Pretty, red-haired Sherry Huntington was probably the proudest eighteen year old in the State of Maryland the day she became the bride of Marc Thomas English, a mere two weeks after his graduation from Annapolis in June. Every girl in Baltimore's Naval community was envious of her that day, for Marc was just about the handsomest new young officer in the United States Navy.
The wedding, a large garden-type affair, had taken place at the home of her parents in suburban Briarcliff, and had been one of the biggest social events of that summer. But now, just six weeks later, the dream was coming to an end - or at least a very long postponement -since tomorrow morning, Second Lieutenant Marc T. English was shipping out for six months duty in Southeast Asia. Vietnam!
Still, even though she was deeply saddened at the prospect of their separation, Sherry was determined to make her young husband's last night at home one to remember. Under no circumstances did she want him to think she couldn't take it - particularly after she had assured him, even before they were married, that she understood that lengthy separations went part-and-parcel with a service careen After all, she reasoned, it was what Marc wanted, and Marc was what she wanted -- more than anything else in the world!
Laying the wedding album aside on the coffee table, the young bride rose from the couch, walked into the bedroom and snapped on the light. Even though it was only early afternoon, the sky outside was a somber, unseasonably overcast gray. Almost primly, she stooped and brought a neatly wrapped package out from under the bed and began to unwrap it with trembling fingers. It was the nightgown she had bought for this night, and this night alone, at one of the most exclusive womens' apparel shops in Baltimore. Not that the nightie she'd worn on her wedding night hadn't pleased her handsome young husband -- it was very pretty even, but then, maybe that's why she didn't want to wear it this of all nights. Knowing that Marc would be worrying about her all the time he was overseas, she had decided to leave him with the impression that he was leaving a woman behind -- not some little girl who couldn't handle herself. To this end, she had selected the sexiest, sheerest pegnoir she could find, and a black one at that!
Taking the delicate peignoir from its box, Sherry held it up experimentally before her and studied her reflection in the mirror over the dresser. She was still wearing her usual housewife's uniform of Levi's and sweatshirt, but even so she could make a pretty fair guess as to how the risque negligee might affect her passionate young husband. It was positively wicked-looking! Yet, the .color and style did much to c ompliment the nearly-opaque whiteness of her complexion. Black always seemed to bring out the soft red highlights of her auburn hair better than any other color. 'Baby, your skin is as white as fresh fallen snow -- but softer" Marc had told her on their wedding night - the first time he had ever seen her completely naked. And, with that remembrance, she felt tears begin to well in her beautiful china-blue eyes. Get ahold of yourself, girl! she chided herself. Then, turning quickly on her heels, she draped the nightgown across the foot of the bed and began to undress for her bath ...
"What the hell are you so worried about, Marc?" the young blonde teased the naked virile sailor lying next to her on the bed.
"Aw, shit, Audrey -- you know!" he replied, staring blankly at the ceiling, one arm crooked behind his neck, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
Idly, as she lay on her side facing him, Audrey Henderson propped herself up on one elbow and began to fondle his now deflated penis. It was still wet from the recent lovemaking. "Yeah, I know," she said softly.
An ash fell from the cigarette, and reflexively Marc flicked it off with his fingers. "I mean, well... it's not so bad that she'll be playing around with other men--".
"Fucking," Audrey corrected. "It's a lot more impersonal than playing around . . . and a lot more profitable!"
"Okay, fucking. But listen, you watch out for her, you hear? She was a cherry when I married her, and now . . . well, she's still not exactly what you'd call crazy about it!"
"Hey, don't sweat it, baby! I told you I'd bring her around, didn't I? That's what The Club is all about!"
Pretending not to notice as the lovely ash-blonde housewife gave his generous penis a milking squeeze, Marc cleared his throat; "But you don't understand, Audrey. I--"
"Don't I?"
She felt the glistening length of his penis begin to stiffen ponderously in her hand. "Listen, Marc, Ron was just as worried as you are, and it's worked out fine for us. It's a tough world, baby. You want to get ahead, you've got to give a little. Ron's a full Lieutenant now, after only six years in the Navy. The Club is all service people -- Navy and Marine -- with careers of their own to worry about."
"I--It's not The Club I'm worried about. I'm an adult, and I don't see why Sherry should have to sit around home all the time while I'm out balling some chick in Singapore, or some other member's ol* lady in San Diego--"
"Right on!"
"But, Audrey, I don't want you trying to get her to work at the 'Little Mexico', or have her out picking up guys on the street!"
Skillfully, the blonde temptress brought Marc to full erection with her knowingly stroking fingers. Her -beautiful, deceptively angelic, face beamed at him knowingly, her eyes never straying from his swollen cock. "Yeah, sure, Marc. I understand."
"And go slow! Let her think it's her own idea. If she ever found out that I--"
"Shhh!" Audrey admonished, leaning forward so that her lips brushed the curly dark hah" of his muscular chest. "You just leave everything to 'Little Audrey'!"
Slowly, lingeringly, her hand never ceasing its voluptuous strokings of his glistening white penis, Audrey traced a trail of wet kisses down his chest, paused 'momentarily to probe- her tongue gently into his navel, then onward, skipping lightly over his rigid abdomen until her breath came warm and heavy above the head of his cock. With practiced fingers, she squeezed a drop of sticky pre-coital moisture to the surface and wiped the precious pearl away with the tip of her darting pink tongue. "Just think, Marc," she breathed lustily, "a month from now, Sherry will probably be doing this for some big fat Admiral and earning you a promotion in the process!"
With a grunt that showed the secret appeal such a thought held for him, Marc hurriedly crushed his cigarette out in the ashtray on the night table and entwined his thick fingers in Audrey's flaxen hair, lewdly forcing her mouth down onto his hotly seeping cock.
"Just shut up and suck me, you little bitch!" he gasped as lust overtook him for the second time that afternoon
The "Little Mexico" theater on Belcher Street was closed, as it had been ever since the shooting three days before. It wasn't the first time that that kind of thing had happened, but as far as Darryl Haag, the owner/manager of the "Little Mexico", was concerned, it had damn well better be the last! One of the roughest burlesque houses in a city known for rough burlesque houses, the "Little Mexico" was having a tough enough time as it was, just trying to keep its doors open.
As usual, it was a jealous boy friend, drunk and full of self-pity, barging into the backstage dressing room with a loaded pistol and firing point-blank at anything that moved. Luckily, the crazy bastard had only shot Darlene in the leg -- a murder would have closed the place down a lot longer than the customary two of three weeks.
It would be a long time before Darlene Thompson would strip again, but as far as Darryl Haag was concerned, it was good riddance to bad rubbish - she'd been nothing but a pain-in-the-ass since she'd started working for him. As a matter of fact, all of these single bitches were a pain-in-the-ass. The married ones were hardly any trouble at all -- especially the ones with husbands in the service, like Audrey Henderson. All business., she was. Money and sex were the only things that seemed to hold any interest for her.
The club-footed fat man pivoted suddenly on his heels, leaving the workmen in the dressing room to finish plastering the bullet holes without his supervision, and waddled on surprisingly spindly legs to his backstage office. It was a grotesque sight, watching the fat man, all three-hundred and thirteen pounds of him, swivel-hipping across the stage, and the workmen, including those who were painting the interior of the theater in anticipation of its reopening, had all they could do to keep from laughing out loud.
Mindless of his audience, a smile played across Darryl Haag's thick pink babyish lips as his mind began to formulate a plan -- As long as I'm going to give this place a face-lift, he mused, / might as well see if I can put a few new faces into the show itself. ., And I know just who to get to run my little recruiting campaign, too!
Like a teetering bowling pin, Darryl wheeled through the door to his office, his hips scraping the door frame on either side. Frantically, he snatched the telephone receiver up in his sweaty hand and began to dial Audrey Henderson's number from memory ...
It was nearly six in the evening when Marc let himself into his own apartment, and if Audrey's phone hadn't started ringing a while ago, it probably would've been seven or eight before he'd gotten home.
Sheepishly, he hung his coat up in the hall closet before entering the living room, "Sherry," he called, "I'm home."
"I'm in the bedroom, Marc," she returned cheerfully. "But don't come in yet, I'm not ready!"
Ready? he shrugged. Then, turning, he crossed to the small, but amply-stocked wall bar and poured himself a Marc English Special -- six fingers of gin in a water tumbler.
"What took you so long?" Sherry sang from behind the bedroom door.
"Oh, you know the Navy Department, honey," he lied. "More overseas shots."
Draining half the Special in one gulp, Marc splashed another finger of gin into the glass and moved to the couch, leaving the bottle out and unstoppered. As much as he hated to admit it, he -- Marc The Man English -- was feeling a little guilty about leaving his pretty bride of six weeks alone all afternoon on his last day before shipping out. It wasn't that he didn't love her, far from it, in fact. In his own peculiar way, he loved her very much -- not .enough to put her ahead of his career, maybe -- but as much as he knew how. He was beginning to feel guilty because the mere thought of betraying Sherry's near childlike trust in him was giving him a hard-on! He didn't know why, and like any rational man-of-the-streets, he supposed why really wasn't that important. Right now, he was more concerned with how. Hopefully, Audrey would use a little more tact with Sherry than she had with him when she'd come over that afternoon two weeks before, while Sherry was visiting her cousin April, and good-neighborly invited herself in for a cup of coffee and a fuck!
Marc chuckled at the remembrance of how the brazen ash-blonde had told him she'd seen him in the elevator a few times, and wondered if he wouldn't enjoy a nice piece of ass! Man! She had to be one of the wildest young chicks he'd ever known. She was only twenty-two - a year younger than himself -- but she'd taught him things about sex he'd never even dreamed of. And, ever since that eventful afternoon two weeks before, he'd been sneaking over to see her every chance he got.
But now, he was about to go off half-way around the world and leave Audrey in charge of the seduction of his pretty young bride into The Club!
The Club. It had no name, though rumors of its existence were fairly widespread throughout the country's Navy bases. Again, he had learned of it through Audrey -- who, along with her husband, Ron -- had been members for almost two years. It was made up entirely of career officers and their wives, and dedicated to a single, simple principle: If you can't be with the one you love, then fuck the one you're with!
In actual fact, The Club made sense. Apart from certain obscure moral considerations, there was no earthly logic in "doing without" during those long separations, and keeping it all within the "family" -- the military establishment -- greatly reduced the risk of discovery and the obvious emotional implications inherent in the conventional type of "affair" since, for one thing, most members were seldom stationed in one place long enough to see that type of relationship to fruition.
There were no meetings as such. Each base had its Registrar -- usually one of the wives -- with whom each new, or recently transferred member filed his or her name. The Registrar merely arranged "dates" between the horny officers and lonely wives. In addition to her extracurricular activities as a stripper, Audrey Henderson was Registrar for the entire Baltimore Naval District. And the five dollar service charge she picked from the male half of each date she arranged added a nice little bonus to an already healthy income she earned as a stripper and part-time prostitute at the "Little Mexico." And, since each Registrar was more or less free to schedule incoming calls to fit her own s chedule, there wasn't even much imposition involved. Besides which, giving her first crack at all the new cocks!
"Just a couple more minutes, Marc, darling. I'm almost ready!" Sherry called from the bedroom.
With excitedly trembling fingers, Sherry applied the finishing touches to her makeup. She was pleased, very pleased, at how much more mature she looked in the bizarre outfit that consisted of the black peignoir, high-heeled white "mules," dangling rhinestone earrings, and about a pound and a half of green eyeshadow, mascara, and white lipstick. She wondered, with an inexplicable thrill, if this wasn't the way whores -- real working whores -- felt as they prepared themselves for the evening. Secretly, desperately, she could only hope that maybe tonight would be the night.. . the night she would reach a climax.
Sherry supposed, with uncharacteristically mature insight, that her failure to have an orgasm in six weeks of marriage was really nobody's fault, least of all, Marc's. He was , patient with her to a surprising degree, and despite his powerful build, he was a gentle and considerate lover. Yet, subconsciously, she couldn't help wondering if he wasn't perhaps a little too gentle and considerate. But then, who was she to question his obvious knowledgeability in such matters? Her staunchly Protestant, middle-class parents hadn't even let her go out on dates until two years before -- when she'd turned sixteen. And before that, it had been all choir practice and girl scout picnics! In fact, beyond the stolen kiss and the occasional fondling of her more than ample breasts tfirough her sweater or blouse, no one had even touched her -- until Marc.
It had been Easter weekend, a little over a year ago, that she had gone down to Annapolis with her cousin April to see April's jcurrent boy friend, Roy Tufts. Sherry was seventeen then, a senior at Kennedy High School in Briarcliff, and the .trip had an edge of excitement to it that made for the sort of adventure that girls of that age find irresistibly romantic -- namely, Roy Tufts was black, and, despite his.obvious virtues as a Midshipman, April, six months older than Sherry, had been forbidden to see him by her equally strict parents.
Marc was Roy's roommate at the time, and for Sherry, it had been love at first sight of the tall, dark-haired upperclassman.
At the memory of how she had literally been swept off her feet by the charming Navy officer-to-be, Sherry felt a wanton tremor of excitement curl upward between her nylon-sheathed legs. She liked sex, she really did, but it was virtually impossible for her not to show her disappointment at her failure to reach a climax. And worst of all, she felt guilty because her young husband blamed himself for what she felt was probably her own problem. Tonight for sure, though! she promised the reflection smiling voluptuously back at her from the mirror over the dresser. For Marc's sake. . . and mine!
She stood then, admiring her handiwork -- the way the filmy black negligee caressed her smooth milk-white flesh, still moist from the bath. Her hands on her hips, she sucked in her breath slightly, and blew her reflection a kiss over her shoulder. Almost narcissistically, she admired the hundred-and-eight pounds of breathtaking pale loveliness stretched smoothly, almost willowy, over her diminutive five-foot-three inch frame. About the only thing she felt was in the least way grotesque about her appearance was the size of her breasts .. . but then, Marc had never had any complaints there! Fully the size of ripened cantaloupes, they rode high and invitingly proud on her chest, youthfully firm and alluring with her puffy strawberry nipples perked up and straining against the transparent material of the black peignoir.
Sherry turned slowly, arching her back and glancing over her shoulder to see her lithe buttocks jutting toward the mirror. Then. teasingly, she inched the diaphanous black gauze up slowly until her softly rounded white ass-cheeks peeked out naked below the hemline.
"The sight of their deep-dimpled loveliness triggered yet another tremor of lewd excitement up between her legs. Marc loved that ass!
"What are you doing in there?" came her husband's voice from the living room. .
"Oh, nothing, Marc," she called, her reverie broken. "You can come in now . .. darling!"
"What's wrong, Darryl? Got another hard-on?" Audrey breathed teasingly into the telephone. Then, "... Oh, strictly business, huh? ... Yeah, okay, I'll be right over!"
Cradling the receiver, she stood and began to dress rhen a whirring sound suddenly caught her attention.
"Whoops! Almost forgot!" she admonished herself reaching beneath the bed to snap off the tape recorder.
Chapter Two
Even as he stood there in the doorway, mouth agape, Marc English couldn't get over how much his young bride resembled the actress, Mary Tyler Moore. Yet, he had to fight the urge to drag her into the bathroom and scrub the whorishly applied makeup from her innocent face. At once, she looked alluring .. . and thrillingly cheap. He'd never seen her like this before, and as his penis began to thicken pulsingly beneath his shorts, he knew that the character of their lovemaking this night was going to be somehow different.
In the past, his lovemaking with her had been more or less a trial and error thing, not much more pleasurable for him than for her, because of the misguided belief on his part that she wouldn't understand the almost savage style of sex that he had learned in the Washington D.C. streets of his youth. Not that women didn't respond to his fucking, but just that Sherry was so completely different from all the other girls in his life that he had tried a completely different approach with her. She seemed so ... so fragile, that he was afraid of physically hurting her, and the fumbling, awkward results had contributed largely to the feelings of inadequacy on his part that had set him up psychologically for his eventual seduction by Audrey Henderson.
"Well?" Sherry mocked. "Are you going to stand there all night with your mouth open, or what?"
Despite his afternoon of debauchery with Audrey Henderson, Marc knew that he was about to give his provocatively dressed young wife the fucking of her eighteen year old life. Closing the distance that separated them in three long strides, he took Sherry in his arms and crushed her luscious white body tightly against his own. He kissed her passionately, wetly, his tongue probing deep between her white-painted lips, and felt her melt up against his chest in willing erotic response. He could feel the points of her nipples spiking against his chest, even through the material of their clothing, and knew instinctively that she was already wet between her legs from the self-induced excitement of preparing herself in such a whorish manner for him.
Wordlessly, they eased down on the edge of the bed together and leaned back on the mattress without breaking the soul kiss that bound them. Then, in a flurry of fingers, they were undressing each other until both reclined nakedly, his uniform and her negligee lying in a heap at the foot of the bed.
"Oh, Marc... Marc!" Sherry breathed passionately up into his mouth as her hand groped between her husband's legs for his now fully erect cock. "Make it good, Marc! Make it last Marc!"
The young lieutenant's hands were roving hungrily, greedily over her vulnerable nakedness, cupping and squeezing the fullness of her breasts and searching with lewd intent up between her trembling legs for the desire-moistened opening of her cunt. Then, unceremoniously, he thrust his extended middle finger deep into her passion-slick pussy-flesh.
"Oh God, yes, Marc! Like that!" And she flinched in spite of herself at her hotly aroused husband's brutal attack.
Quickly now, the young officer rolled his rangy form on top of his squirming yet yielding young wife. With his middle finger still sawing viciously up into her dilating vagina and his thumb raking across her distended little clitoris, he raised his free hand to one naked breast and lowered his head to the other. Cruelly, he squeezed and sucked at the marshmallow soft mounds, bringing excited mewls of pleasure gurgling in her throat.
"Y-Yess! Marc?, yes! Bite them! Hurt me!"
She'd never felt like this before -- never been taken with such unquestionable authority -- and it made her weak with excitement.
"Hurt me, Marc!" she cried out in her delirium, as she continued to jack him off softly with her hand. "Treat me like . .. like a whore!"
His finger left her pussy then, even as he raised his lips to kiss her once again. Then, she felt the lips of her cunt being spread wide apart, below, with thumb and forefinger, as he laid the tender pink flesh of her cuntal interior open for his assault.
"Ready, baby?" he choked above her, passionately. "Are you ready for the fucking of your life?"
"Oh, yes! Oh, God, yesssss!"
He entered her quickly, brutally, and to the flinch-causing hilt. While she, possessed by now with a hunger that surprised even herself, took every lust-stiffened inch of his long hard cock with clasping eagerness. Oh, God! she screamed silently, I--It's almost as if he were raping me!
Marc rocked above her wide-splayed loins, thrusting in and out with short, smooth strokes, and Sherry's body began to react of its own volition, surrendering completely to the wanton thrills that surged incessantly through her naked flesh. The knowledge of her complete surrender, impressed upon her psyche, was bringing even greater thrills of excitement to her helpless belly as she became aware of his deeper, more forceful thrusts into her now fully aroused vagina.
Her whole body responded to him with a squirming wantonness that snapped his lust-crazed mind. Dropping his head again, the young Navy officer's mouth sought her lips and he kissed her feverishly, thrusting his tongue into her mouth to be sucked. Then, with a wild depravity of her own, Sherry began to grind her smoothly flaring hips up to meet him in a lewd and rhythmic cadence to his plunging rod of flesh.
Her face was contorted with the intensity of her passion, her eyes were glassy, her nostrils flared, her breath coming in short, jerky pants, as she pounded her pelvis against him in the age-old ritual of sex. Then, suddenly, in her rapturous state of mind, she realized what she had been denying herself... and Marc. It was magnificent. ,. lying there on her back with her pussy stuffed almost painfully with her man's huge blood-hardened member. // only she had known!
Now, moving with him, sliding her eager young vagina madly up and down on his throbbing hot shaft, she found the intensity of her sensations multiplied, and she wanted to give back as much as she was receiving. Oh, dear God... I--It's utterly fantastic! L--Let it go on . . . forever. . . his big cock. . . fucking me. . . fucking me ... fucking .,. FUCKING!
Damn, she's a real firecracker! Marc thought, as he felt the building sensuousness of his red-haired wife's body responding so fervently beneath him, and realized that there was yet one thing to do to her!
He reached down, smoothing his hand over her whitely undulating buttocks, his finger searching out the defenseless little ring of her anus. Finding it, he dipped his outstretched middle finger into the viscous cuntal moisture running down from the cock-stretched opening above, and then moved his finger back to her puckered nether entrance. He felt her breath, sharply indrawn, at the shock of his finger pressuring against the tiny circle of her anus. "Now you're really going to freak out, baby!" he promised, breaking their passionate kiss. "I'm going to shove my finger right up your ass!"
Sherry had already guessed his intentions, but his words were a new and further excitement to her flagrantly mounting passions. Yes! Why not that too. Anything. Everything! She wanted to be hurt... to feel used . .. until she begged for mercy!
"Yesssss! Oh, God, go ahead! I want you to do it! All the way, as far as it will go!"
She was overcome with delicious ecstasy as Marc pushed his middle finger hard up into her defenseless rectum, forcing it roughly into the soft sponginess to the palm of his hand.
Sherry was in an agony of pleasure-pain. It hurt, oh Lord, how it hurt... but there was an almost simultaneous deep sexual thrill as well... a heightened, sharper edge to her feelings of ravishment. Slowly then, she began to skewer herself down on his sadistically tormenting middle finger -- straining at the same time to absorb even more of the thickly pulsing penis into her innermost depths.
Minutes passed, long, delectably sensuous minutes, and Marc knew that he was finally, completely, in control of her. Because it was the third fuck for him that day, he felt like he could go on indefinitely. And more, he knew that tonight she would cum!
Sherry knew it too, even as she matched her sailor-husband's every hunching stroke with one of her own. Her heels dug into the small of his back as the combined thrills of the double assault she was receiving below turned her insides into a quivering mass of lust-fired submission. It felt good! It felt... wicked!
Her mind became a babble of unpented sexual fantasy that her religious upbringing had forced her to keep suppressed for so long. She pretended she was a whore ... a real working whore, and felt a respondent increased swelling in her already painfully distended clitoris. Then, intuitively, she knew that Marc would like to hear what she was thinking.
"Pretend I'm a whore, Marc. The lowest slut in creation!" she panted heavily.
A sudden quickening of the tempo of his cock and finger driving up into her widespread loins served to tell her that her handsome young husband was intrigued with the idea.
"Who do you wish I was right now, Marc?" she continued. "A movie star? Raquel Welch? My cousin April? You always said she was pretty. How about that blonde girl next door, Audrey Henderson?"
