bring two more. The first one helped to loosen his nerves up a bit, perhaps another would give him a better idea how to proceed with this little game.
"No real thoughts," Bob answered her question after a momentary pause. "I'm just wondering what makes me so attractive to a woman like you who could just drop her handkerchief and get any man she wants. I'm sure you don't have to pay for it."
"You tend to underrate yourself, Mr. Benson," she smiled coyly. "You're a very handsome and desirable man."
"Well," Bob smiled back, the tension eased slightly by the Scotch. "I must be pretty desirable to have a two-hundred-thousand dollar account thrown at me like this."
"I'm not having Harry give you the money, my dear, you're just going to invest it for him. There's quite a difference."
"Is this the way this game of business is played?" he asked dryly, fingering the second glass the waiter had arrived with.
"Perhaps not always, but it's the fun way to play it. Don't you agree?"
He had to smile at this. It was amazing at how unimportant money became to someone who had it. And also, what it really could buy. He had never in his entire life thought of people spending it this way. In fact, not even spending it, merely using it to best advantage. It was true what she said, he wasn't getting any of the money-but he was still being paid. What a come down from the lofty thoughts he had had earlier today when he had been called in Jordan's office and told that Burns wanted him to handle his account because he was impressed with him.
"Shall we drink up and be on the way home?" Marsha suggested.
She sensed the break in Bob's resolve not to give in and had for that reason allowed him plenty of time to think and ponder over what the loss of a two hundred thousand dollar account would mean. She knew she hadn't completed the seduction yet but a few more drinks in the intimacy of the basement at home and perhaps a few of Harry's more subtle stag movies if they became necessary.
"Yes, let's do," Bob agreed. The second double Scotch had given him more courage now and he thought perhaps he could handle her without getting too deeply involved. If he couldn't, well, he would just have to see. He had to have that account at all costs, but short, he hoped, of prostituting himself for it. He knew, without a doubt, that this woman across from him held the key to his entire future at the bank.
The ride back to the neighborhood was agonizing for Bob. Marsha had given him the keys to drive and then had snuggled up next to him and teased him with her fingers and hands all the way home. He had weakly protested when she had unzipped his fly and wormed her hand inside his pants, teasing him into hardness. There was no way he could resist in the heavy traffic they were going through so had just sat in tortured silence as she stroked and fondled him at will. It was obvious she was enjoying his discomfort and kept up a steady stream of seductive conversation describing the things she was going to do to him when they arrived at the house.
He had never been so happy in his life as when they pulled up in front of the Burns' residence and he could fight her away. He reddened slightly and she laughed beside him as he had difficulty in pushing his hardened penis back inside his trousers.
"You could just leave it out," she kidded with a laugh. "It'll save time later."
Bob got out of the car and opened the door for her and, with a guilty look at his darkened house next door, followed her into her own house.
Once they were inside, Marsha led him straight through the living room and back to the den, pausing only once to collect a key from a cabinet in the hallway.
"Now, I'm going to show you our little pride and joy." she said with excitement "We entertain some of our more select friends here once a month or so."
He followed her silently when she drew back a curtain in the den and unlocked a leather-padded door and descended a set of stairs into the basement. It led them into a hallway that had two rooms off each side of it. They were beautifully decorated with the main item of furniture being a large king-sized bed that covered most of the floor space. The walls and ceiling were almost all mirrored, with each room otherwise done in varying colors. One was red, one was blue, and the other two were done in green and yellow respectively. She commented proudly on each as she led him on to a larger room at the end of the corridor. It was large and round with curved couches lining the walls that looked more like beds because of the width of the seats. A bar about fifteen feet long lined one side of the room off to the left. Marsha guided him there as Bob's mouth gaped open in wonder at the expense that had gone into this place.
"Now, what for a drink?" she asked, noting with satisfaction that he had been deeply impressed so far with their entertainment area.
"Scotch will do," he answered, his eyes still wandering around the room in amazement.
"No," she smiled, "I've changed my mind. I'm going to give you our little party special. You may need an aphrodisiac to keep up with me."
She walked behind the bar and brought up a bottle filled with a thick green liquid. It was labeled 'Pernod'.
"Pernod?" he asked quizzically. "That's no aphrodisiac. You can buy it anywhere."
"Not this kind, you can't, love. It's the old type they used to drink in France during Hemingway's time. It's outlawed now."
"What's so different about it?" Bob answered with an unconvinced tone in his voice. "It looks the same to me."
"It's made from absinthe which comes from the wormwood tree," she explained as she poured out two half glasses and filled them the rest of the way with water. "It's against the law everywhere now but Spain and Nassau."
Bob watched the thick green color slowly change to a milky white as she poured the water in. He was fascinated by it and in spite of her terming it an aphrodisiac was anxious to try it.
"There you are," she said, after dropping in several cubes of ice. "Give it a try."
Bob, following Marsha's lead, lifted the glass to his lips and took a small experimental sip. It tasted like licorice and was smooth going down. He lifted it again and took a larger sip.
"Like it?"
"Mmmmm," he answered, "doesn't seem all that potent."
"It gets you when you least expect it. Never makes you dull and sleepy like alcohol, either, just leave a mellow, smooth feeling in you all the time you're drinking it.
"And the aphrodisiac part?"
"That will come, love, that will come," she smiled, reaching over the bar and patting his hand. "Now let me show some of the other wonders of our little meeting-place."
"And just what kind of meeting is this? You've got to admit it's a bit unusual for an ordinary social gathering."
Marsha tightened her grip slightly on his hand and directed a soft, secret smile at him.
"Let's just say it's for a few discreet friends of our that we have over now and then. But don't worry about that now. You'll learn a great deal more about it later. I'll see to that."
"They must be quite discreet, I must say," Bob mused aloud to her.
"Yes," she laughed, "They are. But you still haven't seen it all. Watch this."
She turned to the back of the bar and flicked a small switch on an instrument panel. A sliding panel opened directly behind the bar, exposing four rows of large twenty-seven inch television screens set next to each other. Above each row was a printed sign designating the colors Red, Green, Blue and Yellow.
"Someone likes his TV, I can see." Bob laughed. "But I didn't know we had that many channels in town."
Marsha flicked the switch labeled red and to Bob's amazed eyes the screen sputtered for a few moments and then burst forth in color. The first row of screens marked red showed a red bed at different angles. Number one screen at the top looked directly down on it from above. Number two screen showed it from one side and number three from the other. Number four camera was aimed at the foot of the bed about level with it so that it would show the feet of anyone lying on it.
"Recognize it?" she asked.
"It looks like the red room we were just in a moment ago." Bob answered, a surprised tone in his voice. "And a pretty complete view too."
"You get an 'A' for that little observation. Now watch this."
She turned a knob beside screen number four and it brought the bed in for a close-up.
"They all have adjustable telescopic lenses that can be controlled from here. Not bad, eh?"
"No, not at all," he whistled, "I'd hate to be a poor guy making love to his girl in there. There's not much privacy."
"That makes it that much more fun when you know someone's watching but you can't see them. Now, one more gimmick that we're really proud of. Watch the big screen on the opposite wall."
Marsha pushed another small switch and suddenly the view from screen number four was transmitted to the huge movie screen across the room. She played with the switches far a few moments, flicking back and forth from the image on each of the screens and bringing out any she desired in full blow-up on the big screen.
"Good grief," Bob muttered in disbelief. "How is that set up?"
"Just like a heavyweight fight in a movie theater. And sometimes," she added with a laugh, "the action in those beds gets just about as rough."
"You don't mean you actually use those thing, do you?" he asked, realizing ac he said it, that it was a foolish question. No one spent the fantastic amount of money that must have been necessary to build this thing under their house for no reason at all.
"Just when we get bored, my dear," she kidded him. "Here, you make the drinks this time. If you're going to be a good neighbor you have to learn about these things. I'll take a walk to the little girl's room while you're fixing them. I'll use the one in the blue room. Push the blue button and I'll show you what I mean about how much fun these can be if you use them for the right things.
She squeezed Bob's hand tightly and disappeared into the corridor toward the blue door. He walked slowly around the edge of the bar, almost afraid to touch anything after the electronic display he had just seen. He was afraid he might accidentally push a wrong button and blow the place sky-high.
He looked over the switchboard carefully and cautiously pushed the button marked blue. While it warmed up he turned to the bar and poured them another drink. He added a little more this time, admitting to himself that it did have a nice soft effect. He was already feeling light-headed and a "don't give a damn feeling" seemed to be spreading over him. In fact, he felt damn good. A helluva lot better than he had in a long time, for that matter. He added a little water to each of them and testing his with a good substantial gulp, turned back to the wall where the row of screens marked blue had come on in perfect automatic focus. The whole of the room was visible with the bed centered right in the middle of the screen. It was almost a better view than being right in the room. He had a completely unimpeded view of the whole area. He hated to think how much a set-up like this had cost. It staggered the imagination, the amount of work and know-how that had gone into setting it up.
Taking periodic sips from the now familiar absinthe, he began to study the switch and dial system. It was so well marked that even a child could operate it. He assumed that all one had to do was stand at the bar and tell the bartender what one wanted to see. He could zero in on any specific action in any room that looked as though it might be interesting.
But who in the hell did they fill those rooms with? It must be one of those neighborhood swap set-ups he had read so much about in the papers recently. But God, how did they get away with it without someone who would disapprove catching on and turning them in? It wouldn't take more than one puritanical neighbor to upset the entire thing. Unless ... they were all part of it. The thoughts floating through his mind were suddenly cut short by a voice coming from a small speaker over the row of sets tuned in on the blue room. He turned and looked in surprise. Marsha was standing at the foot of the bed looking directly at him through the TV. She had walked out of the bathroom attached to the room while he had been absorbed in his thoughts and begun speaking to him over the intercom.
"Hi, enjoying yourself?"
He was too surprised to speak.
"Don't be bashful, just talk. I can hear you over the speaker."
"Y-Yess, I am surprised," he finally answered after recovering from the abrupt shock of seeing her on the screen.
"Well, don't be," she smiled. "Just go ahead and drink your drink while I get more comfortable."
She looked at him again out of the corner of her eye and added with a slight teasing curl on her lip: "You can watch if you want to."
He looked down at his glass again, embarrassed. He was thinking how stupid it was when she was not even near him. How would he feel if she were looking him in the eye and saying such things? He drained the glass again for the smooth energizing courage it seemed to be giving him. It was odd, but with each further sip of the milky white liquid the fears he had been carrying since they left the restaurant seemed to be slipping further and further away. A strange confidence that he had never possessed before seemed to be seeping magically through his blood, so smoothly, that he had hardly noticed the change. He marveled at the effect. It just wasn't like alcohol at all. There was no deadening of the senses of touch or thought, in fact if anything, it intensified them.
His thoughts returned abruptly to Burns' wife on the screen behind him and he turned just in time to see her dropping the simple black cocktail dress she had been wearing to the floor. He felt a slight jerk from his prick beneath his pants as her body came into view. She was moving slowly, allowing the effect she knew it would he having on him to sink in. She knew how it should be done to do exactly this. There were no lewd or obscene movements on her part and she behaved as though she were in her own dressing-room, unaware of his existence. He felt somehow like a peeping Tom looking into a window from a secret hiding place in the driveway.
The lewd thought somehow made her performance more appealing to him.
He felt another slight jerk under his pants, his prick hardening slightly this time as she turned from the camera and bent over to pick up her dress from the floor. The full rounded moons of her buttocks came into tantalizing view in the camera pointed at the foot of the bed. She couldn't have been more than three feet from the lens and it gave him a completely unimpeded view of the narrow nylon strip of her panties between her firm full thighs that tightened momentarily as she bent over. The panties slipped teasingly into the crevice of her buttocks from the pressure of the position and then remained bunched up in the hollows as she straightened up again to take the dress to a hanger on the wall. He watched her with bated breath now as she walked across the room, the cheeks of her buttocks joggling slightly as she moved. It was a careful, practiced walk that smacked of the stage though imperceptible unless one knew she had worked as a dancer.
Harry had been right about his wife when he had said she was built. He could understand now why they had hired her in Vegas. There was a lithe suppleness about her that dripped sex and nothing else. He was certain she had lost nothing since that time as her body was still perfection. He was still awed by the fact that she seemed so much more mature and worldly than he, though it was apparent she was not much older.
One thing was certain now, he could not back down from her. If she needed it badly enough to go this far then he didn't stand a chance in the world of getting that account unless he went along with her. Also, damn it, it was as much Carol's fault as his. She could have prevented this entire situation if she had just delayed her trip home by one day. It hadn't been asking too much of her. She deserved his infidelity if that's what it took to make up for the job she should have been doing of keeping his client's wife occupied with small talk.
His mind droned on, the cool liquid rationalizing away the defenses he had built up earlier at the restaurant with each further sip. He watched Marsha more intensely now as she turned back from the wall dressed now only in bra, panties, and garter belt. The thin veneer of the stockings she wore shone silkily in the not-too-bright light of the room and her black high-heeled shoes set them off to good effect. It suddenly occurred to him that he'd like to take her like that with the stockings and high heels still on. He had never had a woman like that and though he had sometimes tried playfully to pull Carol down on the bed while she was undressing, she had always, in her best puritanical manner, pushed him away and continued her preparation for bed in the bathroom. Come to think of it, he had not seen her that way very often. She seemed to have a thing about it that he could not understand. She didn't like for him to see her partly dressed or naked.
He had tried to explain to her that a man needed a little preparation for it just as women did and couldn't just crawl in bed and begin to go at it without some kind of prior titillation. But God, this Marsha Burns knew about these things. She knew what a woman's body was for and he bet she knew how to use it in bed, too.-there could be no doubt about that.
He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped it hurriedly across his brow to absorb the tiny beads of perspiration that were beginning to form from the tenseness of his body. He quickly poured another drink from the bottle he had left standing on the bar and drained half of it before the ice even had had time to cool it properly. He needed it now as the erection in his pants had risen to almost its full height. The tight restricting material of his shorts hurt and he pushed down, allowing it to slip out one leg band into the greater looseness of his slacks. It helped for a moment.
"Bob," he suddenly heard the softness of her voice coming over the speaker in front of him. "Bring my drink."
He jumped slightly from the unexpected sound. almost knocking over his glass. He had been too immersed in his thoughts while watching her move on the screen to be prepared for the sudden summons.
"Bob," she repeated softly again. "Are you there?"
"Y-Yes," he stammered back to her. "I'm bringing it now."
"Well hurry, it's impolite to keep a woman waiting when she's cold this way."
She pursed her lips softly at him through the distance of the screen and sat back slowly on the edge of the bed. Bob flushed for the third time that evening as he tried to force his erect cock back into the tightness of his shorts. He couldn't walk into the room like this. It was too obvious. After a moments struggle, he got it pressed down the best he could and reached over and switched the TV sets off. He started hesitantly toward the hallway with both drinks in his hand, his courage bolstered by the strangeness of the Pernod. No thoughts of resisting remained in his mind now, only the hesitancy of his own inexperience, but this self-doubt was fading rapidly.
His neighbor's wife opened the door for him, staring at him and smiling slowly. She was wearing a light nylon robe now that came just to the tops of her thighs and it was obvious that she had shed the bra and panties while he was bringing the drinks. She had left the garter belt, sheer silk stockings and high heels on. The deep cleavage of her breasts showed without impediment at the top.
"Mmmmm," she grinned over the top of her glass she had taken from his hand. "You're learning quickly. Just the right amount."
"I've been practicing on myself," Bob answered raising his glass toward her. He suddenly found he didn't feel nervous at all. He felt the beginning of a glowing power and self-confidence that he had never experienced before. He felt marvelous, as if he had finally found the true strength within himself, one that had lain latent during all these years he had been married to Carol, all these years that he had catered to her modest, schoolgirl ideas about making love. He knew that making love to this woman standing almost naked before him was going to change him and perhaps nothing less would ever satisfy him again.
Marsha lowered her eyes for a moment to the bulge at his crotch. She grinned again, a bit more forcefully this time.
"You like me," she said simply, with a twinkle in her eye, "I can tell."
"You're most observant," he laughed nervously, "I didn't think you'd notice."
"How could I help it? You're quite a man."
She settled herself on the edge of the bed, leaning hack on both her elbows. The softness of the robe rode up over her thighs, exposing the soft silky down of her pubic mound at the base of her smooth white belly. She patted the bed beside her, indicating for him to sit.
"Well," she said after he had settled himself, "tell me something about yourself. You know, I really know very little a!-out you-or your wife."
Bob was taken aback for a moment. What was there to say about himself or Carol either, for that matter? But before he had recovered from the surprise question enough to answer, she said: "No, it isn't really important now. We can talk about that later when we get to know each other better. Do you like the Pernod?"
"It makes me less inhibited. I will say that," he kidded, reaching over with one hand and tracing small tiny circles with the sharpness of his nails over the whiteness of her stomach.
Marsha shivered for a moment at the first contact of his fingers against the softness of her flesh.
"Mmmm, it makes you braver, too. At first tonight, I didn't know if you were going to get in bed with me or not."
"That was a hundred years ago, I think," he smiled over to her, feeling a slight flush from the drinks. "Shall I get us another drink?"
"There's some in the cabinet," she pointed to the corner of the room. "We've got all the services, including automatic ice machine."
Bob rose, taking her glass from her hand and glanced down at the thin hair-lined lips of her vagina clearly visible between her slightly parted legs. He did not blush this time and a pleased smile crossed over his face as she opened them a little more, a teasing grin lining her lips. He could see that she was excited. The first tiny dewdrops of moisture rising between her legs were faintly visible glistening in the tight narrow slit as she exposed herself to him. He hurried with the drinks this time, the heat in his own body rising rapidly.
When he returned to the side of the bed with the drinks, she had loosened the front of the robe, exposing the large full mounds of her breasts, the ripe ruby nipples staring up at him wetly. She had moistened them with saliva from her tongue so that their pink bud-like tips throbbed slightly from the touch of her own fingers against them.
"God, you're beautiful," he muttered, staring down at her nakedness with the drinks in his hands. He could see that her eyes had dilated a little from the excitement also. It was all he could do to keep from dropping to his knees in front of her and locking his lips to the softness of her flesh at that very moment, but he held himself back. He sensed that she needed more. She knew what making love was about and wasn't the kind of woman one just jumped on top of and rammed it into without preparing her well for it. The reward would be well worth the torture of waiting.
"You're not bad yourself," she smiled up at him smoky, reaching up for the drink he offered. "In fact, you're quite a handsome young man."
"I'm not that young," he defended. "Almost as old as you."
"Have you had many women? Other than you wife, I mean?" She asked, matter of faculty, as though it were a perfectly normal question.
"Enough," he lied, leaning over her and kissing her lightly on the lips as though he had done this kind of thing all his life.
She pushed him away for a moment.
"Here, put my drink on the table, darling. I'll spill it."
He took both of them and placed them by the bed quickly and then leaned over her again, pressing his lips tightly down against hers. She reached up, curled her arms around and pulled him down on her. One of his legs fell tightly between her open thighs. She was surprisingly supple and soft and her body was glued into his as though it belonged there. She moved her thigh up against his crotch as he ground his lips harshly into her, bringing his cock to a painful hardness. He could feel the wetness from the seminal fluid seeping from the gland on the hardening tip. It smeared against his leg inside his pants until he was certain she could feel the wetness through the material. She continued massaging him with a practiced thoroughness until he thought the head would explode. It was jerking now as though he would cum at the slightest extra pressure and he would, he could feel it building deep in his testicles below. He thrust his tongue deep in her mouth as she sucked gently on it, nibbling with tiny sharp nips of her teeth that sent chills running the length of his spine. He pulled his head away to escape the teasing sensation and placed his cheeks against her hair, thinking guiltily for a moment of Carol and the shock it would be to her if she could seen him now, stretched over the almost nude body of their neighbor's wife. Her girlish innocence wouldn't believe it. She just didn't know infidelity existed.
"Is your wife good in bed?" Marsha suddenly whispered into his ear as though reading his thoughts.
"She's too inexperienced," he answered without the slightest shock at her name being mentioned at a time like this. Good Lord, he thought wryly, I've changed in the last few hours.
"I'll teach you some things you can take home to her." She promised softly, breathing heavily into his ear again. "Let's get naked."
He realized suddenly that she was quivering beneath him. Her thighs were moving against his loins.
"You want to fuck me, don't you?" She breathed deeper this time.
"Yes, God yes, I want to." He answered, the lewd words coming from her mouth exciting him more. "Then tell me!"
"I want to fuck you."
"How?" she groaned beneath him.
"Deep, deep and hard. I want to fuck you like you've never been fucked before."
"Oh God," she moaned, almost throwing him from her squirming body. "Get you clothes off before I die."
He rose from the bed and began desperately stripping his clothes from his body. A slight tinge of self-consciousness came over him as he dropped his pants and shorts and stood over her still lying on the bed with his cock standing out in naked erection in front of him. She lifted her body slightly and squirmed out of the flimsy robe she was wearing, leaving her with nothing on but her garter belt and hose. Her black high heels fell to the floor with a double thud that sounded almost as a single sound they come so close together. She looked up at him standing stark nude above her. Her eyes riveted on the penis standing out in the air. She watched the throbbing of the blood-filled head for a moment, and said, "I like it. It's going to feel good going inside of me and twisting around deep in my cunt. Oh God, I want you to screw me with it."
He lay down on the bed beside her, dragging her over to him with the strength of his arms. He moved one hand down to the smoothness of her buttocks and cupped them. They were beautifully shaped and sinewy as he had expected them to be. Her body was warm and soft against him and she raised her face to his, locking her mouth tightly to him as her hand searched down between them for the hardness of his penis. He gasped as the coolness of her fingers closed around his rigidity. He pressed his head forward and kissed her moistly back. Her odor was maddening, a perfume that he didn't recognize, but reminded him dimly of the freshness of spring azaleas. Her lips were soft and gave before the harsher pressure of his teeth with a yielding rubbery softness that sent tiny chills over his skin. She crushed the full length of her body against his and ground her pelvis tightly into him before suddenly twisting her body and pulling him over on top of her, opening her legs wide to take him between them.
Harry Burns sat at the bar in the "Playpen" with a triumphant grin on his face as he concentrated on the row of TV screens marked "Blue." He had entered a few moments after Bob had followed his wife into the blue room and switched the sets back on. He sipped contentedly from the tall Scotch in front of him as he watched the action progressing.
Damn, he thought, Marsha really knows how to handle herself in the sack!
He could feel a slight tinge of jealousy overcoming him as he studied her face and saw the unmistakable signs he knew so well. This was no put-on act, but then, he should know by now that with her it was never put on. She just liked to screw and that was that. He switched the set pointed at the foot of the bed onto the large screen on the wall to get a better view and turned the volume on the small cartridge-type tape recorder in front of him higher. He didn't want to miss any of this. He had plans for this tape. It was going to get him inside the wife of this bastard getting ready to screw the hell out o f Marsha now. He leaned back with the contented thought of those long slim legs of his neighbor wrapped tight around him as he shoved his cock into her and fucked her within an inch of her life. By God, he'd show her what a piece of tail was. She'd never forget it as long as she lived. He could feel his own prick hardening at the thought as he turned his attention back to the two bodies struggling on the giant screen on the wall across the room. Small beads o f sweat began to form on his brow from the excitement he always felt when he watched another man fucking his wife.
Marsha crushed Bob tight to her and ran her hands searchingly down over his body, exploring eagerly the secret hollows of all of him. His cock was resting hard against her thighs, pressed into the narrow hair-lined slit of her cunt. She arched up for a moment levering them both up off the bed with the strength of her back and, reaching under her buttocks with both hands, pulled her vaginal lips slowly apart giving his penis greater contact with the wet sensitive flesh as it lay the full length of the moist gently throbbing slit. She relaxed, dropping her body back to the bed, his rigid member trapped tightly between her thighs.
He forced his hands between her shoulders and the mattress and ran them down the soft curves of her back and hips. He could feel the raised ridges of her spine moving almost imperceptibly as she undulated her body up against him in a slow, teasing rhythm. The sinews of her muscles rippled lightly just under the thin tan skin indicating a powerful hidden strength in her body. The tenseness of the cords in her thighs pressed against the outside of his hips. He wondered how they would grip around him later when he had sunk his hardness deep inside her.
"Oh God, you feel nice," she whispered, smashing her lips against him again and writhing the flatness of her belly close up against him. Her nails trailed across his back, leaving small red welts in their path. He pushed his hands farther down beneath her, cupping the fullness of her ass in the palms of his hands and pulled her open crotch up tighter against him. He moved up and down slowly, insinuating the hardness of his full length up and down the widespread split, sensing it grow wetter and wetter with each passing second. Her ass began a more desperate rotation up against his loins until her legs, without warning, snaked out wide on either side of his body, her calves locking against the back of his thighs, pulling him tighter into her.
"Oooh, fuck me now, darling, fuck me now." She moaned into his mouth, her eyes clenched tightly shut, her pelvis grinding.
He started to move but she beat him to it. Her hands came down between them and circled around his throbbing cock, guiding it between the lips of her hot desire-moistened cunt. Bob groaned above her as he felt her move it up and down between her legs, parting the soft silky hair of her vagina with the pulsating blood-filled head. They grazed teasingly against it, forcing it into a greater hardness until it ached from the excruciating pressure.
He couldn't hold back another second and flicked his hips forward with a sudden cruel thrust that drove it with a flesh-splitting crash into the gaping hot mouth of her pussy.
"Ooooohh," she moaned beneath him as he felt the warm elastic-like sheath slip wetly over his sensitive naked flesh. It entered with a slight pop, as though she were a virgin being taken for the first time except that it was easier and infinitely better because she could control her vaginal muscles that way every time he fucked her. And he didn't intend for this to be the last time. He was learning, and learning fast, he wasn't going to let this get away for long.
His long, thin cock raced up her cunt to the full depths of her belly, warm and tight at first, aching the full length of the rigid member and then easier as the wetness of the passage surrounded him, lubricating the way.
Suddenly, he hit bottom, his balls slapping hard against the rounded cheeks of her ass.
Burns' wife screamed a low, animal-like scream beneath him, twisting momentarily to escape the sudden unexpected pain, but he thrust harder, screwing his pelvis tighter into her loins so there was no escape for her. She was skewered good and he lay for a moment to allow the pain of the sudden entry to subside, proud that he could hurt her this way.
He had gained the upper hand he knew because he had hurt her and she could not hurt back in return.
It was the age-old plight of woman and would always make her subjugated to man. He reveled for a moment in the power he possessed over another man's wife impaled beneath him and flicked the head again bringing another low moan from between her clenched teeth.
Goddamn, he's fucking her good, Harry Burns mused from his seat at the bar as he watched the fleshy hard instrument of his young neighbor disappear to the hilt between his wife's widespread thighs. He wondered with a half-cruel smile on his face what the kid was going to look like when he saw his own wife being fucked within an inch of her life that way by some guy she hardly even knew, namely, Harry Burns. An obscene thrill rippled through him at the thought and he half wished they would hurry. Marsha might not know it yet but she was going to get it again tonight after the kid finished with her. In fact, the way he felt now, thinking about ramming it in between those long slim legs next door, she was going to get it good.
Bob ground his pelvis into the squirming flaccid flesh beneath him as she strained back under him, arching her loins up at him, lifting them both a few inches off the squeaking mattress from the strength of her upward thrusts. She moaned ceaselessly beneath his pounding body, opening and closing her legs around his hips as she worked up and down in a chanting rhythm of intercourse as old as man's world itself. Her mouth gaped open wide, her head flailing from side to side on the mattress again and again in wild abandon.
"Oooh God, it's good, it's good! Shove your finger in my ass! Make me scream, damn it, make me scream!" she coughed at him in her daze.
He reached under her between her buttocks as he drove his cock rhythmically into the wetness of her cunt. He stretched the crevice of her ass wide, searching with the tip of his middle finger for her anus.
Suddenly he found it.
A small rivulet of warm moisture was running down the widespread crevice from where he could feel his hard rod of flesh sawing into her. It moistened the tight puckered little hole, lubricating it slightly and he probed experimentally for a moment with the tip of his finger. He pushed hard, feeling it give a little, and then suddenly the tight elastic nether ring gave way completely and his finger slid in up to the first knuckle joint. She jumped forward, almost crawling on her back across the bed to escape the first unexpected pain.
