These are troubled times we live in, times when many of us are afraid to pick up the morning newspaper and read of the latest scandals and brutalities. The world's highly developed systems of communication and transportation have made us all too aware of the enormity of man's inhumanity to man, and the average man feels utterly helpless to do anything to help his society.
Of course there exist those of us who are too caught up in personal problems to worry about the news, who feel disinterested rather than impotent. Both sorts of people often fail to see that it is the same basic human jealousy, greed, and stupidity which wreaks havoc in their homes and plasters horrifying headlines on the newspapers. Perhaps if more Americans thought clearly about this, they would take more care with the way they tend their own gardens.
In Winston McElroy's bitingly realistic new novel, Weekend With The Boss, he takes the background of his native Midwest and a cast of typical well meaning but ill-advised people to make his point about humanity's responsibility toward humanity. None of these characters - not even Claudia, the intelligent and beautiful red-haired model who concocts the plan which eventually destroys some of them - seems to give serious thought to any motivation save their own selfish satisfactions. They rationalize that they are trying to save their friends' floundering marriage, but in fact they are only trying to gratify their respective egos.
What is tragic, almost terrifying, about this powerful story is that at the end all of them are apparently as unthinking and uncaring as before. A marriage has been wrecked instead of mended, with both the young husband and wife vanished to some unspecified but surely unhappy fate, yet their "friends" have learned no lessons, and they themselves have been weakened rather than strengthened by their ordeal.
What author McElroy has shown in this fast-paced, painfully realistic novel is a microcosm of society itself, and this is a book none of us can afford to ignore. Although the publishers cannot recommend it to the emotionally immature for reasons of its stark, often shocking portrayal of real life, they strongly urge that all thinking Americans read it and pass a few minutes thinking seriously about it afterward.
-The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
The last rays of the setting sun filtered through the well-polished picture window of the Marstons' new white frame ranch house, lighting the face of the young brunette peering anxiously up and down the suburban street with a rosy pink radiance. Two seventh-grade boys whizzing by on their bicycles stared appreciatively at her shapely silhouette outlined against the large plate-glass window, their eager adolescent eyes lingering on her swelling breasts in her tight summer T-shirt, but the newly married young woman was too preoccupied to notice their lewd stares.
"Where is Mitch?" she muttered to herself. "He said he'd be home by six-thirty so he'd have time to change and still make it over to the Vardens' by seven, and he's never been late before."
Much to the disappointment of the youngsters who'd circled around on their bikes for another tantalizing glimpse of their sexy new neighbor, Vicki Marston turned forlornly away from the window and wandered into the kitchen for another look at the German potato salad she'd fixed for the barbecue at Vince and Dale Varden's home. She'd insisted on bringing something along even though Dale, who'd been one of her best friends since high school days and who was well aware of the Marstons' precarious financial position, had told her not to bother. As it was, she felt overly indebted to her blonde friend whose husband had gotten Mitch a job in his TV repair shop after the younger man's return from Vietnam. Why if it hadn't been for that, they still might not be married, for Mitch was old-fashioned enough to feel a man should be able to support his wife.
"Oh God," she sighed, remembering how extraordinarily joyful she'd been that day last spring when her high-school sweetheart had finally landed the job and presented her with an engagement ring. Now, five short months later, he was coming home late, and her own heart was filled with dread at the prospect of seeing him. Normally, she enjoyed spending time with Dale and her handsome husband Vince, but this evening she was so ill at ease over what had happened yesterday that she felt that even a glamorous night of wining and dining in nearby Lexington could not have raised her spirits.
"And it's not just last night, not really," she muttered into the potato salad. "Things have been going downhill ever since our honeymoon ..."
A cloud dimmed Vicki's deep-blue eyes, and the blood drained from her ordinarily rosy cheeks, leaving her fair-skinned face nearly as white as her conscientiously scrubbed kitchen appliances. In her mind's eye she was seeing an unwanted picture of the white bridal suite in their honeymoon hotel as she, clad in a romantic lace negligee, cringed fearfully on the bed. Her new husband, his familiar face contorted with lust, lunged toward her with his enormous penis brandished in one hand and his breath coming in harsh, bestial gasps. Even though months had passed since that terrifying night when she'd lost her virginity, Vicki still shuddered at the memory.
"No! I won't think about it!" she vowed to the empty kitchen.
Despite the unhappy young wife's best resolves, however, the obscene images continued to dance in her brain. Once again, she was seeing Mitch's lust-reddened eyes boring through her honeymoon lingerie, then feeling his frenzied fingers pulling away the flimsy fabric to expose her virginal body.
"No, Mitch, please!" she'd pleaded in genuine fright as he clutched at the sensitive mounds of her full breasts. "Please, be gentle! Not like this!"
The expression on the desire-deranged bridegroom's face had grown even more animalistic, and her pitiful plea had only seemed to infuriate him. With a guttural grunt, he'd leapt upon her helpless body with such force that the wind was knocked from her lungs.
"Mitch! Stop!" she'd wailed as soon as she could catch her breath.
"I've been waiting four goddamn years for this!" he'd growled in the voice of a stranger. "Now you're my wife, and I'm going to fuck you, whether you like it or not!"
For the next ten pain-filled minutes he'd done exactly that, attacking her unprepared body as though she were a hated enemy rather than the woman he'd loved and desired for so many long years. Without thought of how he might be hurting her, he forced his thickly swollen shaft of male flesh hard into the weeping bride's untouched vagina, brutally shattering her maidenhead even as she screamed in agony for him to stop.
Then finally, after a seeming eternity of horror, his panting, sweat-slick loins had collapsed prostrate of top of her, pinning her pain-wracked body to the mattress. The room swam before her eyes as wave after wave of raw agony shot from her bruised nerve-endings up to her brain. As Mitch's deflated penis slipped at last from her ravished pussy with a lewd popping sound, she knew that her mother had been right, after all: sex was nothing but a disgusting, filthy, and inhumanly painful degradation!
The next morning Mitch had been so sincerely contrite about his uncontrolled assault that Vicki had to forgive him. Yet though she could accept intellectually that the sight of her naked, available flesh had simply been too much for him after four years of sexual frustration in the service, emotionally something inside her had been injured beyond repair. Try as she might, she could not respond with pleasure to their tender lovemaking that next night, or any night thereafter. No matter how careful and gentle Mitch tried to be, she still felt nothing but nervous panic and pain.
Sighing mournfully, Vicki managed to push the unpleasant honeymoon memories from her mind, only to find them replaced by an even more disturbing vision of last night's fiasco. Her husband had acted strange from the minute he came home, kissing her in the way she now loathed by pushing his tongue in her mouth. In high school days, she'd loved "french kissing", had grown excited by it; but now she knew it meant Mitch was in a sexy mood and she would have to force herself to endure it.
The real trouble had commenced after dinner when they began watching their new color TV, which they'd been able to buy at a special discount when he got the job at Varden's TV Repair Workshop. She'd not been paying much attention to the old Marilyn Monroe movie as she leafed through the new September issue of McCalls, but apparently her husband was very attentive to the voluptuous blonde movie star.
Suddenly Mitch had edged close to her on the couch and run his hand over her red-checked blouse, and whispered, "She sure is sexy. Looks kinda like you would if you were blonde."
She'd tried to laugh off his obvious arousal, lightly suggesting a nice cold beer, some potato chips, perhaps a snack, but Mitch was not to be deterred. His green eyes glowed with that lecherous fire she so dreaded, and before she had a chance to escape into the kitchen his hands stole beneath her cotton shirt.
"No, baby," he insisted. "I wanna eat this lovely body of yours, nothing else!"
She assumed he wanted to kiss her breasts, a habit of his which she found rather perverted, but stoically tolerated. "No, Mitch, please," she protested softly. "Not now ..."
The young husband, irritated at her lack of enthusiasm, suddenly took on the expression she so well remembered from their disastrous first honeymoon night. It was as though uncontrolled animal instincts were once again taking control as he dropped to the floor with a guttural groan and started pushing her knees apart.
"NO!" Vicki wailed, rally panicking as she saw what he had in mind. A wave of terror surged through her innocent body, and she clamped her thighs together with all her might.
"Yeah, baby!" Mitch muttered, forcing them apart again with his strong fingers. "Lemme kiss your sweet pussy like I've always wanted to do!"
How could he suggest anything so horrible, so unnatural? "Are you crazy?" she gasped, leaping to her feet. "What's got into you, Mitch?"
He glared at her balefully for a long minute and then turned angrily away, muttering something she couldn't quite understand but which sounded obscene. Then, without so much as a backward glance, he slammed out of the room. A moment later she heard the car squealing away into the night. Shaking with emotion, she'd locked herself in the bedroom and cried herself to sleep long before her husband returned home.
"And now maybe he's never coming back because I locked him out," she muttered, placing the potato salad back in the fridge and impulsively pouring herself a glass of white wine. Normally the nineteen year old wife didn't drink much - certainly never alone - but at the moment she decided her flagging spirits needed a boost if she were ever to face the Varden's barbeque party tonight. "God, I hate sex! It's ruining our marriage! I must have been crazy all the time we were dating in high school when I thought sex was going to be the most wonderful thing in the world ..."
Vicki remembered all the conversations she and Dale Collins, now Dale Varden, had had during their teens about this subject. Dale and their other good friend, a redhead called Claudia Champlin, had run with a more wild crowd than she, but they'd still remained close to her. How she'd envied Dale and Claudia their happy-go-lucky attitude toward making out and even losing their virginity... and yet simultaneously she'd known in her heart that keeping herself pure for Mitch was more important than "kicks". As her mother was fond of saying, men didn't marry the females with whom they sowed their wild oats.
"Maybe I was all wrong ..." she mused now, thinking how happily married Dale and her husband Vince seemed, and how sadly her own marriage was floundering. "Everyone always said Mitch and I had a marriage made in heaven, after we'd stuck together for so long without ever breaking up once. But look what's come of it... "
The white wine made the non-drinker feel rather dizzy and she set it down on the counter. It was no use going to Dale and Frank's feeling out of control - she might break down and let on that her marriage was a hideous failure, at least in bed, and she was too proud to let her best friend know her shameful secret.
"But if Mitch doesn't come home, then there'll be no need to pretend anything," she muttered sadly. "Oh God, I wish I didn't love him so much. Then it wouldn't matter! I could go away and start a new life and never think about men or sex again!"
But the fact remained that she did love her well-built, fair-haired husband, and that the thought of never seeing him again filled her with despair. Could it be her own fault, perhaps, that things weren't turning out happily? After all, Dale and Claudia both enjoyed sex; and Vince Varden seemed much more rough and animalistic than her own husband, always telling smutty jokes and playing with Dale's voluptuous breasts in public. Perhaps she was the one who was abnormal .. . and if so, what in God's name was she going to do about it?
Chapter TWO
Much to Vicki Marston's relief, her husband had seemed to want to forget last night's unpleasantness just as much as she did. They'd spoken only of inconsequential subjects on the short drive across the little Kansas town of Cedarburg to the Vardens' split-level home, and hesitant smiles had even been exchanged as they walked around to their friends' backyard patio.
It had been several weeks since they'd seen their friends, for the Vardens had spent their summer vacation in Los Angeles visiting Vince's older brother Art who was part owner of a popular nightclub. Although it had been several years now since Art had paid a visit to his small home town, his ultimate success story remained one of the main topics of conversation even among those who'd not known him well. Now Vicki felt her own pressing problems being overshadowed by curiosity about the exciting vacation, for she longed to travel although she'd never been out of Kansas except for a high school excursion to Chicago.
As they reached the neatly landscaped backyard, Dale Varden came bursting out the back door clad in tight hip-hugging jeans and a halter so skimpy that Mitch let out a loud wolf whistle. Laughing, pleased by the attention in a way Vicki could never have been, she embraced first Mitch then Vicki, kissing them on both cheeks in the French way which she'd affected since high school days. The intimate physical contact always embarrassed her girl friend somewhat, but Vicki knew it was just Dale's way like her flirtatious manner of talking and low-cut blouses.
"Oh Vicki, I told you not to bother," Dale gestured toward the foil-covered bowl of potato salad. "Anyway we decided to go out instead. I couldn't find any meat at the A&P but chicken, and Vince doesn't like that and anyway we wanted to try out this new place over by the freeway. Okay with you guys?"
Without waiting for an answer, the petite blonde motioned them in the back door. "C'mon, let's have a drink first. Vince is mixing up something special we had in L.A."
Dale kept up a brisk flow of her usual exuberant conversation as she led them through the large colonial style kitchen, her fully rounded buttocks jiggling provocatively inside her skin-tight Levi's as she bounced along in her ex-cheerleader walk. Vicki glanced around her, once again admiring the room which was so cozy and old-fashioned yet possessed all the most modern appliances. Like his brother, Vince was a real go-getter, there certainly weren't many men of twenty-six who could afford a beautiful new split-level like this. It was a good thing Mitch was working with him now, and maybe someday she too could have a wonderful brick wallpapered kitchen with real copper pots on the walls.
Mitch Marsten was feeling just as much envious longing as his pretty brunette's wife, but the object of his emotions was Dale Varden's tempting physique rather than her period-piece kitchen. Just the mere sight of those tautly twitching ass-cheeks produced an immediate thick swelling inside his jeans, and instinct told him that the blonde's aura of sensuality was not a deception as was the case with his own dark-haired wife. Besides, things got around in a small town like this . .. and if even half the stories about Dale were true, her husband was one hell of a lucky guy.
The three young people stepped into the white-walled living room just as Vince was adding the finishing touches to four tall drinks.
"Hey, great to see you guys!" he flashed them a jovial grin as he dribbled the final drops of gold liquid from a very tall bottle into the orange juice filled glasses. "You're looking prettier than ever, Vicki!"
What was it about the way Vince looks at me that always made me feel naked? Vicki asked herself as she accepted the proffered drink with a rather awkward smile. It's something about his eyes - they make me think of the way Mitch's looked last night when he wanted to kiss me down there. ..
"You're looking pretty good yourself!" Mitch flopped easily down on the black leather couch. "Lookit that California suntan!" He took a sip of his drink, started in surprise, then took another. "Hey man, what's this stuff? It's real good."
"It's called a Harvey Wallbanger!" Dale broke in giggling. "'Cause is you have too many you'll be banging into the walls! It's got that Italian stuff in it." She waved toward the tall bottle of gold liquid on the built-in bar.
Vicki gingerly sampled the cocktail as Vince started telling them about the good times they'd had drinking in his brother's ritzy nightclub, and the famous people they'd seen there. To her surprise she liked the concoction which lacked the alcoholic taste she normally disliked in martinis and Scotch, and since she didn't realize the drink also contained vodka, she allowed herself to be talked into a second one. By the time the two couples made their way out to their cars, the inexperienced blonde was so intoxicated that she'd quite forgotten yesterday's quarrel and snuggled up on the front seat beside her husband, just like in the old days when they'd been dating and this allowable contact was enough to sent sparks of excitement charging between them.
They could see the restaurant's neon sign flashing from about a mile away on the dark flat prairie road. The Farmhouse, it proclaimed in gold and then Real Home Cooking played first red then green then blue across the star-sprinkled sky. As they drew nearer, they could make out the lights of the interstate highway snaking away toward the horizon, and the indistinct shapes of the other buildings which had popped up the moment the new freeway exit was put in this summer.
"Gee Mitch," Vicki sighed, taking hold of her husband's arm for support as they made their way across the gravel parking lot. "Look at all the out of state license plates - Illinois, California, oooooh, there's one from Canada. It sure would be nice to take a trip like Dale and Vince did . . . "
The sandy-haired husband squeezed his wife's arm, feeling grateful that she wasn't holding a grudge against him for last night's incident. Probably he had been too abrupt - Christ, though, he'd been too horny to stop himself - and anyway, it was no use blaming Vicki because she wasn't as open about sexuality as her girl friend Dale. He really did love his slender brunette wife and couldn't imagine being married to anyone else. Surely, if he were patient and gentle she'd soon get over these silly hangups.
"Sure baby," he whispered into the softness of her flower-scented hair. "If things keep going good at the shop we'll be able to afford a vacation next summer. And energy crisis or not, people ain't going to give up their TV's you can bet on that."
"Maybe we can go to the ocean," Vicki's voice shrilled with excitement. "I've always wanted to see it... "
The Vardens' whose Chevrolet moved a good deal more quickly than the Marstens' oft-repaired old Valiant, were already seated in a candlelit booth at the back of the long wood-paneled room, talking to a curvaceous young waitress in a red-checked apron.
"... only got pork chops and chicken. And lobster, but it costs more 'cause it's gotta be flown in frozen, y'know. An' shepherd's pie, that's the special of the day." She moved aside to make way for the second couple, staring at the handsome blond Mitch in the way so many women did, which always made his wife proud she'd married him. "Real hard to get enough steaks these days, y'know," she added apologetically.
"Lobster for me," Vince decided. "And a bottle of red wine, what about that?" he glanced toward his friends. "We got into the wine habit in L.A."
As the others placed their orders - pork chops for Dale and Mitch, chicken for Vicki -the young brunette found herself wondering about, her best girl friend's husband who sat across from her. When Dale, after running through about ten boyfriends and leaving them with broken hearts, finally got engaged to the seven year older Vince Varden, Vicki and everyone else in the Cederburg area had thought it was an excellent match. Now she wasn't so sure what she thought of Vince. Although she admired his hard-working ambitious character, there was a crude, almost brutal streak in the brawny man which made her faintly uncomfortably just sitting across from him.
After a couple of glasses of red wine however, Vicki was feeling too relaxed for introspective contemplation. The sheltered nineteen year old had only been truly inebriated three times in her life - at a high school graduation party at Claudia Champlin's house where someone had dumped vodka into the punch, once on her honeymoon, once on a picnic with Dale and Vince. In the days before her marriage she'd strictly controlled her drinking after almost succumbing to Mitch's urgent demands at Claudia's party, and now she still didn't really like to drink ... it seemed somehow vulgar to her for a woman to be drunk.
Tonight however, she felt a false euphoria flowing warmly through her bloodstream and understood why other people liked alcohol so much. All her nagging worries about her marriage had temporarily vanished, and she felt a pleasant glow from being together with old friends in cozy surroundings. In the candlelight, the Vardens' faces looked soft and kind, and Mitch's familiar features seemed more attractive than ever. Even "Aunt Minnie's farm-fried chicken tasted exceptionally tender and flavorsome to her.