"You!" he grunted. "I wish you were you, only - "
"Yes, go on, Marc!"
"Only I wish / was someone else!"
"Who, Marc?" she panted out in her delirium. "Who would you like to see fucking me?"
Fucking! his mind screamed, as he continued to saw into her with a near-maniacal fury. He'd never heard her use that word before, and it excited him to hear it tumbling from those soft innocent lips.
"Who Marc?" she persisted, as the idea began to send butterflies shooting through her stomach. .
Who? he panicked. Then, with a sudden slowing of tempo as he fought for breath, he felt a shudder of excitement churn in his balls. "You know that fat guy that comes over sometimes and sits by the pool talking to Audrey Henderson?" he blurted.
Know him! Christ, she'd almost vomited the first time she had seen him, and she could remember staring at him in horrified fascination from the privacy of their third-story balcony, for a good twenty minutes. And then that day last week, when she had finally gotten up the nerve to wear that skimpy little apricot-colored bikini that Marc had bought for her on their honeymoon -- and that fat man, Darwin, or Darryl, or whatever Audrey had called him, came waddling into the courtyard and plopped his big hulk down on a pool chair and nearly broke it. And there she was, Sherry English, nearly naked as she lay drying herself on a towel on the far side of the apartment house pool. Only this time, it was he who had stared at her ... all the time he was talking to Audrey . .. his beady little eyes leering out at her near-nakedness from the folds of fat on what had probably been his face before it had become a balloon! Yes, she knew him, or at any rate she knew who he was, and the thought of making love to such an abhorrent being was positively nauseating .. . but strangely very exciting!
"Oh, yes, Marc! What would you like him to do to me?"
His cock flexed deeply up inside of her. "Sexy things . .. dirty things," he growled lustfully.
"MMmmmmyyyyeeessssss!" she blurted out, surprising even herself with the degree of response the bizarre fantasy was creating within her. But then, before she had a chance to build upon the piquant daydream, it was there for her!
Sherry tossed her head wildly, her body jerking convulsively up against Marc's, as wave after mind-shattering wave of abdominal spasms accompanied by the spiraling rise to the heights of her orgasmic release. For a moment, everything seemed to stop -- there was no reality but for the ecstasy of that sensual moment, as she came full circle to the fulfillment she'd sought. She was finally, undeniably, a woman! Then, somewhere in another world, she heard herself, as she was transported into space, her voice unreal, screaming out her joy -- "AAAAaaaauuuggghhhh! OOOooohhhhh, My God! Oh, Marc, Marc, I-I'm cuummmmiinnnggggggg!"
And Marc, jackhammering his pounding cock into her wetly clasping vagina, felt the violent tremors in her lithe young body, knowing that she was coming to her release at the same time as his own began deep in his loins, at the very roots of his cock. His semen began hosing through him in uninterrupted squirts of thick viscosity, jetting from the lust-bloated head of his penis to reach her farthest, most secret inner depths, overflowing her cunt and running back out to pool lewdly between her buttocks on the bed.
"Oh God! There!" he grunted, as he felt it pumping through him. "You've had it, baby! Daddy finally fucked you to a stand-still!"
He collapsed on top of her, his massive penis still jerking as it ejaculated the final heated drops of his sperm deep up into her womb.
It had been a delightful release ... and Sherry knew that she would never be the same again. She felt troubled in that release, however, by the prospect of having to go many months without it, now that she realized what fucking could really be like! Yes, God, that was the only word for it, and she was glad she'd said it right out loud . .. fucking!
Marc lay beside her on his back, his arm cradling his young wife's shoulders, as he explained -- almost as if nothing had even happened -- that he had talked to Audrey Henderson that morning as he was leaving for the base, and that she'd insisted on giving Sherry a lift home from work mornings so she wouldn't have to sit out in the cold waiting for the bus...
Chapter Three
The muted sounds of soft, seductive music could be heard coming from the front of the theater as "Little Audrey" Henderson carefully arranged her costumes in the order in which she would be wearing them during the reopening of the "Little Mexico," beginning with the shoes and gowns, and ending with the "G" strings which were really nothing more than mere wisps designed to tire the imagination.
Finished, the brown-eyed blonde glanced around at the three other girls standing nearby. 'Tokyo Rose", the twenty-one year old, miniscule oriental girl who spoke with a decided accent and claimed to be from Nagasaki, stood nearest to Audrey. Tokyo Rose really turned on most of the men in the audience -- especially the big ones -- but the Japanese bit was just an act, Audrey knew, because the girl's real name was Jenny Ching, and she had been born and raised in Long Beach, California, and like Audrey, had a husband in the Navy.
Sandy Bradford, known as "Bunny Hump", and Cheryl Potter, or "Lana Lix" - brunette cousins from Dallas, Texas, and as phoney as their "stage" names -- had tossed their outfits haphazardly all around the room. Once the show got rolling, they would be in a mild state of panic trying to remember what they were supposed to wear next, and Darryl would probably have to ad-lib until they made their appearance on stage.
"Good fucking grief-san! Would you look at this number!" Tokyo Rose exclaimed in good humor as she held up a pair of transparent black bikini panties consisting of nothing more than a four inch patch of cloth in front, and a six inch patch of cloth in back, held together with tiny gold chains.
Bunny had stripped and had just finished struggling into her first garment. It was a nightgown made of silver acetate, fashioned in such a manner that it looked as if she were wearing a choir'robe -- only this "choir robe" had twin holes of large diameter where the breasts were, leaving them exposed in all their full sleek nakedness, the pinkish, oversized nipples brilliantly contrasted against the alabaster whiteness of her breast-flesh. She paused, staring at her own dark-haired presence in the mirror, then spun around to face Audrey.
"I've really gotta hand it to you Darryl," she said "He's really knocking himself out on this reopening thing."
"Yeah," Tokyo quipped behind her, wriggling her lush golden hips into the skimpy black panties. "Making it look like a fashion show is really going to be a lot of fun! I bet he spent a couple of grand on these new costumes."
"Closer to five," Audrey returned offhandedly, and correctly. "But don't you
" know, some things ain't never going to change!"
The girls laughed in unison. The some things were, of course, the fact that each and every girl in the show could be, and often were, had fucked -- going to the highest bidders during the nightly revues.
There were other ways to pick up some "extra change," too. Stag films, private smokers -- in each case, Darryl Haag making all the arrangements and taking most of the money. But now, for Audrey Henderson at any rate, there was yet another way to make money -- Darryl had promised her a bonus of three-hundred dollars for each married replacement she could procure to take the place of the more difficult single girls -- beginning with one for Darlene Thompson. Considering the fact that he was losing over a thousand dollars each day the "Little Mexico" was closed, Darryl considered the arrangement more than satisfactory. Audrey too! With twenty girls in the revue -- nineteen without Darlene -- and only four of them married, she stood to make an extra forty-eight hundred dollars, to be added to the fifteen thousand plus she already had in the bank ... and with relatively little, effort!
Audrey began stripping completely in preparation for the show. As she removed her skirt and blouse, the mirror reflected a figure that was far too voluptuous for the fashion magazines, but just right for the kind of fashion show Darryl Haag had in mind. A tiny flutter of excitement coursed through her at the thought of working again after her two-week layoff... for Audrey Henderson was a girl who literally put everything into her work! Her long, ash-blonde hair fell in soft waves across her shoulders, and when she removed her pink lace half-bra,- that hair was just long enough to partially cover the succulent beige flesh of her nipples. She kicked off her high heels, losing three inches of height in the process, then quickly unfastened her matching pink garter belt, pulling it and her sheer taupe nylons off in one smooth motion of her arm. Her flimsy, transluscent white panties came off next, revealing that she was indeed a true blonde.
The soft rather generous triangle of curling pubic hair was the color of duckling down. Except for two bikini-sized strips of white flesh, the young Navy wife was tanned all over.
Gingerly, Audrey picked up her first garment, a sheer black nylon sleeping outfit which resembled a pair of old fashioned bib overalls, except that the bib was much shorter than average, and only the slightly oversized suspenders covered her luscious nipples while the rest of her ample breasts were left naked and exposed. Next, she picked up the shoes she would be wearing - a pair of silver-strapped, naked heel pumps with ultra-high heels designed to accentuate her already majestic five foot nine inch height.
"Little Audrey," came the expected call from outside the dressing room door, "you're on first, in five!"
When Audrey made her appearance onstage five minutes later, wearing the transparent black "overalls," there was a great deal of audible excitement emanating from the audience -- ranging from the predictable wolf calls, to out and out propositions. Just wait 'til I come out for the main event, you horny bastards! she thought, flippantly. Then, smiling broadly at her fans, she hooked her thumbs under the wide suspenders and lifted them out and away from her breasts in a boasting gesture that allowed the first few rows of customers a glimpse of her stiffening nipples.
She concentrated on making her body and her costume look good, in line with Darryl's fashion show concept. Then, in response to the leering catcalls, and with the mark of a true professional, Audrey lifted her eyebrows, flirting with her audience, and in time to the sultry, well-paced rhythms coming over the audio system, gently teased down the zippered fly of the overalls that ran from the waist of the pants all the way down the crotch and up the back. But it didn't descend far enough to really show anything, and then was pulled back up to the shouts of More . . . let's see some cunt. . . farther!" and one eager shout from somewhere in the back of the room, "Come on, baby, let's see that pretty little pussy of yours!"
Audrey crossed to stage right, near the curtains, then with one quick tug, yanked the zipper down all the way to her pubic patch and disappeared before anyone could actually see much of anything. Loud groans of disappointment followed her through the curtains.
This was the simple, calculated introduction with which Darryl Haag announced the coming attractions, and guaranteed to pique the interest of the audience as each girl made her curtain call in turn.
Tokyo Rose made her debut next, wearing a loosely flowing geisha-style robe of richly embroidered blue silk over the succulent heart-shaped panties.
The entire "preview" lasted about a half hour, and at its completion, most of the fifty or so male patrons .,. and a few of the several ladies in attendance ... were openly perspiring.
The house lights began dimming their way to total darkness then, as a respondent hush fell over the audience. A blue spotlight flashed on center stage, and the muted percussion of brush on drums began filtering over the speaker system, steadily picking up tempo. "And now, Ladies and Gentlemen," Darryl Haag breathed heavily into a microphone offstage, "The 'Little Mexico' is proud to present our own, funky, Little Audrey!"
The drum roll gave way to the brassy strains of Herb Alpert's Tijuana Taxi then, and a white strobe began to flash blindingly through the blue circle the overhead spot' cast on the stage curtain. Slowly, the curtain parted and Audrey
Henderson's high heeled foot came peeking out, to be followed immediately by a beautifully sculpted leg clad in opera hose to mid-thigh. Finally, after what seemed an eternity to the anxious eyes of the audience, but what in reality had only been a few seconds, the whole girl appeared, prancing in time to the lyrical melody like a gaited horse.
She was wearing a periwinkle blue floor length evening gown with a slit in the side that ran up to the waist. From the appreciative murmurs circulating through the audience, Audrey noted with satisfaction that she had been handsomely received. Her ash-blonde hair was plaited into a single rope-like braid that sprouted from the top of her head and ended between her shoulder blades. On her arms she wore opera length white gloves, while beneath the garter-supported mesh of her stockings, she was panty-less.
Stopping at center stage, Audrey turned her back to the heavily breathing audience and bent forward, rotating her sjim hips lewdly in time to the music. Teasingly, she began to hike the long skirt up her legs until the hem was at the juncture of her thighs. "All the way!" the men in the audience were pleading, "Show us some ass!" Leaning away from the room still farther, and drawing her legs together femininely, Audrey gave the long skirt of her dress a quick flip, baring the luscious white moons of her buttocks completely in the harsh spotlight. Whistles and catcalls rifled through the auditorium.
She straightened quickly then, careful not to show them too much for too long lest they lose interest in her act -- as if that were possible! "Show us your titties!" came a shout through the smoke filled darkness. "Yeah, let's see your boobs!" came a second.
There was an audible intake of breath as Audrey turned to face her unseen audience straight on. A little smile began to play across her lips as she slowly unbuttoned the tiny buttons on the front of her dress. You like that, don't you, you horny bastards! she laughed silently, knowing that even at that very moment, "those in the know" were writing their bids for her affections on the insides of matchbook covers and passing them to the topless cocktail waitresses that meandered through the crowd hustling drinks -- notes that would be delivered to Darryl Haag.
Audrey stood brazenly naked to the waist now, having let the upper portion of her dress slip tauntingly down off her shoulders to hang loosely about her waist, giving her naked breasts more sensual interest than had she been completely naked at that point. "Play with 'em!" someone cried.
Moving her hands slowly in response to the catcall, she fondled her lush, beige-nippled breasts for her admiring clientele, feeling a tremor of increased excitement herself up between her panty-less thighs. It was good to be back working again! She squeezed and caressed her breasts with the practiced sensuality of a real pro, taking the tips of her rapidly distending nipples between her thumbs and forefingers and pulling them outwards from her body with a twist, manipulating them into bizarre and fascinatingly wicked shapes. "Kiss 'em . .. Kiss your titties!" Raising one ripely molded nipple to her face, she opened her mouth to let her tiny pink tongue flicker out to lap at the puckered tip. Then it swirled around in lewd concentric circles to engulf the entire puffy areola and a good portion of milk-white breast-flesh inside her mouth and began. to suck with earnest-contentment. Her brown eyes closed in passion then, then reopened to flutter trampishly at her hidden audience as she continued to maul and lick her now rigid nipples. Below, her hips began to swing forward freely in a lewd parody of fucking. "All the way!" someone called out in the darkness. "All the way ... All the way ..." several voices chorused.
Quickly, the Herb Alpert record was replaced by one of Frank Sinatra's AH The Way, then, with a trained flick of her hips, Audrey's periwinkle-colored gown slipped the remaining distance to the floor. Except for the long white gloves, opera hose, and high heels, she was completely naked before the lusting audience.
Like a true fashion model now, Little Audrey displayed her birthday suit to the make-believe fashion buyers. From one end of the stage to the other she walked, the spotlight trailing, as she teetered precariously on the built-up silver shoes. The long lithe muscles of her thighs taunted sinuously, the lush white flesh of her buttocks dimpling in sensual promise with every step she took. The rope-like strand of her hair swung back and forth like a metronome in time to the softer melody. Then, she was back at center stage again, full front, the golden wisps of her natural blonde pubic hair glistening in the reflected glow of the stage lights.
She squatted. The audience went crazy, then stock still.
Audrey leaned back on her slender arms, the long braid of her hair touching the floor as she bent at the knees, raising her pussy, peeking out pinkly below, in lewd offering to an imaginary lover somewhere in the audience ...
The moment her middle finger entered her pussy, the house lights flashed off.
Minutes later, when she arrived at the upstairs room that Darryl had assigned her to, Audrey wasn't surprised to see Archie Quinn, the scrawny, hawk-faced regular of hers, waiting there for her in all of his disgusting ugliness. Of all the men she'd ever known, he was without a doubt the most repulsive and, paradoxically, the most intriguing! He was already naked on the bed when Audrey entered the room, closing the door softly behind her.
"Hello, Archie," she chimed familiarly, slipping out of the dressing gown she'd thrown loosely around her nakedness.
"Suck me first, you little slut!" he commanded gleefully, his lips sneering back menacingly over his yellow teeth, his sunken, dark-circled eyes never leaving her regal nakedness. "We'll bullshit later!"
It was real good to be working again!
From the halo of her golden hair to her pink-lacquered toenails, Audrey Henderson's kneeling form was a mass of excited quivering gooseflesh. Tenderly, she grasped the long thick shaft of lust-purpled flesh sticking straight up from between the skinny, hair covered legs spread on either side of her submissive form. Her long, fine-boned feet dangled over the edge of the bed, her toes curled in breathless anticipation. Lovingly, she peeled the wealth of Archie's foreskin down over his crimson, blood-engorged cock-head, then back up again in a gentle milking motion that caused a milky pearl of male pre-cum to pool obscenely at the tiny split in the tip.
"Been fucking any more little girls lately?" she teased, as her tongue snaked out in a hard point to tease and penetrate the sticky penile opening in a miniature parody of fucking.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" he chortled, with a sawing motion of his hips, reveling in the lewd feeling of his foreskin slipping back and forth over the lust-swollen veins of his penis.
Yes! She would like to know. After all, hadn't he admitted to her one time that he'd done time for assaulting a thirteen year old girl? But then, for some peculiar reason, that fact only seemed to add to the fascination he held for her.
Teasingly, the golden strands of her silken hair brushed across the head of his lurching cock, while swaying beneath'. her, her puffy nipples grazed maddeningly over the cool satin bedsheets.
"Looks like well be getting some new girls in for you, Archie," Audrey cooed promisingly as her lush full lips met the head of his cock in a wet and lingering kiss. "Maybe even another redhead. I remember you used to be pretty fond of that one who got fired."
"Yeah - 'Suxy Q\ That little bitch was good asshole fuckin'. Darlene was better, though."
Audrey's mouth opened widely to receive him then, although the mammoth size of his desire-heated member made it impossible to take anything but the head of it into her mouth. Still, he loved it... and so did she. "Is this new bitch young?"
"MMMMHHHHHmmmmm! Very."
"Is she married?"
"MMHHHHmmmmm. Very!" Though for- different reasons, Archie, like Darryl Haag, preferred the married ones. There was something adolescently naughty about fucking another man's wife. Perhaps it was because he himself was so repulsive to most women that he'd never found one willing to marry him, that this gave him such pleasure. And, on more than_ once occasion, one of the married ones -- always a married one -- would offer her services to him free, even though it would mean her job if Darryl ever found out about it. Audrey hadn't, not yet anyway, but then, she was too much a businesswoman to give anything away. But there had been several, including Tokyo Rose, at least until he'd invited his "special friends" over that time and .. .
"I swear this pecker of yours gets bigger every time I suck it!" Audrey complained delightedly, raising her head from his lap momentarily to rub her aching jaw. "Why don't we just skip this part and fuck?"
"Just a little more, Audrey baby... let Daddy daydream awhile."
His special friends. Lady Alder -- The Baroness -- and her birch rods, a very elegant lady. The Merchantsens, Fred and Louise, and their fourteen year old daughter, Tanya Marie . . . delightful! Billy the jockey and his pet dog, "Roscoe" . ..
"C'mon, Archie! My jaw is killing me!"
"Okay, bitch. Up on your knees!" It wasn't that Audrey didn't enjoy sucking Archie's cock, but rather that it honestly did hurt her jaws, stretched as they were by the full blood-hardened girth of his massive rod. As a matter of fact, she'd have been happy to suck it all night long if it hadn't been so big. She liked sucking cocks . . . anybody's cock . . . except possibly her husband Ron's. His cock, she could suck anytime. And there were a few times in this world, as far as she was concerned, as delightful as feeling a complete stranger's cum squirt powerfully into her sucking throat. It was a masochistic kind of thing and she knew it, but then, weren't most women a little bit masochistic? In a weird sort of way, she supposed that that was where a woman's strength lay -- for most men were tangibly generous to her after a particularly grueling round of love-making. A scratch or two? A few bruises? They would heal in time. But, poverty was another matter, as Audrey could well attest. And, like the title of the Robert Rourk novel, little Audrey didn't intend to be Poor No More!
"Like this, Archie?" the full bodied ash-blonde asked, kneeling on the bed with her buttocks waving up lewdly at her customer and her breasts and face pressed down into the mattress.
"Beautiful, Beeoootiful! Now where the fuck is the Vaseline?"
Up the ass! Archie intended to fuck her in the ass! Oh well, she thought philosophically, I've been through worse. ., and enjoyed every minute of it!
She could see her reflection in the full length mirror that adorned one wall of the otherwise dreary cubicle that Darryl had the audacity to call a "room". But Darryl had already blown a wad on remodeling the club, and just hadn't gotten around to doing the upstairs yet. Her entire suntanned body was flushed pink from excitement and the heat of the close quarters. Her well rounded buttocks waved sensuously from side to side in lusty anticipation as the hirsuite Archibald Quinn rifled the drawer of the night table in search of an artificial lubricant, his massive erection bobbing menacingly before him like a medieval battle standard.
"Sweet success," he giggled threateningly, producing a tube of vaginal jelly from the drawer. "Thought I was going to have to go in dry for a minute there."
Audrey felt the bed sag behind her then, as Archie climbed up behind her. She felt her hips being grasped and repositioned then his middle finger - daubed with the cold jelly - pressuring unceremoniously against the crinkled smallness of her upthrust anus. Tauntingly, roughly, the fingers of his free hand toyed with her pulsating clitoris and thin blood-swollen vaginal lips.
"Do you like ass-fucking, my pretty?"
"Not really, old man," she replied in mock good humor, feeling the preliminary tinglings of mixed dread and anticipation course up her spine. Why doesn't he just get on with it?
"Oh, now isn't that too bad?" he rasped sadistically. "I should think a sexy little whore like you would love it!"
She felt his bony fingers drawing away from her naked buttocks then, and caught his reflection in the mirror as he daubed a huge gob of the jelly on the head of his angry red penis. My God, that bastard's big! she panicked. I've taken him in the cunt before, and that was bad enough . . . But how in holy hell has Darlene been managing him up the ass?
Suddenly, she was aware that he was watching her facial expressions in the mirror. "Scared, my dear?" he mocked, with a lascivious grin. "Do you think 'he's' rather impressive?"
The moment the pressure began against her unprotected nether ring, Audrey reached out and gripped the sheets with her fingers, biting her lips to keep from crying out, and closing her eyes against the expected pain.
"I normally prefer young girls for this particular type of fun," he laughed calmly, never ceasing his forward momentum. "But Darlene is out of action for awhile, and they wouldn't let me see her at the hospital. So until your new friend comes ..."
"AAaaaauuugggghhhh!!!" Audrey protested uselessly. "D-Don't... please ... I--I'll suck it for you ... anything but thiiisssssss!"
And then, Audrey felt his foreskin being stretched back as his long thick cock-shaft pressured slowly forward against the tiny cringing hole of her anus. There was a momentary pause, then suddenly it popped inside, past her tightly clutching sphincter ring.
"Ohhhhh God, Archie!" she gasped tearfully. "T-That hurts!"
"It's going to hurt a lot more before it gets better," he cackled gamely. "But don't worry, you'll soon come to love it, my pretty!"
"It hurts too much! No! Please take it out! I can't take it this way!"
"Oh come now -- you mean to tell me a whore like you ain't never had it up the butt?'v
"Cocks, yes ... a few times . . . but never, never anything like ..."
"My ^friends' tell me it looks like a salami. What do you think, my dear?"