"Aaaahhhh, God it hurts!"
He thrust again, sinking it to the second knuckle.
"Oooooohhh! Yessss, yesss! Hurt me! Hurt me more!"
In spite of the pain, he felt her suddenly begin screwing her buttocks back on his finger until it was sunk to the palm of his hand. He jiggled it inside, rotating it around in the fleshy depths of her rectum. He could feel through the thin wall of flesh separating her two passages the underside of his cock sliding in and out of her and began skewering her between them, maintaining the same rhythm for both as she groaned on under him. His nail caught the flesh momentarily in her asshole scraping her and she jerked, but then caught up the rhythm again, opening her legs wide out over the bed to give him greater access to the ravishing of her loins.
Bob could feel his cock growing and expanding inside her until it felt as though it were going to burst from the exquisite pleasure building in his testicles as they slapped heavily against her buttocks below. It wouldn't be long he hoped, he knew he could hold it back. She had to cum soon. He began ramming it into her with long hard strokes in time with his finger skewering into her asshole to excite her more.
He could tell she was near completion as she gripped him tight between her thighs, opening and closing them around him in time to his long, hard thrusts into her. She gurgled beneath him, the sound coming from deep deep within her throat as though she had no control over it. He knew she was near and he continued his merciless thrusting with all his strength.
"Oooohhh, fuck it, fuck it hard, hard! Harddddd!" she chanted, mumbling all the obscene words that came to her mind and spurring him on with the pounding of her heels high on his back. She had jackknifed her legs up tight, pressing her knees back hard into her breasts and offering him the full opening of her upraised crotch. Her eyes rolled uncontrollably in her head, her face contorted and straining for the final explosion so near.
"I'm cumming," she coughed suddenly, her mouth gaping wide in ecstatic abandon. "I'm cumming," she repeated again as though convincing herself. She mumbled on incoherently until the sounds coming from her throat were a mass of jumbled unintelligible syllables whose meaning was known only to herself. She pulled back her thighs tighter until the whole of her stretched pink vaginal slit was presented up to him to batter and use as he willed. Her ankles locked over his shoulders, her crotch squirming beneath him in a wild uninhibited dance of abandoned ecstasy. Her mouth hung open wide, unseeing eyes gazed wide at the ceiling.
Jesus, look at her go, Harry Burns grinned in lewd excitement as he watched his wife racing for the final climax under the wildly fucking body o f his neighbor.
A low banshee style scream suddenly formed on the edges of her lips and then pierced through the sounds of the squeaking springs and the two panting bodies slapping brutally together. Burns' wife's nostrils flared wide and she screwed herself up on his thrusting cock and locked herself to him with all the strength of the thighs while her loins jerked spasmodically against his belly.
She held her breath for an interminable moment and then expelled it as though hit in the stomach by a solid fist, her body collapsing limply down into the mattress. She lay still, except for the uncontrollable quivering of her pussy still locked tightly around his tortured prick. He pushed deep into and then lay quiet, allowing her to rest for a moment.
It was all he could do to keep from continuing to screw into her. God, he had never in his life seen anything like it. He had never felt anything like it either. He throbbed the muscles of his prick deep in her belly, hoping to bring her to life again.
"That was nice," she mumbled. "I haven't had a ride like that in a long time."
"You're not finished yet," Bob gasped down at her, the ache throbbing hotly in his balls.
"God," she murmured in approval, "you held back for a long time."
"But not much more," he breathed hard, "I'm almost there."
"Roll over," she smiled sweetly up at him. "I'm going to give you a special reward for being so patient."
He pulled back, sliding his hardness wetly out of the soft warmth of her pussy. He hated to pull it out, he was so near to shooting it in her belly that he didn't want to stop but he had to let her have her way. It would be best the first time until he learned more about making love to her. He had never done anything with Carol but get on top of her and after a few quick strokes shoot off his load and that was it. She didn't like to play and he even had the impression sometimes that she merely tolerated his love-making and didn't really enjoy it. Well, maybe he'd learn some things that might make her change her tune about things.
He'd just let his neighbor's wife handle it from now on until he learned a little more about really pleasing a woman.
He reluctantly rolled from the softness of her body over onto his back, thin sticky trails of her orgasm following his cock across her lower thigh. He lay tense with his rigidity pointed straight up at the mirrored ceiling. He could see them both reflected in it and followed her movements expectantly without having to raise his head and look down at her.
She turned on her side toward him and, reaching out with her hand, began stroking him, sliding the loose flesh up and down in a slow, magical rhythm that caused his ache to increase almost beyond endurance. Then she rose to her knees and hovered over him on all fours, her face a scant few inches from the throbbing moist head of his prick. She held it tightly between both hands, stroking it between the flat of her palms in a teasing up and down motion that caused his loins to undulate in time to her maddening rhythm.
Her head dropped slowly toward the hardness of him and suddenly her tongue flicked forward, the tip boring teasingly into the wetness of the tiny gland on the end. He sucked his breath in from the sudden unexpected contact. Chills rippled along the back of his spine, bringing a groan from his lips. She brought her mouth down all the way and enclosed the whole of the sensitive head in a moist, warm pressure. Her lips tightened like an elastic band around it just below the head, trapping it completely inside the warm, wet cavern of her mouth.
"Christ!" he groaned, lifting his head from the bed and staring down at her contorted face. The sight of his hard shaft of flesh sunk halfway between her ovaled lips increased the sensation a thousand-fold. It was still wet from the juices of her orgasm and glistened like the stump of a wet tree along the part she had not yet taken between her soft moist lips. She massaged the soft resilient skin of his testicles gently with one hand and stroked the base of his cock between the thumb and forefinger of the other as she began to suck rhythmically up and down. He could feel the softness of her tongue twirling maddeningly around it at the apex of the withdrawal, the tip flicking magically across the tiny opening of the gland on the end. He flexed his buttocks, his head still raised, watching the top of her head bobbing up and down below. The sight of her labors made it all the more exciting for him.
Marsha could feel his throbbing reaction and began to suck his prick a little harder, the tips of her teeth digging gently into the hard resisting flesh, leaving small white trails where they had scraped the blood from beneath the surface of the skin. She shifted her position over his thigh without disengaging her mouth from his prick and kneeled on all fours between his open legs. She reached under his buttocks and cupped them in her palms, pulling his loins up tighter to her face. Her tongue swiped around and around the growing gland furiously until Bob felt it nearing the bursting point as she took almost all of the rigid shaft deep into her throat. He was certain she would choke but she continued the maddening sucking on and on.
Great swirls of heat were building deep, deep in his balls as he watched her face working above his sweating loins. He could see tiny rivulets of sweat rolling in thin droplets from the side of her body as she bucked over him like a demon gone mad. The muscles of his stomach tightened until he thought they would snap from the pressure as he arched his back up off the bed pushing even further between the moistness of her lips. Thin pink ridges of flesh pulled out from her mouth, clinging greedily to his thrusting cock.
He groaned over and over again, his lips working crazily and incoherent mutterings spitting from between his clenched teeth. Suddenly, he gasped. The moment was here and a low, guttural sound started from somewhere deep in his chest as he felt the hot sticky sperm begin its mad dash from the sanctity of his balls and begin spewing in hot thin streams into her sucking mouth. Her cheeks expanded and hollowed fish-like as she greedily swallowed the warm flooding gushes to keep from choking. She went on sucking wildly as he emptied him white-hot sperm into the wetness of her mouth. His hands tangled cruelly in her hair, holding her head to the throbbing of his loins as he pushed his squirting instrument all the way down to her tonsils. She coughed sporadically as she swallowed to regain her breath. He moaned his last and grunted finally in complete fulfillment. Slowly, his cock deflated in her mouth but she continued the gentle sucking, drawing every last tiny drop of the warm sticky sperm from his battered cock.
And then-there was nothing else.
She had sucked him dry and with a groan he collapsed, arms widespread, back across the bed. She nibbled gently at him for awhile, her head resting softly on his thigh and then crawled up over his body to cradle his head against her still heaving breasts. She bent down and kissed him full on the lips.
"Like?" she said softly after a moment.
"Mmmmmm" was all he could muster at that moment, looking up into her eyes with an appreciative gleam.
"I know more."
"Is there such a thing?"
"You can find out on Friday. We're having a party I think you'd like."
"You mean one of those orgy things?"
"Yes, but a nice one," she smiled. "We only have the best of friends."
"My wife's coming home."
"Bring her," Marsha said matter-of-factly. "She might enjoy it."
"Are you crazy?" Bob gasped suddenly, rising to one elbow. "She would blow her stack. Besides," he added as a serious afterthought, "I love her and wouldn't want to get her involved in what I think you have going on here."
"That's selfish. You're getting yours."
"That's different and don't tell me it isn't."
"It isn't. But anyway, you can make me an excuse to get out of the house. Just drive away, park down the block and walk back. It's simple. Besides, you could get twenty more accounts just like Harry's if you got to know these people. They all have more than they know what to do with and as I said, we know only the best of people."
"Twenty," Bob coughed incredulously. "That's a lot of money. More than most account executives bring in ten years."
"That would make you a hero at the bank, wouldn't it, love?" she grinned, reaching over and squeezing his deflated penis with her fingers.
"What's wrong," she cooed over at him, "can't take it again?"
"Not tonight, I've got to go to work in the morning. Also a lot of thinking to do."
"Harry'll change his account tomorrow. You can count on that. But-remember all the others."
"I'll think about it. It'll be tough finding an excuse to get out," he said, rising from the bed and pulling on his clothes. "Do I get another turn at you?"
"Don't rush yourself, lover. You'll have quite a choice and just may want to change your mind when you see some of them, but we'll find time."
"How did you get started in something like this? I just can't understand it."
"Curiosity, I guess. But anyway, it's a long involved story that maybe I'll tell you about some other time. And incidentally, this sort of thing isn't allowed outside the meetings," she grinned, "This is on my own."
"A cheating wife, huh?" he smiled back as he combed his hair out before the mirror.
"Something like that."
"Well, show me out of here. I've got to get some sleep."
Marsha rose and slipped on the thin nylon robe she had torn from her body so hurriedly a few minutes ago, and led him out the door and up the stairs.
A few minutes before, Harry Burns had switched off the TV screens, turned off his tape recorder and gone upstairs to their bedroom. He had a satisfied grin on his face. If he knew women at all, what he had on this tape was going to get sweet little Mrs. Benson flat on her back in a matter of days. He slipped from his clothes and crawled in bed to await the arrival of his wife. She'd better be ready, he smiled, that little session she put the Benson boy through just now had steamed him up until he was ready to explode.
"Goodnight, Bob. That was wonderful. I'm going to expect you to come Friday night."
"Goodnight," he kissed her lightly on the lips, a slight tinge of regret rising in his decision to leave and go home. "If I can make the contacts you say I can, then how can I miss it?"
She closed the door behind him as he hurried down the steps and then walked quickly back to the bedroom.
"Brilliant performance, my dear," Harry clapped from his sitting position in bed. "For a few minutes there I couldn't tell who was screwing who."
"Oh, shut up, Harry. I feel like a damn whore seducing that innocent young boy like that. I hope you got what you wanted."
"Don't kid me girl," he smiled at her from the bed. "I didn't see you fighting it when he was throwing it to you."
"Well, no," she answered thoughtfully. "I thought it would be all for effect, but you know, he wasn't bad to be so inexperienced."
"We'll change that soon. With what I have on that tape, we'll have both of them turned into the best in the neighborhood in no time at all. Did you get a smudge of that lipstick on his shirt?"
"Yes, dear, I did. But good luck with that sweet young wife of his. She doesn't sound like the type who's going to appreciate our kind of arrangement."
"That's the sweet part, love. The harder they are to get, the harder they fall, on their backs that is," he laughed. "Now come on and get in between these sheets. You've got big daddy all steamed up and ready to go."
"Okay," Marsha smiled down at him, pulling the robe from her shoulders for the second time tonight. "I can stand a little dessert."
Carol sat dejectedly on the living room couch staring thoughtfully into a martini glass. Her head whirled from the second one she had drunk since returning from her visit to Jean across the street. She hadn't intended to go over and encourage the friendship, but with the way things had gone between her and Bob since her return from her mother's, she just had to get out of the house and talk to someone. Jean hadn't helped much. All they had done was sip on coffee and cognac the entire hour she was there.
She had become lightheaded from her inexperience in drinking and had started several times to tell her about the strange change that had come over her husband the last few days, but each time had caught herself and stopped. It was too embarrassing. Just how did one go about telling a new friend that she had found lipstick on her husband's shirt when she had sent the clothes to the laundry the other day? Even if she had known Jean for years it would have been difficult enough to confide that much in her but a friend of one week was just impossible. She had felt so low and miserable that she just had to talk to someone though and had put up with the small talk for an hour and then made her excuses to leave. She did find that the cognac had helped to cheer her up, even if only superficially, and had mixed up a pitcher of martinis when she had arrived home to keep the glow going.
Perhaps it had been a mistake, she thought, as she felt them taking hold but she needed it. Damn it, if Bob couldn't take her to his business cocktail parties with him then she could stay home and get smashed. She felt like it tonight and that's just what she was going to do.
She just couldn't understand this party he had to go to. He had been so evasive about it and wouldn't even tell her where it was. He had just told her not to wait up for him and left. Of course, she hadn't made much of a fuss about it. Her pride wouldn't let her. She had not said anything to him about the shirt either. She just didn't know how to go about it after being so happily married to him for the past three years and then all of a sudden, out of nowhere, something like this coming up. It had never happened before and she just hadn't been able to get up the courage to approach him with the evidence. Of course, she had tried to rationalize it away blaming it on everything conceivable such as, he bumped into a girl at the bank, or something like that, but it hadn't worked. The seed of suspicion had been planted and it had festered in her mind for the last two days. There was definitely something wrong but she just couldn't put her finger on it.
There had been other more subtle changes too. He had tried to do some awful things to her last night when they were making love and had tried to make her return them. Things she had heard about but didn't really know normal people did. They were perverted acts and were things people only whispered about in dirty jokes or something like that. He had become angry with her when she had refused to let him do those perverse acts to her and angrier still when she had refused to do them to him. It wasn't that she hadn't tried. God knows she wanted to keep him a happy husband as she thought he always had been but she just couldn't force herself to go through with them. The thought of that horrible scene in the bedroom when he had tried to push her head down under the covers and the coldness with which he had treated her afterwards when she had refused to do it brought tears brimming to her eyes. She wiped them carefully with the corner of the handkerchief she held clenched tightly in her hand and took another heavy gulp of the martini, wincing slightly as it burned its way down her throat.
Still, in spite of all of that, tonight his mysterious party was the crowning blow. She wasn't even really convinced that there was a party. He had been so non-committal and all about it and had murmured some half-way understandable story about it being necessary for his accounts at the bank that she had begun to doubt it. He couldn't even tell her what time he would be home. In fact, he was so vague about the whole thing, that she had convinced herself he was using it just as an excuse to see another woman. The one, undoubtedly, he was out with the other night while she was visiting her mother. There could just be no other explanation. That was what it had to be.
She finished the last drop of the martini and reached forward for the pitcher on the coffee table and poured herself another.
Her mind ran to another thing also that may have caused his sudden indifference but she dismissed it as too silly to even consider. This had been his insistence last Monday that she put off her trip to her mother's for one day and go out to dinner with him and their next-door neighbor's. He had mentioned something about him being one of the most important accounts in the country and how much it had meant to him to make a good impression but she hadn't been able to forget Jean's warning about that man Burns out of her mind. Of course, she hadn't been able to explain that to Bob. He would have thought she was absolutely ridiculous, which was probably true, but still she was frightened of what Jean had said about him. There was no telling what could happen in a closed neighborhood like this if a woman weren't careful and if what Jean said were true, which was highly unlikely, then she was sure the best thing was to just stay as far away from him as possible. She wished she could have made Bob understand this but she couldn't. The only thing she could do was insist that she make the trip to her mother's which wasn't a good excuse at all, but unfortunately, the only one she had.
Well, she murmured to herself, whatever the reason, it still didn't justify that.
Carol dropped her head into her hands and tears began to brim to the corners of her eyes. Things had seemed to be going so well for them with Bob's new job and all and now this had to happen. She just couldn't understand it-why did the world have to be so terrible sometimes? She had to talk to him about it the first thing tomorrow morning or she would go out of her mind.
Her sobs suddenly ceased abruptly. The doorbell was ringing. Good Lord, she thought through the slight daze of the martinis, who could it be at this time of the evening? It must be after eight o'clock. Her next thought was of Bob.
Maybe he had changed his mind!
Maybe he had relented and was coming home to be with her. She pulled the robe she had changed into tight around her breasts and almost ran toward the door.
She jerked it open excitedly, hoping with all her heart to see him standing there. Her smile suddenly faded.
It was Harry Burns.
"Good evening, Mrs. Benson," he bowed slightly, a serious expression on his face. "I'd like to talk to you for a minute if I may. It's very important."
Carol stood struck-dumb for a moment at the sudden surprise and then drew the robe tighter around her.
"C-Can't it wait until tomorrow?" she finally managed to stammer.
"No, it can't. It's something that concerns the both of us - and," he added after a short pause, "your husband and my wife."
"W-What do you mean by that?"
"I mean some things have been going on between them that I think you should know about."
"B-But that's impossible," she stammered, her face flushing at the sudden revelation. The thought of the lipstick shirt pierced her mind like a bolt of lightening.
"I've got the proof right here," he said, holding up the small tape recorder he carried in his hand. "There's just no doubt about it. May I come in for a moment and play it for you? It's something you should hear."
Carol was too shocked by his reference to Bob and his wife to refuse anything and let the door slide unresisting from her hand as he pushed past her into the hallway. She hesitantly closed it behind him and led him into the living room.
A thought suddenly occurred to her. "How did you get that recording?" she asked.
"By accident," he explained. "I have one of these portable briefcase recorders that I use in my business to take down conferences and I left it home Monday night when I had to go away unexpectedly. It activates itself automatically when someone speaks or makes a noise in a room. That avoids the problems of forgetting to turn it on or off."
"Then, please sit down," she motioned nervously to a chair.
"May I have one?" he pointed to the still half full pitcher of martinis sitting on the coffee table.
"Yes, but please hurry with what you have. I do have a lot of work to do," she said, remembering Jean's warning about him. If it hadn't been for the things that had happened the last few days she wouldn't even have let him in the door but now she had to hear him out. She was so confused she didn't know which way to turn.
"I think you had better have one too, Mrs. Benson," he suggested. "What I have on this recorder isn't going to be easy to hear."
"No, I don't need one, Mr. Burns," she said, reflecting as cool a tone in her voice as she could muster under the circumstances. "I don't know what you have, or at least think you have, but I have no reason to doubt the fidelity of my husband in the slightest. Now if you'll just go ahead with what you have to say, I'll show you the door and I can get back to my work."
"Well," he gave a half smile, his eyes falling to a knee that protruded inadvertently from her robe. "I don't really have anything to say. This little baby'll do all the talking."
Harry Burns patted the recorder in his lap and took a deep sip from the martini, letting his eyes wander over the slim, well-rounded body on the couch before him. He could see that something was wrong with her and he was purposely taking his time. He wanted to enjoy to the fullest the final moment when he would switch on the tape and this little innocent, hard-to-get bitch would break into a thousand pieces like a delicate Chinese vase being smashed to the floor. This was his greatest enjoyment in life. He could have all the women he wanted, good women with the money he had. But, to take a proud young thing like this and bend her completely to his will, that was worthwhile. That gave him his kicks, watching their slow subjugation in spite of all the moral values and principles they had built up over the whole of their lives. Seeing all that crumble in one mighty cataclysmic fall when he rammed his hard cock deep between their wide-spread legs, that was a kick that was worth working for and one that couldn't be bought. It might take money to set it up as it had now but it was all worth that one final humiliating lunge into their pussy that they had taken so much pride in protecting all their lives. He would enjoy this one more than most. He could see the contempt she held for him in her eyes and nothing would please him more than watching it changing slowly to a glassy-eyed helpless desire as he ground his cock deep in that white little belly of hers. And, he thought greedily, if he could make her beg for it then so much the better. Yes, he was going to enjoy this one more than he had most. He would make damn certain her husband had a grandstand seat for the de-innocentizing too. That would add a lot to the pleasure of ramming it to her.
"Well Mr. Burns, I'm waiting." Carol mustered her courage. She held an outward calm now by sheer force of will, but deep inside, her stomach was churning like a whirlpool. She just couldn't believe what he had said about Bob and his wife was true, and yet, there was fear in her heart that it was. His strange actions of the last few days told her something was wrong, and yet, she wanted with all her heart and soul for it not to be true.
There was only one way she could find out.
"I suggest you take a martini. It isn't going to be pleasant," he urged again, "I think it might make it easier for you."
"Alright," she weakened for a moment, afraid that if what he had said was right, she just might go to pieces. "Just a small one."
He placed the recorder on the table and poured her glass full in spite of her request for a small one.
"You'll need all of it. This gets pretty rough so take your drink and sit back against the couch. I don't want you falling off."
Carol picked up the drink from the table and nervously took a small sip. She didn't have the slightest idea what to expect from this. Particularly something on a recorder. She held her breath as she watched him lean forward and switch the small machine on.
"I've left out the first part." he explained. "This is what I'm certain you'll be most interested in."
There was nothing for a moment and then she could hear the rustling of people moving around in the background along with the standard hums and buzzes of all recording machines. There was a long moment when there was nothing and then a woman's voice broke through:
"HAVE YOU HAD MANY WOMEN? OTHER THAN YOUR WIFE, I MEAN."
"That's Marsha, my wife." Burns said as he intently watched the expression on Carol's face. "ENOUGH."
The familiar voice of her husband came through the speaker. Carol's heart stopped. Her face turned pale white. There was a pause and then the female voice again followed by Bob's.
"IS YOUR WIFE GOOD IN BED?"
"SHE'S TOO INEXPERIENCED."
Carol sucked in her breath. Her face flushed. Burns reached forward and switched the recorder off. Smiling secretly to himself at her husband's remark about her sexual capability. That should set her off by itself.
"Do you believe me now?" he maintained his indignant attitude.
"Y-Yes, I-I believe they were together. But it still doesn't prove they did anything wrong."
"Take a good strong slug from your drink, girl. You're going to need it."
Carol needed no coaxing this time. She took half the glass in one quick swallow, coughing slightly from the sudden burning in her throat. Burns flipped the switch to on. She could hear the sounds of heavy breathing and movement on a bed and then Marsha Burns voice:
"YOU WANT TO FUCK ME, DON'T YOU?"
YES, GOD YES, I WANT TO."
There was a slight pause in the voices but the breathing became heavier and she could hear a more intense movement on the bed.
"HOW?"
"DEEP, DEEP AND HARD, I WANT TO FUCK YOU LIKE YOU'VE NEVER BEEN FUCKED BEFORE."
Bob's voice came through with a guttural passion she had never heard in their own love-making. She sat thunder-struck. Her face flushing a bright red from the disbelief and humiliation of listening to her own husband making love to another man's wife with that man sitting right in front of her.
"OH, GOD, GET YOUR CLOTHES OFF BEFORE I DIE!"
There was another long delay in the voices as she heard the unmistakable sounds of clothes being torn hurriedly from a body. The shrill sound of a zipper being undone came through loud and clear. And then, the bed squeaked again and the voices returned:
"OOOOH," a low ecstatic groan came from the speaker, "FUCK ME NOW, DARLING, FUCK ME NOW!"
Harry Burns maintained his outward appearance of indignation as he heard his wife moaning in the throes of abandoned intercourse with Carol Benson's husband but an inward sadistic satisfaction coursed through him as he watched the horrified and helpless expressions crossing over the girl's face. He felt his prick jerk slightly under his pants as he saw the robe fall farther away from her knee, unnoticed in her state of shock. A small portion of her exquisitely formed upper thigh was plainly visible as she sat immobile across from him. God, he'd like to grab her now and throw it to her right here on the couch while they listened to her husband screwing his own wife silly on the recorder. But, he knew women well enough by now to know the time wasn't yet ripe. She was still in shock and he had to wait until she had recovered and anger had set in. There was nothing a wronged woman wouldn't do for revenge against an errant husband no matter how moralistic she might be under normal circumstances. He would just bide his time for awhile and make certain she had all the opportunity she needed to build up her temper.
"OOOH! GOD IT'S GOOD, SHOVE YOUR FINGER IN MY ASS! HURT ME! HURT ME!" wife droned on.
"AAAAAAHHHG, GOD, IT HURTS!"
Carol's hands shook almost out of control. She turned the glass up and drained the other half of the martini, attempting to blot out the ugly pictures forming in her mind of her husband grunting and sweating over the woman whose voice moaned from the tape. It didn't help. The pictures formed and faded like dirty movies she had heard described in whispers at cocktail parties she had attended before marriage. She could even feel the rhythm of the two twisting and churning bodies locked together in intercourse on the tape. Their gasps and groans coupled with the slight squeaking of the bed made it all too clear. Other words came through, ugly, obscene words that she had seldom heard spoken before and that she had almost forgotten existed in her innocence and protected existence. She heard the woman's cry of fulfillment coming through the distance from the coffee table and in her immobility made no objection when Harry Burns reached over and filled their glasses again with the mixture in the pitcher. She needed it. Without waiting, she lifted the glass shakily to her lips and sucked the harsh burning gin gratefully down into her throat. She noticed her robe falling away from her thighs and started to pull it down but suddenly forgot about it as the tape was filled with wild groans of excitement.
Bob's groans!
God, what was that woman doing to him? And then she remembered the other night when he had tried to push her head down to his genitals. Could that be it? Would he dare to let another woman do that to him? Would he expect her to do such a disgusting thing to hold him?
A piercing low scream rippled from Bob's throat signaling his obvious climax and Carol flushed again at the crazy thought she found running through her mind. It was stupid at a time like this, but she had found herself wondering if the woman had taken her mouth away or not when Bob had finished. From the soft feminine mewling sounds coming from the recording now she was sure she hadn't.
Harry Burns reached over and flipped the switch turning the recorder off.
"I think that's enough," he said, a forced tone of anger in his voice. "Anyway, it proves my point."
Carol said nothing. She couldn't speak from the shock she had just gone through and just sat there as though in a hypnotic trance.
Harry rose from his chair and walked over to the couch, sitting down beside her. He gently took the glass from her hand to keep her from dropping it and placed it on the table.
"What are we going to do about it?" he said slowly.
"Oh God, God I don't know." Carol blurted out dropping her head into her hands and sobbing like a small child. "I-I just didn't think Bob could ever do a thing like that to me."
Harry watched the whiteness of her smooth, firm, almost completely exposed thighs as she blubbered into her hands next to him. Her robe had snaked almost up to the "V" of her legs now and he could feel small beads of sweat breaking out on his upper lips as he studied the delicious fullness of them. It was all he could do to keep from reaching over and pulling her down right now. Obscene thoughts of how tight her wet little pussy would be shifted through his mind.
But no, he couldn't spoil it now. He had greater plans and no matter how much he would enjoy ramming it up into her soft little belly right this minute, the later pleasure of fucking her silly with her husband looking on would be even greater.
He allowed her a few minutes for the initial emotional reaction to wear off and then poured her another drink. At the same time, he took a clean white handkerchief from his pocket and pushing her head gently up from her hands began to dry her eyes. He did it slowly, not wanting to make any sudden move that would destroy her confidence in his presence. He knew that damn Jean across the street had probably talked to her already about him as she did with anyone she could get to listen so he had to be careful in his approach. He had seen nothing but contempt in her eyes when he had walked in tonight so knew it was going to be a tough row to hoe in gaining her trust. The first step had already worked well, and if things went according to plan, it wouldn't be long now until he had her just where he wanted her.
"I-I guess you think I'm an idiot carrying on this way, Mr. Burns," Carol managed to stutter after a moment.
"No, of course not. No one can blame you for being angry after what you've just heard. I feel the same way."
