It is with immense pride and privilege that we, the publishers, introduce Peter Jensen's epic of soul searching importance, A Mother's Love. Not since the Greek play Oedipus has such investigation been done upon the basic social institution of marriage and its potential inward disintegration to incest, for it has only been in recent years that the middle class of America has evolved in a parallel of the ancient Greek era, and the timely importance of such a theme is at last ready to be explored once more. We are indebted to the author for his honest and fearless portrayal of the consequences of our average upbringing, and we urge all serious students of sociology and social psychology to study and absorb the deep penetrating wisdom he has revealed in these pages.
Mr. Jensen is not the first to use the theme of marriage as the basis of a novel. Others have done well with their presentations of the winds of fortune which may blow change upon a family group, yet we feel that the monumental proportions of themes here within presented are of an achievement unique in the annals of literature. The heartbreaks and frustrations that are spawned by Judeo-Christian teachings would be enough to try the efforts of a lesser author, but Mr. Jensen has skillfully woven them into an intricate tapestry of their effects, so that the whole disastrous pattern is at once clearly understood and empathetically exposed.
The case of Randi Malone has been candidly presented to show the casual relationships between her past childhood and current marital status, and of even greater importance, her sequential evolution to a sensually awakened maturity. The denial of procreational forces has been a dilemma in modern life, for a young girl is taught to reject sex almost from moment of birth. She may not touch herself or others, and all relationships of closeness or desire are to be carefully guarded and scrutinized. Yet, one half of the human female is designed for begetting; is it any wonder that the fantasy of denial has so confused and alienated the true capacities of womankind? Randi Malone has one further red mark against her-the abject torment of having been forced into marriage, and rather than entering into such an important alliance with the joy, and blissful contemplation of the future, her guilt destroys her capacities to be harmonious with her husband. It is a sad fact of everyday living that many women are like her-transferring their subconscious agonies from their own inadequacies to false images of male bestiality. It is only after prolonged and tortuous appraisal of their environmental conditioning can the realistic conclusion that they themselves are at fault be reached, and only after that self admission can the proper adjustment to their mates and others be made.
Properly, therefore, Peter Jensen has pictured Randi Malone's life with Gary, and her subsequent change. Yet with the scope of a true artist, he has delved into the machinations of the mind still further, and the author has made a direct comparison between the rejection of wifely duty and mother love. Proud, yet sickly confused, Randi Malone inadvertently switched what she should feel for her husband to her son, and without realizing it becomes overwhelmed with her pent-up emotions. Hence the blood-and-flesh characterization of Bob, her handsome, virile boy, and Fran, his fianc�e, who is everything Mrs. Malone refuses to be. Unable to accept Fran, for the girl symbolizes the opposite extreme, Randi Malone is finally faced with climactic crossroads of decision, and the end result of her unrecognized instincts are almost disastrous.
We are grateful to Mr. Jensen for showing us the way out however, for he confirms that the basic citadel of marriage is made to withstand such assaults, and that through its flexibilities it can weather such crucial storms as the palm tree bends to the uprooting blasts of hurricanes. What worries us, though, is that this is but one brief sojourn into the realm of marital relationships, and that we cannot see other, possibly more damaging, segments of social change and their effects upon people. Possibly it is just as well, and it is better that we keep such information darkly to ourselves.
The Publishers
Chapter 1
Waiting in the visitors' area at Gate 30 of the San Francisco International Airport, Randi Ma-lone smoothed her tight white skirt down on her slim, tapered legs carefully and patted her blonde hair in a discomfited way. She was conscious of the short, fat, balding man sitting opposite her, briefcase covering his wide lap, staring at her with hot, hungry eyes; she knew exactly what he was thinking, what was probably happening to him beneath that briefcase, and the knowledge filled her with a kind of revulsion. She was aware that her body, even at thirty-five, was that of a young girl in her late teens-breasts high and firm and proud, a perfect 36C; belly flat, narrow, sloping faultlessly into the gentle pubic mound, with only the tiniest hint of striations from her single childbirth; legs long and perfectly formed and downy soft; buttocks tightly globular, undulating promisingly when she walked despite her efforts to the contrary-but she wished sometimes that she had run to fat men like some of her like-aged friends. Then men such as the one sitting across from her wouldn't stare with open lasciviousness and make her feel so naked and vulnerable and slightly soiled.
The fat man smiled lewdly at Randi, and she dropped her eyes, feeling heat rise on her cheeks. Damn him! Why didn't he go away! She looked at her watch. It was three-fifteen; Bob's plane from Los Angeles should be arriving at any moment now.
Her thoughts turned fondly and eagerly to her handsome, dark-haired son, a freshman economics major at the University of Southern California. It had been Christmas since she had last seen him, three months previously, but it seemed to her that it had been much, much longer. Bob was her husband Gary's and her only child conceived from a near-rape in the back seat of Gary's ancient Ford roadster on a wooded lover's lane when she had been a senior in high school, and she loved him deeply and possessively-so deeply and so possessively that a strange ache seemed to fill her when she looked at him. No one, certainly no man, could ever evoke the same emotion within her that Bob did, that consuming love. Sometimes, it frightened her, the way she felt about him ...
Randi's thoughts were interrupted by the sonorous voice of the public address announcer: "Flight 410 from Los Angeles now arriving at Gate 30."
She stood, adjusting the white skirt, glancing almost involuntarily at the fat man, seeing him lick his lips and move the briefcase across his lap. She shuddered and started toward the railing separating the departure ramp. It wouldn't be long now, only a matter of seconds; then Bob would be home.
Bob-and a girl named Fran Crocker.
At least, that was what his last letter had said. That he was bringing home Fran Crocker, whom he had met at USC, to meet his parents and to spend his spring vacation. And who, if everything went according to plan, would become his bride during summer vacation. The excitement of waiting for Bob mingled with another emotion: Randi sensed the growing tide of resentment building within her at the very thought of Fran Crocker. It was the same frustrated anger she had felt when she had first read his letter, and as much as she realized the day had to come when she would lose Bob to another woman, she couldn't help her anguish. He was still hers, and even though she had not met Fran nor had any idea of the kind of girl she was, Randi already pictured the co-ed as a kidnapper.
The passengers began to file out along the exit ramp. Holding her breath, she waited. And then Randi saw her son.
"Bob!" she cried out. "Over here!" Randi waved ecstatically, oblivious to the fact that the hem of her short skirt rode sensuously up and down her thighs. If she had noticed the fat man then, she would have stopped jumping the way she was; the man was breathing harder and louder, rubbing the brief case busily across his lap.
"Mom!" A deep, very masculine voice came from the young man as he strode across the vestibule to Randi. Bob Malone, though only eighteen, was six foot one, bronzed from the Southern California sun and bulging with muscles. He had earned a football scholarship from being an All-Conference halfback in high school, and had been playing on the Frosh squad at USC where he was already breaking rushing records. The sweater he wore was supposed to be bulky, but on his massive frame it was tight; his jeans were filled with the thighs and legs of a well developed man. Randi was proud, proud as only a mother could be.
Then she saw the diminutive figure of Fran Crocker. The young girl was hugging Bob, and Bob had his left arm tightly around the girl's lithe, young waist. The two of them came to Randi as if they were Siamese twins.
Fran was short, though magnificently proportioned, and her wasp-like waist was almost entirely hidden by Bob's big hand. Her round, smooth face was framed by large amounts of raven black hair, hanging loosely down her back to the third vertebrae. There was a slight Polynesian cast to her features, with high cheekbones and a short, pert nose, and almond-shaped brown eyes. Her skin was pale, though, almost iridescent in its purity, and her shoulders and arms were thinly boned, as if carved by an expert ivory cutter. Her female parts showed Southern France heritage and Randi couldn't help but feel coldness as she was forced to admire the lewdly ripe, tilted breasts and full rich thighs. Her own buttocks were almost boyish, but Fran's cheeks were like half melons, provocative and sensual. Why, she looks like some amateur whore, Randi thought in dismay.
"Mom, I'd like you to meet Fran Crocker," Bob said after kissing Randi warmly on the cheek, "and Fran, this is my mother."
Randi and Fran touched hands, and as if an electric shock had passed between, them, they both jerked their hands back at once. Randi knew Fran had felt her bitterness, and in turn sent warning signals of her own. If Randi had been pressed to point to anything in particular in Fran's actions or words to indicate hostility, she would have been hard-pressed to do so; it was simply an intuitive and immediate dislike that made each of them wary, like predatory cats surveying one another in the dark jungles of Africa.
"How do you do, Mrs. Malone," Fran said coolly, smiling. There was thinly veiled malice in that smile, and in her voice.
"So very nice to meet you, Fran," Randi answered, just as coolly.
Bob seemed to sense the enmity between his mother and his fianc�e. He asked quickly, "Where's Dad?"
"Playing golf with Ned Lyams," Randi replied. "You know your father and his Saturday afternoon golf matches."
Bob nodded. "Well, I hope he'll be home for supper. I hope he doesn't ... " He stopped.
Randi was aware of what he had been about to say. Gary had the disgusting habit of drinking to the point where he became an incoherent animal with Ned Lyams and the other members of the Green Hills Country Club after a Saturday match, and then staying out half, if not all the night. There were times when Randi thought that Gary's weekends "with the boys" weren't with the boys at all-but then, he had never really given her any cause to doubt his fidelity and if he was cheating, she had no desire to learn of it.
Randi looped her arm through Bob's, on his left, saying, "Let's pick up your bags, dear. The traffic is just impossible this afternoon and the sooner we're on our way the better." She smiled sweetly at Fran. "And I'm sure your young lady friend would like to freshen up a bit after the flight."
"Why, yes, I would," Fran said. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Malone."
They walked quickly through the terminal to the main lobby and rode an escalator to the lower level where the baggage carousels were located. As they walked, Randi was conscious of the firm, rippling muscles of Bob's slim body beneath her hand and against her thigh and hip. She felt something deeper than a mother's pride at this, something which she did not understand, and she quickly diverted her thoughts to the dinner she had planned for that evening-Bob's favorite, roast prime rib and parsley potatoes.
After they had collected Bob's and Fran's luggage, they went out to the parking area and Randi led them to her new Mercury station wagon. The three of them sat together in the front seat, Fran in the middle. As they pulled out of the parking lot, entering the Bayshore Freeway south toward the affluent community of San Amaron, Randi saw Fran let her left hand slide down to rest possessively on Bob's knee, squeezing it slightly; she repressed an angry jealous urge to comment on this, concentrating on her driving. They rode mostly in an almost strained silence.
Thirty minutes later, she brought the station wagon into the sloping, crushed gravel drive of Gary's and her sprawling ranch style home. Gary's Austin Healey was nowhere to be seen; he was still at the Country Club, of course.
Randi parked the car inside the spacious garage at the rear of the drive, and the three of them collected the luggage. They followed the curving flagstone path which wound through the lush green lawn surrounding the kidney-shaped swimming pool in the rear yard. Fran paused on the half-moon patio at the near end of the pool, parallel to the house, staring down into the placid blue water. "What a lovely sight this is!" she exclaimed. "Bob, why didn't you tell me you had a pool?"
Bob grinned. "The subject never came up."
"Oh, Bob, that's not true!" Fran blushed and tried to look coy.
The little bitch, Randi thought, though she smiled matronly at Fran while such thoughts swirled in her head of the girl's spurious nature. Oh why couldn't her son see through that girl!
"Would you like to go swimming?" she suggested, in spite of her feeling.
"I'd love to," Fran replied. "I brought my suit along."
"It is a hot afternoon," Bob added. "That sounds like a great idea, Mom."
"Fine," Randi said. "Fran, I'll show you to your room and you can change there."
She led the way past the flower bed and onto the covered porch and slid open the glass door. Fran complimented profusely all the way through the living room, which was done in warm autumnal colors and dark wood hues, and admired the original Renoir in the hallway. Bitch, Randi thought to herself again, she's a hypocritical bitch.
Bob put Fran's suitcase at the foot of the double bed in the large guest room and then Randi and the left her to change.
Bob excused himself and took his case into his old room. He stripped in record time, and almost before Randi knew it, he walked into the living room and joined her on the couch. He was magnificent, Randi thought, a beautiful Adonis. His cream-colored bathing suit was a perfect accent to the deep tan of his muscular chest and thick legs, and his thighs were encased in the skin-tight material to where they showed the ripples of his abdominal muscles. Randi saw the cod-piece sized bulge between his legs as he lifted one foot and placed it under the other and turned to face her, and the definite outline of his penis against his balls.
"The trunks are a little small for you, aren't they?" she said.
"I guess I'd better buy another pair," Bob said. "I've had them for a year now, and I've outgrown them." He smiled at Randi. "I couldn't find my jockstrap, either."
They waited for Fran, who seemed to be taking her own sweet time about changing, and Randi, eager for all the news of the school Bob had left out of his short letters, couldn't tear her eyes from her son and his trunks. Her lips dry, her voice husky, she stood up suddenly in order to break the spell. "Would you like a drink, Bob?"
"Love one, Mom. What do you have?"
Randi started for the kitchen. "Gin and tonic?"
"Sounds great. Maybe one for-" Bob paused and then Randi heard him whistle. "Wow!"
Randi couldn't see what Bob was exclaiming over. She closed the refrigerator saying, "What's the matter, Bob?"
"Nothing," came the choked reply. "Nothing at all. Yes, make that three gin and tonics, Mom. Fran will have one too."
Then Randi heard Fran's high voice. "You like?"
"Do I?"
Randi heard a scuffling sound and then a husky "mmmmooahhh." as if Fran had just pulled away from an embrace. But that was impossible, Randi frowned, certainly they wouldn't be doing such things in her living room. She gathered the drinks in her hands and walked in there. She stopped immediately in shock at what she saw.
Fran was standing with her back to Randi, her front buried in Bob's chest, their arms entwining like vines. They were kissing and nuzzling and squirming their eager young bodies together with all the abandon of two lewd sex performers. Randi choked and the glasses trembled in her hands. She had to set the drinks down, her eyes transfixed at the passionate scene in front of her, her hands sweating uncontrollably.
What was worse, what really made the kissing and hugging so heathen was what Fran was wearing. Or, rather, what she was not wearing. She was all but naked! Never had Randi seen such a small bikini, not even at the country club. The bra straps were no more than a quarter inch thick, barely string ties, and the pants were caught in the cleft of her buttocks, like a savage's loin cloth. Randi could see the quivering, palpitating flesh of Fran's smooth, young behind, her shapely thighs as they arched into Bob's groin, her upper legs as they pressed against the bathing suit and moved with seductive abandon.
A low moan came from Bob, but he kept his lips mashed with Fran's, oblivious to anybody else in the room, Randi watched in horror and fascination, her eyes capturing the madly working cheeks of the couple as they sucked and rolled their tongues freely in one another's mouths.
Bob reached one hand down and grasped one of Fran's throbbing buttocks, dipping his index finger into the cloth-covered crevice, running it up and down there. Fran's entire rear end began to rotate, at first from side to side, then in a circular motion as she ground her abdomen into Bob's groin faster and faster ...
Randi could stand no more. It was not so much that she was repulsed by the display of sexuality she was witnessing; no, it was beginning to have the exact opposite effect on her body. She felt a tingling warmth deep within her, and the soft folds of her pussy had begun to moisten. Her nipples beneath the half-bra and beneath the sweater she wore hardened into diamond chips, and she could feel little sensations of pleasure coursing through her breasts. She was aroused at the sight of her son and his fianc�e dry-fucking vertically on the living room carpet, aroused impossibly more than she had ever been with Gary and his accomplished but almost animalistic love-making techniques, and the realization that if she continued to watch Fran and Bob, and if they continued at the oblivious pace they were now attaining, she would surely and inevitably have to relieve herself in a way that she had not done since the shameful and inexpert teen-age manipulations of her high-school days.
"Here ... here are the drinks!" she cried out then, breaking the spell she had almost succumbed to, her voice strained and faltering.
Fran and Bob broke apart as if exploded from one another. Bob looked at his mother with fright at first, and then with a kind of downcast remorse; Fran, true bitch she was, blushed violently, turning and sitting down on the couch. Randi saw then that the upper half of the girl's bikini was simply a thin strip of cloth covering little more than the nipples of aureoles; creamy white mounds of flesh, soft and youthful, bulged over the cloth, stretching it almost to the point of shredding. Fran crossed her legs demurely, glancing at Randi briefly with a look that said plainly, "I really don't give a damn what you saw, Mrs. Malone." She patted her hair into place and then studied her nails.
Bob came towards his mother, his eyes apologetic. As he approached, Randi could not help but notice the strange, almost painful way he walked and the slight, diminishing bulge along his left leg beneath the tight material of his swim suit. The beginning of a stain showed through the light material, and Randi knew all too well that the wetness was the residue of his aroused young cock; she had unwittingly seen the premature droplets of clear liquid oozing from her husband's pulsing member many, many times.
Bob said haltingly, "Mom, I ... "
"Never mind," Randi said stiffly, handing him the two gin and tonics, trying to keep her eyes away from the front of his swim trunks. "Why don't you and ... her go out by the pool now."
"Will you join us, Mom?"
"I don't think so," Randi answered. "I have to see about dinner."
"All right," Bob said. He turned back toward Fran on the couch, balancing the drinks in one hand.
Randi sighed silently, tremulously, and went into the kitchen. She took the prime rib out of the refrigerator and began to prepare it, along with the parsley potatoes, celery stalks, pea-and-tomato salad, and dessert. As she stood in front of the sink washing the vegetables she looked out the window, catching occasional glimpses of Bob and Fran frolicking in the pool. The pool was in front of the living room, but as Fran or Bob would use the diving board at the near end, their robust young bodies were in full display to Randi, much to her consternation. Her hands shook and she closed the cafe curtains, blotting the view from her eyes but not from their mind, and the screams and laughs of pleasure still invaded the stillness of her work.
"Oh God, what's the matter with me!" she moaned. "I have got to get a grip on myself." She clutched the sides of the counter, unable to shake the lewd thoughts which raced through her head. Randi had been brought up strictly, a product of a Mid-Western Baptist family, and her brothers and sisters were all straight-laced, stern people even to this day. She had never been a wild person, even as a high school girl, dating very little and under the watchful eye of her parents.
Randi had hated the clinically detailed sex talk of her girl friends, and would often find excuses to leave the room when one of them would relate how good sexually this or that boy was. She still remembered the horror she had felt in seeing the mementoes that her friends carried in their purses, little reminders such as tied rubbers of semen-their latest boyfriends' testament of manhood.
And the boys-carrying the pubic hairs of the girls in their wallets. And their heavy, beer-laden breath and groping, savage farm-calloused hands clutching her ripening breasts and thighs. She had never succumbed to any of them, never allowed anything more than heavy kissing. She knew her high school nickname of "Frigidaire" fit her, although the kids who had tagged her as that would have been surprised at the surge of desire which would flow through her when aroused. She dismissed her natural feelings as depraved signs of the devil, and she would pray extra hard on Sunday after particularly heated Saturday nights. No, sex was evil, only to be accepted in marriage.
Then came Gary. He was louder, brasher, more cocky than any man she had ever met. He didn't walk; he strutted. He would throw his head back and bark laughter, especially at anything obscene. He billed himself as The Man With The Biggest, claiming there was no girl who wouldn't go down for him. He looked upon Randi as a challenge, and Randi looked upon him as the personification of everything she abhorred. But she was fascinated with him, as a child is with fire. She couldn't stay away from him, despite his filthy, coarse habits and his grasping, tiger-like attacks on her virginity.
But then ... there came that night. That night, the night when he had become enraged with an illicit bottle of hard liquor, and crazed with desire.
"Prick-teaser!" he had cursed her, and her blouse was ripped from her shoulders. That night, the night of the summer dance at the park pavilion; that night, the night she became pregnant.
She would not look at his hirsute parts. She could only scream and fight back, but weakly, the pent-up force of her own desires breaking through her reticence. He forced her hand to grasp his engorged penis, made her spread her young legs and accept his cock, then heaved his weight down upon her so she could not move.
Randi never forgave him for that. She had been raped, but worse was the subconscious realization she had wanted him as much as he wanted her. Randi had silently begged for his huge prick to tear her hymen, to fill her swollen pussy to its fullest, to feel the purplish head rip and tear and bang against her cervix. "Bottoming out" with sub-human savagery, he had heaved and pumped until with a tremendous cry he had filled her helpless vagina with boiling, seething spurts of semen. He had also filled her womb, though neither knew it, of course.
She had hated him for it at the time, and when her parents forced her to marry him when her pregnancy was discovered, she cringed from his touch. No other man had touched her since then, no man interested her, and she only allowed her husband to make love to her when she could not get out of it gracefully.
She was repulsed by him, and in turn, Gary treated her with thinly hidden contempt.
But watching her offspring, seeing his body which so closely paralleled Gary's of years ago, she couldn't help but feel the same strange fascination, the terrible anguish of sensual desire she had once felt for Gary. And with the same revulsion at herself, she tried to fight the weakening flesh of her body.
Randi choked back a cry of frustration and picked up the bottle of vin rose she was using for the sauce mix. She took a small glassful, letting the cool, tart liquid course down her throat. The wine calmed her blood and brought a temporary reprieve from her agony. She finished the preparation and called the two young people in.
Dinner was a quiet but tense affair. The prime rib was done perfectly, a richly pink medium rare, yet she found it tasteless. The few attempts at conversation trailed off into silence. Randi found that the sight of the food caused her throat to constrict, and after a short pretense at eating, she gave up and busied herself with serving and clearing away.
Bob and Fran ate listlessly, and afterwards they all went into the living room and turned on the television set. Bob poured another round of drinks for everybody. "Where's Dad?" he asked during a commercial.
"Still at the Club, I imagine," Randi replied.
"Drinking, I bet," he said with a little disgust. "Dad's turning into a regular booze-hound."
"That's no way to talk, Bob," Randi said sharply. "Treat your father with respect."
"Why? He doesn't treat you with anything except shit, and you know it. And face it, he comes home drunk four nights out of the week."
"That's not true!"
"The hell it isn't, Mom. I hear him. I hear you, too, when you're fighting at night."
It was true. All too true, but Randi didn't want to be reminded of it. She turned her head away, indicating the matter shouldn't be discussed further. Fran put her hand on Bob's leg, and he forgot about his father and concentrated on his girl.
"I-I better turn in," Randi said after another hour, no longer able to watch them together. "I'm sure you two want to be alone."
"Oh, no, stay, Mom," Bob said, but his offer lacked conviction.
Randi stood up. "No, thank you anyway. Good night, everybody. See you in the morning."
Bob and Fran murmured good nights, and Randi retired. She shut the door of her bedroom just as the first sighs escaped from Fran's lips, and the couch rustled slightly.
Randi undressed in the pale, amber light from the night stand lamp and stood looking at herself briefly in the full-length mirror on the closet door, feeling somewhat ashamed of her perfectly-formed body as seen in the diffused glow. She put on the long, flowing pink gown, the one Gary hated because it hid her ripe beauty from his eyes, and then switched off the lamp and slid beneath the covers of the double bed.
She lay there for awhile, her eyes open and staring at the ceiling, thinking of Bob and of what she had witnessed between Fran and him, the bitch, that afternoon. Had he made love to her already? she wondered. Well, of course he had; that display this afternoon was not one which two people who had not previously been intimate would engage in. Oddly, Randi found herself trying to picture Bob making love, trying to see in her mind's eyes his erect penis and throbbing with desire and his handsome face contorted in passion. But then waves of shame washed over her and she thought, No, No, I mustn't think such wicked, evil things, not about Bob, not about my own son.
Through a conscious effort of will, Randi managed to blank her mind-the way she always did on the nights she was forced to succumb to Gary's love-making. After a time, she felt a warm and welcome lethargy come over her, felt herself drifting off to sleep, and her body relaxed as her mind opened to the drowsiness ...
Randi awoke with a start. Sounds, faint and unintelligible, had penetrated her sleep-fogged brain and brought her instantly alert. She sat up on the bed, rubbing her eyes, listening. Whispering voices, as if coming from a great distance, penetrated from somewhere outside the closed bedroom door. She glanced at the luminous dial of the clock on the night stand. It was after eleven now, almost an hour since she had gone to bed.
Randi pulled the covers back and swung her bare feet to the spongy bedroom carpet. She padded to the bedroom door and opened it quietly.
The voices, which were obviously coming from behind the closed door of the guest room, directly opposite Gary's and her bedroom, were almost recognizable. The first realization of what this meant-voices, two voices, in the guest room, two voices which could only be those of Bob and Fran -flooded through Randi in that moment. Holding her breath, she moved silently across the hall and stood with her ear pressed to the panel of the guest room door.
Fran's voice said distinctly, "You have such a lovely cock, Bob dear. It's so big, so hard ... oh, lover, every time I see it I want to suck it and suck it and suck it."
Randi recoiled in abject repulsion, her breath catching in her throat. Had she heard correctly? Dear God, was that bitch Fran actually going to perform such a debasing act as ... as ... She couldn't bring herself to even think the word; it was a perversion, an act which only filthy old men and whores engaged in.
"Put it in your mouth, honey," she heard Bob's voice say, low and moaning. "That's it, oh, yes, that's it, now run your tongue across the opening ... ahhhh ... yes yes yes, now suck it, suck it!"
"Mmmmmmm."
"Oh Christ that feels so good ... wait, now, move your ass up a little ... there, that's it, I want to put my finger in your cunt and finger fuck you."
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!"
"Harder, Fran, suck harderharderharder ...!" Bob's voice rose almost hysterically, and Randi stood petrified, unable to move, fascinated by the sounds of sheer lust coming from within. "Oh, I think I'm going to cum, keep sucking, keep sucking, I'm almost there ... "
Randi felt an incredible dryness in her mouth and throat as she listened. She wanted to turn and run, escape from those vile, disgusting sounds, blot the imagined scene in the darkness of the guest room from her mind. But she was unable to make her legs work. She could only stand and listen, moistening her lips, thinking involuntarily of Bob's lean, bronzed body lying on the bed, his penis erect, its blood-swollen head hidden inside the moist redness of Fran's mouth, her long black hair lying across his stomach, covering his abdomen and his testicles, kneeling there and performing the pagan ritualistic rite of fellatio on him ...
Bob's voice, panting and moaning, came to her, "Why did you stop, oh God honey, why did you stop?"
Fran laughed, a low throaty purr, an evil sound. "You don't get to cum yet, lover," she breathed. "First, you have to do your duty. Do you want to lick my cunt?'
"Yes! Oh, yes."
"Here it is, lover. All juicy and waiting for you. See, look how it's throbbing there, waiting for your tongue. Isn't it lovely?"
"It's gorgeous!" Bob wailed.
"Then lick it," Fran crooned. "Put your tongue in it. Now, now, oh that's the way to do it, lover, lick my clit ... "
Run, Randi's mind screamed. Don't stay and listen to this! Oh, Lord, it was awful! But she didn't run; she couldn't run. She was mesmerized by what her ears were hearing. She felt strange, as if she were no longer a part of herself, as if she were viewing herself objectively, from somewhere outside her own body.
"Faster, faster, that's it ... " Fran was crying out in ecstasy now. "Ohhhhh, yessss, faster faster ... "
"I ... want ... to ... fuck you ... now," Bob's voice said in frenzied lust, making little slobbering sounds. "I ... want to ... put it ... in your cunt ... right now."
"Yes, yes, put it in my cunt!"
"Deep inside it, just ... like ... this!"
"Yes, yes, oh yes ... ahhhhhhhhh ... oh, lover, it feels so ... ahhhhhhh ... so good good ... oh fuck me, fuck me, like you never fucked me before, fuck me fuck me fuck me ...!"
Randi could feel sweat flowing freely on her body now, beneath the folds of the pink gown. Down between her tightly clenched thighs her own pussy was tingling, tingling in a strange way, tingling like it had never done before. She didn't understand it, couldn't understand it; she was almost in a hypnotic state now, beyond all rationality, transfixed by what she heard, aroused by it. Her left hand began to slide down along her body, down the flat plane of her sides and across her stomach to rest on her own pubic mound, to rest there and then to begin to rub back and forth back and forth through the silk material. She could feel wetness flowing on her thighs, flowing freely from her inflamed pussy. Her right hand came up to squeeze one of her breasts, to feel the turgid nipple leap to her touch.
The moaning from within the guest room was almost incoherent now as her son and the girl thrashed about on the bed in wild wantonness. Randi began to gather up the nightgown, bunching folds of it in her left hand, drawing it further and further up along her firm, full thighs, exposing the whiteness of them higher and higher, finally revealing the triangular silkiness of her cunt. Holding the gown bunched at her waist, Randi lowered her right hand to the mound and began to rub it as she had done before, knowing what she was doing was wrong, was evil, but powerless to stop herself, rubbing harder and harder, her middle finger sliding along the wet cunt lips, finding her clitoris, teasing the erect little member with her fingernail, feeling waves of consuming pleasure ripple through her. She dropped her finger still lower, insinuating it into her tight vagina, in and out, in and out, with her thumb now working her clit.
"Get ... the ... Vaseline," Fran moaned through the door.
Bob breathed, "For my asshole ... "
"For both of ours, lover. It's better that way. Hurry ... oooh, hurry, damnit, I can't wait!"
There was a small yelp and the springs of the overworked mattress protested, and Randi heard the unmistakable snap of Fran's suitcase latches as Bob obviously opened it.
"That's it, that's it," moaned Fran moments later.
Randi shut her eyes, trembling, the lurid picture of what was transpiring four feet from her surging through her mind. She could picture their respective anuses, the little brown rings buried in the soft white crevasses of their buttocks as they stretched wide to meet invading objects.
"Yes, oh yes!" Fran panted. "Every bit of it, lover ... I want you to jam that prick all the way in, clear up to my throat!"
Randi heard Bob's lunging gasps as he tore into Fran's asshole. She imagined his stiff rod as it thrust harder into Fran's puckered anus, the merciless screwing as the whiteness of his cock slipped in and out, the opening grasping him with rubbery firmness.
"Oh, oh oh!" came the guttural sounds from the bedroom.
Randi was caught up in the frenzy of the moment. She moved on the rug, letting her glistening thighs fall open. She propped one leg against the door jam, and the shock of the houses' cool evening air wafting over her steaming cunt gave her a new shudder of ecstasy. The wet, sucking noise of her masturbation became clearly discernable to Randi, and her body heaved and jerked in time to her whipping fingers. She secreted heavily, more heavily than she had even remembered, the "slush, slush ... squish ... squish" sound as her hand slapped and slid around the slick flesh, occasionally forming a suction of its own.