"What a nice restaurant!'" she exclaimed. "All these candles and all! We should go out more often!"
"They're using candles 'cause it saves electricity," Vince remarked with a cynical smirk. "Takes a lot of bread to run all those dishwashing machines and shit in the kitchen," the waitress said. "But I agree about the going out, baby."
Normally Vicki was irritated when her girl friend's husband used words like "shit" and when he called her "baby," but this evening she didn't even notice.
"Oh I'm so sick of talking about this silly energy crisis," she said, accepting a refill of wine with a smile. She glanced toward her husband and Dale, but they seemed to be deep in conversation, apparently discussing their pork chops with home-fried apple slices. Turning back to Vince, she continued, "I like candles! And who needs beef? I read an article in Good Housekeeping that said it was bad for your heart - too much chlor - chol - well, too much something."
"Okay, okay, let's not talk about the world falling to pieces," Vince agreed, flashing his undressing smile again. "I'm pretty damn fed up with all this talk, too, you bet I am. Say, have you heard the one about..."
The brawny TV repairman began telling one of his off-color jokes, but Vicki didn't listen. She was watching Dale and Mitch and trying to suppress the slight twinge of irritation she felt at the chummy flirtatious way they treated one another. Of course it didn't really mean anything; she knew that; it had been this way even back in Cederburg High, and if Vince didn't mind when his wife kept "accidentally" bumping against her husband, why should she get upset about it. Taking a long sip of wine, she forced the ridiculous jealous impulses from her mind and pretended to be amused by the joke she hadn't heard..
By the time the two young couples had finished their main coursed and were drinking coffee and brandy with their "farm fresh fruit pies," the conversation had again swung around to the Los Angeles visit. Vince had a vague plan to start a nightclub in the Cederburg area, something for the interstate tourists and the locals who were loathe to drive all the way to Kansas City for a night on the town. His brother had offered to help finance such a venture and he hoped to be able to get a loan on the basis of his successful repair shop.
"Credit's kinda tight right now," he said, pouring them all a glass of California brandy from the bottle the shapely waitress had left on their table. "But maybe after this political mess is cleared up, things'll get better."
Mitch was enthusiastic about the idea, and the two men fell into a discussion upon which Vicki felt too intoxicated to concentrate. She turned her attention to Dale who was enthusing about Art's flamboyant life in Los Angeles.
"You wouldn't believe the parties," she beamed at her girl friend, getting a wicked thrill from the fact that she was fondling Vicki's husband's foot with her own underneath the table while she talked to the unsuspecting girl. "Really wild - I mean, really wild! And the clothes! You have to see the outtasight dress I bought! I don't dare wear it around here in stuffy old Cederburg!"
"Sure you do!" Vicki slurred. "I remember when the miniskirt first came in and you wore one to school, and Principal Prentiss sent you home to change!"
"Yeah!" Dale giggled. "And he sure spent a long time measuring that little skirt with a tape measure, the horny old bastard!"
Vicki giggled too, thinking of the bald headed pompous high school principal. "Wow," she remarked "It sure seemed like a long time ago.
We were only freshmen then . . . and now we're old married women."
"Yeah, time sure hurries on," Dale agreed. "I'm checking in the mirror for lines and gray hairs," she added in the confident tones of a young and attractive woman who has not yet had to face the reality of witnessing the degeneration of her flesh. "I've bought all sorts of weird anti-wrinkle creams in L.A. - you can get all sorts of super stuff there, let me tell you."
"Gee, I sure wish I could do some traveling," the intoxicated brunette said. "Maybe next summer we can go out to California."
"That's where it's happening, really. I mean on the coast they really let it all hang, loose, if you know what I mean. Here, lemme show you some photos ..."
Vince's loud voice ceased abruptly at the sound of the word "photos," and he turned eagerly toward his wife.
"Yeah honey, show 'em those pictures!" he snickered.
The petite blonde fished in her copious leather handbag and withdrew a yellow Kodak folder containing twelve snapshots. Giggling, she passed some to Vicki and some to Mitch, unnecessarily holding the fair-haired man's hand for a moment as she did so. Then, smooth forehead wrinkled in concentration, she carefully studied the Marstens' reactions to the obscene photos they'd taken at one of her brother-in-law Art's more swinging parties.
Vicki's shoulders tensed as she glanced at the first picture, but she did not allow herself to show her shock. Vince would only make fun of her, calling her a country hick and maybe he'd be right. If this was the sort of gathering rich and famous people enjoyed, who was she to say it was indecent? Just because she doubted she could ever feel at ease in a topless bikini didn't mean they were necessarily wrong - why, in Time she'd read that on European beaches topless women were so commonplace as to attract little attention.
"Gimme another look at those," Vince demanded, plucking the color photo from between Vicki's frozen fingers. "Wow, get a look at the tits on these chicks!"
As he spoke, he shot the young brunette a scrutinizing glance from the corner of his eyes. He could tell that she was shocked, though she wasn't admitting it, and as a rosy blush spread over her high-cheekboned face he correctly surmised that she was imagining how it would feel to reveal her own breasts in public.
Fastening his hungry gaze upon the enticing twin mounds straining against her thin cotton T-shirt, he once again vowed to carry through the plans he and his wife had formulated on the way back from California. If it was the last thing he did in his life he was going to get her. Vicki too astonished by the second photograph to be aware of the others' attention. In this picture a statuesque blonde who looked as though she must be a movie actress or a model was poised on the diving board above a kidney-shaped swimming pool in a lewd and suggestive pose for the benefit of a group of half-naked onlookers below. It was impossibly obscene, but the way the suntanned girl's body was positioned made the innocent young wife unwillingly think of lovemaking.
Though she told herself that she didn't want to see any more, her hand nevertheless reached for the next photo. Suddenly her whole body began to shake with a strange tremor which slithered up and down her spine like red-hot electricity, and with a gasp she dropped the picture onto the tablecloth. Filth - that's what the picture of a naked Art Varden with two naked bleached blondes touching his huge penis with their tongues was! Pure, unadulterated filth!
The alcoholic clouds quickly cleared from Vicki's mind as anger shot through her. Just as she was about to tell them exactly what she thought about vulgar things like this, her husband's bemused words interrupted her.
"For Christ's sake!" he grabbed for the photographs his wife had dropped. "These are really something else! Where'd you ever get them developed, Vince?"
"Oh, a friend of Art's specializes in that sort of thing."
"Wow!"
From Mitch Marsten's impressed tone it was obvious that he'd never seen anything like this before. "California here I come! That's all I have to say!"
Vicki stared at her husband in amazement, too distressed for speech at the revelation of this lecherous side of his personality. His dark eyes were lit with unmistakable sexual excitement as he gazed back and forth between Vince and Dale then began eagerly leafing through the rest of the pictures.
"You got any of you guys?" he inquired, his eyes fastening on the ripely jutting mounds of his boss's wife's full-mounded breasts. Jealousy rippled over Vicki, making her slightly nauseated and deeply depressed instead of angry as he added, "You really went to parties like this? You're not putting me on?"
"Sure we did!" Dale's sea-green eyes challenged her girl friend's husband as her foot probed suggestively at his. "And we've got pictures to prove it, don't we, Vince?"
"You bet we do!" The hefty man's laugh rang out so loudly that guests from nearby tables turned to stare at them. "Slides - lots of 'em! Why don't we go home and take a look?"
Dale glanced toward her girl friend and felt a bit contrite when she saw the sadness in the pretty brunette's face. Much as she wanted to involve the Marstens in the exciting world of swinging couples she'd so enjoyed in Los Angeles, she felt a deep affection and responsibility toward her childhood friend. Even though she wanted to make love with Mitch -had wanted to for years now - so badly that right now her panties were damp with desire, she would not allow herself to do anything that would hurt Vicki and destroy their close friendship.
"What do you think, Vicki?" she asked. "Want to come over for a nightcap and see what life's like on the coast? Or are you too tired?" This, she thought, left her girl friend an easy excuse to beg off. I don't want to see any more filthy pictures, Vicki told herself, but I don't want them to think I'm a wet blanket. Ignoring the flickering flames of curiosity which teased at the back of her brain, she rationalized that she was trying to be more open-minded in order to aid her faltering marriage. After all, looking at pictures wasn't the same as actually doing those indecent things. Of course she would never touch a man's penis with her mouth - it was unsanitary, abnormal - but if Mitch liked to see photographs of such perversions, maybe it was a good idea to try to understand and accept. If it was too disgusting, she could always shut her eyes the way she did in the movies about blood and violence to which he'd been dragging her for the past four years.
"Sure, a ... a drink might just hit the spot," she managed a faint smile in Dale's direction.
Vince insisted upon paying the bill, saying he could take it off his income tax as a company expense dinner, and they all rather drunkenly made their way out of "The Farmhouse." Vicki had composed herself enough so that she made no complaint when her girl friend's husband accidentally-on-purpose brushed against her breasts while helping her on with her light jacket. It was all just a game . . . they were all good friends ... it was all fun, of course . . .
The Valiant refused to start. After ten years of faithful service, it appeared to have died quietly at last. There was no apparent reason for the motor failure, or at least Mitch, handy as he was with automobiles, was too intoxicated to discover it. After he'd checked out the obvious machinery to no avail, they all piled into the Vardens' white Chevrolet and headed back to Cederburg with the radio blasting out into the warm, star-studded September night.
As luck would have it, the back seat was occupied by four broken television sets, and they all had to crowd into the wide front seat. Vicki found herself squeezed between Vince and her husband with their hard-muscled legs pressing tightly against her thighs. Perhaps it was only her imagination, but it seemed as though her girl friend's husband was rubbing his leg with unnecessary intensity against her bare leg, but of course he must move his foot on the gas pedal so she'd just make sure she held her own body as stiff and unresponsive as possible.
"Ooohh! You're tickling me!" Dale giggled as Mitch threw an arm around each girl, and Vicki was momentarily annoyed that she was unable to see exactly what was going on. But then an oldie-but-goodie from their high school days came on the radio and she relaxed. It was good to be here in the car with the people she knew and loved best, just like in the old days when they'd all piled into someone's car to drive around the state following the basketball team. After all, Mitch's other arm was gently fondling her back even as he and Dale roughhoused like a couple of puppies - it was all innocent friendly fun.
In the darkness Dale Varden slowly eased the hand which had jabbed her in the ribs down toward her unbrassiered breast. To her delight, firm masculine fingers tweaked teasingly at the tautening nipple, sending ripples of sensation to every nerve ending in her sensuous young body. Then she gave an involuntary gasp as Mitch abruptly reached his hand down inside her jeans to knead the pliant mounds of her buttocks.
God he must really be drunk to take a chance like that with Vicki sitting right beside him! the scheming blonde thought as she peered toward the others to see if they'd noticed anything peculiar about her gasp. Luckily, her husband was telling an especially risque story about a Los Angeles escapade, and her gasp was taken by Vicki to be one of shock. The brunette threw her girl friend a smile, glad that someone else was shocked by Vince's vulgarity.
I'm sure they really didn't do anything of the sort, she decided, tossing her shoulder-length chestnut curls. And as for these dirty pictures, they probably got them from Art. I'm sure Dale wouldn't go to an orgy. Okay, she used to be what Mom called "wild," dating a lot of guys and making out at drive-ins and all that, but she's certainly not a slut. I know her better than that!
As these thoughts whirled through Vicki Marsten's head, her own husband's hand was slipping determinedly down between Dale Varden's willingly wriggling ass-cheeks in the direction of her well-lubricated cuntal slit. The excited blonde crossed her legs, allowing the groping hand contact with the tumescent lips of her pulsating vagina, and she couldn't repress the groan that burst from her lips.
"Ohhhno!"
Vicki heard her best girl friend's exclamation which came at the opportune moment when Vince was guffawing over his smutty punchline. She began to feel irritated at the burly television repairman again, to wish he would talk about something besides sex for a change. Her annoyance was heightened by the strange tremors that shivered up her spine at the very thought of the scene he'd described. Even though she pushed these sensations to the back of her consciousness, they played a part in her overreaction to the jokes about parties where the invitations read, "Come in your birthday suit!"
"And then there was the time this starlet - a real cute little piece called Jolynne - got so turned on by one of Art's blue movies that she got up on the table and started finger-fucking herself right in front of everyone. An' then she started using a goddamned candle - a thick red one, no less! Jesus Christ!" The man's voice began to slur from the effects of the wine combined with his sexual arousal, and he pressured Vicki's soft naked thigh again as he added, "Took the whole goddamn thing up inside her, moanin' and groanin' like she was going crazy!"
Vicki tried to block out the sound of his indecent words, but it was impossible. She was so disconcerted that she failed to pay attention to the way her husband's body was shifting around beside her or the strange silence from the normally talkative Dale.
Keep talking, Vince! Dale was praying to herself as she began massaging the swelling bulge between her girl friend's husband's strong-muscled legs. She realized that Vince guessed what she was doing, that he was consciously trying to preoccupy Vicki and hopefully, excite the inexperienced brunette with his stories. From the tone of his voice, she could tell that he was feeling almost as passionate as she herself was.
God, how long she'd wanted to touch Mitch this way, to feel his eager hands exploring her sensitive pussy-flesh and tingling clitoris! She remembered how she'd ground her dampening clitoris back and forth against the hard bleachers during basketball games as she watched the muscular Mitch Marston and indulged in a glut of prurient fantasies . . . fantasies which she'd thought could never become realities because of Vicki who sat beside her with Mitch's class ring proudly displayed on her left hand.
A new version of the Rolling Stones' famous hit, Satisfaction, came on the radio, and its slow erotic beat so inspired Vince that he launched into another still more depraved tale of a young model and her pet German shepherd. They'd reached Cedarburg by now, and he automatically slowed the car to the required 30 m.p.h. as they rolled along past silent darkened houses and stately elm and maple trees.
On the far side of the car his wife had reached a fever pitch of excitation as the hand of her childhood friend's husband shifted so that his thick middle finger was rammed up inside her eagerly accepting pussy while his palm pressed flat against the cleft between her undulating ass-cheeks from beneath. Her husband's lewd words filtered vaguely through her brain, increasing her arousal, though she wasn't really concentrating on what he was saying.
Vicki however, was hearing every degenerate word Vince Varden uttered, and just as he began describing how the marijuana-drugged model had performed before them with her big dog, she knew she couldn't bear to hear another sordid word.
"SHUT UP!" she screamed suddenly just as the Chevrolet was pulling up in front of the Vardens' three bedroom split level. "Stop it! I don't want to hear it! Shut up, damn you! Shut up!"
Mitch and Dale quickly snatched their hands away from each other's excitedly pulsating loins and turned to stare in confusion at Vicki. Tears were streaming down her lovely face, and her classically sculpted features were distorted in anguish as she whimpered again, "Stop, please stop!"
There was a moment of loaded silence, and then Dale gathered himself together enough to speak.
"Really Vince," she exclaimed to her husband as he backed into the driveway. "You could have picked another story to tell, you bastard."
The distraught brunette felt grateful to hear this support from her girl friend. Her planned invective against Vince melted away, leaving her shaking weakly and crying uncontrollably as he switched off the motor.
Vince stared at the weeping young woman beside him, knowing he ought not say anything more but unable to resist making one last attempt to return the atmosphere to one conducive to a swap.
"What's the matter, babe?" he laughed. "You afraid you'll attack Charlie or somethin'?"
Charlie, the Vardens' six-month old golden retriever, had always displayed a special fondness for Vicki.
The tearful blonde stared at Vince Varden in consternation, unable to believe that he'd said something so crude.
"Let me out of this car!" she hissed, choking back her sobs and angrily pushing her tousled chestnut curls away from her eyes. "I'm not coming in to hear more of this filthy talk! I'll walk home!"
"C'mon Vince, leave her alone!" Dale urged.
She reached across to pat her girl friend's arm. "C'mon honey, we'll drive you home. Vince just doesn't know when to shut up, that's all. Don't let him bother you." Despite her intensive need for the satisfaction only Mitch's long hard cock could give her, Dale managed to speak warmly and sympathetically to her oldest friend.
Vince and Dale Varden were frustrated at having their hopes for an evening of swapping rudely dashed, but Mitch Marsten was frankly furious. All day long he'd barely managed to contain his resentment at having been locked out of his own bedroom the night before, and now that he had a good quantity of alcohol swimming through his bloodstream and his virile penis was throbbing in urgent need from the uninhibited blonde's caresses, he could no longer hold back his righteous anger. A man had some rights with his own woman! He'd been faithful to Vicki despite her lack of sexual response for months now, but he simply couldn't put up with this situation much longer. Okay, maybe he'd gone too far with Dale just now, but it was all his wife's fault ultimately.
It was past-due that Vicki should suffer for the many months of misery she'd put him through. Perhaps he'd been a bit too violent on their wedding night, but he'd thought she'd forgiven him, and anyway it was idiotic to punish him for this long. He hadn't wanted or intended to treat her so roughly that first time, but she should have understood his urgent passion. Instead, she'd set up this barrier of feeling against him - well, he'd had it! He couldn't take it any longer!"
"I'd like to see those slides," he said, his voice too loud, too imperative. "If the women are chicken, they can bug off."
Dale flashed him a withering glare. "They're both drunk," she said to her girl friend who was speechless after her husband's unexpectedly belligerent proclamation. "We'll just ignore them."
"Do whatever you like," Mitch continued, too irate to care about the consequences of his irate words. "I only know I'd like to meet a chick who was honest about wanting to get fucked." He turned to Vince, his breath coming in harsh swallows. "You're a lucky guy. At least you're taking a real woman to bed tonight!"
Dale, who normally never blushed, turned beet-red as she stared at the strained features of her best friend.
"Now, that's enough!" she snapped. "You guys get out of the car and let me drive Vicki home if you wanna be big deal he-men and watch some dumb slides. Just get out and leave us alone!"
"Yeah, let's see those goddamn slides!" Mitch exclaimed, pushing past Dale to get out of the car.
Vince, looking bewildered and a bit annoyed, followed suit. As Dale jumped out of the Chevrolet and made her way around to the driver's seat, they moved toward the house, casting incomprehensive glances back toward the two women who were now tenderly embracing.
By the time Dale had calmed Vicki down and gotten her into bed, almost an hour had passed. When she arrived back home, Mitch had left and her husband was impatiently awaiting her. She sank into his arms, giggling happily as he tugged off her clothes.
"We've got to help Vicki and Mitch," she murmured as he began caressing her body. "They're in really bad trouble, I'm afraid. She told me she hasn't been able to feel any desire since the day they got married."