"I know, but I feel so foolish," she said in a hoarse voice from the crying. "I was so shocked, I didn't even stop to consider how it must be affecting you. After all, it was your wife that he was-was doing it to."
"Yes, it's been quite a shock to me also," he lied. "You can imagine how I felt when I first heard it."
"W-What are you going to do about it?" Carol asked hesitantly, taking a soothing sip from the glass. She could feel her composure returning now that the initial shock had worn off and the drinks were giving her a lightheaded feeling that was slowly turning her humiliation into a slow, seething anger.
"Well, I didn't want to do anything until I talked with you. It's a problem for both of us."
Harry Burns spoke smoothly from the long years of sales experience on the used car lot. His words came easily and quickly and Carol soon found herself nodding in agreement when he spoke. She had forgotten the warnings of Jean now and had passed them off as neighborhood gossip, or perhaps even jealously. Maybe Harry Burns hadn't made a pass at her after all and this was why she was really angry at him.
"You didn't hear the end of that tape," he continued on. "But they've made arrangements to meet at a party at my house tonight. Now if ..."
"Tonight," Carol blurted out in disbelief. "You mean my husband is at the party at your house?"
"That's right, have you seen the cars over there?"
"Why yes I have," Carol said, gritting her teeth with fire rising in her eyes. "But, I didn't associate it with the party Bob said he was going to. He said it was company business."
"Well, my wife throws some pretty wild ones and she thought she'd have a good one while I was off on business. I told her I had to go away when I heard the tape so's you and I could decide what to do."
"I'd like to go to it and just catch them in the act," she said vindictively, feeling the anger begin to boil in her blood.
"Yes, we can do that," Harry said seriously. "Marsha likes to be different with each party she gives and tonight she's made everyone wear masks. I took the liberty of stealing a couple of the type she was going to pass out at the door."
"But won't they notice two more people there?" she asked, doubts suddenly entering her mind.
"Naw, they've got at least thirty people wandering around the house and they'll never notice us. Besides, we've got the basement fixed up into a party room where they'll all be and it's almost pitch black anyway."
"I-I don't know," Carol said hesitantly, "they just might recognize us."
"Not a chance, these masks are the rubber type, you know, the Brink's robbery kind. You couldn't even tell your own mother in one."
Carol took another heavy sip from the drink, the warm liquid burning courage into her bloodstream. She knew this was absolutely crazy, but she just had to see for herself. She still couldn't believe that recording. There must be a mistake somewhere and she just had to know. She loved Bob with all her heart and just couldn't accuse him of such a thing without absolute proof.
"Alright, I'll do it. But it'll take me a few minutes to get dressed."
"Well go to it. I'm as anxious as you are to see what's going on. But, one thing I should warn you about." He looked at her and spoke with a sincerity that made her feel grateful to him for the warning. "These things get rough. Dirty movies and all. Do you think you can take it without giving us away? They can't under any circumstances know we've been there. It might start a row and none of us can stand the scandal."
The martinis and the anger coursing through her body made Carol throw caution to the winds even though something deep inside whispered to her that this was a dangerous thing to do. She knew she shouldn't but then the thought of the lewd voices wrapped in the throes of passion on the tape flickered across her mind again.
"I can take it," she said with a forced smile. "Give me a minute to get my dress on. I bought a new one Tuesday in St. Louis, Bob has never seen it."
"Here," Harry smiled, pulling a rubbery mask from his pocket and handing it to her. "This is your spy suit."
"I'll hurry, pour yourself another drink, Harry. If I may call you that?" she added quickly.
"Be my guest, Carol," he smiled.
He watched her walk from the room, pulling the light filmy robe about her body. A thin secret smile of triumph played across his lips as he studied her soft sensuous buttocks moving away from him.
Man, he whistled quietly to himself, what a ball you're going to have cradling those two little soft white babies in your hands tonight.
Marsha pressed her thigh tightly against Bob's at the bar in the "Playpen" as they watched the straight-laced waiter pouring the guests large drinks of the thick green Pernod. Bob mused at the sudden change of color from the medium green to a thick milky-white when lie added the water to it. Like a lot of us, he thought dryly to himself, changes color with the slightest provocation.
"Impressed with the crowd?" she interrupted Bob's thoughts with an extra hard pressure against the side of his thigh.
"If all these people under the masks are who you say they are then you're right about traveling in the best of company."
"Believe me, they are, but don't you dare let on you know I've told you who some of them are. That's breaking the rules for the first part of the evening. You're not supposed to have the slightest idea who you are ending up with until it's all over."
"Well, from what I've seen so far, I don't think I can go wrong no matter who I grab. I'm just glad these masks don't cover the most important part of the package."
"I think you'll find they're quite talented underneath too." she laughed.
"Not too talented, I hope. I don't know if I can stand another lesson like I received from a certain neighbor the other night."
"Mmmm," she reached over and pressed his hand. "Wish I could continue that lesson right now but hostess duties call. I've got to circulate and make certain everything's all right with the guests. You be a good boy and help by making a little polite conversation with a gal I'm going to send over. I would suggest doing it right too, her husband is loaded and it could be a very, very good account."
"Send her around, I think I can handle anything now," he smiled at her through the oval shaped opening in the thin flesh-like mask.
Bob watched her disappear into the small crowd standing in groups around the room. There couldn't have been over twenty or twenty-five people but with the dim purple light it looked like more. They almost filled the center of the chamber and gave it a close warm look that allayed his earlier fears of not fitting into something like this. He raised his glass to his lips feeling the now familiar taste of the absinthe drain cool and clear into his throat. His mouth was still a little dry from his earlier nervousness and the drink was just what he needed.
He couldn't help but feel a little cocky as he gazed around the dimly lit room and compared his own well conditioned body to most of those present. Though he couldn't see their faces he could tell by the slight paunches extending over the men's belts that they were all in the early middle-age stage. It contrasted noticeably with their women. They were for the most part much younger and in much better condition than their husbands. Evidently, they had all chosen well, much as Harry Burns had done. Money, he smiled to himself, can buy anything, even love. Perhaps it wasn't always the truest kind in the romantic sense but it was close enough to the real thing not to matter that much. Love was only a matter of feeling secure anyway. What better way for a young girl to feel secure than with a million dollar bank account?
In the last few days he had just begun to understand this. Old Jordan had called him into the office Tuesday and informed him that he had gotten the Burns account. It had been a simple statement on his part but Bob could feel for the first time since he had come to work for the bank a sudden new-found respect the last few days, on the part of not only Jordan but his co-workers as well. Suddenly, they all knew who he was and people were greeting him in the mornings in the office that had never spoken to him before. Yes, success did help and by God, this slight taste of it he had just experienced had just whetted his appetite for more. He had heard all his life that it took more than just brains and business ability to get along in the financial world and it looked as though, thanks to Marsha, he had found out what the "more than" was. If he could wangle a few more accounts like this one from her husband, he would be on easy street with the bank for the rest of his career. It shouldn't take long and if he just watched himself carefully he could do it without Carol ever finding out about what he had to do to make it.
"Hello," he heard a soft honeyed voice purr next to him. "Someone let my glass run dry."
"Well, we can't let that happen, now can we," Bob smiled down through the mask at the girl who leaned against the bar where Marsha had been a few minutes before. He couldn't tell what her face looked like but it didn't really matter. From the neck down was all he needed to see. She had all it took and the tight knit mini-dress hid little of it. The girl sensed his eyes roaming over her body in the dim light and turned slightly to the side so that he got a quick glimpse of the profile of the most beautiful pair of breasts he had ever seen. Carol had a nice set, he had to admit, but if there was ever a pair that might compete with them they were standing out right in front of him.
"Our hostess says I'm to look after you for awhile," she said in the soft mellow voice that reminded Bob a little of Lauren Bacall. But there the resemblance ended. This girl was built, smallish, but she was built.
"Under normal circumstances I would tell the hostess that I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself," he grinned, "but I doubt seriously if I could have improved any on her choice this time."
"Glad you approve," the girl smiled. "My name's Susan, what's yours?"
"Bob," he said, purposely omitting the last name as he noticed she had done.
"That's nice," she smiled again, "It sounds so substantial. I don't like all the Rocks, Tabs, and so on people are naming their children these days, sounds as though they'll blow away tomorrow."
"They will, don't worry. Here, have your drink. It's all refreshed."
"Good, come on over and meet some of the other people. I want to show you off even if I can't see all of you yet."
"Let's go," he said, taking the hand she offered and following her off toward a small group on the other side of the room. This was the chance he had been waiting for. Marsha had said she would make certain he got the biggest ones first and it looked as though he was going to enjoy more than just landing this account. He felt slightly guilty for a moment when he thought of Carol sitting quietly at home while he played like this, but then he had no other choice, not if they were to stay on this side of the tracks and meet all the expenses his new job entailed.
Carol followed close behind Harry Bums as they descended the steps down into the basement. She felt kind of silly with the rubber mask covering her face but then again was grateful for the anonymity it afforded her. The thin rubbery material covered the whole of her facial features and she had put her hair back in a long golden pony-tail which was an unusual style for her. This, coupled with the new dress she was wearing, should make it impossible for Bob or anyone else to recognize her. Harry had been right about the effect. She doubted sincerely if even her mother would have known her at this minute.
In spite of the light-headed feeling the martinis had left her with, she could still feel a small knot of fear growing in her stomach. There was still no way of knowing if this were some kind of trick on the part of Harry Burns just to get her over here but she had to see for herself. The lipstick on Bob's shirt, plus the recording, were just too much evidence against him and if he were here it would take all the will-power she had not to turn loose on him and begin berating right in front of all the other guests. At any rate, she thought, as she walked alongside Harry Burns down the corridor, it's too late now. You've made a bargain with him to see if there really is anything going on between his wife and Bob so you'll just have to stick it out no matter how bad it becomes.
"Remember now," Harry whispered over to her as they entered the large circular room. "Don't go ogling at people right away to try and find him, we have a long time and don't want to give ourselves away."
"Alright, I won't," she whispered back in promise, her heart beating a mile a minute as they walked toward the circular bar along the left wall.
Carol was amazed just as Bob had been when he had first walked into the chamber and her first thought was to turn back toward the door and run but the horrible thought of Bob possibly being here strengthened her resolve to stick it out no matter how rough it might become. She just had to know for her own personal satisfaction if he was playing her for the fool. What she would do when she found out, she could decide then, but right now she just had to know if it were true.
"What on earth kind of a party is this?" she whispered to Harry as they found a place at the crowded bar.
"It's a friendly little get together where people drink a lot and forget their troubles." He answered back in a low voice, motioning to the bartender with two fingers at the same time. "They show stag films and things like that to get everyone nice and friendly. Ever seen one?"
"N-No I haven't," she whispered back, her voice cracking slightly. "A-Are they too bad?"
"Depends on what you call bad," he chuckled softly, handing her one of the drinks the bartender placed in front of him. "They get one nice and heated up if you like that sort of thing."
Carol was more than glad she had the mask now as she could feel herself blushing at his candid answer to her question.
"And remember," he added. "I warned you it could get rough so just stay with me and don't get panicked when they start the fun and games. We've got to look like we're enjoying each other like everyone else so no one will get suspicious."
She watched him raise the glass to his lips and take a deep swallow and did the same, glad to have something in her hand to stop her from shaking. She was surprised at the first taste of the cool licorice bubbling smoothly down her throat. She had expected something that tasted much stronger to be served at a party like this. She tipped the glass again, her throat parched from her nervousness and the number of martinis she had drunk at home with Harry while they had been listening to that horrible recording.
"Hey," Harry warned, keeping his voice down. "You're really going at it."
"Mmmm," she mumbled with a full mouth, "It's good. What is it?"
"Just a light drink," he lied with a slight twinkle in his eye. "But be careful, I don't want you to get too out of it. We've got some investigating to do. Guess these won't hurt though. Here give me your glass, you finished that one like you really needed it."
Carol passed her glass over to him, feeling the slight lightheadedness she had had from the martinis returning. It had almost worn off with her taking time out to dress and from the walk over here but now she could feel it slowly taking control of her body again. Except ... this time it seemed to be different. This drink didn't have the dull slowing effect the martinis seemed to have. The glow was there, but otherwise, it didn't seem to dull her thinking at all. She liked it and sipped heavily again as Harry Burns passed her a new drink. A strange giddiness seemed to pervade throughout her whole body as she turned from the bar and looked around the room. She had to squint her eyes to see any distance because of the dimness of the light but still, she could make out with reasonable clarity, the small groups of threes and fours scattered around the floor in idle conversation. She strained to see if she could find Bob in any of the groups, but with the light the way it was, it was almost impossible.
"How on earth are we ever going to see if my husband is here if we stay at the bar?" She turned to Harry and whispered impatiently in a low tone.
"Don't you worry," he reached over and patted her arm, warmly this time. "We'll run into him sooner or later. We've just got to let nature take its course now. So just relax baby, and let's have a few more of these to get us in a good fighting mood.
Carol shivered slightly from the sudden change of tone in his voice and the boldness of his touch. Before, he had been almost defensive in his conversation with her, the hurt voice of a wronged husband, but now suddenly it had changed in a matter of a few moments. She detected a certain confidence that suddenly frightened her and for some reason made her feel more alone than she had ever felt in her entire life. She turned to her glass again for the warmth it had given before and almost hoped now that Bob would be here to save her if she had gotten in over her head. Jean's warning about Burns going to any length to get her in bed flickered through her mind again for a brief moment, but again, she pushed the thought away. He had to be sincere, with the recording and all, there could just be no mistake about Bob's infidelity to her.
She was just raising her glass to her lips again when she felt a slight pressure on her side away from Harry Burns. She turned to find someone pushing against her trying to get at the bar and moved a little toward Harry to give him room.
"Give me two more," a voice behind the mask said. Carol froze.
It was Bob's voice. After three years of marriage she would recognize it under any circumstances. Harry sensed her sudden tensing and slipped his arm around her waist pulling her into him. She made no move to resist. The shock of hearing Bob's voice in this place had made her totally incapable of resistance. She felt the softness of her breasts crushed tightly against Harry's chest.
"What's wrong?" he whispered close in her ear.
"Shhhh," was all she could manage. Bob was so close to her that she was afraid he could hear them whispering back and forth to each other. She stood immobile for what seemed an eternity, allowing the softness of her body to be squeezed tightly into Harry Burns' chest. She didn't dare breath until the moment long minutes later when her husband picked up the drinks the bartender brought and carried them back across the room. She watched him out of the corner of her eye handing one to a small blonde girl who snaked her arm around his waist in a familiar gesture. She couldn't believe her eyes when she saw Bob reciprocate, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close against him.
Tiny droplets of tears brimmed into the corners of her eyes as she stared across the dim room, seeing for the first time with her own eyes, her husband holding another woman. She was hardly conscious of Harry Burns speaking next to her.
"Was that him?"
"Y-Yes, damn him," she managed after a short pause.
Harry pulled his handkerchief from his pocket for the second time that evening and dabbed gently at the corners of her eyes.
"You'll smear your make-up."
"I don't care," she replied. "I've never felt so humiliated and hurt in my whole life."
"You'd better care," Harry said, a harsh tone in his voice. "Remember, we've got a bargain. We've got to catch them in the act."
Carol took the handkerchief from his hand and continued dabbing her eyes.
"Give me another drink, please." she said simply. "I think I need a few."
"That's a good girl," Harry smiled down at her, pushing their glasses across the bar. "Now you're talking."
He reached over and curled his arm around her waist, pulling her close back to him. Carol let herself fall limply against him, all fight taken from her. She had come here with the faint hope that somehow there had been a mistake with the recording, but there hadn't been. He had been lying to her all along about the business party tonight and had just used it as an excuse to get away and cheat on her. Well, she would see just how far this thing would go. If he could have his fun, so could she. She could hurt him just as much as he could her and if she had to step out of line to do it then, damn it, she would. She pulled heavily against the drink Harry handed her, feeling the soothing liquid coursing through her blood like a sedative. The hurt and humiliation were gradually fading with the smooth lightheadedness the drink was bringing on. A slow burning anger seethed inside her, blotting away the tears that had formed from the shock she had just been subjected to.
Harry had slipped his hand up her side and cupped it warmly just beneath her breast. He could see the slow change coming over her as the Pernod began its gradual conscience-killing effect. He knew it wouldn't be long now before this little bird was his. She had received her second shock of the evening and in a little while she would get the final killing jolt that would knock out any resistance she had left. He knew Marsha would do her part well.
"Let's grab our place for the movie that's comin' up, sweetie. We don't want to be left out."
Carol followed behind him as he guided her with his arm around her waist along the side of the room to the circular couch that lined the wall. He sat down, pulling her down alongside him. She had to almost crawl over the seat. It was so wide that when they were leaning back against the deep soft back cushion just their feet were hanging over the edge. About every four feet was a thick arm rest separating the seats from each other. She had difficulty making it without spilling her drink but Harry took it from her hand and she settled back comfortably with him. He handed her her drink back and curled his arm behind her, pulling her over tight against him.
"More like a bed, isn't it?" he laughed softly.
"Yes," she answered without feeling. "How long do we have to wait here?"
"Just a minute. The others are taking their seats now."
She strained her eyes through the semi-darkness again and could see the small group Bob and the blonde girl had been standing with breaking up into pairs and walking toward the couches. She watched angrily as she could see him guiding the girl toward a place several seats down from where she and Harry sat. Just as they were ready to sit another woman approached them and said a few words in a whisper she could not hear. Bob left the blonde with a shrug of his shoulders and followed her over toward Carol and Harry. Carol held her breath, afraid to breathe as they sat down on the section right next to them on her side.
Harry smiled quietly to himself. Marsha was doing her job well, he thought, and he could hardly wait to see Carol's reaction when the action really started.
"They're right next to me." She turned and breathed almost inaudibly in his ear. "What'll we do?"
"Just keep quiet." he whispered back. "But we've got to really look like we're lovin' it up so we don't bring attention to ourselves."
"W-What do we have to do?" she whispered in alarm. She hadn't expected things to have gone this far even though in her anger she had had some rash thoughts earlier. She could never in her life let another man do anything to her no matter how angry she became at Bob. It just wouldn't be right.
"Nothing so bad," Harry assured, "just enough cuddling to make them think we're part of the party. If they find out now, we're both cooked, so just don't go fighting me off if I make it look like I'm getting hot pants."
"Y-You don't have to talk like that," she objected into his ear, feeling again the numbing fear rising in her body. What if he did do something now? With Bob here she couldn't do a thing about it. If she made the slightest unusual sound he would know it was his wife next to him. She just couldn't let him recognize her under these circumstances even if he were doing the same thing right next to her. A woman could forgive a man for indiscretion but a man could never forgive a woman no matter how unfair it was. Wild thoughts of jumping up and running raced through her mind. He would think it were just another of the women here getting sick or something but the tightness of Harry Burns arm kept her pressed hard back into the cushion. She would just have to wait it out until a chance came when the movie was over.
"Ohhh, I like you touching my nipple like that," she heard Marsha Burns' voice drift hoarsely over from next to her. Her face flushed in anger beneath the mask and she couldn't help turning her head slightly and see what they were doing out of the corner of her eye.
To her amazed horror, Bob had his hand inserted down in the front of the woman's dress and was massaging her breasts. She had her head back on his shoulder with her mouth slightly open, a rapturous expression on her face.
"Your husband's quite a lover," Burns whispered contemptuously in her ear.
"How could he?" She said clenching her teeth, her voice rising in anger.
Harry Burns jerked her head abruptly toward him with his hand and pressed his lips wetly to her grinding his mouth tightly to hers. She groaned and struggled limply for a sudden panicky moment, feeling his hand pressed hard into the softness of her breast.
"Shhh," he whispered into her mouth. "They heard you. Relax. We have to make it look good."
She let herself go limp as he commanded, surprised at the softness of his lips pressing into her mouth. The thought crossed her mind that it was the first time another man had kissed her since she had been married. She had almost forgotten what it was like and had to admit to herself that he did know what he was doing. In spite of her guard being up against letting any emotion overcome her, she could feel tiny butterfly like sensations flit suddenly through her stomach.
"There," he said, whispering into her ear, "Don't say anything else. You'll give us away."
Carol lifted her glass to her lips and drained it, desperately trying to collect her confused thoughts. She had never thought another man kissing her could do this to her, particularly with her husband sitting not more than three feet away. But before she could pursue the thought further the large white screen flickered to life in front of them.
The waiter was making the rounds, passing out fresh drinks to the couples stretched out on the couches and Carol pressed hers greedily to her lips as she glued her eyes to the screen.
She was afraid to look over at Bob and Harry's wife for fear of what she would see. The soft mewling sounds coming from her lips and the grating noise of his heavy, deep breathing told the story well enough. She could see through the dim light the vague shapes of other couples wrapped in tight embraces around the room. No one seemed to be paying any attention whatsoever to anyone else.
Her eyes glanced back to the screen just as the title, "THE TUTOR" came on in large letters in color. She had never seen one of these movies before though she had heard a great deal about them and didn't have the vaguest idea what to expect. She had a slight tinge of doubt in her mind about whether or not she could sit through it if it was as awful as she had heard they were, but in another sense she was grateful for it. It took her mind momentarily off the entwined bodies of her husband and her neighbor's wife next to her.
Harry Burns pulled her close to him, letting his hand dangle gently over her shoulder. His fingers brushed softly against the tip of her breast. He was growing more confident by the second and lewd, obscene thoughts of the things he would do to this young soft body once it had reached the stage of helpless submission ran in delicious kaleidoscopic pictures through his mind. Man, he grinned secretly to himself, he would turn her every way but up and then maybe that way too. She'd know she had been fucked when he finished with her, that was sure.
On the screen a man sat looking at a book. At first glance, it appeared as though he were reading it but the angle of the camera turned and it could be seen that he had photographs secreted between the pages. His eyes gleamed as he studied them and the camera came in for a close-up showing the rounded lips of a woman enclosed over a hard rigid cock. Her eyes were tightly closed in obvious rapture over the task she was performing.
Harry felt his young neighbor jump slightly from the sudden unexpected scene but he held her tighter, pressing his hand harder against the softness of her breast.
The man started to turn the page, but suddenly turned toward the door. Someone was knocking. He closed the book and went to the door, opening it and letting in a young blonde schoolgirl of about eighteen. She was dressed in a Catholic girls' school uniform and carried a set o f books cradled in her arms. He showed her to the table and gave her the seat across from him. She sat down and shyly opened her book to the page he indicated and he gave her an assignment. There was no sound but the actions of the two indicated clearly what they were doing. The man left the room and the girl began studying her assignment. After a few moments, she reached over and took her tutor's book to check something. She opened it to the pages where he had the pictures secreted and the camera showed a sudden shocked expression cross over her face. It was apparent that her first reaction was to close the book and slide it back across the table but her curiosity overcame her fear of being discovered by the tutor. She began to slowly shuffle through the packet of pictures. A close-up showed the various positions of intercourse the subjects in the pictures were in. The camera switched to the girl's face, showing the wide-eyed amazement in her expressions. As the camera remained focused on her face, a slow change could be seen coming over her. Her emotions gradually changed from one of amazement to one of open mouthed excitement. The effect the pictures were having on her were apparent as the audience could see her eyes slowly dilate and the unmistakable smoky haze of passion flicker through them. She began breathing hard and the camera dropped to the floor under the table. It was positioned so that it looked straight up between her legs. She had pulled her skirt up slightly and had inserted her finger under the leg band of her white nylon panties. She was stroking softly the narrow moist slit of her vagina. It could be seen glistening wetly between her open legs as she suddenly shoved her finger deep in the tight little pussy and began fingering herself in time to her excited breathing.
Carol held her breath, as she watched the scenes taking place on the screen. She had never in her life seen anything like it and again was grateful for the protective covering of the mask over her face. It all looked so real and true to life she couldn't believe it and through the lightheaded intoxicating haze of the Pernod, which all of a sudden seemed to be hitting her with greater force. She could feel her own body twitch in sympathy with the girl on the screen and pressed her thighs tight together to cut off the slight tingle that had started in her belly and worked its way down slowly to the sensuous point between her legs. Harry pressed harder into the softness of her breast and she made no move to resist as she could feel the tiny bud-like nipple harden under the thinness of her brassiere. She knew she would have to stop him soon before things ran away with them but she would wait for a moment until the delicious tingle between her legs subsided.
A sudden look of horror came on the girls face on the screen. The tutor had suddenly opened the door and caught her fingering herself with the pictures in front of her. He grabbed her roughly by the arm and marched her over to the couch in the corner where he pulled her down across his knees. Her legs kicked wildly behind her as he lifted her skirt up over the soft round globes of her buttocks and began spanking her through the panties with the palm of his hand. The girl kicked and screamed under the harsh pounding of the tutor, her scantily covered little buttocks quivering piteously before each cruel blow.
The camera showed a close-up of his face where a cruel glint shone brightly in his eyes. The camera switched to her buttocks again where he began drawing the flimsy white panties down over their delicious firm roundness. Angry red welts stood out on them from the spanking he had just given her. Tears of pain ran in streams from her sobbing eyes as she felt the soft nylon being drawn slowly over her buttocks and across her thighs. Her face turned toward him with a pleading expression, tears streaming from her eyes. She was begging him to stop. He pushed her from his lap to the floor and walked over to the table and picked up the packet of dirty pictures. He pulled several of them from it and returned to the prostrate young girl who had struggled to her knees. He held several of the photographs, with the more sadistic positions, in front of her face talking threateningly to her all the time. The poor, fear-struck girl kneeled in front of him nodding her head in agreement. Obviously, he was threatening to turn her in to the Mother Superior if she didn't follow his demands as outlined in the pictures. Quaking with fear, she rose to her feet and began stripping the clothing from her young budding body. The man with an evil grin on his face did the same. His pants fell to the floor quickly and his big, rigid penis could be seen standing out in front of him like the thick stump of a tree. He obviously had been chosen for the part because of this special endowment that appeared at least seven inches in length. The girl finished dropping her panties to the floor and stood before the grinning man completely naked, her arms crossed futilely over her well-developed, firm, young breasts. The hair covering the mound at the base of her white little belly was soft and sparse and the tiny folds of flesh covering the narrow slit of her vagina were plainly visible. The man gleefully made her sit down on the front edge of the cushion of a big easy chair and drape her legs up and out over either arm. He knelt down between her wide spread thighs with the camera zeroing in for a close-up of her pussy just over the top of his head. He reached forward placing one thumb on either side of the narrow hair-lined slit and spread the tender lips slowly apart exposing the moist pink flesh surrounding her tiny tight cunt. The camera zoomed in closer and her tiny clitoris could be seen throbbing gently in the air just above the tight elastic cuntal opening.
Carol hardly dared to breathe. The Pernod had turned her body into a loose bundle of raw nerve ends that her mind could no longer control. She could not believe what she was seeing on the screen in front of her or the feelings it was causing to course through her flesh in tiny licking flames of desire. Harry Burns had pulled her so close against him now she could hardly move and during the excitement of the young girl undressing, inserted his hand down the vee of her neck and cupped a naked breast. She could feel small pin pricks of delicious feeling racing through the tips of them as he rolled the tiny hardening nipples maddeningly between his thumb and forefinger. She could feel the heat of his breath rushing against her ear as he turned his head toward her and locked his lips wetly against hers. She tried for a moment to twist away but the pressure of his mouth was too much for her in her present state.
"Cooperate, they're looking toward us," he breathed into her mouth.
She had almost forgotten about Bob and Harry's wife in her concentration on the movie and let herself relax gently against him. She had to make it look good, she rationalized through the haze of the Pernod. Bob must never find out she was here. He would kill her, but she laughed secretly, he deserved everything she was doing. It gave her a secret sense of power to be lying here in someone else's arms with his hands bringing delicious sensations from her throbbing breasts while her husband lay a few feet away doing the same thing to another woman and not even knowing she was here.