Almost brutally she cupped her breast now, milking it as one would an udder, pinching the tender nipple with a wild animal-like abandon.
"Oh, Fran, your finger," groaned Bob suddenly. "I love it, love it!"
"I'll try two, my sweet. There's room this time!"
Randi wanted to scream, to wail in unison with the two in the bedroom as she became almost delirious with her own maddening passion. She was obviously on the same trip as they were, straining to hold back the explosion inside her. As Bob was receiving Fran's fingers, groaning with the combined pain and pleasure, Randi took her hand from her breast with conscious thought, licked her left forefinger and reaching around under her full, ripe buttocks, rubbed the puckered ring of her own anus. She blanked the inherent knowledge that she was doing wrong from her mind caught up in her own depraved sexual hunger. She didn't care. She inserted her finger, slowly, in her tiny, resisting rectum and nearly went out of her mind with the excitement of the entrance.
"Oh ... lover ... oh, tell me ... you love me ... " Fran wailed in time to the strokes. "Tell ... me ... you ... love ... me!"
"Damn ... damn ... Fran," Bob gasped, "I ... love ... you ... more ... "
"More than ... anybody?"
"Oh hell yes ... wonderful ... love you ... love to fuck you."
Randi's breath rasped in short hot exhalations. She was going to cum! Frantically she moved her clit, her cunt, with the fingers of her right hand, impaling herself on the left forefinger buried to the first knuckle in her spongy rectum. She was cumming!
"Fuck me ... Bob ... Oh fuck me harder!"
Randi could almost make herself believe it was she saying that instead of Fran. She ground harder and deeper, quivering under the pressure, gasping for the imminent release.
Fran screamed. "Aaaagg!" And then, again, "AAAAAggghhh I'm cumming! Oh, God ... keep on! UUUUggggghhhhhhhhh ... "
Then came Bob's low cry of delight as he burst the seeds of his desire into Fran. "Yyyeeessss! Yyyeeesssss!
As if by remote control, the simultaneous ejaculations of Bob and Fran triggered Randi. She strained and stretched her legs out wide in sudden convulsion and the earth seemed to open up beneath her. She lifted herself off the rug in a spasmodic arch, grasped the bone wall of her cunt and squeezed, squeezed, squeezed ... Then suddenly she collapsed, and breathing raggedly, she slid to the floor. She could still hear noises, but they were noises of contentment, no longer of passion. Exhausted, Randi slowly dragged herself to her feet, wobbling slightly. Her gown stuck to the sticky sides of her thighs, and she could see a dark spot on the rug where she had lain.
She groped her way to the bedroom door. All she wanted to do now was sleep, to forget what she had heard, and then done to herself. The shame she had blotted from her mind now came back tenfold, and the feeling was one of deep personal revulsion.
The front door banged open and Randi turned, startled. She clutched the nightgown around her protectively.
"God damn it!" came a rough, bellowing voice. "Why aren't there any lights on!" There was the sound of a hand groping on the wall and then the hall was flooded with light. Randi shielded her eyes from the unaccustomed brilliance and looked at her husband.
"Gary ...!" she exclaimed weakly.
"Ahah! You're up! What the hell are you waiting for? Me?" Gary lurched drunkenly down the hall toward her, his eyes blazing with lust and liquor.
Randi shrank back from the big man. The muscles of his youth had fallen to flab around his waist, the beer and bourbon he constantly drank adding fat of their own. His once handsome face was bloated and botched and his nose road mapped with tiny broken blood vessels. His greying hair was shaggy and unkempt and his tie was loosened and drawn almost to the collar of his wrinkled shirt. Randi's stomach churned at the sight of this sloppy, drunk male, the love she had once hoped to feel for him turned to loathing.
"No, Gary, I ... " What was she doing? Randi thought suddenly. I can't tell him what I really was doing, oh not that, not ever! "I was ... "
"Ah crap, I don't care. Just so long's you're not asleep." Gary staggered backwards a step and laughed. The cynical, throaty roar echoed.
"Quiet! You'll wake everybody."
"Shhh," mimicked Gary, coming closer. "That's right, our little boy is home tonight. With his girl, too. Right?"
"Yes. I don't want-"
"Sweet lil Bob. Our child." Suddenly Gary snarled. "Crap! Your child, that's who. Not ours. Old whore like you. Well, you're going to get it tonight, old whore. Just like you deserve!"
"No, please, Gary."
Gary lunged at Randi, throwing them both against the wall, clamped a hand onto her right breast, squeezing the succulent nipple cruelly. It was raw from her own handling, and pain slashed through her as he manipulated the tender bud. "Please, Gary ... please be gentle."
Gary didn't reply, but his mouth dipped greedily and crushed against her lips, the fumes of stale bourbon nearly blacking her out. He felt the resilient flesh give way and then tasted the inside of her mouth as he forced her teeth apart and thrust his tongue deep within; her salty-sweet saliva co-mingled with his own.
He drew back for an instant, his hand still firmly around the globe of her breast, and grinned. "In the bedroom, sweets, in the bedroom ... now!" He pushed her into the room and she stumbled back, then she struck the bed with the back of her legs and fell onto it.
"Oh ... nooo ... please, Gary. Please not like this!" Randi pleaded, but her words fell unheeded.
He reached into his pocket and took out some change. He cupped his hand, staring at the few coins, and then with the slow care of a drunk, he picked out a quarter. He threw it at her. "There's your pay, sweets. Keep the change." He thought that was especially funny, and laughed long and hard at the joke.
Randi was frightened, but more than that, she was mortified. She knew that Bob and Fran, lying naked together across the hall, must be listening. They couldn't help but hear the raucous sounds coming from Gary. Her degradation was complete, first with Bob's choice of a girl, then her own masturbation as she savored their wicked love-making, and now her husband's final act of defilation.
Gary ripped at his clothes, thrusting his shirt and pants from him in reckless disregard. The shoes were thrown across the room without care, hitting the wall and narrowly missing a picture. He dropped his shorts, his heavy thick penis growing and expanding until it looked as though it was going to burst. He reached down and stroked his mammoth girth, making thrusts with his pelvis in a lewd caricature of copulation. "Wait until you get all of me tonight, sweets," he roared. "I'm going to fuck you silly!"
Randi stared at the red bulbous head of her husband's prick as he came toward her. He now wore nothing but his undershirt and black socks. Her eyes widened with hypnotized disbelief at what was going to happen, for as many times in the years of marriage as he had taken her, rarely had he been as pent up or violent as tonight. She knew she was going to be violated. Gary was going to use her as his sexual receptacle, for gratification of his own burning desires and nothing more. He was going to be an animal, a gross, carnal beast. She raised her legs defensively and shrank back on the bedspread, whimpering helplessly to herself.
Gary ignored Randi's fear. He took hold of the hated nightgown by the nape of its neck and tugged. The straps bit into Randi's shoulders before the material gave, and then it was off, a torn and shredded rag savagely rendered from her body.
He threw himself down upon his wife, feasting on her perfection. He held her wild, straining form, pinioning her helplessly with his heavy, tensed chest. Her long blonde hair swirled violently and her lovely face became grotesquely contorted in terror, but he ignored that as he had ignored her pleas, and then he fucked her.
There was no foreplay, no arousing of her desires, no concern for what she felt. He was ready, had been for the last two hours of drinking. He had left the Country Club with a hard-on, and he wasn't about to waste any more time. He forced himself brutally upon her, spreading her long-slim legs, his hips falling heavily between them to wedge her cunt into a wide-splayed position. If it had not been for her earlier excitement, she would have been torn apart as he thrust his blood-filled penis between her fleshy lips. He ground his pelvis into her squirming, defenseless crotch, the hollows of her thighs drawing his hand to them automatically. He moved his big rod around in a momentarily vain effort to find the cunt hole he knew was there, and finally he was forced to grasp his cock and work it into her soft, enraged flesh until he found the moist vaginal slit. He plunged deep, deep into her quivering cunt, ramming mercilessly.
Randi tried to hold back the squeal of pain, ashamed that Bob and Fran would know of her debasement, but the agony of his barbaric impalement was too great. She cried out and whipped her legs in a vain effort to escape. It only made matters worse, and Gary stroked harder and farther within her, his steel hard battering ram splitting her warm, yielding cunt as an axe would a log.
"Look, look, you whore," Gary commanded. He raised his chest up slightly and she was forced to look between her trembling breasts to where his giant, ponderous cock violated her tight pink cunt lips, at her own pubic hairs grazing his curly growth where her soft yielding vaginal lips slipped around his shaft as he dipped and stroked, at her thighs rubbing his bouncing testicles.
"Ooohhh no, Gary, please ... please stop," she groaned. "I can't take all of you ... you're hurting me ... you're ... oh god ... "
Harder and faster Gary went, a crazed bull without any feeling except for his wildly moving prick, his total commitment the fucking of the woman beneath him. Their genitals crashed together with resounding slaps, colliding with sadistic repetition. Randi's stomach churned in repulsion and she waited loathingly.
"Oh no ... oh please, Gary ... " She mewed with helpless humiliation. "It hurts ... hurts so much ... "
"You're going to yell with pleasure, sweets," he growled back, "So ... help me ... you are ... "
Gary kept on drubbing in and out of her like some mad machine, like some rutting beast, his one inflamed idea to squirt his load of churning sperm inside her soft belly. He felt the throbbing, seething buildup inside his balls, the quicksilver tickling at the base of his cock as he jammed it to the hilt, and knew he was about to cum. He rammed forward with all his energy, the full extent of his incited cock sunk cruelly to her womb. Randi whimpered, a futile gesture which only seemed to excite Gary more. He locked his mouth to hers as the sperm began to rise in his body, and he mashed her tits to his chest and pushed her shoulders back. He forced his hands under the white cheeks of her ass, pulling them up to meet him even more, his testicles screwing tightly down into the wide split crevice of her buttocks.
Randi wailed loudly as she was plundered almost beyond endurance. He's mad! An insane rapist! He's going to kill me! Her arms were pinned down to her sides and she could feel the giant prick of his as it slid up and down her inflamed cuntal channel like a red-hot iron cudgel ... and the beat of his testicles against her inner thighs and the rush of air cooling her every time he extracted his pistoning cock.
Gary reached his explosion. Wildly, he thrust his tongue into her mouth and his cock flared with sudden hugeness as the sperm amassed inside it. The hot white liquid shot into Randi like molten lava, spewing forth in giant bursts, flooding the already overflowing cavern of her pussy. Gary skewered his wife a few more times in an effort to milk his balls dry, and the enormous prick continued to send out never-ending rivers of cum until the base of his cock and the spread beneath were saturated with the run-off.
Randi jerked her legs out to the full width wildly, convulsing and quaking. "Ooohhaag," she cried unintelligibly with his tongue still in her mouth.
Gary offered one final spurt, and the last dregs of sticky sperm leapt into her pussy, then he fell forward. His prick began to retreat, to shrivel and grow limp and he breathed deeply and with great satisfaction. Randi moved from beneath his semi-conscious body, wriggling around until she was free and his flaccid cock slid from her ravaged vagina. A thick cord of cum stuck to its head and dribbled on her soft mat of pubic hair and left an obscene trail across her leg as he turned drunkenly over on his side.
Randi didn't move until she heard him start to snore. He had long since given up even a rudimentary good night, but went to sleep immediately. Then she moved as far over on the bed as she could. She stared at him for awhile, the mere sight of his naked body repugnant to her, and then she buried her head in the pillow. Gary was her husband and no matter what, she wasn't going to divorce him, but she hated him. She lay awake for hours thinking of what he had done to her and then, weeping with her agonized revulsion, she drifted off to a restless but necessary sleep.
Chapter 2
Randi awoke shortly past eight the following morning. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she glanced over at her husband's hairy form on the rumpled bed beside her; he lay on his back, his breathing regular, his features relaxed in sleep. He looked almost handsome, she thought fuzzily, but then she turned back again and her right breast rubbed against the mattress, causing her to wince with pain. Examining the soft spongy flesh, she discovered a bluish finger imprint, sensitive to the touch, along its side.
She drew the sheet down and found more bruises on the tender flesh of her soft white belly and thighs. Gary's attack the night before had been even more vicious than she had imagined at the time. She looked at his sleeping face again, but this time he was no longer handsome, was in fact gargoyle ugly. He's a beast, she thought. He's a coarse, vulgar animal beast.
Quietly, she slipped out of bed and padded naked to the sliding knotty pine doors of her closet. She moved stiffly, and as she studied the hangars of garments inside the closet, she knew she was much too sore for the restrictions of nylon panties or cotton elastic bra-even anything which would cling to her body. Finally, she chose a pair of brightly colored, paisley print culottes; removing them from their hanger, she turned.
Gary was awake now, watching her from the bed, his lips twisted into an obscene smile. "Why bother with those, baby?" he asked her. "Go on out with your twat flapping loose and give everybody a cheap thrill."
"Shut up!" she hissed at him. "Shut your filthy mouth!"
He bellowed with laughter, flinging the sheet from across his body and stretching languidly. Randi flashed him a look of utter loathing. In answer, he picked up his limp penis between his right thumb and forefinger and shook it at her. In spite of herself, Randi found her eyes lingering on the flaccid member, the brown wrinkled sac beneath; then, thinking again of what it had done to her only a few hours earlier, she averted her eyes and began to dress hurriedly in the culottes.
When she had finished, she started for the bedroom door. Her eyes inadvertently went to the bed another time, and Gary, still watching her, wiggled his prick teasingly. Trembling, she stalked out into the hall, pulling the door shut sharply behind her.
No one else was up, although she heard the guest room toilet flush as she passed by the door. In the kitchen, she banged and clattered the pots and dishes about, starting the coffee, setting the table, cutting the cantaloupe, mixing buckwheat pancake batter. As she moved, the material of the culottes rubbed against the hard, ripened buds of her nipples, indicators that she had been more excited by the sight of Gary's monstrous cock and balls and the taunt he had thrown at her, than she had allowed herself to believe. But how could that be? How could any decent woman want a man after what had happened last night? She looked down at the long serrated-edge knife with which she was quartering the melon, at the comfortable, almost friendly way its bone handle fit her hand, and for one horrid moment she was holding aloft the flexuous pecker she had seen moments earlier, exposing its bluish under veins, and then she was bringing the knife arcing down to ...
Oh, God! Randi thought, and she flung the knife from her; it clattered into the sink just as Bob, clad in a T-shirt and casual slacks, entered the kitchen.
"Mom, what is it?" he asked with concern.
"Nothing," she said. "I ... I just dropped the knife, that's all. It slipped out of my hand. I'm all right."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure," Randi said. "Would you like some coffee?"
"Fine."
She poured him a cup as he sat at the dinette, finding it impossible to look at him directly, to say anything more than was absolutely necessary to him. Too much had happened the previous night-the overheard scene with Fran, its attendant degrading acts, her own masturbation and subsequent loud rape-to be able to act as if the night had never existed.
After a time, Fran came and sat down next to Bob after kissing him in a sisterly way on the forehead. Wearing a skimpy halter and a pair of yellow short-shorts, her black hair tied into a pony-tail at the nape of her neck, she reminded Randi of a sleek, well-fed, contented cat. Even her "Good morning, Mrs. Malone" had a purring quality to it. Randi noticed the long sloe-eyed gaze she gave to Bob, and his sheepish reaction, and turned back to the counter trembling.
"Breakfast ready?" Gary's voice sounded from the kitchen doorway. He came in, wearing a large smile, a pair of Bermuda shorts in green-and-black plaid, and a form-fitting knit shirt. He crossed to where Randi stood at the sink, patted her affectionately on the buttocks and then sat down at the table. His eyes moved with what seemed to Randi to be open lasciviousness over the svelte, textured body of Fran Crocker-but neither Fran nor Bob seemed to notice. Then his eyes moved to Bob and he said warmly, "Good to see you again, son. Sorry I missed the homecoming yesterday, but you know how it is."
"Sure," Bob replied dryly. "I guess something came up at the club."
Ignoring the remark, Gary let his eyes return to Fran. He smiled appreciatively. "Aren't you going to introduce me, son?"
"Dad, this is Fran Crocker, my fianc�e," Bob said gravely. "Fran, my father, Gary Malone."
Fran dipped her face demurely. "How do you do, Mr. Malone."
"Gary, please; no formalities in my house."
" ... Gary," Fran said hesitantly.
"She's beautiful," he said to Bob. "By God, son, I always knew you had excellent taste, and this young lady confirms it. You've done the Malone name proud."
You pompous fool, Randi thought. She served the buckwheat cakes in pursed-lip silence, setting out the cantaloupe quarters, pouring coffee. Then she sat down at her place next to her husband and began picking at the food, having no appetite at all, she kept her eyes cast downward to her plate.
Gary poured maple syrup generously on his cakes. "Why don't you two go over to the club today?" he said to Bob. "There's tennis and golf, and they've added a high dive tower to the pool since you went off to USC."
Bob moved his head negatively. "I'm afraid I can't make it. I've got to see a fellow in San Francisco about a summer job; he's the father of a guy I met at school, and he owns an electronics distributorship. There's a good chance he might need another phone man in the sales office." He touched Fran's bare arm possessively. "And if Fran and I are going to get married, I'm going to need all the money I can get if we're both going back to school next year."
"Joe Leavitt called yesterday," Randi put in. "He asked me to tell you to drop around to his new apartment in Beaumont today if you could. The two of you haven't seen one another since Christmas."
"Is he still working for his dad's lumber company?"
"Yes. In fact, his father is taking him in as a full partner."
"Hey, great," Bob said. "Well, I guess I'd better stop by today and congratulate him, then. I can do that after I get back from the city."
Randi refilled his cup. "I'd rather you didn't use the wagon," she said. "I'm leaving for the bridge club at Doris Adams' right after I clean up the dishes."
"All right if I borrow the Healey, Dad?"
"Sure," Gary told him, and then to Fran, "You planning to go along to San Francisco, honey?"
"Well, I don't think so," Fran said. "I'd only be in the way. I'd like to just get some sun by your pool if that's all right."
"Sure, sure," Gary told her expansively. "Looks like it's going to be a fine day for sunbathing."
"What are you going to do, Gary?" Randi asked him.
"I guess I don't have much choice," he answered. "With both cars gone, it looks as if I'll be sticking pretty close to the house myself. Anyway, the lawn needs mowing and I've been putting it off for too long; the neighbors are going to report me to the Community Beautification League if I don't."
After breakfast, Randi was clearing away the dishes when Bob came into the kitchen again. Fran had gone to change into her swimming suit-that shameless bikini again, most likely, Randi thought peevishly-and Gary was puttering around with the power mower in the garage.
Bob came to where she stood at the sink and put his arm around her waist. "Mom ... " he started to say, and then, "Mom, I-I ... I know how you feel."
Randi leaned against his arm, the beginnings of hot tears forming on her lower lids. She had been feeling sorry for herself, alone there, and Bob's presence brought everything welling to the surface. "Do you?" she asked softly.
"I ... heard you and Dad last night. I don't know what I can say, except-"
"Please," Randi whispered softly. "Don't say anything."
"That son of a bitch!" Bob snapped suddenly, vehemently. "Damn him to hell for the way he treats you!"
"Bob, don't talk that way about your father," she said automatically, and then wondered why she leapt to Gary's defense. God knew, Bob's description was completely accurate, at least figuratively.
"I'm sorry, Mom," Bob apologized. "It's just that ... well, I can't understand what motivates a man like him sometimes."
Nor can I, Randi thought silently. She felt her strength fall away. Bob's rock-ribbed body was a shield to her, a welcome post against which to lean, and she wanted to take him into her arms and hug him close to her breast, as she would a lover, but the cold, inescapable realization that he was her son prevented her from doing so-even though she so desperately needed the love and affection a man could offer, a man who was not the hot male beast her husband was.
Finally, she broke the spell and moved back from her son. "You'll ... you'll be late if you don't hurry," she said haltingly. "Hurry now. I'll be all right, really I will be."
"Okay, Mom," he said reluctantly. Quickly, he kissed her cheek and then retreated to his bedroom to change into a suit for his San Francisco interview.
Slowly, Randi washed the dishes. When she had finished, she went into Gary's and her bedroom and changed into loose-fitting white flared-bottom slacks and a frilly blouse. She stood before the full-length mirror fastened to the back of the door momentarily, smoothing the material and pirouetting slowly. Then, realizing with embarrassment that she was admiring her trim figure, she hurriedly took her purse and left the house. Bob had already gone, and Fran, lying on one of the chaise lounges by the pool, waved gaily to her; Randi pretended not to notice. Gary was nowhere to be seen as she started the wagon and backed out of the driveway.
Doris Adams was especially glad to see her when she arrived, since many of the regular bridge club members were on vacation or unable to attend due to prior commitments. As a result, instead of the usual three tables, there were only enough girls present for two.
Randi couldn't seem to keep her mind on the bidding, and after two hours decided that she had made a mistake attending the session at all. On the pretext of a migraine headache, she excused herself and departed at least an hour and a half earlier than usual. She would, she decided as she bid Doris good-bye and walked to the wagon, go home and lie by the pool for a time; perhaps, that way, she would be able to relax, to ease some of the tension which the events of the past two days had instilled inside her.
When Randi arrived at the ranch style home, she noted that Gary had kept his promise about mowing the lawn; or, at least, he had half-kept it. The power mover rested in the middle of the driveway, and beside it was a five-gallon gasoline can, bright red with a flexible nozzle attached-Randi concluded that he had run out of gas and was in the process of filling the mower's tank from a second five-gallon can he kept in the garage, and instead of removing the blockage from the driveway, she pulled the wagon in to the curb in front. She crossed the spongy, half-cut lawn and entered the dimly cool interior.
Finding herself thirsty from the warm afternoon sun and the drive from Doris', she went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, taking out the quart container of lemonade she had made the previous morning. She carried it to the drain board, took a tumbler from the cupboard, and poured it full. Just as she raised the glass to her lips, the low, musical sound of girlishly high-pitched laughter reached her ears. It seemed to be coming from outside the window to the right of the sink, from the direction of the pool.
Frowning, Randi moved sideways to where she could look through the slit in the closed cafe curtains. At first she saw nothing; the section of the pool's placid blue water that she could see was deserted, and there was no one on the half-moon patio, although a towel rested on the chaise lounge which Fran had been occupying when Randi left earlier. But then, suddenly, a head bobbed up on the near side of the pool, the laughing face partially hidden by thin wet strands of raven black hair. A hand appeared to brush the hair away, and Randi, recognizing her son's fianc�e, thought absently: She's having a fine old time in there all by herself.
Randi started to turn away from the window, but just then Fran emitted a low squeal and her head disappeared, only to be replaced by another head, this one masculine, laughing boisterously, shaking water from the long, greying hair. Randi stopped. Well, she might have expected it; Gary had grown tired of mowing the lawn and had decided to join Fran in the pool, to frolic around like a little boy with his own son's fianc�e. It was a good thing the neighbors weren't able to see the two of them horsing around like that, what with the high green shrubbery walling off most of the rear yard from view.
Gary raised up in the pool, resting his arms on the edge, as Randi watched. A moment later, Fran bobbed up beside him, giggling. "That wasn't very nice, Gary," she said in a teasing voice.
"What wasn't?" he asked innocently.
"What you just did."
"What was that?"
"This!" Fran squealed again, and Gary yelped in surprise, and then both heads disappeared again.
What in the world were they doing in there? Randi wondered as first Gary reappeared, and then Fran. She heard Gary say, "You know what I'm going to do to you for that?"
"What?" Fran taunted.
Gary's head dipped forward, and Randi saw his lips meet the girl's, clinging there for a long moment. Randi stared open-mouthed. It really didn't surprise her that Gary would try to kiss Fran; but what did surprise her, shock her, was that Fran allowed it, that she didn't break away immediately. She was Bob's fianc�e, wasn't she? What kind of bitch was she, to let the father of her husband-to-be kiss her like that? Then Randi remembered the overheard sexual by-play in the guest room last night and answered her own question. Well, it was obvious what kind of bitch she was; a completely immoral little-
Fran and Gary broke apart. He said with mock anger, "Were you trying to swallow my goddamned tongue?"
"Didn't you like it?"
"Hell, yes!"
"I know something else you'll like."
"Do you?"
"Give me your hand."
There was a moment of silence, and then Gary breathed softly, "Jesus Christ!"
"Do you like them?"
"They're like two perfectly ripe melons!"
"You can kiss them if you want."
Gary needed no urging. His head dipped again, disappearing from Randi's view; Fran's eyes closed and her lips parted slightly. Randi stood frozen in abject horror. Oh, God, no! she thought. No, this can't be happening! Not her husband, not her son's fianc�e, not this, it couldn't be happening!
Fran opened her eyes then, and a smile curved her moist lips.
"What's this?" she asked throatily.
Gary's voice made an unintelligible sound from below the pool's edge.
"Why, it's a rock," Fran whispered. "It must be a rock. It's as hard as a rock."
Gary's head appeared again. He was breathing heavily, his mouth open. "Do you want to find out just what it is?"
"Yes, I think I'd like that."
"Here, then," Gary said in a deep voice. He rested one hand on the edge of the pool, and Randi knew, as she stood frozen in fascinated horror, that he was removing his swimming trunks with the other hand. Removing them to reveal ...
"Oh, my!" Fran's voice exclaimed then. "Oh, my my my!"
"Is it big enough for you?"
"It's like a pole!" she said. "Like a giant pole!"
Gary's breath caught in his throat. "You shouldn't do that."
"Don't you like it?"
"Sure I ... ummmm!"
"Isn't that nice, Gary, dear?"
"Let me take your bottom off!"
"I'll do it for you," Fran said huskily. And then, "There, now."
"Oh, Christ, what a sweet young pussy you have!"
"And what a fat old cock you have."
Randi felt an insane pressure building, building inside her head until she thought her temples would surely explode. No, no, no, no! her brain screamed. First last night, and now this-this filthy exhibition she was witnessing. It was too much for her to cope with; her whole world was beginning to shatter, to come apart at the seams, to crumble around her like broken shards of a fragile, treasured heirloom which had been suddenly and inexplicably cast to the floor.
Outside, in the pool, Gary's lust-quickened voice was breathing, "Fran, Fran, Oh, Jesus, you teasing little bitch ...!"
"Will you cum if I keep this up?"
"Yes! Yes!"
"Do you want me to jack you off right here in the pool?"
"Yes! Yes! Oh yes yes yes!"
"No!" Fran said suddenly, and then laughing, her head disappeared; a moment later, Randi saw her surface on the far side of the pool, tossing her dripping hair.
"Goddamn you!" Gary howled, and then he was flashing after her through the sunlit blue water, churning it to foam with scissoring kicks of his powerful legs. Squealing and laughing, Fran evaded him for several minutes, but then he caught her on the far side of the pool. Randi saw his hands go around her slim waist and lift her up into the air, out of the water. Fran was completely nude, and streams of water ran down across her perfectly rounded breasts, past the pinkish-brown nipples and aureoles, along the flat curve of her stomach to the raised, glistening, silky mound of her cunt. Gary sat her down hard on the cement side, her buttocks striking the solid edge sharply; Fran cried out in sudden pain, and he said triumphantly, "Serves you right, you little prick tease!"
But instead of becoming angry, Fran only laughed again. Sitting the way she was on the pool's edge, with Gary below her, she began to move her legs apart, wider, wider, exposing the red, narrow lips of her young hair-lined pussy to him. Her eyes lidded in a sultry way and she leaned back to rest on her hands, her full breasts pushed skyward, raising her hips slightly, undulating her pelvis so that her cunt seemed to leap toward Gary, and then retreat, leap toward him, retreat.
He watched it as if transfixed, his face only inches away from the moist slightly spread slit now. Fran's voice drifted across the pool, barely reaching Randi's ringing ears, "Come on, big man, show Fran how much of a man you are. Or haven't you ever eaten pussy before?"
"I'll show you who's a man!" Gary shouted, and his head snapped forward between her spread thighs, his mouth grinding down on her cunt lips, his tongue leaping into her lubricated vagina in the ultimate french kiss.
"Ohhhhh!" Fran moaned. "Ohhhh, that's nice, oh daddy, that's lovely!" Gary's head moved back slightly, but his words were discernible only to Fran. "Yes, I'm sorry!" she crooned. "Oh, yessss, I'm sorry I didn't make you cum, I'm sorrrrrry!"
Her body arched under his probing tongue and she lifted her legs, clasping her ankles back behind his neck, imprisoning his head between her thighs. Her hips were moving now in the motion of copulation, slowly at first, fucking his tongue slowly, but then faster and faster, fucking it wildly, her hips gyrating impossibly, lifting herself to an upright position and wrapping both her hands in his hair, trying to push his head and his molten tongue deeper into her cunt, to consume it, and then she was wailing, I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum, Gary darling darling darling I'm going to cuuuummmmmmmmm!"
The rising crescendo of Fran's ecstatic cry of climax served to break the almost hypnotic spell Randi had been under as she watched the lewd, lustful performance outside. Her brain began to function again, and her body reacted. Her legs worked. Tears flooded from her eyes, and she ran unseeingly from the kitchen, away from the vulgar, carnal act she had witnessed, her own husband kissing another woman there, she had never never never allowed him to do that to her, she had almost vomited when he tried; her brain was spinning crazily as she ran down the flagstone front walk and got into the station wagon, oh God she had to get away, she had to get away ...
* * *
Fran lay back on the warm floor of the patio, eyes closed, the tips of her toes touching the cool pool water, a pleasant tingling sensation in her pussy from Gary's ministrations only seconds earlier. God, she hadn't been gone down on like that in her life; not even sweet, immature Bob, forever willing, had been able to make her cum like this pot-bellied old man who was his father. Oh, he was good, alright; he was soooooo good.
She felt movement beside her and opened her eyes. Gary had climbed out of the pool and he was sitting next to her now in the sun, looking down at her, his lips wet and his face flushed crimson. Her eyes went to his lower belly. Lord, but he had a gigantic prick! Now she knew where Bob had gotten his lovely cock. Gary's member stood upright, its blood-swollen head throbbing, causing the entire length of it to jerk spasmodically.
He said in a panting voice, "Are you going ... to return the favor now?"