"But you feel hot enough, don't you, baby?" Vince whispered, plunging his middle finger into his wife's desire-drenched vaginal channel. "You wanna fuck, don't you?"
"Oh yes, lover! YES!" Dale moaned.
For the moment, husband and wife forgot their friends' troubles as they joyously exploited each other's eager bodies. Tomorrow was time enough to worry about the Marstens . . .
Chapter THREE
Saturday morning dawned bright and sunny, and Dale Varden hummed happily as she fixed her husband's usual breakfast of strong black coffee, fried eggs sunny-side up, and raisin toast. Outside the kitchen window the backyard Elm was turning yellow, and the row of young maples at the far end of the lot were just beginning to take on a glorious red color ... a perfect Midwestern September day! Upstairs, she could hear Vince's discordant voice blasting out an off-key but cheerful rendition of Dylan's Mr. Tambourine Man, and a contented smile flickered over her lush pink lips as she remembered their passionate love-making of last night and this morning. Wriggling her shapely buttocks beneath her sheer pink nightgown, she delighted in the sensation of still-damp sperm between her naked legs.
"God!" she murmured as she poured the orange juice. "Life's really marvelous!"
By the time Vince had gulped down his breakfast, kissed her full on the lips, and dashed off to make it to the shop by nine o'clock, the blonde wife's euphoric mood had vanished as she remembered her friend, Vicki's, marriage problems. She had to do something to help, she thought as she soaped her petite but curvaceous body in the shower, but what? Her own year-old marriage had had its rocky moments, for both she and Vince had hot tempers, but everything had always been all right once they were in bed together. The Marsten's problem was just the opposite, and she was completely at a loss to come up with any sort of remedy.
After her shower, she heated up some coffee and took her cup outside to sit on the sunny patio. If only Vince were home so we could talk about it, she was thinking as the telephone shrilled from the living room. When she heard Claudia Champlin's voice coming over the wire, it seemed like an answer to a prayer.
During their high school days, Dale, Vicki and Claudia Champlin, a statuesque redhead, had been close friends. Now Claudia was working in Kansas City and only returned to Cedarburg for holidays or on week-ends when her elderly widowed father wasn't feeling well. Unlike her two girl friends, the redhead had shown no interest in an early marriage but had wanted to see a bit of the world and have some sort of career. Unable to afford even the state university, she'd saved up enough from her summer job at the A&P and babysitting to enroll in a secretarial course in Kansas City, then had gotten a good job in an advertising firm. Now, as she excitedly related to Dale, she'd had a really lucky break.
"... And then Gregory - that's my boss -suggested that maybe I could do the nylon advertisements, since the model got hepatitis. So I did - and now I've been offered a modeling job in Chicago beginning next month! Imagine! A model!"
Dale enthused over her friend's success for some minutes, then began confiding her worries about the Marsten's marriage. They'd always considered Claudia to be the most intelligent of them, the one who thought up clever solutions to all problems. It was a real stroke of luck that she'd happened to come home this weekend.
"Mitch and Vicki are in trouble," she stated bluntly.
"Trouble?" Claudia sounded incredulous. "But I always thought they were the ideal couple!" She paused, then added almost hopefully, "Or do you mean money trouble? I got a lot of money from that nylon ad - I can lend them a couple hundred bucks if they need it."
"No, it's not money ..." Dale replied. " I wish it was just that."
"Look, let's not talk on the party line. I'll come over, okay?"
"Great!"
"Or I have a better idea. Let's have lunch in the Sweet Shop, like we always used to in the old days."
The Cedarburg Sweet Shop was as crowded as usual on Saturdays, with booths full of shouting and flirting teenagers, farmers in town for their weekly shopping, and the regular contingent of elderly men sipping coffee and playing checkers at the back table. Dale and Claudia were pleased to find that the particular booth which had been their crowd's favorite happened to be free when they entered, and they slid into the cracked red plastic seats without a glance at the lustful boys who stared at their long shapely legs.
"A coke, George," she said to the dour-faced elderly owner as he approached their table. "And an order of fries, for old times sake." She turned to her friend, adding, "It's been ages since I ate this stuff."
Claudia, who was determined to keep her svelte figure, ordered low-calorie orange pop. They sipped their drinks for a moment, each thinking of the many times they'd been here together with Mitch and Vicki.
"But they never fought!" Dale exclaimed suddenly. "Never!"
Her friend knew at once what she was talking about. "We have to help," she said seriously. "Tell me about it, Dale."
As the petite blonde related the story of last night's misadventures, Claudia's elegantly made-up face darkened over with sympathy. Of course she'd always known that Vicki was far more prudish than she or Dale, but she'd believed that her friend kept her virginity before marriage more to hold on to her man than for reasons of morality. Now it seemed evident that the scare-stories her old-fashioned mother had showered her with during puberty had scarred her deeply, despite the fact that she'd laughed with her girl friends at the older woman's dire threats of hellfire and suffering. Claudia wondered if it were possible to undo the damage at this late date.
"Wow! She's really hung up, huh," she whistled as Dale finished telling her how Vicki had grown hysterical in the car and how angrily frustrated her husband had been. "And it sounds like Mitch's just about at the end of his rope, too. What a goddamn shame!"
Suddenly her dark, almond-shaped eyes narrowed as she recalled an incident from her sophomore year, just after Mitch had given Vicki his going-steady ring. She'd been babysitting at the house next to the Marsten's one night, and had called out to Mitch when she saw him coming home from a date with his girl. Something about his way of walking told her he was terribly sexually frustrated and on a strange impulse - though Claudia was admittedly quite intelligent, her Irish mother had bequeathed her with an undermining streak of wild impetuousness - she'd tried and almost succeeded in seducing her friend's boyfriend.
With a speculative stare at her attractive blonde friend, who was delicately picking at her catsup-drenched french fries, she wondered what Mitch's reaction would be now if she tried the same trick. From what Dale had told her, she felt certain that he wouldn't insist on remaining faithful for too long. As the first inklings of a plan began formulating in her quick brain, the photogenic redhead's scarlet lips shaped into a smile.
"Maybe you and Vince were doing the right thing last night, after all," she mused, twirling her orange diet-pop between well-manicured fingers. "And it's very interesting that you guys got involved in the swap scene, 'cause I've been going to a lot of parties like that in Kansas City, too. Gregory - my boss, y'know - knows all the real swingers. Anyway, I've seen a lot of couples who really changed drastically after being involved in that scene, and I bet if we - her best friends, who really love her and care about her, who aren't just using her or something sordid like that - got Vicki to swap, their marriage would heal itself straight off."
Dale gaped at her smiling friend, her fingers frozen in mid-air with a greasy french fry dangling limply between her plate and her wide-open mouth. "I always used to think you were the clever one, Claudia Champlin!" she exclaimed. " But now I think you've gone crazy! Must be that big-city pollution! If Vicki even suspected that Vince and I had been trying to get a swap going last night, I don't think she'd ever speak to me again! Honest!"
"Wait a minute! Let me explain . . ." Claudia's green-lidded eyes sparkled with excitement as the plan began to take definite shape in her mind. "It's simple, really. Somehow Vicki's got thing all twisted up inside. She doesn't equate sex with love and friendship - she thinks it's something dirty and evil. So don't you think it's up to us to show her that sex is really fun - one of the best ways of communicating and showing affection."
Dale still looked puzzled, but there was a hopeful note in her voice as she remarked, "Sure, all that's true - but you didn't see how riled up she was last night, screaming and crying and the whole bit."
There was a moment's silence as the young model's slim white fingers extracted a Benson and Hedges from an expensive-looking leather case and lit the cigarette with a small matching lighter. "All we need," she said at last, "is a few days of complete privacy and peace. And I know just the place!"
"My boss has this cabin in Arkansas. Before he got divorced and his wife took the kids and went to Paris to become a writer, he used it for summer vacations. Now, it's for parties and for when he wants to get away from the rat-race and just take it easy hunting and fishing. If you can get away next weekend, the six of us could drive down there."
"I have to ask Vince - mostly he opens on Saturday, but if you really think this might work, I think he'd be willing to go along with it," Dale replied. "But - but what do you mean, really?"
"Here's my plan," the statuesque redhead began confidently, and for the next ten minutes her friend listened eagerly, nodding at intervals, smiling more and more broadly. By the time the two voluptuous young women made their way out of the crowded, smoke-filled Sweet-Shop, their faces were both glowing with excitement.
* * *
Vince Varden was concerned to hear his wife's voice on the repair shop phone, for she was considerate enough not to bother him at work except in the case of a real emergency. When he heard what she had to say, however, his rugged face broke into a wide grin. Five minutes later, he was in the back room talking to Mitch, who was busy fitting the back on a newly-revived television set.
"Waddya say to lockin' up next weekend and going to the mountains? Claudia Champlin's quit her job to become a model, and she's got this rich boyfriend who's got a house in Arkansas. Just the six of us - should be a real gas!"
Mitch turned slowly to face his boss, an immediate vision of himself and Dale lying naked in some secluded forest glade flashing before his mind's eye. Feeling too guilty to meet Vince's open gaze, he stared instead at the rack of spare parts hanging above the husky man's head.
Why the hell not? he asked himself, suddenly realizing that last night had been the last straw. If we go to this cabin, something sure as hell is going to happen between Dale and I. But if Vicki's never going to treat me like a real wife, I'm gonna have to find satisfaction somewhere else. I've been an idealistic asshole for too long now, trying to convince myself that love and sex are two different kettles of fish just 'cause Vicki's so uptight she thinks that way. Well, that's over now! Now I'm gonna get this hungry cock of mine inside a real woman - right up between those fabulous legs of Dale Varden!
"Why not?!" he grinned back at Vince, meeting his gaze levelly. "Sounds fantastic!"
Chapter FOUR
Vince closed down the shop at noon on Friday, and within an hour the two young couples had loaded a couple suitcases and two A&P boxes of provisions into the Vardens' Chevrolet. After several days of grey rain, the weather had once again grown summery, and this helped to send the four of them into a holiday mood.
Dale and Vince, in the front seat, were buoyed up with so much excited anticipation that by the time they'd reached the southbound freeway the more subdued couple seated behind them were joining in the jokes and laughter. Even Vicki, who still felt a little awkward around the Marstens after her behavior last Friday night, began to gain some enthusiasm for the trip. The tight knot of tension that had been coiled inside her all during the week began to relax as she gazed out the car window. Soon, instead of seeing endless crop-covered prairie-land, they'd be driving over hills and through the thick forests of the Boston Mountains, through a landscape the sort of which she'd seen only in photographs up until now.
Turning from the window's monotonous scenario of arrow-straight highway and hay fields, Vicki gazed out of the corner of her eye at her husband's rugged profile. Mitch, oblivious to his wife's scrutiny, was discussing fishing gear with Vince, but although he was arguing heatedly in favor of a certain sort of reel, his real attention was focused on his friend's wife's brazenly displayed flesh. Dale, taking advantage of the last of the hot weather, had donned a stretch-knit top and a pair of white short-shorts so tight they appeared to have been painted on her ripely rounded buttocks. Her nipples poked through the thin material of her crimson T-shirt like two small berries, and between her full-fleshed thighs the shorts pressed so closely against her crotch that the swelling lips of her vagina were unmistakably outlined.
She's not wearing underwear! Mitch realized with a start. Jesus Christ! What a sexy broad!
Instinct told him that his boss's wife was flaunting her body in a deliberate attempt to seduce him, and he had to bend down and hide his face by lighting a cigarette to hide the blush that rose on his fair-complected cheeks. All week long he'd been agonizing over his decision to be unfaithful to his wife of only five months, at moments feeling so tortured by guilt and sadness that he'd half hoped Dale Varden would rebuff any advances. Now, it was abundantly obvious that the curvaceous blonde was ready and willing for a little fun and games, and he knew that he was too charged with pent-up sexuality to resist her.
A small sigh escaped from his wife's chest, causing Mitch to turn toward her. She was staring wistfully out the window again, a curiously sad little smile playing softly around her soft pink lips, and he felt a sudden surge of tenderness for the slender blonde.
I'll never love another woman as much as I did Vicki, he told himself. And I still love her, too . .. but this sex thing's destroying it. Now here I am starting an affair, and how can things possibly get better with Vicki when I have to lie to her? I never was much good at telling fibs, anyway.
There seemed no way to resolve the troubled thoughts whirling around in his aching brain, so Mitch turned the conversation to fishing again and resumed his lustful contemplation of Dale Varden's enticingly displayed loins.
Just after they'd crossed the Neosho River in southern Kansas, Vicki's eyelids drifted shut and her head slumped back against the seat. All week long she'd been plagued by insomnia, had lain awake far into the night staring miserably at her husband's stiffly positioned body on the far side of their double bed. Now, she'd relaxed enough in the car to feel a ray of hope for her marriage, and in her relief had drifted into a much-needed sleep from which she didn't awake until hours later when the car turned onto a deeply rutted dirt lane.
"Wh-what?" she stammered confusedly, rubbing her eyes and staring out into the darkness. "Wh-where are we?"
"We're almost at the cabin, honey," Dale laughed. "And about time, too! I'm dying for a drink, and I'm famished. I sure hope Claudia and this Gregory of hers got here and opened the place up like they said they would, 'cause this looks like a pretty scary woods to spend the night in."
"I see a light up ahead - they must be there," Mitch peered through the trees, pointing toward a distant pinprick of golden light.
A few minutes later, they were drawing up in front of a surprisingly modern house. Vicki, who'd expected a sort of log-cabin shack, let out a pleased little cry at the sight of the pretty Swiss-style chalet with its window-boxes of geraniums and wooden shutters.
"Oh, it's so nice and cozy!"
A tall, extremely handsome man dressed in elegantly casual clothes which had obviously not been inexpensive met them at the door. Claudia, in an equally impressive silk lounging dress, followed close behind him.
"We were beginning to think you'd never get here," she exclaimed, making introductions.
Gregory Payne produced six glasses and a bottle of wine. By the time he'd refilled their glasses, everyone was at ease and relaxing before the big stone fireplace. Even Vicki felt happy, though she wasn't saying much. Her large blue eyes grew wider and wider as she stared first through the big windows at the tall pines and encroaching mountains, then back to the happy circle of friends, and even when Vince Varden started in on his vulgar Los Angeles stories again she was feeling too content to let his crude language and embarrassing innuendo bother her. If only things were the way they used to be between Mitch and me, she thought as she watched the dancing orange flames, I'd be perfectly happy. I'd like to be holding his hand and smiling into his eyes. . . But she was too timid to make an overture toward her tall blond husband, who was sitting on the opposite side of the fireplace talking to an animated Dale Varden.
Suddenly, halfway through the second big bottle of wine, the men demanded food. For the next hour or so the women bustled about, giggling over the intricacies of the old-fashioned wood-burning stove - modern as the home was, it was without electricity since lines had not yet been run this far into the backwoods of Arkansas' Boston Mountains. Somehow, despite the wine they sipped as they fried chicken, tossed salad, and baked potatoes, they managed to produce an excellent meal which was hungrily gobbled up.
Leaving the dishes for the next morning, they all settled back down by the fire to sip brandy and listen to the soft strains of music emanating from Gregory Payne's battery-run stereo. Vicki, more intoxicated than she'd intended to be but beyond the point of caring, was almost oblivious to the fact that Dale was flirting outrageously with her husband, as Claudia was with Vince. Dreamily, she realized that the four were dancing to the slow, sensuous music, and then she grew aware for the first time of the intense stare the handsome advertising executive was directing toward her.
A little embarrassed, she smiled self-consciously in his direction. A moment later, before the alcohol-confused young brunette had a chance to protest, Gregory was pulling her to her feet and taking her in his arms. She gasped under her breath and tried to pull away from his overly intimate embrace, but he only laughed and began rotating against her in time to the seductive slow music.
Vicki was a good dancer; at home, displayed on the living room bookshelf, were a half-dozen well-polished trophies which she and Mitch had won at high school proms and Cedarburg's annual Firemen's Balls. Now, although initially alarmed at the indecent tightness with which the strange Kansas City man held her, she soon closed her eyes and relaxed as the rhythmic melody surged through her blood. It felt good to be swaying in time to the music in the firelit mountain cabin together with trusted friends, feeling well-fed and a little light-headed from the wine and brandy .. . she hadn't been so happy in ages!
Gregory Payne, a tall, dark-haired man in his early thirties with a fashionably-trimmed mustache and hair a few inches longer than was normal in Cedarburg, shot a lecherous grin over the curvaceous brunette's shoulder at the other two lewdly entwined couples. Claudia had filled him in about the young wife's "sexual hang-up" and the proposed remedy, and he'd been more than willing to join in. What a wild weekend his promised to be! Already, Claudia's sexy blonde friend, Dale, was massaging her pussy over Vicki's husband's hugely bulging cock as they danced, while over by the mantelpiece his redheaded secretary was allowing Dale's husband to slip his hand inside her low-necked red silk dress.
Aroused by the salacious spectacle, Gregory impulsively slid his hands down over Vicki's firmly rounded ass-cheeks, skillfully massaging the pliant flesh beneath her twirling blue-pleated skirt despite her gasp of shock and stiffening body. Somehow Vicki, despite her unfashionable, almost school-girlish attire and naively open face, attracted him more strongly than sophisticated Claudia or openly provocative Dale. In a way, she reminded him of his first wife, though the former Mrs. Payne had been stronger-minded than this pretty little thing seemed. It was difficult to imagine the timid young Mrs. Marsten championing Women's Liberation, much less running off to Paris with three children under ten to make her own way in the world.
But he didn't want to think about his puzzling ex-wife at the moment - he was far more interested in how soon and in what exciting ways he was going to be able to seduce this virginal-appearing young girl. Despite her initial reserve, he could now feel her taut buttocks muscles involuntarily contracting beneath his persistent kneading, and he gloated inwardly as she let out a low sigh.
Growing more daring, the advertising executive pressured his muscular chest against the dancing girl's full breasts. They felt soft, yet youthfully firm, and he longed to take them in his hands as Vince Varden was doing with Claudia's. Before he could do so, however, Vicki's alcohol-glazed blue eyes flickered open to stare in appalled surprise at the other embracing couples.