Perhaps, she mused dreamily through the wonderful sensation the absinthe covered her with, she had been missing something in turning down all those passes she received when she had been working to help support them. She thrust her tongue back sharply at Harry Burns as he sucked it deep into the wetness of his mouth. He really knew how to kiss. Bob, in all the time they had been married had never kissed her with such wild animal abandon and passion and she squirmed hard down into the seat. All the hurt and humiliation she had felt before were gone and the Pernod had tempered her anger so that all she felt now was a relaxed justification for being here. She had just as much right as Bob did in enjoying something like this. As long as, of course, it didn't go too far and Harry did seem like such a gentleman. He had been looking after her interest all evening and she was grateful to him for being so considerate. He wasn't at all the way Jean had described him that first morning she had come over. Admitted, he was a bit crude in his language and appearance but this didn't matter, they were both sharing this sordid secret of the affair between his wife and her husband which was a very strong bond between two people.
Harry withdrew his lips from hers and looked back toward the screen.
"God damn, look at that," he turned and whispered heavily into her ear, his hand tightening harder on her breast.
She turned her head slightly and caught the view of the screen just as the man's head moved forward toward the moist pink slit he was parting with his fingers. There was a profile view now of his face and the girl's vagina with the tiny reddish clitoris still quivering from her obvious excitement. The man's tongue snaked out and the tip swiped across the throbbing flesh sending the tiny bud into a jerking hardness that brought groans of delight from those watching in the room. He teased it wetly for a moment with his tongue and then began running it up and down the full length of the widely spread slit bringing contorted expressions of joy to the girl's face that could now be seen in the camera.
Carol could feel a sudden twitch between her own legs and again pressed them tightly together to try and stop the maddening sensation.
The girl wrapped her hands into the man's thick black head of hair and the muscles in her arms stood out tight and strained as she pulled his face forward with all her strength into the moist wetness of her loins. Her hips began a slow hard grinding up against his face as he sunk his tongue with a sudden lizard-like thrust deep into the tightness of her clasping pussy. She now was a raw quivering mass of desire and writhed and twisted like a slow moving belly dancer under the man's hot probing tongue.
There was a groan next to her and Carol wanted to look but she didn't dare.
"Marsha's sucking him," Harry whispered with heavy breath.
She turned slightly, unable to stop herself and got a sudden clear view through the darkness of Harry's wife's head working up and down over her husband's loins, her lips clasped tightly in an oval circle around his erect penis. It stood hard and rigid through the open zipper of his fly, slight tufts of pubic hair protruding around the edge of the thick base.
"Oh God," Carol moaned, turning back to Burns and hiding her face tightly into his shoulder. "They're doing something awful."
She hadn't expected this. Kissing, yes. But not this right out in front of everyone else. Again, small tears brimmed through her eyes. She thought a moment ago she had herself in control and that she could handle herself under any circumstances but now she found she couldn't. The awful sight of his penis disappearing into Harry's wife's hungry, sucking mouth was just too much for anyone to stand. The sounds coming from next to her were just like the recording, wet sucking noises punctuated intermittently by small mewls and groans of totally absorbed pleasure. She could hear other like sounds coming from around the room too as other couples, overcome by the ravishment of the young girl on the screen, locked themselves together in various forms of sexual connection. She burrowed her head tightly into Harry's shoulder to try and shut the sounds away but it did not help, they were everywhere, coming at her from all sides. Again, she wanted to run but knew her legs would not support her if she rose from the couch. She could do nothing but lie here in Harry Burns arms and listen in torment while his wife made love to her husband. She turned her face back to the screen hoping it would drive his groans of pleasure away from her ears.
The man had risen from the floor now and climbed up on the soft cushioned arms of the chair. He was kneeling in front of the girl's face with his knees straddling her body on both sides. His giant rigid cock stood out in the air like a huge fleshy monster. He had his hand around it, rubbing the wet lubricated head softly against her tightly clenched lips. It was apparent she didn't want to open them but he reached forward with his other hand and pinched her nostrils tightly together. She fought for a moment moving her head from side to side in desperation until with a sudden gasp for air her mouth opened wide. The man flicked his hips forward sliding the huge blood-filled head deep within the confines of her tender lips. Again she fought but he tangled his hands cruelly into her hair and forced her to begin a gentle sucking motion. Her lips hollowed and expanded with each stroke he made into her mouth. Tiny ridges of soft pink flesh could be seen pulling from her ovaled lips as he drew back, and then disappeared back inside as he slid it gently forward again. He began a rhythmic sawing, back and forth, never quite drawing it out all the way but leaving the tip just inside the warm moistness of her mouth. After a moment, the girl seemed to warm to her task and reached up between his wide spread thighs and cradled the softness of his testicles in her palms. She stroked them gently as she sucked voraciously at his thrusting cock above. From the profile it appeared as a thick wet glistening piston of flesh moving methodically in and out of her hungrily-nibbling lips.
Another deep animal-like groan erupted beside Carol jerking her attention from the screen.
Harry's wife had lifted her dress up over her hips and crawled up Bob's body. She obviously had worn no panties as Carol had not heard the tell tale noise of clothing being removed. She was straddling him, the round whiteness of her buttocks poised directly over the hardness of his long thin cock. She was reaching back underneath her body with her hand and guiding him into her. Carol held her breath as she saw the red bulbous head of her husband's prick make contact with the moist open flanges of Marsha's cunt. She moved it up and down in the moist glistening slit for a moment, parting the soft pubic hair, and then with a slight "oooomph," ground her buttocks hard down on it.
Carol's eyes were wide in hypnotized disbelief as she watched Bob's throbbing cock slide slowly up into the wet clasping lips of Harry's wife's cunt, making a wet sluicing noise as it entered. She ground down on it all the way until all Carol could see was a small tiny bit of the base of his cock protruding from the tight moist lips surrounding it. She knew she should scream and reach out and tear them apart but the tranquilizing effect of the Pernod and the tightness of Harry's arms holding her to the couch would not permit it. Instead, she lay frozen in immobility and watched helplessly as Marsha began a slow grinding up and down movement with her buttocks rising in the air above Bob until just the tip of his rock-hard cock was left just inside the warm enclosing sheath of her flesh. Then, with an "oooomph" each time she made the movement, she dropped heavily back down on him, impaling herself completely with each long smooth stroke.
Carol turned her head away again, a tight restrictive feeling digging deep in her belly. She had never imagined what it would be like watching two people making love, particularly her own husband, and found it affected her in a way she had never dreamed. Instead of the absolute revulsion she had expected, she could feel a strange light-fingered quivering deep between her thighs. She closed her eyes and pressed her face back tightly into Harry's shoulder but still the vision of Bob's cock, wet and glistening, skewering into the moist softness of Marsha's vagina raced through her mind. She clenched her eyes tight but could not blot out the lewd inciting picture. Their soft moans and the wet sucking noises of intercourse drifted across to her ears magnifying the obscene image a thousand times.
Harry's hand ground harder into her breast as he too suddenly became aware of the wet coupling of the two bodies next to them. He gave a sudden hard pinch against the soft rubbery nipple sending a flash of pain and pleasure shooting down the full length of her spine. She uttered a low helpless groan into his ear which was quickly choked off by the harsh pressure of his wet lips clamping over hers. His tongue flicked moistly into her mouth causing her body to squirm again down against the seat in an attempt to stem the flowing tide of passion creeping over her.
"He's fucking my wife," he breathed into her mouth. "Did you see them?"
"Y-Yes," she mumbled back, the lewd word strangely exciting her.
"I believe in an eye for an eye," he whispered roughly and pulling her on her side so that they were facing each other. He ground his pelvis tightly into hers sliding his hand down to the soft roundness of her buttocks and pulling her loins tight into his.
"Oh, no, God no, we can't, we can't," she whimpered into the wetness of his mouth trying to keep her voice as low as possible. She tried to squirm away from him but his strength was too great and she only succeeded in worsening her position. She didn't dare struggle too much for fear of bringing attention to them. Bob mustn't find out she was here, he just mustn't. He would never forgive her and it would destroy all chances of working something out between them when she confronted him with the fact that she knew he was having an affair with their neighbor's wife.
"Why not, your husband's fucking my wife? I'm just going to even the score and fuck his wife, by God." He whispered as though he meant it.
"Oh! Please don't do it to me," she pleaded, tears again bubbling to her eyes. He had her in a position where she couldn't fight back and he knew it. If she resisted too strongly then Bob would certainly hear and all their chances of any future happiness would be ruined forever. Oh, why hadn't she listened to Jean and not let her curiosity run away with her? Why hadn't she been satisfied with the evidence from the tape recorder?
Her body stiffened as she felt Harry begin massaging the soft white cheeks of her buttocks from behind and pulling her loins harder against his. As he ground against her, his mouth still locked wetly to hers, she gasped and held her breath feeling the rising hardness under his pants pressing into her own moistening genitals. The sweet licorice taste of the Pernod wafted lazily through her bloodstream intensifying the sudden uncontrolled sensations beginning to course through her against her will. She clenched her eyes tightly shut fighting against it with all her strength, but the soft fingers of his hand nipping teasingly against her nipple and the hardness of his penis grinding into her crotch, brought further soft moans of helpless submission to her lips. Her very helplessness and the thought of her husband making love to another woman not more than a few feet away were too much for the tortured girl's mind.
"God, you're built, baby. I'm going to enjoy this little swap."
"Oh, don't, please don't," she whimpered as she felt the lewd delicious feelings still rippling across the surface of her skin. "N-No one but my husband has ever done it to me before."
"Always a first time for everything, chicken." He laughed softly, dropping his hand down between their tightly merged bodies to the flatness of her belly.
"Oh, don't touch me there, please don't." She sobbed, still conscious of Bob's groans of wild abandoned passion next to them. Her body jerked slightly as she felt Harry's fingers hooking and sliding the material of her dress up the front of her thighs. She moaned and tried again to pull away using all her willpower to overcome the strange sensations building up still against her will deep in the pit of her stomach.
"Baby, I'm gonna fuck you and fuck you good. That'll teach that husband of yours to keep his prick in his pants around my wife," Harry grinned triumphantly to himself. "You ain't ever gonna be happy with what you're gettin' at home again."
Carol gasped and held her breath as she felt the hem of her dress reach the top of her thighs and his fingers suddenly coming into hot searing contact with the softness of her naked flesh. An electrifying shock rippled along the flesh of her legs as she felt him slipping a finger slowly under the tight elastic leg band of her panties. She squirmed back a little, whimpering helplessly, as the tip found the narrow sensitive slit of her vagina and gently thrust into it, parting the soft pubic hair and making sudden delicious contact with the throbbing tiny head of her clitoris. It was wet and slippery from the unwanted desire that permeated her whole being and she sucked in her breath tightly to hold back the groan of pleasure she felt building deep in her chest. She couldn't make a sound. Bob would know, he would know, and he just couldn't find out it was his own wife wrapped in this horrible obscene embrace with Harry Burns right in front of him. All she could do was to lie here helplessly while he roamed his hands over her body at will and took all the indecent liberties with her he desired. There was nothing she could do and the tears of humiliation cascaded warmly down over her face, as in her horror she found herself reacting involuntarily to the maddening caresses of her breasts and vagina. She was wet between her legs and found her hips suddenly squirming in involuntary rhythm to the light teasing of his finger rummaging between her thighs.
"Spread 'em a little, baby," Harry breathed harshly into her mouth, "Daddy wants it open wide."
"Oh God, please don't do it here. I couldn't stand it," she pleaded softly through her tears and desire. "Don't let my husband see you doing it to me."
"Promise you'll do it my way if we go somewhere?" he whispered with a triumphant grin on his face.
"Oh yes, yes, anything," she implored, "but please don't let him watch us."
Harry rose from the couch and pulled her up by the hand giving her just a moment to smooth her dress down. He led her quickly toward the bar, stopping to fill their glasses and then, once more, pulled her by the hand out of the room and into the corridor.
Carol was so emotionally upset from the Pernod and the horrible sight of her husband making love to another woman that she was hardly conscious of what she was doing or where she was going. It wasn't until he had led her into the room and closed the door behind them that she suddenly realized what she had said to him in her desperation back in the other room. The full impact of the evil thought of another man making love to her suddenly hit her. She had to get out of this awful mess she had gotten herself into and had to do it quick or it would be too late!
She suddenly turned toward the door and grabbing the knob tried with all her strength to pull it open.
It was locked!
Harry Burns laughed behind her as she struggled desperately, but to no avail, against the unyielding handle. Finally, realizing the futility of her efforts she sagged forward against the door and sobbed helplessly.
"Oh please let me out, Mr. Burns, please. I'll do anything but this. I-I just can't go through with it."
"Too late now, baby," he said with a cold, cruel grin playing across his lips. "Remember, an eye for an eye. Besides, what are you worrying about? He's out there balling my wife, don't you think we ought to get even?"
"Yes, yes, but not like this." She pleaded desperately. "We can sit down and talk with them later."
"Not on your life," he laughed aloud. "Old Daddy here doesn't play that way. Besides, I've been looking forward to this since I saw you working out in the yard last Sunday with those tight-assed little shorts on. Alan, what a picture you make in those."
"Y-You mean you thought about this before?" The brutal realization that she had been led into this like a naive young schoolgirl suddenly hit her with the impact of a cannon ball.
"Hell yes," he gloated proudly. "You don't think that husband of yours is any better than anyone else with investments do you? No baby, it was those tight little pants of yours that got him that account and nothing more. And-I intend to get a lot of what's in 'em if he's going to keep it."
She stared across the room in disbelief. She couldn't believe the things he was saying. How could this crude, obscene man dare to stand there and say those things to her? He just wasn't human.
"Now come on, chicken, get that dress off and let's see what you look like in the nude."
Carol pressed herself tightly back against the door as she watched him begin stripping his clothes from his body. She wanted to close her eyes and shut out the horror but was too frightened that he would move toward her without her knowing it. It took hut a second until he stood in front of her completely naked, this thick, hard prick standing out from beneath the slight paunch he was beginning to develop like the menacing shaft of a heavy blunt spear. He turned toward her and with a lewd grin on his lips began stroking the heavy uncircumcised foreskin back and forth over the hard bulbous head.
"Like that, honey?" he smiled, obviously enjoying the brutal torment he was subjecting her to. He was a sadist and she watched like a trapped insect the faint cruel glint growing in his eyes like a hot burning ember glowing in the fire.
"Bet your husband never had anything like that to stuff in you," he continued his tormenting of the horrified girl, watching the contorted expressions of paralyzing fear cross over her face like some great tidal wave of darkness. Carol tried to speak, hut she couldn't. She was completely frozen against the door as she watched the lewd man still stroking himself before her. Against her will, he eyes dropped again to the hard fleshy instrument he was holding in his hand.
My God, it was thick!
In spite of her fear, she found her mind wondering how a woman could take such a thing inside of her without being split completely apart. He was built and he knew it, and stood for a moment longer reveling in the fear the size of his cock was bringing to her eyes.
He started slowly toward her.
"D-Don't touch me." Carol finally managed to stammer through the immobilizing fear. She knew there was no escape now. He was going to ravish her helpless body no matter how she pleaded with him not to do it.
"Are you gonna take those clothes off, or do I have to do it for you?"
Carol stood motionless, all hope gone. There was nothing she could do against his strength. She was alone and completely at his mercy to do as he wished.
He reached out with his thick meaty hands and with a quick sudden jerk drew her hard against him cupping her face in his palms. He jerked her mask away and with an evil triumphant grin pressed his wet lips tightly down over hers, thrusting his tongue deep into the depths of her mouth. She stood limply in front of him feeling the hardness of his penis digging into the softness of her stomach. A last faint thought of trying to tear herself away from him flickered across her mind but faded with the pain of his fingers digging into the sides of her face.
"That's a girl," he breathed into her mouth softly. "Daddy's gonna do it to you nice and easy."
Carol was dimly aware of his hands leaving her face and snaking around her body to the zipper at the back of her dress. With one swift downward jerk he opened it down to the tops of her buttocks. She could feel the cool rush of air against her skin as he pulled it from her shoulders and let it fall in a soft heap to the floor around her ankles. The snaps of her brassiere came next and she heard him mutter a faint sigh of lusty appreciation as he dropped it to the floor and her full white breasts burst into the open air. He dropped to his knees in front of her as she swayed above him, hooking his finger in the elastic waist band of her white nylon panties and pulled them slowly down over the softness of her round full buttocks and let them drop in the small skimpy pile of her other clothing around her ankles.
There was nothing left. She stood before him completely naked like the goddess Venus while she heard him panting on his knees in front of her. She swayed dangerously, almost losing her balance as she felt his lips pressing tightly into the nude flesh of her belly. The sudden wet contact sent a chill racing the length of her spine and she automatically reached forward with her hands locking them in his hair to keep from falling. Mistaking this for total surrender he dropped his lips to the "V" of her crotch, spreading the soft blonde pubic hair with his thumbs and flicking his tongue lizard-like into the moist, flowering slit of her vagina.
Carol jumped from the sudden electrifying contact with the tiny bud of her clitoris, losing her balance and falling backwards toward the bed. The edge caught her behind the knees and she sprawled flat on her back, her legs opening wide as she landed.
Harry Burns leaped forward and caught her in that position as she kicked to close her legs. He clamped his sweating palms against the soft insides of her thighs and held her as she landed. Legs spread wide apart and eyes open wide in abject terror, she struggled to close them but it was a hopeless one-sided battle. She could see him haunched on all fours down between her widespread thighs grinning up at her between her proud upstanding breasts like a beast of prey ready to pounce on its helpless, fear-stricken victim and devour it in savage feast. The pink moist flesh of her naked vagina was presented up to his leering face in defenseless sacrifice. She lay frozen to the mattress, her humiliation complete, as she watched his tongue slowly circling his lips in nervous preparation for the ravishment about to take place.
Again, he placed his palms flat against the inside of her thighs his thumbs resting on the soft fleshy flanges of her cunt. Then, with a slow torturing outward movement of the thumbs he drew the ragged pink lips slowly apart exposing the moist pink slit to the mercy of his gaze. He watched it greedily for a moment and then with an animal-like groan he dropped his head and buried the full length of his long slippery tongue snake-like into the warm throbbing walls of her pussy.
She jerked, a soul-searing moan escaping from deep in her chest. Her buttocks ground down into the mattress trying to escape the maddening assault on her secret genitals.
"Oh God! Ooooh, Oooooooh!" She whimpered before his depraved attack. Her head was up off the mattress, watching in horrified disbelief that this nightmare was actually happening to her as his head rocked up and down in greedy feast between her legs below.
"It can't be, it can't be," she groaned over and over to herself, in undisguised humiliation, her head falling back on the mattress and flailing helplessly from side to side as his tongue speared in and out of the involuntarily dilating lips of her cunt. In spite of her terror, and revulsion at the horrible things being done to her defenseless genitals, tiny wisps of forbidden pleasure began to ripple deep down in her belly and her arms lay tensed at her side while her firm rounded breasts jiggled slightly from the buffeting her body was undergoing. His hands reached up over the white flatness of her quivering belly and dug harshly into their fleshy softness, his fingers rolling the hardening nipples between them in unrelenting fury. As his mouth and tongue worked animal-like in slobbering subjugation at the wide-spread tightness of her cunt, his eyes remained opened wide, watching in arrogant delight the contortions of her face up through the quivering white mounds of her breasts. He was waiting, waiting for the first signs of total surrender he knew were sure to come.
Carol lay frozen in abject submission to the depraved outrages he was subjecting her helpless, trapped body to. There was nothing she could do, and great tears of humiliation and shame swelled in her eyes. Random crazy pictures of her husband flickered through her mind as she listened to the vile wet sucking noises Harry Burns was making at her crotch. Oh God, how could she ever face him again after allowing her body to be subjected to this cruel inhuman man haunched on all fours down between her cruelly spread legs? He was defiling her as she never thought possible, humiliating her beyond her wildest imagination and there was nothing she could do but lie beneath him and accept any degradation he would desire without so much as a scream in protest. Oh God, why did Bob have to make love to his wife! Why did he have to deceive her and leave her at the mercy of this lust-crazed beast! Carol had never felt so alone and helpless in her entire life.
His eyes remained locked on her face as he continued the torturing thrusts of his tongue into her vagina. He watched the helpless tears falling over her cheeks with cruel satisfaction. The goddamn little bitch, this would teach her to run around in her yard with those short shorts on, teasing the hell out of a man. So she was too good for the likes of him, he laughed to himself, giving an extra hard thrust of the tongue. Well, he'd show her. Before the night was over she'd be crawling to him on her knees begging for more. And by God she'd get it and more. Chuckling softly to himself, he brought his hands down and pushed them under the backs of her knees splayed out wide on either side of him. He lifted and pushed them up and over her body so the kneecaps touched her breasts and exposed the whole flat plane of her crotch to his lustful sight. This would get her, he grinned, and flicked the tip of his tongue into the tight little puckered hole of her anus nestled just below the opening of her cunt.
The unexpected wet searing contact with the sensitive, rubbery opening brought a long low moan of anguish from her tortured lips. She clenched her eyes tightly shut and her lips bared back over her teeth from the torturing sensation it sent racing out of control through her body.
"Oooooooh, God, don't, please don't!" she whimpered, trying desperately to screw her buttocks back down from the hot flicking tongue licking without mercy at her asshole. His answer was a lewd chuckle from his wet lips and a further stab into the tight fleshy ring.
"Aaaaaggh," she groaned again as small tiny goosebumps rippled across her quivering belly and full heaving breasts.
Carol sobbed helplessly before his attack, and suddenly, in spite of her revulsion and humiliation she felt her body begin to desert her. Her buttocks jerked back involuntarily at the darting tongue sending helpless spasms of delicious sensation coursing through her raw nerves.
"Oh no! No! I can't! I can't!" the cruel realization of her loss of control suddenly hit her with it's full impact, bringing further cries of shame and humiliation at the thought, not only of the obscene adultery she was committing with another man, but the more frightening and shameful thought that her body was suddenly enjoying it. She clenched her teeth tight together and fought with all her will against the tiny licking sparks that threatened to burst into sudden uncontrollable flame and devour her in her helplessness. But, it was a losing battle as Harry Burns mewled and licked ceaselessly at her naked wet loins below.
And then, after a moment of long desperate struggle within her tortured and confused mind, the dam burst.
Her shamelessly aroused body suddenly jerked spasmodically and began a slow abandoned movement up against his thrusting tongue. Her hands curled down into his hair with a low soul-stirring moan from deep in her chest. Forgotten were the thoughts of her husband, forgotten was the humiliation. All that mattered now were the delicious shafts of pleasure piercing through her flesh like tiny pricking needles of fire.
Harry sensed her sudden submissive surrender and with a savage grin, thrust his thick wet tongue deep into the quivering sheath of her vagina again. He could feel the soft silky pubic hairs grazing tantalizingly against the tip of his nose and the sides of his cheeks as she ground her buttocks in a slow hypnotic rhythm up against his face. She was his now, he gloated, watching excitedly the pained pleasurable contortions of her face as her eyes clenched, her lips baring back over the whiteness of her teeth.
Yes, by god, it wouldn't be long now, he sensed with excitement, until he rammed it deep into that white little belly of hers and shot his hot eager sperm all the way up in this tight steaming pussy. By God, she wasn't too good for him anymore. She was just another hot little bitch who was screaming to be fucked by any cock she could get her hands on. Well, he gloated with obscene delight, she'd get it alright ... and get it good.
Outside on the screen, the man's buttocks were flexing and hollowing rapidly as he drove himself hard into the writhing young girl underneath him. Her legs were wrapped tight around his body, her ankles locked in a lewd death-like grip over his back. His giant cock was spearing into her tight wet pussy like a steel piston, bringing grunts of indescribable joy to her mumbling lips.
Bob could see the end coming for both of them as he watched the screen over the rocking shoulder of Harry Burns' wife as she labored heavily over him to finish it. He heard her grunt loudly just as he felt his own explosion deep inside the tight wet confines of her cunt shooting its hot fiery liquid deep up inside her. Both their bodies quivered for a moment emptying themselves against each other. And then, she collapsed down on him with a sigh of relief as Bob watched the couple on the screen grunting to completion just before the last few frames of the reel whirred into blackness. There was a few moments of darkness as Marsha Burns slowly crawled from his body, his wet deflated prick slipping from her with a soft sucking noise. And then, the screen was lit again. He tried to focus his eyes to see more clearly, but he couldn't. The Pernod and the final wild race for fulfillment with Marsha had dulled his senses too much. It was just a faint blur in the distance across the room.
"Recognize the Red Room," Marsha whispered next to him, a strange excited tone in her voice.
He nodded his head slightly as his eyes focused a little better. He could make out the blurred shapes of two bodies writhing on the bed with a man's head buried deep between the wide-spread legs of a blonde girl whose hands clung tightly to his hair as though it were a matter of life or death. Her blurred face was contorted into a half-crazed expression of passion that seemed to border on the verge of hysteria. He had the sudden vague feeling that he knew this girl from somewhere but his thoughts were interrupted by the white-coated waiter going around the room and whispering something to the couples locked in various positions of love on the couches. Without exception, they stopped whatever they happened to be doing and focused their attention on the screen.
"Harry's breaking in a new member for us tonight. You'll enjoy watching it." Marsha whispered over to him, the strange excited tone in her voice growing more intense.
"Harry, your husband!" he exclaimed. "I thought he was out of town."
"Oh, yes, he was," she laughed, snuggling her shoulders nonchalantly. "But he came back unexpectedly and decided to join in the party. I forgot to tell you about it."
"B-But," Bob stammered unable to believe his ears. "What if he sees us together."
"Don't you worry, dear boy," she said, patting his hand. "He knows all about it. Now you just relax and watch the show. It should be particularly interesting to you."
"To me, why me?"
"You'll see, love, you'll see." She patted his arm and curled up against him. "I'll have the screen focused properly in a little while after Harry really gets warmed up."
Bob took his glass from the small rack on the arm of the couch and tipped it to his lips. He knew he had had enough but this was a crazy mess and he decided he was going to need a little fortification if he had to face Harry Burns tonight after screwing his wife the way he had been doing. The Pernod relaxed him again and he tried to concentrate on the screen, his eyes clearing slightly.
God, that girl, whoever she was, was really going out of her mind. He wondered casually which one of the men's wives it was, and why Harry Burns got the honor of breaking her into the club. He wished also they'd focus that screen now, this was too good to be missed and he wanted to see all the details of the action. The thought of that poor girl in her first initiation stirred his loins considerably in spite of the going over he had just had with Marsha, God, he'd love to get a shot at her tonight after Harry finished. He wondered if the club rules were the same as some of those that had been exposed in the papers recently where all the men got a shot at the new female members. But, there was no hurry, he would have plenty of time before the evening was over.
Carol squirmed and bucked under the maddening torture of Harry's flicking tongue until she thought the pounding of her heart would break through her chest. Her head was raised from the bed again watching his face, her hands locked tightly behind his head pulling the punishing lash of his tongue deeper and deeper into her. It seemed as though the delicious sucking of her vagina had gone on forever, when suddenly Harry forced his head from the tight restrictive grip of her hands and kneeled up between her open thighs.
She closed her eyes tight again to close away the humiliation of lying under him stripped naked and defenseless against his cold cruel gaze. The shame of the weakness of her body momentarily brought her to reality. But, then he spoke:
"Now I'm gonna fuck you, baby," he breathed. "Just like your husband did my wife, only better."
Carol lay still, with her thighs open wide, her breath coming so fast she felt her lungs would burst. Her belly quivered and heaved as though he already had the long thick cock extending out from his loins sunk deep inside her.
Harry bent down over her prostrate body, fastening his teeth harshly into the nipple of her heaving left breast. She groaned in pain, attempting to twist away from the sudden sharp torture but his hands, playing over the softness of her thighs and hips, held her tight. His lips roamed wetly over the white palpitating mounds, causing a blissful twitch that descended feather-like to her crotch below. Her buttocks began a slow impatient grinding down into the mattress.
"God damn, you're gettin' hot," he moaned as his lips slobbered over the soft sensitive parts of her body, his eyes still hard and cruel in the greed of his desire. "I'm gonna screw you like you've never been screwed before. I want to see you twist and squirm when this cock of mine sinks into your belly. I want to see you beg and scream for it."
Carol lay frozen under the prodding of his obscene words. Their very lewdness excited her more and more but still she fought within herself against this final surrender that would mean her total subjugation to him.