Painfully, Audrey turned her face to the reflection in the mirror, to see her willow Nordic beauty postured slavishly before the paunchy, greasy-looking older man whose massive penis was just beginning to fuck into her anus. Yet, despite the initial revulsion the reflection engendered with her, she couldn't deny the sudden inexplicable thrill that coursed up her spine too. Yes, it does look like a salami. .. or a big blood sausage! Then, God, I'm unable to move! she thought as he surged even deeper up into her vainly resisting little rectum. His immense cock, like an angry, mailed fist wormed its way relentlessly up into her body an excruciating fraction of an inch at a time, stretching her anal passage beyond all reason. No, no!. .. He'll split me in two!. . . How could lever think I'd get any pleasure out of this?
Archie Quinn was actually drooling now, as he stared down at Audrey's moon-shaped ass-cheeks, seeing the pinkish flesh of her round little anus clinging tightly to his cock like a wide-stretched rubber band as he drew back after every forward lurch. At first the pressure had been almost unbearable, even for him, but now it was just right, promising to milk out his sperm in that special delirious climax that came from this type of fucking. At this rate it wouldn't be long until he felt the burning torrent of his cum gurgling into the peaches-and-cream softness of her buttocks.
Archie only laughed again at his paid companion's agonized protests, and she dug her nails into her palms and bit her lips to try not to show the true depth of her humiliated agony. Then, oddly, the pain began to slacken a little, even though his forward penetration of her defenseless anus continued unabated until she felt the prickly sensation of his pubic hair grazing the soft crevice between her skewered ass-cheeks. He was sunk inside her to the hilt! And all she felt was numb!
"See, my pet? You're still alive now, aren't you!" he chortled, cruelly mauling the pliant flesh of her narrow waist in his vise-like grip.
"Y--Yes," she replied, surprising even herself. "I--I guess I am."
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, her glassy-eyed tormentor began to saw in and out of her hopelessly stretched anus, striking a lewd cadence of syrupy friction. She felt oddly wet between her buttocks and her throbbing vaginal lips below -- wet and morbidly ashamed -- for she was being sodomized by a convicted child molester, and she knew it. She tried to concentrate on that horrid fact, but as Archie pumped into her time and time again, she found herself automatically squirming back onto his thick fleshy penis, heaving and undulating her body, moving her rounded young hips back in tiny welcoming circles as if she were actually reveling in his bestial intrusion.
With a peculiar reversal of her initial fears, the pain and discomfiture began to fade from the kneeling blonde's mind, only to be replaced by a weird masochistic desire. It began, to tingle through her tortured flesh, bringing her clitoris to quivering erection once again, her nipples distending to an almost painful hardness, and her wide-stretched rectum to a delightfully heated fountain of thrills. Her hips ground back to him in ejoyment with each jolting thrust of the huge blood-engorged cock deep in her acquiescing loins, as her full firm white breasts danced obscenely beneath her bent and yielding torso, the very tips of her swollen nipples teasing against the cool satin sheets below.
"How is it now, my pet?" Archie leered commandingly down at her as he watched her changing reactions in the mirror. "Is it like I said it would be?"
Dear God, she was loving every second of it! She was finding absolute lust in being fucked in the ass by such a monstrous prick . . . just like he'd said she would! This was it... this was why she had become a whore in the first place!
"Oh, Archie... yes, YES!"
His cruelly mauling fingers left. the supple
"trimness of her waist then, to course lightly along her sides and swoop down to her swaying breasts. Slowly, he began to knead them, yet with a steel-gripped authority, his fingers like talons, squeezing and twisting the pliant white flesh. She was now delirious with delight, and she reached down between her straining legs with one hand to tenderly caress his dangling balls, then forward slightly to the throbbing triangle of her golden-haired cunt. Quickly then, she plunged her slender middle finger deep into her moisture-dripping vagina, the nail scraping the soft interior flesh in its maddening rush to imbed itself. She could feel Archie's sperm-filled testicles slapping against the back of her hand as she groaned to the tempo of this salacious new double fucking. Dropping her head for a moment, she looked between her excitedly heaving breasts to where her finger was thrust deep in her pulsating pussy, and felt another lewd thrill at the visual depravity of it. Oh God, it's wonderful!
"Tuck back harder, you little blonde bitch!" Quinn yelled down at her. "Move that ass!"
"Yes! ... Anything! ... Only, cum! Please cum in meeeeeeee!"
The little slut is mine now. . . all mine! Archie gloated silently, his piggish little eyes actually bulging in sadistic lust. She's a whore, fust like all women.., but tonight, she's my whore!
Audrey's cock-filled belly began to convulse then, in long, shattering quivers, and knowing her climax was near, she fucked her middle finger furiously in and out of her dilated cuntal lips. She ... was ... almost ... THERE!
"AAAaaauuuugggghhhhh! rmmmmmrn cummmiinnnggggg!"
It was there for Archie as well, as needle-thin jets of his hot sticky semen began to squirt up into her tightly caressing anus, filling her tender young belly with the lewd expulsion of his lust-fired passion. Audrey thrust her buttocks back to him in wild abandon now, her every muscle contracting as though she were in the midst of an epileptic seizure. And still he kept cumming! It felt like he was pumping a pint of his boiling male cum into her convulsing rectum. She groaned and squealed shamelessly and twisted her finger harder in her streaming vagina, wallowing in the wickedness of the act she was performing.
"Well?" he chortled above her, feeling the final spurt of his sperm entering Audrey's already filled bottom. "Do you think your new little friend will ike it?"
Oh God, how could she not like it?
Chapter Four
Sherry English was barely aware of either the brightness of the morning sun or the odor of diesel exhaust emanating from the rear of the truck in front of them. As they drove along in the sporty orange Alfa Romeo, the young Navy wife scarcely listened to Audrey Henderson's monologue, already knowing most of it by heart anyway. Audrey's favorite topic was men. As far as that went, that was all Audrey lived for -- men!
"Well," Audrey was saying as she fluffed up her blonde hair and gazed coquettishly at a young man in a Camaro next to her car, "I told him it was no go. I mean, who did he think he was? Like, no raise, no work . . . period!"
"Did you quit?" Sherry asked dully, not really caring one way or the other.
"Yeah, that was four months ago. It's kinda funny though, isn't it, kid? I mean, here I've been giving you a lift home from work practically every morning for the past three weeks . .. ever since your ol* man shipped out, and come to find out you actually work at the 'Green Apple*. I thought you just stopped off there for coffee or something while you were waiting for me."
Sherry winced at Audrey's tasteless conversation and glanced at her wristwatch. It was a little past five a.m. "It sure is light out for so early in the morning, isn't it?" she said, trying to change the subject.
"Sure, honey, it's summer!"
Screechingly, Audrey made a left hand turn on an amber light.
"Anyway, like I was saying, kid, what's a nice looking girl like yourself want to work in a sweatshop like the 'Green Apple' for? Being a waitress is for the birds! They pay you peanuts and expect you to work like an elephant!"
"I--It's not so bad," Sherry stammered defensively.
"Oh, no? What do you clear a week, sixty? . . . seventy?"
"Sixty-four fifty plus tips!" Sherry corrected.
"Nuts!" Audrey countered. "Old man Pollard even paid me more than that when I was working there, and what kind of tips can you make working the eight to four-thirty shift? Five or six bucks off the drunks after the bars close?"
"I made eight seventy-five last Saturday!"
"Eight seventy-five? Wow! You want to know how much/made in tips last Saturday?"
The car braked to a ragged halt for a traffic light, and Sherry could feel Audrey staring at her, even though she kept her own attention focused on the road ahead. Her ears were burning with embarrassment.
"... A cool fifty dollars! Not bad for one night's work, is it, kid?"
Suddenly, Sherry felt like she would burst if she held herself in any longer, "Marc would kill me if I., .if I... "
"If you did what I do?" Audrey finished for her.
"Yes."
"Listen, honey," Audrey continued, "stripping isn't so bad. Sure men look at you... big deal! They look at you in the supermarket. It's no big thing."
"I usually dress to go to the market!" . "Yeah, and I suppose you wear an overcoat when you go to the beach too!" Audrey said reproachfully, but in a softer tone, like a big sister talking to her junior. "I mean . .. well, hell."
"I-I'm sorry, Audrey. I didn't mean it like it sounded."
Audrey flashed the lovely young wife a warm smile. "Sure, kid. But just for the record, I'm up on stage when I strip, and I'll bet you a dime to a doughnut, you get pinched a lot more than I do."
Sherry flinched, but because of Audrey's softer tone, she said nothing. Besides, if the truth be known, she had been pinched on any number of occasions since she'd started working at the 'Green Apple' coffee shop.
Audrey braked suddenly, viciously honking her horn at a woman in an old Rambler who had abruptly changed lanes in front of her without signaling. Then, the crisis passed, she turned her attention back to Sherry. "What are you doing this weekend, kid?"
"Oh, I plan to wash my hair, write a few letters, and do my laundry. And I thought I'd write a poem for Marc if I can get myself into the proper mood."
Audrey chewed her gum silently and looked sympathetic. "You hear from him lately? I mean, he's okay and everything? That cruddy Vietnam. Ron's been there twice now, but he'll be coming home in a couple of months."
Abruptly, Audrey brightened, blinked her eyes, and dimpled as she saw the thirtyish driver of a white Grand Prix convertible in the far right lane staring over at them with open admiration.
Sherry seemed unaware that Audrey had switched her attention from her to the driver of the other car. She felt her eyes misting as she thought again about her husband Marc and what he must be going through right now. Finally she cleared her throat and said; "He's okay. Or at least he was two weeks ago. They were getting ready to go out on a patrol or something, and he said he wouldn't be able to write for awhile. I haven't had a letter for a week now. Maybe," she crossed her fingers out of sight, "there'll be one today."
"Yeah, I hope so ... for your sake. It's bad enough being alone, but when you don't get any letters either... I just don't know how you stand it, honey. Why, I'd be climbing the goddamn walls if I didn't have a man to talk to once in awhile!"
In spite of her sorrow, Sherry had to fight back a laugh talk to, my eye! Her apartment was right next to Audrey's. They shared a common balcony, and it was difficult not to overhear what went on in the next apartment whenever Audrey got "careless" and left the sliding glass doors open slightly. Not much talking went on when Audrey had one of her boy friends over. A lot of grunting and panting. .. but not much talking.
Sherry knew she should probably move out of the apartment complex -- for that, and other reasons -- like maybe if she moved back in with her parents in Briarcliff, maybe she could save enough money to buy a car for her and Marc. God knows they needed one. But then, moving was really out of the question. The apartment had been Marc's and her only home. True, they had been married less than two months when Marc went overseas, but nonetheless, it was his bed she slept in, his television she secretly shared with him during the lonely nights, his clothes in the closet. That made it bearable, even during those hot summer nights when the sounds of passionate sexual activity came from the apartment next door.
Traffic suddenly lessened at the interchange, and Audrey's orange Alfa Romeo picked up speed. Six minutes later, the little sports car darted under the carport of the Baltimore East apartment complex. Although they were now parked in the shade, it was obvious that it was becoming a very warm day.
Audrey slammed the car door, and made no effort to pull down her mini-skirt where her black bikini panties were plainly visible. She fanned herself with her hand and grimaced "Wow, it's getting hot! I'm going for a swim later on. How 'bout you?"
Sherry nodded. The pool would be heavenly. Best of all, the running, screaming kids, who usually flocked like jungle beasts at a watering hole during the long afternoons, would all be off at day camp or taking their naps if they were young enough.
Audrey disappeared, heading upstairs to her apartment. Sherry lost no time in going around the front to the columns of bronze mail boxes shining dully in the morning sun. The heat was forgotten as she inserted her key. "Please, let there be a letter from Marc," she prayed aloud.
The metal door dropped open to reveal three white envelopes hiding in the cubicle. She didn't need to look at the addresses; she knew from the shapes of the envelopes that they were all from her husband. She hugged them to her breast as though she were protecting gold nuggets, and started to retrieve her key when something else caught her eye. At the bottom of the receptacle there was a small square box -- a mailer -- like people send tape cartridgesin.
It seemed to take an eternity for Sherry to run upstairs and fumble open the door to her apartment, but then the refreshing wave of coolness from within engulfed her. Closing the door behind her with her foot, Sherry headed for the bedroom, tossing her purse on the couch as she passed. Then, mindless of her waitress' uniform, she threw herself across the bed and ripped open the first letter with trembling fingers. It read: .
Dearest Darling
We just got back from patrol today - you know, the one I was telling you about? Anyway, I fust finished my command report, and as usual I started thinking about you (what else is new?) and especially our last night together. I don't know if you know this or not, but the fact that you, well, responded - really took a load off my mind. Believe it or not, I was beginning to have some doubts about my abilities as a lover.. .
Sherry lay the letter down momentarily to dab at the comers of her eyes with her fingers. She didn't want to cry, but Marc was such a beautiful, thoughtful person, and she missed him so very very much.
It was the little things, all day long, that kept reminding Sherry that her man was gone. The knob coming off the bathroom door -- and staying off -- until the overworked handyman of the apartment complex, the seventy-odd year old Mr. Gainsborough got around to fixing it. Then there was the matter of the burned out bulb in the refrigerator that had mysteriously gone unreplaced for the past two weeks, and which she jokingly told herself would be great for her diet. The toaster was acting up ... the motor in her hair dryer had developed a chronic short circuit. . . And then there was the little matter of S--E--X. Yes, she remembered their last night together -- and that night last week when she'd done something she hadn't done since her adolescence!
It had been one of those hot, sleepless summer nights, after sounds of a particularly vocal round of love-making from next door had kept Sherry up past prime time television. A Tuesday, it was . . . her night off, and apparently Audrey's as well. She'd stayed up past sign off on television, trying miserably to get interested in a mystery novel, anything to get her mind off of herself and Marc, but it was just too damned hot to concentrate. It made her a little mad too, to think of what she and Marc were paying in rent on the place, and the tight-fisted old landlady, Mrs. Flint, insisted on turning the air conditioning unit off at night, because it wasn Y necessary! Crap!
Nothing seemed to do much good. Sherry had taken a cold shower, put on her shortest ""shorty" nightgown, even left the glass doors leading to the balcony wide open. Nothing. It was like the air had packed up and gone north for the summer. Sherry had just returned from the kitchen with her third glass of iced tea, carrying it out on the balcony with her in search of a breeze, when she thought she heard giggling. First a woman's voice, then a man's. Close. Audrey's apartment! Then; "Yesssss . . . yessss, darling. . . lick it good!"
Sherry felt every muscle in her body tense as she drew her back up to the wall between the two apartments, as if she were afraid of being seen on her own balcony ... or at least the common balcony she shared with Audrey Henderson. She dared not breathe, as the words came to her from next door, registering in her brain ... It was definitely a woman's voice, hissing those words of passion. Audrey's voice! Sherry looked around, then down in the courtyard. Nobody else seemed to be awake, unless they were hiding in the shadows like she was.
Sherry was frozen in her eavesdropping position, unable to move her back from the prickly stucco of the wall separating the windows of their respective apartments.
"Ooooohhhhh! . . . that's the way, darling, .. suck it, too!.. . lick and suck!"
Drawn like a puppet on a string now, Sherry felt her thinly clad back scraping along the rough surface of the wall as she crept closer to Audrey's open window. Then, twisting her head slightly, she found that she could see into the apartment clearly. The lights were out, but the two of them were lying in the middle of the floor, partially illuminated in the light reflecting up from the pool in the courtyard, and the nearly three-quarter moon. Audrey lay with her back propped up against the couch, her dress bunched up around her waist and her legs raised and drawn back, her thighs widely spread before the unidentified man whose head was lowered into her naked loins. He, too, was naked from the waist down, his buttocks and legs gleaming dully in the pale light.
My God!.. . Oh, my God! Sherry's mind reeled, her lips forming the words she dared not say aloud.
Audrey had her hands twisted into the man's dark hair, and she was wriggling around beneath ton as if she were trying to pull him deeper between her obscenely flayed thighs. Obscene wet sucking sounds drifted out the window and seared themselves into Sherry's brain as her pulse pounded in her temples. They were so engrossed in their adulterous performance that they hadn't heard her come out on the balcony.
"Yesssss .. . yesssssss! Do it just like thaaaaaaaat!"
Sherry was hardly conscious of her own mounting reactions to the vulgar performance being enacted before her disbelieving eyes. Automatically, without thinking, she found herself sinking to her hands and knees on the rough outdoor carpeting of the balcony.
"Oooooohhhhh . . . Fuck me now, darling. . . My cunt's on fire!"
Sherry continued to stare in horrified fascination from her crouched position, as the man tugged her blonde-haired neighbor down flat on the floor with him and moved up between her waiting legs, his long thick penis standing out in lewd silhouette from his loins Hke a wagging tree limb in the dim light.
"You love fucking, don't you. . . ?" Sherry heard him say to Audrey.
"Oh yesssl I realty love it!"
"Doesn't that sailor-husband of yours ever come home?"
Dear God! Sherry panicked, she'd never seen or heard anything so utterly obscene in her life.
Their foul words richocheted in her brain as she watched the dark-haired man move up over Audrey's prostrate form, his knees planted now on either side of her half-nakedly exposed body beneath him, his lust-bloated shaft spearing out menacingly. Then, the naive young redhead gasped in sheer awe as she saw Audrey reach behind the man, clasping her hands around his gleaming buttocks, and draw him up over her body until his hard penis disappeared right into her open mouth.
"Hey," he protested meekly, "/ thought you wanted to screw!"
Sherry couldn't believe her own reactions to the scene as tiny prurient sensations of desire began to stir in her own love-starved loins. What did they call people who watched things like this . . . voyeurs? Still, the lustful sounds they made, embellished with their licentious language was strangely exciting to her. She had never watched, or even thought of watching two people making love before, and was amazed how strongly it affected her -- erotically, and not disgustingly as she might have expected.
Nonetheless, she had to keep her wits about her. A situation like this, she decided, would do her already sex-bothered mind no good . . . especially when her husband Marc was ten thousand miles away in Vietnam!
"Oh Christ. . . suck it. , . suck that prick, baby!" the man groaned, and Sherry could see his buttocks thrusting back and forth as he sawed his long thick cock into Audrey Henderson's eagerly ovalled lips.
"Mmmmmmmmm," the blonde stripper mewled as she clung to his obscenely flexing buttocks, his huge blood-engorged penis seeming to go all the way down her throat each time he rammed it forward.
My God, he's going to choke her to death! Sherry gasped while a chill of inexplicable excitement swept over her. I wish I could see it better!
Suddenly, Sherry was aware of yet another sensation -- that of her own hands touching her body -- her breasts -- pulling at her swelling nipples through the thin material of her baby-doll pajamas, mauling and kneading her magnificent breasts.
"Now, darling... fuck me NOW!" Audrey groaned up at her nameless lover, dropping her head back to the floor, relinquishing his swollen member for duty elsewhere.
"I'll fuck you like you've never been fucked in your life, you horny little bitch," the man swore affectionately, moving hurriedly back between her widely splayed thighs.
Sherry gasped at the tingling sensations between her own legs as she continued to watch -- and listen -- attentively. Her hands were now almost savagely caressing her excitedly heaving breasts. It was dangerous ground she was treading on, but she couldn't bring herself to leave . .. not yet. ..
"Yes.. . yesssss. .. hold my legs way up, darling . . . just like that! Ooooohhhhh, yes . . . squeeze my titties, too . .. fuck harder. .. Oh God. .. shove your finger up my asshole .. . hurt me!"
Sherry had one hand between her own legs then, rubbing furiously with her extended middle finger at her hot little pussy through the thin material of her shorty nightgown. There was no leaving now . .. not until.. .
Kt living room next door, his long, pulsing hard shaft glistening whitely in the moonlight, mesme rizing the pretty young brunette housewife who's fingers had mysteriously crept up beneath the hem of her nighty to pinch and prod at the tenderly seeping flesh between her own legs, parting the moist pink petals of her aching pussy and rubbing her distended clitoris . . . "Ooooohhhhhhhh."
"What was that?"
"What, Steve?"
"That noise. It sounded like somebody moaning out on the veranda."
"So what? They couldn't see anything with the lights out."
"I don't like it. I'm going out and have a look "
"Steve?"
"Yeah?"
"Put your pants on. You look like a goddamn hunting dog with your cock pointing out like that!"
Oh my God, Sherry panicked, they heard me!
Quickly then, with complete disregard for the scraping her knees were getting on the outdoor carpeting, Sherry backed her way into her own apartment, shut the sliding glass door silently, and pulled the drapes.
Whew! she sighed, slumping down on the couch. That was a close one!
Taking a moment to catch her breath and regain some of her composure, the red-haired young wife reached for the glass of iced tea she'd left standing on the coffee table in front of the couch. The ice cubes clicked nervously against the sides of the glass. Calm down, girl, she admonished herself. You're safe now. But, her mind was a jumble of confused thoughts, sexual thoughts. She'd been aroused at what she'd seen and overheard, and she was still aroused . . .
"Steve, is anyone there?" Sherry heard her neighbor's voice.
"Naw. There's a light on in this other apartment though, who lives there?"
"Just another lonely housewife, Steve boy, but don't get any ideas, she's just a kid."
The voices were fainter now, with the glass door shut, but still discernible to Sherry's eager ears. Then, she heard Audrey's door being closed as Steve or whoever he was went back inside. Just a kid! Well, I like that! Sherry fumed. Then, placing her feet up on the table before her, she finished off her tea in two large gulps and set the glass down noiselessly on the carpet beside the couch. She leaned her head back, resting her neck against the back cushion, and stared blankly at the ceiling for a long moment, reliving in her mind all that she had just seen and heard on the balcony. Her nipples were still swollen and tender from her thoughtless pinching of them just minutes before. The tender flesh up between her legs was still moist and tingling. Oh God, Marc. J wish you were here! She stared down at her trembling breasts, mesmerized by the sight of her strawberry shaped nipples perking out against the translucent white nylon of her baby-doll nightie, rising and falling with her rapid breathing. Does a kid have breasts like these? Docs a kid feel the way I do right now? She nibbed her thighs together unconsciously, yearning silently for a long hard penis to be shoved up between them. Her legs were drawn up, the bottoms of her feet resting on the edge of the coffee table, her toes curled under. Her hands found her breasts again, and began to squeeze their marshmallow softness in a narcissistic parody of foreplay. She wanted to be fucked! Oh Marc . . . Marc! . . . Anybody!