At first she thought she must be hallucinating, but as her vision cleared and she distinctly saw her own husband's hand cupping Dale's short-clad buttocks to pull her in against his bulging penis, she froze in her steps. My God! What's going on here? her intoxicated mind whirled as she turned toward her redheaded girlfriend and saw Vince Varden's hand massaging her bare breast. Mitch must be so very drunk that he didn't know what he was doing, and poor Dale must be terribly embarrassed and upset, too, about what her own crude husband was doing with the glamorous redhead Claudia. Oh dear, what a dreadful situation - the wonderful weekend she'd been looking forward to suddenly threatened to turn into a melodramatic disaster.
Gregory, who'd been watching Vicki's eyes widen in shock with considerable amusement, suddenly jerked her limp body back toward him.
"Oh, no!" she moaned, caught off guard and falling awkwardly against the virtual stranger's hard-loined body. He pinioned her against him with such force that she was powerless to resist, then began grinding his blood-swollen male thickness against the sensitive area between her sculpted legs.
Horribly humiliated by the thought that she herself must look just as obscene as the other two unlawfully embracing couples, yet not wanting to make an unpleasant scene, Vicki unwillingly moved in time with Gregory Payne's close-pressing body. He'd seemed such a cultured, educated man that she was truly surprised to find him acting as animalistic as Vince or Mitch in his worst moments, and she felt her cheeks flaming with shame as his iron-hard penis rubbing against her sensitive pubic mound sent an unwanted thrill of desire charging through her loins.
For the past five months Vicki had prayed to once again feel sexual arousal as she had in the days of going steady and being engaged to Mitch, but it had been as though that part of her body were irrevocably frozen and dead. Now, under sordid circumstances and with a complete stranger, she was horrified to find her traitorous flesh vibrating with undeniable physical passion. Stricken with guilt, the trembling brunette tried to draw her thighs together only to find that she'd worsened the situation by trapping his seemingly enormous penis between her sensitive thighs.
Shame flooded through the innocent young wife's body as a telltale moisture dampened the crotchband of her white nylon panties, but with every wave of guilty self-disgust came a far stronger spasm of the most exquisite pleasure she'd felt in months. Gregory's skillful hands kneaded her buttocks in lewd little circular undulations which he well knew would heighten the stimulation of his hotly pressing member, and a lascivious smirk of victory transformed his handsome features into a mask of pure lust as he felt Vicki gradually yielding to temptation and grinding her pelvis back against him.
I'm sick - perverted! the desire-tormented brunette accused herself. I can't feel pleasure from my husband like a normal woman . . . only with a stranger. Inside, I must really be nothing but a slut. Oh God, I don't want to be this sort of person! But I can 7 help it! I can 7 stop these sinful feelings! I can't even make myself pull away from him . ..
Suddenly she realized that Gregory had maneuvered her over toward the other couples. What she saw in the dim light cast by the flickering ember of the dying fire so shocked her that she made no protest as Gregory's hand began pressing into the slit between her wriggling ass-cheeks. What in God's name had gotten into her husband to cause him to behave in such an audacious way? He hadn't drunk so much wine as all that. No, it was as if all six of them were being swept along into some nightmare of insane emotion by a current too fierce and violent to fight against.
"Ooohhhh," she moaned under her breath, despising herself for feeling a lurid fascination at the obscene gyrations of Dale and her husband.
The close-knit couple's erotic motions were too suggestive now to even pretend to be dancing. In fact, the way they were rubbing up against one another resembled a perverted parody of the love-act more than anything else. Her best girlfriend seemed to be encouraging the illicit contact - perhaps she was jealous of whatever it was Claudia and Vince were doing over in that dim corner beyond the fading firelight - but to Vicki's amazement she felt no anger, only a helpless thrill of raw excitement.
All of a sudden, electric lightning shot through her loins as the stranger from Kansas City pressured his burgeoning thickness directly against her pulsating clitoris. A warm flood of feminine lubricating fluid gushed onto her flimsy panty crotchband at the overwhelming sensation, but at last the alcohol and lust-crazed nineteen year old brunette gathered the willpower to pull away from the man's embrace.
"OOOHHHH!" she wailed aloud, her arousal and agony at ending the delicious titillation echoing piercingly around the room and causing her husband to break away from a very disappointed Dale Varden.
The Marstens' stared at each other in consternation, Vicki's cheeks crimson as she realized that Mitch was able to see the damp stain on her thin cotton miniskirt. Now he'd know that another man had aroused her as he'd never been able to! Unfortunately, the taped music had come to an inopportune halt; in the ensuing silence, the frozen four were uncomfortably aware of the labored breathing of the oblivious Vince and Claudia.
"Damn cheap apparatus," Gregory Payne cursed under his breath, crossing to rewind the machine.
Taking advantage of this pause in the bizarre erotic atmosphere, Vicki crossed toward her husband and took his arm.
"Let's take a walk," she suggested in a voice that she just barely managed to keep from shaking. "It's so - so hot and smoky in here. I need some fresh air."
Mitch followed his wife out onto the wide porch as though mesmerized, vaguely aware that Dale and Gregory were shrugging and falling into each other's arms to continue their lewd dancing to a new tape. The cool mountain air cleared his head, and though his aroused penis was still throbbing with painful desire for the sexy platinum blonde; he was relieved in a way to have escaped from the overstimulating environment before making an irrevocable move toward destroying his five month old marriage.
"Payne said there's a little river down at the bottom of the hill," he said, avoiding Vicki's eyes. "Whaddya say we walk down that way?" The young blonde merely nodded, too embarrassed by the strange events which had transpired in the cabin and by her own body's unexpected and unwanted re-awakening. Part of her longed to grab her husband's hand, to kiss him and beg him to love her, to let him fuck her right here and now beneath the glittering canopy of stars in order to prove to them both that she could respond like a real woman after all. But she was too shy to utter the words in the first instant when the tender yearning swelled inside her, and then she began to fear that he'd not respond to her in kind - that he was angry -and she didn't dare to make the overture which might have healed their marriage. The past five months of tension, and especially the last week where they'd treated each other as strangers who happened to be trapped in the same small house, had burnt a barrier between them which was not easily repaired.
The two young people stood beside the peacefully gurgling creek, sexually excited but unable to communicate their deepest emotions. Mitch felt as though he were being buffeted in a tornado, as though all the precepts on which he'd based his decision to seduce the willing Dale tomorrow were being shattered into a thousand smithereens. Vicki had responded to another man, a total stranger! Maybe ... maybe some of their sexual problems had been his fault, not just the product of her unnatural inhibitions.
Their eyes met, and an awkward, unsatisfying kiss was exchanged.
"C'mon, let's crash," Mitch broke away from his wife and started up the bank. "I'm really bushed."
An excited wave of anticipation swelled inside Vicki's stimulated loins. He wants to make love! He forgives me! she told herself as she hurried after him up toward the cabin. And I want to feel him hard and pulsing inside me - I really do!
Both of them were grateful that their bedroom - which had originally been designed as the bedroom for Payne's eldest children, twin sons - had it's own private entrance. Neither felt up to facing their friends another time that night, and by mutual consent they let themselves into the cottage as quietly as possible. Vicki shot her husband a loving glance, which to her disappointment he didn't notice, then hurried to the large bathroom which was connected by two doors to the other two bedrooms. She felt an imperative need to wash the scent and memory of Gregory Payne's indecently arousing hands from her body before giving herself up to her husband's caresses.
Mitch, who'd been debating with himself over whether to try to make love with his normally frigid wife, misinterpreted her abrupt exit and lay hastily down on the far side of the bed, feigning sleep. In a way, he was grateful, for he felt inadequate. What did this Payne fellow have, aside from lots of bread, that he didn't? If Vicki had responded coldly and indifferently to him, his ego would have been irreparably wounded.
When Vicki came out of the bathroom and heard her husband's over-loud, obviously false snores, she felt as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped on her head. Mitch didn't want her! He probably hated and despised her, considered her a slut! Carefully climbing into the bed without so much as grazing his pajama-clad body, she lay in rigid frustration for what seemed hours. Despite her humiliation, the fires of desire inside her re-awakened young body refused to die out.
Some time later, a medley of strange sounds reached her ears. In one of the bedrooms beyond the connecting bathroom, someone was making passionate love. Straining her ears, the excited young brunette deduced that it must be Vince and Dale ... but a minute later, she realized that there were four distinct voices.
God! her bewildered mind whirled. They're all doing it together!
It was impossible! She must be having one of those peculiar dreams when you feel as though you're wide awake... or perhaps something about the construction of the cabin's walls distorted her hearing ... or maybe she was still drunk and her perverted imagination was playing tricks on her ...
Whatever it is, it's none of your business, she told herself sternly.
Burying her head in her fluffy, down-filled pillow, the agitated young woman tried for several minutes to drown out the dim sounds of raucous laughter, shrill giggles and flesh slapping against flesh. Her efforts were to no avail; it was simply impossible to concentrate on counting sheep when what appeared to be a virtual orgy was going on in the next room, especially when the orgiasts were girls who were as close to her as sisters.
She and Claudia and Dale had shared everything together, moving together from birthday parties, to boy-girl parties with kissing games like Spinning-the-Bottle and Snowball, to high school proms. They'd bought their first brassieres together at Peerless Department store, admiring one another's budding breasts, had cried over one another's broken hearts, had been bridesmaids at each other's weddings. Oh, sure ... in the last years at Cedarburg High Dale and Claudia had gotten somewhat boy-crazy and had attended lots of wild parties which she and Mitch hadn't been interested in attending, but she'd had no idea that her most trusted friends were turning into degenerate sluts. Mitch hadn't drunk because of basketball training, and they'd just been more interested in being alone together than in watching everyone get drunk. Had this sort of thing been going on at those parties without them telling her about it? No, they'd told one another everything! The group sex taking place in the next room must have been some sort of evil plot dreamed up by that awful friend of Claudia's and by the crude Vince Varden. Thank God she and Mitch had escaped from the devious clutches of those inhuman perverts - but how humiliated poor Dale must feel!
A sudden loud giggle from Dale's unmistakable high-pitched soprano voice pierced through the listening brunette's brain and destroyed her comforting rationalization. Oh God, her girlfriend was really enjoying this debauchery! Suddenly the sleepless wife was overwhelmed by an all-consuming curiosity. She had to see what was going on, to find out for sure whether everything was all right and they were just playing some sort of a rowdy game, or if her worst suspicions were confirmed.
After throwing a cautious glance in the direction of her somnolent husband, whose snores had by now acquired a realistic, slightly drunken note, Vicki Marsten slipped from her bed and tiptoed toward the half-ajar bathroom door. Pulling it closed behind her with a stealthiness which made her feel like a sick-minded eavesdropper, she guiltily leaned toward the wall beside the blue-tiled bathtub where the sounds were loudest.
From here, she could hear every word being uttered with absolute clarity. What was more disturbing to the trembling girl, she could also distinguish the sounds of lovemaking so vividly that her imagination began conjuring up obscene visions. The more she attempted to erase these disgusting images from her mind, the more life-like they became.
The worst sound of all was a sort of wet slurping noise, and despite Vicki's innocence she identified it almost at once: either Dale or Claudia was performing the perverted act which her own husband had tried to force her to indulge in last week. How could anyone bear to put a man's . .. thing ... inside her mouth? Revulsion swept through her as she imagined what it would be like to feel an enormous heated pole of flesh ramming in and out between her lips, and she shut her eyes in a vain effort to block out the mental picture of a man's thickly throbbing erection poised above her girlfriend Dale's pretty face.
Her lewd reverie was interrupted by a shrill cry from a voice which was obviously Dale Varden's.
"Yeeeaaahhhh, lover! Lick my pussy! That's goooodddd!"
So Dale's not taking her husband's big.. . thing.. . in her mouth after all the listening blonde's mind whirled as she leaned her head weakly against the cool tile wall. She's doing something even more disgusting - letting him put his mouth on the most private part of her body. Why, I've never even let Mitch look at me down there, much less kiss me. It's sickening! Perverted!
Yet even as these thoughts churned through Vicki's troubled mind, she gradually grew aware of a slight flickering sensation shooting out from her moistening pussy to every nerve-ending in her aroused loins. The unwanted feelings accelerated as she heard Claudia gurgle, "Uuuuggg, tastes goooddd!"
An immediate vision of the scene on the other side of the wall sent a mortifying shudder of excitement flaming like liquid fire through Vicki's bloodstream. Now there was no denying what was happening; Dale was being kissed in the most degenerate way possible, right between her shapely naked legs. .. while in the same room Claudia's auburn head was bobbing up and down over one of the men's obscenely exposed male member!
The vision, instead of revolting her as it ought to have done, sent a flood of warm moisture seeping from her indecently pulsing cuntal lips. Each creak of bedsprings, each muffled moan, infected the eavesdropping nineteen year old in the same way the erotic atmosphere had while they were all dancing in the living room. Something deep inside her was straining to break loose as new and unbidden impulses invaded her hitherto frigid flesh, and the flames in her fire-filled vagina were raging with such a red-hot intensity that it was impossible to ignore them any longer.
Before the naive brunette bride realized what she was doing, her trembling right hand had made its way up under her pale blue baby doll nightie. As her fingers delicately made contact with her panty-protected vagina, a shiver of delight drowned out the guilt-ridden protests of her conscience and evoked a sigh of rapture. The sound of her own voice frightened her - it was quite as lewd as the high-pitched cries of pleasure Dale and Claudia were emitting - but instead of yanking away her traitorous hand, she continued to rub the oddly exciting dampness of her panty crotchband. I can't be doing this dirty thing! a censor shrieked out accusations inside Vicki's head. What's wrong with me today, anyway? I don't even feel like the same girl I was this morning. .. I'm a stranger, and I don't even like the new me. I hate it!
With an anguished sob, the confused brunette turned to regard herself in the mirror above the sink. The room was too dark to make out more than the shadowiest outline of her chiseled profile - Grecian nose, smooth forehead, high cheekbones, and a mouth just a trace too large and so expressive that it gave her a vulnerable quality. Naturally wavy chestnut hair framed her face and fell in tousled curls around her swan-like white neck and onto her naked shoulders. Below, the full mounds of her breasts could just barely be discerned beneath the thin blue nylon of her summer nightie, their darker nipples poking against the fabric as her breath came faster and faster.
I look just the same as ever, Vicki reflected. How can I feel so ugly inside and not have it show on the outside?
"Shit, you beautiful bitch!" Gregory's sudden outburst startled the frustrated Vicki out of her reverie. As he continued to groan out obscenities, she unconsciously allowed her hand to stray back down between her legs. "Harder, baby! Harder! Holy Christ, I'm gonna give you my cum right in your sweet, suckin' mouth!"
The uncontrolled animal passion in the man's voice sent flames flaring out of control deep within the innocent eavesdropper's fire-filled vagina, and she was unable to stop herself from accelerating her delicate finger touch to an insistent massage of her desire-dampened crotchband. Beneath the moist nylon, the hardening bud of her nerve-filled clitoris rose in erotic excitement, sending out a spasm of pleasure which made the lewd grunts and cries in the next room seem inciting instead of horrifying.
Closing her eyes as if that might somehow obliterate the sinful reality of what she was doing, Vicki let out a muffled whimper of resignation and slipped a timid finger inside the elastic waistband of her pajama panties. Wicked thrills of forbidden excitement shot through her bloodstream as she felt the silken-soft dampness of her own vaginal flesh and as tendrils of fine brown pubic hair teased at her trembling hand, she let her middle finger trace a bold path from the jutting mound of her curl-covered pussy all the way down to her puckered little anus.
Since her traumatic marriage had dried up the wells of normal feminine desires, Vicki Marsten had felt no desire to masturbate. It had been quite a different story during her adolescence, however, and she remembered with shame many occasions when she'd succumbed to the temptation of what her mother called "unnatural practices". Especially after returning from dates with Mitch, she'd found sleep impossible without quelling the burning fires which raged in her frustrated vagina, and she'd been compelled to press and rub her girlish thighs together to satisfy her frenzied need.
Now, leaning against the cool tile wall of the bathroom, she allowed herself to do what she'd always considered the most despicable thing of all - insert her own finger into her cuntal channel. As a teenager she'd fantasized about doing this, but hadn't dared to try anything so obscene until this nightmarish moment.
Mortified, but driven by forces too fierce to control, she shoved her finger in and out of the moistly clasping channel in rhythm to the wanton chorus of groans, wet sucking sounds, and protesting bedsprings.
"Aaaahhh," she heard her own voice echo in the small bathroom, and at once stifled her outburst. God, what if she woke up Mitch and he saw what she was doing? Or what if the others heard her?
For some strange reason, the thought of being discovered in her unforgivable act of masturbation sent a unexplainable quiver of arousal abandoned shooting along her nerve-endings. No longer caring about the immorality of what she was doing, Vicki began circling her sensitive clitoral bud with her thumb at the same time she insinuated another finger in her pulsating vagina. It had been so long since she'd felt any physical desire that she was almost fainting with excitement and would have collapsed had she not been leaning against the blue-flowered tiles.
The impassioned man's wail faded into a strangled grown of ecstasy, and the eavesdropping nineteen year old heard a gulping, sucking sound. Was her friend Claudia actually swallowing her boss's sperm? It was unspeakable! She'd never imagined such a sordid thing in all her life!
Suddenly something clicked in Vicki's lust-confused brain and she looked down at herself in appalled disgust. The sight of her upraised nightgown and her own hand inserted inside her blue nylon panties sent a shudder shivering along her spine, and she quickly pulled away her traitorous fingers. There was a soft sluicing sound as they popped from the desire-drenched cuntal channel, but the guilt-stricken brunette never heard it as a loud shriek from the adjourning room drowned out all other noise.
"Aaaarrrhhhh!" shrilled a feminine voice which Vicki identified as belonging to Dale Varden. "Yes! Do it like that! Lick me right there! Eeeeehhhhhh!"
I'm getting out of here. I don't have to listen to this! Vicki silently told her reflection in the mirror above the sink. It's going to drive me crazy if I hear another minute of it! With one last glance toward her wild-eyed, flushed-cheeked face, the distressed young wife snuck from the bathroom, then paused in the doorway to stare at the shadowy bulk of her husband beneath the covers. I can't stand to go back to bed, either, she decided, twisting her slender hands together nervously as an ecstatic feminine moan echoed from the room beyond. In her innermost heart, she knew that if Mitch had awakened and wanted to make love, she'd have been beside him in an instant - but she chose to ignore her own knowledge. I'll take a little walk. . . that'll clear up my head, she told herself.