"Spread your legs wide, honey, I'm comin' in now," Harry grinned in triumph above her.
Quivering, half in fear and half in anticipation, Carol opened her thighs wider apart. Harry levered up over her, his arms stiff, his hands resting on her shoulders. He dropped one hand down between their bodies taking the hard, throbbing cock between his fingers and guided it forward, using the thick rubbery head to part the full, fleshy lips of her cunt. She turned her head to the side on the mattress, closing her eyes with a shudder as she felt its soft electrical contact against the sensitive ragged edges of her moist pussy. She held her breath for what seemed an eternity, lying still in utter subjugation before him, not even daring to breath.
"Oooooooh," she breathed as she felt the first harsh pressure against the tight elastic opening of her vagina.
He pushed.
"Aaaagh," she coughed as the tip slipped through, stretching cruelly the tight rubbery opening until Carol felt as though her thighs were splitting apart from the relentless outward pressure.
"Ooooh, God no, please. You're hurting me. You're hurting me!" She was suddenly screaming almost at the top of her voice as she jerked her eyes open in fear and saw his evil sadistic grin above her. Oh God, he was killing her, and he was enjoying it. He was enjoying watching her suffer beneath the cruelty of his slow relentless penetration of her cunt.
Suddenly, the grin on his face faded and a contorted expression of sheer raw lust replaced it. He could stand it no more, watching this helpless, innocent young wife spread-eagle beneath him with the head of his cock disappearing into the hair of her pussy.
He had to fuck her, he had to, and quick!
He fell forward, his weight smashing her full firm tits tightly back against her chest. He thrust his hips forward at the same time and his long, thick cock slid into her cunt like a raging freight train pushing the soft moist flesh of her vaginal walls in rippling waves before it. There was no stopping it until with a loud groan his balls smacked heavily into the upturned cheeks of her tightly clenched ass.
"Oh God! Oh God!" she cried beneath him. She had never been so filled in her life and his cock felt as though it had ripped her vagina in a thousand tiny threads as he had speared into her without mercy or thought of injury. And now, now it lay sunk deep in her belly filling every part of her insides. There wasn't one tiny ridge of flesh on it that she could not feel as it pressed tight against the soft flesh of her cunt, enclosed in the moist warm sheath like a sword sliced cruelly into its piteous victim's belly.
He lay still for a moment, his face directly over hers. Carol too lay immobile, afraid to move for fear of the pain it might bring. Neither made a sound for a long moment and then suddenly she felt a throb deep inside, the thickness of Harry's cock jerked up another half an inch as he flexed it inside her vagina.
"Auuuuuuughh!" she grunted breathlessly, her face contorting to the deeper pain.
"Told ya I'd stretch that tight little pussy of yours, baby," he tormented above her, flexing again.
"Aaaaaaaggggghh," she groaned deeper this time, the cords in her neck standing out from the pressure of her resistance.
"Like it?" he grinned down in lewd delight at the pained expression on her face.
There was no answer.
"Like it, baby, I said?" he flexed again.
"Ooooooohhh, yes, yes," she cried, afraid to offend him. The pain was just too unbearable.
"Beg then," he hissed with contemptuous coldness.
"W-What," was all the anguished girl could utter.
"Beg me, I said," he repeated with greater arrogance.
"Ooooh, no I can't I can't," she prayed beneath him.
"Beg me to fuck you. Now!" he throbbed the huge member deep down in her quivering belly again.
"Oooooh, God, don't, don't, I can't," she fought with all her strength and courage to escape this one final humiliation. This, she knew, would be the final surrender. There would be no escaping him ever again. It was the only thing she had left. He had taken all else, her pride in her fidelity to her husband, her self respect, everything was gone. She couldn't let him have the pleasure of hearing her beg too. She just couldn't.
He throbbed deeper, digging his fingers into the softness of her shoulders at the same time.
"Do it," he commanded, savage fire burning in his eyes, "Beg, you bitch."
"Ooooh, God," she sobbed, her resistance broken by the pain and helplessness of her position. "Do it to me, do it to me."
"Not like that, say fuck me," he demanded.
"Oh, fuck me!" she hissed through clenched teeth, tears gushing from her eyes as she spat out the lewd, obscene words. Her humiliation and degradation were complete. She would never be the same again. She had allowed herself to lose control over all the things she knew were right and now she wished she were dead. She could never face Bob again with the innocence she had before. She was a whore now, she was a whore!
The bitter words bored into her mind like evil omens of doom. She was lost! Lost! He had taken everything that was right and good from her. There was no hope left, nothing, nothing, but the huge, fleshy instrument buried deep inside her burning vagina.
Harry Burns sensed the loss of the last remaining ounce of resistance left in her soul and clamping his wet lips suddenly right down over her mouth he began a slow rocking motion between her thighs. He could feel the tight narrow passage widening slightly with each short smooth stroke as she groaned in hopeless defeat beneath him. It wouldn't take long to turn this smooth, soft-bodied young wife into a raw, squealing mass of helpless desire. He could feel it by the way she reacted to his earlier touches. Even though she had resisted and was convinced in her own mind that she was a sweet conservative wife, true to her husband in all respects, he could detect a latent hot streak in her that had just never been turned on. Well, he'd make sure she got turned on tonight and he could think of nothing better than having a cute little hot pants like this in the neighborhood that he could sneak over and grab a little piece of anytime he got the urge.
Carol's body began to involuntarily react. There was no longer any reason to fight the lewd flames of desire coursing through her veins. She had lost the battle against the obscene feelings and even the agonizing thought of her total surrender sent chills running along the base of her spine as she felt the slow rhythm of Harry Burns' cock begin skewering wetly into her.
Her whole body twitched and writhed beneath him and she groaned incessantly up into the moistness of his mouth, shoving her tongue with a sudden complete abandon deep into his throat. Low hums of passionate servile acceptance came in torrents from deep in her chest, her face contorted with passion, mouth working, neck straining, nostrils flared, a light sweat breaking out on her forehead under the now disheveled soft blonde hair.
Harry slipped his hands down her sides and slid them under the soft smooth globes of her moving buttocks, grasping them harshly, one in each hand. He remembered with lust-inciting clarity the tight shorts she had worn in the backyard that day and the thoughts he had had of holding them like this. The realization that they were his now to do with as he wished, drove him to greater frenzy.
They were flexing and unflexing, oozing around his fingers as he pressed his hands tightly into them. He jerked her harder to his loins and felt her pulling her thighs back a little more, the moist wet hole of her cunt flowering open to receive his cock to greater and greater depths.
The pain was gone now and her legs on either side of his impaling rod of flesh were jerking and quivering in uncontrolled abandon. Her eyes were closed and her tongue worked and slavered up into his mouth as small mewling sounds of velvety pleasure rumbled from her throat. The cords in her neck and thighs stood out hard and tense as she writhed beneath him from the intensity of her feeling. There was no longer any thought of anything but the delicious sensation of lying beneath this man who was fucking her against her will and giving back to him what he was giving her.
Harry slaved above her, moving suddenly into longer smooth strokes that brought his cock almost all the way out of her clasping vagina on the backstroke and then thrusting forward into her uplifted buttocks again until he could feel the harsh slap of his balls against the unprotected crevice of her anus. He grinned, at the thought of further humiliation and slid his fingers down over the tight skin of her ass and found the small puckered anus cradled defenselessly below. It was soft and warm and he could feel it working with the movement of her buttocks pushing against his loins.
He pushed into it with a sudden quick movement feeling the soft rubbery flesh yielding before his attack.
"Oooooh," she gasped, the sound tumbling from her lips in painful protest.
He thrust harder, taking pleasure in hearing her noises of subjugation.
"Ooooooooooh!" she groaned louder this time from the further outrage against her defenseless asshole.
But there was no respite.
He worked his finger around inside, stretching the rubbery softness wider and wider as he ground into her. He slipped another finger in and felt the tight resistance give way as it moved into the soft warm depths.
The deep guttural noises coming from her chest slowed into whimpers of pain for a moment and then slowly subsided to be replaced by greater moans of pleasure as her anus slowly became accustomed to the strange unnatural invasion.
He smiled a smile of triumph into her wet sucking mouth as he felt her begin slowly screwing her rectum back on his fingers as he probed them methodically around the warm rubbery depths. She was hopelessly impaled between his hard throbbing cock in her vagina and his fingers shoved tightly in her asshole. And now, moaning and mewling beneath him, she began twisting and squealing in abandon under the double ravishment of her loins.
He slid his other hand slowly up from the smooth rounded cheek of her ass to where his cock was sliding smoothly in and out of her pussy and could feel the soft hair-lined folds clasped tight to his rampaging cock and he could sense their softness pulling and giving with each long, hard, jack-hammer thrust into her.
He fondled and played with the contracting lips of her pussy where he entered her, bringing softer moans of abandoned sensation from her mouth and at the same time he could feel the ever widening passage of her vagina flowering in greedy desire to swallow the whole of his cock plunging far inside her.
He quickened his thrusts, hot and pulsating and deep, as she thrashed her body beneath him. She was ready to cum, he could feel it as her legs on either side of him jerked wide and up. He ripped his fingers from her rectum with a wet hissing sound and pressed his hands behind her knees pushing them back and hard down against the mattress on either side of her shoulders. The plane of her crotch was wide open to the pile-driving thrusts of his loins as he smacked brutally into her.
"Oh, oh, oh," she chanted beneath him, her face contorted in an unrecognizable mask of wild abandon passion.
He grunted and groaned and quickened his stroke, grinding hard and deep so that his cock bored far up into the hidden, untouched recesses of her womb. Her breasts heaved and quivered up against the pressure of his chest, the tiny hardened nipples digging into him like buttons on a coat.
He felt her cunt opening around him and warm gushes of wet sticky liquid flooding hot around his pistoning cock. He thrust faster, digging deep, deep inside her. He wanted her to remember this all her life, and worked to make it true.
He felt her jerk up towards him several times, the lips of her cunt working and sucking at his penis as though trying to milk him dry. Her breath was coming in short desperate gasps and he thrust deep again feeling suddenly his own hot, wet sperm shoot from the top of his cock far into her soft, quivering belly. Their juices mingled deep down inside in a wet pool of joy and passion that Carol had never known could exist.
Her legs went limp all of a sudden and fell out to the sides, splayed obscenely on either side of his still heaving body. Her heart pounded in her chest as though it would burst. Her body was beaten and satiated as it never had been before and the sudden wave of shame and humiliation returned to her again as she remembered where she was and who was lying on top of her with his thick penis still buried deep inside her still gently palpitating vagina. Again tears stained her cheeks as she saw the obscene picture they made in the mirrored ceiling above. Her, lying with her arms and legs spread wide apart and his body covering hers between them in the age old position of the conquering man. Well, she had been fucked, and fucked good, just as Jean warned her and now all she wanted to do was get away from this horrible place as fast as she could. Even though she had caught her husband in the midst of making love to this man's wife, it gave her no excuse. He must never know, never.
"Like it, baby?" Harry lifted his head above hers and grinned down at her.
"Yes Harry," she said coldly, "Now let me up. I want to go home."
"In a minute, baby, in a minute," he smiled. "I ain't even pulled it out yet, see."
He throbbed his deflating rod gently in her vagina.
Carol groaned from the further indignity, throwing her arm over her eyes to blot out the closeness of his face over hers. It was enough to have been so weak and to have allowed her body to surrender to the crudeness of this horrible man whose cum lay hot and sticky deep in her belly but to have to listen to him talk about it afterwards was just impossible.
"Harry, please, let me up, please," she whimpered. "I have to go before Bob leaves here and finds me not at home."
"What are you worried about? He's gettin' his, ain't he, and from my wife too. Turn about's fair play."
"I know, I know," she pleaded trying to get through to him. "But it's different with a man. He could never forgive me."
Outside, Bob had found himself moving nervously on the couch as he watched the hazy body of the blonde girl writhing in wild abandoned passion as Harry Burns fucked her. He had never seen such an exhibition of sheer, unadulterated lust and it was getting to him. It hadn't been long since he fucked Burns' wife but even so he could feel his prick hardening again at the sight of the two bodies moistly fused together on the screen. The waiter had switched the camera a few minutes ago to the one at the foot of the bed and Bob had felt ripples of life coming into him again as a perfect view came on the screen of Harry's cock buried deep inside the girl's cunt. For some reason, this one had been in good focus and even the tiny red flanges of her tight pussy could be seen clasping hungrily around his cock as it slipped in and out of the soft surrounding of light blonde pubic hair. Bob had watched hypnotized as the tight wet cunt lips had skewered up and down the rigid pole of flesh following it out as it withdrew and disappearing back inside as he thrust into her again. Then the camera had gone back to the one over the bed where they had a view of them from the top. It was out of focus again and her face couldn't be made out too clearly except that she was screaming for it. She had to be, her legs were drawn back as far as they could go and her hands were digging into his buttocks trying to pull him deeper inside her. God, she was a hot little bitch, hotter than anything he had ever seen before.
"Do I get her next?" Bob whispered over to Marsha who sat quietly with a strange secret smile on her face.
"Mmmmm, Yes, I suppose so if you like." And then added with a twinkle in her eyes. "Do you think there'll be anything left after Harry gets through?"
"God, at this rate, I don't know," he answered as he saw the writhing couple begin racing wildly for their final orgasm. "But I sure as hell hope so."
Marsha pushed a button by the couch and the waiter came over from behind the bar and leaned over her.
"Peter, I think the set needs focusing a little. Would you take care of it for us, please. And switch the camera around a little, we'd like a little variety in the positions."
"Why didn't he fix it before, couldn't he see it wasn't working right?" Bob said half angrily. They had missed a lot of the best of the action.
"Ready for a surprise, dear?" Marsha smiled at him.
"There's nothing you can do anymore that would surprise me," he smiled back.
"Oh no," she laughed, "Then watch."
He looked back toward the screen as the blurred lines around the figures smacking against each other in uncontrolled passion on the bed suddenly began clearing away. The camera pointed straight down from above the couple, the girls face looking straight up at it from over the man's shoulder on top of her. The last shadowy lines faded and the set was brought into sharp clear focus, a perfect picture of the girl's lust contorted face.
Bob's heart stopped.
His head whirled in disbelief at the vision that 'flickered suddenly before his eyes on the giant screen. It was Carol's face staring up at the camera with glazed unseeing eyes. Her mouth was wide open wide, gasping fish-like up into the room.
"My God, it can't be," he groaned.
The view switched to the camera at the foot of the bed again and the thick fleshy cock of Harry Burns was outlined clearly pistoning wetly into the hair-lined opening of his wife's cunt. He was holding her legs back far over her head so that he had the greatest possible access to her helpless widespread loins. Her buttocks were presented up to him in white defenseless sacrifice as his monstrously thick cock speared in and out of her without the slightest grain of mercy. His finger was sunk deep in Carol's tiny puckered anus.
It's a mistake, it's a mistake, the thoughts flashed through his mind faster than he could think. It's someone else. It's got to be.
But the view changed again and Carol's panting, pleading face was again clearly visible, egging her laboring lover on, her arms and ankles locked tightly around his sweating body, riding the wave with him.
Bob sat frozen, as he saw her begin screaming her first shrill sounds of orgasm as Marsha's husband screwed her mercilessly. Her legs kicked back wide until he thought Carol's crotch would split down the middle from the cruel distorted position but Harry Burns had reached up with both hands and held her knees back cruelly up over her shoulders and tightly down to the mattress until she was bent double. God, he would kill her. How could she take it so deep?
His question was answered as he saw her final jerks of fulfillment and watched the hollowing muscles of Harry's buttocks as he pumped his lewd, sticky sperm deep up into Carol's quivering belly.
Bob's first impulse when his wife's face had first come on the screen, was to leap from the couch and race to her rescue. But a moments confused wait showed that this was no rape.
She was loving every minute of being fucked by another man!
The goddamn bitch, his mind repeated over and over, she's loving it! The dirty little whore, the dirty little whore, she had never put out for him like that. All the time he had thought she was just a cold innocent babe in arms and had used all the patience he had possessed to try and break down the barriers she had thrown up against sex. But it had never worked. She had always remained cold and impassive to his lovemaking co-operative, yes, like she was doing him a favor, but still cold and impassive.
And now - now this. She had turned on with their neighbor like she had never had a prick shoved in her before. Well, by God, he was going to get his share of it tonight too and maybe break her damn little unfaithful neck in the process.
"Surprised," Marsha chuckled softly next to him sensing his hurt and anger.
"How did she get here?" he asked with fire in his voice.
"Oh, Harry dropped by your house and suggested it."
"She didn't object?"
"Did she look like it?" Marsha laughed. "Harry said she almost raped him on your living room couch before he could get her out of the house."
"Take me to her," he said harshly, the anger rising to a fever pitch inside his chest.
"Alright, if you promise no fights," Marsha agreed with a smile, "That's against the club rules."
"No, no fights. I'm just going to fuck the shit out of the little bitch."
"Well, just walk on down to the Red room and knock twice on the door," she grinned wickedly. "I'm sure she'll be very surprised and happy to see you."
"Not when I'm through with her she won't," Bob shot back at her as he rose from the couch.
Carol lay immobile under the heavy relaxed body of Harry Burns whose sweating flesh oozed over her supple form in collapsed satiation. She could feel his penis slowly deflating inside her belly. Her vagina felt flooded and used as it never had before and she wanted to close her legs and rest the ache that was forming there. She had pleaded with him to let her up but he had not responded. He was enjoying to the fullest his brutal and complete conquest of her proud young body and was in no hurry to withdraw from its warm wet cavern. She lay quietly, afraid to move for fear that it would excite him again and cause his thick huge penis to harden once more deep inside her. The thought of having to go through the horrible humiliation again of his spewing his hot white cum inside her would be too much. She would not be able to stand it and lay still hoping he would let her go without subjecting her to further indignities.
She was hardly conscious of the knocking on the door until she felt Harry's spent body stirring above her. She felt his withdrawal, his now soft penis slipping from her vagina with a soft, wet, sucking noise. A cool rush of air flowed through her loins and over her body when he rose. A long sigh of drawn out relief breathed from her heaving chest and she closed her legs in relief feeling the pain subside a little in the stretched muscles of her thighs. Her eyes opened and suddenly the realization hit her that he was going to open the door.
"Don't," she almost screamed at him. "I don't have any clothes on."
"Don't worry, baby, whoever it is won't mind the sight of you one bit," he said as he turned the key in the lock and swung the door wide open.
Carol struggled to raise herself from the bed and then froze to the mattress, her eyes opened wide in disbelief.
It was Bob!
"Oh God," she moaned in humiliation at her husband seeing her like this, naked and her belly still filled with the wetness of another man's sperm. She opened her mouth in horror, but was too paralyzed with fright to scream. Instead she jerked her arm up over her face and collapsed in a sobbing, helpless heap back down on the mattress. There was nothing else she could do, her face reddening from the shame of his eyes locked coldly on her broken and used body.
"Yes, bitch, it's your husband coming to pay his respects." He snarled coldly as he stepped inside.
"She's all yours, sport," Harry Burns said contemptuously and walked from the room without bothering with his clothes. Bob did not bother to look at him as he squeezed past him in the doorway. Even though he had just finished doing the same thing to his wife he was not certain he wouldn't lose control from the anger coursing through him and smash Burns' arrogant face into a pulp.
"Bob, darling," Carol blubbered from the bed, finding somehow the courage to remove her arm from her eyes and look up at him. "You don't understand, you don't understand!"
He walked over by the side of the bed and stood looking down at her with a hard, contemptuous hatred in his eyes. He did not speak. Carol quivered on the mattress her fear and humiliation too great to allow her to move.
"Darling, listen to me, please listen to me," she sobbed up at him.
Her words sounded pathetic and useless even to her own ears.
His eyes trailed the length of her body, coming to rest at her thighs where thin sticky trails of the lewd sperm Harry Burns had just pumped into her could still be seen glistening wetly in the dim light of the room. The lewd reminder incited him more. His face contorted with a cruel and unbending ruthlessness that she had never seen there before.
"Darling, let's go home and talk," she pleaded.
He still did not speak. He just stood silently with a hate-filled expression lining his contorted lips.
"Say something, darling, say something," she prayed to him in desperation. She didn't know him now and her shame and humiliation were replaced by the fear that he was going to kill. She almost wished he would. "You fucking bitch."
He spoke the words so hard and cruelly that she winced from their impact. He leaned down over the bed and grasped her shoulders hard in his hands digging his fingers deep into the softness of her tortured flesh. He held his face within inches of hers.
"How many other men have fucked you since we've been married?" he spat. "You're nothing but a dirty little whore. A whore, that's what you are. Well, I'm gonna pay for mine this time and see if it makes it more lively, like with Harry Burns. I want two dollars worth and it better be good."
He straightened up and pulled two one dollar bills from his pocket and threw them on her sobbing form as she lay quivering beneath his vile verbal attack. Through her bitter anguish Carol could hear the sound of a zipper being drawn down and then the movement of the bed sagging under his weight as he crawled on it. He closed his hands tightly around her throat and pulled her mouth to him. But the sudden movement and the savage pressure of his hands on her throat caused her to jerk her face away.
"You bitch," he spat, "I didn't see you squirming away from him."
He slapped her hard, flat across the cheek, jerking her head to the side so hard she thought certainly he had broken something. She tried to twist away from his madness and rolled desperately across the bed.
He caught her by the hair and jerked her back. The next slap was behind the head and Carol felt as though he had broken her head.
"Bob! Bob! Please, please, you don't know what you're doing," she pleaded in hopeless desperation.
"I know bitch, I know," he spat between tightly clenched teeth. "I've finally learned the game."
He slapped her again, this time across the face when she had turned to plead with him bringing a harsh stinging sensation to her skin as though she were being doused with raw gasoline. She fought and struggled now for fear he was going to do something desperate in his rage, kicking and scratching with all the remaining strength she had left after the previous struggle with Harry Burns. They were a tangled mass of arms and limbs and suddenly without warning they rolled from the bed and fell to the floor. Carol was on the bottom and felt the brutal impact hard against her back. Bob levered up and straddled her stomach landing blow after blow across her defenseless face. She felt herself losing consciousness and managed to gasp through her pain.
"Bob! Bob! You're killing me! You're killing me!"
He snapped to his senses without speaking and fumbled his belt from his pants. He stood up over her and began lashing it across the whiteness of her belly and wildly heaving breasts. She rolled to her stomach in a desperate attempt to escape the cruel leather cutting into her skin but he placed his foot in the small of her back, pinning her helplessly to the floor, and continued raining the hard frenzied blows across her back and quivering buttocks. Then, as she groaned in pain and humiliation from the excruciating punishment he suddenly stopped as quickly as he had begun.
"Now, baby, I want my two bucks worth," he spat down at her shaking spread-eagle form. "And do it like a whore, not like a wife."
"Oh no, darling, not like this, not like this," she sobbed up at him. The tears streamed now in flowing wet rivulets down the sides of her cheeks and in spite of her pain and pleading she could feel him pulling her legs brutally apart on the rug, not even bothering to lift her to the bed.
He dropped to his knees between her thighs adjusting his hard throbbing cock in his hands. And then, as suddenly as he had begun hitting her before, he fell forward across her body and rammed his cock deep into her still sperm-filled cunt. Though she wasn't prepared for the sudden onslaught, the wetness from the fucking she had just received from Harry Burns lubricated her and eased his otherwise searing entry.
He began immediately to fuck into her with hard brutal strokes, not caring about her pain or tears as she groaned and twisted in agony beneath his flailing body. He reached out to the side of his hips and shoved his hands under the backs of her thighs lifting them up and back until she was bent almost double and her knees scraped the floor up over her shoulders. She groaned again and again in anguish as he thrust into her inhumanly contorted body with long deep strokes that travelled the full length of his hard throbbing penis. His driving loins smacked hard against the plane of her upturned buttocks, buffeting her head harshly back against the side of the bed. The smack of his hips against hers resounded through the room like claps of thunder from a storm building menacingly over the distant mountains.
"Oh, Bob, Bob, you can't, you can't," she moaned on helplessly beneath him.
But there was no response from his growling twisted lips only the pain of an extra hard thrust up against her cervix that Carol was certain had torn her deep inside. She had thought the beginning with Harry Burns before she had lost control of herself was horrible, but this was worse. To lie beneath her own husband and be treated like the lowest of prostitutes, used to vent his own lust and anger against, this was a thousand times more degrading. Her thoughts flowed as though she had no feeling left in her tortured nerve ends, they had been used and raped to the point that nothing came through anymore. There was no pain left in her body to bring forth, only the horrible humiliation and anguish of the hateful rape of her body by her own husband and she lay passively, no longer moving or caring beneath him.
"Move it, bitch," he suddenly commanded through his panting mouth. "I want my two buck's worth."
He dropped his hands to the softness of tier buttocks and cupped them tightly, digging his finger nails hard into the resilient flesh to emphasize with physical pain the words he had spoken.
"Move it," he snarled again when there was no response to his first command. "It's just another fuck like all the others, only I got it coming to me legal like!"
"No, No Bob, it's not true!" she squealed beneath his punishing impalement. "You don't understand! You don't understand!"
"Move it!" he hissed through tightly clenched teeth.
Carol sobbed and began a slow mechanical grinding of her buttocks up against his thrusting loins to escape the painful digging fingers cutting into her flesh. Small red welts followed their path and her shame and humiliation grew with each further moment that brought his orgasm closer. He was going to spew it into her, into her in anger rather than love, and the thought made her wish he had killed her. It would have been far better than this horrible rape of her body by a crazed man that was as much a stranger to her as Harry Burns had been when he had taken her the same way. The only difference was she felt no rising tide of passion overcoming her body now the way it had before, with her neighbor's husband and the strange thought entered her mind that she had rather Harry Burns had done it to her again than be taken by her own husband rutting like a savage primeval animal above her.
He suddenly quickened his thrusts again and jerked into her as though his body had been taken by a spasm of death. He kneaded and dug her flesh beneath him without being conscious of her cries of pain and humiliation. He wanted to destroy her, destroy this dirty bitch who had so deceived him all these years. His cock expanded and grew inside her until he thought it would burst, burst from the hate and anger that ruled his body now. The pain was long and half-sweet until distant moments later it exploded ...
Carol cringed beneath him as she felt the first thin hot spurts of his sperm begin emptying deep into her raw tortured vagina. The dreaded thought that she might get pregnant and not have the faintest idea of which had done it crossed her mind as she felt the warm sticky fluid filling her as Harry Burns sperm had a few minutes before. The twin hot pools mingled evilly together in her quivering belly making her feel more debauched and miserable than she had ever felt in her life.
He crawled from between her legs, a thin trail of sperm trailing from the end of his deflating penis. She lay with her eyes clenched tightly shut, beaten and humiliated on the floor. She made no attempt to move as she heard the sudden harsh sound of his zipper being closed and the last cruel words erupting from his lips.
"You're nothing but a cheating little bitch. And, by God, I'm not going to let you forget it as long as I live."
And then he left the room.
She lay motionless for a long period of time afterwards, unable and not wanting to move. Her legs were still spread wide as he had left them and her loins wet and raw from the dual raping they had just been subjected to. Anyone who wanted to could have come in the room at that moment and dropped down on her and fucked her to their hearts content. She would not have resisted or cared, nothing mattered anymore. Her whole world had exploded cruelly in her face within a matter of the last few hours and the full impact of its awful meaning had not yet penetrated her tortured mind. A few hours ago she was still a faithful and innocent wife who had never had anyone other than her husband and now she lay here with the lewd sperm of two complete strangers, and her husband had been a stranger, lying deep inside the secret recesses of her body.
Oh God, she wished she were dead. She wished they could just come and take her away now and bury her forever so that she would never have to face the horrible, cruel world again. But ... she wasn't. She was alive, perhaps barely, but she was alive and would have to make the best of it.
She moved, pulling her limbs together experimentally to see if she could still control them. The pain and ache was horrible and she winced as she pulled herself slowly to the sitting position, pausing there to allow her aching muscles to adjust to the movement before she put her hands on the side of the bed and pulled herself in anguish to a standing position.