Her mind drifted back still further, to the last night she and her ruggedly handsome young husband had spent together . . . and her first sexual experience with an orgasm. God, how she craved another! She stared at her full, wide-set young breasts with abject fascination, cupping one nylon-clad mound and lifting it beneath her pajamas, then letting it drop quiveringly free. She sat up quickly, stripping her baby-dolls off over her head, then leaned back again into her former reclining position on the couch with her feet resting on the edge of the coffee table. Again, her hands were on her now naked breasts, raising them, pushing them together and upward until they resembled the buttocks of a small child. She felt her insides quivering with lustful anticipation as she realized what she wanted to ... had to ... do. She lifted her breasts, first one, then the other, to her lips, and wetly kissed each throbbing nipple. God, she wished someone were there to suck them for her. Not just Marc, but anybody! Especially anybody . . . Steve . . . old man Pollard . . . Mr. Gainsborough . . . Darryl Whats-his-name . . . some old wino off the streets . . . the way she felt right now, anybody would do!
Her right hand left her breasts then and fluttered lightly down over her trembling belly to the soft inner flesh of her thighs, then back up to the juncture of her long slender legs. Her fingers teased and twirled with abandon in the soft reddish curls of her little pussy, slipping back and forth to graze against the inflamed coral nub of her clitoris! Oh, that's goooood! she flinched at the electric sensations. All ready for making love, and nobody here to do it!
It was fantasy and she knew it, pretending what it would be like to make love with somebody not her husband. Still, it had been her very own Marc who had put the idea into her head in the first place, so she felt no guilt at her little game of make believe. Besides, she'd never actually do anything like that. . . not really . . .
One palm cupped gently around her swelling pussy mound with her long-nailed middle finger lying lightly in the tender vaginal crevice without entering, driving her passion to even greater heights with torturing anticipation of what she was going to do next. The tip of her nail scraped softly over the quivering little bud of her clitoris, and little shudders of lewd pleasure rippled through her naked belly, causing the juices of her pussy to flow increasingly. Then the aroused young Navy wife began to rub the entire length of her outer cuntal lips in a steady slow rhythm, dipping her middle finger just slightly into the warm moist slit, teasing herself till she could stand it no longer. Gently, slowly, she pressed her outstretched middle finger up into her hungering cunt to the first knuckle - only to withdraw and repeating the entire process over again -- a little deeper each time, until her finger was embedded to the palm of her hand in her willingly accepting vagina. Oh, that feels soooooo goooooood! If only it were a tittle larger!
Her other hand continued to tweak the desire-hardened nipples of both her breasts, teasing the tips outwards, pinching them between her fingernails in time to the shimmering sensations of warmth below. Her mind reeled again with the lascivious thoughts she was having. What would it be like to be Audrey Henderson, making love with every guy who said hello. . . stripping in front of strangers?
Her brazeness fused in her mind and made her further increase the rhythm of the finger fucking into her tenderly grasping cunt. What would it be like to be a whore ... a real working whore?
Sherry laid down a little farther on the couch and spread her legs even farther apart than they already were. Her free hand never ceased its desperate fondling of her breasts and nipples, pinching them tightly and sending bolts of pained sensuality racing through her passion-suffused body that mingled with the thrills churning in her climax-starved loins. She was going to cum! And she knew that it would be a sweet and searing release, like nothing she had ever experienced before . . . not even that one night with Marc. Her voluptuously naked body was tense now, and her heavy breasts heaved like a sail hi a storm as she sawed her finger in and out, faster and faster between her twitching legs. Suddenly, she needed more! // just isn 't big enough . . . if only I could go a little deeper, I. . . Her thoughts froze in her mind then, as she stared across the room to the dining room table through passion-slit ted eyes . . . candles/
On trembling legs, she flew across the room, wrested the larger of a pair of unused red candles, a wedding gift from her cousin April, from its holder and returned to the couch.
Oh, God that's long! she grimaced. But frantic now to quell the raging lust consuming her mind and body, Sherry parted her reddish pubic curls with the tapered end of the thick candle and shoved, driving most of the candle's almost foot-long length deep into her dripping vaginal sheath. Oh God, oh God, it feel so gooooood!
It thrilled her to see the foreign object disappearing up inside her body like a make-believe cock, and she shivered lustily from head to toe as the prickly wick made contact with the tender tip of her cervix. Her hips undulated wildly now, hunching forward like a mating mink, her tender inner pussy lips -clinging to the rigid red taper like a coat of paint on every outstroke.
A lewd relaxation came over the lonely young wife then, as with a wanton will she never realized she possessed, she relaxed her tensely tightened vaginal muscles as her hips pumped back and forth. She shoved the glistening candle all the way up into her'pussy and wiggled with delight from the pleasurable feelings it gave her. More than anything else, she wanted to be fucked.
Fucked! The word rused obscenely in her mind, exciting her all the more so she remembered the only other time she'd ever used it -- that lewd last night with her sailor-husband. She stared in fascination at her nakedly crouched body with her high-mounded white breasts savagely jiggling and quivering in tempo t o her lustful masturbation. Below, her lust-heated cuntal secretions leaked incessantly down between her legs and into the material of the couch. Closer ... closer .. .
It began as a ripple, then grew into a mass convulsion deep in her belly as she felt an electric warmth grow outward from her pussy until her entire body trembled with anticipation. She teased, gasping, her back arching, her breasts quivering... she was cumming! She was dimming for the second time in her life ...
And now, lying on her bed with her husband's three letters, Sherry shook the lusty recent memory from her mind, and resumed her reading. She finished the first letter hastily, then turned her attention to the second and third letters respectively. They were mainly reiterations of the same lonely theme, and she felt herself transported through time and space as she read his words wistfully. Then, there was the m y s terious tape cartridge, and the cryptically brief, typed return address: From A Friend. Curious, she picked herself up off the bed and began to rummage the top shelf of the hall closet for Marc's tape recorder . . .
"Listen, goddamnit!" Audrey breathed testily into the telephone receiver. "I told you the kid's only been married a month and a half, didn't I?"
"So?"
"So, don't worry your ugly fuckin' head about it, Darryl. She ought to be getting the tape in the mail today, and if I played this hand correctly, she should be coming over here any minute with blood in her eye!"
There was a brief pause, followed by a cough. "Okay, but listen ..."
"Hold it, I just heard the doorbell! .. . Darryl, it's her, why don't you hop into your car and come over? .. . Yeah, that's right, just wait by the pool until I signal for you to come on up."
Chapter Five
Sherry didn't know whether to laugh or scream. In the space of twenty minutes, her entire world had collapsed around her. Marc -her own beloved husband -- was willingly plotting to exchange her sexual favors in order to further his own career! And that bitch, Audrey Henderson, carrying on with him behind her back for God only knows how long! It's a joke! she reasoned hopelessly. It's all a big ugly joke! But she knew, as surely as night follows day, that if it was a joke, it was on nobody but herself. Again and again, the most cryptic phrases on the tape flashed through her brain; ". . . / don't see why Sherry should have to sit home while I'm balling some chick in Singapore, or somebody else's old lady in San Diego. . . and go slow! Let her think it's her own idea... It's not The Club that worries me.. . Just think, Marc, a month from now, Sherry will be doing this for some big fat admiral and earning you a promotion in the process. . . !" Oh, my God!
On trembling legs, the young redhead went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. Then, crossing to the bar in the living room, her beautiful china-blue eyes streaming tears, she poured herself a straight shot of gin ... and another . .. and another, knocking them back neat, her body shuddering with the numbing effect of the alcohol. There was only one thing to do - a single alternative outlet for her grief -- she was going to go next door and knock Audrey Henderson's brains out!
"Come in dear. You look positively pale." Momentarily taken aback by Audrey's seeming calm, the distraught young housewife stood slack-jawed in the doorway for a long moment before her voice finally found her throat, and even then it came broken and trembling. "Y-You filthy little bitch! How dare you carry on with my husband behind my back!"
"Do come in, Sherry," the tall blonde returned nonplussed. "Let's not tell the whole apartment complex about it."
Oh God! Sherry's mind recoiled. Doesn't this stupid bitch realize I'm ready to Ml her?
"Drink, Sherry?"
The crushed Navy bride stood glued to her spot just inside the doorway. Nobody is that stupid!
"Cognac okay? It's a favorite of mine."
"Huh?"
"I asked you if cognac was all right, Sherry."
"Oh yeah, sure, fine."
Audrey returned promptly with a brace of drinks, handing one to the incredulous Sherry English, and motioning broadly with her glass for her to sit down on the couch. "I do hope you're not too upset about the tape, Sherry."
Upset. .. about the tape?. . . why she must have. ..
"That's right, Sherry, I'm A Friend."
"Not of mine, you're not. You're sleeping with half the city of Baltimore already, why my Marc? Why my husband?"
Audrey plopped herself down in an overstuffed chair facing the divan and smiled at Sherry indulgently. "Only half?"
"The rest are women, you bitch!"
Audrey rose then, smoothly and without a trace of anger or fear. She stepped in front of Sherry, then knelt quickly, so that her face was approximately level with Sherry's shoulders. "Slap me, Sherry," she said calmly.
"What?"
"Slap my face. It'll make you feel better."
The y o ung redhead sat stunned and disbelieving. The stupid broad actually wants me to! "I--I don't understand... I mean, well. . ." she blustered.
Audrey flashed her a warm smile, rising to her feet and returning to her chair. "I'm not interested in stealing your husband, Sherry," she said warmly. "I admit I'm a very horny girl, but I don't want to steal anybody's man. I'm perfectly happy with my own."
Sherry drained her glass in one mammoth gulp. The blood pounded confusingly in her temples, and her mind swam in a mixture of curious rage and too rapidly consumed liquor. "But, why Marc?"
"He's a very attractive man, your Marc. Just like you're a very attractive girl."
"W-What's this dub you were talking to him about?"
Audrey went to the kitchen then, returning with a fresh pack of cigarettes, then crossed to the wall bar to pick up the cognac bottle. "The Club, my inquisitive little friend," Audrey explained, filling Sherry's glass, "is a swap club."
Sherry absorbed another ounce of liquor before answering; "Y-You mean swingers, don't you? . . . wife-swapRers?"
"Now you're getting the picture."
"But Marc, you . . . I-I mean, why?" Audrey lit a cigarette, extending the pack to Sherry, who refused. She inhaled deeply, then let the smoke out easy. "Why, Sherry? A pretty girl like you ... a healthy girl... and you ask me why? Don't you ever get lonely with your man gone?"
"Yes, of course, but..."
"Horny?"
Sherry felt her face color in embarrassment. "Yes," she answered meekly.
"Well then, I'll put it to you straight. I'm a whore, but at least I'm an honest whore, and, well ... I got the hots for Marc and the feeling was mutual, so we balled a few times. Then, when I told him about The Club, and how it helped my Ron's career, he got real interested." Sherry's brain swirled in confused thought. The summer heat, the alcohol's numbing effect, the shock of the tape, Audrey's unnerving cool -- everything seemed to conspire against her very sanity. What would she do? What could she do? "Y-You and Ron belong to this club?"
"Does that surprise you?"
-"I-I don't think anything would surprise me today."
Audrey stood and walked across the room to the glass doors leading to the balcony overlooking the courtyard. Opening them, she walked to the railing and looked down. Darryl Haag hadn't arrived yet. Good!
"Audrey?"
"Yes, Sherry?"
"Why did you send me the tape? Why didn't you just tell me? Or Marc, why didn't he tell me himself?"
Audrey returned to her chair and poured herself another drink. "Men are cowards when it comes to doing anything that doesn't require the use of their lovely muscles, my dear. And me, well frankly I couldn't think of any other way to tell you that you would have believed."
"But why would Marc do it? How could he tell me he loves me, and .. . and ..."
"And ask you to sleep with other men? Simple, Marc is greedy, just like I'm greedy. That's hard for you to grasp, I knows but your Marc and I are whittled from the same wood. Poor wood! You come from a nice home, nice clothes, nice friends. Do you know what it's like not to go to the Junior Prom because you don't have a single nice dress?"
"But Marc never told me he was poor!"
"Oh, he's proud in his own way. I'll bet he never told you how he finagled his appointment to Annapolis either, did he?"
"W-What do you mean? Marc graduated in the top third of his class!"
"Oh, Marc is smart all right. But, contrary to popular opinion, that's not enough to get you an appointment to a service academy."
"W-What did he do?"
"He got a congressman's underage daughter pregnant, that's what he did. A Southern congressman, to boot. Then he arranged an abortion for her, and threatened to spill the whole thing to the police and the press if her daddy didn't get him an appointment."
"B-But that's illegal!"
Audrey flashed her a wan smile.
"I-I mean, couldn't he have gone to jail himself?"
"He was holding the last trick, sugar, and the congressman knew it. Namely, he didn't have much to lose by going to jail for a few years, whereas the congressman had his career to think about."
"Oh."
Audrey crushed her cigarette out hastily in an ashtray, and returned to the balcony. Darryl
Haag was just coming into the courtyard -- all three hundred and thirteen fat pounds of him. "Sherry, how would you like to get even with Marc?" Audrey called over her shoulder.
"Huh?"
Audrey came back inside in a flurry, sitting down on the arm of the couch nearest to Sherry. "Do you hate Marc?"
"No, I guess not."
"Do you love him?"
"I-I don't know now . .. why?"
"But you would like to let him know you're a woman now, and not some little girl he can push around, right?"
"What are you driving at, Audrey?"
"Just this, sugar," Audrey smiled, leaning over to refill Sherry's glass yet another time, "what's the one thing Marc doesn't want you to do?"
Sherry's head pounded in alcohol-laden confusion. "W-Work at the 'Little Mexico'?"
"Yes. . . and do you know why?"
Sherry took a long, soothing drink of the freshly poured cognac. "No, why?"
"Because he's selfish, that's why. All men are selfish. He thinks it's okay for you to sleep with other men in order to help his own career, but he'll be damned if he'll let you take off your clothes in front of them to help yourself."
"Help myself?"
"Sure, honey. Money, clothes, that car youVe been talking about, a bank account. Wouldn't you like to have a few nice things and teach Marc a lesson at the same time?"
"B-But what if he finds out?"
"He'll cry all the way to the bank, just like Ron did."
Everything was coming so fast for the bewildered young Navy bride. One minute she was ready to kill Audrey Henderson, and now .. . now she was beginning to get caught up in her blonde neighbor's enthusiasm. "What would I have to do? ... I-I mean I don't know, I don't know!"
"Just give it a try, kid, it's a lot of fun."
"But I don't know anything about stripping!"
"Sure you do, Sherry. You take off your clothes when you go to bed at night, don't you:
"Yes," the gullible young housewife nodded grimly.
"Well, then, all you've got to do is learn to do it in time to music."
"You make it sound so simple."
"There's nothing hard about it."
Sherry's brain was a jungle of confusion. God, what if she did do it... became a stripper? "H-How, I mean, when ... oh, I don't know what I mean!"
"How would you like to try an audition? My boss is down by the pool right now, and I'm sure he'd be happy to give you an audition. Maybe right in your own apartment, how would that be?"
"Like this?" Sherry stammered, looking down at her wrinkled waitress' uniform.
"Listen," the tall blonde replied helpfully, "you go on home and get ready ... pick out a nice long dress, take a shower, fix your hair .. . make yourself look elegant. .. and I'll send him over in about an hour, how would that be?"
"Do you think he'll be interested?"
"I'd stake my life on it, honey. Now, why don't you go on home and start fixing yourself up!"
Sherry stood up, her legs feeling as if they might buckle under her at any moment, and started for the door. Well, she reasoned, if nothing else, it might teach Marc he can't push me around! She paused, framed by the doorway, and turned to face Audrey once again. "Audrey?"
"Yes, sugar?"
"T-Thanks."
Chapter Six
"Audrey, baby, you did it... you actually talked that crazy little broad into it!"
"She isn't crazy," Audrey returned offhandedly to the fat man seated next to her at the side of the pool, "just very young."
"Oh Christ, that's even better! Looky here, I'm getting a hard-on already!"
"Jesus Christ, Darryl, you don't have to show the whole world! Get your hand off of it, for God's sake!"
The fat man stared back at the pool. "Do you think she's ready yet?" he asked excitedly.
"No, I don't She's only been up there a few minutes. Give her a chance."
"Yeah, sure," he said, wiping his thick lips with his tongue. "I'll bet she's some sweet fuckin'!"
"I wouldn't know. Besides, all I did was tell her she was going to strip for you. If you do anything to her, it'll have to be according to how you play your own hand."
Darryl rubbed his pudgy hands together excitedly. "Yeah, but you know how them young bitches are," he cackled, "she'll be so honked up after she takes lier clothes off, she'll fuck a snake."
"A snake I could see. You, I don't know ..."
"Huh?"
Audrey looked at the fat man in a mixture of incredulity and disgust. "Skip it, Darryl, it's over your pretty little head, anyway."
"Boy, I bet that little bitch is some sweet fuckin'!"
Audrey smiled warmly at the obese owner of the Little Mexico. Oh well, she mused, three hundred bucks for bringing her in is three hundred bucks. Still, she couldn't help feeling a little like the Judas Goat leading the lamb to slaughter. But then, one never really knew. Sherry just might like it.
She stood then, stripping off her terry cloth beach jacket, and walked to the edge of the pool. "Coming in, Darryl?" she teased.
Oh God. , . What am I going to wear.. . I don't have any long dresses... how am I supposed to look elegant in a mini? Yet, even as the young red haired housewife, still moist and pink from her shower, scrounged her closet for something to wear for her "audition," she was aware of an increasing irritation -- an itchy feeling - between her lovely white legs. What she was about to do was against everything she'd ever been taught about common decency and propriety, yet therein lay the source of her mounting excitement. It was like having her cake and eating it too. She was putting her foot down where her husband Marc was concerned, and doing something she'd been sort of secretly wanting to do for a long time now -- take her clothes off in front of a man who was not her husband. She knew she wasn't going to let it go any further than that. After all, she wasn't a little girl who couldn't handle herself, for Christ's sake. And really, what was the harm? So a few old ladies might find it disgusting ... so what?
Her fingers danced lightly over the tops of several short dresses and skirts hung neatly in the closet, while unconsciously her free hand crept down to lightly caress the softly curling hair of her vaginal mound -- not roughly, but with a delicate, teasing twirl of her fingertips, her long nails tenderly scratching the soft flesh. God, it really is sort of exciting/ She pulled several dresses out from the closet, looking them over at arm's length, before returning them with the admonishment: "Too short!" Finally, near the end of her wardrobe, her blue eyes rested momentarily on a dress she'd all but completely forgotten about. It was long, and definitely elegant with its long train, and delicate lace bodice. She pulled it from its plastic covering and draped it over one arm, looking it over wistfully. Good Lord! she sighed finally, You can't wear that dress . .. what's the matter with you.' But even as she tried to return it to its place in the closet, something stayed her arm. She pulled it back, holding it out at arm's length this time, turning it around to look at the back, knowing that she was going to go through with it. Why not? It's a perfectly good dress.. . And I've only worn it once. . . Besides, considering the circumstances, it's downright appropriate! And even as she thought it, she was aware of yet another sensation -- that of her clitoris peeping hotly from its tender pink nestling place in thrilling erection. Yes, her brain sang, this is the dress!
Quickly now, the petite young housewife draped the long white dress over the edge of the bed and sat down at her vanity. With trembling hands, she began to apply her make-up, trying unsuccessfully to make herself look as bitchy as possible, but winding up only making a mockery of her innocence. The glossy peach-colored lip stick, the too heavily applied smoke eyeshadow, the almost caked-on mascara; all blended to make her look like a little girl experimenting with her mother's make-up. Only her shoulder length auburn hair, brushed to a healthy glow and cascading freely from a simple center part saved her from looking like a common whore. Her excitement by now was so great that she had to apply her eye liner three times before she felt she had it right. Her naked nipples swelled stiffly from their surrounding pink areolas, while below, the tender inner flesh of her pussy seemed almost to drip into the nap of the vanity bench she was sitting on. Time and time again, she rubbed her thighs, unconsciously together, only vaguely aware of the changes coming over her body. The tingling all-over glow she felt, she attributed to the liquor and the needle spray of the shower. "There," she said, finishing, "I reckon that will do!" Then, almost as an afterthought, she salvaged from her jewelry box the rhinestone earrings she'd worn for Marc the last night he was home, and fastened them quickly on her ears. "Bitch!" she smiled, blowing her reflection in the mirror a kiss. "Beautiful sexy bitch!"
Her breathing was rapid now, as she got to her feet and began to rifle through the dresser drawers, selecting the undergarments she would wear. Black! That was her color. Her undergarments had to be black! "There!" she said, pulling a black lace half-bra from the drawer. Then, "Oh shit, it's too small. . . One of last year's ... only a C cup!" Laying it down on top of the dresser, she continued to search through the drawer, then stopped suddenly, a smile crossing her lips as she looked down at her soft-mounded white breasts hanging freely below her bent torso. Why not? her mind snapped. Straightening quickly, she placed her hands below the voluptuous swell of her breasts and raised them thoughtfully. She stared in momentary fascination at the tiny blue veins showing delicately through the translucent flesh, then hurriedly slipped into the old black half-bra. "My, what a big girl you are!" she laughed at the way her breasts billowed up above the too-small brassiere, fully half of her nipples showing. "Panties?" she said, holding up a pair. "No, no panties ... Panty hose!" She tried another drawer. "Here we are ... nude.. . they'll have to do, I don't have much time!" She sat down on the edge of the bed and quickly put them on. "Shoes!" She went to the closet, selected a pair of silver platform sandals, and slipped them on. Oh God, there's the doorbell, and I still have to put on my dress!
"Come in and make yourself comfortable, Mr. Haag. I'll be out in a minute!"
Darryl Haag fidgeted nervously on the couch, in the heat of the midmoming sun filtering through the apartment-thin draperies of the living room. God almighty, what's keeping that little broad, anyway?
"Fix yourself a drink, Mr. Haag," she called cheerily from the bedroom.
A drink, my ass! he grumbled. What I need is a piece of that sweet pussy!
There was a brief pause, which nonetheless seemed an eternity to the obese club owner, then the sounds of rustling about in the bedroom, and the sound of the knob turning on the door.
"Well, Mr. Haag," Sherry said, entering the living room in a series of pirouettes. "What do you think?"
Darryl Haag was speechless. Not once in his forty-three years could he remember seeing anything quite so enchanting as the eighteen year old auburn-haired housewife who stood before him now . .. in her wedding dress!
"I'm sorry about the dress, Mr. Haag, but it's the only long one I own, and Audrey said I should wear a long one."
The fat man, his mouth agape, could only blink his pigish little eyes at her in mute reply.