Chapter FIVE
Outside, the magical panorama of stars had blurred into thick clouds, and a light mist was falling. Vicki shivered and clutched her light nightgown close to her body, wishing she'd thrown on a robe but loathe to reenter the cottage. As she stood indecisively by the wall of the chalet-type cabin, toes curling in the damp grass she suddenly realized that the sounds of the orgy were still ringing in her ears. The squeals and moans were much softer out here . . . but if she were to walk around to the other side of the house . . .
A strange light flickered in the overwrought brunette's large blue eyes as she began to move robot-like in the direction of the voices, and her pussy began to burn with the same relentless fire she'd been feeling earlier in the bathroom. She had to see it - had to know if her friend Dale was really allowing her husband to touch her vagina with his mouth. No power on earth was strong enough to keep her away from the beam of light beyond a clump of honeysuckles, the light which she guessed came from their bedroom.
A branch crackled under her feet as the barefoot brunette stepped from the lawn into the bushes beneath the bedroom window, and her heart caught in her throat at the possibility of being caught spying on her friends like some sort of sex maniac. Her fears were groundless; the two couples on the enormous double bed were so noisily absorbed in their activities that they wouldn't even have heard a large tree crashing in the woods outside.
Curiosity overcoming her trepidation, Vicki fell to her knees on the damp ground so that her face was pressed against the window box and her eager eyes were staring into the bedroom through a row of plastic geraniums. It was a perfect view, and an excellent hiding place, but even if she'd been taking a much graver risk she'd have been unable to tear herself away from the sight which met her eyes.
As the eavesdropping gjrl had surmised from the sounds, Dale Varden's golden-fringed pussy was indeed being tongue-fucked - but by Gregory Payne instead of her husband! The petite blonde lay spread-eagled on her back, her face contorted in obvious passion as the dark-haired man crouched between her suntanned thighs and snaked his tongue into her wantonly offered vagina like a ravenous animal.
For a moment Vicki was too dazed by this depraved sight to take in any more of the details. Her eyes widened as she gaped at Payne's saliva- and perspiration-slickened face and maniacal expression, and all of a sudden she remembered how she'd danced with him, how his swollen penis had pressed against her and ignited the fierce fires of desire in her formerly frigid loins. Why, it might easily have been she lying there now beneath his obscenely lapping tongue, moaning and mewling in helpless surrender to his perverted oral caresses!
A long shudder ran through the thinly clad brunette, but though the night air was chill in the mountains, her shivering came from inner turmoil rather than any external cause. Disgusting as it was, she knew she wanted to be in Dale Varden's place on that bed!
Oh, God help me! she cried silently. I'm as sick as they are! I'm a dirty-minded voyeur and I LIKE to see the awful things they're doing. And I want to do them, too!
Just as the frustrated young wife's hand was hovering against her pulsating cuntal slit and her conscience was fighting a losing battle with her frustrated flesh, her attention shifted to the far end of the bed. There, lying flat on her back between her boss's legs, was Claudia - and she had Payne's enormous, angry-red penis inside her mouth! And on top of her - oh, it was too obscene to be true! - was Vince, ramming his huge thickness into her auburn-haired pussy with such force that her whole body shook from the impact of his downstrokes.
For several long moments Vicki was paralyzed with shock. Scarcely able to breath, she knelt outside the bedroom window trying to absorb the unlimited boundaries of her friends' depravity. How could anyone, especially nice, normal girls whom she'd known all her life, allow their bodies to be violated in such wicked ways?
Gradually, however, Vicki's shock diminished and the direction of her thoughts changed as a fluttering sensation spread from her re-dampened pussy to every nerve ending in her trembling body. What does Dale feel like with that long tongue touching her down there where it's so sensitive? her mind whirled. I must feel warm and wet. . . much more exciting than a finger. And what about Claudia - don't her lips hurt from being stretched so far. . . doesn't she feel like choking with that great big thing pulsing so far inside her mouth?
Fascinated in spite of herself, Vicki stared at Claudia's flame-colored head bobbing upward to meet the brutal thrusts of her employer's iron-hard cock. Suddenly the man let out a strangled roar, his entire body growing rigid save for his mouth and tongue which continued their lewd ravishment of the moaning blonde's vagina.
"Yeah! I'm there! I'm cuummmmmminnnggggg! Aaarrrgggg!" the advertising executive wailed, and an instant later the redhead was gulping and choking. Life-giving sperm ballooned her cheeks and her eyes shone with lurid pleasure as she struggled to swallow every last drop of his shooting load.
Unbeknownst to the three orgiasts, the watching woman's hand had once again slipped up under her nightgown hem. At the first touch of her finger to her tender cuntal tissue, she knew that she was going to reach climax, and reach it far more quickly than ever before in her nineteen years. Flashes of liquid lightning blazed through her blood, making her breath come in short panting gasps as she rested her burning forehead upon the wooden window box.
Inside, the wantonly entangled couples were all reaching their climaxes, and their ecstasy was so obvious that it obliterated the last twinges of the young voyeur's guilt. The two fingers she'd thrust inside her tumescent vagina stroked in and out as fast as she could propel them, while her thumb massaged her tingling clitoris to a hard nub of blissful sensation. In another minute, she knew she'd be cumming along with the rest!
Sticky white rivulets of sperm were trickling obscenely down her girlfriend Claudia's pink cheeks as her slender body writhed in the throes of passion beneath another woman's husband's pistoning penis. Suddenly there was a loud groan from Vince, and then the voluptuous redhead's loins rose up to meet his last mighty thrust.
"Uuuuugggghhhh .. . aaaggghhhh ..." She choked out her delight in a cock-muffled voice which sent icy shivers of excitement rippling through the spying brunette outside. "Yyyaaahhhhhh!"
Vicki's eyes bugged out from their sockets in prurient fascination as she saw that cream-white threads of male cum were seeping out onto Claudia's firm-fleshed thighs as well as onto her lust-twisted face. The mere thought of having two men abuse her helpless body at the same time was so wickedly thrilling that Vicki's finders sped still faster into her aching vagina, and an involuntary whimper burst from her parched lips.
Be quiet! some last remnant of sanity cautioned. Do you want them to find you out here finger-fucking yourself like a common slut?
Though Vicki heard the warning ring in her brain, she was too aroused by now to pay it much heed. The normally self-controlled and modest nineteen year old had been transformed by the salacious spectacle she was witnessing into a mindless mass of feminine flesh whose only concern was satisfaction of her animal needs.
"Oooooohhhhhh!" she murmured again as the waves of pleasure in her finger-titillated cuntal passage surged more strongly. "Ohhhh, pleeeaaassse ..."
Inside the bedroom, the four pleasure-sated bodies had collapsed in a jumbled heap upon the big bed, their sweat-slickened flesh shimmering in the dim light of the kerosene lamp. Soft purrs and mewls of post-orgasmic contentment were the only sounds they uttered as they struggled to catch their breath, and in this sudden quiet Dale, who lay nearest the open window, slowly grew aware of a peculiar sound.
Maybe it's only an animal, she told herself, but I bet it's Vicki! There was no way she couldn't have heard all the racket we were making - that was part of the plan!
Curiosity and concern about her girlhood friend quickly overcame the petite blonde's peaceful, satisfied sense of inertia, and she struggled away from the tangle of bodies so suddenly that the girl outside hadn't a chance to move a muscle before Dale's face appeared at the window. Vicki caught a whiff of the erotic scent of lovemaking - male and female fluids laced with perspiration - as she knelt on the ground, frozen with fright. It seemed as though her girlfriend's eyes had caught sight of her, but then the gaze immediately flicked off into the dark woods beyond and she couldn't be sure.
Not daring to breathe for fear of being detected, the guilty brunette shut her eyes in a subconscious superstitious hope that this would prevent her girlfriend from seeing her. Her fingers were still humiliatingly inserted in her now-numb vagina, for she didn't dare risk taking them out and making a sound. Never in her entire life had she been in such a disastrous situation; it was as though she were simultaneously experiencing every nightmare she'd had in her young life.
"Whatcha doin', honey?" the anguished voyeur heard Vince Varden exclaim. "C'mon back here! We ain't finished with this night yet, not by a long shot!"
"I hope not, lover!" Dale responded glibly.
She'd seen her high school friend crouched in the honeysuckle bushes, her hand up under her blue nightie, but had hurriedly averted her eyes so as not to embarrass her. Nor was she about to tell the others, at least not until she'd thought things over and seen how Vicki reacted tomorrow morning.
"I'm just kinda cold, in my birthday suit like this. Just shutting the window, that's all."
"Well, hurry up about it," Vince growled. He enjoyed being aggressive and authoritarian when involved in a swap scene like this one, and he knew it turned his wife on as much as it did him. "This here cock of mine's just about ready to taste that sweet little mouth of yours!"
Vicki's breath hissed from her lungs in grateful relief as the latticed window banged shut and she heard Dale fastening the shutters. Even with everything securely locked, she could still make out faint sounds as the uninhibited orgy resumed, but fear had temporarily killed her lust. Shuddering in self-repugnance, she removed her hand from her moistened vaginal channel and silently crept away from the cabin, bitter tears flooding up in her eyes at the realization of what she had just done.
"Did Dale see me?" she muttered to the windblown trees. "How can I ever face any of them again?"
Now that she was away from the shelter of the cottage's overhanging eaves and the honeysuckle bushes, Vicki noticed that it had begun to rain in earnest. Nevertheless, she continued to stand in the backyard, staring blindly at the starless sky and shadowy mountains through tear-distorted eyes. At last her feet carried her will-less back toward the entrance of the bedroom she'd been assigned to share with her husband. Shivering from the chill September night, she crawled back under the warm covers and lay ramrod-still for several minutes. Mitch, from the sound of his low, regular snores, was still sound asleep.
I want to die! she thought as her burning eyes focused unseeingly on the quaintly beamed ceiling of Gregory Payne's luxurious mountain retreat. I don't know how I'll ever look my only real friends in the eye again, and I can't even blame them because I know that I'm just as sick and degenerate as they are. Maybe I should just go away - join a convent, or get a job in some city where no one knows me.
Even in the throes of the most acute misery she'd ever experienced, however, the nineteen year old wife was sufficiently cognizant of the flaws in her plans for running away. Only Catholics became nuns, she knew, and her family had been Methodist; and she'd flunked typing in high school, always having assumed she'd marry Mitch and therefore never applying herself to the tedious chore of learning the touch system. There were other sorts of jobs, of course - waitressing and the like - but she had only about five dollars in her wallet, and that wouldn't even get her out of this Arkansas wilderness.
"Ooohhhhh, yeah, lover!" she heard a female's voice echo dimly through the cabin walls. "That's it! Right there! Deep down inside me! Harder! Fuck me harder!"
A chorus of faint groans and muffled love-cries teased at Vicki's ears, and though she desperately tried to ignore the noises, she found to her acute dismay that she was once again swamped with an uncontrollable flood of physical arousal. Sighing deeply, she turned on her side and gazed sadly at the snoring figure beside her, trying to swallow her pride enough to wake him with a gesture that would tell him she wanted to make love.
It seemed certain that she could respond to her husband in the over-excited state her body was in, and if she could prove to him that she was able to be a real woman, a true wife, then perhaps all of tonight's shocking ugliness would have been worthwhile. Saving their marriage was the only really important thing, for Vicki Marsten couldn't even begin to visualize life without the one and only man she'd ever loved.
Just as the timid brunette was reaching out a rather shaky hand to stroke Mitch's tousled blond hair, the tall man groaned in his sleep and rolled further away from her. Her hand shot back under the sheet, and she automatically shifted away until there was enough space between them for a third person.
He's only dreaming... it didn't mean anything, Vicki tried to reassure herself, but she could not bring herself to make another overture. What if he rebuffed her because of the vulgar way she'd danced with Gregory Payne? She'd never be able to bear that!
It seemed to Vicki that she lay awake for hours trying not to hear the obscene sounds coming from the next room, trying to erase the thought of all she'd seen through the open window. Finally she drifted off into a restless sleep, only to awaken from a disturbing dream just as the sky beyond the mountains was turning a misty, pearl-pink color and birds were beginning to chorus loudly in the tall trees surrounding the cabin.
Vicki's sleep-blurred eyes stared vacantly out the window on Mitch's side of the bed, but the dream had left her too distraught to perceive the beauty of the mountain sunrise.
I wanted it to happen like in the dream! her brain screamed in a moment of poignant self awareness. I wanted Mitch to find me watching through the window and come up behind and. .. and rape me, fuck me till I was screaming and exploding inside! And then I wanted the others to hear us, so we all six could be together doing everything to each other! Oh God! I must be really sick to feel that way! Or... or maybe I've got things all twisted up... I mean, that must be the way Dale and Claudia feel, too. Oh, I don't know! I just don't know any more . . .
The sun rose over the horizon, a glowing ball of crimson fire hovering over the distant purple hills, but Vicki never noticed it. Her tangled chestnut curls were buried in her pillow as she choked back hot tears and tried to puzzle out the way her life had altered in the past twenty-four hours.
Chapter SIX
There was some sort of large insect droning incessantly over Vicki Marsten's sheet-shrouded head, and the sunlight streamed so brightly through the half-open window that she felt like a Christmas pudding steaming in the oven. She longed for a long, cleansing shower, but there were still voices moving about the cottage and she couldn't bring herself to face the other girls yet. Last night's events were still too vivid in her mind to enable her to act at all natural with her best friends.
Restlessly kicking off the sheet, Vicki noticed with a shudder that there were grass and dirt stains on her pale blue nightgown. This concrete evidence brought on a fresh flood of shame for the perverted thrills she'd experienced as an unseen voyeur, and she glared balefully at the sun-drenched pastoral scene outside her window.
I was so happy to be going to this lovely place, she thought bitterly. Well, if I'd known what sort of weekend it would turn out to be, I'd have rather stayed in Cedarburg the rest of my life.
A fragrant odor of coffee and toast drifted in from the kitchen, but even though the troubled brunette suddenly realized she was hungry and thirsty, she couldn't bring herself to budge from the relative safety of her bed. It filled her with sadness to think that it was the best friends she had in the world she was avoiding; if you had neither a husband who loved you nor friends to trust, you might as well be dead.
Wiping away a self-pitying tear, Vicki dragged herself out of bed at last. Lying here agonizing wouldn't do any good; no, better to carry on a pretense of normalcy until she'd figured out what she ought to do. Maybe if she spoke with Dale and Claudia, she'd be able to understand things better.
But what if Dale really did see me peering in through the bedroom window like a filthy-minded Peeping Tom? Vicki's confused thoughts continued as she vigorously soaped her voluptuous body. And even if she didn't see me - oh, God, I hope not! - how can I even begin to start discussing something like this? It's just too embarrassing ... I suppose I could ask them for advice about Mitch, but even that's too hard to talk about.
At the thought of her husband, the young wife's spirits brightened a little. He, together with Vince and Gregory, had left several hours ago for a fishing excursion on the nearby White River, hangovers forgotten as they resumed their animated discussion of rods and reels and techniques. Although she'd feigned sleep as he foraged noisily in the bathroom for Alka-Seltzer and toothbrush, Mitch had caught a glimpse of her eyes peeping from under the sheet and had come toward her.
"Don't look so sad, honey," he'd said with unexpected tenderness. "It's a beautiful day and everything's gonna start goin' better for us, too. Cheer up! You'll see, everything's gonna be all right."
Then, after planting a loving, toothpaste-scented kiss on her lips, he'd clattered out the door to join the other men. Of course, he'd never have been so nice if he'd known how sluttishly she'd behaved the night before, but his warm gesture still made her feel better. If only she, too, could hold some real hope for the future . ..
To Vicki's intense relief, Dale and Claudia were gone when she finally made her way to the kitchen. A note on the table read: "Gone swimming down by the stream. Come on down when you get up, lazybones! Dale and Claudia."
If Dale had really seen her spying on their orgy, she wouldn't be able to write so casually, Vicki tried to assure herself. But then she remembered that her girlfriends had deceived her for God knows how long about their swapping activities . . . how could she know what to believe now? Sighing, the skimpily-clad brunette poured herself some lukewarm coffee and began washing the stack of cups and saucers in the sink. No, she'd just stay around the cottage, explore a bit and lie in the sun. Hopefully, by lunchtime she'd be in better shape to confront the others.
In her absorption in her problems, she never noticed the peculiar fact that both cars were gone from the front drive.
* * *
As Dale and Claudia, dressed in the tiniest possible bikinis, made their way down a deeply rutted dirt road in the Vardens' Chevrolet, their thoughts were just as much concerned with Vicki Marsten as the troubled brunette's were with them. Dale had, after some consideration, decided to confide in Claudia. After all, the redhead had always been the brightest of them, the one who found solutions to impossible problems.
"Watching us, huh," Claudia murmured after Dale had finished relating her story. "And masturbating. Interesting . . . very interesting." The elegant auburn-haired model paused to stare out the window at the dense thicket through which they were passing, then continued. "Well, I think that sounds like our plan's more likely to work than ever, don't you?"
"Oh, I don't know ..." Dale sounded a little worried, and she began biting her full pink lower lip indecisively as she maneuvered the automobile around a large fallen pine. "I s'pose. Unless she was too shocked, or something. I tried to pretend I hadn't seen her, but I don't know what she thought. I mean, she didn't get out of bed till we left this morning, did she?"
"She'd embarrassed, of course," Claudia's voice was cool, confident. "And she's also very suggestible: I remember that from school days, when she'd join the swim team 'cause I told her it was a good thing, or the Pep Club, or whatever. She always looks at what other people are up to before she leaps. And look at the way she believed all that shit her mother pumped into her about men. Gullible! So last night she saw us - and this morning she's wondering. Right?"
"Yeah... I guess so." Dale's face turned pink, an unusual occurrence for the self-assured blonde; but then the plan Claudia had dreamed up was extraordinary enough to make Cleopatra blush. "You . . . you really think we should go ahead with this?" she asked.
"Of course! Why not?" Claudia let out a low, sultry laugh. "It'll be fun to get my hands on Mitch Marsten after all these years, and I know you've had the hots for him as long as I have, Dale - don't deny it!"
"But. . . but maybe we're going too far."
The glamorous redhead waved a well-manicured hand in a scoffing gesture. "Really, Dale! Don't talk like you don't know anything more about the world than Cedarburg, Kansas."
The petite blonde blushed redder than ever, but fell silent. Sometimes she wasn't at all sure she liked Claudia much. Certainly, Claudia was the most beautiful, glamorous, and intelligent woman of her acquaintance . . . but, well, she wasn't very compassionate. Vicki, even though she was admittedly the not-too-bright sort who was easily maneuvered, was also the type who wouldn't hurt a person, animal or plant if she could possibly help it.