She moistened her lips. Should she tease the old boy a little while, like she had done in the pool? No, he had done such a lovely job on her that she really owed it to him to return the favor. "All right, big daddy," she said, and in an almost cat-lazy fashion she turned on her side and squirmed down until her eyes were directly across from Gary's immense cock. She studied the large pulsating shaft for a few moments, inspecting its blue and red detail of veins and arteries, its pink, ribbed skin textured like fine velvet, the bulbous head like the cap of some obscene mushroom, red with desire. She reached out a fingernail and stroked the brown circumcision ring, and the cock leapt to her touch.
"Damn you!" Gary moaned, almost beyond endurance. "Stop fucking around and do something."
Fran scratched her nail down the urethra tube, the most sensitive part of a penis, and then curled her hand around its base.
"UUUUhhhoooohhh," groaned Gary. "Christ!"
Fran rose to her knees and began sliding her hand up and down the hardened fleshy shaft, up and down in perfectly timed strokes, slowly at first, causing Gary's body to ache all the more. He lifted his buttocks off the ground slightly, thighs quivering with the magic touch of Fran. "Uuhhh, uuuhh," he panted in time to the movement of her hand. He leaned forward enthralled and doubly excited by watching her teasing fingers. He couldn't tear his eyes away, and his mind was filled with the thought of what his married life had been missing.
Fran increased her pressure and speed, grasping the ballooning cock in both hands, tearing into it as fast as she could.
"Aaaahhhhh! I'm going to cum!"
Fran let up her attack, and Gary's hips heaved and then fell. "Please!" he cried. "Please make me cum. I'm going crazy, you fucking little bitch!"
Fran laughed and began again. She took her left hand and cradled his balls, feeling the two sperm-bloated sacs writhe, worming her nails through his hair and along his inner thighs. Gary's huge prick had begun to dribble its clear lubricating liquid, and it flowed down her hand and pooled in his pubic hair. Some of it trickled between his legs, making her roving fingers slipperly. She felt him gasp and stiffen as her forefinger found his anus, and the tight sphincter muscle contracted with passion. "Oh God! Oh God!" Gary moaned.
Fran laughed deep inside and then rose to her knees and hovered over his shaking body, her face within inches of his moist throbbing penile head. She held his cock tightly with both hands, stroking it between the flat of her palms. Gary undulated beneath her in time to the maddening rhythm. Fran dipped her head and her pink-tipped tongue darted forward, boring teasingly at the dilated opening. Gary sucked in his breath, and his spine rippled from the chills her tongue had caused, and then he groaned again as she opened her mouth and enclosed the whole of his smooth, rubbery cock head with her hot, damp lips. Her mouth tightened as his rectum had moments earlier, her tongue swirling around the crown like some fantastic dervish. He raised his loins and drove the shaft farther in.
The sight of her action excited him even more. He peered along his chest at his hard maleness fucking her swollen mouth. He watched, fascinated, his cock glistening wet from her saliva like some rained on tree stump, as her red ovaled lips pushed against the shaft, convoluting as it slid in and out. He groaned over and over, and then clenched his teeth in incoherent mutterings as she worked harder.
Fran could feel his throbbing vibrations quicken and in reaction her heat began to build. She dug the tips of her teeth into his hard resisting flesh, leaving thin white furrows where they scraped the skin. Her tongue lashed out in increasing fury, roaring around the gland until Gary felt as if the top would explode. She bobbed her head faster and faster, bloating her cheeks with the full extent of his cock, feeling it lash the very back of her throat. Gary was certain she would gag on his shaft, suddenly choke as the tip battered her larynx, but she kept on in frenzied abandon.
Fran, uncontrollable, reached down between her legs with her left hand and began stroking her pussy. She parted her gushing lips, still dripping from Gary's tongue bath and wet from her own lubricity. She fingered the rising clitoris until it was as rigid as Gary's prick, then dipped a finger, then two, into her clasping, feverish cunt. Oh, it felt good! Oh, was it fine! She moved closer, more in line with Gary's body, rubbing her thighs and pubic hair against him.
"I've got to have you!" she gasped, almost incoherent with her mouth still full. "Fuck me!" Fuck me now!"
"Yes, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Gary chanted.
Her lips suddenly left his near bursting penis and Fran threw herself full length upon Bob's father. She twisted and squirmed, smashing her lips against his mouth and undulating her belly with his. "Oh you feel hard and nice," she whispered. "I want you inside me. Now!"
Her nails trailed across his chest and sides, and she grasped him roughly by the shoulders. Gary pushed his hands down her back and rolled her over so that he was on top and wedged tightly between her widespread legs. He rubbed his huge prick into her hungry cunt lips, sensing her vagina growing wetter and wider, as if it had life of its own. Her ass began a rotation of desperate proportions, snaking out wider still on either side of his thighs with her legs wide and calves locked against the back of his legs.
"OOOHHH, Now, Now! Fuck me, daddy, fuck me!" Her eyes were closed, but as Gary rose above her, ready to stab into the very depths of her body, she opened them wide.
Gary lunged, battering against her, not quite getting in. Fran's hands dove down and circled his member, guiding it throbbingly between the lips of her hot, pulsating vagina. Gary heaved as he felt his tool sheathed, and then she cried, "There!" and he plunged deep into the moist, hungry hole of his son's fianc�e. The soft hairs of her thighs grazed against him, holding all of him from fully penetrating her, and he lashed his hips in cruel, excruciating thrust.
"AAAAGGGHHHHHH!" Fran screamed. Her vaginal muscles sprang apart as would a virgin's, but then almost immediately they began to crawl and ripple along his prick as he moved inside her. Suddenly he hit bottom, and his balls slapped hard against her upturned anus.
Fran tried to hold back, to take his plunging, hardened cock less at a time, but her motion only skewered her tighter to him. She ground her pelvis beneath him as she strained, then arched her loins, meeting his pounding body.
"Ohh, it's good! It's wonderful!" She worked her legs back and forth, her flailing hips working in time against him. She felt his hardness in her warm cunt, sliding from the moisture of lips and secretions. A rivulet seeped its way between her legs, collecting beneath her writhing buttocks.
Gary felt his cock expand wildly. He thought it was going to split down the middle, it seemed so bursting. He stroked harder, the battering of her quivering little pussy beginning to send the load of hot, sticky cum up his balls. He was going to shoot her full in a minute, any minute, and the thought made him lash out like an infused satyr.
"Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes!" Fran wailed. "Ram me! Squirt your cum, darling, fill me up!"
Her sudden obscene comments only drove Gary on harder. He ground his pelvis into her soft, yielding flesh and reached down to grab the cheeks of her ass and pull her tighter until the resounding smacks of his naked belly against hers filled the air. His breathing became ragged and short. I'm losing control, he thought. My god, I'm going out of my fucking mind!
Fran heaved her hips against his cock, mercilessly. Nothing mattered except the sperm-loaded balls which were viscously whacking her thighs and ass, she could feel the sopping crevice squish against him, and her only thought was his magnificent cock pummeling her battered hole. She wanted Bob's father's semen, his white liquid spurting in her belly, and she was completely immersed in the deliciousness of his frenzied cudgel.
"I'm cumming! I'm ... c ... cumming!" Gary screamed and threw his head back as though wounded, and then he thrust his cock's full expanse deep within the young flailing girl. His mouth fell open and he clawed her buttocks convulsively. Torrents of hot white cream spilled from his prick, surging through the depths of her body. He continued to sputter and surge, pumping deep into her vagina and womb until it overflowed and ran in lewd, white rivulets down the wide spittle of her legs. The bursting hot liquid, at the same time, set off her climax, the delectable sensation charging through her and she poured forth her own juices, mixing and combining with his sperm in wild abandon. Gary throbbed in decreasing spasms ... then he let his body go limp and moaned in sheer exhaustion.
Fran collapsed, too, her body still quivering. She lay on her back, obscenely positioned beneath him with her legs wide, feeling slightly drowsy now, satiated.
God, there's just nothing like a good fuck she sighed to herself. Particularly, she smiled, one by your future father-in-law!
Chapter 3
Randi fled from her house, dazed and reeling with the horror of what she had witnessed. She still could picture her husband's face groveling down between Fran's open legs, and the girl urging Gary to greater speed as she jerked and squirmed beneath his stabbing tongue. Stumbling toward the parked station wagon, Randi choked back the racking sob which welled in her breast, brushing at the scalding tears which blinded her eyes.
"Oh God," she cried aloud, "I can't believe it!" She reached the wagon, threw open the door and slid inside, her hands trembling so badly she couldn't put the key in the ignition immediately. Finally she made the insertion and started the car; then, heaving the transmission lever into drive, she lurched down the quiet residential street, her mind panicked with fear and revulsion. What had come over them? They were both like ... like animals, like obscene rutting pigs, displaying their bodies and genitals ... and Gary-that horrid, wretched man-had he no pride, no decency? He has defiled the marriage vows, soiled the sacred bond between man and wife, and all for what? To commit an act of perversion on a bitch young enough to be his daughter. A young bitch who was engaged to marry their son!
Randi had never felt so humiliated and sick of spirit in her life. She could not understand her husband's sexual fervor. In going down on Fran, Gary had rejected Randi, had callously ruined what little remained of the trust and respect between them. Sobbing, Randi pushed her foot to the floor and the car leaped forward, sending her farther away, mercifully farther away, from the horrible, depraved acts she had just witnessed.
That whore, she thought bitterly. Fran, the girl Bob loved so deeply. Oh, I had a feeling about her right away, right from the first moment in the airport. The way she swung her hips and thrust her breasts out like some lewd slut. Yes, and later flung herself at Bob, squirming and rubbing against his body, exciting him with absolute wantonness. And then-that seduction in the guest room. Her Bob, whom she had raised to be a decent, moral abiding young man all these years, couldn't he see Fran for what she was? Was he so blind with love and devotion that he could overlook her corruption and lubricity?
The thought of her innocent son's unprincipled debasement by Fran galvanized her into action. She realized he had to be saved. The private hell that was her own life with Gary would be nothing compared to the anguish and torment Bob would suffer if he married that degenerate girl. She had to find him! She had to blurt out what she had seen and heard, mindful of the pain it would cause now but knowing that he would thank her one day, that his future happiness would be preserved.
For a moment Randi thought of Bob returning from San Francisco and witnessing what she had, and the unprepared boy's psyche being forever scarred at the horror of it. He was due home any time, she thought, possibly within minutes. She groaned, wondering if she should have stayed there and somehow broken up the lascivious exhibition herself instead of fleeing.
No, wait-Bob's words came back to her. What had he said at breakfast? Where was he going after his job interview? To Joe Levitt's place, that was it, to the apartment of his best friend, Joe Levitt! Then he would be there, not at home! She still had a chance!
Randi, the one burning thought of salvaging Bob's security, of protecting him from the likes of Fran, piercing through her own plight, wracked her brain for Joe Levitt's address in Beaumont, remembering finally that Joe had given it to her to give to Bob-and then remembering what it was.
Randi drove to the intersection of El Camino Real and Reskin Road, and after waiting for the light to change, she turned right on the heavily travelled El Camino and raced for the town of Beaumont. The communities which stretched along the Peninsula below San Francisco were attached like a string of sausages, one right after another. Beaumont was three such towns away, sandwiched between San Mateo and the affluent Hillsborough, about five miles south. Randi drove as fast as she dared, her mind fully absorbed with seeing Bob and resolving the agonizing hollowness she felt in the pit of her stomach.
Again the lurid view from the kitchen window flooded her brain, and again she relived the salacious nightmare of Gary and Fran on the cement pool edge, the way he had been kissing and licking between her legs ... Randi squirmed in the seat, horrified that she was unable to blot the sensuality from her mind. It was as though the events of last night and this morning had changed her, and Randi was forced to confess sickeningly to herself that she wasn't the same woman she had been this time the day before.
The heat and excitement between her husband and Fran began to stimulate her own body hotly, against her will. No, no don't let this happen to me she pleaded silently, but the more she tried to stop the waves of desire, the faster and heavier they rolled and crashed over her body like pounding surf. The vinyl seat seemed to push up against her, and Randi sensed the rounded edge of the cushion through the material of her slacks; the lack of panties heightened the pressure on her sensitive vaginal lips and inadvertently she rubbed herself gently against the cushion edge, working the corner of the seat deeper against her vulva. Her body began to rock faintly in the age-old rhythm of copulation. She felt her vagina moisten, and spread her legs slightly for better contact. The roughness of the tightened slacks brushed against her rising clitoris, making her gasp and jerk.
Randi looked guiltily out the side window as she passed an old man in a Rambler; then, realizing he couldn't be aware of her actions, she lay back and relaxed, mouth open with desire, and continued to grind her cuntal slit into the cushion, shivers of revulsion mingling with secret lewd stimulation. It seemed like an eternity before she pulled up in front of the large apartment complex where Joe Levitt lived. She stayed in the car for a long minute, collecting her ragged emotions, trying desperately to get a grip on herself. At last, sighing an anguished breath, she slowly opened the door and stepped out into the hot sun.
The apartment building took up a full block, a contractor's special, jerry-built-but with rents exorbitantly high. The front entrance had the type of stone archway popular in the Twenties, with a pseudo-Byzantine courtyard of tile and multicolored plants leading from the street to the main door. A wrought iron gate had been installed at the arch, apparently to hinder vandals from entering and/or carrying off the sculptured lady-with-jug who stood nude in the middle of the courtyard's small fountain.
Randi was afraid that the gate was locked as she approached, but it swung open as she tried its latch. There was a sign on the left hand side of the gate which said it would be locked after nine at night; another notice on the switch plate of buttons set into the stone interior wall read that the gate lock was out of order. She checked the name plates below the buttons and found one which had J. Levitt and D. Garrett printed on it. Apartment 314. Quickly she walked to the main door and took the elevator to the third floor.
The building, lacking air conditioning or proper insulation, was hot and stifling. The afternoon sun had baked the air in the ground floor hallway, and Randi had a passing thought that the apartments on the top floor, the third, would be like ovens. The elevator came to a halt, and she followed the carpeted hallway toward 314, anticipation rising at the thought of seeing Bob and confessing what his girl and her husband had done-were possibly still doing. At the door of Joe Levitt's apartment she paused, moistening her lips.
The door was slightly ajar, probably to let in whatever air might drift down the hall, Randi thought. She knocked timidly, calling out Bob's name softly and then Joe's. No answer came from within. She pushed and the door swung wider, still not producing an answer. She walked in, hesitantly looking for a sign of life.
"Bob?" she called out. "Joe?" Silence.
The small kitchen was to her right, a narrow set of counters piled with dirty dishes. Directly in front of her was the living room, replete with a stained white carpet, hi-fi stereo system, and modernistic, uncomfortable-looking furniture. The sliding glass balcony door stood wide open, and through it Randi could hear boisterous shouts drifting up from below.
Possibly they went for a swim, Randi said to herself. She walked across to the doorway and then out on the narrow ledge, peering down at the pool in the middle of the apartment complex. It wasn't large enough for the many apartments surrounding it, and she could barely see the water for all the bodies. The crowd was young, made up of bikinied girls Fran's age and men similar to Bob and Joe. She knew that most of them were airline stewardesses and pilots from San Francisco International Airport, fairly close by, who were based in this area.
She did not locate either Bob or his friend in the throng, and she turned to go, thinking that perhaps she had been wrong and Bob had not come here after all. She passed the foyer leading to the bathroom and bedrooms, and inadvertently she peered into the large mirror hanging there.
It was placed at such an angle so as to give the reflection of the bathroom. Randi stopped, her eye caught by the motion she could see in the mirror, and then, horrified, she realized what she was watching. Joe Levitt was standing up in the uncurtained bathtub, his lean, muscular body blanketed with soap suds. She heard the slosh of water as he leaned over, and saw his flanks and cheeks clearly as he took a rubber hose and attached one end of it to the faucet. The other end had a wide head which sprayed water as he rotated the knobs, and he proceeded to rinse himself.
Levitt obviously was unaware of her presence. Randi, mouth open, stared at him as he washed, and for a second time her mind told her to run. Yet this youthful body, so much like Bob's, fascinated her, and she stood rooted to the spot, feet unable to move.
Joe Levitt passed the spray head over himself. The suds disappeared, leaving him in full clean nakedness to Randi's view. At first his back was to her, satinly bronzed skin rippling with vigor. Around his buttocks was the white band of his bathing trunks, accentuating his thighs. Randi's mouth went dry and again she tingled with rippling sensuality as he slowly moved the spray around. He made little circles around the small of his back, just above the darkened crevice of his buttocks and Randi stifled a groan, the small of her own back becoming almost alive with emulation.
Levitt spread his legs slightly and bent down. He had fine, strong legs, black and hairy, and his cheeks curved into them perfectly. He bent one leg a little more, and Randi stopped breathing, mesmerized, staring at the shadowed crotch. As he made one final pass with the spray, she saw the begging silhouette of his balls hanging like gourds from between his legs. The thought of his cock and what it would look like filled Randi's mind, and she found herself desperately wanting him to turn around, show what manhood he possessed.
Levitt turned off the water and climbed out of the tub. In doing so he grabbed a velour towel from the rack, and the motion covered his middle. Again Randi's imagination went rampant. Levitt rubbed his head and shoulders lazily, the bottom of the towel against his upper thighs like a skirt hiking up a woman's legs, and Randi glued her eyes to the reflection, straining for the first glimpse of his masculinity. Then, he went lower, rubbing his chest and stomach, turning, rubbing his flanks on one side, then the other.
Then Randi's excited torment was over. Feet splayed, towel curved underneath and around, Levitt revealed his balls and prick and began to dry them. Sensuously he massaged the pubic area, slowly manipulating his pale member, moving it up and around with the soft towel. He lolled it side to side, its limpness making it roll exposing the flaccid shaft to Randi's hot eyes. Even soft it was huge, she thought in a detached way, bigger than Gary's ... was it bigger than Bob's? Levitt moved the towel down and stroked his distended testicles, the two thick lumps inside-looking like boulders encased in a wrinkled paper bag. Then he rubbed himself between the legs and up around his anus, and the beginnings of an erection began to show. Levitt stopped, putting the towel on the rack but keeping one hand on his cock, moving its foreskin lewdly back and forth casually.
Randi stayed transfixed as the limp cock began to soak blood, to turn from the pale thing at rest to an angry instrument, engorging and rising as Levitt fingered it. It grew to enormous size, Randi shuddering at the idea of it penetrating a woman-herself, perhaps-and its evil head gleamed at her with its open eye.
Levitt let go of himself, and with a sigh began to walk out of the bathroom. Move, Randi screamed at herself, run and get away from here. He'll see you in a second, realize you were watching him-but she couldn't. He stepped out of the bathroom, humming a tune, and then in shock, stopped as he saw Randi.
"Wha-" Joe Levitt swallowed hard, then stammered, "Mrs. Malone! What are you doing here?"
"I'm-I'm sorry, Joe, Joe," she blurted. "I came to see if Bob was here."
Joe tried to turn away, his face blushing crimson. Then he saw himself in the mirror. "You saw me in there ... "
"Yes, I did."
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Malone," he said weakly.
He wasn't, Randi could tell. He couldn't be, for as he apologized, Randi still had full view of his penis, and what had been an erection in the bathroom enlarged still further. It stood out at a forty-five degree angle, rock-hard shaft a deep pink right up to the collar of skin under the head. The head itself was purple, larger in diameter than the long base, like a knuckleless fist above an upraised arm.
"It's all right, Joe. Remember, I have a son your age." Randi completely overpowered by the strange fascination of Joe's penis, reached out and touched his back with her fingertips. He gasped. "It's ... nothing to be ashamed of," she continued. "Be proud of ... of yourself."
She was as surprised at hearing herself say those words as Joe was. He turned, face a mask of confusion. Randi tried to get her voice back, but the only thing which came to her was the fact that she was now staring wantonly at his cock, with nothing between them except her thin, too-thin slacks.
Levitt smiled slightly, then, catching the agonizing heat Randi felt coursing through her. He looked into her eyes and saw where they were focused, and brazenly he said, "Well?"
"Joe-"
"You've done this, you know."
"No ... " Randi stepped back a pace, her hand to her mouth as the realization of the situation, of what he was intimating, flooded her mind. "You don't understand, Joe. I-I came here to see my son."
"He called to say he couldn't make it, that he'd gotten tied up in San Francisco." Levitt moved in closer, his long shaft almost touching the crotch of Randi's slacks.
"I'm all upset, Joe," Randi stammered. "Please ... please don't make things worse."
Levitt stopped, frowning.
Randi, hoping with dulled senses that she had halted his advances, continued. "I-I saw my husband and Fran together this afternoon, just now. I ... I have ... to tell Bob."
"Fran? Isn't that Bob's girl?"
"Yes, yes. It was awful."
"What was awful? How were they together?"
"Oh Lord, they were naked ... she had him in the pool, playing with him ... laughing and teasing him ... making him hard like ... like you were doing ... " Randi moaned, the remembrance causing more unwanted excitement to well up inside her.
Levitt's cock jumped, and he began to breathe harder. "Go on, Mrs. Malone," he said urgently. "What happened next?"
"I ... I couldn't believe it. They were like mad people. He chased her, caught her and threw her down. She spread her legs and begged him to ... to ..."
"Fuck her?"
"Don't use that filthy word!" she begged, almost screaming. She leaned against the wall, weakness making her legs tremble. "No, it was worse. He kissed her ... there ... between the legs ... " She groaned miserably.
Levitt drew in a panting breath. "What are you planning to do about it?"
"Tell Bob. Tell him ... what kind of girl he's engaged to."
Joe's cock throbbed as he studied her. "That's right ... you could. Then you'd get a divorce, for you sure couldn't keep what you know from breaking you up with your husband. And then the scandal. That would be a real ugly one, and the newspapers would eat it up."
"But ..."
"We can't let them get away with it, though. There has been some reprisal."
Randi searched his eyes for his meaning and was frightened by the lecherous gleam in them. "What-what do you mean?"
"Simple," he said slowly. "An eye for an eye ... a woman for a woman."
Randi felt the insides of her belly turn, and a shiver crept up her spine, sending a wet clamminess through her. She choked. "Are you ... no, you can't mean ...!"
"You liked what you saw. I can't repulse you." He smiled at her. "You obviously know what I mean."
"It's not a matter of that," she stammered, her head whirling. "Two wrongs don't make a right ... I'm not like Fran, some slut you can ... "
Her words were choked off as Joe placed his hand on her hip, and as she watched his fingers stroke her thigh through the fabric, Randi's body jumped and her breath clung to her throat. She squirmed backwards, but he moved closer, his huge cock pressing against her leg and his hands massaging her flat, tense abdomen. His face was inches from her own, his breath hot against her mouth. She couldn't deny the fascination he held her in, the almost hypnotized warmth his hands produced, the thrill of his penis poking near her widening vagina. Neither could she ignore the fact that she was married, nor of her moralistic background, but then she was overwhelmed by the thought of who she was married to, Gary, that beast who thought only of himself, his own satisfaction, and never hers. It would be what he deserved if his wife screwed around, too. Yes, Joe was right, she thought mesmerically, retribution was called for, and what better way than to give Gary back some of his own medicine. But, did it have to be with her own son's best friend! And then, then Randi dropped her mouth open in utter disbelief, as she heard herself saying without any conscious volition, whatsoever. "Oh yes, Joe, I know what you mean!" Without thinking, without a will of her own, Bob's mother unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged her shoulders. The frilly garment slid down and fluttered to the carpet.
Levitt gasped. "God, but you're beautiful!"
She took his hands and placed them against her hardening mounds, making sure his thumb tips were pressed against her nipples. She looked down at the foreign hands kneading her breasts and the rising tide of passion ripped through the last vestige of defense. She unzipped her pants and slid them part way off her hips. "Take them off, Joe. Hurry!"
He squatted before her, lips brushing her naval, his hands tracing down her tingling side. He pushed her pants down to her knees, taking a moment out to slowly caress her pubic area, hand flat against the soft patch of silk-like hair, then he moved the pants lower and off her legs, removing her sandals as well in one, easy maneuver. Automatically, she spread her legs, opening her inner thighs to his probing touch. The hot afternoon air wafted across her vagina, sending a ripple of anticipation through her as Joe stood up, parting the sensitive lips of her cunt, tenderly slipping a finger into its wetness.
Tremors surged through Randi. She was alive with sensation. Oh, never, never, had she known such depraved, wanton craving! Cringing from her own desires, she moaned, "Oh, Joe ... don't ... don't tease me! Please ...!"
"God, but you're a luscious woman!" Joe murmured, and his mouth encased one ruby tip of nipple. He began to suck like a child after milk, and Randi thought her whole body was afire. She squirmed and her arms snaked around his neck, and she began to wrench her hips against his probing finger. A momentary sense of shame at what she was doing swept over her even as the prurient quivers agitated her body, while slowly and insinuatingly he probed deeper and deeper inside her moist, throbbing vaginal cavern.
Randi moaned aloud and struggled against his burning lips and fingers. "Ohhhh ... ohhhh ... ohhhh," she whimpered helplessly, as he continued. Ohhhh ... yes ... yesssss!"
"Other room! Let's ... fuck on the bed!"
Again the lewd sound caused Randi to react inwardly, but this time she sensed a strange excitement as he spoke the vile word and she hissed between her teeth, "Yeeeeesssss!"
Levitt picked Bob's mother up, his arms tight about her naked waist, and carried her into the bedroom. "We'll teach that husband of yours to fuck around with other girls," he said huskily.
He dropped her on the covers and she bounced, legs spread wide before his lascivious eyes. He knelt down between her ankles and stared at her soft black pubic hair and the wide, throbbing lips of her open cunt. They seemed to call out to him, to beg him to touch them, to kiss them, to tear them apart if he so chose. The hardness of his aroused penis rubbed and made his loins ache, and his huge hands dug into her thighs so fiercely that she whined from the pain.
And then he slithered forward, down upon the aching slit between her thighs, down to where his head was just above her cunt and the shocking realization of what he was about to do made Randi recoil in sudden repugnance.
"No ... no! You can't do that! It's awful! Oh, God!" Randi moaned and twisted, but Levitt's heavy grip held her fast. "Please, my husband never has ... never done that to me ... please ...!"
"Your husband did ... it to Fran ... it's only fair you should have it too," Levitt answered huskily, his eyes feasting hungrily on the thin lips, edged so delicately with soft, black hair. A droplet of her seeping vaginal juice moistened its fringe, then two, and then more in the fashion of a flower petal after a rain shower, and her clitoris peeked up at Levitt like the morning bud. Randi watched petrified as he placed his thumbs on her opening with slow, deliberate motion and drew the soft curls of her pubic hair apart, exposing the coral-colored flesh to his lust inflamed gaze. She moaned in shame as he breathed against her, the hot air grazing her sensitive nerves and then she caught her breath as she saw his face drop and his tongue wetly probe her guilt-quivering vagina.
Her body responded automatically, convulsively jerking, a groan escaping from her throat as she ground her hips to the bed in an effort to get away from his long, hot worming tongue. "Ohhhh ... my God ... my ... my ... God!" The bestial outrage continued upon her defenseless cunt and her stomach churned in repulsion and she wailed in animal-like passion as his tongue licked her inner thighs, curled around her clitoris and snaked rapier-like in and out of her cringing pussy. "Ohhhh ... dear God ... stop ... stop ... "
Levitt shook his head negatively and raced his tongue faster up the dilated hole between her open legs. She raised her head up and watched his assault in horror, her mind aflame with the realization that ... it was happening to her! No, it couldn't be true! The unwanted jolts of pleasure vilely pervaded her whole being, proving to her that it was true, all too true, that she was being sucked and eaten with all the intensity her husband had given to Fran.
Levitt's hands slipped under her buttocks and squeezed and cupped the firm flesh of her cheeks brutally, his tongue and mouth continuing to grind deeper and deeper into her squirming cunt. Involuntarily she raised her loins, making Levitt's head bury itself deeper and the debased sucking sounds of his labors filled the small room. His hands split the crevice between her cheeks, running an exploratory finger over her crinkled rectum, and Randi clenched her hands into fists, her vibrant, naked flesh overcome by the young boy's merciless abuse.
Vaguely she thought of Gary and the many times that he had tried to make love to her this way, how she had coldly refused. She had never known of the pleasures in store for her ... dear God, nor of the abandoned nature of her own body.
Levitt heard her sharp gasp of pleasure as his hands roamed the soft yielding crevice of her buttocks and surging with new-found lust, he drew her legs up and around his neck, clasping her ankles together like some human necklace. He continued to orally fuck her, running his tongue around her clitoris in lewd sensuous circles and flailing his head back and forth as he darted his tongue deep into her pulsating pussy, feeling her lips push against his mouth with increasing intensity. Randi's buttocks spasmed beneath his touch, and he touched her anus again; she cried out deliriously and he probed the opening with a finger tip. And then, suddenly, he moved downward and closed in on the brown budded hole. She wanted to scream but instead she moaned in rapture as his tongue flicked against her puckered anus, and she closed her eyes as the sensual pleasure surged like wild fire through her.
"Don't ... do that ... Joe ... no!" she said automatically, all the while pushing her thighs closer to his mouth, endeavoring to rape her tortured rectum with his tongue. "Oh God ... " she cried, leaning back, feeling the flesh of her breasts and stomach goose bump. She tossed from side to side, her total degradation overwhelming her, but the horrifying realization that she had lost control of herself flooded her mind, arousing a sob of shame and humiliation. Levitt licked on and on, moving from vagina to rectal hole and back again with complete freedom, and Randi's body began to boil with the raw nerve ends of pleasure. Suddenly she completely gave in to his lewd ministrations. She stopped fighting the intense delight he was bringing to her, and her soft body cried for fulfillment, fulfillment she had too long been denied, denied herself. She raised her desire-drenched loins to him, her only desire the submission to his slightest whim. She groaned her throbbing, widespread cunt against his face, reveling to the bottom of her soul with the insane throes of lustful enchantment.
Her body began the slow agony of a building orgasm. Never had she been so close to a release, not in all her life. Before she had merely submitted, feeling the sensation but not to the point of explosion. She had heard and read that females have orgasms, but thought she was one of them that did not or could not. Now ... now with Levitt's wet mouth clamped to her vagina, she was experiencing for the first time in her life the real flame of desire. She writhed and twisted with faint mewls of passion rising from her chest, her face wrung with lust and deep, animalistic abandon.
This was it! This was it! "Ohhh ... ohhh ... ohhhhhhhhh!" She chanted and Levitt screwed her harder with his tongue. She was vaguely aware of his hands groping and reaching and teasing her breasts and rectum and clit like searing fingers of flame, and she panted and wailed with ever-ragged breath. His huge unrelenting tongue burrowed ever deeper, making her tingle from head to toe. It was like a dream ... a wild, heavenly nightmare! Oh, it was wonderful! It was fabulous ... wild ... beautiful!