She saw herself in the full length mirror and studied with uncaring detachment the bruises and welts that marked her smooth white skin. She reached up and hesitantly touched her breasts, feeling the dull throb from the marks surrounding her tender nipples aching all the way through her chest as though she had been beaten with a horsewhip.
She stood for a moment longer, eyeing her piteous form in the mirror and suddenly understanding with all her being the feeling of the words she had heard spoken so often: "raped and abandoned." Well, she understood exactly what they meant now, pulling herself to the foot of the bed to pick up her clothes. They were still lying in the piteous heap in which they had fallen when Harry Burns or rather, "Stud Burns," she smiled wryly, had stripped her helpless body naked an eternity ago. A picture of those clothes lying there in the disheveled, unorganized pile could tell without another word the whole story of her sudden downfall. The phrase, "one picture is worth a thousand words," ran crazily through her mind.
She struggled slowly into her wrinkled clothing and opened the door, turning at the same time and taking a final look at the room that would live in her mind forever as the symbol of her shame and degradation. The crumpled two one dollar bills lay still on the bed where her husband had thrown them. As an afterthought, she went back inside and picking them up, stuffed them into her purse.
She walked up the stairs and out of the house without seeing anyone. They were all too pre-occupied with other things. The cold air outside refreshed her a little and she was happy to see the lights in her house were not on. She could not face Bob now and thoughts of packing and leaving tonight before he returned flickered quickly through her mind. But she was too exhausted and beaten to care, besides, she could sleep in the other bedroom and lock the door. He would be too drunk and tired himself from whatever he was doing now to give her any more trouble, tonight anyway.
One thing, she resolved to herself, her life was going to be different from now on and she wasn't going to let her husband out of this easily. He was going to pay for all the indignation he had heaped upon her defenseless body and mind tonight, and ... he was going to pay dearly.
The long high-ceilinged room buzzed with the low, sophisticated conversation of a large intellectual group of people. White-coated waiters hurried through the crowd balancing trays of drinks in their hands and stopping periodically to replenish the supply of those that held empty glasses. A huge fire burned in the Victorian fireplace that was almost as large as the entrance door itself.
Carol marveled at the wealth displayed here. She couldn't recall ever having been in a home that exhibited so much of it, particularly in such subtle quiet taste. The paintings were the most impressive thing about it. Masters, all of them, sat against the reserved background of hand carved walnut paneling. This, she mused, was wealth in its grandest sense.
"And," she listened dutifully as her host spoke, "the Renoir hanging to the right of the mantelpiece has been in our family since the artist painted it. He gave it to my grandmother as a token of her sponsorship of one of his shows in Paris. This of course, was when he was a complete unknown."
"My," she spoke as the short graying man in his late fifties paused to sip from his drink, "your family certainly seems to have an interesting history, Mr. Thurman."
"Please call me, Randy, Carol my dear, we don't stand on formality here," he quickly corrected her.
"All right then, Randy, I will," she smiled sweetly over the top of her glass at Randolph Thurman the Third. His eyes wandering secretly over the curves of her body had not passed her notice.
That's good, she thought, smiling at the polite conversation he kept up in a steady stream to keep her occupied and from wandering away with anyone else. She felt flattered. Most of the men, at one time or another in the hour or so she and Bob had been here, had made one kind of pass or another at her. Strangely enough, she was enjoying her new kind of role in open society. Until last week when she had her eyes opened at the Burns house she had always been the passive one at affairs like this, but no more. This was the new Carol, the new one who knew what the world was all about and how to go about getting it. She and Bob had made their peace after several days of ignoring each other when for some reason Marsha Burns had let slip about the plan with the lipstick on the shirt and the tape recorder. He had almost crawled on his knees apologizing to her and explaining the entire sordid reason he had ended up there in the first place. She had accepted his apology but still refused to move her things back to their bedroom. She had set up house there and pasted the crumpled two dollar bills over her dressing table mirror to remind her of what he had put her through and of what she had vowed as she had stumbled her way into the house after being screwed half senseless by those two wild men that night. She didn't care what the reason was for all that happened, the cold plain fact was, it had happened.
Bob still hadn't realized it but nothing could ever again be quite the same with them. Something had changed in both of them and she was afraid the major change was in herself. She liked the house they were living in and the way the people were able to live who surrounded them. Obviously, to get ahead and stay there Bob would have to do well with them.
Well, she had promised herself that he damn well would, and she would do all in her power to insure that he did.
California was a community property state where the wife had a right to half the husband's earnings and she had made it quite clear to him that she expected her half at the end of each month deposited in her own account. She was going to watch that crumpled two dollars that had started the whole thing grow by leaps and bounds and after it had grown to an amount she thought reasonable, then she would consider where she and Bob stood.
She had made all of this quite clear to him but she was certain he still didn't believe it. Well, tonight she would show him how to land an account without lifting a finger and would make him squirm at the same time. She would show him she meant what she had said.
"Well, my dear," her host said finally, "that is the complete history of my family. What do you think of it?"
"Why it was just a marvelous story, Randy," she lied, hoping against hope he wouldn't ask her any questions about it. She hadn't really heard one word he had said, she had been so busy with her own thoughts. She would have to watch this wandering mind of hers. If she was going to get anywhere with these people she would have to pay attention and learn as much about them as she could.
"Now," he said, patting her shoulder warmly, "I've told you all about myself, let's hear something about you."
"Well," Carol answered with a feigned shyness, "there isn't really much to say. Certainly nothing that would be as interesting as your background."
"Oh I'm certain you're exaggerating. A beautiful woman like yourself certainly hasn't passed all these years in total obscurity."
"Mmmm," she fluttered her eyes at him, "I'm afraid so. Just a quiet little housewife, trying to keep a working husband happy."
"Well, I should say you are doing a fine job, isn't that him over there talking with my wife, Susan?"
Thurman pointed toward the fireplace where Bob was engaged in conversation with the small blonde woman he had met at the Burns and several other couples.
"Why, yes, yes it is." Carol had lost track of him in the last hour as they had each circulated in their own way.
"Your wife is lovely," she added after studying her for a moment.
"Yes, I think your husband likes her too," he smiled with a twinkle in his eye. "He showed quite a preference for her at the Burns' party the other night."
"W-Were you there," she almost dropped her drink in surprise. Bob had told her they were invited to a party at an important prospect's house, but he hadn't explained that he had met them at the Burns' house.
"Yes, I was, dear. And I must say, that was a brilliant little exhibition you and Harry put on for us. I looked all over for you afterwards but you just disappeared."
"I-I was pretty tired. That was my first time, you know," she said recovering her composure rapidly.
"Yes, I know. Harry explained we would have to wear masks for your first initiation and we don't usually follow such formalities in our little get-togethers. I thought at the time it was rather strange and still don't understand, but it isn't important. It did add a little variety to the evening."
"Well," Carol smiled, "Let's just say I was a little shy the first time."
"Are you still?" he grinned across at her.
"Not in the least," she smiled back.
"Good then, we'll work something out later, all right?"
"Mmmmm," she crinkled her nose at him. "I'd love to."
"Your husband has taken quite a shine to Susan, and knowing her, I think she'll keep him occupied."
"Randy," a vengeful thought came to her mind. "Do you think we could do it in the same room. Both couples at the same time I mean?"
"You aren't shy any more, are you my little bunny?" his eyes lit up in surprise. "I suppose we can work it out. We have two double beds in our bedroom and I know Susan won't mind. Will your husband object?"
"No, he won't," she assured, "But let's make it a surprise for him. He's never seen me with another man, except of course, on that screen. You work it out with your wife that she takes him in the room first and turns out the light, all right?"
"My dear, to get you, I'd do anything," he smiled and taking her hand squeezed it tight. "Come now, I want you to meet some of the others before we play."
"Oh Randy," Carol said suddenly, holding him back by the arm. "You do know that Bob is in the investment business, don't you?"
"Of course, I do." He smiled. "You know the people like us stick together and Harry Burns says he's a very competent young man. I'll let him handle all of our business from now on. Providing, of course," he added with a twinkle in his eye, "you're as good to me as you were Harry."
"You promise?"
"Absolutely, first thing Monday morning. But," he added, "I'm not an easy man to please."
Carol shuddered slightly from this statement as she followed behind him toward a group engaged in an animated argument over something. She hoped too much wouldn't be demanded of her, she had never engaged in any unnatural acts such as the thing she had seen Harry Burns' wife doing to Bob the other night but supposed if she drank enough at first and really had to, she could go through with it.
"Gentlemen," Randy said interrupting the conversation. "I'd like to present Mrs. Carol Benson. Her husband is the new investment banking head for Jordan's bank. A very bright young man who is going places from what I hear. I'm going to leave her with you for awhile while I circulate among the guests. But I warn you," he shook his finger good-naturedly, "I saw her first and no hanky panky while I'm doing my duties."
Carol blushed slightly at his statement, but quickly recovered herself as the three men each introduced themselves in turn. She found herself wondering, with a flush inside her, if any of these had seen her obscene performance with Harry Burns the other night. She was sure not all of these people were part of the group as it was too formal to be one of those mass swap things but still she wondered which they were. She would be glad when she found out so she wouldn't find herself blushing every time she met someone new.
"We were just on the subject of Vietnam, Carol. What do you think about it? Our friend, Roger, here is one of those doves that wants us out of there right now, no guarantees, just out."
"Gentlemen," she laughed sweetly, "I'm just a poor ignorant housewife and know nothing about these faraway problems. You fight it out among yourselves."
She could tell that Roger, obviously a professor, was reaching the fighting point. He seemed so intense about his beliefs.
"Listen, Peter, the only thing I'm saying is that we have no right to be in there killing women and children when it has nothing to do with us. Let them decide among themselves how they want their government to be," he said hotly.
"If you feel so humanitarian about it then take a look at what would happen if we did leave them alone. How many South Vietnamese do you think they would execute immediately?"
Peter continued without giving Roger a chance to answer.
"Look how many have died in Russia, China, and Cuba. The first thing these people do is shoot the leaders and they are left with nothing to lead but the sheep. It's easy to bend sheep to your way of thinking. A thinking man like yourself wouldn't live two minutes if they took over."
"That may be true," Roger replied, the blood flowing to his face in disagreement, "but nothing gives us the right to kill people. All those people want to do is live in peace and be left alone."
"Chamberlain was a peace at any price man in 1936 too. That only cost the world some twenty or twenty five million people killed a few years later."
"You mean you would let our country play God and decide to kill thousands of men on the very vague possibility that it might prevent another war? That's ridiculous," he snorted angrily.
"My good boy," Peter ignored his sputtering. "Man is a very imperfect animal and the only guide one has for the future is history. Well history says it has always happened that way. You let them succeed in Vietnam and the rest of Asia will follow within a matter of years. We shall also have lost the faith of all those people who depend on us now. Whether we like it or not, we are playing father to a good part of the world. That's always been the curse of being strong. We have no choice, Roger my boy."
"That still gives us no reason to send our boys over there to be killed."
Carol could see this little argument was likely to end up in a brawl and wished Randy would come back and get her out of it before it happened. She didn't understand the entire thing anyway, except that what Peter was saying seemed to make more sense than Roger's argument. Her eyes searched around the room for Randy and she inadvertently spotted Bob following Susan through the arched door at the far end. She smiled to herself, thinking of the little surprise in store for him later on. This would go a long way toward gaining the revenge she had sworn the other night.
"Roger," Peter continued, "You have got to admit there are a lot worse things than dying. Perhaps you don't think so but I do. For instance, watching your family starve to death or be humiliated consistently. These are the reasons man has had wars from the beginning of time, to protect his family and the things he has worked for."
"They have fought them for big business, that's why they have fought them," Roger objected violently.
"Oh, horsecrap," Peter answered. "Big business is so controlled by government and unions they no longer matter. All the interests are the same. If the country is poor, the businesses in that country are poor; if the businesses are poor, then the people who work for them are poor. It's as simple as that. Why, did you realize," he shook his finger in Roger's face, "that the people in our so-called poverty rolls are better off than ninety percent of the people in the world. That is not something that happens by accident. It's hard work on the part of most people."
"We still have people suffering from malnutrition from not getting the right things to eat," Roger defended.
"Listen, boy, one more point, and then let's get on to something else. In any kind of society you'll find some people that can't make it to the grocery store a block away either because they're too stupid or too lazy. Now you've got to admit that setting up a trucking service to deliver to these people is going just a little bit too far. Make them walk like the rest of us."
Carol breathed a sigh of relief as Randy walked up and slipped his arm through hers just as Roger opened his mouth to thrash back at Peter. It was an argument that she knew would go on all night and she had more important things to do. She had to get that account for Bob and at the same time give him back a little of his own medicine.
"All right, fellows, you'll have to continue your little soap-box speeches without Carol's company," he smiled. "As host of this party I'm exercising my right to be boorish and spirit her away."
Carol followed him gratefully into the next room which was the bar and also Thurman's trophy room. The walls were lined with the mounted heads of most of the big game animals she had read about or seen in the movies. It was quite impressive.
"Thank you for the timely rescue. I'm such a nit when it comes to things like that," she said when they were standing at the bar.
"To be perfectly frank, my dear, so are they. They will stand and talk for centuries about it and never arrive at any kind of conclusion. The silly thing is that they will never do anything about it either-just drink and talk. That's all."
He laughed softly and shook his head. "What will you have?"
"Do you have any of the green drink they served at the party the other night?" she asked hesitantly.
"Of course, we have," and signaled to the barman for two Pernods.
She didn't want to be too open about it but thought she had better have some kind of fortification to go through with this thing. She wasn't that brave just yet and did have some modesty left although she wondered now why she should worry about it with the position a lot of these people, including Thurman, had seen her in the other night. Evidently, they had switched the screen before Bob came in the room as Thurman had not mentioned it. She was grateful for that, it was bad enough that they had seen her with Burns without her husband's brutal assault too.
"You like Pernod?" he smiled at her an understanding tone in his voice.
"I like the feeling it gives, don't you?"
"Yes, normally I do, but tonight I don't think I would really need it."
She smiled as he ran his eyes appreciatively the full length of her body. She could feel a slight throb inside her as he undressed her with his eyes and had to admit to herself that she was looking forward to his making love to her. This would be the first time she had really willingly done it with another man other than her husband and was anxious to see if she would have the same reaction she had had with Burns when he had taken her against her will. The Pernod flowed smooth and cool down her throat and as she drained the glass she could feel it slowly taking hold. Thurman quickly ordered them another, sensing that she was becoming tense as the time drew nearer. He didn't want any changes of mind now. He had waited patiently all week for this chance after his wife had told him she had met the girl's husband at the party and invited them here tonight.
"Susan should have our husband pretty well under way by now," Thurman said to her over the top of his glass. "And, my dear, I'm getting pretty impatient too. I've looked forward to this all week," he confessed.
"I am too, now that I've seen you," Carol lied. She was still a little nervous but felt her courage returning rapidly with each sip of the milky white drink. Strange what it did to her person, she thought and remembered with bitter memory the lewd, obscene spectacle she must have made out of herself last week when she had lost control of herself and turned into a wild, frenzied animal. She wondered if it would happen this time and found herself hoping it would with Bob in the room. Anyway, this time it would be she who was doing it and not the drink or shock from discovering her husband with another man's wife.
"I'm ready," she smiled, a little uncertainly in her voice.
"Then drink up," Thurman said, "and follow me. We should catch them right in the middle of it."
Carol tipped her drink and drained the glass, grateful for the warm lighthearted feeling it brought. Thurman took her hand and led her through a side door out the bar and up a flight of thickly carpeted stairs. He turned right at the landing and they walked along a hallway with many doors until they reached the end of the corridor.
"Voila, our bedroom."
He opened the door just enough for them to squeeze through without letting in too much light. Inside he took their glasses and she heard him place them somewhere in the darkness. She strained her ears to see if there were other noises in the room and felt herself begin to shake slightly from the first strange experience of going of her own free will into a room with a strange man for the purpose of making love to him. She listened harder. There was no sound.
"I don't hear them," she whispered to Thurman as she felt him return to her side and touch her arm.
"It's a suite of rooms," he whispered back, "The bedroom is off to the right."
She expected him to take her hand and lead her there but instead his arms pulled her to him and his lips came moistly down on hers, his tongue probing wetly into her mouth. She sucked on it gently letting her body melt into his in the darkness. She could feel herself begin to tremble from the excitement of another man's kiss and her nervousness slowly faded. He held the kiss long and hard and she could suddenly feel a slight jerk where his loins pressed into the softness of her stomach. He was getting hard and she sensed a sudden tensing in her own breasts as the tips were smashed hard against his chest.
"My God, I want to fuck you," he breathed into her ear.
The word strangely excited her as it had when Harry Burns had first used it last week but this time it wasn't a fearful excitement, it was one she welcomed. She reached down between their bodies and boldly stroked his penis feeling more wicked than she ever had before. The tingling in her breasts dropped to her thighs and danced there magically for a moment as he sucked in his breath from her touch.
"Take your dress off," he whispered hoarsely, unable to wait any longer. He guided her to a chair that she could just barely make out in the dimness of the light coming through the windows. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness now and she could distinguish the darkened forms of the furniture.
Carol's hands trembled as she reached behind her and slid the zipper silently down from her neck to her buttocks. She lifted the dress over her head and dropped it softly back across the couch. She reached behind her again and unsnapped the brassiere, gasping suddenly, as the cool rush of air touched the tips of her breasts causing the tiny rounded nipples to jump into erection. She dropped it to the seat of the couch. Her near nakedness sent wicked chills through her flesh, exciting her as she had never been excited before. The thought that she would soon be writhing in passion under this man she hardly knew in a bed next to her husband added to the forbidden thrill. She could hear Thurman next to her struggling rapidly from his clothing and she smiled at his obvious impatience to get at her. Yes, she was going to enjoy tonight more than she ever had anything in the world.
He reached for her in the darkness, his hands coming into contact with the nakedness of her shoulder first, the coolness of his hands causing her to jump.
"No, not yet," she whispered. "I still have my panties and stockings on."
"Leave your stockings and high heels on, we'll turn the light on later and I want to see you like that."
She stripped her panties down over the fullness of her hips and thighs and stepped from them, dropping them with her other clothes on the couch.
Thurman's hands reached out again in the darkness and began running over her naked flesh. She stood still, her arms at her sides, trembling from the wicked sensations running through her. He dropped his head to her breast, cupping it in his hand, and sucked the tiny throbbing nipple deep into his wet mouth. Carol groaned and swayed in the darkness, almost falling.
"Don't, don't do it here." She pushed his head away reluctantly. "I want you to do it where my husband can hear us."
Without speaking, he took her hand quickly and led her through a door at the side of the room. It was darker here as the blinds were closed and no light at all came through the windows. He stopped for a moment to get his bearings and Carol held her breath.
She could hear them!
They were small sounds, scarcely audible even in the almost total silence of the big room, but ... they were unmistakable sounds. Slight wet sucking noises that she had heard for the first time in her life last week. Thurman's wife was doing the same thing to Bob that Harry Burns' wife had been doing last week.
Oh God, would Thurman expect the same thing from her. She felt herself wishing she had drunk more of the Pernod to make things easier. She couldn't refuse him anything he asked now and a small ball of fear began growing in her stomach that she might not be able to bring herself to do it. He had said he was going to be hard to please and she wondered apprehensively what demands he would place on her.
They reached the empty bed and he guided her down gently onto the silken coverlet spread over it. She had never felt anything like the sensation the first touch of it across her back gave her. It was almost like felt and was warm from the first contact when she had expected it to be cold. She wriggled her back against it cat-like as she felt the bed sag from his weight as he lay down next to her. He made no attempt to keep his movements quiet and she was certain Bob and Susan could hear them but it only added to the excitement that she was going to get herself screwed silly while he lay listening to all the sounds she made. She waited quietly for a moment as Thurman pressed his nakedness next to hers for some sound that would indicate they had disturbed them but there was none. The soft wet sucking noises continued unabated as though they were unaware of anyone else's presence.
"Ooooooh, God," she suddenly groaned forgetting her husband on the next bed.
Thurman's wet moist lips had begun a gentle nibbling along her shoulder sending goose-bumps racing over her flesh. She quivered uncontrollably from the sudden unexpected sensation and dropped her hand between them grasping his hard erected cock in her hands. She heard him groan in return as she pushed against it with her fingers sliding the foreskin back over the round rubbery head.
"I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk tonight," he hissed between clenched teeth. "God, you've got a body."
Carol smiled to herself through the sensations of desire building deep in her belly. Her husband must have heard that and now she would make certain he knew it was her.
"Oh God, Randy, I want you to fuck me. Fuck me good, please. I need it bad."
She moaned with a false passion, hearing with quiet satisfaction, the sudden stillness on the other bed. And then ... a feminine voice pleading:
"Oh keep sucking Bob, lick it, lick it. Don't stop, darling!" It whispered through the room in desperation and then she heard the sounds of movement as though someone were struggling to pull someone back to them ... and then ... the wet sucking sounds again but quieter this time.
Carol's breath stopped. Bob was sucking her! It was not the other way around!
It was the last controlled thought she had. Thurman's hot moist mouth fastened tightly to an erected nipple and began a gentle sucking pressure against it. His hands coursed lightly at the same time over the soft firmness of her belly and thighs. His mouth played for a long delicious moment around the throbbing tits, moving from one to the other, his tongue trailing wetly down through the narrow fleshy valley between them as he alternated his attention to each.
And then, his mouth slid down over her now quivering belly, his penis sliding from her hand as his body moved away. He ground his tongue for a moment into her navel, bringing small mewls and gasps of pleasure from her open mouth. He moved lower, maddening patterns of indecent sensation trailing after his gently nipping teeth. She felt her thighs being pressed gently open and she made no resistance as he haunched down between them. She sucked in her breath with a gasp as she felt his fingers spreading the soft hair covered lips of her vagina and the coolness of the air touched against her there. His tongue flicked forward, the tip teasing moistly against the tiny bud of her clitoris causing it to throb into hardness. He lowered his fingers and spread the opening of her cunt wide apart and then suddenly dropping his tongue from her clitoris, thrust it deep into the pink, moist flesh of her pussy.
Carol jerked from the sudden wet contact and reaching down tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his face hard into her loins. His tongue circled around maddeningly inside her, the tip flicking against the wet sensitive walls of her pussy like the tongue of a cobra prepared to strike.
"Ooooooooh," a long low groan escaped from deep in her throat, "It's good darling, it's good, do it more, do it more!"
She chanted the words out without thought, her breasts heaving against her chest. Her legs splayed out wide and she jack-knifed her knees up hard against her swaying breasts to open her cunt as wide as she could to him. He pulled the upturned crevice of her crotch wide apart with his hands, stretching it cruelly as he heard her begging for more, and dropping his tongue to the small tight puckered anus, thrust the tip hard against it until he felt it give slightly and the tip enter just a hair. She fairly shrieked her joy now as he teased against the tightness of her rectum.
"Randyeee! Randyeeeeee! Oh God, Oh God!"
He moistened the top of his finger in her cunt and pressed it against the tight little hole, his mouth returning to her clitoris, and as he nibbled against it he thrust forward with his finger sinking it to the first knuckle in her anus.
"Uuuugh!" she grunted.
He thrust it to the second knuckle.
"Uuuuuuugh! Darling it hurts! It hurts!"
He held it still and thrust his tongue deep up her vagina again until she became accustomed to the strange presence in her asshole.
She lay still, holding her breath with her mouth wide open, her lips drawn back tight over her teeth. Then after an eternity, she began to breathe again. He began to lick and suck in earnest now, twisting his finger around and around in her rectum, stretching it wider with each brutal circle until the pain in her rear passage merged with the powerful pleasures coursing through her pussy and she began thrusting her white rounded buttocks back up on his finger, skewering it into herself in rhythm with the lashing of his tongue. He slid his free hand up under her upraised buttocks and pressed them tight against his face, locking her to him in a wet moist connection of tongue and vagina. The soft curly pubic hair grazed tantalizingly against his cheeks.
A strange masochistic wildness had taken hold of her body as she lay impaled between his tongue and finger and she ground her ass in wild abandoned ecstasy hard up against the maddening probing of her hot steaming loins. Nothing mattered now but the agony of the lovely swirling sensations rippling over every inch of her naked flesh. There was nothing else in the world and she writhed and twisted beneath his impalement gasping and screaming all the lewd words that came into her tortured and anguished mind.
"Oh God, Randy! Suck me! Lick me! Ram your finger in my ass! Harder! Harder darling! Oooooh! Eeeeeegh! Aaaaahg!"
Thurman worked demon-like below hearing her cries approaching a quick climax. By God, Burns was right, she was a hot little bitch, he thought through the blind passion of bringing a tender young beauty like this to orgasm. He had waited his chance and it was worth it all. He flicked his tongue faster and ground his finger with greater severity into the ever-expanding hole of her anus.
Her body worked beneath his, her thighs spasmodically opening and closing on the sides of his head. He could feel their warm soft resilience press tightly against his ears as she would jerk involuntarily from an extra deep flick of his tongue in her cunt.
He felt her belly begin to rise and fall more quickly, her head flailing out of control from side to side on the mattress, her long blonde hair lashing about the bed like a whip.
He thrust his tongue deeper.
Her thighs pressed tighter into the sides of his head, tighten and softening in rhythm to the thrusting of his punishing tongue. He knew she was on the brink of orgasm ... not quite there ... but hanging on the verge. Her breasts heaved and danced on her chest wildly, her fingers twisted crazily in his hair. Her head stopped its flailing and tensed as she arched her back, the cords in her neck standing out like steel-tendons. Her face contorted and a low guttural scream rumbled deep in her throat, choked off at the last moment by a long soulful gasp that reminded one of a dying animal.
"Aaaah," and then again,"Aaaaah!"
Carol felt as though she were losing her insides as the fluid of her orgasm started deep in her belly and gushed out with a roar around his still thrashing tongue and out into his face. She could feel it running wetly down the crevice of her buttocks, around the finger sunk in her anus, and down to the covers below.
She gave one last great gasp and collapsed down into the mattress, dropping her legs like heavy weights of lead to each side of his body. She could not move. The world had ended and she had been consumed in the last great cataclysmic fire that was the destruction of everything living. She lay absolutely immobile, her arms and legs splayed out uselessly like a rag-doll in either side of her body. Thurman lay still also with his head pillowed in the softness of her wet, blonde pubic hair between her legs. They panted out their exhaustion together for a long moment and then Thurman crawled up over her and pressed his open mouth tightly against hers. She could feel the wetness and intensity of her orgasm on his cheeks and thrust her tongue deep in his mouth in a wordless gesture of thanks for the indescribable journey he had just taken her on.
"Rest for a moment, darling," he whispered into her mouth, "and then I want you to do me."
She nodded her head gently in agreement his mouth still locked tightly to hers. She knew this was the moment she should have dreaded, but now it seemed such a small thing to do for this man who had brought such wild, delicious response from her. She had done it with him just for revenge against Bob, but instead, he had shown her what one person could really give to another. She wanted to do it for him, she wanted with all her heart to repay him for this ultimate kindness he had bestowed on her.
Through the darkness, she could hear the soft mewling pleadings of Thurman's wife. She laughed softly to herself. Bob had a long way to go and a lot to learn if he were going to compete with the likes of the other two men she had had in the short space of this last week. Even Harry Burns had his good points as a lover, in a brutal kind of way, but he had made her come in spite of her resistance to him. There was a lot to say for that.
Thurman lay with his leg thrown over her, his chin nestled against her shoulder as their breathing subsided. The wet sucking noises of Bob's lovemaking to Thurman's wife filtered through the room in a low continuous rhythm. They were punctuated by the low moaning noises of her passion. Periodically, as he thrust his tongue forward extra vigorously, a slight whimper of surprised delight would erupt from her lips. The symphony of sounds excited Thurman more. Carol could feel his already hardened prick lying across her thigh throb almost in unison to the sound of his wife's groans.
"Are you ready, darling?" she whispered in his ear, the sounds exciting her as she knew they were him.
"Yes," he whispered back eagerly, "Are you rested enough?"
"Yes, darling, but I want you to promise me one thing before I begin." She cupped his ear in her hands so that not a sound could be heard on the next bed. "I-I want you to turn on the light just before you cum. Is there a switch by the bed?"