"Well? ... Do I put on a record, or what?"
"T-Take off your clothes . .. slowly. The dress first," he managed:
No music?"
"Huh?"
More than a little pleased with her initial success, Sherry English smiled warmly at the dumbfounded fat man. He's so damned ugly, he's almost cute, she mused, reaching for the zipper at the back of the dress .. . like a baby wart-hog!
Darryl's balloon face lit up like a neon sign. So this high and mightly little bitch thinks this is some sort of joke, eh. . . Well, I guess we'd better straighten out her wagon right now! "Wipe that goddamn smile off your face!" he commanded coldly.
"W--What?" Sherry stammered defensively. "I thought I was supposed to ..."
"Just do as I say, I'm calling the shots here!" . Sherry's ears burned in confused embarrassment. Who the hell does that fat bastard think he is? "Listen, Mr. Haag, if you think ..."
"You ever have a job interview before?"
"Well certainly, but..."
"Did you call the shots?"
"No, I guess I didn't."
"Well, then we'll just do it my way, if that's okay with you. Sexy smiles are fine on stage, Mrs. English, but they ain't got no place in an audition. What I wanna see, girl, is a whole lot less talk, and a lot more you!"
Sherry was stunned. At once, she felt the urge to tell him to get the hell out of her apartment.. . and yet, she really did want to take her clothes off for him. She didn't consider herself an exhibitionist or anything .. . just curious. No one but Marc had ever seen her with her clothes off before, and she was.. . curious what he would think of her body. "W-What do you want me to do, Mr, Haag?"
"Walk around the room with a little taste .. . peel that dress down to your waist, so I can see your titties -- see if they's real. . . and act h'ke you ain't been getting any for awhile."
Well, Sherry mused, closing her eyes, at least that part will be easy enough.
She nodded her head acquiescently without opening her eyes, and thus did not see the look of gloating on Darryl's piggish face. He stared at the ripe contours of her body only partially hidden by the white satin and lace wedding dress, and ran his drooling tongue over his puffy lips with great relish.
"Move!"
From one end of the room to the other she walked, in time to an imaginary rhythm somewhere in the back of her mind that she had always associated with strip routines. She tried not to look at the suddenly frightening fat man in the eye, but rather pretended she was actually performing before an audience. Naturally, almost nonchalantly, she shrugged her arms and upper torso free of the bodice of her dress, feigned a yawn as if she were preparing for bed, then bent forward slightly from the waist, so that her pushed-up breasts seemed to leap at her "audience."
"Good, Mrs. English," she heard the fat man sigh appreciatively, "Very good!"
Fortified now by his compliment and her own determination to see it through, Sherry straightened, turned her back to the owner of the "Little Mexico", bent over again and then very slowly raised the hem of her dress up in back until the lower halves of her nylon covered ass-cheeks peeked out provocatively below. Oddly, the very unprompted posture engendered a subtle but persistent thrill deep within her abdomen -- a very sexual thrill.
"Now," Haag chortled lasciviously, his hand dropping down to his trouser leg to straighten his uncomfortably rising cock beneath the stained material of his trousers, "take off the dress!"
Refusing to think about what she was doing, Sherry lifted the hem of the dress up over her head as she turned to face her prospective boss once again, shamelessly submitting to his inspection. Yet, the very act of willfully responding to his instructions was thrilling to her in a way she did not fully understand. It was similar to the way she had felt when Marc had been so callous with her that last night - only more so.
Darryl's eyes were almost glowing now as he watched the delicate white dress shimmer down over her luscious body to puddle around her slender ankles. His eyes raked up and down the lust-inciting curves and hollows of her body, making note of the ridiculously right brassiere and the nearly nonexistent film of her panty hose which clearly showed the tangled red curls of her pubic hair at the juncture of her firm-fleshed white thighs. "Now take off your brassiere," he chortled, nearly gagging on his own mounting excitement. "And do it slowly, I want to enjoy it." *
Slowly, obediently, Sherry drew her graceful arms behind her back, causing her proud full breasts to protrude even further from the too-small black half-bra, and unfastened the straps. The lacy black strip of material hung loosely to the alabaster mounds for a moment before she hunched her shoulders together and let it slip off altogether.
Darryl Haag emitted an audible gasp in lustful appreciation. Christ! Her firmly rising young breasts were even better than he had anticipated. Round and firm and fully packed, he thought lewdly. And the nipples were already spiked out in the familiar indication of sexual arousal -- fully the size of cigarette filters! He motioned her over to him. "Bend down here and let me have a feel," he said. "I don't want any of them damned silicone jobs working my show."
"They're real enough," she shrugged resignedly, bending as ordered to allow him his feel.
He reached out with thumbs and forefingers, rolling the lushly swollen nipples between them as if he were inspecting fine silk. She cringed her breasts away from his touch and had begun to draw back when she apparently saw the look of warning on his face. Her shoulders slumped in resignation. It wasn't that she didn't like it... it was just a reflex action on her part, for actually she rather enjoyed the feel of his pudgy little fingers on her tingling breasts. Then, as she bent over slavishly before him, she noticed the startlingly thick length of his penis outlined against the thin cotton material of his summer slacks . . . and the small dark ring of semen moistening them.
"L-Listen, Mr. Haag, she said, "I think that's enough, don't you?"
"I'll tell you when it's enough, Mrs. English, From the looks of this nipple, you don't seem to be in any pain."
Then, unexpectedly, his little tongue slithered out to tickle the very tip of one nipple.
"Mr. Haag, please!"
"What's the matter, darlin', don't you enjoy it?"
Her face grimaced tearfully, her teeth raking her bottom lip. "Y-Yes, yes I do," she admitted, "but we can't... I mean .. . l-let me finish!".
"Very well then," he said, releasing her. "You may continue."
The frustrated teenage bride of Marc English stood before the obscenely fat man once again, her head pounding in confusion, her legs trembling and weak with mounting excitement that she didn't want. Wearing only the panty hose and platform sandals now, she turned her back to him again, nearly losing her balance, and bent forward from the waist so that her firmly sculpted young buttocks strained toward his perverted gaze through the mesh of the thin nylon panty hose. At the juncture of her thighs, she again felt wet.. . wet and hot, all at the same time.
"Absolutely lovely, Sherry ... you don't mind if I call you Sherry, do you?"
"Well, 'Mrs. English' sounds a little formal under the circumstances, doesn't it?"
"I reckon so, dearie. Why don't you peel those panty hose down over that lovely little ass, now!"
Sherry knew now how a terrified female slave must feel when hauled before a cruel and sadistic master -- yet, the only thing she really had to fear was her own reactions. With the removal of each new garment, she felt a growth of shame and helplessness.. . and a deep, unfathomable excitement. What she was doing violated every concept of morality that had been instilled in her since childhood, yet she seemed driven to continue by some deeper source of influence. / must please this man , .. / want to please this man!
There was a low groan of lusty appreciation from Darryl Haag as he watched the petite auburn-haired teenager timorously turn her back towards him once again. His stiffened cock surged relentlessly in his trousers as he stared at the smoothly rounded mounds of her almost naked buttocks.
"Roll the panty hose down slowly, like you would it you were on stage, Sherry," he bade her, "and then bend over and grab your ankles."
Torn by the battle waging inside her, Sherry obeyed his instructions. Slowly, she rolled the panty hose down over her dimpled ass-cheeks, stopping at a point just above mid-thigh. Then, with her own excitement mounting out of control, she dropped her hands to her trim ankles and gripped them tightly. "L-like this, Mr. Haag?"
"Perfect, Sherry," Darryl replied, rising strenuously from the couch, "Now, just hold it like that!"
A sharp thrill of apprehension trilled up
Sherry's spine as she realized that the fat man had risen from the couch and was approaching her. In the dim light filtering through the living room drapes, closed to keep out the heat, she could see his monstrous shadow engulfing her own. Then, his pudgy hands were touching her naked buttocks, caressing them gently. "You have a beautiful ass, Mrs. English," he soothed against her reflexive flinch, "very nice and very smooth."
Sherry drew her stockinged knees together protectively, fighting the urge to melt right back into his gently probing fingers. "I--I'm glad you like it, Mr. Haag," she mewed meekly from her strained position.
Her heart pounded furiously in her chest as his hands crept up to her slender waist, paused momentarily to squeeze its trimness appreciatively, then continued up her sides, dipping down beneath her jackknifed body to squeeze and milk her dangling white breasts. Then, subtly, she felt the faint whisper of semen dampened cloth against the cheek of one naked buttock as he pressed his bloated penis against it. Oh God, her mind reeled hopelessly, /--/ can't be doing this . . . I'm a married woman! Still, she remained glued to her spot, unable to move, held by some mysterious force that simultaneously excited and terrified her.
Darryl Haag continued his greedy fondling of her increasingly receptive young body. Goddamn! he drooled, adjusting his cock so that it pressed stiffly into the crevice between her tender ass-cheeks. This little girl is trembling like a new foal. .. but damn if she ain't letting me have my way! Inhaling the aura of her fresh womanliness, he weighed her breasts in his meaty palms before dropping them to slither his hands back to the flat but pliant plane of her abdomen. Tenderly, he squeezed the supple flesh of her belly, feeling it ridge and bunch between his fat stubby fingers.
"P-Please stop, Mr. Haag," she pleaded suddenly. "We can't d-do this!" But even as she spoke, her slender hips hunched back involuntarily beneath the overhanging flab of his stomach to rub against the thickness of his swollen cock.
"Why not, Sherry?" he mocked her, his hand dropping to the passion-moistened slit between her legs. "You're sopping wet down here!"
Oh God! she recoiled against the truth of his statement. Then, she felt a single thick and wiggly finger enter her pussy.
"See what I mean, girl? Why it went in as easy as you please!"
Oh, Marc . , . Marc! If anything happens. . . it's all your fault.. . you and your damned career.. . I didn't want this., . you made me... "Do it, Mr. Haag ... please!"
"You want it bad, girl?"
"Oh yes, yes! I need it!"
"Bad enough to do a little something for me first?" he laughed openly.
Oh God, what could he possibly have in mind?
Darryl ground his middle finger into her pussy from behind with increased vigor, feeling it yield and cling as he thrust roughly in and out, in and out...
"Answer me!"
"W-What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to suck me awhile first."
No, no, no, no, no! her mind rebelled, committing adultery was bad enough ... but what he was asking her to do was unspeakably abhorrent to her. But then, something else flooded her confused mind, adding to the pressure pounding in her temples -- something Marc had said his last night home - "What would you like to see him do to me, Marc?".. . "Sexy things... dirty things!"
"Do you want a fucking or not?"
Sherry could feel his pudgy finger twirling viciously deep in her vagina now, bringing an even sharper edge to her considerable excitement. Her trim buttocks hunched and rubbed back against the lump in his slacks at a frenzied pace. Oh God, what could she do, she wondered, letting go of her ankles and bracing herself with her hands against the floor for greater support.
"I-I can't do that, Mr. Haag. I've never done anything like that before .:. not even for my husband."
"It's time you leaned then, child. That is, if you want to get this pretty little pussy of yours good and fucked!"
Oh, Marc . . . what have you done to me? I-I feel like a. .. whore! Her nipples beneath her dangling breasts swelled to an almost painful hardness. Her skin felt prickly and sensitive all over. Her face, hidden in the cascading wealth of her auburn hair, reddened in embarrassment.. . and passion. She was more than naked ... she was soul naked. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. Marc had destroyed any faith she might ever have had in the marital institution. Any semblance of morality she might have had left was shattered when she begged the fat man to fuck her. She wondered what the girls in choir practice at Kennedy High School would say if they could see her now, bent over like a bitch dog in heat before this horrible fat man ...
"Well, Sherry ..."
"Y-Yes, okay... I'll try!" Sherry gasped, stunned by her own response. Maybe he was only testing her. That was it, a test! He didn't really expect her to do it, he just wanted to see if she would obey instructions. He would stop her before she actually started to do it... she hoped.
His enormous presence left her then, backing stumblingly on his club foot to the couch. She straightened just as the couch creaked and groaned under his gross weight. Then, turning, she emitted a small gasp as she watched him fumble with the zipper of his fly beneath the enormous overhang of his stomach. "Well, don't just stand there," he coughed impatiently, "give me a hand!"
"I-I..."
"Get your ass down here and help me with this goddamn zipper!"
Sherry was fighting panic again as she knelt before the obscenely sprawled fat man. And worse, he had an odor of perspiration about him that stung her nostrils. This is crazy . . . why am I doing this? she thought as her hand reached out to help him with his fly. But, with a sudden burst of insight into her own nature, she realized she wanted to see this man's penis, compare it to Marc's, hold it...
Finally, the zipper came down.
"Well, Sherry, why don't you see what your new friend looks like!" he cackled above her.
She didn't even pause to look up at him, as her hands, trembling with excitement, parted the gap in his boxer shorts to reach inside. Her fingers circled the lust-hardened girth of his penis. It was thick -- not very long, but very, very thick - and it felt stiff and spongy all at the same time. And greasy, or was it sweating like the rest of him? Something sticky seemed to be leaking from the tiny slit in the end of it. Had he cum already?
"Come on, pull the goddamn thing out!"
Suddenly, it burst into freedom, it's awesome presence rocking the kneeling housewife back on her heels. My God! she panicked, he's not as long as Marc .. . but it must be as thick as my wrist.. . and red as an apple . .. a big shiny apple!
The fat man was perspiring heavily now as he stared gleefully down at the awe-struck teenager kneeling slavishly between his parted thighs. Then, in disbelief, he watched her lean forward again, once more encircling his heavy member as best she could in her slender hand. Her fingers felt cool and soothing as timidly she began to peel the thin foreskin back and forth over its pulsating length as if she were afraid of it. "Well," his voice permeated the sudden cloud that had engulfed her, "what do you think of your new friend?"
"I--It's ugly ... and beautiful!" she choked.
"Kiss it, Sherry. Wet your luscious red lips and kiss his head."
With a sudden feeling of desperation, Sherry abruptly knew that this wasn't a test after all. He really did want her to do this horrible, perverted thing ... and worse, she wanted to!
Eagerly, she leaned her face toward the fat man's cock and kissed it tenderly, not forgetting to lick her lips enroute. Her h'ps parted, and her tongue darted out of its own volition to draw the pearls of male pre-cum from the fat man's circumsized glans, like a hummingbird taking nectar from a honeysuckle. It had a peculiar flavor ... pungent, but interesting. Without being told, she twirled her tongue lovingly around the blood-swollen head. Oh, this so wicked.. . I love it!
"Now take it into your mouth!"
The total helplessness of the situation caused a masochistic thrill to course up Sherry's spine. She paused momentarily to study "her prospective employer's huge cock with an almost worshipful smile crossing her h'ps. "Yes, sir," she cooed, "you're calling the shots!"
Moisture filled her mouth as her saliva glands began to function in anticipation of the delightful task she was about to perform. Her only regret now, being that her handsome cheating young husband wasn't there to watch. If Marc wanted her to be a whore, then a whore she was going to be! Quickly, she slipped her lush, lipsticked lips over the fat man's seeping red penis.
Darryl stared down with lewd delight at the laboring slip of a girl sucking so delectably on his aching rod of flesh. A real natural, this kid! he sighed appreciatively, I'm sure the rest of the gang is going to love this number. He wound his fleshy fingers into her soft auburn hair and pulled her unresisting face downward. "How do you like your first taste of cock, Sherry?" he said.
Sherry could only grunt her approval, as stuffed as her mouth was with lust-hardened male flesh. She was loving every second of it, the knowledge that she was performing the forbidden firing her senses to an extraordinary degree. Yet, she was still torn with decision -- namely, did she let him cum in her mouth ... or did she try to get him to fuck her like he'd promised? Finally, she decided to let him call that shot too . . . even if he did choose to shoot his sperm into her mouth -- God, wouldn 't that be heavenly? -- he could always make love to her later.
Darryl began shoving forward ever more forcefully, raising his sweaty buttocks high off the couch and thrusting with all his strength. He held her bobbing head tighter as she coughed and sputtered delightedly with each powerful instroke, and the swollen head of his cock fucked rhythmically back against her tonsils. He delighted in watching her tender, red-rimmed lips clasping eagerly around his blue-veined shaft as her mouth muscles wearied and her warmly ovalled cavity became accustomed to the unnatural invasion. "Suck it, Sherry, darlin', suck that fat cock of mine!"
Sherry no longer felt any sense of guilt over her infidelity, and secretly, subconsciously, she was almost glad that Marc had violated their marital vows. Over and over she wondered what he would do if he could see her sucking this big cock .. . and loving it, too! She licked and sucked at the fleshy member embedded in her mouth, creating a vacuum of lust that brought a low moan of delight from the fat man. She was salivating so much now that the cock slicked in and out almost effortlessly, and tiny rivulets of drool leaked from the corners of her tightly ovalled lips to run down the stalk and into his matted brown pubic hair. She sucked until her throat muscles ached with the strain, while below, she rocked the dripping slit of her vagina back and forth against the hard heel of her silver sandal, letting it rub against her clitoris like a substitute cock. She licked around the head, using her tongue, her teeth . . . acting automatically now, knowing by the grunts and low animal groans what was pleasurable to the obese club owner and what was not.
"My balls too," he gasped, "lick my balls!" Obedient to his every whim now, the excitable teenage housewife raised her head from his pulsating cock for a moment to pay her tongue-felt homage to his hair-covered scrotum, while behind her, the heel of her shoe continued to rub in the desire-drenched slit of her pussy.
"Oh, Christ!" he bellowed suddenly, "if you don't stop, I won't be able to fuck you, girl!"
Somewhat reluctantly, Sherry pulled her lapping tongue back into her mouth, darting the tip into the corners of her lips to savor the tang of precoital secretions that had accumulated there. "You can cum in my mouth if you want," she said thoughtfully, "really, I don't mind."
"Go wash all that garbage off your face, then come back here and let me fuck you. I want you looking fresh and innocent when I pop it into that tight little pussy of yours. Cheap-looking broads I can buy on the street."
"But..."
"Move..."
Struggling to her feet, the excited young bride hastened to the bathroom to scrub her face clean of all the make-up she'd applied for her "job interview" a seeming couple of years in the process. When she returned, the shining picture of health, she discovered that the fat man had used the time to remove his own clothing. With a gasp that bordered on horror, she realized for the first time the enormity ... the utter obesity of the man.
Contrary to the pinkish cast to his facial flesh, the mountain of rolling flab that composed Darryl Haag's exposed stomach and lower extremities was a fish-belly gray -- an abominable spectacle ending in the rigidly upright chunk of his snarling red penis. And above the larger blob-like mound of lard that quivered creakingly in its sprawled position on the couch, the' smaller one that was his face, blinked and smiled at her menacingly. "You'd better climb on top, sugar." He gave her a saccharine smile. "We don't want you to get crushed, now do we?"
"Oh my God!" her lips formed silently, as she glanced nervously to the heap of his soiled gabardine slacks piled carelessly on the coffee table and back again to the gagging reality of his body. Yet, even as she hesitated, her body began to betray her once again, her feet carrying her forward, then pausing as she stripped off her last remaining garments -- her panty hose and silver sandals. He reminded her of a huge boiled pork roast. But hungry beyond reason now for his hard thick cock, she mounted his quivering bulk, resting one knee on the sofa and swinging her other leg up and over as if she were mounting a horse.
"Now ease down real slow-like, Sherry . .. take your time ... that's it... see how good it feels sliding up inside you . .. How do yon like fucking a fat man?"
"T-I &e it," she smiled, half-swooning. God, it felt good! She could feel the huge bulbous head searching its way in between her pubic hair and swollen cuntal lips, pressuring harder and harder up between her trembling legs, deep into the warm moist passage of her vagina.
Taking the initiative, Sherry cradled his puffy face in her hands and kissed him passionately, her tongue seeking and finding his in a macabre duel of lust. She was nothing but a cheap little whore now, and she knew it ... oh how deliciously she knew it! His hotly throbbing penis was thrust deep in her tight little pussy now, there was no going back, she was committing adultery . . . and wallowing in every second of it... just as she felt like she was wallowing in a tub of pig fat from the way his quivering, muscleless belly slid around beneath her slender form. A thin layer of perspiration formed between their closely pressed bodies, magnified by the summer heat, and adding to the exciting feeling of depravity on her part. She hunched up and down on him in a slow and deliberate tempo, flexing her vaginal muscles like a milking machine, yet slow enough to make it last... more than anything, she wanted it to last. She was committing adultery! ADULTERY!
"How is it now, Mr. Haag?" she cooed tenderly, nipping at his ears. "Am I as tight as you expected?"
"T-Tighter!" he blurted out, half-crazy with hist for this sweet young Navy bride who'd never had another man but her husband.
"Aw, c'mon! I'll bet you say that tQ all the girls."
There was no way to describe the sensations coursing through Sherry's body at that moment, as she continued to squirm on top of the slug-like creature beneath her. The only thing she could be sure of, was that she felt like she didn't ever want to do anything else again in her life. This was it -- nirvana.
Darryl grunted and groaned, then began ramming up between her wide-stretched legs with short powerful strokes, gradually increasing its depth until his entire hard-tensed length was stuffed up into her lust-moistened vaginal cavern with the huge head crushing the tender inner flesh that seeped in on it from the sides. The sweat beaded on his forehead and ran down the fatty folds of his face and neck until he felt like he was about to pass out. His balls churned and twitched expectantly, and the girl above him seemed to be trying to melt right into him.
"Ooooh yesss!" she hissed. "Fuck me- like that, Mr. Haag. Hurt me if you can!"
She was being transported to ever increasing heights of passion now, a passion she'd known only once with Marc, as her mind began to function in obscene rhythm with her heaving pelvis. She wished her unfaithful husband could see her now.. . and -the girls in choir practice .. . and her self-righteous mother. Yes! What would mother, dear sweet mother, think if she could see me right now fucking a man older than daddy!
Oh God! It was too much. .. "I-I'm cummmmiiinngg, Mr. Haaaaggg!"
"Keep fucking, dearie. I've got a ways to go yet!"
Great quivers began to shake in the jellyish mountain of flesh that was Darryl Haag's belly then, as he felt the first initial tremors of his own release building deep in his sperm-inflated testicles. But even before he reached his own desperately sought release, he felt the girl above him tense and relax spasmodically in an instant replay of the climax she'd reached only seconds earlier. "Oh God, I'M GUMMING AGAIN! Aaauuuggghhh!"
He was there then, his stiff red penis squirting powerfully into the creaming girl's clasping pussy. "Your cunt feels like it's on fire, girl!"
"Itis, ohGod, itISSSSS!"