She screamed: "I'm going to cum! Yes! Yes! Yes! Don't stop! Don't stop, for God's sake, don't stop! Oh, I'm cummmmmiiinnngggg! Aaaagggg!" And then she jerked and heaved against her son's young friend, pumping abandonly as the hot spasms of orgasm tore through her, lifting her to another world ...
At last she settled back against the sheets, her heart pounding rapidly, her body temporarily satiated. Slowly Levitt pulled his head clear of her cunt. "Man, can you move that ass!" he said softly. "You really turn on!"
She looked at him, the torment between the guilt and the aftermath of passion making her eyes wet with tears. She saw him kneeling over her, his face twisted lewdly, and her eyes trailed down his broad chest and stomach to the erect penis, which stood out like a huge totem pole from his abdomen. His hand began to stroke it, pulling back the foreskin, and Randi continued to gape at it in complete misery, her own naked body beneath filling her with shame as once again the realization of what she was doing filled her mind. But even as she stared, faint traces of desire began to build up in her again and a new sense of wantonness came alive. His monstrous rod seemed to wink at her with its one eye, and Randi was nearly terrorized with its size. Dear God ... it would split her apart ... she'd never be able to take it all ...!"
"I'm going to fuck you," Levitt breathed. "When you get this baby all the way in you, you're going to really know what fucking is all about. You're not going to be able to walk for a week afterwards."
"No ... no ... please ... I can't."
"Take it," he ordered, "go on and put it in."
"Oh God ... " she groaned once more as her hand tightened around his thick shaft. Fear welled as she perceived the true enormity of his giant throbbing cock.
"Go on ... " he snapped, lowering his hips to her wide spread thighs. "Put it in ... now!"
He dropped across her, the hardness of his cock surging against her belly like some blunt instrument of torture. Randi couldn't move, paralyzed from his weight and from the movement of his body against hers.
She gasped and guided the hard, fleshy shaft to the passion drenched hole of her cunt, using his thick bulbous head to part her lips and the electrifying contact sent shivers of further pleasure coursing through her. She dared not move as he pushed against her, the stretching pressure as he violated her causing sharp pain.
"Oooohhh," he gasped.
He pushed again, the ponderous head forcing its way into her wet, palpitating opening. "Ohhhh. I-I can't stand it ... Please! Please, no more!"
Levitt continued the impalement, his masculinity slowly thrusting inch by inch into her cringing passage. He filled her to bursting as he settled upon her, and she felt as if every wrinkle, every corrugation of the massive flesh was discernible through the stretched walls of her vagina. He lay still for a moment, then flexed his cock and lurched deeper into her belly.
"Aaaaagggggggg!" Randi groaned helplessly, but then as her passage began to grow accustomed to the barbaric penis, the whimpers of pain changed to moans of pleasure. Levitt began to rotate his hips, grinding his manhood against her vagina until the head beat relentlessly against her cervix. He rocked above her, stroking in long, easy rhythm. She was too God damn good to be true! She was driving him out of his mind! Bob, his own best friend's mother, driving him out of his mind with her fucking cunt!
Randi moved her hips against his in simultaneous harmony, and her mouth opened and closed with passion. Beads of perspiration formed on her upper lip, and her neck strained with pantings of pleasure. There was nothing left except Levitt's giant cock deep within her, pulsating with abandon ... no morals ... no pride ... no reality. Her body reacted with lewd sensation, and obscenely she begged Levitt to continue.
"Do it! Do it! Do it!" she quivered in a new abandon.
"Do what?" he panted, stopping momentarily.
Randi let the foul words she knew he wanted to hear burst from her lips. "Oohhh, baby, fuck me ... fuck me ... fuck me ...!" The thought of her change excited her further and she groaned and caught her breath as Levitt pulled her buttocks tighter to his own surging loins. Randi heaved with passion, the pain of a few seconds ago lost to the intense bliss which was almost unbearable. Her legs quivered on either side of his thick, impaling cock and she shot her tongue deep into his mouth, slithering it in and out in a wild semblance of oral fucking while gurgling noises of velvet rapture came from her passion-filled throat.
Gary had never been like this. Never ... never had there been anything like this, and not even in her most abandoned dreams did she imagine such ecstatic sensations could be gotten from lying under a man ... from the mouthing of her cunt to the moment when his huge prick violated her womb and filled her with insane pleasure. Randi willed and wanted more, much more ... wanted it never to end. Adulterer ... whore ... bitch ... slave ... no, she was a woman! A full-blooded, healthy woman at last!
She writhed her cunt up to him as Levitt jammed her with ever-increasing force, lengthening his stroke, drawing his shaft almost out of the fleshy, sopping sheath, then plunging downward in quickening strokes as her cunt lips clasped it hungrily. Christ, she was exploding underneath him, and he heard her grunt and hurtle her wildly sucking vagina up and down on his throbbing horn madly.
"Ohhhhh ... hhhhhh!" Randi moaned as his cock pounded her vagina mercilessly. She struggled with her breathing, the vibrant battering she was taking making her gasp and cough.
Levitt's sperm inflated balls slapped hard against her anus, its hairless exposed pucker moist from the warm viscid fluid which had seeped down the crevice from her cunt. His throbbing sac seemed to split apart from the pressure mounting within it, and Levitt's head swam with the increasing need to squirt his boiling sperm into her. His loins ached with impending release and he rammed her with insane fury.
Randi cried out again, but from sheer pleasure, and she screwed her tongue into his throat as he buried his shaft deeply, and she raised her legs even higher to receive his thundering prick. Levitt gaped downward at his manhood ... Dear God, if he didn't cum soon, he'd go mad! ... and his prick slipped smoothly in and out of her delicious cunt, the lips of her clasping pussy clinging like a hungry mouth as though it was insatiable and had to have all of his rampaging rod. He slipped his hand beneath her buttocks and fumbled at the tight brown hole of her anus.
"Oooohhh ... yes ... yes ... use your finger, Joe!" Randi jerked her ass against his finger, and almost brutally forced the spongy orifice to pop open and accept the digit. Randi's first reaction was one of great pain, but then as her rectal passage became used to the unnatural invasion, she felt pleasure-pleasure-pain-and suddenly she tried to skewer the rotating finger to the hilt, shoving back against it at the same time she strained to absorb more of his warm wonderful hard cock deep in her screaming belly. Levitt wormed her anus, feeling his shaft through the thin wall separating her vagina from her rectum, and Randi screamed beneath him. She writhed abandonly, grinding up and down on both impaling instruments, her toes flexing, her inflated breasts heaving, her legs lurching from side to side. "Oh ... ohhhhh ... oooohhhhh ...!" Randi chanted, her lovely face contorted in the buildup of her second orgasm.
Levitt grunted and hammered ever further, and he felt the walls of her vagina seep the warm, sticky fluid of her beginning climax. She rose up from the bed and pressed against his pubic hair, rotating with renewed fire.
"God almight ... It's happening ... yes ... it's happening again ... I'm going to cum ... to cum ... I'm cummmmmmmiiiiinnnnnngggggg!"
Randi convulsed beneath Levitt, her mouth and cunt sucking feverishly, her short hot breath breaking in gasping sobs, her pussy gushing and seething around his plundering length. Even her ass hole expanded and clenched in spasmodic exaltation, pulling against his finger all the way to the second knuckle. Levitt was spurred on by Randi's continued climax, and he dug deeper into her flooding slit, forcing her tortured crotch still wider. He fucked her like a piledriver machine gone wild. Then he felt the sudden, surging waves of his boiling white sperm bubble from his scrotum, and suddenly he was lost in incredible sensuality as powerful surges of his juice pummelled down his tube and sprayed the inside of her pussy, filling her to the bursting point. The hot walls of her vagina milked his penis as if they were starving, clasping and unclasping desperately for each further squirt.
Randi's firm young body suddenly collapsed and she fell back to the mattress, her belly still quivering from the unleashed tide of her passion. Never had such joy existed-her body had been fulfilled completely-and the shame and guilt was second place to the satiation she lazily let drift over her.
Then the consciousness of her act burst through her and she thought of where she was and who was lying above her, whose thick but receding cock still soaked in her vagina. She moaned involuntarily. So ... the desecration had now been nullified. She and Gary were even at last.
"What's the matter?" Levitt asked. "Didn't you like it?"
"Yes, yes of course, I did, Joe." How could she deny it after her lewd performance.
"Next time will be better, I promise."
"No ... no, there won't be another time."
"What ... why not?" Levitt frowned down at her. "Are you angry?"
"No," Randi said. "I'm very satisfied, as a matter of fact. You were very good, and I'll remember it as long as I live ... but it's finished. Please ... let me up."
"All right, then ... " Levitt slowly rolled off her, his limp penis coming from her pussy with a short sucking sound, and Randi felt the hot stickiness beneath her and the soaking pubic hair and felt sick and dirty. Now, with the heat of her body no longer betraying her, Randi was torn with despair. She looked down her ravaged form, thinking that she could no longer play at being better than her husband, she was as bestial as he. No ... no ... maybe later she would wake up and find it was a horrible nightmare ... But she knew, deep inside, that that wouldn't happen. Mentally she was crushed, physically she was bruised and sore, her genitals throbbing with a dull continuous ache.
Levitt grinned as he slipped into a clean pair of shorts. "You're the finest woman I've ever known, Mrs. Malone."
"Th-thank you, Joe." Slowly, painfully, Randi rose from the sheets and went to her crumpled clothes. She slipped on her slacks first, not wanting Levitt's lewd gaze to feast any longer on her matted femininity then buttoned the frilly blouse around her. She retired to the bathroom and combed her hair. She looked into the mirror, startled by the heavy, sex-filled lines which marred her pretty face. Her disgrace, she was certain, showed like the afternoon sun itself. Oh God, why had she succumbed to such debasing humiliation? Still, she could not hate Levitt, it had been her doing from the first, watching him as she had, and she had to take full responsibility for it. Her eyes puddled, running the little remainder of mascara she wore. She stopped and wiped her eyes with a towel, then smoothed her blouse carefully, moaning as her fingers touched the tender breasts. Good God! Supposing she were pregnant! The thought hadn't occurred to her before, but suddenly she realized such a thing wasn't impossible. How horrible if she were! But there was nothing she could do but wait and pray ...
Levitt was dressed in a pair of Levi's and a tee-shirt when she finished in the bathroom. "You ... you won't say anything to ... anyone, will you?" she asked him.
"Are you kidding? Of course not." Levitt sat down and crossed his legs, opening his crotch area casually to her view. "We got back at your husband, didn't we, Mrs. Malone?"
She nodded mutely, and then said, "There's still Fran. Bob must learn ... "
"Don't worry about Bob. He'll find out soon enough what kind of girl she is. Just ... don't worry."
"I-I'd better be going," Randi said, licking her lips nervously.
Levitt shrugged, standing. "Okay," he said. And then, at the door, "Goodbye, Mrs. Malone. It was really terrific."
Randi could only nod uncontrollably and then turn and hurry toward the elevator.
Chapter 4
The Austin Healey was parked in the driveway when Randi arrived home a half hour later, and Bob stood talking to Gary as he complacently trimmed the now-freshly-cut front lawn with a power edger. Randi brought the station wagon into the driveway, thinking: Oh God, I can't face Bob now, not after what just happened, and I can't face Gary either, oh God, oh God ...
A guilt-oriented panic seized Randi as she applied the brakes to bring the wagon to a stop beside the Austin Healey, and she fought back a renewed flood of tears that threatened to pour from her eyes. She threw open the door and ran through the garage and onto the flagstone path past the swimming pool, dimly hearing Bob call out to her from the lawn area, dimly aware that Fran was nowhere to be seen.
She reached the sliding glass door to the covered side porch and pulled it open. As she did, Bob's voice drifted to her through the hot, muggy afternoon air, "Mom! Hey, Mom, wait-"
Randi rushed hurriedly through the house, letting the tears flow freely now, coursing hot and wet down her cheeks. She went into Gary's and her bedroom and through to their private bath, locking the door behind her and then leaning back against it to whimper silently, uncontrollably. Moments later, there was the sound of footsteps from inside the bedroom and Gary's voice said, "Randi? You in there?"
"Are you all right, Mom?" Bob asked anxiously.
She took several deep, shuddering breaths, trying to bring some semblance of control into her own voice before answering. Finally, she managed, "Y-yes ... yes, I'm all right. I just don't feel very well."
"Do you want the doctor?" Gary asked through the door. There was a note of solicitousness in his voice that seemed out of character for him, as if he had had a certain remorse over what had happened between Fran and him that afternoon. Randi choked back a sob.
"Mom?" Bob's voice came.
"No, I ... I don't want the doctor," Randi said. "Just ... just leave me alone and I'll be fine. Please."
"Well-if you're sure ... ," Bob said uncertainly.
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Okay. But we'll be right outside if you need anything."
She heard their footsteps retreating and then the faint sound of the bedroom door closing behind them. She continued to lean against the locked bathroom door for a long moment, literally torn apart now with her inner torment magnified tenfold, feeling as if millions of tiny, invisible, execrable creatures were walking on her body, dirtying it, defiling it so that she would never be able to make herself clean again.
Quickly, then, almost feverishly, she began to undress, throwing her flare-bottom slacks and her frilly blouse into a heap on the marbleized linoleum floor. She stood naked on the circular throw rug next to the stall shower, looking down at her breasts, at the fresh bruises her son's friend's hands had put there, and then down the smooth curve of her stomach to her raised pubic mound, at the dried and alien sperm matting the soft triangle of hair there, at the still inflamed cunt lips which Levitt had so abandonly manipulated with his hot, hard, probing tongue. She thought of her sexual desires, so long hidden and repressed deep, deep within her, and how the young boy's eager mouth had awakened her into an enveloping passion, brought about the climax that she had never achieved before; she thought about how she had fucked him-yes, that was the word, fucked, it had been evil and disgusting and that was the only word for what she had done-how she had fucked him and let him suck her off, crying out to him; she thought about the hideous scene between Fran and Gary in the swimming pool, how it was burned indelibly on the retinas of her eyes, and how she had used that to rationalize her behavior with Bob's friend. She thought about all of this, standing there and looking down at her naked body, and the filthy unseen organisms seemed to her mind to scurry faster and faster along every conceivable inch of her velvety skin, trailing dung-like putrefaction ...
A low, tormented, barely-audible moan escaped Randi's lips. Frantically, she twisted the Lucite handles on the shower unit built into the tile wall of the stall, bringing forth a thick stream of water. She adjusted the shower head until the spray became needle points the water, cool at first, grew hotter and hotter until clouds of vapor began to billow upward, making the room seem like a hazy, humid sauna. Then Randi stepped into the stall, gasping as the scalding water beat against her skin and turned it a bright crimson hue. But she made no move to leave, to escape the burning cascade; instead she stood fast, her mouth open, her eyes closed, enduring the pain as if it were some divine punishment, some taste of hell, for her transgression only a few short minutes earlier.
For five minutes Randi withstood the torrent, blanking the pain from her mind, soaping her abdomen and her rectum and her loins and her breasts, trying desperately to rid herself of the crawling things. Only when the water heater emptied and the spray became lukewarm and then cool again, did Randi step from the stall, to stand dripping once more on the circular throw rug. Dripping, but not clean-oh, God, would she ever be able to feel clean and wholesome again?
Briskly, almost as if she were heaping further punishment on her body, she dried herself with a large, fluffy jacquard towel. Her skin, tingling from the abuse of water and cloth, glowed a bright, burnished red. Opening the door then, she padded naked into the bedroom and went to her dresser; from one of the drawers she removed a thick, floor length flannel nightgown-one of her girl friend had given it to her as a joke on her last birthday-and covered her body with it. She lay down on the bed, beneath the sheets, and stared up almost unseeingly at the ceiling, feeling almost drowsy now as a kind of warm lethargy began to flow over her, a defensive mechanism thrown out by her brain to counteract the terrible guilt which she bore, to relieve momentarily the hell she was living internally.
After a few minutes, she allowed herself to succumb to the waves of drowsiness and drifted into a fitful, restless sleep.
* * *
Gary came into the living room and sat down in his leather reclining chair. Bob, sitting on the divan opposite, said, "How's Mom?" anxiously.
"She's sleeping now," Gary answered. "Probably only a touch of the flu. Or maybe it was just over excitement at your homecoming."
"I guess that was it," Bob admitted.
"Sure," Gary said. He tried to meet Bob's eyes, and found himself unable to do so. "Well, son, how did the interview go this afternoon?"
"All right," Bob told him. "I won't know if I've got the job for a couple of days yet, but from the way this Mr. Nichols talked it doesn't look bad."
"Good, good," Gary said. He cleared his throat. Jesus, he thought, how can I sit here and talk to my own son when I've spent the afternoon fucking his fianc�e? I must have been crazy to do it. Suppose someone had seen us together, had seen me licking that eager young cunt of hers ... Gary felt an involuntary rush of blood through his loins at the remembrance of the girl's nude, sculpted young body, at the way she had nibbled on his cock and then given him a ride like he'd never had in his life. Hell, it's no use lying to myself. She's some sweet piece, and I'll bang her again if I get the chance, goddamn right. Playing with my ass in the pool the way she was, and then taking off her bikini top so I could play around with those beautiful tits of hers-she wanted it as much as I did, probably more. A nympho, that's what she is, a cock-loving nympho.
Gary looked at Bob again, briefly, and then averted his eyes. One thing sure, though, he thought. I can't let Bob marry her. Shit, she'd be out fucking everything in pants the day after they were married if not on their wedding night. Besides, she couldn't love him, not really; he's probably a regular stud in the rack, a chip off the old block, and there's no doubt that he's punching her every chance he gets-maybe she likes it from him the most. And with twitching pussy of hers blinding him, he thinks he's in love with her.
But how could he tell Bob without coming right out and confessing to this afternoon? Gary wondered. How could he ease the kid down, clue him in on what kind of a hot box he had in this Fran Crocker? Maybe if he got Bob alone, say up at the country club, got a couple of drinks down him to mellow him off, establish a kind of easiness and warmth between them that had never really existed before, he could break the news gently, subtly. Sure, maybe he'd never been as close to the kid as he should have been, but goddamn it, Bob was still his son, his own flesh and blood, and he simply couldn't stand by and watch the boy's life ruined by a chick with a cunt that snapped at buttered toast.
Gary cleared his throat. "Say, son, why don't you and I go up to the club tonight? It's been a while since we've been out together."
Bob looked at him doubtfully. "Well, I don't know ... "
"Sure," Gary said. "Men's night out. It'll be good for both of us. We'll have a couple of drinks, just a couple; I know the bartender and you won't have any problem getting served. Then we can ... well, talk and sort of get re-acquainted. Do you know what I mean?"
The idea of that seemed to appeal to Bob, although he appeared to be a little leery. "I guess we could," he said hesitantly. "But what about Mom? If she's sick and needs anything ... "
"Fran will be here," Gary said. "She ... mentioned this afternoon that she didn't much feel like doing anything tonight anyway."
Bob considered, and then asked, "Where is Fran?" I haven't seen her since I-"
"Right here, dear," Fran's low, sensuous voice said from the hall archway. Bob turned on the divan, a wide, possessive grin sweeping his face. Gary let his eyes flick upward as Fran came into the living room, stretching languidly, her eyes half lidded with sleep. She wore a short, low-cut yellow summer dress, drawn tightly in at her waist and flaring out at the bottom; two thin straps crossed her shoulders, and a single row of small yellow buttons ran from the cleft of her tightly encased breasts to her middle. She was barefoot, and her still-damp hair was covered by a small, triangular bandana.
Yawning, she said, "I was taking a nap. I'd been lying by the pool all afternoon, and I guess all that sun was too much for me."
You're a smooth bitch, Gary thought. The sight of her clothed, in the short revealing dress, brought his prick almost half erect. Yes, he would fuck her again, all right. First goddamn chance he got!
"Dad wants me to go to the club with him tonight," Bob said to Fran as she sat down next to him on the divan. He accepted her kiss, putting his arm possessively about her shoulders, staring into her cool eyes. "But Mom's not feeling well, and we don't want to leave her alone."
"Would you mind sort of keeping an eye on her?" Gary asked. "We'll be back early, by eleven, and if you and Bob want to go out then ... "
Fran's gaze flicked momentarily over the faint bulge in his pants, her eyes mocking him, her lips puffed and sensual from her nap. That cunt of hers is probably pulsing again, ready for another session, Gary thought.
"No, I wouldn't mind at all," Fran said softly. Then, to Bob, "I think it'll be nice for you and your dad to have a night out, dear. Don't worry about me; I was planning to watch television anyway. There's a good movie on tonight." She chewed on the corner of her lower lip, frowning a little. "I hope your mother isn't too sick."
"No," Gary said. "She'll be all right. She's sleeping now."
"Oh, good," Fran said with overemphasized relief. "What time were you and your dad planning to leave, Bob?"
"Dad?"
"Seven-thirty or so," Gary answered.
Fran's eyes lifted to the sunburst clock on one wall. "It's after six now. I'll just have time to make you both something to eat."
"You don't have to do that, hon," Bob protested.
"But I want to. After all, I'm going to become a housewife before long, and I have to get all the practice in that I can."
"Okay then, go to it."
I hope you cook as well as you fuck, Gary thought, nodding. Fran seemed, oddly, to read his thoughts and her smile to him as she rose from the divan, stepping in front of Bob to conceal his view, was full of promise of times as good, and even better, than that afternoon.
Gary's cock was rock hard as he watched Fran walk, hips swaying provocatively, toward the kitchen.
* * *
It was dark when Randi awoke.
At first, she felt a strange sense of detachment and the shadowed, moonlit room seemed unfamiliar. She experienced a moment of utter panic, sitting up convulsively in the hot bed, looking about her wildly. But then, slowly, her mind began to clear somewhat of its sleep fog and she realized where she was.
She drew back the covers, letting her legs slide down to touch the floor, feeling the soft shag of the carpet beneath her bare feet. Hot, she thought groggily, so hot in here, sweating ... She stood up, her hands touching the soft flannel material of the nightgown, wondering why she had put such a garment on in the first place, and then remembering vaguely; but her brain refused to allow the full impact of her shame to explode back into immediate recollection. Instead, the reprehensibility remained vague, finally retreating once more into her subconscious.
Hot, she thought again and she lifted the heavy gown over her head, letting it drop to the floor beside the bed. She stood nude, swaying slightly with the return of flooding lethargy, for a long moment; then she lay back on the bed, not covering herself with the sweat-damp sheets, her eyes closing. She began to drift again, drift ...
Dimly, the drifting sensation passed as she heard the faint sound of the bedroom door being opened. She was cogent again, in a dream-like way; she tried to open her eyes, to see who had entered, but her lids seemed weighted, impossibly heavy, and she couldn't lift them past a mere slit. A shadowed figure approached across the darkened room, moving silently, and as if from a great distance a voice floated to her ears, "Mrs. Malone? How are you feeling now? Can I get you anything?"
"No ..." Randi heard herself say in a whisper. "No ... who ...?"
"It's Fran, Mrs. Malone."
"Fran," Randi echoed blankly.
"Yes, Fran," the voice said again.
Go away, please go away, Randi thought, but she was unable to put voice to the words. Let me alone, please please ...
There was a gentle lowering of the mattress as a certain weight sat beside her. "You really are beautiful, Mrs. Malone ... Randi," Fran's voice said softly, almost soporifically. "Your body ... I never realized before just what a lovely body you have."
Want to sleep, Randi thought. Please, want to sleep.
But then one of her hands was lifted from the covers, was being stroked tenderly between two soft, soft palms. "Poor Randi," Fran said from far, far away. "Poor Randi, so cold, so unable to give, poor poor Randi ... "
The torpor within Randi began to increase now, and Fran's words were meaningless; there was only the sound of that soft, hypnotic voice and the soothing feel of gentle fingers massaging her hand.
"I'll rub your head, Randi," Fran said. "Do you want me to rub your head? I know how to massage it to make you feel so wonderful."
" ... Yes ... yes," Randi breathed in a drugged tone.
She felt Fran's easy fingers massaging her forehead and her temples. Contentment flowed through her, and she felt the drifting begin again, listening to the hypnotic sound of the voice above her.
"I know what you need, Randi. You need what no man can give you, what only a woman can give you, understanding and a different kind of love, not the lashing love of a man, but a gentle love, without pain, isn't that what you need?"
"Yes ... "
"You're so beautiful ... so beautiful, Randi. You've such beautiful soft white skin, and your body is perfect, perfect, do you want me to rub your body for you, Randi? Do you want me to massage it like I'm massaging your head now?"
"Yess ... oh, yes ..." Randi said thickly, still not comprehending the words she was hearing, comprehending only that hypnotic wonderfully soothing voice.
And then Fran moved her hands across Randi's face and down past the slim column of her throat, across her shoulders, down her arms, along her sides, moved them slowly around Randi's breasts, carefully avoiding the nipples. Her eyes were hotly staring as she drank in the beauty of those perfectly rounded globes, with their budding nipples beginning to grow automatically erect. Men were lovely, Fran thought, with their great monstrous cocks and hot hairy bodies, but it was so nice to have a woman once in awhile, just once in awhile, to feel creamy smooth skin and touch the magic wetness between velvety thighs; oh yes it was so lovely to have a woman once in awhile, a willing woman to fuck, and she had thought Randi would be willing, had sensed it instinctively, Randi was that type of frigid female who was unable to enjoy the hard battering of a penis, the rough masculine contact, was barren under a man's touch; but a woman, a woman who knew what she was doing, a woman like her, Fran, could awake hidden desires and passions that Randi had never known existed within her.
Fran's hand's circled Randi's breasts now, and she moistened her lips, closing her legs, opening them, closing them, opening them as her cunt began to secrete the first anticipatory juices of her lust. She saw the nipples rise under her ministrations, growing firm and hard, and she brushed her fingers across first one nipple, then the other, then moved her hands up to Bob's mother's shoulders again as she stirred beneath her. She began to talk again, telling Randi how beautiful she was, what a lovely body she had, stroking her the entire time, stroking her shoulders and arms and sides and breasts, stroking the rigid nipples, and then she left her hands slide down across the smooth flat belly, to touch the first downy pubic hairs, moving her hands around and down Randi's flanks, bringing them back again.
Randi moaned slightly, her hips beginning to gyrate on the bed. Lovely, she thought, so lovely, so nice, and one of Fran's long slender fingers parted the soft moist crevice between her legs, parted it oh so gently, spread it apart, and one sharp fingernail touched the bud of Randi's clitoris to bring it immediately erect, stroking it carefully. Randi's hips began to undulate more freely on the sweat-soaked bed, and her dazed mind said, ... nice, so nice, but who ... who was doing it ...?
"Give me your hand, dear," Fran's softly gentle voice said. She was breathing more quickly now, her fingertip moving more rapidly against Randi's clitoris. "Give me your hand."
Obediently, Randi lifted one hand. Fran held it for a moment, and then let it rest on her knee as she reached up and undid the yellow buttons on the bodice of her dress deftly, pulling back the cloth to reveal her own naked, diamond-nippled breasts. She took Randi's hand, and leaning forward, place it against one tit, guiding Randi's limp finger across her nipple, feeling her pussy inflame with desire. She bent further forward, touching her lips to Randi's parted mouth, letting her tongue flick across the sleep-dried softness. Dreamily, Randi raised her other arm and wrapped it about Fran's neck, causing a low moan of ecstasy to escape the girl's throat as her tongue began to work insanely inside Randi's mouth and her finger began to slide with an ever-increasing rhythm up and down Randi's moist slit. Fran stretched her body out on the bed beside her, moving against her, feeling her own passion growing hot and eager, using her free hand to slide the dress down her body to expose her own quivering cunt, moving her head away from Randi's mouth and kissing the turgid nipples of her breasts, dipping lower to lick at her belly, lower still to touch the silkiness of Randi's pussy mound ...
And suddenly, Randi snapped into instant alertness. Her brain had finally realized that it was not a man making love to her. Her eyes flew open, grew huge as she saw the girl's ebony head moving at her naked genitals, felt the first hot moistness of Fran's tongue. Oh dear God in heaven! her mind screamed. What filth was this? What depravity had she, in her dazed torpor, allowed? What kind of devil creature was this girl whom her son had brought home in love to meet his family?
Gagging, Randi jackknifed her body upward, throwing Fran off her, sending the girl tumbling to the far side of the bed. She gained her feet, pulling one of the rumpled sheets which had worked itself loose from the mattress tight around her, covering herself from the crouching predatory animal which knelt on all fours now on the bed, teeth bared in a bestial snarl.
"You depraved slut!" Randi screamed in horror. "You vile whore! You ... you lesbian bitch!"
Fran raised up on the bed, her lips relaxing to their normal pout across her white teeth. Slowly, calmly, she began to pull the dress upward to cover her own nakedness. "Don't act so god damned righteous," she said. "You were digging it for a while. What turned you off? It could have been good, you know. We could have-"
"Shut uuuupppp! Shut your disgust ... disgusting mouth!" Randi's voice rose in a shuddering scream. "How dare you! How dare you think ... think that I would ... would ... "
"Oh, come on," Fran said. "It's obvious Gary isn't getting a decent fuck out of you, that you don't like to fuck at all. I heard what happened between the two of you last night."
Randi's ears pounded at the sound of that word-fuck-the word she herself had spoken for the first time in the throes of lustful passion with Bob's young friend that afternoon. It hadn't seemed so terrible then, but the way Fran spoke it now, casually, vulgarly, it became unutterably obscene to her again. "Just because ... because of what you might have heard between ... my husband and me doesn't give you the right to assume that I ... I would allow anything so disgusting as ... as ... "
"Oh, shit," Fran said contemptuously. "For somebody who's over thirty, you're incredibly naive. So I like to screw another woman now and then, just for a little variety; most of the girls I know at school sleep with each other as often as they sleep with their boyfriends. There's no great goddamned stigma attached to being a little bisexual any more, as long as you don't get tied up with some bull dyke and forget about men altogether.
No, no, no no no! Randi's brain wailed-No no, she couldn't be hearing correctly, she couldn't be hearing this girl, this spawn of hell, confessing that the barbaric practice of lesbianism was now a commonplace thing on the college campus, that lust and perversion were running rampant through the youth of today. It was so impossibly evil a thought ...