"Yes, there is a wire with a switch on it right here. I can hold it in my hand. But why not now if you want it on? Susan wouldn't mind."
"Never mind," she whispered low, "You've promised. Now, turn over on your back."
Carol was surprised at her own boldness as she told him what to do but she could think of no greater punishment for Bob than to suddenly find he was watching another man shoot his sperm deep in his wife's mouth while he stood helplessly by unable to do a thing. The thought of doing that to a man no longer repelled her as her own loins were still moist and warm from the pleasures he had just conferred upon her and anything that made a person feel that good could not be as degrading an act as it seemed.
She began slowly as he had, first running her tongue down the hollows of his neck and to his chest. She found the small male nipples and nipped gently at them not sure they would respond. To her pleasant surprise, they did and she could feel him twist slightly from the strange sensation. She did not know much about the male body and worked slowly to learn. With one hand she reached down and grasped his hardened penis between her fingers as she worked lower and lower with her tongue licking wetly at his flesh. She remembered the wild sensations that had run through her own body when he had licked at her navel and conferred the same on him, running her tongue hotly around inside it until she felt his stomach begin to heave beneath her. He was hairy and she could feel the soft wiriness of it against her lips and face as she moved. She dropped one hand down lower and grasped his hardened penis tightly between her fingers, drawing back the foreskin in a teasing motion that brought other louder moans from his lips.
The position was growing more uncomfortable as she worked lower so she crawled over him, pushed his legs apart and kneeled on all fours between his thighs. her feet hung over the end of the bed.
Her face was over his loins now and she continued the gentle skinning back and forth of his ever hardening cock. Her lips were a bare inch away from the tip and she opened her mouth and breathed softly against it, allowing her hot breath to flow over the cool tip with a maddening slowness.
"Oooooh God, suck it now, baby," she heard him groan above her. His words excited her as she knew her husband next to them would hear and she found herself sadistically wishing she could see his face as he realized she was doing this lewd obscene thing, willingly, to another man.
She wanted to punish Bob as he had never been punished before.
Her tongue flicked out, the tip coming into warm wet contact with the head of his cock. She circled it about the smooth, rubbery flesh as he groaned and twisted above from the cruel teasing she was subjecting him to. The tip of her slowly searching tongue found the tiny opening of the gland at the end and darted wetly into it. It was already moist from the tiny droplets of seminal fluid seeping through from his rising excitement. The sharp pungent taste and odor caused her mouth to salivate and her nostrils to flare slightly. Her hands dropped to the base of the huge erected prick and she cupped his soft, smooth testicles gently with one of them, grazing her nails tantalizingly over the hairy flaccid flesh. The other hand she placed at the thick base of his cock where it soared from the curly black pubic hair covering his lower stomach. She pinched it between her thumb and forefinger and pulled down hard, skinning back the foreskin until the large red throbbing head stood alone and naked against the softness of her lips. She began planting moist warm kisses around it, beginning at the tip and tracing a path down the full length of it to the base and then wetly back up to the tip again. She played longer than she knew she should, not being able just yet, to bring herself to take it in her mouth.
But Thurman could stand it no more. With a gurgle deep in his throat he reached down with his hands, tangled them in her hair, and thrust his loins up with the strength of a bull. Carol resisted for a moment, doubts running wildly through her mind, but it was too late. The thick spongy head rammed inside, crushing through her soft moist lips, between the whiteness of her teeth and into the moist saliva of her mouth. She could feel the spongy stiff substance rub the full length of her tongue almost imbedding itself deep in her throat.
She closed her eyes to keep from choking. Saliva seemed to fill her mouth, all of it, except that filled by Thurman's great fleshy rod, now protruding banana-like from her ovaled shaped lips.
"Oooooh, god honey, your mouth is like butter," she heard him murmur as he began a slow rhythmic undulation of his hips up into her face.
"Tighten your lips and suck harder," he hissed from above, his voice coarse and thick from passion.
Carol did his bidding, feeling at the same time the excitement growing again in her own body from the mean, debasing thought of her mouth being used this way by Thurman as Harry Burns had used her cunt before. She sucked demon-like, swishing her tongue with vengeance around and around the throbbing head sliding in and out of her ovaled lips ... She sucked to end it, her head bobbing like a cork in the stormy seas over his pumping loins. The masochistic joy of being used, used like a dirty whore, permeated her body in tingling submissive mewling sounds that came from her lips locked tightly around his thrusting cock. He was going to pump his lewd white sperm into it until it ran from the edges of her lips in sticky white trails of blissful sensation that could be matched by nothing else in the world.
And ... when that moment came ... when it came
Bob, damn him, would see it all ... her cunt throbbed momentarily at the thought as her mouth clung wetly to Thurman's cock screwing mercilessly into her face ...
Earlier, Bob had let Thurman's wife lead him into the same darkened room. He had wanted to turn on the light so that he could see her nakedness when she shed her clothing but for some reason she would not allow it. He had not been aware of the earlier conversation that had gone on between her and her husband about bringing both he and Carol into the room at the same time. He had stripped his clothing from his body quickly in the darkness as she had waited on the bed urging him to hurry. His head whirled slightly from too much drink and he had not protested when the moment he stretched beside her she opened her legs wide and guided his head down between them.
He had never made love to a woman like this before though in the heat of passion he had tried with Carol many times. But she had always, in her puritanical way, pushed him off. He parted the softness of Susan's vagina with his thumbs and found his nostrils suddenly flaring from the sweet, soft odor that arose from her body.
It was jasmine.
"Kiss my cunt, darling," she had purred above him, her fingers stroking softly through his hair.
He had flicked out his tongue experimentally and felt her jerk and quiver slightly as it came into contact with the smooth moist flesh exposed between the narrow, thin slit of her vagina. He licked gently at the hardening little clitoris snuggled just above the wide-stretched entrance to her cunt where it gave him a sudden sense of power as it brought further jerks from her body and greater moans sifting through her lips.
He pressed his thumbs farther apart pulling the ragged moist edges of the slit open further. His tongue traced a path up and down the full length searching out the wet hidden crevices between her legs. He gradually warmed to the task as he became more and more familiar with the tiny erogenous zones of her loins and felt her breathing increasing in intensity. His sense of power grew with the familiarity and he found himself teasing for a moment at a particular sensitive area, listening to her impatient mewling above him, then flicking his tongue forward at the last minute when he sensed she could wait no longer.
The groans and twisting increased until he pressed his head forward and thrust his tongue out lizard-like sinking it deep into the wet opening of her pussy. There was weird, soulful cry from her lips and then a slow, set grinding of her loins up against his face began. Her hands tangled tight in his hair, kept his face imprisoned between her rotating thighs as though held by steel bands.
His cock hardened on the cover below and his own loins began a slow thrusting against the spread, rubbing the full tortured length of his rising penis against the softness of the mattress. The tingling sensation rising in his own belly from the pressure against his cock and the sweet, soft odor of Susan's warm fleshy cunt grinding on his face, blotted out the fears he had had of leaving Carol alone downstairs. He had wanted to stay close to her to prevent a recurrence of last week but Thurman's wife had been so insistent on showing him the house and then of getting him into bed he didn't dare to refuse. He had promised Jordan he would have more accounts to follow Burns and didn't dare go back on his word. They had come to expect things of him at the bank and he had to produce now or else.
"Ooooh, move your tongue a little faster, darling," she purred again bringing his mind back to the task at present. He quickened his thrusts feeling her buttocks increasing their speed slightly.
"Put your hands under my ass and draw me closer, darling," she breathed heavily.
Bob slid his hands down from between her thighs and cupped them under the smooth rounded globes pulling her crotch up tighter into his face. He could feel tiny dewdrops of moisture forming against his cheeks on the edges of the soft pubic hair surrounding his lips. He nipped gently with his teeth into soft fleshy folds surrounding the widening hole and reveled in the tiny squeal it brought from her throat. He was enjoying this power he possessed over her and worked to show his complete domination of her every breath. His tongue slavered on and on in the moistness of her loins, increasing little by little in speed and depth until he had brought her to the point of absolute subjugation to the whims of his flicking tongue.
Then, as he licked and sucked between her yawning, open thighs like a hungry, mewling child he heard a sudden noise behind him in the darkness of the room. His first impulse was to raise his head and see what it was but the strength of her hands holding his face tight into her loins prevented him.
He heard the noise again, closer this time as though someone were struggling quietly on the bed next to them. The smoothness of naked skin rustled against the bed cover punctuated by low, excited whispers. He closed his eyes and continued the thrusting of his tongue into Thurman's wife's cunt and then opened them again and tried to see through the darkness to the next bed. It was too dark and he closed them again, thinking why should he bother. It was probably some couple trying to find a place of their own. He hurried his sucking of her cunt hoping to satisfy her quickly as a sudden thought of Carol being alone downstairs with all those others crossed his mind. If they were dragging the women off to the bedrooms already she might be in trouble. He was not so certain she would resist it as hard this time either, from the strange things she had been saying all week, and he just couldn't bear to go through all that again. This is why he had allowed Thurman's wife to pull him off by himself so early in the evening. Now, he could get his duty over with before Carol got suspicious or got herself involved in something she couldn't handle again.
His thoughts were interrupted by a series of soulful gasps. It sounded like a woman in pain. He stopped for a moment, holding his breath. He wondered if he should continue but his question was answered by a tightening of Susan's fingers in his hair. His tongue snaked forward again into her soft, warm,, liquid depths as he heard a distinct female murmur followed by the sound of heavy male breathing. God, it was another couple and they were going to make love right next to them. They must have either drunk a lot, or been so fired up they couldn't hear, if they hadn't noticed he and Thurman's wife in the room before them.
"Oooooo, God," he heard in a heavy throated female whisper, barely audible even in the almost total silence of the darkness.
"I'm gonna fuck you till you can't walk ...'
Thurman's voice followed in an equally soft murmur. "Oh God Randy, I want you to fuck me ... fuck me ... please ... need it bad!"
Bob's tongue froze in Susan's cunt as he heard the familiar pleading voice of his own wife begging their host to fuck her in the next bed. He couldn't believe his ears for a moment until he was shocked back into reality by Susan's pleading shriek above him: "... keep sucking, Bob, lick it... don't stop!"
Her legs jerked out over his shoulders and her thighs wrapped around his head pulling his face back into her crotch wet and hard. His face flushed as he realized she had screamed his name and Carol would know. He sucked to keep her from screaming again and listened for some sign that she knew he was there and had pushed the man away ... there was none ... just the continued rustling of naked bodies against the mattress and the wet moist sounds of lips slavering out of control across soft bare flesh. Oh God, he hoped she wasn't sucking him but he didn't dare raise his head from Susan's wildly grinding buttocks to find out. She would shriek again and if Carol hadn't heard it last time she would the next. But anyway, she must know someone was here now. How could she do whatever she was doing knowing someone else was in the same room and listening to every sound she made?
He wished he could see them. Was she lying on top of him straddling him with her legs open? Was she completely naked or had she just lifted her dress up over her hips as Marsha had done to him when they were watching that movie? His tortured mind formed a thousand lewd obscene pictures of his wife lying in the darkness next to him with her dress pulled up over her hips and lying back on the mattress with her legs spread obscenely open while Randy Thurman plundered her soft, defenseless cunt with his hands and mouth. Or ... was she haunched over him, her head bobbing up and down with his thick hard cock shoved into her clean, soft mouth. He groaned and pushed face as tight as he could into the warm moistness of Thurman's wife's pussy trying to drive from his mind the anguished thoughts. His tongue lashed at her like the eye of a storm building into a wild uncontrollable tempest that would suddenly erupt and devour them all ... he sucked to hurt her like her husband was his own wife ... he sucked to forget ... to drive out the noise of blind, inhuman sounds beginning to erupt from Carol's tortured throat so close to him. She sang and crooned in an abandoned ecstasy that he had never been able to bring from her, that she had never accepted from him in all the times he had made love to her. At times he thought she was in pain and he bit cruelly into Susan for revenge, but at other times she cooed softly like a kitten being stroked into submission and he nibbled gently to return that being done to his wife as best he knew how.
God, he was getting excited. Excited from the wet sucking noises coming from Thurman's licking tongue as he plundered the very depths of Carol's hot steaming pussy. And suddenly, without realizing it, he forgot it was his wife, he forgot it was another man bringing cries of pain and pleasure from her lust contorted lips. It was just a woman, a hot passion-crazed woman writhing and twisting in the throes of the act of a sexual coupling as old as time itself. He felt his cock throbbing and aching against the covers below, his testicles felt swollen and angry at their neglect and he could feel small droplets of cum begin oozing from the tip of his cock wetting the mattress beneath where it had rubbed. It jerked when suddenly he heard her cries and pleadings for further and further indignities to be heaped upon her. He moaned in piteous masochistic torture as Randy followed her screams and rammed his small fat finger deep into her unplundered and virginal anus.
And, she begged for more! He was sucking her!
He heard her murmuring obscene words, words he didn't know she knew, broken and slurred, mixed with the animal-like mutterings of passion from deep in her lungs. She groaned incessantly and he could hear the rustling of her naked skin against the bed as it twisted and turned beneath Thurman's licking tongue. He could picture her with her face wildly contorted in abandoned ecstasy, her body bent double with the toes of her feet touching the bed up over her shoulders, her loins presented up in defenseless sacrifice to his voraciously sucking mouth.
And then, then she emitted a sudden unearthly squeal that was low and sharp and sounded as though he were killing her except that Bob knew he wasn't the was at the point of orgasm and the bed next to him groaned and creaked beneath her wild thrashing. The wet sucking noises coming from his wife's widespread and open crotch filled the room as Thurman licked and sucked her pussy faster and faster with his tireless lizard-like tongue.
Her heard her voice gasping, "Aaaah, Aaaaaaaaah," and then it trailed off to a small almost helpless cry of piteous whimpering as she moaned out her completion through her tortured lips.
Bob's body was tense, and he sucked harder against Thurman's wife's open loins trying to no avail to kill the furious aching desire building in his cock below as he heard his wife being debauched as she had never been debauched before.
He heard her breath deeply, a sigh escaping from far down inside her still heaving chest. She gave small occasional cries of further sensation as her teasing lover nipped for a moment longer at the still throbbing bud of her tiny erect clitoris.
There was silence for a moment, broken only by the heavy spent breathing coming from the other bed.
He listened intently to see if they would stop or go on to something else as equally dirty and sordid as the act they had just performed. His own sucking of Thurman's wife's cunt was forgotten now and he continued as an automaton. His interest was on the next bed and he had to hold himself back to keep from leaping the short distance between the two and raping his own wife where she lay. God, he wanted to fuck her now. He wanted to bring the same responses from her lips that Thurman had, he wanted to show her he could do it too and just as well.
There was a rustle of the bedspread and the soft sound of a naked body twisting around on it. Soft whispers that he could not make out drifted across in the silence. They were re-arranging themselves and he could hear the slight squeak of the bedsprings as someone moved and crawled about on the bed. Then, there was the audible sound of heavy, coarse male breathing becoming more and more excited by the second. He was whispering things that Bob could not make out clearly but from their tone alone sounded lewd and forbidden. Then suddenly, there was a gasp from Thurman's lips as though he were in sudden pain, his voice broke through the darkness like a knife, loud and clear so that Bob could not mistake their cruel sadistic meaning.
"Ooooh God, your mouth is like butter."
Bob groaned into Susan's wet gyrating cunt and clenched his eyes tightly shut wishing to blot out the horrible picture forming in his mind of his wife's sweet virginal lips slipping obscenely down over Thurman's glistening, thick cock. This was the ultimate humiliation, lying here with his face pressed tightly between another woman's thighs as his own beautiful, innocent wife sucked another man right on the next bed.
"Tighten your lips and suck harder," he heard Thurman hiss through passion-clenched teeth. He jerked his head up, forcing it from Susan's clinging hands and tried to peer through the darkness. He could see nothing but his imagination ran wild, the low dim form of Carol haunched on all fours over Thurman's grinding loins with his cock buried deep in her mouth, emerged clearly in his mind. She was not fighting it and low soft muffled mewls of pleasure drifted across the room from her cock-filled mouth.
Bob could stand no more. He had to fuck her. He had to participate in this lewd awful rape of her body, and it was rape, even if she didn't fight it, it had to be. She would never let herself be used in this way if it weren't. But even as he prayed that it was, further mewls of pleasure groaned from Carol's lips as the tempo of the wet sucking sounds she was making with her mouth increased.
"Don't leave me! Don't leave me, darling." Susan ground, fighting desperately with her hands to draw his head back down between her wide-spread thighs. But, Bob twisted away ignoring her pleas, the wet sucking noises Carol was making with her ovaled lips and the grunts of pleasure coming from Thurman's mouth as she labored over him were too much. Forgot ten was the account, forgotten was Jordan's possible anger if he lost it. He was a wild uncontrolled animal now that wanted nothing more than to ram his aching tortured cock into the girl next to him. He wanted to punish her as she was punishing him by her obscene submission to the man on the next bed. He rose from the end of the bed where his legs were hanging over the edge and half stumbled toward the sucking noises in the darkness. He banged his shin painfully against the corner of the bed but ignored it in his frenzy. He thrust his hands out in front of him feeling in the air toward the sounds and where he thought the end of the other bed should be.
There was an abrupt inhale of breath and the sucking noises stopped as his hands came into electrifying contact with soft swaying flesh. It stilled for a moment and then, with what he thought was a soft muffled laugh, began again. He probed experimentally with his fingers, digging them harshly into the flaccid giving skin. He found her backbone, the tiny ridges standing out from the humped-over position she was kneeling in. He followed it slowly down toward her buttocks until he came into warm contact with the crevice of her ass. It was hanging right over the end of the bed and swaying high in the air, her knees wide-apart on the edge of the mattress. He moved around directly behind her running his hands over the smooth white cheeks of her soft buttocks. He could feel them quivering under his touch from the movement of her head below as she bobbed and twisted her face, her lips still locked tightly around Thurman's ever-growing prick.
Bob gritted his teeth, tiny droplets of sweat beginning to roll from his forehead and with his thumbs he drew the soft flexing crevice of her ass wide apart. He ran the middle finger of one hand down the entire length of it, feeling it still wet and open from Thurman's saliva and her own orgasmic fluids that had gushed so wildly from it a few moments before. He thrust his finger into her cunt, feeling her jerk slightly forward from the sudden invasion. A deeper mewl came from her throat but she did not let up with her sucking of Thurman's cock for an instant.
God, she's hot, ran through his mind and caused his already aching penis to throb again in anticipation of ramming it in between the beautifully shaped mounds of her buttocks. Again, the lewd thought of fucking Carol from behind while another man fucked into her mouth from the front overcame the shame and humiliation of her wanton submission to Thurman. He slipped his hand from her cunt and pried the full rounded moons wide apart and leaned forward. His prick made electrical contact with the soft sparse pubic hair covering the slim folds of tender young flesh which enfolded her vagina. He gasped, as he felt her hand reach back under her body, her fingers gently enfolding his thick shaft. She moved it up and down for a moment, parting the softness of the blonde pubic hair and then guided him gently forward. He let his hips move to the slight tug until with a sudden groan that began in the tips of his toes, the warm moist flesh of her vagina popped teasingly over the head like a tight fitting glove. He could feel the softness of the curly, soft lining of pubic hair brushing teasingly around it where it entered her.
Bob could hold back no longer, he threw back his head and rammed forward, his cock flooding into his kneeling wife like a great tide, tearing and bursting everything in its path, deeper and deeper until his loins smacked hard against her upturned ass. He could feel the white soft cheeks flattened out from the wide-split crevice towards her hips from the pressure he was exerting into her backside. He convulsively reached forward, clasping his hands tightly around her narrow wasp-like waist where it flared down into her broad well-formed hips, and held her tight so that she could not move.
A low muffled moan came from her lips, distorted in sound by the huge thick cock throbbing deep in her throat and she tried to squirm forward to escape the deep and sudden impalement of her wide-held pussy. She was held vice-like, skewered between Thurman's cock buried deep in her throat, and that of her own husband grinding deep into her upheld backside from the rear.
Thurman, lying beneath her, held her head trapped tightly between his hands, his legs splayed out wide on either side of her knees. He thrust his cock mercilessly into her mouth, forcing her lips apart with each upward jerk until almost the whole of his rigid flesh was swallowed in her mouth. At the other end, Bob surged into her with long deep strokes into the wet throbbing slit between her buttocks which hollowed and shook beneath his hands as though she were being beaten with a whip.
Thurman's hand suddenly clenched above involuntarily from the spasms building in his body and the light switch he held in his hand closed with a click. The darkened room was without warning bathed in light from the lamp that flashed on by the side of the bed.
No one noticed it or cared.
Bob swung his head from side to side as he rammed his cock deeper and deeper from behind into Carol's stretched and open cunt and suddenly caught a side view of the lewd horrible scene in the huge mirror of the dresser that stood a few feet from the bed. He groaned in anger and frustration as the obscene picture of his wife being buffeted between the two of them in the subservient kneeling position she was in became clearer to his eyes. He could see Thurman's huge thick rod disappearing and re-appearing between her sucking fish-like lips, her long disheveled hair flowing down over her head to lie in a soft pool on his round, hair-covered belly. Her firm, white tits danced and shook below her heaving chest as though they had strings attached to the nipples and a puppet master quivered them from above.
On the other side, he could see Thurman's wife, Susan, watching them with her eyes opened wide and smoky from the effect the licentious sight was having on her. Her legs were spread loosely apart and drawn up in a crab-like position with three fingers of one hand thrust far down in her cunt. Her other hand massaged her own breasts in wild circular motions as she worked vicariously in time to the cruel buffeting of Carol's body impaled between Bob and her husband.
He wanted to cry, to scream and pull his wife's suddenly insatiable body from between them but he could not. His prick ached and throbbed inside her clasping pussy and he couldn't bear to pull it from the soft, tight, hot moistness. Instead, he watched hypnotized in the mirror as the tempo increased by the second.
Unconsciously, he began following the rhythm Thurman was setting with his merciless sawing in and out of her mouth. Wilder and wilder the two of them became, punishing Carol mercilessly between them. Their thick hoarse groans intermingled, Carol's muffled and muted from the fleshy rod stuffing the cavern of her mouth. She lolled limply between them, allowing herself to be used as they would, following their beat in the swirling of her tongue around Thurman's almost exploding cock.
And then it came!
A deep, half-human scream erupted from Thurman's throat and he locked his hands hard around the back of Carol's bobbing head, drawing it deep down on his rigidity until all Bob could see left of his cock was a small bit at the base protruding wet and glistening from his wife's wildly sucking lips. He watched in horrified awe as her throat tightened and untightened, swallowing in great desperate gulps the hot, sticky fluid Thurman was spewing in her mouth. Her cheeks bloated and hollowed as the warm, working cavern of her mouth filled and emptied, filled and emptied, as she swallowed desperately to rid it of the flooding white sperm pulsating into it. God, he thought, the man must be a reservoir of sperm.
At the same time he could feel a gush of warmth around his own cock inside her still-pulsating vagina and her juices begin to flow out from around the edges of his deeply imbedded cock and down into the softness of his swaying testicles.
She was cumming too, and groaned out her release as she continued her now uncontrolled gnawing on Thurman's deflating prick below. Bob clenched his eyes tightly shut and felt his testicles begin to wildly erupt. His hot sperm spurted like a fire hose through the end of his driving cock and squirted wildly far up into Carol's palpitating vagina. In spite of the excitement of the moment, an obscene thought of his sperm mixing with that of an almost total stranger deep inside his wife's quivering belly sent chills of revulsion creeping through him. For a moment he hated her again and thrust his cock as deep as it would go as it spewed out its lewd load, he ground his pelvis around and dug the head deeper and deeper scraping the walls of her pussy without mercy. She whimpered, her own orgasm nearing its end and tried to jerk forward to dislodge him from her now satiated cunt but he held her tight for a further moment looking down on the back of her head as she suddenly turned to the side. Thurman's thick, deflated prick slipped from her mouth and he could see thin, sticky strings of his hot sperm still connecting her face to it even though it was now several inches away from her lips. Her breathing was heavy and wet as though her mouth and nose were completely covered with moisture. She groaned and flopped her head sideways to his heavy belly, her body limp like a doll, held in place against Bob's loins only by the pressure of his hands at the juncture of her widespread thighs. He strained forward and emptied the last of his cum deep inside her and then released his hands as he felt his own prick begin deflating inside the wet, flooded hole of her crotch. She slithered forward and lay still across Thurman's loins and chest, her own legs still wide apart. He caught a last view of her wide stretched vagina between her open legs, wet and glistening in the light from the lamp before he fell to the side on the bed where Thurman's wife was still working herself with her own fingers into a frenzy. He had barely hit the mattress when she engulfed him in her arms and began pleading:
"Now me, now me!"
He could see Carol, her face still lying against Thurman's calmed belly smiling over at him, thin trails of his sperm still visible around her ruby red lips. Her victory was complete. She had hurt him with a vengeance.
Later, they did other things, wild, crazy positions with all of them on the same bed that he had never known existed with Thurman's wife directing like a master musician. To him, the evening faded into nothing but a wild tangled mass of thighs, breasts, and cunts. He was not always even certain whose it was, but took the offering without question. Why not, there wasn't much else in the world now. He knew, without question, that they had both passed the point of no return.
Summer had passed and the season had slipped into late fall. Carol Benson was sitting in the living room looking out the front window at the last of the leaves falling from the trees across the street. She was dressed casually, in a pair of slacks and sweater. It was faintly apparent that she had matured more than she should have in the last few months from the tiny crow's feet barely becoming visible in the corners of her eyes. Her make-up was a little heavier, too but aside from these facts, one who had not known her before would not have noticed the difference. She still retained the fresh sparkle in her eyes and the eagerness within her body. In fact, she could feel that eagerness coming to the fore now as she waited for Harry Burns' car to return from picking up the other two couples he had gone after.
She had enjoyed the party last week where all of them were naked in the same room and pressed her thighs tightly together in warm remembrance of some of the things that had been done to her and the things she had done to others in return. It seemed to be getting to the point now where she wasn't satisfied unless she had at least three or four men in the same evening and if it hadn't been for Harry Burns sneaking over several days a week and an occasional door to door salesman, both of which were strictly against club rules, she would have gone completely out of her mind. Poor Bob just couldn't stand the pace she required any more but she didn't blame him, probably no man could have.
The were doing well with Bob's new accounts and he had made three new promotions in the last two months or so since they had first met the Burns. Her personal account was growing by leaps and bounds and had finally reached the point where they had just agreed to forget it. She had gotten her petty revenge and Bob had suffered enough until they both had adjusted to sharing each other. She had put the crumpled two dollar bills away as a silent souvenir of her introduction to the hedonistic world and they had resumed life as before, except of course, for their new circle of friends. It just seemed so natural now, these weekly meetings and all, and it never ceased to amaze her at the affluence of the members. She just couldn't believe the number of leading citizens from the area who had already been members or who had joined the club since she and Bob had become members. It was simply astounding.
Her reminiscence was suddenly interrupted by the harsh blare of a horn outside. She quickly put out the cigarette she was smoking and picked her bag up from the hallway and bounded out the door and down the stairs to the waiting car.
"Hi, everyone ready?" she queried with a laugh as she crawled in the back seat with Jack Sherman and Sarah Castles.
"Hi, chicken," Harry Burns returned her greeting with the others. "Phyllis can't make it. Sudden case of flu, but otherwise everything's okay. You and Sarah oughta be able to handle three old men like us without too much trouble."
"I think I could do that myself without too much trouble," she kidded back. "Unless all three of you have improved a great deal since last week."