Darryl pounded into her in a fury that would have shamed a man half his age. He pulled her to him tightly, and sucked and chewed on the breasts dangling in his face. He bit her nipples aid slapped her naked ass. He called her pig and bitch and slut. And she kept cumming and ramming and cumming .. .
Then, finally, undeniably, it was over, and . Sherry, virtually exhausted, relaxed forward agaist the flushed expanse of his stomach, her fingers twining thoughtfully in the sparse hairs she found on what should have been his chest. Will I have to fight the other girls over you, Mr. Haag?" she said.
;'Oh, you'll get your turn," he teased. "Maybe even with a few friends of mine. Hate to let a good tail go untold!"
She craned her lips up to his and softly kissed her new boss. "I'm sure you'll find me a very conscientious employee, Mr. Haag."
Chapter Seven
"I just wish there were some way I could thank you, Audrey," the young auburn-haired Navy wife giggled surreptitiously over her drink, a brandy apricot frappe, almost as if she were still afraid of discovery.
"I got three hundred bucks for your pretty little ass," the tall blonde returned brightly, "that's thanks aplenty!"
"No, I'm serious, Audrey. You've really been swell about... about everything. Teaching me how to be a foxy lady, makeup, clothes - even my stage name!"
Audrey Henderson took a long, refreshing sip of her Metaxa mist, and leveled her eyes at Sherry's beaming face, thoughtfully. Spanish Sherry fits you to a tee," she said. "Besides, you look fabulous in black lace, blue eyes or not!"
"Yeah, I guess so," the young redhead returned unself-consciously. "Black's always been my color."
Audrey smiled indulgently, then averted her eyes to the clock behind the bar that lined the back wall of the theater. "It's eight-thirty, Sherry. Better finish your drink so we can go on back and change. It's been a great first week for you and we don't want to spoil it by coming on late the last night of it, do we?"
Sherry sensed a certain crispness to her friend's tone that both saddened and irritated her. Audrey seemed such a self-assured and mature person that it bothered her more than a little to think that the reason for her friend's coolness of late could be jealousy. True, Sherry had been practically bringing down the house every night for the past week, but maybe that was just because she was the new girl, and the majority of customers were more or less regulars who liked to see a new face ... or whatever, now and then. Or maybe they liked her breasts or her buttocks or the way she pranced in time to the Spanish Harlem record that Audrey had picked out for Sherry's theme song. Oh, well, die sighed, maybe it will pass in time . . . I really would like to stay friends with her.
Hurriedly, Sherry downed her pre-show drink, did down from the barstool, and caught up to the older girl who was halfway'to the stage by then. "Thanks, Pete," she called back to the bartender. "Just put my drinks on my tab."
"I'll chalk 'em up to spillage," the balding barkeep returned lecherously. "You just show show enough of that Spanish ass of yours to give this old man something to think about when he goes home to mama tonight!"
"Sure, Pete, I'll do my best... Hey, Audrey, wait up!"
The fat man leaned back in his chair and entwined his fingers behind his head, smiling impishly at the frustrated ash-blonde standing before his desk. "You sound jealous, Audrey," he said.
"Who, me?" she returned nervously. "Not of that little bitch, I'm not!"
"Well then, what seems to be the problem, girl?"
"No problem, Darryl. I was just wondering when she was going to start pulling her own weight around here, that's all."
Darryl stood, and waddled over to the door. Opening it slightly, he peered out, then ducked his head back inside. "Pete's letting 'em in now," he said. "I think you'd better go to work."
"Listen, goddamn you. I'm not leaving until I find out when Sherry pulls her first trick!"
Darryl reopened the door, and shuffled quickly to one side. "If you pass a waitress on the way out, ask her to bring me a Black
Russian."
Audrey's face purpled with rage. There were actually tears brimming in her eyes. "If I walk ait that door without finding out, it'll be for keeps!"
A frown furrowed another crease in the fat of DarryFs face. "Say, you're really jealous, aren't you?"
"What if I am? Don't you think maybe I got a right to be? Headlining her. .. She was a fucking cherry almost, until I came along!"
Darryl stepped over to her and placed his arm affectionately around his best employee's shoulders. "Listen, kid," he said, lifting her chin with one meaty finger. "You're number one with me, and you know it."
"The hell I do!"
"We gave her the bill because she's new stuff, and even you got to admit she's got some pretty fine shit there. She's got a lot of class, too .. . since you've been helping her with her dothes and makeup. But with me you're still number one."
"Prove it!"
Darryl wiped a tear away from her eye with me tip of his thumb. "Tonight soon enough?"
"Who gets her?"
The fat man pivoted on his heels and ambled gracelessly back to his desk. Flinging open the lop drawer, he grabbed a handful of matchbook covers and threw them on the desk. "You decide."
Audrey blinked at him momentarily, not even looking at the heap of offers on the top of Dairyl's teak desk. "Archie Quinn," she said.
"Archie Quinn? ... Why?"
"I've got my reasons."
Darryl sat back down, reaching across the desk to fetch a cigar from a mahogany humidor. He looked up at Audrey's proudly defiant face, then bit the tip of the long black cigar in concentration. "Okay," he said. "Archie Quinn it is." He reached for the phone then, cradling the receiver between two of his chins as he lit his cigar.
"Who are you calling, Darryl?"
"Archie Quinn, goddamn it! The son-of-a-bitch sprained his ankle or something -- probably chasin' some goddamn little girl -- but he wants me to send her over to his place. He wants her bad."
"Let him have her, then."
"Hello, Archie? This is Darryl Haag. Fine, yeah. Listen, you know that new girl? Yeah, that's right, the one we call Spanish Sherry. Well, I've decided to let you have first crack at her... Okay, fine. But I'm telling you right now, I don't want her all bruised up like you did to Tokyo Rose that time, you understand? . .. Fuck your goddamn word, I mean what I'm sayin'! All right, I'll send her over in a cab as soon as the show's over ..."
"The Little Mexico is proud to present the newest addition to our show.. . Spanish Sherry!"
A stony silence permeated the crowd then, broken only by an occasional cough or, "Wait 'II ya see this'n, Joe!" The theater lights dimmed to a final, inky darkness. Then, in whispering silence, the curtains parted and a solitary figure stole its way to center stage. The haunting lyrics of Spanish Harlem began to filter softly over the public address system. The lights came back up slowly, stopping at candle-brightness, where a looming red spotlight took its place, centering on the provocatively attired figure on stage.
A tiny tremor of anticipatory excitement coursed up Sherry's spine. What was everyone telling her these days?.. . Oh, yeah .. . that she was a natural!
Whistles and catcalls ripped through the expanse of the theater until the fat man off-stage came close to calling the riot squad. He'd never had a girl become so popular before in so short a time . . . not even Audrey. But he knew why. Sherry English breathed sex, the sheer joy of what she was doing onstage communicated itself to her audience as clearly as bells announce it's Sunday morning. That's where she differed from Audrey. Audrey conveyed sex too, but always with a price tag. Sherry conveyed sex because she loved sex. God, did she ever! It was as if she were making up for all those years of ripening adolescence when her parents had forbade her to see boys. Sex was naughty and wicked and oh so wonderful!
She was dressed in a flowing Spanish lace gown of midnight black that reached below her ankles yet revealed more by mere suggestion than absolute nakedness itself. The contrasting white columns of her untanned legs glimmered through the high-slit opening in the weave like glittering snowflakes. The low-cut bodice and special support brassiere squeezed her already more than ample breasts up high and tightly together until they looked as if they might pop' completely and lewdly free at any given moment. The only other thing she wore was her shoes - stack-heeled black patent pumps with a knee-high network of delicate, silver-buckled straps. In her dark auburn hair, brushed full and flowing, a high Spanish comb crowned her alabaster beauty. Every cock in the house -- and a few clitorises, too -- rose to rapid erection.
"That's going to be a tough act to follow,"
Tokyo Rose teased the nervous brunette standing beside her offstage.
"You ain't bullshittin'," the dark-haired Lana lix returned. "That little bitch even gets me excited!"
"She may be struttin' to a different piper tomorrow, though," the lovely oriental girl rejoined. "I understand Darryl's got her all set for Archie baby ... at his place!"
"You mean limping to a different piper, don't you? That guy's got a prick like a circus pony."
"You're telling me? I've been at his house, remember?"
"We've all fucked the crazy bastard, Tokyo."
"Yeah, well, he's a whole lot crazier when he's at home . . . did you see the welts on my ass that time? I couldn't work for a week!"
"I'm hip, but wasn't that his friends' doing?"
"Some of it. That's the craziest bunch of people I ever saw. That's why I can't understand why Darryl's sending her over there."
"Maybe his friends won't be there."
"Yeah, I suppose not. It'll still be tough for a young kid like her."
The wings went silent then, as the music reached a crescendo, and the newest addition to Darryl Haag's stable of part-time prostitutes began to unfasten the long string of ebony buttons that ran the length of her gown in front. With a loving lewd wink at her audience that signaled her own mounting excitement, "Spanish Sherry" let the lacy black dress slip gracefully over her shoulder to fall in a heap on the floor at her feet. Then, standing before the silent, awe-struck audience in an almost imp erceptible little "G" string and the grotesquely shaping black lace support brassiere, she smiled lewdly and reached behind her back to unfasten the brassiere straps ...
"That kid's really got some titties, wouldn't you say, Tokyo?"
"Shhhhh!"
The panting audience began to stir restlessly then, as the bizarre brassiere slipped away, revealing Sherry's succulent pink-nippled breasts in all their proud glory. She lifted them up and jiggled them in lewd offering to her lusting watchers. "Kiss 'em!" someone yelled. "Kiss your titties!"
"What's this, Mr. Haag?" the young auburn-haired stripper asked curiously, accepting a folded slip of paper from her employer.
"An address," he returned with a smile, his eyes raking her naked loveliness as she sat in her dressing room. "One of my friends."
Sherry lay her bundle of gathered-up costume down hastily on the top of the makeup table and sat down on her vanity stool. "Archie Quinn? Who's he?"
"A very good customer, Sherry ^aby. And he wants you."
A thrilling little tremor began in Sherry's abdomen, an almost nauseous thrill of anticipation. It had been over a week now since she and Darryl had fucked in her living room, and she'd looked forward to meeting some of his so-called "friends."
"... 1004 East Baltimore Street. Am I supposed to go over there, or what?"
"There's a cab coming for you right now, so I suggest you change into your street clothes. Don't worry about coming back here tonight, he'll probably want you to stay overnight."
Again the lewd thrill. "Whatever you say, Mr. Haag," the red haired young Navy bride smiled breathlessly. "You're calling the shots."
Darryl pivoted on his club foot then, and started for the door.
"Mr.Haag?"
"Yes, Sherry?"
"I'll show him a real good time, honest I will!"
"I'm sure you will," he grinned lewdly.
Chapter Eight
It was only a short hop from the "Little Mexico" to Archie Quinn's house, but it gave Sherry time to mull over the situation and to decide she liked it. The excited eighteen year old, who, until a week ago had never even thought of being unfaithful to her sailor-husband, couldn't quite put her finger on the reason she felt as she did, but she did know, beyond any question of doubt, that she was infinitely thrilled by the mere thought of delivering herself to a man she'd never even seen before so that he could use her sexually in any manner he chose.
It was like all her adolescent masturbation fantasies come true. She was a woman now, made to be fucked -- by any and everybody she chose! And as the cab meandered through the glittering rain-slick streets, her hand crept half-consciously beneath the hem of her short leather skirt to rub and pinch the moistening flesh of her pussy through the thinly clinging nylon of her panties. What would this Archie
\whatever-his-nar.te-was be like? Would he be handsome? Would he be ugly? Would he have a long thick cock? What would he want her to do?
The taxi glided to a smooth halt in front of a crumbling turn-of-the-century brownstone. 'Ten-oh-four Bal-ti-more," the smiling young driver grinned poetically into the' rear-view mirror.
Sherry paid and got out; and then watched the tail-lights of the cab until they disappeared completely from view before she turned her attention to the house, and the mysteries that lay therein. She felt the sprinkling feel of the misting summer rain against her innocent face and an exhilirating flush passed over her ilne-boned features. The minute I step inside that door, she thought with a small tear in her eye, is the minute I become a real whore! And it's all Marc's fault!
"Here, let me have that wet coat," the chinless, leering older man offered graciously. "I'm Archibald Quinn.
Sherry blinked at him nervously. He was sort of creepy looking, like something that had crawled out from under a rock, and his faltering attempt to make himself look dashing in the nylon smoking jacket and red ascot, made him look like a foolish little boy playing rich bachelor.
"T-Thank you, Mr. Quinn. I'm Sherry English."
"Archie, my dear. Call me Archie."
He disappeared behind a door then, apparently hanging her outer garment up in the hall closet, then returned with the same plastic gleam in his eyes. "Spanish Sherry .. . and with blue eyes!"
"I'm not really Spanish," she said. "Mostly Welsh with some English and Scotch-Irish and a little bit of Norwegian."
"Which little bit?" he rejoined teasingly, turning on his heels.
Sherry followed his lurching form down into the sunken living room, noticing only then that he walked with a slight limp. She wondered if he weren't perhaps club-footed, like Darryl. "I sprained my foot," he cast back over his shoulder at her, almost as if he had read her mind. "Sit down anywhere you like ... drink?"
"Yes, please."
Taking a seat in an overstuffed chair at the opposite end of the room from an imposing Victorian fireplace, Sherry studied her surroundings while Archie shuffled off to the bar. It was huge, but in need of a little refurbishing. The once beautiful oriental rug on the oiled parquet flooring was faded, and there was evidence of chipping and waterstains in the plaster of the twelve foot ceiling. The furniture, too, like the chair she was sitting in was old, and however comfortable, in need of cleaning. The whole place had the dank smell of a museum.
"What do you think of my humble little abode?" Archie called from the bar, cheerfully.
"I--It's super," she replied graciously. "It reminds me of those places in the gothic novels where the new mistress meets her employer."
"Most of my friends think it's decadent."
How true, Sherry snickered under her breath.
Archie was standing before her then, with a glass of some greenish looking stuff in either hand. "Here we are, my dear," he said, extending one glass to her while sipping lightly at his own.
"What is it?" she queried suspiciously.
"Chartreuse. Or to be precise, the rare elixer vegital variety. It's made by a group of Carthusian Monks from something like 130 different herbs. Those of us who know it tend to be passionate about its qualities."
Sherry held her glass up to the light of the fireplace, checking its color as if she knew what she were doing. Then, pleased with its appearance, she took a moderately hearty sip. It tasted slightly bitter; then cool and a little sweet on her tongue. "It's strong ... but good!" she said, smacking her lips.
"Take it easy, dear. It's a formidable 136 proof."
"Really?"
Archie took a seat opposite her on the long sectional couch of only slightly more recent vintage than the chair she herself was sitting in. "Really!"
Sherry was pleased with her drink. It seemed even more exotic to her than the Brandy Apricot Frappes that Pete the bartender had turned her on to. It seemed like everybody was going out of their way to be nice to her these days, and it felt great to be treated like a grownup for a change, and not some snot-nosed teenager who couldn't handle herself. "I really do like your house," she smiled warmly at the balding man who ogled her openly from not more than ten feet away. "I'll bet it cost a small fortune, though!"
"Not a cent," he returned pleasantly. "It was left me by my father, Evan."
Archibald . .. Evan ... ? Such old-sounding names! Sherry mused thoughtfully, trying to guess how old Archie really was.
"Fifty-five last Saturday," the lecherously smiling older man supplied. "And never been married."
Sherry winced. He had to be a mind reader! "W-what do you do for a living?" she said by way of conversation.
"I receive a small annuity. More than enough to keep the house up, but I'm afraid it lapsed into its present state of disrepair when I was away a few years ago, and I've never gotten around to fixing it back up -- the downstairs, at any rate."
"Oh."
Archie continued to ogle the pretty auburn-haired housewife openly, his eyes passing frOm the crowning glory of her simply parted, flowing hair to the bulge of her excitingly large breasts beneath the primly tailored navy blue shirt she wore above the ultra-mini white leather skirt. He paused momentarily to feast on the parity hose covered expanse of her shapely lower thighs b e fore p assing on to the red crinkle-plastic of her knee-high boots. "You have lovely legs," he said flatteringly.
"T-thank you ... Archie."
His eyes returned to her face. Audrey had done much to improve Sherry's use of make-up. There was only the faintest hint of pale pink lipstick on her lips, a thoughtfully applied skip of eyeliner over her eyes, and the slightest whisper of blue eye shadow to accent her natural, healthily glowing complexion. Radiant! was the word that came to mind.
"How old are you, my dear?"
Sherry traced the rim of her glass thoughtfully with the tip of one finger. "How old do you think I am?"
That young, eh? he snickered inwardly, remembering a rule of thumb he'd learned early in life about coping with that reply coming from a woman concerning her age - Under twenty, add five years to what you really think; over thirty, subtract five. She looked about sixteen, excepting her breasts, but she'd have to be at least eighteen to work at the Little Mexico. He split the difference and added five. 'Twenty-two?"
Sherry smiled her obvious pleasure. "Eighteen!"
"You're kidding!" he replied indulgently. "Why, you carry yourself so maturely!"
"Flattery will get you everywhere!" she smiled responsively, then blushed as she remembered her reason for being there in the first place. "I-I mean ..."
Archie felt his penis stir slightly beneath his smoking jacket. She was a little frightened. Good! He liked that. "Would you like me to freshen that for you?" he asked, nodding toward her drink.
"P-please," she said meekly, glad that the subject had been changed. Oh God, I hope I can do it!
She stared at the older man's curving back as he plodded towards the bar on his injured foot, taking in the very aura of decadent wealth he seemed to radiate. She thought back to the time she and her cousin April had become interested in reincarnation, and with typical adolescent glee, used to try to pick out what people had been in their former lives by their features and manners. What would Archie Quinn have been? A lizard ... a weasel?
"T-thank you, Archie," she smiled timidly up to his smiling face, as he stood before her with the freshened drink. Then, as he continued to stand there, unblinking and unmoving, she felt a tremor of fear chill her spine. Nervously, she cast her eyes downward, staring blankly at the frayed cuffs of the slacks he wore beneath his smoker, and the scuffed toes of his slippers. "It... it's fine, Mr. Quinn. the drink, I mean."
Somewhat reluctantly, Archie withdrew to his chair. He had made his presence felt, that was the important thing. There would be time enough to scare her a little more when the booze had numbed her resistance and made it more challenging.
"Mr. Haag said you were a good friend of his," Sherry said suddenly.
"I think the word is customer, Sherry. But I am very good. Did he tell you about my penis?"
Sherry's jaw slackened in shock. Then, finding her wits, she drained half of her renewed drink in a single sip.
"It's extremely large," he continued calmly, savoring the cat-and-mouse situation to its fullest. "Long and very, very thick."
The liquid in Sherry's glass began to ripple to the shaking of her hands. Straighten up, goddamnit! she chided herself. He's a little �weird, but you can handle him. Hell, he's only a little bigger than you are!
"Sherry?"
"H-huh?"
"I thought Fd lost you there for a moment."
"I'm okay," she replied bravely, with a toss of her head. "Just a little tired, I guess. I had to work tonight."
Archie grinned at her, lewdly. "Not too tired to remember why you're here, I trust."
"Oh, no!" she blurted self-consciously. "I r-remember." She drained the final ounce from her glass.
"Why are you here?" he persisted cruelly.
"For you to ... fuck. "
He tipped his own glass then, his eyes never straying from her face as he drank. "Take off your clothes," he said, finishing. "I want to see what you look like naked."
An icy tremor of fear gripped the young wife's stomach then, even as she stood up hi response to his command. Yet, there was something else too, a certain indefinable tremor in her lower abdomen that bordered on nausea, but somehow thrilled her as well. Slowly, with the expertise she had acquired at the "Little Mexico" during the preceding week, the pretty teenage bride began to unbutton the front of her blouse. Archie watched her in silence, the only sounds those of the crackling fire and the gentle patter of rain on the windows.
"Well," she said, turning nakedly before him at last. "Do you like what you see?"
Archie studied her for a long moment over the rim of his glass before grunting his approval. Then, rising from his own seat on the couch, he walked over to the fireplace and began to stir the coals with a poker. "I think I liked you better with your boots on," he said matter-of-factly.
Obediently, Sherry sat back down and put her boots back on, cinching them tightly against the bare flesh of her legs. Crossing them provocatively, she had to admit the crinkle-finish red leather did look rather sexy against the milk-whiteness of her legs. And the first stirrings of sexual interest up between her thighs began to pique her own curiosity about him. She wondered if he could possibly be as big as he bragged ... and if he was, could she take it? Secretly, she felt it might be fun to try. There was something in his creepy brand of charm that titillated her ... down there. He was so decadent -- that was the perfect word -- so decadent and depraved sounding!
Archie returned to the couch. "Do you like fucking, my dear?"
Boy! she laughed inwardly, regaining some of her former courage. This guy gets right to the point! "Yes," she returned candidly, "very much, as a matter of fact."
"Have you done much?"
Her face reddened a little in embarrassment. "Only my husband and Mr. Haag. But they both say I'm pretty good at it."
"I'm sure you are," he smiled menacingly. "Do you like porno, too?"
"Like what?"
"Porno. Pornography."
"I--I've never really seen any," she admitted.
Archie could feel his balls churning in anticipation. Christ! This little bitch is practically a cherry! His eyes raked her lush nakedness, and he felt a few tiny beads of perspiration popping out. on his forehead. "Would you like to see some, Sherry?"
Sherry could feel the petal-like lips of her nakedly exposed vagina curl inward in lewd anticipation at his suggestion. Yes, she would like to see some pornography! She'd always had a yearning to see what pornography was like, but of course with parents like hers, and with Marc treating her like a child . ..
She nodded her head in acquiescence.
"Good, let's go upstairs to my little
"playroom', then!"
A delicious feeling of naughtiness swept over Sherry English as she mounted the stairs just ahead of Archie Quinn. She could almost feel his eyes on her naked undulating buttocks, like a butcher inspecting a prime fillet. Then, as they neared the top, his hands were touching her there, caressing with lingering delight, squeezing her pliant ass-cheeks with his steely, talon-like fingers.
"I like the way your ass moves when you walk, little girl," he gasped. "I'm going to fuck you till you go limp."
They reached the landing then, and stepping quickly around her, Archie produced a key from the pocket of his smoking jacket and hastily unlocked a massive wooden door. "I have an old woman who comes in to do the cleaning," he explained, "and I have a young fortune tied up in this room."