"I'm going to ... to tell Bob what you tried to do just now!" she cried. Then she began to scream his name. "Bob! Bob! Oh God, Bob!"
"That won't do you any good," Fran told her. "He and your husband went up to the country club a little while ago."
Oh Lord! "Then ... then I'll tell him when he gets home. I'll tell him just what kind of filthy scum he's engaged to!"
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, you cold-cunted old prude!" Fran shot back venomously. "He won't believe you, for one thing. He loves me, he thinks I'm the greatest thing walking, the best fuck in the world, and I'm going to marry him. Nobody ... nobody, do you hear me? ... is going to come between us."
"Why?" Randi screamed, her head tossing involuntarily from side to side, her hands entwined in the bed sheet held protectively over her nakedness, hot tears of loathing beginning to cascade from her eyes. "Why, why, why? Oh why my son, why Bob?"
"For a lot of reasons," Fran said brazenly, defiantly. "Because he's got a beautiful young cock and he's great shakes in bed. Because I enjoy being around him. But mostly because I was born in a slum in East Los Angeles, where my mother took in neighborhood laundry to support my three brothers and me because the son of a bitch who fathered us ran off and left her. I worked for five years in a hash house from the time I was fourteen, letting a dirty old Greek play with my pussy in the back room while I blew him once a night, just to save enough money so I could get into USC for two years. Do you know why? So I could find somebody like Bob, somebody who's going to make something out of himself, somebody who can give me all the things I never had and a lot of good loving besides."
"I knew it!" Randi moaned. "Oh God, I knew it, I knew you couldn't love him, you were just using him for your own ends. A ... a creature like you is incapable of love ... incapable of feeling or emotion ... "
"And just what do you know about love, about emotion?" Fran was standing at the foot of the bed now, hands at her sides, her hips thrust forward obscenely so that her hair-covered pubic mound was prominently displayed in an attitude of defiance. "What do you know of the joys of a good lay, the sheer beauty of fucking another human being, man or woman? You're barren, Mrs. Randi Malone, and because you are you think any form of lovemaking is sick and depraved."
In spite of her intense, loathsome hatred for this girl, Randi found herself smarting inwardly at Fran's words. Because she had been barren, she had thought of certain forms of lovemaking as sick and depraved, and because she hadn't allowed herself to experience the joys of physical love, but then, this afternoon with Joe Levitt, she had become a woman, had reached her first orgasm, had had her pussy kissed by a man for the first time, had found the battering ram hardness of an inflamed penis enjoyable for the very first time in her life. Could it be then, that sexual experience with another woman, too, was as deliriously wonderful as what she had known that afternoon? No, no she couldn't allow herself to think that way ... things were happening too fast, too fast, she had to think of Bob, her son Bob, and what would happen if he married this Fran Crocker, of what she would turn him into. Randi, even with her new-found emancipation, could not bear the thought of her innocent young son's corruption.
"I don't care what you think of me!" she flung at Fran. "I won't let you marry my son, I swear I won't!"
"Just how do you plan to stop me?"
"I ... I'll tell Bob, just like I said I would. I'll tell him you ... you tried to rape me tonight!"
"Do you think he'd believe you? Do you think he'd believe his own little Fran would do such a thing?"
"Of course he would!" Randi cried. "I'm his mother!"
"And I'm the girl he loves," Fran returned. "If it comes down to a choice between us, Mrs. Malone, I don't think you'd stand a chance. Think about it for awhile, just think about it, and see if I'm not right." Fran retrieved her dress from the wadded bedclothes and went to the door. "If you say one word to Bob about what happened here tonight, if you try to fuck me up with him in any way, I'll turn him against you. I'll make him hate you. I can do it, Mrs. Malone, don't think I can't."
And with that, Fran threw open the bedroom door and went out.
Randi stood in agonized silence for a long moment, and then she let the sheet fall and rushed to the door and slammed it and locked it. Oh, God, Oh dear Jesus, what was she going to do? Instinctively, with a woman's acute intuition, she knew that Fran could do just what she had threatened, could turn Bob against his own mother if she tried to interfere in their impending marriage. But she couldn't just sit back and watch her only son destroyed by that slut, that self admitted whore-slut. Could she? Could she?
The tears came in a torrential rush then, and Randi turned and flung herself across the bed. She wept uncontrollably in the moonlit bedroom until there was nothing left and a tortured sleep enveloped her tortured mind.
Chapter 5
Late morning sunlight, streaming against the drawn window shade next to the bed, brought Randi into awareness. She was curled like a fetus, her legs drawn up protectively to her breasts and her arms hugging them tightly. Sleep-drugged, she managed to part her eyelids to look at the dial on the bedside clock radio. She was startled to see that it was nearly ten thirty.
She lay still for a time, listening. The house was silent, strangely so. Gary would be at his real estate office, working, she thought. A small frown puckered her forehead as she wondered where Gary had spent the night; probably on the living room couch, she decided finally, since he wouldn't have been able to open the locked bedroom door when Bob and he arrived home from the club. But where were Bob and-and Fran?
The girl's name was like a cancer in Randi's mind, flooding the entire scene of the previous night into her immediate memory. The softness of leftover sleep vanished as she thought of that bisexual bitch and the flagrant abuses she had perpetrated on Randi's body, of the words she had spoken about Bob and how she would turn him against Randi if so much as an intimation of what had happened was passed on to him. Her stomach churned as she thought of Fran's long slender finger working on her clitoris, of her lewdly naked body mocking her, of her foul mouthings of perversion. Randi shuddered, and then, quickly, she rolled over and rose, blotting the girl from her brain, blotting momentarily the terrible dilemma with which she was faced from conscious consideration.
She crossed to the closet and took the velveteen robe Gary had bought her two Christmases ago from its hanger, slipping it over her nakedness. She buttoned it part way down, holding the bottom portion closed with one hand, and then unlocked the bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway. She called Bob's name, but there was no answer; the sound of her voice echoed emptily through the sun-warmed house.
Randi went into the kitchen and plugged in a fresh pot of coffee. As she turned from the coffee maker on the drain board, her eyes caught a glimpse of a sheet of ruled note paper on the kitchen table. She picked it up, recognizing the neat, familiar handwriting of her son.
Mom, it read. Fran and I have taken the wagon to Half Moon Bay for a picnic and some salt-and-sun. Hope you don't mind. Will be back for dinner. Love, Bob.
It was probably Fran's idea to have the outing, Randi thought bitterly. She wouldn't have wanted Bob around when Randi awoke, just in case her words of the night before hadn't been heeded and Randi had decided to say something to him. Randi crumpled the note savagely and flung it from her. She poured some of the now-boiling coffee into a cup, almost scalding herself in the fervor. She carried it back into the bedroom, setting the cup on the night stand.
Dear God, what a nightmare she was living! First her transgressions with Joe Levitt, then Fran last night ... She opened the velveteen robe and looked at her lovely curvaceous body in the full length door mirror. Strange, she thought. I don't look any different. Nobody would know, would they, just by looking at me? It seems as though adultery and almost-lesbianism and orgasmic mouth-fucking by the lips of a young boy, not to mention masturbation and lascivious thoughts, hardly change one outwardly at all ...
Randi sat on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped in her lap. She stared at her breasts, at their taut, puckish uplift, and thought of how Joe had made them inflate and stand out, had made them come alive. Yes, had made her come alive, she was forced to admit that, come alive and beg for his huge penis to torture her gaping insides. Randi clenched her eyes shut tightly biting her lower lip in an effort to squeeze the erotic hot thoughts from her brain. She had never felt so alone, so helpless in all her life. She was caught in an abominable trap, with nowhere she could go, no one she could turn to. Surely she couldn't go to Gary, for certainly he would brand her the whore she had become and end the marriage in scandal. Bob ... Bob would be repulsed, knowing his mother had wantonly made love to his best friend. And Fran ... there was nothing there save for lust, for that she-devil incarnate was the crux of the whole sickening affair, the catalyst which had set it insanely off.
Randi rolled on the bed, her hands brushing her bruised, violated body. The fingertips felt good to her hot skin, and in spite of herself, Randi touched a tender nipple. The nipple rose, tweaked to life. Oh God, oh God, I mustn't! She sat upright again, her breath ragged and pulsating. Control yourself. Stop these ... these horrible carnal thoughts! She looked down at her naked loins, seeing it outwardly calm but knowing and feeling that it was already a seething area of sexual desire. It seemed to twitch and spasm, yet it was agonizingly sore. She spread her legs and felt the thin cunt lips, tender and raw, and inspected her red, sensitive opening. Groaning, she lay back, the blood rising in her cheeks as vivid memories of Joe's young virile body and lustful performance drifted through her.
She found her hips digging back, quivering of their own volition, and she couldn't help herself; her hands began to rub the warm hair-lined orifice, her palms gently moving back and forth over the moistening lips, feeling the tide of rising passion begin to build again. I must be sick ... I can't let myself get like this ... I must control myself ... I ...
And then the phone rang.
Randi pulled her hand away from her pelvis guiltily. The phone shrilly called again. She got onto her feet, not bothering with the robe, and walked rapidly to the hall desk and the clamoring instrument. "Yes?" she said, putting the receiver to her ear.
"Mrs. Malone?" A nasal voice, the kind which automatically sent creepy shivers along Randi's spine as if some snake had slithered into view and was hissing at her. "Mrs. Malone, this is Dean Garrett, Joe Levitt's roommate."
A tremor of shock ran through her. "Y-yes?"
"Uhh ..." Garrett hesitated, and Randi could almost picture the boy lick pale, dry lips, "I-I think I'll come right to the point."
"Yes, please do." Her body began to chill, to lose the heat she had generated a few minutes before. She wanted the call to end, to be able to dress herself in something big and bulky and secure.
"Well, to be brutally frank, Mrs. Malone, I saw you and Joe together yesterday, and I enjoyed it greatly, I must say."
Randi's jaw dropped and she gasped. She gaped into the receiver, the blood rushing to her face in an uncontrollable blush, and the shock of his words struck her momentarily dumb.
When she didn't answer immediately, Garrett went on, "Yes, I would think having your escapade seen firsthand would upset you, and I'm positive you wouldn't want anybody else to know. We're both adults, Mrs. Malone. I'm sure we can come to some arrangement."
"Blackmail!" she managed to cry. "You ... you're sick! A sick, degenerate blackmailer!"
"You're in no position to call me names, Mrs. Malone." He paused for the effect. "I mean, this is Mrs. Gary Malone, the adulteress, isn't it? You are the married Mrs. Malone, Bob's mother, who fucked my roommate here yesterday, aren't you?" It was a rhetorical, if vulgar, question. He laughed cynically, obscenely, in an almost girlishly giggling way. Yes, of course you are. And I'll expect you at my apartment in an hour, Mrs. Malone."
"Wh-what for?"
"To arrange what silence about my knowledge is worth," Garrett said. "Be here, Mrs. Malone." The line suddenly went dead, and the phone buzzed horribly in Randi's ear.
It took a long minute for her to be fully impacted by the boy's odious words, and the fact that this vile, reprehensible creature had her in a desperate position. She wanted to vomit. What would this Dean Garrett, a boy she could recall never having seen before, expect of her? Money? She had very little of her own. No, that wouldn't be it. Then ... Suddenly, she remembered his leering tone on the telephone, and it dawned on her what he was after, the only thing he could be after.
Her ... her body!
Yes, that was certainly it. Oh God, what would she do? She had to think ... It was no good. To hide, to deny what she had done with Joe Levitt, would be foolish. She was trapped, then, forced to return to the scene of the crime so to speak, to return to that Beaumont apartment. There was no other way, no other way. She had to muster all her courage, face him, try to fight him somehow.
Quickly, Randi dressed in a short beige skirt and thin cotton blouse. Since Bob had taken the wagon, and Gary of course had the Healey, she had no transportation. She called a local taxi company, waited impatiently for fifteen minutes, fidgeting, until the cab arrived, and then instructed the driver to Beaumont.
When they arrived at the apartment building there, the street seemed quiet and there was no one about. The sun, seemingly hotter than the day before, beat down mercilessly. Randi had a momentary sense of panic, almost telling the cabbie to take her back home, but then her desire to protect herself, her family, overcame it. She entered the building, rode up to the third floor in the stuffy elevator and knocked on the closed door to Apartment 314.
The boy who answered her knock reminded her of nothing so much as a weasel; thin, sneering, pimply, pale. The mental image his voice had built in her mind was not half so bad as what Dean Garrett actually looked like standing there before her, and visions of scorpions and rats and cockroaches flicked through her mind. He brushed a thin hand through tangled, oily brown hair. "Come in," he said in an insinuating voice, grinning in a clammy way. "I've been expecting you, Mrs. Malone."
For a moment Randi felt unsteady and the room began to sway as she stepped across the threshold and into the living room. She took a seat on the low danish couch, aware that her shapely legs were provocatively exposed to his gleaming, lustful gaze. As she looked up at his spittle-wet chin, she had no more questions as to his intentions. She tried to rise, to struggle upright and flee before his grub-white hands could grapple with her body.
"No, no, Mrs. Malone. Sit quietly."
"You ... you must be insane. I won't let you near me, you ... you voyeur ... you horrible little beast!"
Garrett snickered evilly. "Won't you? Perhaps your husband and your son would like to learn of your infidelity yesterday afternoon. Perhaps they would like to learn that you are a whorey slut, but I have a feeling you wouldn't want that information to leak out. Right?"
Randi moaned and raised her head, her eyes tear glazed. She must fight him, to do everything in her power to keep from submitting to his lust. "Don't you see ... what you're doing to me?" she sobbed. "I ... love my family ... I want to forget what happened yesterday ... please, please let me go!" She struggled upright, only to be thrust backward, to be clutched around one, pear-shaped breast by the claw-like hand of Dean Garrett. He grabbed her hair, jerking her head to one side.
"Let me up!" Randi screamed. "Take your filthy hands off me, you ... bastard!"
"Shut up, slut!" Garrett pressed his face closer to Randi's, and she could smell his obnoxious breath, feel his hands dig cruelly into the sore gland, gnarling the tender nipple already abraised by his roommate the day before. "We're going to have a party of our own, Mrs. Malone. A nice little party."
Randi stared wild-eyed at the sweaty boy, his greedy vision devouring her luscious form. His scrawny body was stronger than she had anticipated, and she knew she was no match for him physically. "Money ... I'll give you money ... how much ...?" She babbled feverishly while his hand kneaded and stroked the smooth flesh of her breast, pinching her nipple painfully with his thumb and forefinger.
"Money I don't need, Mrs. Malone. My dad is a Doctor, and he sees to a fat allowance for me." Garrett let go of her breast and threw her off the couch by tugging cruelly on her clothing. "No, I want you, Mrs. Malone. Your wild, swinging ass. That's what I want."
"Oh God," Randi moaned and fell back against the floor, her whole body displayed to this evil man-child, her skirt folded back to expose most of her full, milk-white thighs.
Garrett chuckled. "It's going to be just you and me for a while, Mrs. Malone." His fingers dug into her soft flesh again and Randi whimpered in pain. His hand moved down the side of her skirt as he edged over her and then over the fullness of her pelvis, and she clutched at his fingers, trying to bend them away from her inner thighs. "Oh no ... don't ... stop!" Randi groaned, but he ignored her pleas, continuing his explorations until he reached the crease of her hot loins. He began to chew on her ear, licking the velvety lobe, while he rubbed furiously at her moist cunt through the skirt.
"Now ... open your legs!" he whispered into her ear. "Open ... those legs so I can feel your tight, married woman's pussy just like Joe did!"
Randi lay rigid, unable to comprehend the horror she had let envelope her, that had so suddenly begun to overwhelm her. Had she so compromised herself that she could allow this monstrous pig to brunt his venomous craving upon her tender soft flesh?
"AAAAAgggggggg!" she cried as he tortured her with a sharp pinch of her flesh, forcing her legs wider apart.
"More!" Garrett commanded. "Wider!"
She responded until her legs were splayed, the thin elastic panties stretched to the point of ripping. Garrett shifted downward and ran his white fingers over the material, and Randi jerked from the impact of his touch. His hands encircled her buttocks and then grasped the elastic waist band of her panties, ripping them from her. They tore and bit into her flesh, but he did not stop. He was like an animal, tearing and grunting to remove the last barrier to his desires. "Raise your ass!" he hissed. "God damn you, raise your frigging ass!"
Randi complied, tears streaming down her shivering face. The panties slid from her round thighs and down around her ankles, and roughly Garrett removed them with his thumb and forefinger and cast them from him. Then he slid his hands back along her cringing legs and shoved her skirt up around her waist.
"That will do for now," he croaked, his eyes lewdly ablaze by the sight of her pink and white cunt. He wheezed as he licked his salivating lips, the salacious expression on his pimply face stretching his thin, sadistic mouth. "Tell me, Mrs. Malone," he wheezed. "What would your husband and your son say if they knew you spent the past two afternoons fucking first Joe and then me?"
Randi did not-could not-answer. She rolled her head away, so that she wouldn't have to look at his snickering face, whimpering resignedly, knowing in her heart there was no way she could defeat this foul creature ... nothing which she could do except submit to his repugnant advances. She was completely at his mercy.
The fanning motion of Garrett's hands tensed Randi's vagina, and she shuddered as his fingers brushed gently at the sensitive ridges of her pussy, teasingly pressing against the small, soft folds, spreading the lips to expose the rising clitoris, bringing it out to thrusting erection. He stretched her wider, bending his head to inspect the pink gaping hole which nestled so temptingly between her open thighs.
Randi tried to force herself to lie still and accept it. If she had to submit, better that she should try to allow the degradation, not fight out, pray for it to end quickly and mercifully as possible.
"Well, are you willing to cooperate now?" he rasped nasally. His fingers continued their maddening assault, probing her moist, hidden recesses, teasing her clitoris, sliding down between the soft white cheeks of her ass to attack the throbbing bud of her anus. She tried to stifle a low throaty mewl as she began to raise her loins to the beginning sensations she had known the day before from Levitt's hands.
"Yes ... yes ... Mrs. Malone," Garrett hissed. He moved closer, straddling her legs as his hands worked her juicy pubic area unmercifully. "Now ... take out my cock!"
An unwanted shudder of sensuality passed through Randi at his demand, yet still she sought to fight the pin pricks of passion which followed the path this thin, cruel fingers had taken. But the exquisite feeling between her legs shattered her resistance. The ripples of her quivering belly and the hardened nipples of her covered, yet palpitating, breasts destroyed all debasement, all humiliation. The straining muscles of her thighs relaxed and she rose toward Garrett and obediently stroked the hardened mound which protruded along his left flank.
"Unnnnnnnhhhhhhh!" grunted Garrett as her fingers deftly plucked at his belt. He thrust forward, kneeling wider so that the zipper was within her easy grasp. She slid it down, moaning. His white, sticky underpants sprung outward at her, bulging with the silhouette of his rock-like penis.
In spite of her revulsion, Randi dipped her fingers inside the elastic band of his underpants and tugged at them. With his free hand Garrett helped her, until his thin, long prick popped out, the head swollen angrily, its skin stretched so tightly that it seemed to shine. A purple vein ran heavily across the ridge of muscle lengthwise on the underside of his shaft. It pulsed and subsided, pulsed and subsided.
"Ohno ... no ... noooooo!" Randi moaned. She shook her head violently, but her gaze was transfixed by the stiff flesh. She gave a little start as her hands encircled it, the lubricant which seeped from its tip sticky to her touch. She began to stroke it and massage it, fascinated at the rod, and when it jerked in her hand a strange warmth passed through her body, a sudden perverse thrill.
Her very helplessness intensified the uncontrollable flame within her, and it was as if her mind blanked out the obnoxiousness of the young man above her. The last spark of revulsion died and then the strange thought that whores did this all the time for money ... for a price ... gripped her. But wasn't she, too, being paid in a sense?
Garrett's fingers moved inside her, taking momentary command of her body. They began a slow, rhythmic thrust and she found herself squirming against them, endeavoring to swallow them in her hot, vaporous cunt. Her ass floated up of their own volition and she moved her legs up, and then out crab-like, so that her whole passion-obsessed cunt was exposed to the long white fingers fucking into her. Tiny moans of pleasure rippled from her lips in helpless cadence to the lewd pummeling, feverish manipulations within her warm, pulsating depths. Her mind exploded with new, wanton, alien thoughts.
Oh God ... I love it ... I love it-His ... his cock ... oh, why doesn't he take me? I want it in me ... Oh God, I want it in me ... why doesn't he fuck me ... fuck me like the horrible whore I am!
Suddenly Garrett pulled his hand free, and moving slightly higher he pushed his pants down over his knees. His thin frame was fish-belly white, but her eyes saw nothing except his bone-handle penis jutting like a lever from his loins.
"Turn over, Mrs. Malone!" he panted. "Hurry! Back against me and place your knees on either side until your ass is directly above my cock!"
A tremor of fear passed through Randi, but only briefly as her morals no longer hindered her. Her vagina was hopelessly drenched from his sensuous stroking fingers and she knew any protest would be futile, empty, meaningless. She turned over and raised her soft, resilient buttocks to him.
"Take my cock ... and put it in your ... asshole, Mrs. Malone!" Garrett ordered in a gasping wheeze, "It will be painful ... probably very painful at first, but ... nothing good is very ... easy."
Without conscious thought, the dazed Randi reached behind her and grasped the trembling shaft, then guided its swollen tip to the tiny brown ring of her hairless rectum. Garrett's prick leaped at her hand and he jabbed against her as she worked the head back and forth in her cunt juices to ease the point of beginning penetration. She still had not fully comprehended the lewd command he had given her until suddenly she felt him reach down and guide the hard rubbery tip of his cock up from her vaginal lips and into the soft, yielding moons of her upraised buttocks.
Christ! Garrett had never seen such a voluptuous asshole. His sperm-loaded balls tingled as he surged forward, prying open the luscious still tightly clenched moons, wider and wider until the slit parted. Randi squirmed and whined, but she couldn't slip away.
"Oh my God ... Not that. Please!"
"Put your knees out wider, Mrs. Malone!" Garrett snapped. His blunt cock head rode against her tightly constricted anus, and then he thrust his own knees outward and spread her apart until she thought she would split. He slipped his finger deep into the rubbery flesh of her rectum and began to probe, sending mounting, but unwanted, pleasure waves rippling through Randi, as his other hand sensuously massaged her excitedly throbbing clitoris. Abruptly, in spite of her horrified repulsion, she strained her buttocks back on his finger as she suddenly, in her helplessness, began to revel in her corrupt subjugation. Then he jerked his finger quickly out, causing Randi to wince, and her eyes bulged as she felt the blood-maddened prick begin prodding and working against her tightly clenched rectal entrance. She felt the cords of his thighs shove against her and the straining, elastic ring of her anus suddenly gave way to the unrelenting pressure.
"AAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHH!" she screamed, her face contorted from agony and forgotten shame. "Oh my God!" She tried to twist her head back and stop his depraved assault on her defenseless, virginal rectum.
Oh God, it's so big ... But it's in ... it's inside me! ... Just the tip ... like a huge baseball bat tearing my backsides asunder ... Oh dear God ... I don't care ... I don't care ... This is my punishment ... yes, yes ... the punishment I deserve ... I want you, oh mighty cock ... all the way up my asshole!
Garrett grinned insanely down at his slender prick stuck in the end of Mrs. Malone. He moaned as he locked his sight on the hardened rod which disappeared in the wide-stretched oval opening between the white, now quivering mounds. He jerked slightly, Randi screaming in torment-again as another small portion of his penis slid into the tender brown flesh; then, as he lay still, the anus drew out slightly, puckering around his impaling cock. His prick was so hard he thought it would shatter. His balls felt like cement blocks and been tied to them. They throbbed with unbelievable aching. Some men wait a lifetime for suck a fuck! It was hardly possible for him to believe that this woman, Bob's mother was subjugating herself like a bitch in heat to him, Dean Garrett, the original ninety pound weakling, the emaciated eighteen year old wizened nothing whom the girls never would go out with. Yet this beautiful bitch was here kneeling before him with his cock locked inside her asshole like some whore begging for mercy. Jesus, he was going to ram it to her good, like the squirming bitch deserved!
"AAAAGGGGGGG!" Randi groaned with each inch he pressed into her tight, hot passage. And yet, she still waggled her ass and skewered herself father down on his prick, burrowing its never-ending relentless length in her bowels. Oh God, I'm being punished ... I'm punishing myself for all the misery of my husband and Fran and Joe ... yes, beautiful sweet pain ... There! I can feel the hair of his loins against my ass. I've taken all of him ... It's home! ... Oh, it's horribly marvelous!
His pelvis smacked loudly against her soft quivering ass cheeks as with a grunt he sank to the depths of her rectum. His balls swung hard against the gaping hole of her vagina, and Garrett thrust yet one-half an inch further. Randi whimpered, but like the slave she had become, screwed her buttocks tighter back upon his impaling member. And she kneeled slave-like, lost of all control, the pain suddenly gone as she reveled in the perverted sodomizing of her defenseless anus. Garrett flexed, and she made a choking sound as her soft flesh grappled hotly around his cock. For Randi there was now only desire in the place of the shame and humiliation of before, and the uncontrollable spasms of delight began to build with each buffeting charge of his jabbing penis. She twisted around to look at the effect he was having on her, her teeth bared in beast-like rapture at the sight, and Garrett, too, watched his wild thrusting into the split crevice of her sensuously wiggling buttocks.
Randi wallowed obscenely, raising and lowering her hips almost to the tip of his lust-hardened cudgel, then back down to drive it deep within her burning channel, the blunt intrusion firing every fiber of her being. She rested her head upon the rug and reached back with her left hand and caressed the sperm bloated sacs which pounded her ass cheeks, running a fingernail over the bottom of his prick as he lunged in and out, marveling at the feel of them.
The young boy became aware that her action caused even more sensation than he had thought, and his lust increased wildly. He saw her right hand dip back and he heard wet, sloshing sounds as she crazily thrust her fingers into the hairy folds of her cunt, deep in her vagina.
My breasts are as bloated as his testicles ... I can watch my fingers between them as my cunt swallows more and more of them ... He's watching too, his eyes wide with excitement as I fuck both him and myself. At last I have completely impaled myself ... and it's all my own doing!
Trancelike, lost in the revelry of the bliss, she looked up just as the bedroom door opened and Joe Levitt stepped out, naked. He walked slowly across the floor to Randi, his large prick held high by his rubbing hand. The long balls swung against his legs, and Randi surged back against Dean Garrett and her hands even harder. She was unable to speak, to loosen her grip from the obscene trap she was in as he knelt before her fear-contorted face.
"Hello, Mrs. Malone," he said, grinning. "Glad to see you're enjoying yourself."
"Oh God! Oh God, she's everything you said she was!" Garrett groaned, his body contorted, pumping wildly.
"Do you like it, Mrs. Malone?" Levitt asked solicitously.
"Oooooh, God ... ohhhhhhhh ... what are you ... doing here ... what ..." she moaned out helplessly between her tightly clenched teeth.
"What do you think, Mrs. Malone?" Levitt said. "Helping my roommate get a little of my friend's mother's ass, that's what. And planning to get a little something myself."
"No ... no ... oooooooohhhhhhhh!" Randi's eyes rolled upward, catching nothing but Levitt's massive penis rising above, seeing every ridge and pore of it as he lowered himself still further toward her mouth.
"Put your hand on my cock," he commanded, his legs widespread before her cringing face, close to her ears. Then, sensing she had no choice, her hand wrapped around his huge masculinity, and she shivered with wanton carnality at the touch. She began to work her hand roughly up and down, watching its foreskin pucker over the engorged head, then wrap itself over the shaft. She rested her stroking hand on her elbow, but her left hand still sank itself in her steaming cunt, vigorously flaying the livid orifice in time to her slow masturbation of Levitt. With her own fingers she could feel the young boy's cock slipping in and out of her anus through the membrane of her vaginal walls, and the fire of her loins increased, demanding more than a single finger to feed its insatiable appetite. She inserted another and then a third, and still it wasn't enough.
"Suck me!" groaned Levitt, palpitating in front of her, "Kiss my prick! Suck it, baby, that's what I want!"
Without hesitation, without thought of what he was asking of her, she tasted his cock, tasted a male member for the first time, and its distinctive spice instigated wild uncontrollable tremors through her.
Oh! I love it! I love his prick! ... Oh what I've been missing all these years! It tastes so good! She washed his penis, lavishing her warm tongue over its base, along its thick underside to the coronal ridges sticky and protruding from its foreskin, playing and caressing it with every lapping stroke. She grazed its smooth, rubbery head with her teeth, tickling the parted hole with the point of her tongue, then returned down and to the sac of sperm, the wire hairs tickling her tongue as saliva dripped excitedly along the organ. Randi went wild with frenzied new emotions, thrilling with the erotic fermentation of his cock and testicles. She trailed her tongue between his widespread legs, painting his inner cheeks and stiffening her tongue against the rough, sphincter of his anus.
God! She loved it in her mouth! She loved to fuck him with her mouth! She wanted his sperm to load her throat and fill her stomach! Quickly she trailed her tongue back over his balls and along the heavy shaft and then slipped her lips down over its head.
Randi continued to manipulate his prick as she encompassed the spongy crown, then let it sink full length to her throat. Her head bobbed up and down as Joe groaned and thrashed beneath her. Her own fingers were charging ever faster in her cunt, and Garrett was pumping madly in her rectum. Any second now all of them would cum, she could sense it, and the knowledge brought new heights of dizzying pleasure. Yes! Yes! She couldn't wait for the hot, sticky sperm to bloat her bowels and fill her mouth. Crazily she rammed against Garrett, and faster she sucked Levitt, her tongue swirling voraciously as his blood-filled prick pumped crazily into her sensuously ovaled lips. Her cunt began to quiver and pulsate, and then ...
Garrett screamed and unleashed a torrent of obscenities above Randi. She thrust her fingers to the hilt in her curt as she felt the first hot boiling squirts of his semen fill her back passage, the white cream bubbling over her asshole and streaming down to the floor.
She shivered under him, never losing the rhythm of her mouth on Levitt's cock. Her eyes widened as her breasts heaved, and Levitt's pubic hair brushed against the sides of her mouth as she all but swallowed his fleshy hardness. Oh God ... I'm going to ... yes, yes, yes ... I'm going to cum ... Harder! Harder! She dug her fingers yet more wildly into her vagina, twisting and turning to catch their every motion. Then she felt the tremor of her climax sweep through her and her pussy flowered with warm hot gushes of lewdly cascading fluid.