Before either girl could say more, they caught sight of Gregory Payne's mud-spattered, new-model Plymouth, looking incongruous in its parking place in a forest glade. Vince and Greg stepped out of the car as the girls pulled to a stop, broad grins of anticipation on their faces.
"Shhhhh!" Vince held his finger to his lips. "Mitch is just down that bank, by the river. Everything's worked out just fine. We told him we were going off to see some guy 'bout plans for this nightclub I have in mind, and told him you gals would pick him up 'bout lunchtime."
"Oh, Vince, honey," Dale appealed to her husband. "Do you really think it's a good idea?"
"Why the hell not?" he demanded, teasingly tweaking her nipples through the sheer nylon fabric of her red and black bikini.
"Too late to stop us now, anyway," added Gregory. "After last night, I wanna get my hands on that stuck-up little broad so bad that nothing's going to stop me!"
"Don't worry about a thing," Claudia assured them. "We'll keep Mitch out of the way while you teach Vicki a few lessons about fucking. With pleasure!" Her red-nailed finger traced a suggestive path across her skimpy pale green lace bikini bottoms.
"Just don't be too rough," Dale still sounded worried. "Don't scare her or anything."
"What's got into you, anyway?" Vince sounded rather irritated at his wife's reluctance. "You were the one who wanted to turn on your uptight girlfriend. Okay, so we're gonna do just that!"
"C'mon, let's get moving," Gregory urged. "This thing may have been inspired by high-minded motives, but at the moment I'm inspired by the beginning of an enormous hard-on."
Claudia grinned lewdly at her boss and got out of the car, Dale following suit. The two males got in and started the motor, and then Gregory stuck his head out the window for a parting shot.
"And you girls take it easy with Mitch, hear! If the object of this is to save their marriage, you'd better leave a little something left over for Vicki!"
Giggling, the girls made their way down a faint footpath leading down the bank toward the river. Mitch's figure could be seen far below, standing beside the water with a fishing line in one hand and a cigarette in the other. There was no other sign of life save for the chattering birds and multi-color butterflies, and the young women's pulses quickened as they thought of the illicit acts which they were going to perform in complete privacy with their best friend's unsuspecting husband.
Mitch turned quickly as he heard sticks and brambles crackling on the path behind him. At first he couldn't see who was approaching, for the bright sun glinting off the water almost blinded him, and when he did recognize the two girls he was at first a little irritated. It had been nice and peaceful all alone here after Vince and Gregory had rather abruptly disappeared, the fish had started biting, and he'd been able to think rationally about his marriage without all the usual distractions. When he caught sight of their skimpy bikinis, however, his rugged face brightened into a welcoming grin.
"Hi there," he greeted them. "Didn't expect to see you till 'round noon." He glanced at his wristwatch - it read ten-thirty. "Feel like trying your hand at a bit of fishing?"
The two young women merely giggled and moved in so that they stood on either side of him, their virtually naked loins almost grazing his swim-suit-clad figure in such a provocative way that Mitch's attention immediately focused completely upon them. His eyes drifted down over Dale's half-naked curves, and he reddened as he remembered his intention of getting her off alone in the woods. Shit, if she weren't with Claudia now he didn't think he'd be able to stop himself.
The diminutive blonde felt his eyes gliding over her body, sensing them pausing at her straining, low-cut bikini top and then locking on the strip of green lace which made a pretense of covering her slightly protruding pubic mound. Smiling seductively, she followed his eyes and saw that several curling tendrils of golden pubic hair had escaped from the tight legband of the panties. Then, so pointedly that Mitch could not fail to catch her intent, she stared directly at the swelling protuberance in his nylon swim-trunks.
For the briefest second the two girl's eyes met in a gleeful flicker of triumph. So far, the plan was working exactly as they'd hoped!
"What do you think he's looking at?" Dale asked Claudia in an artificial tone which gave Mitch the uncomfortable feeling of being a spectator rather than a participant in this bizarre conversation.
"I bet he's looking at that cute bikini you got in LA!" Claudia gave a husky laugh. " 'Specially at the way those pretty little cunt hairs are sticking out!"
"Do you s'pose Mitch'd like to have a look at my whole pussy, Claudia?" Dale's voice quivered with excitement as she observed Marsten's penis thicken and his face redden. It gave her a strange thrill to see the power she had over their former classmate and her growing arousal drowned out the last of her nagging doubts about Claudia's plan to seduce Mitch by performing a lesbian act until he was too turned on to resist joining in their lewd games and breaking his marriage vows. Though she'd never done anything like that in her life, the idea of behaving with such incredible wantonness was curiously stimulating.
"I think," the redhead purred in her sultriest voice, "That Mitch wants me to take off your bikini so he can see your lovely body."
Marsten's face contorted in confusion as he saw that Claudia Champlin was doing exactly what she'd said she would. His tongue snaked nervously over his suddenly parched lips and he gulped in embarrassment as he grew alarmingly aware of the throbbing bulge in his tight trunks.
Jesus! Dreaming semi-seriously about seducing Dale Varden had been one thing - but this! What in God's name had gotten into his wife's girlfriends to make them act like this? Part of him wished they'd stop, for he didn't want to lose self-control after the optimistic feeling he'd had this morning with Vicki... but the more compelling voice in his soul wanted to watch them play out the salacious spectacle.
The sophisticated redhead's slim fingers slipped inside her blonde friend's bikini bottoms, cupping her lushly rounded buttocks for an instant and then tugging the tiny scrap of material off. Never taking her eyes from Mitch's bemused face, she softly stroked Dale's sparsely curling blonde pubic "vee" with one hand while with the other she undid the back fastening on the brassiere.
"This is the way Mitch wants to see you - all naked out in the middle of the woods with no one else around," murmured Claudia.
"What else does he want?" Dale's voice was low and breathless as she fell into the spirit of the game they'd planned. Once again, she was giving her redheaded friend credit for an extraordinary intelligence. This was more exciting than anything they'd done or seen in Los Angeles!
Claudia pursed her scarlet-painted lips as she glanced at the red-faced, noticeably disturbed young husband, and then the raspberry tip of her tongue darted hungrily out of her mouth in the classic gesture of provocation.
"I think he wants to see me make you hot," she said at last. "He wants me to put my finger up inside your soft little pussy, and suck your breasts, and then ..."
The tall, auburn-haired model let her sentence trail off in tantalizing promise of what was to come as she grazed her right hand over Dale's golden pussy mound. Then, taking the other girl's full breasts in her hands, she gently guided her to a kneeling position on the sandy riverbank. Mitch stood a few feet away from them, his breath coming in audible gasps at the incredible sight of the two girls he'd known since high school days moving into an erotic lesbian embrace.
Could he possibly be dreaming? Mitch asked himself, but one glance at the fishing rod in his hand and the pails of worms and fish at his feet convinced him that he was definitely wide awake. Nothing like this had ever happened to him in his life - it was just like the stories Vince had told about Hollywood, or the sex-shows in Scandinavia and Amsterdam that one of his buddies in Vietnam was always going on about. Perhaps he was betraying Vicki by not walking away, but what red-blooded American guy could resist a temptation like this?
"Aaahhhh," the naked blonde sighed softly as Claudia's middle finger teased at her blonde pussy "vee" for a moment and then slipped with an obscene sluicing noise up into her excitement-moistened cuntal channel.
Mitch's incredulous eyes bugged from his head at his old classmate's blissful moan and the glimpse he'd caught of coral-pink cuntal flesh. He couldn't take his eyes from the prurient sight of the redhead's four scarlet-nailed fingers nestling in Dale's pale gold pussy curls - and one nail hidden up inside her fair - fringed vagina! For a brief instant a vision of his wife's innocent, woebegone face as he'd seen it before he left that very morning swam before his lust-glazed eyes, but it was almost immediately dispelled by the slow re-emergence of Claudia's fingertip from between her blonde friend's thighs.
"Christ!" he muttered under his breath, not even aware that he'd spoken aloud.
Sticky feminine secretions glistened on the redhead's middle finger as she slowly lifted her hand toward her face and licked the fluid away. All the while, her teasing eyes challenged the stupefied young husband.
"Look at Mitch," Claudia turned back to Dale at last. "I think he liked seeing me stick my finger in your pussy, honey. Let's try it once more to make sure."
The naked blonde whimpered something incoherent so overcome by her own wicked corruption that she could scarcely move her parched lips. Though she'd not admitted anything of the sort to her more sophisticated city girl friend, her experience in this sort of thing was very minimal. Once, after watching one of her brother-in-law's large collection of Scandinavian blue movies called "Four Women Alone", and after consuming almost half a bottle of Pernod, she'd sucked her husband's cock together with an equally intoxicated college girl who paid her tuition by dancing topless at Art Varden's nightclub. This incident had not quite prepared her for being finger-fucked by another woman, but since she'd not wanted to seem like the "small-town hick" Claudia kept calling her, she'd pretended not to be shocked when the plan was proposed.
Now, to the petite blonde's astonishment, raging flames of arousal were shooting out from her finger-impaled vagina to every sensitized nerve-ending in her body. Part of her excitement stemmed from the delicious thrill of doing something strictly forbidden in front of the man she'd been longing to seduce for years, and part was sheer surprise at how wonderful Claudia's gentle finger felt as it surged back up between her trembling cuntal lips.
Oh, it's like Heaven! Dale's pleasure-demented mind cried. She knows just where to rub and press inside me. . . and her thumb on my clit, too!. . . and Mitch's eyes popping out of his head and his cock out of his trunks!
Mitch shivered as the taller girl's finger shot back up insider her friend's unprotected pussy, pushing back the damp pink folds of her vaginal lips until it was imbedded all the way to the third knuckle. His gaze shifted back and forth between the two beautiful young women, lingering first on the blonde he'd dreamed of fucking all week long, then on the statuesque redhead whom had once, long ago, attempted to rub her newly developed body up against him in the bushes outside the house where she was babysitting.
He remembered the feel of those breasts for the first time in years . . . and now they were rubbing up against Dale Varden's naked body, the nubby lace fabric of the redhead's bikini top teasing Dale's full, reddish, brown nipples into taut miniature erections. Suddenly he wished that Claudia, too, would take off her bathing suit so that both girls would be kneeling totally naked in the sand before him.
As though she were reading his mind, the red-haired model murmured to her friend, "I think Mitch wants you to take off my bikini, too. He wants us both naked."
There was a low sucking sound as Claudia's middle finger once again slipped from Dale's swollen red cuntal lips, followed by a soft cooing sound as their lips met in a spontaneous kiss. Despite her giddy sense of erotic delight, the curvaceous blonde had no difficulty in unsnapping her friend's brassiere and tugging her wispy green lace panties down over her slender hips. Obviously she could scarcely wait to get her hands on her friend's most intimate flesh. I gotta get the hell outta here before I rape both of 'em, Ted told himself, but his feet refused to budge. He felt hypnotized by the girls' sensual performance, and the fact that they were Vicki's best friends and that what the three of them were doing out here would wound his sensitive, naive wife irreparably made no difference. He had to see if they would really go all the way and make indecent lesbian love, as Claudia had hinted they would. Christ, they seemed to be enjoying themselves - he'd always thought only perverts got a kick out of kinky stuff like this.
"Uuummmmmm . . . goooooddddd . . ." Claudia whispered as her bikini bottoms were pulled over her high-arched white feet by her quivering girl friend. She'd begun to suspect that this might be the first time Dale had tried anything like this, despite her claims of wide experience, and for some reason this made her all the more excited.
Beads of perspiration broke out on Mitch Marsten's handsome face and his fishing pole dropped unnoticed onto the grass at his feet. Though he was still trying to convince himself that he didn't want to get physically involved in this lewd scene and destroy whatever possibility there was of saving his five month-old marriage, his face had taken on the look of an unattended youngster staring at a richly laden candy counter.
The contrast between the slim, auburn-haired Claudia and the curvaceous blonde Dale was not only esthetically pleasing, but also unbearably erotic. Each young girl was, in her own way, a perfect example of a certain type of feminine beauty; together they merged into the essence of sensual womanhood. Claudia's breasts were smaller than her petite girl friend's, but they were perfectly rounded and had bright strawberry-pink nipples which made Mitch suddenly want to take them in his mouth and suck until she screamed for mercy.
The goddamn cock-teasing bitch! he screamed inwardly as his fully erect throbbed painfully against his swimming trunks. She's been trying to do this for years! Jesus, I'd like to ram my cock into that stuck-up ass of hers and teach her a good lesson.
He turned to Dale, and though she was cooing in a soft, vulnerable way and appeared to be as mesmerized by the redhead model as he himself was, his self-righteous rage only increased. That little yellow-haired bitch had been driving him crazy, too, and he couldn't stand much more of it. How he longed to rush up behind those billowing, milk-white ass-cheeks and plunge up between them with his iron-hard thickness!
The lust-demented husband's reverie was interrupted by a low whisper from Claudia, who'd pulled the smaller girl down so that they lay side by side on the grass with their naked breasts and contrasting gold and red pussies just barely touching.
"Mitch wants me to kiss your cunt, Dale. And you'd like that too, wouldn't you?"
The sensuous blonde housewife threw Marsten a glance which caused him to break out in a cold sweat.
"Yes, oh yessss ..." she purred. "If Mitch wants me to ... "
Suddenly the T.V. repairman's legs turned to water and he sank to a sitting position on the river bank, his muscular, six-foot frame crumpling as though he were a marionette manipulated by forces far beyond his control. They're really gonna do it! his mind whirled in disbelief. They're gonna go all the way! Shit, what if Vicki knew. . . ! But I don 7 give a damn! I don't even want to think about her.
Dale Varden's eyes fixed on his crotch, while the graceful redhead positioned herself so that her lovely face was directly up against the other girl's sparse, cornsilk-yellow pussy curls. Swirls of vehement desire churned within his scrotum as he sensed the desire radiating from her blue eyes, and his passion heightened as his intentions of remaining faithful to Vicki vanished. Why not he rationalized rather dizzily as Claudia's raspberry-textured tongue snaked out toward the curling gold tendrils fringing her girl friend's pinkly glistening cuntal slit. Why the hell shouldn't I have myself a good time once and awhile too, like Vince and Greg must do? I'm sick of being a nice guy all the time.
Dale saw a subtle change come over the avidly watching man's craggy-featured face, a sort of hardening of the month and determination in the eyes which told her that his male passion had taken control over his feelings of responsibility toward his wife and his shock at their lesbian embrace. Good! she thought, he'll be joining in before long! Then, as Claudia's skillful tongue stopped nibbling at her cuntal curls and abruptly circled around her pulsing vaginal lips, she had no thought for anything except the exquisite physical sensations which coursed through her willingly offered body.
"Ooohhhhh," she heard herself whimper. "Oh, God! Oh, it's goooooddddddd!" Without realizing what she was doing, she'd begun grinding her fire-filled vagina up toward the other girl in a lewd, undulating motion.
Claudia stared down in triumph at the squirming cuntal flesh of her high school friend, gloating in the fact that she was introducing Dale to a new and thrilling sexual activity. Her pleasurable anticipation was heightened by the fact that Mitch Marsten, who'd had the nerve to reject her advances so many years ago, was now an avid voyeur. Then, as her tongue encountered the bittersweet moisture of the wriggling blonde's desire-dampened vagina, she forgot all else save the delicious taste of forbidden feminine flesh.
"Uuuuuugghhhhh," the naked redhead mewled, her voice muffled as her mouth pressed close up against Dale's narrow vaginal slit and saliva gathered in her throat at the taste of the other woman's feminine secretions. She let her tongue trail hungrily down between the two cream-white mounds of her friend's excitedly tensed ass-cheeks, teased briefly at the puckered rose-bud of her anus, then slowly snaked back toward the puffy pink petals of the girl's eagerly flowering vagina.
One last time, Mitch's weakening conscience commanded him to leave. Even if he had to walk the fifteen-some miles back to the cabin, he would be better off than if he watched this depraved lesbian coupling one moment longer. Yet as he saw Claudia lock her fair-skinned face between Dale's spasmodically clutching thighs, his fervid excitement increased and his sense of obligation toward his faltering marriage faded.
"Jesus!" he mumbled under this breath as his hand involuntarily groped toward the aching bulge in his nylon swim trunks. I'm not being unfaithful or anything like that, he rationalized longing to stroke his throbbing hard-on. I'm just watching. . . that's all. . .
Neither girl heard Mitch's low cry, for a shrill wail of rapture from Dale had drowned out everything else. Of course she'd felt the exquisite pleasure of having a tongue invade her most private feminine flesh, but never had anyone known how to arouse her as this other woman did. To her amazement, she realized that Claudia could bring her to the point of climax more quickly than any male she'd ever enjoyed oral love with, maybe especially because the male she'd lusted after all during her adolescence was watching her helpless surrender.
Half insane with the realization of her power over the others, the flame-haired model began to caress the ivory-white mounds of her friend's upthrust breasts. Despite the fact that Dale had had the largest breasts in their class at Cedarbury High, they rose up in unsagging youthful firmness from her golden torso, twin hills of beckoning feminine flesh. Impulsively, Claudia pinched hard at each large red nipple, delighting in the girl's low squeal of pleasure-pain and the way the nipples tautened at once into rock-hard buttons.
"You've got such a lovely body, honey," she whispered huskily. "And Mitch thinks so, too ... he likes your big, beautiful tits . . . he wishes he could feel how warm and soft they are."
As Claudia's saliva-wet mouth sank back down on her girl friend's eagerly upthrusting vagina, Mitch was indeed driven out of his mind with desire to touch the writhing young blonde's voluptuous body. Without realizing what he was doing, he pressed his hand against the swell of his nylon-encased penis and began unconsciously stroking up and down on the rock-hard bulge of his cock with a rapid, rhythmic motion. A few seconds later, his clean-shaven face turned a ruddy shade of red as he gazed at his lewdly pumping hand, but despite his reluctance to have his wife's two girlfriends see him masturbating he was unable to stop himself.
Shit! he rationalized dizzily. I'm better off cumming in my swimming trunks like this than I am attacking them. I haven't got anything to be ashamed of - what they're doing's a hundred times more obscene! And I'm not really doing anything to hurt Vicki. . .