The first thing to strike Sherry's awe-struck eyes, was of course, the bed. It was enormous, and round, and covered with a rich-looking fur of some type. On trembling legs, she moved toward it, reaching down to touch its soothing softness with the tips of her fingers. "Tasmanian opossum," he smiled proudly, stepping behind her to caress the rounded whiteness of her proud young buttocks once again.
"I-it's beautiful!" she stammered. "So soft!"
His gripping fingers left her ass-cheeks then, sliding smoothly up her sides to the breasts that swayed invitingly beneath her slightly bent torso. "Like you, my pet."
A sudden thrilling wickedness passed through Sherry's nearly naked body then as she realized she was going to be fucked on this gorgeous bed. In a gesture of encouragement that she was only partly aware of, she eased her buttocks back against the straining length of Archie's penis which he had begun rubbing against the cheek of one satin-smooth buttock. Even through the material of his smoker, she could feel the massive hardness of his cock, and it both terrified and fascinated her. "Y-you can fuck me right now if you want!" she offered.
He released her then, walking around her to the head of the bed and folding down the spread. "Not right now, child," he said. "I still have a lot to show you." He took her hand by the wrist and rubbed her fingers across the gold sheets he had just bared. "Ever feel anything like these?"
My God! her mind exploded. They're so smooth, and cool. .. almost cold! "Are they satin?"
"Silk. Pure imported silk."
"God! They must be very expensive!"
"A king's ransom, my dear. And second-hand at that."
She blinked at him in uncertainty.
"I bought them from a genuine Arab sheik in Qatar," he continued. "He assured me that upwards of a thousand girls had already been fucked on them -- and most of them virgins. You, my dear, almost qualify to join that group!"
Oh my God! she screamed silently in horror.
H-he's insane!
Suddenly, he let go of her hand that he'd been pressing to the sheets, and she stood up straight, rubbing her wrist tenderly. "I didn't mean to frighten you, my dear," he grinned soothingly.
Sherry's knees felt as if they might buckle at any moment. She had never been so frightened of anyone or anything in her life. Her mind sought desperately for a way to escape her present situation.
"There's no way out, child," Quinn snickered evilly. 'The door is self-locking, and the room is soundproofed."
And my husband is ten thousand miles away! Defeated, the despairing young redhead sank down on the edge of the gold-sheeted bed and buried her face in her hands. Oh, Marc. . . Marc! I've been so selfish. .. I'm so ashamed of myself. .. why did you have to make me do this? Why?
Then, Archie was standing before her with another drink in his hand, extending the glass towards her threateningly. "The quickest way out of here," he leered, "is to cooperate fully. Do you understand?"
She nodded her head. God, what could he possibly want with me? I've already told him he could fuck me!
"Good. Now, about that pornography ..."
Sherry swallowed tightly as she accepted the goblet of greenish liquor. She downed it eagerly now, as he turned on his injured foot, limping gamely towards a wall-sized bookcase where she presumed he kept his collection of erotica. The Chartreuse burned against the lump rising in her throat, but it numbed and warmed her as well, and Sherry hoped it would be enough to see her through whatever ordeal might lie ahead.
"Here we are," she heard him chuckle from the far side of the room, "the illustrated works of the Marquis de Sade . .. Volume One."
She sighed deeply, lost in the helplessness of the situation, but thankful for the pounding in her temples that signaled that the liquor was at last beginning to at least take some effect. What is there to worry about? she smiled inwardly. Everybody down at the club knows where you are!
"The Marquis was an ardent sodomist, my dear. Have you ever been fucked in the ass?"
Sherry could only stare down at her shameful, and except for the clinging red plastic boots, complete nakedness. Her eyes drifted blurily to the thick, black wool carpeting that covered the floor and the remaining three walls of her plush prison. Above, the high ceiling was completely covered with mirrors adjusted at varying angles to accent the activities on the circular bed . ..
"I asked you a question, bitch!" .. . The room was large, perhaps twenty by twenty feet, the lighting coming from wall scounces ...
He was standing before her then, a large, exquisitely leather bound volume in his hand, a look of infinite rage on his face. "Answer me! Have you ever been fucked in the ass?"
"You're sick."
He tossed the book onto the bed then, his hand darting out in rage to grab her loosely flowing mane of auburn hair, forcing her head back while his other hand shot forward, slapping her viciously on either cheek. A look of unbridled lust crossed his grotesque features, the front of his smoker poling out lewdly in his mounting excitement.
"I-I'm sorry," she gasped meekly, -renewed fear knotting in her stomach, her own hand going up protectively to cover her face.
Archie's breath was becoming labored now, as he felt his balls churning in sadistic excitement. Viciously, lie yanked her head back even farther, as he leaned downwards, his lips locking against hers in a passionate, tongue-thrusting kiss.
Frightened beyond further resistance, Sherry permitted his slippery tongue into her mouth, allowing him to probe and suck on hers at will. Yet, even in her compromised position she felt the renewing of sensual arousal up between her red-booted legs. Her nipples began to stiffen, and her clitoris began to pulse wetly forward, making contact with the soft cool expanse of the gold silk sheets. Oh God, yes! I am a whore... bought and paid for.. .his to use as he likes.. . I Her thighs parted slightly, as she reached out to take his hand, guiding it to the rapidly moistening slit between her Tegs, urging his hard middle finger to drive deep inside her churning cunt, feeling the tender interior walls of her vagina parting and caressing its bony length. Whore, . . whore. . . whore!
Then abruptly he pulled away from her, and stripped quickly out of his trousers. "Roll over on your stomach," he instructed her flatly, "and read the book."
Sherry lay on her belly, her torso raised from the bed and braced by her elbows, her hands opening the leather bound volume he'd so hastily tossed beside her in his rage. Her full, high-set round breasts pressed forward, their pale pink nipples, hardened in her excitement, brushing the silken surface of the sheets mere inches from the book that was going to show her things she'd never seen before.
"Kneel up."
She got to her knees then, as all resistance melted from her body. In a way -- in some weird, unfathomable way -- the inexperienced eighteen year old was beginning to enjoy the rough treatment he was subjecting her to. She opened the book.
The mattress sagged then, as she felt his weight behind her on the bed, his knees straddling hers on either side. He ran his hands through her silken wealth of auburn hair, his eyes devouring the smooth, cream-white skin of her back that narrowed into the girlish waist, that flared out again into a enticing swell of her hips. Her tapered thighs were touching primly, and her lower legs were bent slightly at the knee so that he could feel the cool plastic boots rubbing against his own now naked inner thighs. He still wore his smoking jacket, but it was beginning to part around the rearing head of his now fully erect penis.
"Just look at the pictures, Sherry. I'll let you borrow the fucking book later if you want to read the words."
Sherry flipped a few pages until she came to a full-page drawing of a couple making love in the conventional manner. It was beautifully drawn in the style of the old masters, and she felt not in the least offended by it. It was almost pretty.
"They get more interesting as they go along," he cackled lewdly, looking at the picture over her shoulder. "I think somebody put that one in there for a joke."
She could feel his hands on her buttocks then, parting them slightly, and she could only pray that he would allow her enough time to prepare herself before trying what she feared most.. . fucking her in the anus. She flipped a few more pages. There was another full page illustration done in the same meticulous manner as the first, but infinitely more detailed. It was a couple performing a frenzied sixty-nine, and though she knew what it was, she'd never actually seen it before, even if this was only a drawing. The man's cock appeared to be embedded about halfway down the woman's throat, and the expression on her face was one of pure lust. Sherry couldn't help wondering if she hadn't perhaps looked something like that when she had sucked Darryl Haag's fat penis the week before.
"You ever suck cock before?" Archie purred behind her, his hands never ceasing their almost harsh squeezing of her tender ass-flesh.
"MMMHmmm!" she mewled fondly. "Mr. Haag's."
"Did you like it?"
"I loved it."
"Did he eat you?"
Sherry's eyes dropped to the portion of the picture that showed the man's tongue buried lewdly in the woman's vagina, and felt a respondent twitch in her own sex-starved loins. "No, he didn't."
"Why that selfish old fart."
She could feel his heavy breath on the upper halves of her buttocks then, kissing one cheek and then the other with almost fetishistic appreciation. "Your ass is so beautiful," he swooned. "Just made for sucking and fucking and spanking and all of life's pleasures."
She could feel goose pimples rising all over her tingling body then, as she continued to kneel slavishly before him, exposing her buttocks in their glistening whiteness to his every lewd whim. "I-I'm glad you like it," she stammered breathlessly.
She turned to another picture. This one, as she had feared, showed an act of sodomy between a very young girl and a lecherous looking individual in the garb of a laborer of the day. Again the painstaking attention to detail. Again the look of unbridled lust on the face of the young female.
Archie's tongue was into play now, tracking tiny concentric circles over the entire upper halves of her buttocks, occasionally dipping into the crevice that separated them. His hands gripped her upper thighs firmly, so that she felt as if she were trapped in a vise.
"A fascinating book, eh, my pet?"
The lovely teenage housewife could only grunt her agreement as, suddenly, she began to tremble with strange sensations, a wave of mixed emotions spreading through her . .. shame, humiliation and anger, blended with the irrepressable physical needs of her recently aroused body. Her loins tingled at his grotesquely reverent fondling of her buttocks, and though she did not hate or despise him for what he was doing, she held fast against complete, uncompromising surrender. His obvious lust frightened her still, repelled her, and the fact that he was virtually forcing his own peculiar tastes upon her caused rage and humiliation to seize simultaneous control of her body momentarily. Yet, she couldn't ignore the resurrected tingling sensations that he'd revived and sent racing vibrantly over her whole body as he continued to caress her firm white ass-cheeks.
"Turn the page! Turn the page!"
Christ, what a delicious creature! Archie thought. Of all the women he'd ever fucked, this little red-haired bitch was without a doubt the most beautiful, and the most desirable. Even Audrey Henderson and Darlene Thompson couldn't compare to the voluptuous innocence of this one. Her husband must be some kind of goddamn idiot to let her out of the house. A stupid, asshole fool!
Sherry's breath caught in her throat as Quinn massaged and kneaded, stroked and caressed her nakedly palpitating buttocks, pinching them and nipping lightly with his teeth at the tender flesh. Then she felt the worming hot wetness of his tongue again, burrowing deeply into her trembling nether cleft, licking from the bottom of the smooth white crevice all the way to the top, dipping almost imperceptibly into the hollows of her cunt and anus enroute. Hastily, die flipped forward a few pages in the book.
"That's a good one," she heard Archie chortle behind her. "What do you think of it?"
My God! she blinked disbelievingly, I-it's positively. . . obscene!
"What's the matter, girl? You never seen a girl sucking cock before?"
"Not a dog's, I haven't!"
"And how about the size of that guy's cock. .. the one that's fucking her in the ass. .. bet you've never seen a pecker like that before, either."
"Nobody could be that big!"
"Wanna bet?"
Then, without warning, he was doing it again, Ms tongue flickering out snake-like, lapping at ber helplessly exposed genitals from behind.
"God, what are you doing back there?" she wiggled delightedly back to his worming tongue, "It feels so ... so wicked/"
Slowly, deliberately, her paying lover spread the fleshy, hair-lined lips of her vagina apart with his thumbs. She could feel his breath hot against her there, and the scraping of his evening growth of whiskers against the tender inner flesh of her buttocks.
Sherry could only moan and twitch beneath him then, as his spearing tongue began to make flitting contact with the erectly throbbing little bud of her distended clitoris. It was absolutely electrifying to her, and he sensed the movement of her beautiful head, bobbing up and down as his tongue shot out again, its smoothly lapping tip circling the quivering, rigidity of her nerve center. He sucked, drawing the warm soft folds of her inner pussy lips into the hot cavern of his mouth, while his hands returned to their former vise-like grip on her upper thighs.
Oh Lord in heaven! She was lost... lost! Destroyed forever, and she knew it! She was nothing now but a dirty little slut who let complete strangers do things to her body that she wouldn't even permit her own husband to do!
She groaned huskily from deep in her throat while the probing tip of his tongue worked its way up and down the wetly secreting length of her pussy slit. The book was forgotten now, as she clenched her eyes tightly against the tumultuous upheaval in her naked loins. She felt his hands gripping her tighter, and his breath, coming hot and heavy, in short bursts against the moist interior softness of her cunt.
"Oh God!" she whimpered at the lewd depravity of her own rising animalism as he flicked his tongue out suddenly into the tightly puckered little opening of her anus. Again, she succumbed to the inevitable expression of his ardor for her loins, melting back against his lewdly sucking face, squirming onto his thick little tongue. Truly, he had aroused the wanton bitch in her! If there had been any shame or humiliation left in her it had been dissipated when he'd thrust his evil tongue into her asshole. She never wanted him to stop .. . never, never!
But stop he did, and as abruptly as he iiad begun he was releasing her, kneeling back on his haunches to catch his breath, seemingly oblivious to her constant mewling urges for him to continue, while her lovely moon-like ass-cheeks waved salaciously back at him. Then, quickly, he was on his feet, reaching around her to retrieve the lewd book before she could utter a further cry of protest. "Well," he began, "so much for French literature. I think it's time we flew on to the wonders of other cultures, don't you?"
"W-what do you mean? I don't understand."
He slapped her playfully on the rump. "You will, my dear. You will!" And with that, he crossed to the bookcase and replaced the volume in its chosen slot.
"A-are you going to fuck me now, Archie?"
He turned to face her, and she could only stare disbelievingly at the tent-like bulge poking out against the front of his smoking jacket. It was absolutely huge!
"In a moment, yes. But first, I have to complete our little tableau." he crossed to the door, unlocked it with the key, and shut it quietly behind him as he went out into the hall.
Sherry, numbed by now with sensation, could only remain in her obscene kneeling position for the short while Archie Quinn was out of the room. She had no idea of where he was going, or why, but she did know that she had to be fucked soon or die!
"Oh, God! Hurry!" she wept into the soft gold sheets beneath her face. "I've got to be fucked ... by someone!"
The key was turning in the lock then, as Sherry held her breath in anticipation, afraid now even to move.
"Sherry, I'd like you to meet Roscoe ..."
Chapter Nine
Sherry's eyes were actually glazed with horror as she stared transfixed at the image of the lecherous man in the lewdly tented smoker holding the end of a short heavy chain, the other end of which was fitted into the collar ring of an absolutely huge German shepherd. There was little doubt in her mind as to what was going to be expected of her, and even less doubt that she could do anything to prevent it. And, from the looks of the long, glistening red sausage of a cock standing out at erection from the sinewy loins of the dog's furry belly, he too was cognizant of the obscene events to come. To the terrified young girl cowering in the middle of the circular bed, the dog's swollen penis looked enormous, with a peculiarly menacing curve to it that seemed to enhance its frightening appearance. Remembering the lewd pictures she had just been looking at, Sherry asked, "I--Is he going to fuck me?" is the most she could handle.
"Not right, now, my sweet, maybe later though. I'm sure he'll be looking forward to that. Right, Roscoe?"
The big dog whined and strained forward against the restrictive chain in his efforts to reach the girl on the bed. Even from his hiding place in the adjacent guest room, he had been able to smell her rousing sexual attractions, and his eagerness now was proof of the state of his animalistic agitation.
"Roscoe's. a beautiful dog, isn't he, Sherry? I borrowed him from one of my Special Friends to entertain you tonight. Don't be put off by his fearsome appearance, he's very well trained and won't hurt you at all."
Not really wanting to know, the cringing young redhead stammered, "W--What am I supposed to do?"
"Blow him, of course. But we'll let you decide when that time will be."
Sherry blinked at him in confusion. "W--What do you mean, let me decide?"
"Just this, my dear," he chortled lewdly, approaching the golden bed from the other side. "I'll just fasten his chain to the leg of the bed like this ..." He did as he said. "And as you can see, he's still a foot or so short of reaching you."
Sherry recoiled in utter and complete terror, trying vainly to scramble to her feet before Archie could round the bed and force her back down in position, as the terrifying German shepherd leaped up on the bed towards her only! to be caught at the end of his short chain, mere inches from her helpless body. But Archie was too fast for her, and she was too frightened to put up an effective struggle as he twisted her arm viciously.behind her back, forcing her back down into her kneeling position on the bed. Then, as he drew her other arm behind her as well, she felt cold metal encircling one wrist, and then the other.
"Why are you handcuffing me?"
"Just part of my bag, sugar," he laughed hollowly, forcing her brutally downwards until her weight rested squarely on her rounded white shoulders, her chin propping her head up in the center of the bed. "Now, for that fucking!"
Tears of futility and shame filled the teenage housewife's china-blue eyes then, as she felt the bed sagging once again with the weight of the demented little man into whose clutches she had willingly walked. Roughly he pulled her red-booted legs apart and kneed his way in between her naked white thighs. Then, looking up into the multiple images on the ceiling, she could see him undoing the sash of his smoking jacket.
My God! she sucked in her breath, It's. .. it's absolutely monstrous! Her eyes locked on the reflected image of his massive erection now, even forgetting the terrifying spectacle of the dog panting in her face on the bed. She watched Archie skin the thick foreskin back down over the egg-sized, lust purpled head of his penis, then back up again in a lewd milking motion that caused a tiny drop of milky pre-cum to pool in the hollow at its blood-inflamed tip. It was long . .. longer than her husband Marc's by at least three full inches, and half-again as thick as Darryl Haag's! "Oh, God . , . no!"she moaned, burying her face into the cool silk of the sheets. "I-I can't!"
"Can't you, my dear?" the evil middle-aged man said behind her, as he began to rub the bloated penile head slowly up and down in her unprotected anal crevice. "Can't you?"
Mrs. Marc Thomas English Jr. wanted to die. "Please, Mr. Quinn ... let me go ... I'll, I'll give you money!"
Archie felt a ripple of sadistic delight in his dangling cum-swollen balls. "You give me money? That's a switch, isn't it?" he laughed hysterically. "But go ahead and beg if you want, it just gets me all the harder!"
A knot of fear twisted deep in Sherry's trembling belly. There was absolutely nothing on God's green earth she could do ... nothing!
"I think maybe we'll try some straight dog-style fucking first, just to get you in the proper mood. And then, Spanish Sherry, I'll show you a little trick I learned down in
Tijuana, Mexico, before you were even born!"
He bent down and kissed the goose pimpling flesh of her waist, and then she felt the bulbous, blood-engorged head moving up and down, parting the soft reddish pubic hair between the palpatating lips of her cunt, and suddenly the tiny petal-rimmed mouth of her throbbing vagina pressed outward. The tight elastic entrance resisted momentarily, and she held her breath as the pulsating cock-head pressed relentlessly forward, coughing suddenly from the pain of the hard cruel pressure.
Archie liked the mewling protests bubbling softly from his red-haired young captive's lips and, with a wicked grin twisting his face, he shoved a little harder, causing her to emit another long, low groan from deep within her throat.
"AAAaaauuuggghhh! Oh God . .. Archie, it hurts. . .it hurts!"
He grinned again, this time evilly, her agonizing pleas giving him a sadistic jolt of pleasure.
"OOOooohhh," she whimpered as the huge lust-bloated head pressured still more insistently against the moist but fear-tightened opening between her widespread thighs. And then the very tip slipped thickly inside, just beyond its angry red coronal rim, and she couldn't hold back her scream.
"Auugggh! Uuugghhh!" she cried. "Stop! My God, stop, stop!" Her heart was in her throat as she felt her thighs being split apart from the continual expanding of the tender outer lips of her pussy. He was too big! He was going to kill her!
Archie couldn't resist the excitement her wailing screams were bringing to him at the slow, relentless penetration of her snug little vagina, and again and again he flexed his hips to sink an inch at a time further up into her vainly protesting cunt, until suddenly, he could stand it no longer. He had to fuck her! He rammed forward with all the strength he could muster, dropping his weight down in a hunching crouch over her heaving white buttocks, reaching beneath her struggling body to maul and squeeze her ripely flattened breasts. He drove his bony hips into her white baby softness with the brutal force of a Bengal lancer, spiraling the tender walls of her pussy flesh in rippling waves before his cruelly advancing cock-flesh. There was no more holding back, as with a loud grunt, he felt his balls smack against the hair-covered mound of her pussy below.
"AAAuuuOOOooohhhggghhh! Y-You're ripping me apart!" Sherry wailed, screwing her shoulders down into the mattress. "You . .. youVe torn me wide open!"
She was completely filled with his hard-tensed member, the massive, throbbing shaft sunk to the very depths of her softly quivering belly .. . and beyond! God, it felt as if it were coming right up into her throat! She could feel every, wrinkle of the huge rod of wicked male flesh inside her, enclosed in the tight moist sheath of her own aching cunt. Oh, Marc. . . I'm so ashamed/
Suddenly, the obscenely skewered eighteen year old felt her tormentor beginning to move again and she sucked in her breath and held it in fear of what was to come next. He began to jerk on top of her, his hips flexing, the huge head of his penis burrowing deeper and deeper up between her wide-swept thighs.
"Oh ... Oh ... ! Please Archie ... I can't take any more .. . !" she begged, her shiny red knee-high boots beating a tattoo of futile protest on the gold, silk sheets. Then, she felt him raise his weight up off of her hunched-over buttocks slightly, his hands releasing her throbbing breasts to grip tightly around her narrow waist, his widespread knees forcing her's even farther apart, until his huge blood-filled cock-head slipped further up into her cunt to press painfully against the sensitive tip of her cervix. Then, slowly, he began to move in and out of her, picking her whole body helplessly back arid forth beneath him as he fucked with demonic fury into her groaning form.
Archie felt certain that no one before him had ever sunk a cock to the depths he had reached in Sherry's almost virginal young pussy. Christ, what a tight little cunt it was .. . practically a cherry, he thought as he held her down in the lewd and degrading position. Now, he looked down with sadistic satisfaction at the handcuffs biting into the tender flesh of her wrists, while she kept her face buried shamefully in the gold sheets for fear of having to look at the huge German shepherd now watching this obscene rear-fuck from the end of his chain.
Archie sensed his young victim's intrinsic horror with glee, as he continued to stare down at the point where their bodies were joined in lewd sexual union. He could see his own gray-sprinkled black pubic hair meshing with Sherry's sparse red curls, as the head of his thick, fleshy shaft tunneled deep into the glistening pink pussy slit that his tongue had nursed and sucked to a heated wet rapture only minutes before. He could see the tight lips of her cunt almost ripping as they stretched, the elasticized outer lips clasping tightly around the white-skinned base of his shaft like a hungrily sucking mouth.