Levitt felt her jerk and spasm, and her cumming produced a violent reaction in him. He looked down at her writhing mouth and whipping hand and he plunged further, deep, deep inside her throat. Her lips sucked his prick like life itself, and he moaned uncontrollably. He yelled out: "It's here! Oh, suck harder! Milk my ballllllssss!"
Randi pounded her mouth and hands frantically up and down on his thick shaft, and then Levitt's cock began a sudden spasmodic action and he grabbed her head and held it to him as it spewed hot jets of sperm deep in her throat. Randi continued to suck, swallowing the gushing cum, her adam's apple bobbing in rapid sequence. She continued to suck, swirling her tongue around to wipe him dry. His groans of pleasure simmered to sighs of contentment, his hands no longer pressing against her head, and the giant penis gave one last spurt of remaining seminal fluid.
Garrett pulled his now limp prick from her forever stretched rectum, the sound an oddly lewd pop, and Levitt pushed her away. Randi pressed forward again, though, and began to lick the base of Levitt's penis where the tiny tufts of pubic hair were matted with the cum which had escaped her tightly closed lips. She could feel him jerk beneath her and a moment later it was clear of all escaped juices, glistening wet from her saliva. She watched it with eyes inches away as it slowly deflated and sank to softness.
"Man, that was something!" Garrett breathed from behind her. He looked at the almost obscene trickle of semen along her chin. "God almighty!"
Levitt looked amused.
Randi lay back, her face buried from them as reality slowly returned to her. She heard them rise and walk into the bedroom, Garrett gathering up his clothes, and moments later she saw them return, pants and shirts on.
"I guess you must hate us now, Mrs. Malone," Levitt said quietly. "But you have to admit, it was good."
Slowly Randi looked up at the young man. He grinned down at her affectionately. She found her own lips spreading in a little smile and she replied: "Can ... can I trust both of you never to tell?"
"Promise," Dean Garrett said. "That's a promise."
"You ... you'll never try this again, will you?"
"Oh," Levitt said nonchalantly. "We might discuss that point the next time. Okay?"
Randi felt her breath quicken involuntarily. "Yes," she answered very softly. "Okay. Let's see what happens."
Chapter 6
Shortly before nine Tuesday night, Fran said, "You know what I'd like? Some ice cream. I don't know why, but I've got this terrible craving for ice cream."
Like hell you've got a craving for ice cream, Gary thought. You've got a craving for about ten inches of big throbbing cock. He thought about her fervently whispered words to him alone by the pool when he had arrived home from the office this afternoon, "I'll make some excuse so we can be alone tonight. All right?" Christ yes, it was all right. It was fine, wonderful, Rumdandy.
He said now, "Hey, ice cream sounds like a good idea. Listen, I'll drive you to the store if you want."
"Okay," Fran said. "You don't mind, do you, Bob?"
Bob, sitting on the divan, immersed in the sports section of the newspaper, made an affirmative comment which sounded like, "G'head, s'okay."
Fran turned her smoky gaze on Gary for a single instant, and then moved toward the door. "We'll be back in a little while, darling," she called.
Gary followed her, and they walked to the garage and the Austin Healey. Fran was a step ahead, and he watched the undulations of her youthful rounded ass beneath a yellow mini skirt. Jesus, he had half a hard-on already, just thinking about those hot, hungry cheeks grinding away under his pounding pecker. I'm going to fuck you purple, he thought, you rotten little bitch.
They reached the garage and slid into the little sports car. As Gary brought its engine to life, he found himself thinking about Sunday night's outing with Bob at the country club. It hadn't worked out the way he'd thought at all. They'd had that couple of drinks and talked about things openly- college, the future, women-in a way they had never been able to do before. But Gary had found that he was incapable of telling Bob about his fianc�e. Oh, he had brought up the subject, asked Bob what he knew about the girl and all that, but the light that shone in his son's eyes when he mentioned Fran Crocker had been too intense; he couldn't bring himself to intimate that maybe she wasn't all he thought she was, much less lay it on the line. And there was another reason, too, Gary had to admit that; a selfish reason, a reason of pure lust: he wanted to throw another fuck into that tight-pussied little whore, and another after that, and another ...
No, Sunday night hadn't worked out. But things would, somehow; they had to, he'd see to it. His son's well-being was more important than some hot-assed chippy, wasn't it? Well, goddamn-it, wasn't it?
Savagely, Gary threw the Healey into reverse and backed out of the driveway with tires squealing. Fran looked at him with sensual expression, and he felt his cock surge with anticipation; oh God, she could drive a man crazy, send him right over the edge. Especially when he had a wife like Randi, a cold fish who shriveled up inside every time he touched her ...
Randi. She had been acting kind of strange the past couple of days, now that he thought of it. Like tonight, the way she had hustled out immediately after dinner, taking the wagon. Some meeting or other, she'd said, but she had seemed nervous as a cat. Gary grinned to himself. Maybe she's got a lover stashed away some place, and she's gone off to meet him. Sure, that would explain that kind of preoccupied air about her the past couple of days; the way she's drawn in on herself, won't talk to Bob or me or Fran except in monosyllables. Yes sir, old Miss Iceburg probably has some young stud stashed away, all right.
And I shit gold bricks twice a day, too.
He began to laugh as he took the Healey through the gears. He turned onto Lawson Avenue, a large thoroughfare which would take them to a nearby shopping center-or to the low-tree-studded private foothills beyond.
Fran pivoted toward him on her side of the two-seater. He had the top down, and her black hair fanned behind her like the flowing mane of a sleek mare; he could smell the perfume she was wearing, the near musk of her body. "What's so funny?" she asked over the roar of the engine and the whistling passage of air.
"Not a thing," he answered, chuckling.
"I'll bet. Where are we going?"
He grinned at her. "I thought you wanted some ice cream."
She moistened her lips. "You know what I want."
"No, tell me."
"I want you," Fran said. Her voice had lowered in pitch, had become throaty.
"What do you want? Tell me exactly what you want."
Fran began to breath harder. She leaned against him on the seat. "I want that big fucking cock of yours twitching around up inside my stomach," she whispered close, and then her tongue darted out and began to explore his inner ear, hotly, wetly, maddeningly.
Gary felt a spasm of excitement course through him at the contact, felt his balls begin to ache and his prick begin to leap into hardness. He kept both hands tightly on the wheel, his eyes on the road. There was a street up ahead which would take them on a winding snake-like path through the nearing foothills, and he didn't want to miss it. He knew of a spot up there, in a copse of eucalyptus; he had taken a waitress from one of the restaurants near the country club there one time, a young snapper who had let him fuck her in the asshole ...
Gary forgot all about the waitress as Fran's hand came onto his thigh and climbed upward to the bulge of his erect cock. She began to stroke it, gently, back and forth with the palm of her hand as her tongue darted in and out of his ear, in and out, her hot breath blowing sweet against the lobe. His foot pressed harder on the accelerator, and moments later he swung the Healey onto Echo Ridge Road. They began to climb past expensive, well-kept homes and before long, the area became less populated.
Jesus, Gary thought, I'm going to shoot my wad in my shorts if she doesn't stop rubbing like that!
Fran had his zipper down now, had taken his blood-engorged prick from his shorts. Her nails traced a delicious pattern along its underside, up and down, up and down, and her tongue assailed his ear madly now, as if she were fucking him there, about to climax. Then suddenly, her panting, wheezing breath and her tongue left his ear, and her head dipped down as she scooted her body lower on her side of the car. Her warm, saliva-moist lips came in contact with his prick, encircling the swollen head, and an electric shock ran through Gary's body. He almost lost control of the little sports car, its headlights stabbing crazy, jagged holes into the empty blackness of the road; but then he managed to straighten it out as Fran began a gentle sucking motion on his cock, taking it deep into her throat, those nails of hers maddeningly tickling his balls, tickling the base of his palpitating member, causing boiling sperm to built in his scrotum.
Up ahead he saw the side road which he sought. He turned there, one hand leaving the wheel to push Fran's head harder down against his loins, causing the entire length of his huge prick to slide into her convoluting mouth.
"Not so fast!" he breathed urgently. "Jesus, not so fast; I'll pop my nuts!"
But Fran only increased her mouthing of his cock, letting her tongue ream the opening in the glands, tantalizing it voraciously with her flaming breath, running her nails faster along the underside of his wet, burning prick. Dimly, Gary felt his balls build to the bursting; he wanted to push her head away, but all he could do was grind her mouth down harder on his organ, his fingers splayed on the back of her head.
"Ohhhhmmmmmmmmmmmm!" Fran gurgled, sucking harder.
"Oh godamnitttttt!" Gary wailed. "I'm cumming! I'm ... cum ... cummmminnnggggg!"
Waves of intense, pin wheeling light flashed back of his eyes as his balls exploded his load of sticky white semen, sent it gushing through his spasming cock and into the soft, fleshy warmth of his son's fianc�e's hungry, waiting mouth. She accepted the churning, seemingly endless flow as if it were some life-sustaining liquid, mumbling incomprehensible noises deep in her throat. His body jerked convulsively, and his foot came crashing down on the brake, causing the little sports car to fishtail violently; his hands fought the wheel as his sperm flooded deep into her still sucking mouth and throat, as the torrent of his climax made him almost incoherent with rapture.
The Healey finally shuddered and died off on the side of the road, its nose pointed at the base of a huge eucalyptus tree some four feet away; Gary's cock finally shuddered and died inside Fran's now-gently-nibbling mouth. He fell back against the seat, his eyes closed, as she let his deflating prick slide wetly from her lips, raised up, and kissed him full and hard on the mouth, his own still-warm semen smearing over his lips.
"Now," she said huskily, beginning to unfasten the yellow mini skirt and grinning hungrily, "It's your turn, loverdaddy."
* * *
Randi lay stretched out, nude, beside the satiated, sleeping form of Joe Levitt, her son's friend. Smiling in the darkness, she reached out a hand to touch the flaccid penis between his legs, so limp and innocuous now, cradled in the soft hammock of his balls, when only moments before it had been a hammering weapon of excruciating pleasure. She stroked it fondly, remembering how his lovely cock had brought wave after wave of marvelous climax washing over her, time and time again. How many times had she cum? She wondered languidly, fondling his pecker, feeling the first signs of renewed life begin to show in it as it pulsated lightly under her fingers. Had it been four times? Five? Or more? Oh, so lovely, so very lovely and wonderful.
Randi sighed contentedly. She was glad Joe had called her that afternoon, glad he had demanded her to come to his apartment tonight. She remembered how her cunt had tingled maddeningly at the thought of what would happen-what had happened-when she arrived. She had been so nervous all through dinner; had Gary or Bob noticed? Well, no matter if they had. They wouldn't have any idea what the reason for her skittishness had been.
It was really amazing, she thought as she played with the young boy's cock. There was simply no guilt left within her; she had not felt any remorse, any shame, since yesterday when both her anus and her mouth had lost their virginity in one mesmeric crash of orgasm. She had realized her total emancipation immediately after leaving the apartment, had fully realized it then though she had, of course, known it while sucking Joe's magnificent cock and feeling Garrett's young, eager shaft ripping into her rectal passage. It was as if the two boys had combined to purge her of all inhibitions, all guilt, purge her forever; it was as if she had been reborn, was a new and different woman, although the body and the memories were the same. She was a hedonist now, a lover of pleasure, of the hardened male member, of sex in any form; there was nothing ugly or sinful or wrong in that, was there? No, of course not; she had lived all these years under a terrible delusion. How could there be anything wrong, how could she have thought there could be anything wrong, with wonder and bliss and total ecstasy?
She could almost understand Gary's enrapture of Fran, could almost understand the girl's admitted love of fucking both male and female. She was that way now, too, or at least she had come to love the fucking of a man. So how could she really blame them for what she knew they would probably be doing again, perhaps even right at this very moment? Oh, it was true that she still didn't want Bob to marry Fran, she didn't want her son married to that girl because ... well, it just wasn't right, that was all. Still, she no longer hated Fran as passionately, as all-consumingly, as she had before ...
Levitt's young prick was beginning to come alive under her gently massaging fingers, growing rigid, swelling to gigantic proportions. She rolled onto her side, stroking his member with practiced ease now, making it as hard as a diamond shaft. Levitt moaned in his sleep; his eyes finally fluttered open.
Randi kissed him wetly on the mouth, fondling his balls tenderly. "Want to sleep some more?" she asked teasingly.
"No," he said. "Hell, no." He raised himself to an elbow, looked into her eyes and then down at her stroking hand on his rod. "I sure don't!"
"Do you want to fuck me again?"
"Yes!"
"Do you want to fuck my cunt or my asshole?"
"Both! I want to fuck both!"
"Which one first? Which one, Joe?"
"Your cunt! I want to fuck your cunt first!"
"How? How, Joe?"
Levitt was panting uncontrollably now, his buttocks arching under Randi's quietly moving hand. He reached out, found the soft, still wet slit of her pussy, began to roll her clitoris around excitedly with the tip of his finger. "Dog fashion!" he whispered. "Get on your knees!"
"Like this?" Randi panted, getting onto her knees, leaning forward on her hands as she released his prick.
"Yes!" Levitt raised up, got behind her on the bed; he tickled her asshole with the inflamed head of his cock, dipped it lower to move along the exposed sperm-drenched hole below; with one hand he squeezed one of her breasts, pinching the nipple, sending intense bursts of passion through Randi.
"Now!" she moaned to him, waiting for that wonderful young tireless cock of his to tear inside her, to fill her, to cum and make her cum, to give her what she had just acquired these past few days. "Fuck me, Joe! Shove it into me and fuck me until I scream! Make me scream for you!"
And when he plunged forward, ripping into her, she did scream for him, and she kept screaming for him until the world and the universe exploded in one blinding, searing, kaleidoscopic, rapturous burst of light over and over again until her passion-dazed mind thought it would never stop ...
* * *
Randi was relaxing with a tall gin-and-tonic on one of the chaise lounges beside the pool. It was late Thursday afternoon now, and the drink was her fifth since two o'clock.
She felt pleasantly euphoric, lying there beneath the warmth of the sinking sun overhead. For some reason that she couldn't explain, she'd also taken a fondness to liquor in the past couple of days; the raw, oily taste of gin had an oddly pleasing quality on her tongue, and she liked the carefree, floating feeling it gave her after a while. She had always thought alcohol to be potentially dangerous, had always been wary of its effects, had only taken a drink or two at parties and get togethers to be sociable, had never really been drunk in her life. Well, she had still never been drunk, not really you understand, but she knew she was high today-as she had been high yesterday-and it was such a lovely way to spend an afternoon. High, floating, high, high, high ...
"Hi, Mom," Bob's voice said close by.
Randi started momentarily, and then smiled dreamily as she turned to see her son standing beside the chaise lounge, "Bobby," she crooned. "Where have you been all day?"
"Had to go to San Francisco to see about that electronics job," he answered, frowning slightly. "Remember, I told you at breakfast?"
"Oh, yes, of course," Randi said. She stretched languorously, and her soft breasts fought at the obstructing material of her thin halter; muscles rippled along her thighs. "How did things work out, honey?"
"Well, pretty good, I think. I should know for sure by Saturday."
Randi lay looking up at her handsome young son, as the hard pectorals stretching taut his thin knit shirt, at his lean tapered waist, at his faintly bulging groin. Such a magnificent manchild he is, she thought proudly. So much more handsome than Joe Levitt or Dean Garrett, so much stronger, so much more beautifully proportioned, so much more ...
"Say, Mom, are you okay?" he asked. His eyes went to the glass in her hand. "You look kind of funny. Have you been ... drinking?"
"Just one or two gin-and-tonics," she answered. "Do you really mind, Bobby, dear?"
"Well ... no, certainly I don't mind."
"Good," Randi said. "Good, honey."
"Listen, Mom, I was wondering if it would be all right to have a sort of small party here on Saturday night. Like a going-away party, you know? I thought I'd invite Joe Levitt and Dean Garrett and their dates, and maybe another couple or two."
"Joe Levitt?" His mother was taken back for a moment, but quickly recovered. "Why, yes, that sounds like a nice idea, Bobby. A party would be lovely, wouldn't it?"
"Sure," Bob enthused. "We could go swimming, possibly, and maybe ... well, I thought you and Dad wouldn't mind if maybe we had a little beer or something."
He was interrupted by the rumbling echo of the Healey's exhausts, heralding Gary's arrival home from the office. Randi saw the little sports car slide to a halt behind her wagon, and the tall, husky figure of her husband step out.
Bob said, "Excuse me a minute, Mom. I want to talk to Dad about ... something."
Randi nodded, and he moved quickly along the flagstone path to where Gary stood. She heard him say, "Can I see you a minute inside, Dad?" and Gary answer, "Sure, Son." Then the two of them went across the lawn and through the front door of the house.
Randi drank the remaining liquid in her glass and placed it carefully on the circular metal patio table next to the chaise lounge. She lay there for a time, and then, deciding she would like another drink, she got to her feet slowly. Whoops! she thought, stifling a giggle, as she swayed unsteadily for an instant. Mustn't fall down now, mustn't do that. She picked up her glass again and then started carefully toward the open glass doors of the porch.
She stepped into the cool interior of the house. Just as she did, the telephone began to ring. One of the three extensions in the house was on a stand in the hallway near her, and Randi stepped there and lifted the receiver. But before she could acknowledge, Bob's voice said, "Hello?"
He had probably picked up the phone in the kitchen, she thought, simultaneous with her answering. She started to replace the receiver in its cradle when a familiar voice said, "Oh, hi, Bob. This is Joe Levitt."
"What's doing, Joe? Listen, I was just going to call you."
"You were?"
"Yeah. What are you doing Saturday night?"
"Well ... I've got a date with Sally Enders."
"Groovy. What's Dean doing?"
"We're doubling. He's taking Donna Whalen."
"What're you planning to do?"
"Oh ... go to a drive-in, I guess. You know."
"Yeah, I know. But listen, I've got a better idea. I'm going to throw a little party here at my place. We'll have a little beer, maybe some hard stuff. My folks don't give a damn."
"Well, now ... "
"There's also going to be an added attraction."
"What's that?"
"Movies," Bob said.
"Huh?"
"Films, dig?"
"What kind of films?"
"The best kind. Eight millimeter, in living color."
"Jesus! You don't mean ...?
"Don't I?"
What were they talking about? Randi wondered. Films? What possible type of films could Bob be planning to show? She knew she should hang up, but she was curious now ...
Joe Levitt's voice said, "Where are you getting them?"
"My old man."
"You're kidding."
"Not a bit."
"I didn't know he had that kind of stuff."
"He doesn't," Bob said. "He knows somebody at the country club who has a whole collection."
"How'd you talk him into getting them for you?"
"No sweat. We had this long man-to-man talk the other night, see, birds and the bees crap; for some goddamned reason, he seems to think we need to be buddies. I had to play it cool, of course, but I talked him into it. Just now. I had to tell him just the guys would watch them, you know, but you'd better believe we'll let the chicks see 'em."
"Then your old man and your ... your mother won't be there?"
"Hell, no. He said he'd take Mom out."
My God! Randi thought. They were discussing stag movies, those ... filthy things you got in Mexico and South America! And Bob-her sweet innocent Bob-was going to show them Saturday night, show them to Fran and the girls Joe and Dean would bring! But how ... how could that be? Bob wasn't like that ... Was he? Was he?
"About ... about these films," Levitt said softly. "Are ... are they really good. I mean ... you've never seen them yourself, have you?"
"No, but if I know this guy my old man is getting them from, they'll be beauts. Probably as good as the ones I've seen myself down at school."
Down at school? My God, My God, he's ... he's watched stag films before! Oh, Bob, Bob, how could ...?
"Do they actually ... show fucking?" Levitt asked breathlessly.
"Shit, yes."
"With close-ups?"
"Sure."
"The old ... the old balls bouncing off the chicks' assholes?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, Jesus! And do they suck one another off? Sixty-Nine?"
"Goddamn straights they do."
No, no she wasn't hearing correctly! She couldn't be hearing correctly! That wasn't Bob talking on the phone with Joe Levitt, that couldn't be Bob talking! Not Bob, not her Bob ...
"What about the ones with ... with dogs?" Levitt asked eagerly. "Will there be one of those?"
"I hope so," answered Bob. "I remember a scorcher with this Doberman Pinscher. Big son of a bitch, with a tongue as long as my pecker. It kept licking this redhead's cunt, up and down, and then it climbed on and with a cock the size of a thermos bottle and threw a fuck into her like you couldn't believe ... "
Randi let the receiver fall loudly into its cradle, not caring whether Bob realized that he was being overheard or not. She fled into the living room. In spite of herself, she had felt while listening the first tingling moistening of her own cunt at the sound of Bob's salacious description, at the mental image his words had produced of a huge, hulking canine with its long red tongue and sleek, lean loins and monstrous animal cudgel violating some girl's body on a flickering screen ...
Oh Bob! her mind cried. Oh Bobby, you've grown up, you've really grown up, you've really changed! You're no longer incorrupt, no longer the manchild I thought you to be, no longer my sweet little boy!
She ran to an ornately-carved cadenza set against one wall, where most of the liquor supply was kept; slid back its louvered doors and took out the bottle of gin. Oh God, O Jesus, but she needed a drink ...!
Chapter 7
Randi worked steadily on a quart of gin all day Saturday, sneaking little nips when Bob and Gary weren't looking. They seemed not to notice that she seemed to float about the house a little higher off the ground with each passing hour. Fran, who had been shopping that afternoon in San Mateo, realized Randi's state when she arrived home at five, but she only smiled and said nothing.
At seven, Gary came out to where Randi was sitting by the pool, her eyes glassy and a little out of focus. "What the hell?" he said. "You sick or something?"
"Why no, my darling husband," she said, giggling. "Not at all."
"Well, you'd better get dressed. Bob's friends will be here pretty soon."
"What's wrong with the way I'm dressed now?" Randi murmured.
His eyes moved slowly over the thin halter she wore, the revealing, almost-bikini shorts. "Do you want the kids to see you half-naked?" he snapped.
"Why not?" She lifted one arm lazily in a gesture of uncaring.
"Goddamn it, you little prick-teaser!" Gary hissed. "You get inside and into some decent clothes, you hear me? I'll slap that cold ass for you if you don't!"
Fuck you, you big old bear, she thought dreamily. And wouldn't you like that? Wouldn't you like me to fuck you like you've always wanted, wildly, abandonedly, with my cunt sucking your big old hairy cock dry? Wouldn't you like that? Well, maybe I will; maybe I'll fuck you like I fuck Joe Levitt and Dean Garrett. And like Fran, bitch-Fran, fucks you. Because my ass isn't cold any longer, not cold at all, my big old animal bear of a husband ...
Swaying, Randi stood and went into the house, letting her hips swing to and fro lewdly before Gary's watching eyes. She decided to have a shower, and the time she spent under the lukewarm spray sobered her somewhat, although not enough to take off the edge of her euphoria. She combed her long blonde hair carefully, causing its silkiness to shine with hidden highlights, and then dressed in a thin, back-zippered velour sweater and a pair of toreador pants. She went out into the living room.
Levitt and Garrett had already arrived with their dates. Joe's girl, Sally Enders, was tall, willowy, auburn-haired, with a slim figure which would have reminded Randi of a model's if it were not for the fact that her breasts were large and up-tilted beneath a tight angora sweater. A cream-colored mini skirt revealed slender, bronzed legs. Donna Whalen, Garrett's date, was a fleshy brunette with too much make-up on her mouth and huge breasts which Randi knew would sag pendulously when she was nude. She wore a wildly psychedelic pants outfit. All four of them were sitting on the divan, the boys' eyes moved appreciatively, hungrily, over Randi as she entered.
"Introduce me to your friends, Bob," she said to her son, who was standing next to Fran beside a card table which Gary had set up in one corner of the room. On the table was a huge galvanized tub, filled with ice and a pony keg of draft beer Gary had bought for the party; large paper cups ringed the table, and her husband was busily filling these for the others from the keg.
"You know, Joe, I think," Bob said. He quickly introduced the others.
"So verrrry nice to meet all of you," Randi purred, secretly enjoying Gary's warning look and the hint of embarrassed color which splotched his cheeks.
He quickly distributed the cups full of foaming brew to the assembled youths, and then said lightly to Randi, "Well, I guess we'd better let these kids enjoy themselves without a couple of old chaperon's."
Randi looked at him in a sultry way. "Where are we going, dear?" she asked sweetly.
"Out for a drink and then maybe to a show," he said between pursed lips. His eyes flashed ominously.
"All right," Randi said. She allowed Gary to come forward and take her arm and lead her into the hallway. "Goddamn you!" he snapped then in a low voice. "What the hell's the matter with you?"
"Nothing's the matter with me."
"You were acting like some hungry old slut in there and you know damned well you were!"
Randi made a mock pout. "I'm sorry, darling."
Gary studied her for a moment, as if trying to interpret the look in her eyes, her actions only moments earlier; it was obvious that he didn't know what to make of this strange behavior in his heretofore invariably predictable wife. Finally, he shook his head sharply and led her to the front door. He called a good night to the group in the living room, and then hustled Randi outside.
They took the wagon, Gary driving, and went to a nearby cocktail lounge which was quiet and dimly lit. They sat in a rear booth, with tall gin-and-tonics. Randi sipped at hers, smiling over the rim of the glass.
"You're ... different somehow," Gary said. "I don't know what it is, but you seem to have ... changed the past few days."
"Have I?"
"Damn it, yes. You're not the same woman you were a week ago."
Randi laughed throatily. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I am a different woman."
"It's almost as if you were ...," Gary's voice trailed off, and he took a long swallow from his drink.
"As if I were what?" she asked.
He had been about to say, "As if you were finally realizing what life was all about, finally tuning in on how damned sweet and provocative it could be." But he couldn't put voice to the words. She would probably have laughed at him if he'd said it, anyway, this mood she was in. Besides, he knew it was all just his imagination, that she was putting on a facade for some reason of her own; that it was all meaningless. Because beautiful, stacked, and dead-cold inside was the true and accurate description of Randi Malone nee Car-stairs. Oh, there had been a time when he thought she would someday change, someday outgrow her frigidity and her fear of living; hell, he'd never have married her after she'd gotten knocked up if he'd felt differently. Now, there were appearances to keep up for the sake of his real estate business, and if it weren't for occasional, consuming affairs like Fran Crocker, he'd have blown his mind a long time ago.
Gary rotated his glass reflectively between his palms. Jesus though, he thought, there's no getting around the fact that she'd really be something fine if she'd somehow, miraculously, groove; goddamn yes, she'd be something to blow a man's mind in another fashion if she really did change.
Randi said, "I'd like another drink, dear."
"All right."
He slid out of the booth and went up to the bartender. Randi smiled to herself in the booth. Gary didn't know what to make of her attitude, she knew that, and his confusion pleased her immensely. She patted her hair. Well, maybe one of these days, one of these days soon, things would become crystal clear to him. She would have to think about that.
She found herself wondering what was happening at the party now, if Bob had begun to show the stag films yet. In spite of a faint, inbred disgust at the idea of lewd movies, she had to admit that the idea of watching other people fucking intrigued her; yes, and aroused her, too. Even now, she could feel her cunt moisten beneath the toreador pants, could feel her nipples grow turgid beneath the velour sweater. Even Bob's wanton words on the telephone two days before, the revelation to her of his lack of innocence, didn't seem so terrible any longer; the only thing which seemed to matter at this very moment was the tiny pulsing sensations which the imagined action of the stag films had caused in her clit ...
Gary came back with the drinks. "Here we go," he said.
She regarded him over the glass as he slid back into the booth, the rising waves of passion in her pussy causing her to squirm on the cushiony leather. I want to see them, she thought, I want to see those stag movies, see what's happening in them. Shall I tell Gary that I know about them? No, no, he might not take me home then. But if I make an excuse, pretend that I'm sick, he'll have to take me home. If I know him, he'll try to take me in the back way. It won't matter, though, because I'm going to see them anyway, no matter what he does. I have to see them, I just have to!
"Gary," she said, leaning across the table, "I don't feel very well ... "
* * *
The beer had flowed freely from the moment Randi and Gary left home, and conversation turned from the more prosaic topics of school and business prospects to off-color remarks and dirty jokes as the three young couples drank progressively larger amounts progressively faster.
Bob sat on the floor in front of his father's leather reclining chair, and Fran sat between his spread legs with the smooth curve of her back and hips pressed against his groin. His right hand circled her waist, fingers resting on her pubic mound, feeling the warmth of her feminity through the thin material of the micro-mini skirt she wore. The others were still on the divan, but no longer sitting casually there. Joe Levitt had his arm about Sally Enders' shoulders, and he moved his fingertips across the swelling mound of one of her jutting breasts; her hand rested on his thigh, gently kneading it, moving higher and higher with each stroke of his fingers on her tit. Dean Garrett, his face sweating, held Donna Whalen's hand in his lap, moving it back and forth lightly across the noticeable bulge in his slacks; she kept crossing her legs, uncrossing them, crossing them again, as if her young pussy was twitching irresistibly.
Bob finished telling a particularly vivid joke, and the punch line was greeted with howls of appreciative laughter. He threw down the remaining beer in his paper cup, gave Fran's cunt a light teasing stroke with his index finger, and then slid back away from her. He gained his feet. "Listen, everybody," he said with a wide grin. "I've got a little surprise for you!"
"Hey, now!" Levitt said. He moistened, his lips, winking over at Dean Garrett. "Hey, now!"
"What is it, Bob?" Sally Enders asked, leaning forward. As she did, she let her hand slide upward to cup Levitt's balls and prick, squeezing them gently.
Fran turned to look up at him from the floor. "Yes, what is it, lover? Something groovy?"
"It's groovy, all right," Bob leered. "Good and hot!"
"Well, what?"
"You'll see." He left the room then, only to reappear moments later with several reels of movie film and a movie projector in a leather carrying case. He displayed them with pride to the others.
"Oh wild!" Fran squealed. "Are those what I think they are?"
"You'd better believe it!" Levitt said from the couch. His hand had completely encircled Sally's left breast and was kneading it abandonedly. Her hand remained on his prick, rubbing now with the palm of her hand. Almost in unison, Donna's hand-needing no guidance from Garrett now- was stroking Dean's erect cock.
"Holy Jesus!" Garrett exclaimed, breathing rapidly. "Put 'em on, Bob, will you?"
"Yes, yes, put them on!" Donna urged.
Fran seemed to be squirming her tight young ass on the rug, opening and closing her thighs, pressing the soft folds of her cunt together as even the thought of what she was about to see stimulated her maddeningly.