The instant his eyes refocused on Claudia's deep-delving tongue, however, his dubious logic rapidly dissolved into a haze of mindless lust. The long-limbed redhead had climbed over Dale's left leg until she crouched with her own unprotected cunt hovering mere inches from the blonde girl's face, all the while keeping her own lapping tongue buried deep within the other girl's passion-soaked vagina. At first the bemused young husband didn't quite comprehend what was going on, but then suddenly he flashed on one of the Scandinavian pornographic magazines his army buddy had shown him, and he realized that the two women were going to simultaneously tongue-fuck one another.
"Jesus!" he breathed, his eyes widening in astonishment.
The man's amazed outcry echoed loudly in the open air, resounding above the sounds of lapping river water and shrill bird calls yet neither girl turned to look at him. They were too busy arranging their longing loins in a "sixty-nine" position to notice anything else, too intent on slithering their respective tongues into each other's eagerly receptive cuntal flesh to be diverted.
Mitch, too, had lost all sense of reason. He no longer bothered to worry about his moralistic wife as he kneaded his passion-pulsating cock faster and faster; in fact, he had temporarily forgotten her existence. Sexual frenzy had wiped out the hopes and dreams he'd harbored earlier this morning for reshaping his faltering marriage and months of built-up frustration were surfacing in a tidal wave of pure animal passion. I gotta fuck them! his mind screamed in maniacal fury as he struggled to his feet and tore off the restraining nylon swimming trucks. The cock-teasing bitches! I'll show 'em!
Mitch's burgeoning penis shot forth stiff and straight as a sapling tree-trunk as he stepped toward the mewling, writhing females. Once again he dropped to his knees, this time directly beside the girls, but their faces were buried in each other's desire-drenched vaginas and they appeared unaware of his presence.
Vaguely irritated at being ignored, and in a fury of need at the sight of all this pulsing pink pussy flesh, Mitch wrenched Claudia's auburn head away from her fairskinned friend's thighs. The tall model's flame-colored pussy remained embedded in Dale's greedily licking mouth as she gaped up at the naked man, and slowly the frown on her saliva-smeared face changed to a smile of lewd satisfaction. Mitch, his own face lit, saw her eyes brighten as she fixed her gaze upon his burgeoning cock. By a rather grim smile of anticipation.
Without another moment's delay, the long-frustrated young husband hunched his body forward so that his throbbing pole of aching male flesh danced against Claudia Champlin's- slightly parted red lips.
"C'mon, suck it, you cock-teasing bitch!" he cried in an uncharacteristically harsh voice. "You've played games with me long enough -now it's my goddamn turn!"
A surge of power and pride washed over the unfaithful young husband as he heard his aggressive shout echo through the peaceful river valley. This was the way a man was supposed to behave . . . and he didn't give a damn if it were right or wrong, or what the repercussions might be. He wasn't going to let two nineteen-year-old females make a fool out of him!
Claudia's scarlet lips parted slowly, and then her raspberry-pink tongue shot out to flick at the little pearl-like droplet of seminal fluid glistening in the thick cockhead's glans opening. A shiver of ecstasy danced along her nerve-endings as she tasted the pungent pre-cum, so subtly different from the female secretions she'd been savoring before Mitch interrupted her, and then she ovalled her lush lips and encircled the hotly pulsing head.
He's coming around, just like I hoped he would! she gloated as she drew the thick flesh pole another inch into her mouth. For the first time in ages he's asserting himself, acting like a real male!
Claudia liked aggressive, domineering men, as she assumed all women did; therefore one of her considerations in planning a way to save the Marstens' marriage was to change Mitch's self-image as well as educate Vicki. Of course, this also afforded the redhead herself with a more exciting experience!
Rolling her eyes upward, she stared at the thick length of purple-veined cock slipping into her mouth. Despite her wide experience with oral sex, she felt a quiver of trepidation as she assessed the enormous size of the man's penis. It was truly gigantic . . . surely it would tear her mouth apart!
"Suck me!" groaned the frenzied man impatiently. "C'mon, put it all the way in that cunt-licking mouth of yours! Now!"
Lustful anticipation, intensified by Mitch's rough tone and her twinges of fear, seared through Claudia's bloodstream. For the moment, she'd almost forgotten the blonde who lay beneath her, but then a maddening nibble along her tumescent cuntal lips reminded her that not only was she about to suck the largest penis she could ever remember seeing, she was also being tongue-fucked by the woman below!
"Yes, Dale, honey!" she mewled around the rubbery bluntness of Mitch's cock-head which was crushed against her lips. "That's it! Kiss my pussy while I eat this big, beautiful prick!"
Suddenly both girls gasped aloud as they felt talon-like fingers abruptly tearing their bodies apart. Claudia's mouth hung open in shocked deprivation as the heated male thickness was wrenched from her greedy lips and Dale looked equally disoriented as her friends palpitating pussy disappeared. What in God's name was Mitch up to now?
A loud growl from the lust-crazed husband provided the answer. "I wanna suck Dale while I cum in your mouth!" he demanded, delighting in his arrogant masculinity. "Kneel down with your pussy over my face, Blondie! You can watch your girlfriend suck me off while I show that hungry little cunt of yours a trick or two!"
Dale's blue eyes widened in excitement as she saw the unfaithful husband throw his hard-muscled athlete's body flat on his back on the sandy riverbank. Her cock-hungry red-haired friend bent down without batting an eyelash, and once again took the bulb-shaped head of his lust-swollen penis in her mouth. Her tongue teased round and round the thickened foreskin until he groaned under his breath.
"Come on, Dale!" Claudia's words were almost inaudible as she continued to tease at Mitch's iron-hard erection. "Do as he says!"
Feeling rather awkward but wanting desperately to be part of the lewd triangle, the nineteen year-old blonde rolled toward Mitch and then knelt above his head, facing Claudia so that her firm white thighs were pressing on either side of his ears and her hands were tangled in the fair hairs on his chest to keep her balance. She and Claudia exchanged a look of mutual ecstasy, and then with one hand she wantonly pulled her glistening pink pussy lips apart just above Mitch's appreciative eyes.
"Uuurrgghhhh," he moaned, immediately burying his mouth in the succulent folds of coral cuntal flesh.
Since he'd remained faithful to his steady girlfriend all through high school, and until today had never cheated on her after their marriage, Mitch had only enjoyed oral sex a few times in his life. These occasions, which all took place at the rather cheerless whorehouses he'd visited now and then while in the army, had provided physical release but not much real erotic excitement. Now, with Dale and Claudia, his wildest dreams were coming true in a way he would never have believed possible.
"Goddamn!" he groaned, his speech garbled as he relished the mysterious aroma and taste of the young blonde's pink-rimmed vaginal mouth. "Too fucking much!"
For a brief instant he wrenched his face from the churning cauldron of Dale's pussy to stare in lurid fascination at Claudia's photogenic face twisting into a contorted mask of perversity as she slaved over his rock-hard thickness. She'd taken fully half of his lust-bloated cock inside her mouth now, and the sight of her lips straining around his rigid member like a red rubber band increased the delirious swirling sensations afforded by her skillfully circling tongue and pressuring lips. As she strove to take still more of his upthrusting flesh weapon into her bulging cheeks, he noticed drops of perspiration forming on her satin-smooth forehead and little muscles working frantically in her swan-like throat. If only Vicki treated me like this, Mitch's mind cried in momentary remorse as Claudia began pulling her mouth away from his fire-filled penis with a slow, excruciating suction. A guy needs action like this to make life worth living, but I really hate to have to go behind her back for satisfaction.
Rolling his eyes upward, the adulterous husband stared in fascination at Dale Varden's enthusiastic face through the cleavage between her dancing white breasts, then refocused on the sweet-tasting cunt just before his eyes. He ran his tongue over the succulent pink flesh of her clasping vaginal slit, then abruptly withdrew to titillate the bright berry of her desire-tautened clitoris. From .the expression on her passion-flushed face, he couldn't tell whether he was exciting her or torturing her, but then he felt her undulating above him, forcing his lips and tongue exactly where they would stimulate her most.
As he continued to suction her defenseless little pussy mouth, Mitch slid his hungry tongue deep into her crazily clutching channel, then quickly withdrew to swirl once more over her fluted pink cuntal lips before thrusting in again deeper than ever. Dale's cream-white thighs began quivering helplessly on either side of his head, as though she'd lost all control over her reactions, and a guttural crooning hum droned from her half-open lips. Every inch of flesh in her butter-smooth vaginal sheath molded against his invading tongue, giving Mitch the impression she was trying to clasp his tongue and pull it all the way down to her womb, and he was astounded to find that a woman could have so much control over her genital muscles.
"Oohhh . . . aaaahhhh . . . ooohhhhhh Dale's breathless chant grew shriller, more intense, as the man's tongue delved ever deeper into her climax-craving pussy. "Ooohhhh . . . yeessssss .. . oohhhhhh ..."
The petite blonde's erotic whimpers mingled with Mitch's incoherent grunts and wetly sluicing sounds Claudia made as she madly tried to draw the married man's iron-hard stiffness all the way down her throat without gagging. In combination, their three lust-hoarsened love-cries blended into a weird chorus which drowned out the normal mid-morning sounds of a forest and frightened away all fish in the vicinity.
As far as Mitch Marsten was concerned, however, he'd have willingly relinquished the chance to catch fish for the rest of his lifetime in exchange for the sexual revelation the two young women were giving him. He'd always been ahead of them in school by two years, and consequently had thought of them first as troublesome neighborhood pests who cried when he threw earth-worms or rotten apples at them, then in high school as Vicki's rather silly, boy-crazy friends. Only since coming back from the army last spring, and especially since working for Vince Varden in his TV repair shop, had he noticed the petite blonde had become a much more sophisticated woman than his own wife. As for Claudia Champlin, he'd scarcely thought of her at all until this weekend, certainly not in the sense of being able to suck a man's cock in a way that drove him out of his mind with ecstasy - and while her mouth was still wet with another woman's cuntal juices!
Christ, I love Vicki - of course I do, he thought distractedly. But why the hell didn't she learn to treat a man like her girlfriends can? It doesn't make any sense!
Suddenly Dale, overcome by the wanton perversity of their oral triangle, threw her body down upon Mitch's broad chest. All rational thought vanished at once from the young man's mind as he felt her melon-shaped breasts pressing warm and pliant against his bare chest, and then he stiffened and jerked in shocked delight as he realized that there were now two female tongues swirling around his hugely swollen member.
"Aaauuugghhhhh!" he groaned in rapture, digging his own tongue deeper into the squirming moistness of Dale's vagina, which still pressed tightly against his mouth.
Vince Varden had told him that Dale had done this at a party in LA, but Mitch had been certain his boss was a bit drunk and exaggerating when he'd claimed that his wife had sucked him off together with another girl. Well, now he knew it was true, and he also knew it was one of the most fantastic sensations he's ever felt in his life! The dual stimulation of his lust-throbbing cock, plus the marshmallow softness of Dale's dancing breasts and the sweet pungent odor wafting from her loins made his blood-engorged testicles churn with impatient sperm.
"You suck his cock," he heard Claudia suggest in a feline purr. "And I'll suck his nice soft balls."
"Mmmmmmmmm," Dale replied.
The crouching blonde's mouth slid willingly over his fire-filled member - just as his own mouth was hungrily devouring her desire-drenched cuntal slit - and then great swirls of heat began building deep inside him as the redhead's skillful mouth started nibbling at his ultra-sensitive testicles.
The three intertwined figures bucked and slaved over one another on the riverbank as overpowering currents of depraved sensual electricity turned their respective bodies into an insanely writhing mass of white-hot flesh. Each could sense their own climax building inside their pleasure-tortured loins, and they strove for this end as though possessed by demons. As the obscene tempo of their out-of-control passion increased, all three felt themselves spinning helplessly in a boiling whirlpool of sheer naked lust.
The girl's eyes met as their heads bobbed in greedy feast over their friend's husband's proudly swollen penis, and they raised their saliva-slickened faces toward each other for a tender kiss. Their plan had worked out better than their most optimistic dreams had supposed it might!
Mitch, blissfully unaware of any plot, groaned in rapture as the two young women resumed their avid sucking. Incoherent mutterings spit from between his tension-clenched teeth as Dale swiped her tongue in a rapid staccato motion around the dilating glans of his ready-to-explode penis, and an inhuman howl burst from his chest as Claudia simultaneously teased at his blood-bloated testicles.
"Oh, Christ!" he swore, twisting his six-foot frame in an agony of arousal. "Yeah! Oh, yeah, I'm cumming! CUUUMMMIIINNNNGGGG!"
At once a searing flood of thick hot semen spurted out into Dale's madly sucking mouth and cascaded down her throat. Caught unaware, she choked and gasped as she labored insanely to swallow every last drop of his white-hot cum, but though her cheeks ballooned out grotesquely with her effort, thin rivulets nevertheless trickled down over her chin. Claudia, her eyes glinting with wanton delight, hungrily licked the bittersweet trails of live-giving seed from her girlfriend's flushed and perspiring face. At the same time, she ground her fire-filled pussy against Mitch's strong-muscled leg in desperate search for her own climax.
As the long pent-up semen rushed down from his exploding balls, spasm after spasm of ecstasy shuddered through the groaning man's entire body. His face was pressed so tightly against Dale's palpitating pussy that he could see or smell nothing save moist female cunt, and his tongue involuntarily dug frantically into her clasping vagina as his climax rocketed through his loins.
"Aaaaaggghhhhh!" Dale sobbed suddenly as her body began to stiffen.
The next instant, the petite blonde's torso arched high up over the pleasure-tortured man beneath her, her cum-sticky mouth wrenching away from his still-spurting penis as she wailed out her own joyous fulfillment. Then she collapsed back on Mitch's hairy blond chest, wailing and spasming in a mindless delirium of pleasure, and Claudia's lips replaced hers on his cum-pulsing cock.
The redhead sucked with all her might on the ejaculating thickness to drain the last driblets of pungent male fluid, savoring it like some fine vintage wine. The sheer lewdness of laving up and swallowing his sperm after another woman had already done so suddenly pushed her own straining body over the brink into the deepest chasm of pure bliss she'd ever experienced, and a warm pool of feminine fluids washed onto Mitch's leg as she ground her vagina faster and faster against him.
"Cccuuummmmmming!" Claudia's cry was shrill, inhumanly eerie as it echoed through the river valley. "I'm cccuuuummmmmiinnnggggg!"
For what seemed an eternity the three orgasming bodies shuddered and thrashed in an ecstasy of unutterable bliss, mewling and moaning as they gloated in their wild pleasure. At last Dale rolled off Mitch's twitching loins and collapsed in exhaustion on the grass beside him, and Claudia dropped like a lead weight between his legs, her head still nuzzling his sperm-sticky genitals. For several minutes they all lay absolutely still, savoring the lingering traces of their powerful orgasms and listening to the sound of their labored breathing. There was no other sound in the valley save the gurgling of the river, the birds and insects having fallen silent beneath the unseasonably warm September sun.
"Mmmmmhhhhhmmmmm," Claudia murmured at last. "Wow, Mitch! That was fantastic! I feel so gooodddd ..."
"Me, too!" Dale breathed. "What a super morning!"
Mitch made no reply, for his mood of satiated contentment had begun to fade with the sound of their words. Sure, it had felt great - it had been the most erotic experience he'd ever enjoyed - but now he was plagued by guilt as he realized the enormity of the sin he had committed. If his wife ever found out he'd acted like an "abnormal pervert" with her two best friends, she'd be so hurt that it would surely be the end of their marriage. Worse, she might just go off the deep end, and he'd have to live with that burden of guilt over his shoulders for the rest of his life.
A moment's bliss. . . an erotic fantasy come true, he thought remorsefully as he pulled his body away from the two beautiful naked women. But in the long run it's not worth it, and I can't ever let it happen again.
Dale and Claudia stared at him dazedly as he struggled to his feet and made his way to the river, where he carefully washed his penis to remove all evidence of unfaithfulness. His heart was too heavy to notice their inquiring glances, for he felt sure Vicki could read his guilt in his eyes, and in any case he'd never been much good at lying.
And now I'll be living a lie, he thought somewhat bitterly as he put back on his swimming trunks. Christ Almighty! What a mess I've made of everything!
"What's your hurry, big boy?" Claudia drawled in a teasing, languid voice. "Why not take it easy for awhile?"
"There's other kinds of fun we could have," Dale's eyes sparkled as she spoke. "And there's plenty of time, Mitch."
Marsten turned to regard the two naked females with a pensive, peculiar gaze. He didn't feel angry toward them - not in the least - but he also knew it was impossible for him to share their lighthearted, carefree sexuality. Perhaps they didn't care about Vince and Gregory, but he felt a deep sense of responsibility toward his sensitive young wife.
The girls were smiling at him expectantly, their faces still flushed from exertion and glistening here and there with drying trickles of his thick white cum. Suddenly it seemed too much of an effort to try to explain how he felt to them, so Mitch merely bent over and gathered up his fishing gear.
"I'm gonna walk back," he stated briefly. "I need some time to cool off."
"Don't be silly!" Claudia objected. "It's miles back to the cabin! We've got the car."
Without answering, the tall, fair-haired man set off up the path toward the road. The last thing he wanted to do was pull up together with Dale and Claudia and let Vicki know they'd spent the morning together. Things were going to be sticky enough without that!
Chapter SEVEN
At the same moment when Claudia and Dale were making their way down the riverbank to seduce the unsuspecting man who stood fishing below them, Vicki Marsten was succumbing to temptation.
Drinking, particularly drinking alone and in the morning, had never been one of the young wife's vices, but her plaguing thoughts had plunged her into such a dark mood of despair that she decided she must do something. She'd thought it would be the best thing to stay by herself this morning, but in fact the silence of the empty cabin made her feel decidedly uneasy, and when she tried wandering around the gardens she only felt more lonely than ever.
"I should have gone swimming with the girls, I guess," she muttered to herself as she dejectedly returned to the cottage, heated up some bitter coffee, and added a liberal splash of the brandy they'd been drinking the night before. "At least then I wouldn't feel like I'm going crazy. People always say it's better to talk things out, and they must be right. Maybe my problem is that I keep too much bottled up inside me."
The pretty brunette gulped at the coffee, wrinkling her nose at the taste of the alcohol but hoping against hope that the burning liquid would raise her flagging spirits.
"Anyway, what's the use of knowing what the problem is?" she added bitterly, clenching her coffee cup in desperation. "What I need to know is what to do about my life .. . about Mitch . .. about myself..."