He held her fast for a long moment, savoring the sensuous scene of her youthful beauty impaled helplessly on the end of his long thick penis. Christ, the mere sight of her lying there, handcuffed and hopelessly subjected to his any and every whim, brought the middle-aged little man to the verge of cumming. He could feel his heavy, lust-tightened balls churning with the pressure that was building inside of them. Damn the little bitch! He was going to give her a time she'd never forget!
Sherry lay frozen helplessly beneath her lover for the evening. She'd already come to the conclusion that there was absolutely no mercy whatsoever in the lecherous Archie Quinn, that to beg him to stop would only make things worse. How could she ever have entertained thoughts of letting him make love to her -- willingly? He'd become a sex-crazed monster, and there was little she could do but lie there slavishly beneath him and let him continue fucking until his degrading seed had spilled into her pussy or anus as he chose. The sudden hot pain of his brutal entry still tore cruelly at her tender belly, as his massive organ now moved in and out between her legs at a steady cadence. She began to flex her cuntal muscles tightly in an automatic attempt at resistance, and then was sorry, for the throb of her internal fibers only seemed to incite him further to drill his way yet deeper into her unwilling vagina. She felt her aching interior flesh cling reflexively to his cock like a cloth soaked in warm cream .. . and then the hard rubbery tip pushed at her cervix and helplessly she clenched her teeth against the pain and fought to endure his brutal assault.
"Oh, God! Archie. It hurts sooo much!" she moaned pitifully, but resignedly. "Not too fast... please!"
It surged in and out of her in an established rhythm that she quickly began adjusting to, the pain slowly lessening as her cuntal walls stretched and relaxed slightly in their attempt to accept him, until finally she could actually feel and enjoy the exciting sensation of his prickly pubic hair rubbing against her rising clitoris. She began to wiggle her buttocks back to him salaciously as the first sensations of desire began to return to her, little tingling chills thrilling up her spinal column, the blood pounding in her veins, her nipples once again distending to scrape the silken sheets with their sensitive tips.
And then, suddenly growing accustomed to the immense size of the cock skewering into her vagina from the rear, her body began to writhe and twitch beneath him, and she heard her own lips making small mewling noises of acceptance, an incessant sound that droned back to Roscoe's knowing ears, causing the German shepherd to resume his tortured whining. Sherry felt her cunt contract as the lascivious inner sensations fired her defenseless loins with Quinn's every unnaturally deep stroke.
Archie felt her- urgent, answering throbs around the length of his buried rod of flesh. Her wetly clasping cunt flesh had begun a vibrant opening and closing performance around his pulsating member, as her pleasurable mewings suddenly filled the room, and her head rolled from side to side on the sheets. Her hips had begun a slow sensuous rotation around the cock sunk so deeply in her soft white belly, and Archie clenched his teeth tightly together as he sensed her newly aroused pussy screwing itself up tighter against his hair-covered loins. At last, she was coming around!
"Oh, yesss! Like that! Fuck me! Fuck me long and deep!"
And then, cruelly, he began to slacken his pace, until finally he stopped altogether, his mammoth rod of lust-bloated penile flesh lying unmoving inside her hungering vaginal passage.
"Oh, God! Why are you stopping?" the hopelessly incited young housewife cried back to him, her hips raised up off the bed and still rotating frantically in the air. "Please fuck me ... please!"
"How bad do you want it, little girl?" Archie chortled lewdly, flexing his massive cock deeply inside her without moving it in or out. "... You want it bad enough to blow Roscoe?"
Sherry could barely comprehend the abrupt new wave of sexual entrancement saturating her sorely abused young body. All pain had di s sipated, giving way to a maddening, electrifying tingle that began deep within her cock-stuffed womb and spread relentlessly outward through the raw nerve ends of her naked flesh. She was a mass of exquisite moisture up between her thighs, as she rotated her hips from side to side around his thickly impaling cock, feeling her cunt dilating and sucking in crazy tempo to its rhythmic, if unmoving, throbs. Quinn remained completely immobile, maintaining his steel-like grip of her slender waist, letting her now wildly trembling body pump up and down at will on the rigid column of hot wet male flesh that bridged them. "Oh God, yes!" she blurted finally, the knot of revulsion in her stomach having turned to a lewd and constant tremor of masochistic excitement. "I'll do it! I'll suck his cock!"
"Okay, my dear, move forward slowly on your knees. Roscoe, get back!"
Moving as one, the frustrated auburn-haired housewife and the convicted molester of teenage girls inched forward toward the frenzied German shepherd that had withdrawn reluctantly to the edge of the circular bed at Archie's spoken command. Unable to raise her shoulders, because of her hands being handcuffed behind her back, the red-booted Navy bride had to rely on Archie to guide her. "That's far enough," he said finally, "he ought to be able to reach you now. Okay, Roscoe, come here and he down. Now you, Sherry, raise your face, and try to catch it in your mouth if you can."
Sherry raised her head and opened her eyes for the first time in many minutes, and her fear returned. Right there, before her astonished eyes were the huge dog's soft furry loins and the long, lewdly glistening red length of his penis. Roscoe's urgent whining had taken on a strange high pitch, now, as he lay there awaiting his temporary master's next command.
"Now, Roscoe, NOW! Fuck her face, boy. That's it!"
Suddenly he was there, and Sherry's face was being smothered against his soft belly. Remembering Archie's warning, and the pain he was capable of inflicting on her, the trembling young redhead opened her mouth and felt the shepherd's slippery hot member slide easily between her lips.
Oh, my God! Sherry's mind exploded, as she felt the rubbery tip pressing against her larynx. He's doing it.. . he's fucking my mouth! And for some strange reason Sherry couldn't understand, it felt good! She wanted this raging animal-cock humping into her defenseless mouth while the dog's owner fucked ruthlessly into her widespread cunt from behind. It was all too wickedly obscene for words!
"What do you think of that, sugar?" Archie giggled, gaping at her moistly grasping pussy slipping up and down on his lust-thickened cock, the thick pink ridges of coral-hued skin pulling out and clinging to it, as she screwed her now eagerly sucking mouth down on the dog-penis between her ovalled lips. Again and again she wormed her pretty young cunt down the gleaming length of Archie Quinn's inhumanly thick shaft, doing most of the work herself, and enjoying every lewd minute of it, as the German shepherd whined happily in front of her.
It was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her in her whole life, including sucking Darryl Haag's fat little cock. This was different, it was depraved and evil and delicious, and she loved it!
"Are you ready for your Spanish lesson
Sherry dear?"
"MMMmmmrrrggghhh!" came her halfhearted protest, stuffed as her mouth was with Roscoe's still swelling cock.
Archie felt a renewed sense of power now, as he withdrew his cock from the warmly seeping cunt of the handcuffed young housewife. His licentiously pulsing hardness throbbed with the new thought that had entered his twisted mind. Excited as he was, he still felt that he could go on all night, as he braced himself for the assault on her deep-hidden anus. His poised and ready member already coated with the viscid liquor of her vagina, he spat in his hand and then rubbed the warm saliva on the swollen head of his cock to make it even more slippery. He was certain she was an "asshole virgin" and he didn't want to hurt himself during the initial entry. Slowly, patiently, he annointed her flinching little anus as well, plunging his long middle finger to the depths of her rectum as he did so. Then, despite her garbled protests, he withdrew the finger, leveling the head of his lust-expanded cock with her fearfully clenched nether ring winking pinkly at him in dreadful anticipation. Then he pushed hard!
"MMMmmmggghhhrrrggghhh!!!"
"Hurt, Sherry? You'd better relax, that was just the head of it. Here's a little more for you, though!" And he shoved again.
Agony! Pure unadulterated agony seared through the loins of the dog-sucking young wife. Nothing but the most excrutiating pain in her hinder parts as he continued to press inch after anus-tearing inch of his bulging hard cock past her resisting rectal entrance. And God, she couldn't even raise her head to protest as the huge German shepherd continued to hump with maniacal intensity into her imprisoned face. She could feel the slippery hot length of his dog-penis rubbing wetly against the saliva-coated softness of her tongue, leaking prodigiously and unabated in his animal excitement. But the cock in her anus surely over halfway in by now -- was going to kill her before Archie was through, and of that, she felt positive! It was ten times worse than when he'd just fucked into her helpless cunt.
"Just relax, darling child. Just relax and enjoy . .. enjoy ... enjoy ..."
But then, no sooner had a slight lessening of the initial pain of entry begun in her ravaged loins, than he was withdrawing once again, seemingly taking half of her intestines along with him. "And now, my sweet girl, the little Spanish lesson I promised you." And suddenly, he was back inside her pussy once again -- five or six rapid-fire strokes -- and then out again. "Now back in the old poop-chut," he giggled adolescently, "and what we have is the extraordinary despunta!"
"AAAaaauuuggghhhMMMmmmggghhh!!!"
Again and again he withdrew from one painful orifice, only to rapidly replace himself in the other. Cunt, anus, cunt, anus. Each time thrusting a little faster in the pussy, and a little deeper into the rectum until gradually he was able to go the full, unbelievable length up into her aching nether passage.
After many agonizing minutes, a weird transition began to take place in the body of the ravished Navy wife. In slowly mounting spirals of thrilling sensation, the switches from her cunt to her rectal opening caused little flickerings of pleasure to mingle with the pain, finally championing it until it was little more than a dull throb, while the flames of pleasure seared out of control in her doubly impaled young body. Then, miracle of miracles, her plundered rectum began to respond just as her pussy had in accustoming itself to the brutal onslaught of Archie's punishing rod of flesh. It began to feel almost. ., good! Oh God yes! Good! It feels good! Fuck my ass!
She was gone now, completely lost, Archie gloated, watching her naked body increase its hungry up-and-down gyrations with the passing. of each delirious second. The urgency of her thrusts backward against him grew steadily more pronounced, her eagerly sucking mouth dripping saliva from the corners onto the gold silk sheets. He felt the warmly oozing secretions of her sucking cunt and the lessening stricture of her anus as he plunged his pounding member from one to the other of her twin orifices in alternate strokes. He listed to the obscene wet sluicing noises coming from both wide-stretched channels now, as she thrust deeply back at his laboring cock, willing to accept it all... and more! His bony hands slid up her sides to her full-mounded breasts once again, and he found the forced leverage of his waist-hold no longer necessary.
Sherry could only grunt and groan out her pleasure now as it raced into her from both ends. Cock! The slippery red cock of the huge German shepherd and the incredibly thick cock of the wicked man who had master-minded this whole humiliating little scene. She wasn't a person to these creatures, she was just a thing, something to shoot their lewd hot cum up inside of! And the mere thought that that was what they would both soon be doing was enough to bring the ecstatic young redhead to pinnacles of masochistic bliss she'd never known existed. Oh, God! If only they both shoot-off at the same time!
Half crazy with desire now, Archie pulled his deeply buried shaft from her grasping rectum until only the swollen tip remained inside. Then, he plunged forward with every ounce of strength at his command, ramming the full, aching length of his penile shaft into her helplessly exposed anus. Immediately he began long hard strokes into the seething nether channel, intent now on spilling his seed there. The moistly quivering walls of her rectal passage clasped and unclasped hungrily around his angry rod of flesh, slithering up wetly to devour its entire blood-hardened length to the hilt. His sperm-inflated balls slapped down into the dampness of her vagina below with a vengeance.
Suddenly, Sherry knew that this was it! This was it! Archie's thickly expanding cock dug into her like a jack hammer, while Roscoe's own rapidly increasing rhythms began to signal his pending ejaculation into her mouth. The cords on her neck stood out in bold relief. She was a pig ... a whore ... a slut . . . any and every dirty thing that ever lived. And she was loving it. It was all so beautiful.
"cOh God ... oh God!" she managed to groan around the German shepherd's throat-plumbing cock. "I-I'm cumming! I'm cummmmming! Fuck me! FUCKMEEEEEE!!!"
Her cunt walls opened like a thousand tiny springs, emitting a flood of warmly gushing secretions that flowed down between her legs" and onto the bed that had seen her final liberation. She swirled her tongue furiously around and around the jabbing length of semen-bloated dog-cock reaching far back in her mouth, eager now to taste his animal cum.
"Oh God ... Oh God ... Oh God . .. !" Sherry chanted, twisting and writhing between the cocks, animal and human, that fucked into her at either end, her cries of ecstasy spurring them both on in a mad race of unrequited lust. Bright flashes began to fuse in her mind as she continued to grunt out her joy, the juices of her cumming gushing in ceaseless spurts down between the full, quivering columns of her red-booted legs.
Then, she felt Archie jerk, tense and curse, followed by hot jets of his sperm shooting deep into the forever stretched passage of her rectum. Her head swam with depraved sensuality as the hot powerful squirts splattered wildly up inside her, filling her belly with the wicked nectar of her adultrous sex.
"Oh yes, cum in me ... cum in .. . ! her words were cut short then, as the furiously humping German shepherd hunched up closer to her face and began to fill her mouth with wildly streaming animal semen.
Oh God, why not? her brain exploded, even as she sucked even more voraciously at the fiery red penis between her lips. Cum in my mouth, you big lovable dog, . . I love it!
Roscoe's freely dangling testicles beat out a lewd rhythm against her chin in time to the pummeling she was still receiving in her ravaged anus from behind. She lapped and sucked, and decided she liked the peculiar, gamey flavor of Roscoe's animal sperm.
Her firm young body seemed suddenly drained of everything and her slavishly postured shoulders began to melt into the obscene sheets as the German shepherd finished his fun and dropped back to lick tenderly at his deflating red penis, a lewd string of semen still connecting it to her lips. Archie released his grip on her waist, and she slipped slowly down to the mattress on her belly, feeling his weight lifting from her, and the cool rush of air over her sperm-coated buttocks. She was really a whore now, bought and paid for, used and abused .. . and she had loved it all. Sherry English is a prostitute, she thought with a smile as Archie began to unlock the handcuffs behind her back, ... a real working prostitute!
Chapter Ten
The gentle kiss of Indian Summer came swiftly to eastern Maryland that year, and in the succeeding two months since Sherry's first night with Archie Quinn, much had happened. Men, mainly, but money too, and she was almost as proud of her nearly five figure savings account as she was of the spanking new, pearl gray Jaguar XKE parked under the carport. And, there were times when she could only giggle that it was difficult to tell who was screwing whom -- since she was getting paid, and handsomely, for doing what she probably would have done for nothing anyway - fucking,.
Fucking. God, how she loved it! And how many times had she felt the hot semen of a total stranger squirting into her pussy or her anus or her mouth? She'd lost count when the figure approached fifty -- and except for Archie's Special Friends, there was little she hadn't tried and loved. AH the usual sexual variations, of course, but some rather innovative ones as well such as the time that old, gray-haired insurance salesman from Omaha had insisted she wear a mask while he fucked her between the breasts... with his wife looking on! Or, the Turkish sailor who'd made her tongue-fuck his anus for a solid hour before he finally got around to screwing her. Life was so very, very exciting these days, and she could barely imagine a life without stripping and whoring, now. There was an old China man who liked to cum in her hair, and a rough-looking school teacher who made her wear corsets and shoes with six-inch heels while he fucked her in the ass. There was the Frenchman with a briefcase full of ticklers, who always let her choose her own ., . and there were so many others whose faces she couldn't even remember . . .
And then, there was the telegram from the Navy Department:
Dear Mrs. English, We regret to inform you that your husband 2nd Lt. Marc T. English, Jr. USN - has been wounded in action.
What happened between the time she'd received the telegram and when the telephone began to ring late that afternoon, Sherry scarcely knew. She had cried, of that much she was certain, and she could vaguely remember calling Darryl Haag to tell him that she wouldn't be coming in that night.. . maybe never. But mostly, she just felt sick and ashamed. Maybe Marc was to blame for her glaring infidelities, but she needn't have taken it to so gleefully. Particularly when she realized how much she really loved him after all.
"Hello?" she managed.
There was a brief pause on the line, followed by a staccato popping sound. It was apparently a weak connection.
"Sherry, baby? It's me, Marc. Listen, I can only talk a minute ... are you crying ... we're on Telestar. . . Yeah, how 'bout that? Where? I'm in the Philippines. .. Yeah, I love you too, baby. Naw, it's nothing serious - just a leg wound. A leg wound. Yeah, that's right. .. Hey, you are crying! ... Honey, listen. I'm coming home for a couple months rest and recuperation, to give my leg a chance to heal... Huh? .. . Oh, I just picked up a piece of scrap, shrapnel. Yeah, I've got a lot to tell you too, baby. Now listen, you stop your bawling and I'll see you in about four days ... I love you too. Yeah, really!"
Marc was coming home!
As much as she hated to admit it, Sherry was almost... afraid to see her young husband come home. She loved him, God knows, but would he understand? And worse, could she control herself? The past few weeks had been the most exciting in her young life. Since that day with Darryl, hardly a week had gone by that she wasn't fucked by at least a half-dozen different cocks. After Archie Quinn, whom she couldn't resist returning to at least twice a week, there had been a continuous succession of cocks of every size, shape and description. It didn't make much difference what they did to her ... as long as there was a climax in it for her. But with all she'd done, she still hadn't met Archie's Special Friends ... she was still afraid to go that far, because if there was one thing she had learned that summer, it was that she wouldn't, or couldn't say 'no' to anybody as long as what they wanted to do made her feel naughty.
Now, sitting on the edge of the toilet, the red-haired Navy wife leaned over to apply the last stroke of silver polish to her well pedicured toenails. She was completely naked, and still moist from a long soak in the bathtub. The satin pink lips of her pussy parted slightly and quivered of their own volition at the thought of what she was about to do this last night before Marc arrived home, and her free hand brushed absent-mindedly across the distending pink bud of her clitoris, causing her to moisten provocatively between her legs. Then, throwing her dressing gown loosely about her shoulders, she went to the kitchen to use the wall phone.
Her dressing gown parted as she climbed up on the high telephone stool. Slowly, voluptuously, her slender, long-nailed middle finger dipped in and out of her sensitive pussy-flesh.
"Archie?"
"Yeah?"
"This is Sherry."
"What do you want, bitch? I was jerkin' off."
"Oh, don't do that!" she .cooed sweetly. "What are friends for?"
"Waddayawant?"
"Oh, I just wondered if it might be all right if I came over to see you tonight?"
"When?"
"Eight o'clock okay?"
There was a brief pause. "Yeah, I guess so. What's the skinny, i thought you wasn't workin' anymore?"
"Let's just say this is for old times sake, Archie doll. And, it's on the house ... Or should I say 'on me'?"
Another tremor of wicked excitement coursed through Sherry's body then - the now familiar illicit thrill of pure lust. She closed her eyes and imagined them -- just as Archie had told her they would be. Lady Alder - The Baroness - and her birch rods; The Merchantsens, Fred and Louise, and their own fourteen year old daughter. God, that must be something to see! Billy the jockey, and, of course, Roscoe . ..
"Okay, see you about eight o'clock;" . .. After all, she could be good when Marc came home, and maybe, just maybe, she'd join the Club if he still wanted her to, though God knows it wouldn't hold any surprises for her.
"Sherry . . . ?"
"Yeah, Archie, eight o'clock is groovy ... and, Archie?"
"Yeah, bitch?"
"C-Could you invite some of your Special Friends?"
The sleek gray XKE glided to a comfortable halt in front of the crumbling turn-of-the-century brownstone in the midst of a light seasonal fog. The lovely auburn-haired girl inside glanced nervously at her watch. It was a little past eight o'clock. Were they there? she wondered. Am I being a fool? What if... ?
Billy the Jockey met her at the door, waring his colorful racing silko as if he'd just left his horse. Roscoe, recognizing her immediately, let out a long low whine of animal excitement, pulling on the chain that connected him to the Jockey's wrist.
"Hi, Roscoe," Sherry cooed impishly. "I see you remember me after all." Quickly, she stepped past the jockey and his pet, and into the glowing interior of the house.
"Sherry!" Archie exclaimed from the bar where he stood mixing drinks. "Come in, my dear!"
Sherry smiled her hello and took a seat on the opposite end of the sectional couch from a stern looking dark-haired woman in her mid-forties. Despite the woman's obvious physical attributes, her glare was deeply unnerving to the young housewife.
"Sherry," her balding host chirped merrily from behind a brace of drinks he balanced in either hand as he approached them from across the room. "I'd like you to meet Lady Alder. You've already met Billy, I noticed, and the Merchantsens will be along later."
"Tell her to take off her goddamn clothes!" the jockey chuckled, rocking towards them on his stubby little legs. "Let's see if her ass is as fine as you said it was!"
"Patience, my little friend, patience. Let's not forget the Merchantsens. Louise called and said they'd be over as soon as she and Fred finished fucking Tanya Marie."
Sherry looked up at Archie for instructions, just as the doorbell began to chime.
"Go ahead and eat her out, dear. That must be Fred and Louise."
The lovely young teenage housewife felt a lewd thrill deep within her very soul as she sank to her knees before the bitchy Lady Alder. The stern, middle-aged woman was dressed in blue leather. Expensive leather, crushed kid or something, Sherry mused. She tugged on the zipper at the wide of the woman's skirt. Undoing it, she slid the woman's lower garments off of her legs, leaving her slightly bulging midriff and enormous triangle of coal-black pubic hair naked for all to see.
"Oh, my!" the mousy Louise Merchantsen exclaimed, stepping down into the sunken living room. "I hope we haven't missed anything!"
"Not yet, you haven't," Lady Alder snapped venomously. "Let's get to licking that cunt, girl!"
Sherry lowered her face to the glistening red slit between the Lady's parted thighs and began to lap contentedly at the swollen little bud of the baroness's clitoris. Behind her, there were hands, many hands, on her own dress, lifting the hem, feeling her voluptuous breasts, squeezing and pinching at her pliant ass-cheeks.
"Where's your dog, Archie?" Fred asked.
"Where did you put my birch rods, Archie? That ass looks positively naked without some stripes on it!"
Sherry buried her face in the pungently exposed pussy before her, and began to suck slowly at whatever flesh found its way into her mouth.
"Look at that fuckin' dog's cock, will ya?" the jockey named Billy exclaimed.
Familiar furry forelegs wrapped themselves around Sherry's trim waistline, as the German shepherd began to hump eagerly toward her, his tapering length of canine cock dancing slipperily in the crevice of her naked white buttocks like a greasy candle. Still, she sucked. Oh God, it's in!,. . It's sooo big!. . . It's so gooood!
"Where's Tanya Marie?"
"She had a date tonight. You know how them goddamn high school kids are."
"Look at this one eat that cunt!"
As she continued to suck on Lady Alder's hotly seeping pussy, and as the dog in her cunt began to lengthen his strokes, Sherry remembered something that her friend and neighbor Audrey Henderson had said to her the first night she started work at the "Little Mexico" .. . Being beautiful means never having to say you're horny!