Bob grinned and began to thread the projector in one corner of the room, so that it was focused on the bare white wall opposite; there was no need for a screen. Then he switched off the single lamp and drew the drapes over the patio window, plunging the room into complete darkness. Then he touched a switch on the projector, and a large square of light illuminated the wall.
At first there was only the light, but after a moment or two a small, feminine bedroom flashed onto the wall in full technicolor. In the middle of a wide double bed, a young girl lay reading a book. She was completely nude. Her firm, ripe breasts were starkly white against her sun-bronzed skin, the nipples a dark, blood-red and the aureoles a brownish gold. Her stomach was flat, curving softly into abdomen, and her pubic area was covered with silky auburn hair that matched the long tresses which framed her beautiful face. Her legs were parted slightly, just enough so that the camera was able to pick up the glistening folds of her vaginal lips and a faint hint of her youthful clitoris.
As she read the book in her hands, the young girl's eyes began to lid and her pink tongue came out to moisten her lips several times. The rise and fall of her superb breasts increased, and her cream-white buttocks began to rotate on the bed. It was obvious that what she was reading had aroused her, had brought waves of passion flooding through her.
Suddenly, her hand rose up from the book and began massaging her breasts in small, tantalizing circles, thumb and forefinger squeezing the nipples until they became even redder. Her hips continued their rolling motion, until, finally, her legs scissored wide to expose to the camera the entire length of her now moist cunt and the throbbing, rigid clit nestled within. Her hand left her breasts then, circling down over her stomach, down over her silky pubic hair, down between her legs so that the tips of her fingers revolved over the pulsating clit. Then they left it to travel slowly, agonizingly slowly, across the bronzed perfectly formed thighs, but only came back to her lust-dampened furrow as if drawn there by magnetic current. Her hips raised up, her legs jackknifing into the air as her finger began to tickle the bud of her clit, tickle it faster and faster, and she threw her head from side to side with an expression of sheer ecstasy on her flushed face. The tiny puckered hole of her anus seemed to throb invitingly beneath the rapid manipulations of her fingers in her open cunt.
"Hot damn, she's really giving it to herself!" Dean Garrett's voice rose out of the darkness, breathless with his own arousal. Donna Whalen had his fly open now, his rigid prick standing upright in her gently stroking hand. She had her eyes open wide, fascinated by the sight on the wall. Garrett moved across his body to the zipper on the side of her psychedelic pants, brought it down; his fingers moved then to the elastic top of her panties, slid inside and began to worm their way lower.
"Look at that tight little pussy of hers move!" Joe Levitt exclaimed. His excited young cock, too, was now exposed in the flickering light from the movie on the wall. Sally Enders was caressing it between the palms of her hands, her head resting on his chest. Levitt's hand had climbed inside her angora sweater now, inside her bra to tweak the rigid nipple, he put the other on Sally's auburn head, forcing it lower, lower, until it was only inches above the swollen, palpitating head of his cock.
On the floor, with Fran again between his legs, Bob had put his hands underneath her thin blouse, pushing aside her bra to cup the full, fever-hot globes of her tits. Fran was squirming her young, firm buttocks tightly against his hammer-hard shaft, her anus seeming to beg for his rod to push inside. He took one of his hands from her tit and dropped it to her micro-mini, wheezing hard now, and let it slide along the curve of her hip to her panties, drawing them down over the full mounds of her ass and then slipping inside to follow the crevice between her cheeks. Fran gasped as his finger found her anus, insinuated itself inside and began to saw slowly back and forth.
In the flickering technicolor film, the young girl was masturbating with almost insane concupiscence, her legs still upraised and her hips rolling in an impossible fever of motion on the rumpled bedclothes beneath her. But just as she apparently reached the point of climax, there appeared in the range of the camera a huge, furry form which bounded in a long, graceful leap onto the bed. It was a massive Great Dane, it's enormous jowls parted and its long, furled tongue panting wetly, redly, as it nuzzled the girl's upper body in a friendly way.
The girl became immobile at the touch of the animal's cold snout, her knees still drawn up to her chest and her finger positioned on the tip of her inflamed, erect clitoris. Then, slowly, she began to smile. She patted the Dane's gigantic head, and then pushed it lower, wiggling her body around on the bed until the well-lubricated slit of her passion was within close proximity of the dog's lolling tongue, patting her mound invitingly.
Tail wagging, the Dane lowered its head to the girl's trembling, moist-haired crotch and sniffed. Then its tongue snaked out with a long exploratory lick on the fluted edges of her cunt. The girl shuddered excitedly, her hips beginning to move again. The dog ran its tongue wetly the full length of her pink vaginal lips, from the puckered ring of her anus up and over her oscillating clit, then back again, then up again, flicking relentlessly deep within her. She jerked and rolled on the bed, her mouth opened wide with silent mewls of sheer delight, as the monstrous Dane lapped the juices of her flaming pussy.
"Goddamn, that bastard has a tongue a foot long!" wailed Donna. "Ohhh, God, I wish that was my cunt he was licking up there!" Her hand began to move faster and faster on Dean Garrett's prick, causing the cum to boil in his balls and his body to jerk convulsively. His finger was like a piston gone mad in the damp folds of her pussy, and he made little moaning sounds of pleasure as the moment of his orgasm neared.
Sally had taken Joe Levitt's cock into her mouth now, nibbling and biting it lovingly. Her eyes were still wide open, fastened on the images shining on the wall, as she moved her lips on his hardened shaft. "Ohhhhhh!" Levitt moaned. "Harder! Suck it harder, Sallllllyyyyyy! Oh, Yessss, yessss, oh will you look ... at that ... ohhhhh! ... that goddamned dog ... licking her twat!"
Fran's hips swirled on Bob's bludgeoning finger in her anus. Then, mewling, she raised up, pulling the digit out with a wet sucking sound, moving her knees outside his legs so that she straddled him with the soft white globes of her buttocks directly above his groin. "I don't ... want your finger ... anymore!" she cried, her eyes feasting on the orgy between dog and girl. "Your ... cock! I want your cock in my asshole, lover!"
Panting with salacious excitement, his brain swirling from the beer he'd drunk, Bob obediently removed his blood-hard rod from his pants. "Hold it ... steady!" Fran groaned, and Bob let his hand circle the base of his shaft, making it even more rigid than it already was, a huge throbbing hammer handle. Fran sank back, moaning as the swollen gland came in contact with the tiny ring of her anus, crying out in intense passion as the head slipped into the puckered opening, almost screaming with delight as she sank back with a sudden lunge to skewer herself all the way on Bob's immense cock. She began to rock back and forth, slowly at first, then more rapidly as her lust increased and the expanse of her asshole widened to accept the circumference of his member.
The girl in the film had reached down now to grasp the Great Dane's ears, to pull its enormous head closer to her well-lubricated slit, to pull its nose into her vulva. She maintained this position for several seconds, her body undulating wildly, her hands imprisoning the Dane's head in her cunt. But then the animal pulled backward, breaking her grip, its tail slapping to and fro like some great metronome, and began to nuzzle the glistening, quivering white cheeks of her buttocks. Its snout nosed her anus momentarily, and then began to root between her pelvis and the bedclothes, raising her buttocks even higher.
It was as if the girl had gone insane with her lust, as if the dog's relentless tongue had snapped every cell in her brain. Her lips were twisted into a mindless contortion of uncontrollable heat as she turned on the bed, knelt with her spread buttocks elevated to the eye of the camera. The Dane needed no coaxing. It mounted the girl immediately, its forepaws sawing at her waist in a kind of embrace, and its shining, wet, brilliant red penis dove into view from its concealment in the furry sheath of the animal's loins. The tapered head slid in and out of the damp crevice as the Dane fought to bury its cock in the waiting girl's cunt.
Looking back over her shoulder, her hips rotating madly in anticipation, the girl reached back to grasp the slippery organ, its redness contrasting almost ludicrously with her soft pink cunt lips. It slipped from her fingers, but she grasped it again, guiding the huge penis into her slit, spreading the opening wider and wider until it seemed as if she would surely split apart. The animal bucked wildly, driving his immense cudgel deep into the girl's squirming pussy, slammed home; its monstrous, hair-covered balls bounced against her defenseless pubic mound as she lunged backward to meet the panting dog's forward thrusts. Its forepaws hugged her waist more tightly now, as she began to rotate her hips more abandonedly beneath the Dane's pistoning loins, her face, turned toward the camera, was contorted even more mindlessly, even more salaciously, as the monstrous dog drove its crimson penis faster and faster, deeper and deeper, into her moist vagina ...
* * *
The house was dark, seemingly deserted, when Randi and Gary arrived home.
"I wonder where the kids are?" Randi asked innocently as the wagon drifted to a silent stop beside the Healey in the garage.
Gary shut off the headlights and opened his door. "They're probably, uh, sitting in the dark," he stuttered slightly. "You know how kids are when they're alone."
Oh, yes, Randi thought. She pressed her thighs together tightly. I know how kids are when they're alone. She thought of Joe Levitt's young, rigid cock-and of Dean Garrett's-and a trembling wave of anticipation took hold of her. "Let's go inside," she said quickly. "I-I think I'm going to be sick."
"All right," Gary answered. "But we'll go through the back door. We don't want to disturb Bob and his guests, do we?"
"No, no, we don't."
They followed the flagstone path around to the rear of the house, and Gary unlatched the door with his key. They entered silently, moving along the hallway to their bedroom. He whispered, "Why don't you get undressed and into bed? You'll feel better after you've had a good night's sleep."
"Aren't you coming to bed, too?"
"No, I-I think I left the pool heater on this afternoon. I'd better go out and turn it off."
"Suppose the kids want to go swimming later on?"
"Well ..." Gary faltered momentarily, and then said with conviction, "I don't think they will. I doubt if Bob's friends brought their suits." Quickly, then, he turned on his heel and started quietly back along the hallway to the rear door.
Randi stood in the darkened bedroom doorway, and laughed amusedly to herself. It was so obvious why Gary wanted to leave her alone that his lame excuse of the pool heater was almost ludicrous; he, just as Randi, had become aroused thinking of the stag films which Bob was showing, knowing that his son really wouldn't be projecting them for Joe and Dean but for the girls as well.
Yes, Randi thought, and knowing that the watching of stag movies sexually stimulated the viewer so intensely that the eventual participation in lustful games was profitable, if not completely imminent.
He had told her that himself, once, just as she had heard it whispered by others of her acquaintance. Consequently, and conversely, her own arousal had been heightened not by the prospect of seeing strangers fucking on a screen-but at the prospect of seeing people she knew, Joe Levitt and Dean Garrett and their dates, fucking in the flesh.
As well as the prospect of seeing her son Bob fucking that little bitch Fran.
Breathing heavily now, Randi left the doorway and began to make her way stealthily along the shadowed hallway toward the right-angled entrance to the living room.
* * *
The firm, resilient breasts of the girl in the film danced tightly beneath her writhing body as the huge Great Dane drove his flailing hot monster deep into her cunt. Her mouth was open and her lips formed words of lustful encouragement to the beast buried within her, urging him to fuck her harder and harder, to spew his searing animal sperm deep into her belly; she had been reduced to nothing more than a quivering mass of flesh beneath the Dane's hard pounding cudgel.
As the reel reached its conclusion, the girl's torso whipped madly from side to side as she began to experience the first overwhelming bursts of her tremendous, building orgasm. The Dane's impossibly long tongue lolled onto her frantically swirling auburn hair as the dog fucked deeper into her furrowed crotch. She rammed her buttocks with renewed frenzy against the animal as her cum flowed through her, as the first spurts of releases from the dog's flame-red cock leapt like molten drops of fire into the very core of her body. Thick sperm oozed from her cunt as it clasped the jerking prick of the dog, began to trail down along the backs of her thigh; and then, suddenly, after one final ramming jolt of her buttocks, she collapsed forward to lie gasping in sweat-soaked bliss on the bedclothes-and the Dane's penis deflated into its furry crevice as it nuzzled gently her moistly slick body in bestial thankfulness.
And then the film ended, abruptly, leaving only the glimmering square of light to illuminate the living room wall ...
"I'm ... I'm going to ... to cccuuummmmm!" Joe Levitt screamed from the divan as Sally Enders' ovalling lips sucked wildly on his cock. His hips heaved, bucked, shoving the engorged shaft full into her soft warm throat, and his fingers kneaded and tweaked her large, now-naked breasts painfully in the throes of his passion. "Ohhhhh, Ummmmmm, suck it suck it suckittttt!"
Beside the thrashing couple. Dean Garrett was burrowing his thick, dripping tongue into Donna Whalen's ear as her hand worked masterfully up and down his prick. He was almost there, almost, ... His finger twirled around her clit with insane fury, causing little staccato groans of pleasure to jerk from between her hotly moist lips.
"Cum with me!" Garrett squealed. "Cum with me, I'm going to blow your hand off with my load, ohhhhhh!"
"Yes, yes, yes!" she squealed. "Blow it off, Dean, blow it off. I'll cum with you, I will, will willlllllll!"
On the floor, Bob's fingers massaged the quivering white moons of Fran's soft, wildly rotating buttocks as his granite-like cock sawed in and out of her sensitive, sweating anus, faster and faster, his balls tingling with his impending climax, her hips rotating in wide frenzied circles above him. His hands squeezed her magnificent tits until the flesh overflowed his fingers, causing her to cry out in pleasure-pain and ram down harder on his rampant shaft ...
Oh my God! Oh my God, I'm watching my own son fucking a girl! I'm, watching him experiencing the most wonderful, the highest pinnacle of pleasure known to mankind! Randi stood quivering in the darkness of the hallway entrance to the living room, her body pressed tightly to the wall but in such a position so that she was able to see clearly in the flickering light of the movie projector the writhing young bodies in their various excited, abandoned embraces.
One part of her mind returned to the tag end of the film, to the full-color images of that monster dog and the young girl and the animal's rampaging, scarlet penis heaving into her lust-lubricated pussy. Randi felt her own cunt helplessly secreting a continual flow of her passion juices, soaking her panties, and the impossible sensations of delight which tingled her clit and her turgid, sensitively-aching nipples. Watching her own son sodomizing his girl, and the maddening undulations of the others, had aroused her to such a high state of passion that she knew she had to find release, and find it soon, or she would positively blow her mind! Ohhh God! she thought, squirming in the darkness, lowering her hand to cup her own moist cuntal mound, running her finger along her furrow outside the toreador pants. I want a cock inside me! I want a big, hot, moist, sticky, wonderful cock burrowing inside me right now! Flicking me, splitting me apart, filling me with buckets and buckets of hot delicious male cum!"
Bob was moaning on the floor now, moaning in unbridled ecstasy. "I'm ... I'm ... almost there! I'm going to get ... get my nuts ... anytime now! Ohhhhh, yesssss, Frannnn, I'm going to cum ... I can feel it ... in my balls ... "
"No, no, no!" Fran chanted, swirling above his plunging cock, unable to slow the delirious momentum his monstrous rod had instilled in her body. "No, don't cum yet, lover ... don't ... cum yet, I'm not ... ready yet ... "
But Bob was too far gone, the effects of the beer he had drunk causing great billowing waves of white-hot sperm to swell his balls to the point of bursting. Randi watched enthralled, spittle flecking the corner of her full red lips. As Bob's hands left Fran's breasts to grasp the gyrating hips at her waist, Randi inserted her hand inside the toreador pants and inside the elastic top of her panties, fingers sliding along her wet slit and coming to rest on the erect bud of her clitoris. She began to rock with silent pleasure, watching Bob jam Fran down on his pulsating cock, preventing her from slowing the motion of her buttocks even if she had been otherwise able to. His spongy, dampened penis filled Fran's rectum to the fullest; she could all but feel it touching her vital organs through the membranous inner wall.
And then Bob cried out, pulling her down even harder onto his searing prick: "I'm cummmmm-iiinnnnnnnnggggggggg!"
"No, noooooo!" Fran wailed in unison.
Randi's finger moved with lightening speed on her wildly throbbing clitoris, sending rapturous wonder through her belly, as she realized that Fran's cry had gone unheeded, that it had been too late. Bob's buttocks came up off the rug, grinding his loins against Fran's soft globes, as the first quick, sticky spurts of his semen erupted from the bloated sacs of his balls. It streamed deep up into her wide-stretched rectum as he bounced her wildly up and down, fucking her mercilessly, causing more of the lava-like flow to burst with machine gun rapidity into her defenseless opening.
I want to be fucked, I want to be fucked, I want to be fucked his young mother's mind sang as she continued her masturbation. She willed the grinding bodies of her son and his fianc�e not to cease until she had, even in her own small way, been able to relieve herself. But it was not to be. She moaned almost aloud as she saw in the projector's wavering light her son's prick throb out its last remaining gusts of cum, and then, almost immediately, begin to deflate. She saw it slip out of Fran's anus, thin strings of his hot seminal fluid following it, ringing and dripping from the girl's open, puckered little hole; saw Bob fall back on the carpet as the girl had fallen forward on the bed in the film, exhausted.
Trembling terribly, Randi continued to manipulate her clit-but somehow the sensation wasn't the same, even though Levitt and Garrett and their girls were still locked in orgiastic positions of ecstasy. She moaned again, audibly this time, but not loud enough for anyone to hear.
Fran, crouched on all fours now straddling Bob's prostrate form, turned on him suddenly with her teeth bared animal-like in the half-light of the room. "Goddamn you, you son of a bitch!" she snarled. "Why didn't you wait, why didn't you wait? I didn't cum, you bastard, oh you bastard I didn't cum!"
Bob didn't reply. His head was turned to one side, and Randi could see that he was almost comatose from the sheer physical exertion of his cum and from the lingering effects of the draft beer.
"Wake up, damn you!" Fran hissed. "Wake up and finish what you started! My goddamn cunt is churning ...!"
And mine, and mine, Randi's brain chanted involuntarily. But leave him alone, can't you? He'll be all right if you'll just leave him alone and let him rest for a while.
But Fran, still caught up in her passion, wasn't about to leave him alone. She grasped his now limp prick between her thumb and forefinger and pinched it, shaking the member from side to side in anger. "Get hard, oh goddamn you, get hard, get upppp! I need you, you bastard, I need you in my cunt!"
As she spoke, Randi heard a surreptitious sound off to her right, heard it clearly in spite of the gasping and panting of the couples still undulating on the divan. She recognized the sound instantly as a footfall on the hardwood floor of the foyer, and suddenly she realized that Gary must have been watching the scene in the living room just as she had; that he had made his way around the house and let himself into the foyer with his key.
As if to corroborate her thoughts, she saw the heavy, muscled figure of her husband emerge from the shadowed foyer and step into the dancing projector light. His face was contorted, and she knew instinctively that he had been as sexually aroused by what he had witnessed as she had been. He stepped forward, dropping to one knee on the carpet beside his son's prone, nude body, and the trembling girl above him. "Fran!" he whispered urgently, "Oh, God, Fran!"
Her head jerked up, and she raised herself into a kneeling position. Her breasts jutted brazenly forward, covered with the slick sweat of lovemaking, and her pubic area glistened wetly in the light; but she made no attempt to cover herself, made no attempt at false modesty. "You were watching!" she breathed, as if the idea intrigued her. "You were watching the whole time!"
"Yes!" Gary breathed. "Oh, Jesus, I saw you and ... and ... Bob ... what you were doing ... Oh, Fran, I've got a bone on like I've never had before!"
The girl began to tremble at his words, her eyes lowering to the bulging front of his pants. Gary said, "I heard what you were saying: that you didn't cum, that you needed a cock inside you."
"I do!" she moaned. "I do!"
Gary slithered forward, taking her by the shoulders, pulling her off his son's sprawled form and tight against him. His hand found one of her breasts, squeezed. "I want to fuck you!"
"Yes, yes, yes!"
"I want to suck your pussy, too! I want to suck your pussy before I fuck you!"
"Oh, Christ, yes!" Fran's hand dipped to his belt, tugged furiously at it, drew his pants down with tremulous fingers; his shorts were next, and then his throbbing rock-hard member leapt into view, looking purplish and hugely grotesque in the wavering light.
Randi, watching from the hallway, sucked in her breath sharply. She had almost forgotten what Gary's prick looked like, it had been so long since he had last fucked her; and then, she had been the old Randi, the unchanged Randi. Now, seeing its gleaming head, the few drops of lubrication oozing and shining from the small opening, she began to tremble violently. Ohhhhh, but I never realized that he has such a marvelous penis! Such a wonderful cock! I can almost feel it inside me, ripping and tearing inside me ... But it's not going to be inside me, it's going to be inside Fran, inside that bitch Fran who only moments ago was fucking my son! I can't let that happen, can I? I can't ... but how can I stop it without going out there? If I do, Gary won't want to fuck me, he'll be angry because I broke up what he's starting with Fran ...
Fran was rubbing Gary's lust-rigid prick between the palms of her hands now, making liquid sounds deep in the folds of her throat. His hips began to rotate under her ministrations, but he hissed: "Not here! Bob ... might wake up! And ... and the others ... "
"Where, then?"
"Not ... not my bedroom ... Randi's there ... Bob's room ... Ooohhhh, yes, I want to fuck you in my son's own bedroom!"
"Yes, yes, ohhhh, yesssssss!"
As Randi watched, Fran and her husband rose as one, the girls' hand wrapped tightly around his aroused, hardened cock, Gary holding his lowered trousers at his thighs. They stumbled toward the hallway entrance, and Randi, in sudden fright at being discovered, pressed back deeper into the shadows. They passed by her, the sound of their hot, lust-filled breathing seeming to fill her ears. When they reached the door to Bob's bedroom, two away from Gary's and hers and adjacent to the guest room across the hall, Gary shoved open the door and they lurched inside. Randi heard it click shut loudly behind them.
What am I going to do? she thought frantically. Oh God, I'm so hot, my pussy is so hot, and my own husband is in there with our son's fianc�e! But it's my own fault; I let him go in there, I just let him walk in there with her hand wrapped around his great, monstrous, lovely cock ...
She looked back in to the wavering light of the living room. Moans of climax and impending climax met her ears from the mass of naked and near-naked flesh on the divan as Joe and Dean and their girls fucked and sucked in oblivious passion, neither knowing nor caring what was going on around them. Randi's eyes dropped to the prone form of her son, lingering on his satiated nudity. Suddenly, Bob stirred, as if wakened by her gaze, and rolled over and then into a sitting position. He looked about foggily, seeking Fran but not finding her. Then he stumbled to his feet and started towards Randi.
He thinks she's gone into the bedroom! Randi thought. He thinks she's gone into his bedroom to wait for him! I can't let him go in there, I can't let him find his father and Fran together ... Or can I? The suddenness of that prerogative rendered Randi motionless as her son reached the hallway entrance, started past her, his young white cheeked buttocks swaying provocatively as he moved along the carpeted corridor. Yes! Yes, I can! I can let him walk in there and find them together, all right, find out just what kind of a slut he intends to marry! She won't have him, that way! She'll never have him that way!
Almost mesmerized by a strange feeling which seemed to flow through her, Randi followed Bob quietly down the hallway. There was no thought of the other consequences of Bob discovering his father and his fianc�e fucking together, no thought of the alienation of father and son; of the hatred which could develop between the two; of the possible break-up of their marriage ...
She was only two steps behind her son when he opened the door to his bedroom.
Chapter 8
As Fran and he entered Bob's darkened bedroom, Gary groaned involuntarily; her fondling of his cock had made it harder than a chunk of granite. He kicked the door shut and, turning, thrust his loins at the girl, his hot breath seething through his clenched teeth.
"Get naked!" Fran whispered. "Now, Gary!"
Fingers trembling spastically, Gary shed his clothes and stood nude before her. Fran giggled softly, and then dropped to her knees, bending his huge, jutting protuberance to her aching lips. She kissed its head, licking with the tip of her outstretched tongue, relishing the bittersweet taste of his penile secretions. She bathed his thighs and then nuzzled her mouth to the base of his cock and the throbbing brown gourds of his balls.
Gary stared down at the dark outline of the girl, seeing in the dim light of the one window her bobbing head plunging over his white bullock-sized prick. She slobbered lewdly, the saliva of her voracious mouth drowning the cock in a sea of rapturous licentiousness. He began to fuck her mouth, jerking and bucking his thighs to drive his dripping shaft deeper into Fran's engorged throat, feeling the back of her mouth with his sensitive head as it grazed the lust-choked pink ridges above her tongue. She can take it! he thought wildly. She can take all of me, all of any man!
Just like that piece in the film. He shivered at the sudden remembrance of the young girls hair-covered pussy being pummelled by the giant ramming cock of the dog. Christ! He had really been turned on, just like the kids, seeing those films again.
Gary grasped Fran's flaying hair and guided her head on his shaft. He thrust harder into her oral cavity, pumping like the dog had done, almost ready to split his groin with the mounting pressure of his cum. Fran was just like that punch board on the screen-lewd, perverse, whorish. She'd take a dog, that was for sure. She'd fuck anything. Yeah, yeah, she'd suck anything, too. She loves cock in her mouth. Gary gasped for breath, heavy steel bands seemingly constricting his chest. Oh God, Oh Jesus, Oh Christ, she'd suck and suck and suck! She'd suck that Goddamn dog too if she had the chance!
Gary humped and pummelled Fran's greedy lips, his eyes crazily devouring the sight of his cock disappearing inside, his mind whirling with the picture and the added recollection of the girl in the movie. "Ohhhhh!" he panted. "Don't stop! Don't stop, Fran ... "
Fran suddenly ceased her sucking and, pulling her head back, let his pecker slide out of her mouth. She laughed, then kissed the straining head. "No, you're not going to cum yet, big daddy. I had one disappointment tonight. I'm not going to have another!" She stood and fell back on the soft bed, legs wide and knees drawn up to her breasts so that Gary had a full, panoramic view of her lust-soaked vagina and feathery-globed buttocks. She clamped her hands around her legs and spread them wider. "Do it to me, now! Gary, do it to me now!"
Gary groaned, sucking in his breath at the beautiful sight which feasted his eyes. The lewd itching of his cock and balls had reached the unbearable stage, and the pounding build-up of semen was making his whole body cringe with aching. Yet he felt mesmerized as he gazed at the softly shadowed cunt with its sleek combination of curling pubic hair and thin, almost fluorescent pink silt running the length of her crotch, the rising and falling contours of her swelling breasts and surging thighs. He leaned over her and pressed his thumbs on either side of her cunt, the delicious odor of her bittersweet vagina assailing his nostrils. Tiny drops of seminal fluid trickled from his painfully throbbing organ, slipping down the gaping head and stickily wetting his matted pubic hair.
"Kiss my cunt!" Fran mewled.
Gary slowly lowered his head until he was inches from her twitching pussy. He felt her warm inner thighs as they pulsed and quivered expectantly and he heard her breath stop as it caught in her throat. Then he leaned still closer and opened the fleshy lips around her erected clitoris, touching the bud with the tip of his tongue. Fran shook convulsively and reaching forward, put her hands on his head and pulled his mouth to the moist, waiting furrow. Gary let his devouring lips and flicking tongue completely envelope her cunt, searching out the wet, hidden areas of special delight as he became more familiar with her fleshy, ovaled cuntal mouth.
His son's girl friend cried and clutched him tighter, her groans driving his mouth to faster and more frantic action. She was completely lost in enrapturement, every muscle of her thighs strained toward his maddening inquiry between her legs. He plunged his tongue deeper, only to withdraw it slightly and rim the ragged pink edges, taunting it mercilessly.
"Oh! Ohhhh! Agggghhhhh!" she panted, splaying her legs out wide to allow Gary more access. He could feel her sopping flesh churn around his long extended tongue as the walls of her ravaged vagina opened and closed in a lewd sucking motion, attempting to milk his tongue, pull it deeper within her insatiable hole. It was as if he were being swallowed by a hair-lined whirlpool, devoured completely. Her legs snaked back to close over his head and shoulders, trapping his face against her soft, squirming young pussy. His nose was pressed against her clitoris, forcing him to inhale the pungent aromas of her lusty, gluttonous cunt. The tang made him wild with desire. If he didn't fuck her soon, he was going to burst!
He involuntarily began to thrust against the bedspread, flexing his tortured penis against the pliant mattress. Every thought of discovery was lost; he was past caring who watched them now. Nothing mattered except the pulsating, inflamed young pussy of his son's future wife which was wrapped around his hungry, searching mouth.
"Jesus! Jesus Christ!"
Bob breathed the words in an explosion of breath as he stared into his dimly-lit bedroom, seeing the writhing couple on his bed, recognizing them through the haze of beer and satiated sleep. His jaw hung slack in wonder.
Randi, standing just behind him now, looking over his shoulder, lingered her eyes on the carnal activity of her husband and Fran. It was worse than she had imagined ... or, again, was it better? The bitch's legs were banded about Gary's head in a vice-like death grip, uncontrollably panting and groaning and demanding for her cunt to be suckled faster and harder by his slavering poker-hot tongue. She flung her buttocks abandonedly, her cunt glistening in the dim light, and Gary pumped the bed with his loins as if it were a woman, making slurping and sucking noises.
"Bob ... Bobby," Randi said suddenly, the words exploding from her lips before conscious thought.
Bob half-whirled, his eyes blinking rapidly, a look of horror in his eyes. "Mom!"
Randi wanted to say something comforting to him, to tell him it was all right, but her throat seemed swollen shut to such simplicities. Looking at his muscle-ridged nudity only inches away from her, at his now-half-erect, incredibly large young cock, filled her with dizzying waves of unfulfilled lust. Her belly and loins were aflame with more of the blinding passion which had been fostered by the film and her partial masturbation and the writhing couple before her.
"Mom, I ..." Bob began, and then faltered, seeing in her eyes the unmistakable signs of sexual arousal. Hesitantly, he let his gaze flick back to his father and Fran on the bed.
Randi heard herself say, "God, are they enjoying it, Bobby! They're really enjoying it!"
"Christ, yes!" Bob's voice breathed near her ear. "I'm ... getting another hard-on just watching, even if it is Dad and my girl!"
Randi's eyes lowered involuntarily at the sound of his words, seeing his young, blood-swollen shaft leap outward from his loins, stand immobile and proudly erect there. Her breath caught in her throat. "Bobby!" she whimpered. "Bobby ... "
"Look at them ... look at them go, Mom!" he hissed between compressed lips.