She smiled warmly over at Sarah Castles who sat a bit nervously against the other corner of the back scat. She knew she would have to be a little gentle with her and lead her along for the first day anyway. She was new with the group and a young newlywed of less than two months. She had never been on one of these weekends where all the couples split up into groups of six with no husband or wife pairs allowed together in the same group. Sarah might find it a bit difficult without her husband for the first time and Carol sympathized with her. She too had gone through the same sort of doubt for the first several times but now they had become so commonplace with her she looked forward to it. It seemed to lift all inhibitions, for no matter how many times one sexed it up in front of husband or wife, they always seemed to hold something back. It was a natural reaction, she supposed. She had found her self always feeling inhibited too when she knew Bob was watching someone else doing it to her. It might not be apparent to someone from her wild reaction to sex, but she felt it deeply within herself anyway and she knew the others did too. This was the reason for these little changes in club practice once a month where no mates were allowed along. She knew, too, that Sarah was in for a rough weekend. Harry Burns would make certain she got everything it was possible for a woman to get. He seemed to enjoy humiliating women, particularly the young, innocent, new members who were still a little shy. Carol knew this from her own experiences with him and the things he had demanded of her when he had gotten his chance with her the first few times. Well, she would just have to hold him back as much as she possibly could for Sarah's sake.
The trip to Harry's lake cabin was several hours long and they passed it quickly and enjoyably. Charlie Evans, sitting in the front seat with Harry, had brought several bottles along and they passed them around in the car, discussing animatedly all the time their plans for the two days they were to spend there. She didn't know too much about Evans, he too was a new member and she had only made love with him one time when they both had already been through the mill so she listened particularly to anything he would say to see if she could figure him out. It did not help much. He was the quiet type that made it difficult to tell what really smoldered beneath him. She had the feeling that it was a great deal but she wasn't certain she liked it. Harry Burns was a sadist, there was no question about that but he was a loud, crude one. You always knew what he was thinking, but with Evans it was different. He was too quiet and she had a tinge of fear about being alone with him in a room with no one else around. She just didn't know what he might do to her.
"House coming up in about three minutes," Harry said as they rounded a bend on the dirt road they had been traveling since turning off they main highway several miles back. "Start getting your pants off, girls," he joked, knowing the effect it would have on Sarah Castles.
Carol could see her flush a little from the remark and twist nervously on the handkerchief she carried in her hand, and suddenly for the first time, she could understand the excitement that Marsha must have felt when she had watched her being taken that first night. There was a little added something, perhaps the small degree of sadism latent in all of us, that increased the enjoyment of watching someone who was not quite willing in the beginning to turn suddenly into a wild inferno of uncontrolled lust. This wouldn't be Sarah's first time, but it certainly would be the first time she really got it with no holds barred. There was no husband around now to object if things really got out of hand. And ... she knew with these three that they very well could. She found herself guiltily looking forward to seeing Sarah having it thrown to her good. God, she thought to herself, I'm getting as bad as the rest of them.
Harry pulled the car up in front of the stone and redwood cabin that sat right on the edge of the lake and switched the motor off. They all pitched in carrying the food and liquor into the house and had cleared the car in a matter of a few minutes. The sun was just going down over the far edge of the lake and presented the most beautiful sunset Carol had seen in a long time. The air was a bit nippy at this altitude and Harry had built a huge roaring fire in the stone fireplace that gave the cabin a warm, homey look, belying the real reason they were here ... A stranger walking in at this moment, she mused, would have thought they were just two married couples and a friend up for a quiet weekend of fishing or bridge. But, if he happened to stay a few minutes longer, he would soon see that that was not the case.
Harry, as usual, had had the interior done in perfect keeping with its purpose. The living room was huge with a high oak-beamed ceiling and a large stone fireplace that looked like one from the old frontier days. It was so large a person could almost stand up in it and it heated the house beautifully. Several large double mattresses were scattered around the floor against the walls without bedsteads. Nice, she thought drily, one doesn't hurt oneself if you fall off in the heat of the moment.
They busied themselves for awhile with all the domestic activities required to open the cabin up for living. The men carried in wood and after a long struggle got the hot water heater going with the electric generator. The cabin was too isolated to have electricity and Carol noted with a grimace while she and Sarah were tidying up the kitchen and putting the food away that it had a wood stove and they would have to prepare the meals on that. She had never cooked on one before but Sarah had and she let her handle that part of the chores.
The men relaxed and fixed the drinks while they cooked the steaks and she noticed that Harry kept pouring a little more for Sarah than he did the rest of them. They began to tell after awhile but she didn't stop, she seemed to be trying to build her courage up for the time when she knew she would have to produce according to the club rules in spite of her fears.
"Sarah," Carol said warmly at one point when they were in the kitchen alone and she could see the poor girl shaking so badly she could hardly hold the pan she was cooking with. "Don't worry about later tonight. It'll be all right."
Her reminder of what was to come seemed to be the final strain on Sarah's nerves.
"Oh God, Carol, I-I just can't go through with it. Phil and I didn't really know what we were getting into with all of this," and she dropped her head in her hands. "Phil needed the job Charlie Evans offered."
"Well, why did you join?" Carol asked with sympathy in her voice. "You should have known after the first time you came to one of the parties."
"Oh, it was too late then," she blubbered into her hands. "Phil just couldn't turn down the job offered him and we were so afraid of losing it with all the debts we have to pay for my mother's hospital bills and all. It really is a good job and we need it so badly."
"You poor dear," Carol consoled, her heart going out to her. "You mean he gave Phil the job just to get at you?"
"Y-Yes, he did. And he hasn't had me yet but he will now, and-and I know it's just going to be awful. I don't think I can stand having him or the others touch me."
"But didn't you like it the first time?"
"No, no I didn't, but I did it for Phil and now he's not here. He's off with someone else doing the same thing. It's just horrible, horrible."
Carol started to say something about the way she and Bob became involved but decided against it. It wouldn't help Sarah and besides, she might say something to the others and they mustn't find out they had become members just to take advantage of the accounts Bob would get.
"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now. You just relax and let things take their course. You'll see how easy it will be-and fun too," she added as an afterthought, hoping to cheer her up.
"I-I don't care, I just can't and I'm not going to."
"Here, here, what's all the fuss?" Harry Burns came through the kitchen door with a grin on his face. "Let me fix up the drinks, it looks like you girls are empty."
He took the glasses and patted Sarah intimately on the buttocks as she kept her face turned away from him so that he could not see her tears.
"You know," Carol said quietly as he left the room.
"You don't have a choice under the rules. Once you've accepted membership you've got to do it. It would ruin Phil if you didn't."
"Oh God, I know, I know," she whimpered again but suddenly straightened up again and turned back to the stove as Harry re-entered carrying their fresh drinks.
"They're good and strong now," he joked jovially. "Now let's get on with these steaks. Old Daddy here needs some energy to make this little dolly eat her words about being able to take us all on."
"Oh Harry, damn it, get out of here," she laughed back, playfully squirming away. "You'll get your chance, don't worry."
Harry opened several bottles of wine for the dinner and they all ate voraciously from the effect of the cool mountain air and the long trip up from the coast. The others laughed and joked while they ate and Carol could notice Evans' eyes drifting over to Sarah almost devouring her luscious young body right at the table. She sat quiet and said little unless asked a question.
"Come on, Sarah, cheer up," Jack Sherman said when he noticed the sadness in her face. "We'll get to you girls soon, you don't have to look so impatient."
The others burst out in laughter at his joke and at the same time Harry, finishing his steak, rose from the table and began rummaging in his bag. He pulled out several reels of 8 millimeter film and presented them proudly to the others.
"New stuff, it just came in and boy, is it hot," he announced. "Now come on let's get with it."
Carol looked over at Sarah and noticed that she was ready to burst into tears again from the announcement that things were to begin. The men had risen from the table and had gathered around the fire with their after dinner drinks in their hands. She reached warmly over and clasped Sarah's hand in hers, whispering to her.
"Remember Phil's job, you've got to go through with it even if it kills you."
The poor tortured girl sat still for a moment and then nodded her head in helpless acceptance without speaking.
Harry threaded the projector in one corner of the room and focused it on the screen on the opposite wall while the others pulled out a huge king-sized mattress from the corner and flopped down on it in the center of the floor. They left room between them for the girls who followed a moment later and lay down beside them. Harry grabbed some large pillows and threw them over to Jack who arranged them behind everyone so they could relax fully to get a good view of the screen.
Carol was flanked on the outside by Jack with Charlie Evans in the middle. Sarah was next to him with Harry lying on her outside. It was apparent from the helpless trapped look on Sarah's face that a deep battle was raging within her over whether or not to fight the inevitable. She pulled heavily on her drink and Carol could see her hand shaking as though she were freezing. Charlie Evans had noticed it too and it was apparent he was enjoying her tortured discomfort.
The picture flicked on, brightening the room a bit from its light. It was the age old story of a seduction with a neighbor calling on a young innocent housewife in the next apartment after she had kissed her husband goodbye for work. There was the usual foreplay with the woman fighting for all she was worth at first, then slowly succumbing to the man. He fucked her on the living room couch for awhile and made her suck him and then he went to the door and motioned outside. A huge man appeared, obviously a friend who had been waiting until the other man had seduced her. He entered and stripped his clothes off quickly while the poor girl lay huddled in terror back against the couch. Then he fucked her the same way for awhile while the first man made her suck him. They both worked her over in various ways, one at a time, then both together until it could be seen they were all cumming at one time in a wild three-way orgasm.
It was the climax that started the real excitement among the group watching it from the mattress. Carol heard a sudden sucking in of breath and saw Evans' hand lifting Sarah's dress slowly up her legs. She had raised her head from the pillow and was looking down glassy-eyed and helpless as she could feel her thighs slowly being exposed to the sight of those around her. Carol though for a minute she was going to scream and tear herself from the bed but suddenly the wild look of revulsion faded from her face and one of helpless resignation crossed over it. Her head fell loosely back to the pillow, her eyes clenched tightly shut. She obviously had thought of Phil and his job and what it would mean to them if she resisted now. Her spirit was completely broken.
Carol watched in aroused fascination, her own excitement rising at the sight of Charlie Evan's hands as they began their lewd seductive movements over Sarah's full, young form laying helpless before him. He obviously, was a master of humiliation like Harry Burns only in a more sadistic and serious sense. Evidently he had waited a long time to get her this way and it was apparent he was not going to let her off easily.
Sarah's dress was up to the top of her thighs now and the flimsy whiteness of her panties came into view. Tiny, soft strands of dark silky pubic hair could be seen flowing out from under the tight elastic leg bands around her vagina.
"Open your thighs," Evans breathed down at her, a cruel, unyielding glint sparkling lewdly in his eyes.
Carol held her breath as the young helpless newlywed obediently spread her legs a few inches. A tear of shame coursed down her soft cheek.
"More than that, honey," Harry chimed in, a lewd excited grin on his face too. "We wanna see that tight little pussy of yours."
Sarah spread her thighs wider but Evans, losing patience, grabbed her knees and forced them sharply apart, bringing a whimper of protest from Sarah's lips and exposing the full of her crotch to the men's leering eyes. Charlie reached down and with one quick swipe of his hands ripped the flimsy silk panties away without giving her a chance to close her legs.
"Oooooh, don't, you're tearing them, you're tearing them," she groaned as the soft raw flesh of her vaginal slit came into view.
"Now don't you worry, honey," Harry grinned over her. "Daddy'll buy you a new pair. Maybe six of 'em before the weekend's over."
"Boy, I'm gonna enjoy fucking that. Look at that soft little pink opening. It's gonna start jerking in a minute, just begging for something to stretch it about two more inches apart," Charlie grinned.
Carol watched this lewd humiliation of Sarah with mixed emotions. It was exciting her, God, how it was exciting her and yet she felt a slight tinge of pity coursing through her for the helpless young girl who was being subjected to such a thing after such a short period of marriage. At least, she and Bob had been married for three years before it happened. She could see her lying there with her legs apart probably feeling more naked and ashamed than she had ever felt in her life. She didn't even try to stop the tears rolling down her cheeks now and they gushed over the side of her face and wet the pillow below her head in piteous streams of shame. She was forced to lie almost naked beneath those two vile, filthy old men and accept their crude caresses and lewd words without resistance.
"She'll be a good fuck," Harry observed, his head peering over between her legs where Charlie held them apart.
He reached forward and ran his middle finger up the tightly closed slit, parting the soft vaginal hairs and feeling the smooth, moist, pink flesh beneath jerk against his sudden contact. He dug it slightly into her tight little vaginal opening feeling her shiver from the sudden sensation.
Carol could feel the pit of her belly and thighs hot and moist from the lewd spectacle before her. She was aware dimly of Jack's hands working at the zipper on the back of her slacks and lifted her buttocks slightly as he opened it to allow him to draw them down over the rounded moons of her ass. She wore no panties and drew in her breath deliciously as the warm air of the heated room swirled about her unprotected genitals. She could hear him rustling out of his clothes behind her as she kept her eyes glued to the obscene positioning of Sarah's helpless body in front of her. Jack placed his hands on her hips and lifted her in a kneeling position so that she was on all fours with her face looking over Charlie's body at Sarah next to him. And then, she felt the hardness of Jack's cock scraping and rubbing against the moist lips of her own cunt. She was ready, and reached back under her body, grasping his rigid prick and pulling it forward until she felt the hot throbbing head insinuating itself between the little ridges of tender flesh on either side of her pussy. He pressured forward slowly and with one long easy stroke slid it all the way up into her heaving belly. She moaned as she felt the head batter softly up against her cervix, buried as far in her cunt as it would go. Her mouth dropped loosely open and she began squirming back against him dog fashion as she felt him begin rotating it deep inside her. The head scraped deliciously against the far hidden walls of her womb in a sweet magical rhythm that brought swelling moans from deep in her throat as she kept her eyes tightly glued to Sarah's body still held tight between the two other men.
They had stripped all of her clothes off now and she was completely naked and defenseless to their rummaging hands between her legs and over her breasts. She was completely open, Harry had drawn one of her legs up over his hips on one side and Charlie had drawn the other over his so that she was laying with her knees up in the air and her thighs wide apart, her crotch completely open to them. Charlie worked at her vagina now slowly and expertly insinuating his fingers, hurting slightly at first, so that she gasped and bit down on her lips to stem the pain. And then, he smoothed them around inside, sliding his other hand up under her buttocks and drawing them up tight against the hand in her cunt. She could not escape and lay back hopelessly impaled between the two.
"She's getting wet," he grinned over at Harry, who had dropped his head to her nipples and was beginning to bring small mewls of half protest, half pleading from her clenched lips.
"Is she ready to fuck?" he asked raising his head. "Almost, almost," Charlie breathed heavily. "I can feel it opening wider down inside."
"Me first," Harry hissed.
"No, both at once," Charlie said, a strange sadistic tone in his voice.
"How?"
"You in the front and me in the back."
"We'll hurt her, that's against the rules."
"Who'll complain?"
"Her husband, you idiot."
"No he won't," Charlie grinned as he continued his rummaging into the poor groaning girl's cunt, stretching it wider and wider with each further circle of his fingers. "He knows I'll fire him if he does."
Carol couldn't believe her ears. Even through her burning passion that was coursing through her own body from Jack's cock skewering into her from behind, the impact of the words came through to her. God, they were going to sodomize her and fuck her at the same time. Sarah was too far gone in her shame and humiliation to resist anything they tried now and Carol was certain she would let them do anything they wanted to do her now with Charlie's threat to fire her husband. The obscene thought of the depraved unnatural ravishment about to take place right here a few inches in front of her face caused her to groan in guilty excitement and grind her own buttocks tighter back against Jack's undulating pelvis as he continued his long smooth strokes into her.
Charlie suddenly withdrew his fingers from Sarah's widely expanded vagina and rose to the floor.
"Turn her over," he hissed down to Charlie who still held her tight down on the mattress. He obediently moved up and caught her by the shoulders, twisting her around so that she was lying face down on the mattress. She lay without struggling, just small gasps of humiliation and shame coursing from her mouth. Her buttocks quivered slightly from her deep soulful sobs.
Charlie stood on the edge of the mattress now completely stripped. He waited for a moment standing between her ankles which protruded over the side. His monstrous cock, long and white, stood out with thin blue lines of veins pulsating out around it. Carol's eyes opened wide in horrified wonder. God he would kill the girl. She could never take a thing like that in her rectum, he would split her in half.
He stooped, and grabbing both of the sobbing girl's ankles, pressured out harshly, pulling her legs wide apart.
"Oh no, please no," she whimpered as she felt the cool rush of air between her thighs. "I can't let you, I can't let you! Not that way!"
She jerked and tried to rise.
"Hold her, hold her," Charlie yelled to Harry who pushed his hand hard down into the small of her back pressing her back tight against the mattress. Sarah struggled for a moment and then laid still, her body shaking from the violently helpless pleadings rumbling unheard from her throat.
Carol moaned involuntarily from the lewd scene as Evans dropped to his knees between the girl's legs, running his hands greedily over the long, firm muscles of Sarah's shaking calves and up the inside of her thighs to the moistened interior of her legs. The cleft between them was deep and inviting and Carol shuddered in rising excitement as he ran the edge of his hand down the smooth crease of Sarah's buttocks parting it slightly so that the tiny puckered anus was visible to her gaping eyes. Her own cunt throbbed from the effect of the indecent exposure and she could hear Jack gasp behind her as he felt her warm wet flesh jerk tighter around his cock. She moved forward an inch or so, so that her face was within a few inches of Sarah's quivering buttocks. She wanted to see it all, every tiny thing that happened and Jack, behind her, shuffled forward on his knees between her thighs so as not to lose the maddening contact.
Evans leered down at the cowering girl and slowly drew aside the soft white mounds of her buttocks. Sarah groaned and tried to tense them together again, but he dug his fingers hard into her soft flaccid flesh and she relaxed and let him spread them apart as he wished.
Carol, in her excitement, could hear him suck in his breath as the tiny ring of soft tender flesh came into view again. He pushed one hand down and thrust experimentally at it with his middle finger. Sarah jumped and cried out as she felt the unnatural intrusion into the tight rubbery opening and pressed her pelvis hard down into the mattress, her buttocks tensing tight together to try and escape the finger being thrust into her ass. It was useless and he thrust forward again sinking it to the first knuckle.
"Aaaaag, God," she gasped piteously and clenched her ass together as tight as she could, trapping his hand between the hardened cheeks.
"Open it," he commanded brutally, pushing down with all his strength and popping his finger through the desperate but useless resistance past the second knuckle. She groaned aloud and in piteous submission relaxed, her backside limp to be used as he wished.
As he scoured mercilessly into her abused anus with his finger, widening and preparing it for the greater entry to come, Carol could see his other hand stroking and preparing this thick veined cock for the final and ultimate humiliation of the defenseless young newlywed spread-eagled on her belly beneath him. He pulled the thick foreskin back, exposing the huge round bulbous head. It was monstrous and he aimed it directly at the tiny puckered hole now stretched wide from the rummaging of his middle finger.
He opened her buttocks wide again with his thumbs, withdrawing his finger and leaning forward to drop a large drop of spittle from his lips to moisten and lubricate his entry. Then, he leaned forward pressing the whole of his body into her back, the thick full length of his cock lay pressed into the crevice of her ass, the tip resting against the tiny throbbing hole wet from his spit. He pushed his hands under her loins again and stretched the white soft moons apart. Levering himself up on his elbows, he pressed slightly with his hips for a moment, directing his rock hard instrument straight into the tightly clenched orifice of her ass.
Carol held her breath for what seemed an eternity and then groaned as she saw the unrelenting staff pop suddenly through the tight restricting ring of flesh. She watched with open mouth, tongue hanging loosely from her lips, as she saw the tiny stretched anus slipping over and clasping the tip of Evan's cock like a rubber band. He grinned above her like an evil avenging devil and thrust his hips hard down again sinking his rod halfway to the hilt. Sarah cried out with pain, the sound muffled by the pillow pressing into her face, and flailed her legs on either side of him struggling hopelessly to escape the cruel impalement.
Her buttocks jerked and twisted beneath him, trying to throw him off, but her desperate struggles only worsened her position. With each buck of her body his cock skewered into her tightly-resisting anus another cruel and painful inch, until finally ...
"Aaaaaaag, Uuuugh!" she gasped out the last of her strength and Evan's thick, huge cudgel slipped unimpeded into the warm rubbery depths of her rectum to the hilt. She jerked spasmodically for a moment and then lay still to ease the pain of the cruel and complete occupation of her asshole. It was useless to resist further as each throb of her body only served to widen and stretch the tiny cavern to greater and more painful dimensions.
"Oooooh God, it's a tight little asshole," Evans hissed through clenched teeth above her. In spite of his desire to begin fucking into her ass immediately, he reached down grasping her firm rounded hips in his hands and pulled her to her knees, bending her body almost in double. He ground his teeth tight together and took several long smooth strokes into her, bringing a groan of pain and humiliation from her tortured lips each time he thrust forward. Harry Burns, beside the obscenely-coupled pair, was going out of his mind. He ran his hands wildly over her breasts and back, pinching and pulling at the soft flesh until he could stand it no longer.
"Turn her over, damn it, turn her over," he fairly shouted at the preoccupied Evans.
Evans, barely hearing his pleas, locked his hands tightly to Sarah's hips and rolled to the side, pulling her backwards on top of him. His huge, throbbing cock was still imbedded deep inside her anus as she lay full length on her back tight against his stomach and chest. Her legs splayed out limply on the outside of his legs, a low pleading mewl coming from her wet, tortured lips.
Harry Burns lost no time. He leaped over between her widespread legs, straddling Evan's knees and pushed her thighs further apart still. He grasped his hard, aching cock in his hands and guided it without a moment's delay deep into the moist open cavern of her pussy.
"Oooooooh," she groaned as it slithered deep inside her belly, joining Evans' cock already buried there in her rectum. She lay moaning and sobbing from the pain and shame, sandwiched between the two of them, impaled between their cocks like an insect, with only the thin wall of flesh between her anus and cunt separating the two vicious instruments.
There was no delay. Harry Burns already excited from watching Evans' cruel rape of her anus began to furiously fuck into her hot, moist pussy while Evans beneath, began thrusting up with long hard strokes into the depths of her rectum. It took a moment, but then they began a natural rhythm, buffeting her between them like a sack of soft resilient foam rubber. She was uttering a single low whine which went on and on all the time they ground into her but interrupted occasionally by a deep grunt from her chest as they smacked into her body with harder and harder force.
Carol watched mesmerized, her eyes a scant few inches from where the two thick cudgels skewered into Sarah's wide stretched loins like twin battering rams. Her excited lust-dimmed eyes watched the moist long cocks-wet their full lengths from Sarah's vaginal secretions-fucking into her. She could see the ragged pink edges of her cunt drawing back with Harry's cock on the outstroke and disappearing back inside as he rammed it home again deep in her belly. The same was true with the tight clasping opening of her wide stretched asshole as Evans screwed into it with a demonic fury. On and on it went as she knelt before Jack screwing into her from behind like a wild man, he too excited by the obscene spectacle of two men ravishing the soft young girl between them at the same time.
And then, the impossible happened.
As Carol knelt in subservient excitement in front of the helpless Sarah she suddenly heard the low whining moans of pain change, almost imperceptibly at first, and then to a tone that left no room for doubt. It was a low whimper of passionate pleading.
She was beginning to enjoy it!
It was a strange kind of masochistic joy, perhaps from the very helplessness of her position or from the lewd, obscene thought of being fucked half to death by two men at once like this. But whatever it was she began to feel it. Her hips began to move backwards to meet the upthrust of Evan's cramming it into her rectum and then forward again to swallow the whole of Harry Burns' plunging cock into her suddenly hot steaming pussy. Her whole body undulated between the two men and her buttocks moved in tiny abandoned circles.
"Ooooh, oooooh, oooooh," she chanted on and on in time to their crushing thrusts against her cunt and asshole. Wilder and wilder they became, punishing her between them like a puppet. All three of their coarse groans intermingled in a symphony of mad sexual abandonment.
Sarah screamed first.
"Aaaaaahg," and then a longer one. "Aaaaaaaahggg! Oh God, keep on ... keep on!"
The poor helpless girl was out of her mind with desire now and began sobbing out her orgasm that seemed to go on and on until Carol thought it would never stop. The men, sensing their total conquest of her body and mind, both plunged forward at the same time imbedding their suddenly wild ejaculating cocks deep into her pussy and asshole and pumped their sperm far, far up into her heaving belly. They collapsed in a spent and satiated heap for a moment. Harry Burns rolling from off the top of her body his penis, still hard in spite of his orgasm, slipping from her wide-stretched cunt with a wet sucking noise that could be heard the full length of the room. Sarah lay still, flat on her back on top of Evans. His cock was still imbedded deep in her anus and she looked as though she were in a daze. Her legs wide apart so that the tiny pink edges of her vagina could still be seen wet and glistening, the thick stump of Evans' cock protruding from her rectum below.
Carol was going out of her mind now. The sight of the helpless, innocent Sarah going stark raving mad the way she did and turning into a sex-crazed maniac was just too much. She had to have it ... and just the way Sarah did. Nothing else would do.
She slid forward desperately, dislodging Jack's still driving cock from her pussy and turning back to him, hissed over her shoulder.
"Put it in my ass, the way Charlie just did. Quick, damn it, quick!"
Jack, without needing further encouragement, placed the throbbing, blood-filled head against her tiny tight anal opening and thrust forward with all his strength.
"Oooooooh, God, Aaaaaag," Carol groaned, fighting to keep the tears of pain from flowing to her eyes. She didn't know it would hurt like this. It felt like a huge, red-hot steel rod being crammed between her legs.
But, she didn't have time to object further. Jack, locking her tight to him with his hands on her hips, rolled over in the same position Evans had had Sarah in, his cock imbedded deep up her rectum. Harry Burns needed no further invitation and jumped between her widespread legs and rammed it home deep in her belly. After awhile it didn't hurt anymore and they fucked her and fucked her, until she thought she would never cum again. Orgasm after orgasm flooded through her until finally she was too drained to even move. The rejuvenated men buffeted her limp form between them for hours like a rag doll until at last the two finished and spurted their hot, white sperm deep in her widely-expanded twin passages.
As they rolled from her body, both spent for the moment, she caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye of Evans furiously fucking Sarah again. Only, this time, there were no anguished pleas for mercy. She had her legs drawn back up tight against her chest with her ankles locked behind his neck. His cock was sunk completely to the hilt in the moist, hot slit of her vagina. Carol could see the wide stretched lips of the now-hungry tight cunt almost crawl up the full length of him as Sarah moaned and purred beneath him.
The thought, "well, welcome to the club" suddenly ran ridiculously through her mind.
After this, the weekend ran its course rapidly. Everyone made love to everyone else in a thousand different ways but somehow it never seemed to reach the same intense emotional state it did that first few hours. Sarah never made an objection after her initial one and Charlie Evans got all of it he wanted, So did the others. Carol was happy when Sunday afternoon finally rolled around. She was tired and one could only take so much sex. A lot maybe ... but still there's a limit on everyone.
It was Sunday morning and summer had come again. The long, lithe blonde turned lazily on the floor. One could detect the movement was a painful one, possibly because of the hangover she carried.
"Bob, for God Sake's, get away from that window and stop ogling that new neighbor of ours. Haven't you looked enough?"
"Not on your life, chicken," he replied with a wide grin. "I've got my sights set on that."
"You'll never make it," his wife looked up at him impatiently.
"Don't be too sure," he smiled, walking over and sitting down beside her. "I've got a plan and you're gonna help me make it work."
He smoothed his hand down over her firm rounded buttocks and suddenly without warning shoved it up under her robe to her naked crotch.
"Ah, no pants, just as I thought."
Carol jumped forward and shrieked, trying to escape the teasing rummaging between her legs.
"Damn you, Bob Benson," she giggled as she fought to force his hand down from between her legs.
"Gonna help me?"
"Yes," she giggled again as he moved his hand more rapidly. "Yes, yes, anything you say."
Next door, Ellen Jensen pushed the lawnmower with a light smile on her face. She was really happy for the first time since she and Dick had married last year. The new house was really wonderful and the neighborhood the most plush thing she had ever seen. She had always had dreams about living in a place like this since her childhood and now, it had all come true. Dick with his new job and all had wanted to wait another year before making a move like this but she had pressured him into it after a long argument. She was sure they could make out alright if she budgeted everything well and if the bank would approve that loan they needed so badly. She had heard their neighbor had a real important position at the main office.
Maybe Dick should go over tomorrow and see if perhaps he could do something for them. After all, it couldn't hurt anything to ask.