And, suddenly, Randi knew that within her son was a perverted desire which made him not only watch silently while his fianc�e-the woman he supposedly loved-was mouth-fucked by his own father, but which aroused him completely and totally as well. She could no longer deny his sexual awakening, that he was now a man with a man's yearnings and perversities, and that he was a desirable, virile, male with a monstrous lovely hard-on who was excited by his own mother's nearness!
Randi lost all control of herself then, for she was consumed by the force of her latent lust. She ground her teeth together, mewling "Bobby!" deep in her throat, and squeezed her gushing pussy together with her thighs. She was boiling inside, boiling, and she moaned at the force of her emotional heat.
Bob, still infused by the sight of Fran and his father's lewd performance and by the awareness of his mother's arousal, began to unconsciously knead Randi's hands over his sides and then over his bare belly, pulling his mother tighter against his hip. Randi could feel the heat of the one white ass cheek throb against her pubic mound, and she pushed eagerly against his buttocks.
"Oh God, Mom, look at them go! Look at Dad suck Fran's cunt!" her son hissed, his mind an independent entity of its own.
Randi's hands were also like separate entities, moving within Bob's grasp, moving over his upper torso. A last, dying protestation crossed her mind, dimly: No, no! This is wrong, all wrong, so very wrong! This can't be happening! Not my own son, not Bob, good sweet Bob ... Dear God, but my cunt is on fire!
She felt Bob's abdomen. He groaned, still not moving from the bedroom door. In front of them Gary and Fran were still in the throes of their desire, making lewd, wet noises which only intensified the unquenched passion between mother and son. Then, as if controlled by an alien force, Randi broke Bob's grip and explored down further on her own, boldly stroking the curls of pubic hair, feeling his young muscles tense beneath her scouring finger tips. Randi trembled with maddening wickedness. Oh God, the worst of sins ... my own son ... I can't do this ... but I want to ... I want to feel his prick ... I've wanted to for a long time ... yes, yes, admit it ... I've wanted my own son to fuck me!
Randi plunged both hands to Bob's stiff, throbbing penis. Without further hesitation she took the straining shaft in the clenched fists of her hands and the fluttering sensations in her breasts moved to her loins, setting them afire. Bob choked on his own gasping breath, but made no move to resist. He crushed himself against his mother, jerking his loins in her grip.
Randi felt wildly free at last. Now, as she dared to do what she so long had resisted, she realized what had been the root of her sexual problem all along. By repressing her desires for Bob, by hiding the carnal love of his growing body from even herself, she had shut off all interest in physical respite. The frustration and resentment had built and festered like an angry boil, ruining any relationship which might have grown between Gary and her, her and any other man. But the exhilarating freedom she was now overwhelmed with as she fondled her son's prick showed her the falseness of her previous ways. Most every Godfearing, Bible-spouting person would condemn her, loath her for what she was doing-but were they right? Was she not a better, more complete woman now? Oh yes!-Oh yes!
Randi sighed, the tactile sense of her hands rubbing the lovely young penis making her more excited than she had ever been before. And then, Bob suddenly turned, ramming his magnificent prick into her belly as he pressed her to him. His hand caressed one of her breasts, transmitting feeling she could understand. The warmth of his cock spread like wild-fire through her toreador pants, and then she was lowering them, pulling them down with shaking hands. His huge, mastiff-sized prick insinuated itself between the soft, nylon folds of her thin, white panties, causing her thighs and abdomen to leap, and Bob's hand snaked under the thin velour sweater to move her brassiere up. One firm, heated breast bulged out, into his waiting grasp as she pressed her pussy tightly to him.
"Goddamn!" Bob hissed. "I can't stand this! I ... want you, Mom!"
"I know! I want you too, Bobby!"
"I want ... I want to ..." he gulped, faltered.
"Yes, yes ... you want to fuck me, son!"
"God, yes!" Bob gasped breathlessly. "Where? Where, Mom?"
"Here ... on the floor next to ... Fran and Dad!"
Bob clenched Randi to him, his lips swarming; over hers with tenderness and compassion and sexual desire. She felt his teeth against hers and then she opened her mouth and his tongue rammed into her, toying with her lips and tongue and inside ridges.
She sucked on his tongue, her eyes tightly shut, and she moved her loins just far enough from the boy to slide her panties from her hips. Now they stood, pressed tightly together, their thighs nude white together, inseparable, his cock see-sawing the lust-drenched cleft between her inner legs as they kissed in increasingly maddening passion. Randi trembled with the excitement of incestuous infidelity. They slowly made their way into the room, past the still squirming bodies of her husband and her son's girl until they were beside the bed.
Bob knelt on the soft rug, then, and began to strip the soft, nylon panties from her long, slim legs, then unzipped the velour sweater. She crossed her arms luxuriously over her head and stretched, the thin sweater cresting over her out-thrust breasts. The cool air grazed her nipples, and her naked wantonness in front of her lusting son made her flesh tingle with thrill. The image of her and Bob writhing in intercourse on the floor-as they would be surely in a few short, short moments-added immensely to the forbidden sensuality, and she unhooked the brassiere and slid it off, cupping her throbbing breasts tightly as she did.
Bob moved his hands slowly up her thighs. "My-my God, Mom! I never realized you were so beautiful!" She watched him as he bent and kissed her pubic mound, his hands still pressing her sides. She swayed in the darkness, the overwhelming enrapturement of her boy tonguing her vaginal lips causing her to lose her balance.
She moaned, the thought of her feelings of Tuesday night returning dimly. It was true that she hadn't wanted Fran to marry Bob; she still didn't want that. She pressed her hands to Bob's dipping head, gripping his hair tightly. She didn't want him to marry any girl ever.
She wanted him all for herself!
Her glance caught Gary's head as it probed Fran's inner thighs, making the girl undulate in a growing spasm of delight, her own hands massaging her breasts, pinching her nipples, sliding down her ivory belly to encourage Gary's sucking between her wide-splayed legs. Good, lovely! Randi thought, dreamily. You've lost your hold on Bob, you little bitch. He's mine, now; mine alone.
Gary slid his hands under the young girl's increasingly urgent buttocks, moving them so that her crotch pressed his face tighter. He nipped gently the folds of her cunt, revealing the widening hole as she mewled and panted above. His tongue slavered incessantly, fucking her in ever increasing thrusts. Then, as he sank into her widely yawning cavern, he heard the first faint rustlings beside the bed. Somebody had joined them ... was watching!
The tiny sounds increased, and Gary heard the short, staccato unmistakable sounds of lovemaking. The groans, the intake of breath ... and then the words, "My God, Mom. I never realized you were so beautiful!"
His whole being froze into immobility. What the hell was going on? Had he-could he have-heard right? No, no, of course not. He tried to raise his head to see who had come in, but the tightly imprisoning legs of Fran only pressed him tighter, forcing his mouth back to her insatiable cunt. "OOOOHHHHHHH, don't stop, Gary. For God's sake don't stop sucking me!" Fran wailed, heaving and thrusting her buttocks hungrily up against his swirling tongue.
Gary returned to the wet, open cunt before him, new desire fanned by the thought of the couple next to them. It was one of the other kids, that was it, well what the fuck, let them watch, he was past caring really. He began to lick and suck harder, wishing he could see the couple. Was the boy sucking the girl as he was sucking Fran? Was she naked, or was her dress just raised and bunched up around her waist? His mind produced a thousand pornographic pictures as his tongue lashed out in renewed fury. Fran crooned in ecstasy. She was building to an uncontrollable eruption, a driving tempest which would soon shatter her pussy with a orgasm like she had never experienced before.
His licentious ideas were interrupted by a series of soulful gasps. It sounded like a woman dying. "OOOOOhhhhh!" came the female groan, a familiar voice which his ears refused to identify. "Oh ... God, let me down, let me down beside you."
Then came the murmur of another voice, another familiar voice. "I'm going to fuck you, Mom! I'm going to fuck you right now!"
"Yes, yes ... OHHHHHH!"
Gary's tongue froze in mid-stroke. Fran shoved her cunt forward but he paid no attention to its lubricated folds, his brain reeling with the comprehension of just who the couple was beside the bed. His own wife was begging for their son to fuck her! He couldn't believe it! He tore Fran's legs from around his neck, her pleading shriek, "Keep sucking ... keep sucking!" lost in the roaring impact of his realization.
He stared in utter shock at Randi and Bob. It couldn't be ... no, not that ... but it was happening, happening right in front of his own eyes!
Randi sank to her knees, and Bob's tongue moved up along her quivering belly, dipping momentarily into the curvature of her navel in passing, then tenderly licking one nipple, tantalizing it, his lips sucking the aureole to her gasping pleasure. The sudden hiatus in the bed's rhythmic sway told her Gary had heard them, was now aware of what was going on. But she didn't care, didn't care! In fact, she couldn't wait for him to look up from the little bitch's all too public pussy and see her and their son absorbed in wonderful, terrible carnality. A shiver of sheer vitriolic depravity traversed her body.
Bob gasped as she pressed against him. "Oh damnit!" he moaned, his words almost unintelligible as his mouth sucked her fevered breast. Then he removed his searing hold and looked up at her lovingly and said again. "I'm going to fuck you, Mom! I'm going to fuck you right now!"
The words surged through her, the sensations of desire almost sending her into orgasm then and there. Her belly churned with the pleasure building deep in her loins. She moved closer, fusing herself to Bob, and together they rolled on the carpet.
"Yes, yes ... OOOhhhhh!" she moaned. She had risen up now, straddling her son, looking down at the youthful body. And he in turn seemed to grow beneath her lascivious gaze as a flower buds beneath the warming rays of the sun. He spread his legs wide, opening his inner thighs to her lusting gaze. She barely heard Fran's cry as she demanded that her cunt be sucked more; Randi's hand reached out with frantic plundering for Bob's hot, stiff cock, all else forgotten now, all else unimportant. His penis pulled gently in her grasp, and tenderly she began to stroke it, her eyes fastened on its girth, its rigid detail! How you have grown, Bob, my love. I remember when your cock was but worm size, cradled by almost invisible balls and a diaper's fluffy whiteness. How good it looked even then. And later, as you grew and it increased in size ... yes, I remember the thrill of seeing an erection on you the first time, how I secretly yearned to fondle and kiss your beautiful manhood. And now you are a man, and it is searching and growing for your mother ... how wonderful ...
Randi bent and kissed the unseeing eyes of her son's prick, and then smiled up at him tenderly, moving her other hand along the taut muscles of his abdomen and along his heaving chest. His cock throbbed against her cheek, and kittenishly she rubbed her soft face against it, smelling it, caressing it with her fingertips, learning every ridge and curve with passionate fervor. Bob sighed and moaned, shaking his head in ecstasy, his tongue licking his dry lips.
"Oh God, Mom! Don't stop! I love your touch on my penis ... "
His vulgar words spurred Randi further, and she raised her head, breathed deeply, and then plunged his shaft deep into her mouth. She began to wiggle her hips, mewling hungrily as her son's now vibrating prick nearly reached her palette, tickling the soft folds of her throat. Her hot breath against his pubic hair made Bob ripple with delight and he began to fuck her mouth with long and bold strokes. His cock tasted like the finest ambrosia filling her salivating cavern with ever demanding pulses. Randi cupped her son's sperm-laden balls with both her hands and started to squeeze and manipulate them with innate and loving skill while her throat continued to expand and contract in her increasing desire to suck him to climax.
I want his cum ... all of it ... I want to swallow his cum and have it boil within me ... My son came to me as seed, and now he will cum again as seed ...
Christ, what were they doing?
Gary gaped at the incredible debauchery being performed before him. Goddamn them, my own wife and son, so help me God I'll kill them both for this! His mind was completely turmoiled by the sickening picture of incest, the thought of his lovely wife whimpering and purring with increased and prurient bliss as she sucked Bob's shaft. In embittered shock, sick at soul, Gary lay in anguish between Fran's wide-spread legs.
Then, suddenly, waves of guilt rippled through him. He was the cause of this! Yes, he! They were not at fault, did not deserve the wrath of his punishment. As he looked at his wife and son in their carnal abuse, he knew that the momentary need of fucking Fran was not worth the price he was now paying. The plaything begging to be suckled meant nothing to him, yet the rendering of services which he had fostered could be endless in their consequences.
"Gary ... don't stop ... please don't stop!" moaned Fran, her hands entangled in his hair as she pressed his face back to her wet, steaming cunt.
Oh God, what have I done? Gary's mind asked sickly. But even as tormented as it was, he could do nothing but allow his head to be returned to Fran's hungry, throbbing vagina again, was incapable of all else for it was too late now, too late.
Then, as though to assuage his guilt, the thought of his wife sucking Bob suddenly began to excite him, the immoral act of hers so much more terrible than his adulterous tryst with Fran as to make any anger, any revulsion, any hatred disappear. His cock hardened on the coverlet below and he slid his hands beneath Fran's buttocks, pulling her to his mouth, lost in the total sensuality of the situation.
"Oooohhhhhh!" he heard his son groan. "I'm going to cum! I'm going to spurt my load in your mouth, Mom ... "
Gary lifted his head again, the salaciousness of Bob's depraved words causing him overwhelming lust. He stared at the two of them, the sight of his son's hard shaft almost completely absorbed between his wife's ovalled lips increasing the sensation a thousand fold. Jesus Christ! he cried silently. She's really sucking him!
Randi massaged the soft resilient skin of Bob's testicles and tantilizingly used her left hand to stroke the hardened shaft as she drank in his cock rhythmically. Her tongue swirled at its apex, maddeningly flicking across the wide split of the glands on top. Bob arched his buttocks as he fucked Randi's mouth, the pink edges of her lips pulling out as he withdrew and then clinging greedily as he shoved his rod back in, further and further into her engorged throat.
Suddenly Bob groaned and removed his saliva-drenched penis from his mother's mouth. "I ... I've got to fuck you!" he moaned. He wriggled down on the rug, moving under Randi's hovering legs until the tip of his penis quivered just below the thin, red cunt lips of her widened crotch. He jerked upwards, feeling the smooth, rubbery head rub against the softness of her pubic hair, running it along the furrow of her pussy. "Fuck you, Mom ... gotta fuck you!"
Gary's eyes enlarged at the sight of his wife's wildly undulating ass as she ground her open vagina against his son's demon shaft. "Oh, yess ... yes ... yesssss!" she crooned and she reached down and with one hand parted the quivering lips of her vagina, running a forefinger exploratory inside, shivering with its impact, while with the other hand she guided her son's stone-hard cock to the hungrily awaiting hole, a mixture of desire and fear permeating her whole being. After a single moment's hesitation, she plunged her boy's cock against her cunt, expanding the resisting lips almost to tearing.
"Oh God, you're so big, Bobby, dear, your prick is so big! I ... I can't take it all ... Nooooooo!"
She struggled as Bob's shaft lurched inside her, impaling her far more than she had estimated. She was truly filled with her son, with her flesh and blood. Bob put an elbow beneath him and looked down between them at her flaying crotch as his hardened cock crushingly thrust up into her soft, pulsating vagina. Then, with one huge surge, he buried his giant cock all the way up in her tight, quivering belly.
"AAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH" Randi screamed uncontrollably. He bloated her bowels with his cock, every wrinkle insinuating against the sides of her vagina. He flicked upward once more.
"UUhhhhhhhhh!"
Again!
"Aaaaagggghhhhhh! Oh my God! Dear Jesus!" Randi wailed.
Bob flexed his elephantine hardness, raising another deep groan from within his mother, but it was a lesser sound of torture, for she was becoming accustomed to his inhuman size, and the hot passion of fucking took over. She glanced at his chest, dropping her head down so it nestled his shoulder as she kneeled over him. "Oh please, son ... please! I want you to fuck me hard! I never dreamed it could be so good!"
Bob began a slow revolving motion with his loins, grinding his penis tightly up into her naked cunt, expanding her helplessly impaled pussy with ever-increasing sawing action. He thrust upward unmercifully, in and out with battering, tearing regularity. His hand crept across her curved spinal cord and played along the crevice between her naked buttocks until his finger found the raw, puckered anus pointing ceiling-ward. He rubbed his finger there briefly, teasing her rectal opening like another hot, probing tongue.
"OOoohhhhh!" Randi gasped. Her hips began an automatic gyration as finally, Bob dipped his finger through the tight nether ring of his mother's anus and wormed it deeply into her warm, spongy interior flesh. He moved it in a circular motion, expanding the tight hole until the palm of his hand lay flat against her buttocks. Randi writhed and cried above him in the double ravishment of her genitals, and the outrageous dual defilement of her naked loins brought masochistic pleasure surging through her body.
Bob moved his other hand around and felt the soft, hair-lined folds of her pussy where it clasped wetly around his cock. He fondled the gently contracting lips, bringing further mewls of delightful sensation from his mother's mouth, and he could feel the ever-widening passage of her seething vagina milking his prick in greedy desire as he continued to plunge in and out ...
Gary moaned at the sight of his son's pistoning penis violating his wife's insanely grinding cunt, but he had little time to think further, for the room was suddenly flooded with light, and the lewd carnal scene exploded in vivid reality.
"Goddamn!" exclaimed Joe Levitt. He stood naked, his hand on the light switch, his thick cock jutting like a small, purplish log in front of him. Leaning beside him was Sally Enders, and behind them were Dean Garrett and Donna Whalen all nude. Sally grinned hotly, her eyes glittering with unquenched lust at what she saw in the bedroom.
"Jesus!" she whispered, "Isn't that the old lady down there?"
Garrett peered over her shoulder, his hand squeezing her breast. "You're right! Holy God, it's Bob and his mother!"
"Look at them go, will ya?" Garrett said wheezingly. "They're fucking like it's the end of the world!"
Gary sat up on the bed, rolling Fran aside with his sudden move. "Wha-"
All eyes were on the wildly licentious couple as they screwed abandonedly on the rug. Gary groaned, but his eyes were glued to Randi and Bob, just as the eyes of the others were, listening to the wild sucking sounds of his son's hot, pounding strokes.
"I don't believe it!" Levitt choked. He stepped over to the couple, but they were too wrapped in ecstasy, much too far gone, to know or care who else was there. Garrett joined him and then squatted down next to Randi's undulating buttocks. "She was a good fuck, all right, but never this good!" he breathed. "Look at that cunt of hers travel, just begging for cock!"
Gary wanted to scream. How Goddamn innocent he had been! Bob was not her first affair, not by any means. He should have known she had fucked others before. Levitt and Garrett ... who else? Oh my God how many others had she fucked?
With the ease of intimate knowledge, Garrett lay down beside Randi and placed one of her hands on his throbbing, hardened prick. Mindless with lust, she obediently clasped his rod and began stroking it in time with her undulating hips, her eyes tightly closed. She manipulated Garrett's cock, moaning ever increasing chants as Bob continued to thrust deep into her cunt, her buttocks waving in the obscene kneeling position. Bob's finger still jerked in her tightly, clenched rectum, and with the lights on, Gary could see her anus pucker and nip at the slender prong, ramming back on it as she swung up from the monster violating her cunt below, then surging downward, then up, then down.
Sally Enders groaned and dropped to her knees in front of Levitt, taking his waving cock between her lips as she had during the film, pulling on it as though it were a milk-giving teat. Donna slid to the floor and inserted a finger, then two, into her dripping cunt, and legs splayed wide began to masturbate, the slushing of her manipulations and her cries of ecstasy mingling with the other lovemaking noises.
Even as he watched tormentedly, Gary could not believe the nightmarish orgy. It was beyond his comprehension. Oh God! Randi, his wife, getting fucked by their son in front of carnal-excited youths! The sight of their actions and the sounds of the rampant abuses filled his brain, making it real with insanity. He had never dreamed of such debauchery, such depravity-and his sweet, puritanical wife was at the very core of it. Her wild mewls of passion were more than he could tolerate. He had to join in this lewd pillaging of the senses, take her, punish her and himself! He had to fuck her too, like the dirty little whore she was!
He leaped from the bed, holding his cock as if it were some bludgeoning weapon. "I'm going to fuck you, Randi I" he yelled. "Do you hear me? I'm going to fuck you in the asshole!"
"Ohhhhhhh!" moaned Randi, as his words penetrated her almost insensate brain. "Ohhhh yes, darling ... I want you in me, too!"
"Ummmmmm, aghhhhh!" Bob wailed in unintelligible agreement.
Just the thought of fucking Randi while his son screwed her underneath, while she handled another man's prick, stirred Gary's loins further. He could contain himself no longer. He lunged at the puckered anus nestled between his wife's soft gyrating buttocks.
Randi could feel the pit of her thighs and stomach hot and moist, and the savage force of her son's pulsating cock brutally batter her cervix, causing her to grunt uncontrollably. She heard her husband's wild cry of desire, and a tingling thrill raced through her, making her fuck down on Bob that much harder. Yes, this is what I want, both of them, both men in my life inside me, all around me, all through me at the same time! The first realization that Gary was also important to her sifted into her passion-crazed mind, and the desires built proportionately within her. Then Gary tore Bob's finger from her anus, almost ripping the walls of the tight little hole and making her squeal with piteous pain. "Aaaaagghh, God!" She clenched her buttocks together, only to have her husband stretch it again with the palms of his nervously quivering hands.
Gary opened her buttocks wider with his thumbs, probing at her already abused anus with his finger, widening and preparing it for his penetration. Randi removed her hand from Garrett's hardened, pulsating cock and turned her head. She could see Gary stroking his big, blue-veined prick. He pulled his foreskin back, exposing the huge bulbous head, and then aimed it directly for her anus. She spread open her thighs in anticipation. Behind her, Levitt had rejoined Sally Enders, and they were on the floor, fucking flagrantly, their own passionate cries forced the Whalen girl to maddening self-abuse on the carpet. Garrett got to his feet now, and ran to Donna, tearing her fingers aside, and then driving his cock into her with furious intensity. She screamed frantically as his giant penis ripped at the walls of her cunt, and then mewled with delight. Randi turned her attention back to the pressing need of Gary, and she reached between her legs and guided his stiff cock to the tight puckered entrance of her rectum.
Then she held her breath as the smooth, rubbery head popped suddenly through the tight elastic ring, and Gary caught hold of her shoulders and shoved the entire length of his great weapon up to its hair-covered hilt, his balls rapping against the backs of her thighs. She cried out, first in pain, then in utter abandoned ecstasy, as she felt both cocks buck and jerk inside her, with only the thin membrane between the parallel shafts. She groaned aloud like some animal bitch in heat as both husband and son skewered her like a helpless ragdoll between their hardened, rampaging rods of flesh. Then, as if on a prearranged signal, they began to fuck into her in unison. Gary withdrew slowly, and Bob did the same until only the heads of their cocks remained inside her-Gary's held only by her ravaged sphincter ring and Bob's by the pink-rimmed lips of her insatiable cunt. Then they rammed simultaneously, driving deeply up inside her, their stiffness pushing against each other along the parallel channels of her cunt and rectal passages.
"More!" she was able to groan. "I want more!"
They gave her more, fucking her with constant rhythm that made her think of waves crashing upon a beach. Again and again and again they pounded against the pink island of flesh between her open orifices. She didn't want it to end, ever, not ever ...
"We're together!" she panted, grunting under the double strokes of sheer joy. "We're really together for the first time. Oh ... I love ... you ... both ... yes ... yes ... a family. We're ... a family ... at last!" Randi knew her mouth was open, that she was saying what she felt deep in her heart, but at the same time the rolling thunder of sensation made her disembodied, entirely free.
Fran, moaning and uncontrollable as she watched the trio writhing next to her, scampered off the sheets and squatted her own twitching pussy over her fianc�e's gaping, passion-twisted mouth. Her cunt hairs tickled Randi's nose as the girl settled down on Bob's curled tongue, and a small part of Randi's mind couldn't help but think of the night Fran had tried to make lesbian love to her. She stared at Bob's wet darting tongue lapping Fran's soft, parted cunt lips, heard the girl cry out with delight as she heatedly gave vent to the rising passions of her body. Randi looked up momentarily, seeing Fran's thin fingers busily toying with her full, ripe breasts, rolling and squeezing the hardened nipples in a way only a woman can. Randi began to tremble with even more fire from the strange forbiddenness she was part of; no, was truly the heart of. Her upbringing had never even intimated this sort of thing, let alone the vile, degrading but yet somehow perfectly proper acts she was already performing with her husband and son; but her being so filled with torment, and her overpowering lust made her prey to the alien love. She bent forward, her hips still not missing a stroke of the powerful fucking cocks in her cunt and asshole, and cheek to cheek, she added her mouth and tongue to those of her son's.
Fran thrust forward, her soft, curling fleece brushing warmly against Randi's cheeks. "Oh, yes, Randi darling!" she wailed, realizing what was happening. "Oh yes, yes, yessssss!"
Randi pressed her lips closer, kissing and licking Fran's seething furrow from the bottom to the top, kissing simultaneously Bob's frantic mouth as she moved around the girl's sensitive labia. Then she licked upwards, parting the cleft and her tongue lashed out at the exposed, erect clitoris. Fran began to rock explosively against the two invading tongues, and she clutched her breasts in desperation. She gasped for air, ever surging against Bob's and Randi's hungry, searching mouths. Randi licked every inch of the girl's groin, even her nose was buried in the slippery, eel-like pussy, and she was immersed in the depraved lovemaking of Fran's steaming, throbbing cunt.
"Now ... Dad ... Oh now, I'm going ... to ... cummmmmmm!" Randi heard her son say from beneath her, and then the rhythm of their fucking increased, and she had to grit her teeth to keep from screaming out her own building agony. Fran surged closer, enveloping her face again, her wet pussy exuding a delicious odor. Gary and Bob drove faster, faster, faster, and Randi felt her son's cock lurch against her womb and his nozzle begin to spew forth an endless torrent of white boiling seed.
"OHHHHHHHH, I'm ... cummmmminnnggg!" he howled.
Gary tore every last inch of his prick into her bowels, panting madly. "Fuck me!" he yelled. "Fuck back, Randi! Fuck back!" His body began to convulse as he clawed her waist with his fingers, and she rammed against him in one final fury until she felt the first spluttering squirts of his sperm shoot deep into her rectum. Still her son came in her vagina, adding his bursting dam of hot liquid fire, and she was being filled, slowly filled; ever increasingly the walls of her whole belly were inundated by the thick flood of cum.
Fran howled like a wounded predator, and then shuddered violently as her own pinnacle of orgasm began to tear through her. She toppled onto her back, her hips jerking wildly, knees pulled to her bosom.
Oh Christ, Oh heaven above, I want to cum! Now, with my boy and my husband still inside me ... yes ... we'll all cum together ... as a family ...
Then Randi cried out: "Yes! Yessssss ... I'm cummmmmmmmmmiinnnnnggggggg!" She yelled again, her orgasm enveloping the very core of her being, and she heaved and bucked as the last spurts of semen filled both her cunt and anus. The force was unbelievable! Never had she thought there was so much pleasure from sex, from anything on earth! Her brain reeled and her thighs trembling as the sensual climax churned through her ...
She fell forward finally, a long time later, half conscious, upon her son's still heaving chest.
Bob and Gary stayed inside her, their cocks slowly softening little by little. Dreamily, she felt their sperm ooze out of her orifices and dribble down her legs front and back to pool beneath her knees. A long time later, they withdrew gently, lovingly, together.
"Jesus!" Gary murmured, falling on his back, exhausted.
"You were wonderful, Mom!" Bob said in a whisper, stroking her hair affectionately.
Later, after the others had reached their climaxes, and they had all rested, they began anew. Throughout the long, long night, they performed every conceivable perverted and lewd act by twos and threes and fours and more, all morals and ethics cast aside as the most base and sordid animal instincts overtook them. Toward sunrise, all of them drifted into sleep, and Randi never felt Gary's strong arms pick her up and lovingly carry her to their room and lay her on the clean, soft bed.
Chapter 9
Randi smiled at the two-page letter and placed it carefully, tenderly on her writing desk. She leaned back in the chair and sighed in a relieved way, her eyes shining happily.
Gary entered from the kitchen and crossed to her, placing one of the two gin-and-tonics he carried on the desk before her. He patted her fondly on the arm. "What's Bob say, dear?" he asked.
She looked up at him, smiling. "He likes his new classes. He's taking some kind of engineering course from a Professor Daniels which he seems to think is very interesting."
"That all?"
"No. He wrote that he's met a new girl. A Lynn Majors. Walked her to class yesterday."
Gary nodded. "Good. In school again for less than a week and moving right in on the quail."
"You ... don't mind not seeing Fran again, then?"
Gary moved his hand over and rubbed the palm gently over Randi's jutting breast. "Not one bit. She was a little too much for Bob, I thought."
"And for you?"
"Well, let's say she could take all I could give," he replied, chuckling. "No, I'm glad they broke their engagement. Bob should fool around more before he settles down, and Fran certainly wasn't one for anything steady."
"They found out in time, thank God."
Randi pressed against Gary's wandering fingers, then turned and stood up. She nestled against his chest warmly. "We found each other, too, Gary, for the first time ... in full."
"We have, haven't we, darling?"
"Yes."
Gary kissed her passionately. "Have I ever told you that I'm married to the best piece of tail in the world?"
"Really?" She lowered her hands and fondled the crotch of his pants lightly. "And ... do you love her too?"
"More than anything," he whispered fervently.
Randi hummed to herself with pleasure. Everything had worked out so well since the night-long orgy several weeks ago. She and Gary had come together as man and wife, and their sex was now wild and abandoned and fun for both. She had stopped seeing her son's friends, Garrett and Levitt, their sadistic hold over her ruptured for good. Besides, she didn't need them any more, not with the love her family could provide.
Fran, too, was gone for good, her engagement to Bob shattered as her true nature was revealed to him that same night. The special possessive love a wife-a mother-must receive from her man, must then give in return, was not within the girl's capacity; and Bob, once his eyes were open, was quick to realize this fact. He had stopped thinking of her as anything more permanent than a choice piece of ass.
Randi relaxed against her husband, raising her skirt to her waist with a casual ease to allow Garry room to caress her moist, warm cunt. The erotic fires Bob had flamed within her still burned, had not even begun to smolder, and her puritanical past was burnt forever. The delicious enjoyment of Bob's final night at home had let her discover the joys of limited sexual appetite, and she had been happy these past days with just Gary. One man and one woman. Yet she also realized she had enjoyed the pleasures of variety too well to go without again.
"Honey," she whispered as they moved toward the waiting bedroom, "Honey, I can't wait for our boy to come home again, can you?"
Gary grinned at his wife. "I think the summer vacation will be relaxing to all of us," he said. "And we'll all be together, as a family, again."