Suddenly she realized that she was talking aloud and immediately fell silent. Only crazy people talked to themselves, people like Dale's senile grandfather, and Vicki was not feeling quite miserable enough to place herself in such a category.
Although the brandy relaxed her, it didn't chase away the unwanted memories of last night's lurid events. Sighing, Vicki poured herself another cup of coffee and filled it almost to the brim with cognac, and though the second drink tasted even worse than the first, she drank it down in the same spirit one swallows medicine. Her troubled eyes roved around the kitchen in search of something to do with herself to pass the time, but the other girls had already cleaned up and made a potato salad for lunch to serve with the fish the men would catch. Perhaps there was something to read in the living room .. .
Carrying her coffee cup, Vicki wandered out into the main room and inspected the few books and magazines on the wooden shelf. Nothing really struck her fancy: last week's Newsweek, a few old National Geographies, some hunting, fishing, and boating periodicals, September's Playboy, some detective novels, and a book called, Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex. This last paperback looked interesting, but the innocent young wife was afraid someone would come in and find her reading it. She glanced over her shoulder, decided that it would be safe to just leaf through it, and was reaching to pull it down from the shelf when there was a scraping of tires on the gravel driveway.
Hastily replacing Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Sex and grabbing Newsweek, she plonked down on the couch. It was Gregory's big car, she ascertained by craning her neck, but why were the men back from fishing so early?
When Vince and Gregory walked into the room without her husband, Vicki's first reaction was relief. Then, as she remembered the obscene, animalistic way these two men had acted last night in bed, she blushed in spite of herself and began to feel uncomfortable.
"Hi," she tried to keep her voice casual. "Wh-where's Mitch?"
"Oh, he's a real fishing nut," Vince laughed loudly. "But me and Gregory wanted to go see someone he knows about this nightclub idea of mine."
"Nightclub..."
"Yeah, remember when I told you about it that night we went out to dinner. Like my brother's. Big money!"
"Oh, yes ... of course," Vicki murmured.
Would it be a place like those terrible pictures he'd bought back from Los Angeles? A place where girls in lewd costumes served drinks, a place with topless dancers? Where they showed dirty movies?
Gregory picked up her coffee cup and tasted it, and Vicki blushed more furiously than ever as he grinned "Drinking at this time of the morning! That's a pretty damn good idea, if I do say so. How 'bout it, Vince?"
"Great! But something long and cold."
Vicki didn't want another drink; she was already regretting the brandy, for it seemed to make her more nervous than ever, at least since the men had entered the room. It made her uneasy to not be in good control of what she said and did around them, and to be uncertain whether she was just imagining that strange predatory look in their eyes. Yet when Gregory placed a tall whiskey sour in front of her, she didn't want to seem rude by refusing.
I'll sip it very slowly, she told herself. And then I'll make up some excuse to get away from them.
"Where're the other gals?" Vince asked, and Vicki stole a look at him under her long lashes to ascertain in his face reflected the strange tone in his voice. It was nothing she could put her finger on, but instinct told her that something was going on.
"They went swimming." Vicki glanced from one man to the other as they seated themselves on either side of her on the leather couch, in her nervousness taking a large gulp of the drink she'd neither wanted nor needed.
"Swimming, eh?" Gregory Payne's handsome face peered down at the young brunette, and she flushed as she recalled the indecent way he'd held her when they'd danced together last night. She hoped he wasn't remembering the same thing, but there were lewd glimmers in his piercing gray eyes which told her that he was. "I wouldn't have thought they'd have been up before noon, after the way they performed last night!"
Vince guffawed loudly and a crude smile spread over his rugged features. "I'll say!" he agreed as he inched closer to Vicki and jabbed her in the ribs. "Did we keep you up last night with out racket?"
Oh God, they know I watched them! the guilt-tormented wife's mind wailed. She wished that she could vanish from the face of the earth and never again have to deal with the Varden's, or Claudia and her dreadful lover, or even her husband, Mitch. Suddenly the burden of her problems was too much for the nineteen year old newly wed.
Draining her glass, she set it shakily on the coffee table and stared fixedly at it to avoid the eyes of the men on either side of her. If they looked into her own eyes, they might guess that their talk about last night's sexual debauchery was reviving the strange, unwanted fluttering sensation deep inside her belly and up between her long, bare legs.
The men exchanged a conspiratorial wink over Vicki's slumped dark head, and then Gregory rose to pour fresh whiskey sours.
"Yeah, you look sorta bushed, Vicki," he remarked as he handed her the drink and sat back down so close that their naked thighs were touching. "I guess we were making a lot of noise. You should have come on over!"
The timid wife's pretty face was beet-red, and her voice shook weakly as she replied, "N-no, I slept fine."
Maybe I can pretend to be sick, say I have to go lie down, her brain whirled. I've got to get away from them before I give myself away! And why in God's name are they sitting so close to me like this?
Pressing her thighs together to quell the forbidden tingling had only intensified the indecent feelings inside her vagina, and to the embarrassed wife's dismay the pressure of Gregory's muscular leg was contributing to her unbidden excitement. The men wore only swimming trunks, and their near-naked, perspiration glistening loins gave off a distinct masculine odor which disturbed Vicki still more. Just to have something to do with her hands and something to look at, she sipped at her fresh drink.
Suddenly a wave of dizziness swept through her, causing her hand to shake as she set the glass back down on the table. She was drunk!
The realization hit her in the pit of her stomach, and a terrible, unwanted thought flashed through her brain: I'm not responsible for anything that happens now - I'm not in control of myself "Well, well," Gregory drawled in her ear, startling her so badly that she turned to stare at him. His steel-grey eyes still had that strange, meaningful look she'd noticed at first, and she hastily dropped her eyes back down to her lap. "So we're all alone here ... just the three of us. Cozy, huh?"
"You bet!" Vince chortled. "You bet your life it's cozy!"
In Vicki's intoxicated mind, the leering males flanking her on either side changed into huge black birds of prey who menaced her with hooked talons and knife-sharp beaks. She was some small, helpless animal trapped between them, unable to escape and vulnerable to their every horrible desire.
The hallucination faded in the uneasy silence that followed the men's words, and as Vicki's vision refocused she found that she was staring directly at Gregory Payne's over-tight swimming trunks. For a shocked second her gaze remained riveted to the thick bulge protruding from the thin nylon fabric, and though of course she had seen his penis last night, she still was astonished at its huge girth. How had poor Claudia ever taken that tree-trunk size cock up inside her without being injured in some shameful way?
Tearing her glance away, she realized to her chagrin that the advertising executive's eyes were regarding her in a knowing way. He'd seen her staring at his penis! Vicki blushed again, but despite her embarrassment the strange excitement inside her had grown to a surging current which threatened to throw her into a state of depravity like that of last night.
Calm down! Get hold of yourself! Vicki cautioned herself. Think about something else . . . change the subject to something neutral.
"How ... how was the fishing?" she asked in a brittle, squeaky voice which sounded artificial even in her own ears. "Catch much? Maybe I could start getting it ready for lunch so it'll be ... "
"Sit down and relax, honey," Gregory patted her knee, sending prickles of sensation chasing along the nervous wife's spine. "It's too early to think about lunch, and besides, Mitch is bringing all the fish 'cause we left them in the cooler."
To Vicki's acute discomfort, the strange man's hand remained on her leg. She wished with all her heart that she'd worn slacks today instead of this thigh-high denim mini-skirt, but it was too late to do anything about it now. What she had to worry about was somehow getting away from these men before something dreadful happened, before they realized how her traitorous body was reacting to their presence. It was obvious that both Vince and Gregory had been drinking all morning - she could smell the beer on their breaths when they first came in -and that ominous bulge in Greg's trunks could only mean one thing. After the scandalous way she'd danced with him last night, he couldn't be blamed for thinking she was a slut who'd go to bed with anyone, and after what she'd watched them do last night, she didn't think that the presence of Vince would stop him.
Although she was acutely aware of the danger of her situation, Vicki didn't move. I'll just finish my drink and think of some logical excuse to run off, she rationalized. After all, we're Greg's guests here, and Vince is my husband's boss. I don't want to act rude.
Without letting herself think what she was doing, the intoxicated brunette took advantage of leaning toward the table for her glass to glance at Vince's swimming trunks. As she'd feared, they were tented out in the same way as Greg's, the blue-striped fabric stretched out of shape by the huge thickness pushing against it. What was even more shocking - and more fascinating - was that the straining leg band of the garment had lifted along the inner thigh to reveal a glimpse of the man's lust-engorged testicles! I wonder what they feel like? she wondered, realizing that she'd never really looked at her husband's penis in detail and had never touched the sparsely-haired sac of his balls. Mitch's long cock-shaft had always filled her with fear and repugnance, and she was astonished to find that her reaction to these strange mens' genitals was one of lascivious curiosity.
Suddenly she pulled her eyes away and took a guilty gulp of her whiskey sour. How long had she been staring in that shameful way? What in God's name was wrong with her these past two days, anyway?
Out of the corner of her alcohol-glazed blue eyes, she hurriedly checked to brazen action had been detected and found that both men were leering down inside her loose-fitting peasant blouse. The drawstrings had somehow come half undone, and Vicki realized with horror that Vince and Gregory had an unobstructed view of her breasts in their transparent white nylon brassiere.
Trying not to panic, Mitch's wife started to tie the drawstring on her blouse more securely. She didn't raise her eyes to the two males, but she was vividly aware of their pressing bodies and the accelerated tempo of their breathing. It was no real surprise when Vince's rough fingers tore her hand away from the neckline of her shirt .. . deep inside, she'd known all along that something like this was bound to happen.
"Don't bother with that," Varden commanded curtly. "We like looking at your tits, don't we, Greg!?"
"We sure do!" Payne reached into the neck of her blouse to grab her right breast, and tweaked it so hard that the trembling wife gasped aloud.
"Please!" she pleaded. "Don't do that!"
Her voice carried little conviction; even Vicki could hear how weak and unsure it sounded, and the men paid absolutely no attention to it. While she sat there frozen, Greg's broad palm massaged first one breast, then the other, pinching the little nipples till they grew hard as diamond chips and sent arrows of forbidden arousal shooting out to every nerve-ending in her alcohol-sensitized flesh. Though she knew it was terribly wicked of her, Vicki could not fight the knowledge that his massaging hands felt wonderful. A thousand needles of pleasure-pain pricked at her nipples, flaming desire inside her vagina into full force, and though the innocent newlywed feebly tried to reach toward her assaulted breasts and push the hand away, she was actually loathe for the fearfully thrilling feeling to end.
"Why not?" Payne leered. He was kneading both of the brunette's straining breasts now, and somehow he'd managed to work his hands underneath her loose blouse so that her gauzeous white brassiere was her only protection against his marauding fingers. "You like it, don't you? Just like you liked the way we danced last night!"
Vince laughed loudly, the vulgar note in his voice increasing Vicki's acute shame. She was vaguely aware that he was swaggering over to the bar and refilling their three glasses, at the same time switching on the stereo which stood nearby.
"C'mon, you guys!" her friend's husband called out. "Dance some more! Put on a show!"
"No!" Vicki wailed as Greg Payne's strong hands dragged her to her feet. "Let go of me! Stop it!"
The guilt-stricken wife's pleas were to no avail. Loud rock music half drowned out her voice, and the Kansas City advertising executive pulled her close to his virtually naked body so that her traitorously tingling vagina was crushed against the prominent bulge in his nylon swim trunks. As he slowly guided her around the room in tempo to the sensuous beat of the top-volume album, his hands continued their tantalizing pinching and kneading of her fire-filled breasts.
"No ... no ... no ... " she whimpered over and over in a shrill, breathless voice, but Payne paid no attention to her.
The realization that she was helpless to escape from his vise-like hold hit the frightened brunette like a well-aimed blow in the belly, and she shivered although it was overly warm in the sun-drenched cabin. This unscrupulous stranger was going to take advantage of her in whatever shameful way he wished; she couldn't prevent him from doing so, not only because he was physically far superior to her, but because she herself wanted him to ravish her!
Vince Varden materialized beside the dancing couple, a full drink in his hand. He held it toward Vicki's trembling, tension-whitened lips with a lewd smirk, pressing his other hand against her mini-skirted buttocks as he did so. As Vicki recoiled away from his crudely familiar touch she crushed up against the rock-hard protuberance in the other man's swimming 152 trunks and gasped in anguish.
"No Vince, please!" she begged. "I don't want any more to drink ... I don't want to dance . .. please tell him to let go of me!"
The young wife had appealed to Varden in the vague hope that her close friendship with his wife might put some sense into his head, but one good look at his lust-blazing eyes and fully erect cock told her how mistaken she'd been. I'm lost! she thought as she swallowed the whiskey he poured down her throat. And the worst of it all is that some sick part of my mind wants it to happen! Oh God! Why did I let myself get so drunk?
Gregory's suggestive grinding motions against her pelvis grew wilder as her best friend's husband commenced a vigorous massage of the whimpering wife's well-rounded buttocks. Unchecked sensations ran rampant through the intoxicated brunette's naive young body at the dual stimulation, and she felt a shameful dampness on her panty crotch band as involuntary feminine lubricating fluids seeped from her pulsating vagina. Squeezing her eyes shut, the last remaining shreds of her willpower struggled against the forbidden excitement, but the knowledgeable fingers teasing at her buttocks and breasts combined with the two rigid cock-shafts pressing against her from both sides were too much for her alcohol-crazed mind.
"Ooooohh," she moaned, and though she was horrified to hear her own voice crying out in submissive desire, she couldn't repress another cry. "Uuuummmhhh..."
This can't be happening! her deranged mind wailed. For months and months I couldn't feel anything for my own husband even though I love him more than anyone else in the world - and then for no reason at all I started feeling all these weird things for Greg yesterday. And now .. . now I'm being pawed at by two men at once, men I don't even like! Vince is crude and vulgar, and as for Gregory, I don't know him at all! And the way they treat their women - why after seeing that, I should have packed my bags and gotten out of here straight away! I just don't understand how I can be allowing such a sinful thing to happen!
Whether or not she understood her own reactions, Vicki was intoxicated with lust at being fondled so ardently by two men at once. For the first time she had fallen victim to the delirious feelings of danger mixed with ecstasy which are accomplices of all forbidden pleasure, and frightened as she was by her body's takeover of her mind, she no longer had any control over herself.
"Shit, I'd never have guessed you were built like a bomb!" Vince's rough hands had suddenly yanked the confused brunette's loose-fitting peasant blouse over her head so that she stood whimpering in her skimpy denim skirt and white brassiere in the middle of the big room. "You always ran around looking modest as a nun. Well, now I know you've got all the right qualifications so why don't you try some topless dancing. Maybe you can perform at my club when I get it set up!"
The man's raucous laugh drowned out Vicki's shocked cry of protest, and before she knew what was happening he was unsnapping her brassiere and tossing it away onto the floor. Pulling away from Gregory's embrace with every ounce of strength left in her alcohol-stimulated loins, she made a futile effort to hide the snow-white mounds of her breasts with her hands.
"No!" she gasped helplessly. "No, please! Give me back my blouse! Please!"
"Don't gimme that bullshit!" Vince's voice grated harshly in her ears. "I've been wanting to get my hands on your stuck-up little body for a hell of a long time, and I ain't gonna stop now. Besides, you wanna get fucked as bad as we wanna fuck you!"
"Nooo!" Vicki's voice rose in a shrill wail despite the lewd sensations of unwanted desire which coursed through her half-naked body at his use of the obscene word "fuck."
"My husband ..."
"What about your husband?" Gregory snorted. "He's miles away from here with his fishing pole sunk in the goddamn river. You can do whatever you want, and he'll never know unless you tell him!"
"Yeah," Vince taunted. "Come down off your high horse, baby! We saw you staring at our pricks - and now you're gonna find out how to have a whole lot of fun being real naughty." His big hand shot out and pulled her short skirt up over her panty-protected buttocks.
"Oh God, Vince!" Vicki desperately tried to stifle the whirling vortex of pleasure which was steadily building in the depths of her churning belly. "Don't touch me down there!"
"Why not, baby? You're all wet and ready for us!"
Hot tears of shame pricked at the corners of the temptation-tortured young wife's eyelids. It was true - the crotch band of her panties was damp with the shameful evidence of her arousal, and there was nothing she could say that would make her look less like a slut. Suddenly a wave of self-disgust washed over her, and she jerked away from the men, making a frantic grab at her discarded blouse.
"No!" she shrieked, her voice half-hysterical as her lifelong moral values put up a last stand against her long-frustrated body's sensual needs. "You can't talk to me like that! You can't touch me - it's RAPE!"
"I'll talk to you any way I damn well please!" Vince bellowed as he lunged toward her and pushed her back against Gregory.
The breath was almost knocked from Vicki's lungs by the vicious shove, and she collapsed limply against the executive's chest as her futilely retrieved blouse slipped from her fingers. Once again, her burning breasts were smashed against his hard-muscled naked torso, and his stone-hard weapon was throbbing against the flat plane of her pliant belly, and Vince had moved in behind her and inserted his hand up between her helplessly trembling thighs.
His lewdly positioned hand played for a few teasing seconds on the sensitive flesh of Vicki's upper legs then insinuated itself under the elastic legband of her bikini panties. Despite the humiliated young woman's frantic wriggles and soft sobs of protest, it slithered forward from her puckering anal opening till it reached the shameful moistness of her desire-drenched pussy lips.
"Oooooh!" she yelped in unwanted delight as Vince's middle finger suddenly tweaked at the nerve-filled bud of her clitoris. "Aaaahhh!"
The tiny button immediately rose in a palpitating erection and the inexperienced brunette felt her willpower break down completely as the smoldering tension inside her burst into wild, white-hot flames. It no longer mattered that the man whose finger was stroking and teasing up inside her vagina had, less than six months ago, sat in the Cedarburg Methodist Church and watched her stand at the altar and pledge herself to another man. Nor did she care that the male whose hands were roughly stimulating her nipples into miniature erection was a total stranger who only wanted to use her body for his own obscene pleasure. The only thing that counted was the aching void in her belly which could only be filled by a pulsating length of thickly heated cock-flesh.
Suddenly a string of urgent moans broke from the unfaithful wife's lips, surprising her as much as the two men who caressed her traitorous body. "Yyyeeesss . . . oooohhh . . . yyyeesss ... do it... do whatever you want to me ... yesss ... I want you to ... ooohhh ..."
As if her wanton whisper had been a signal, the two males began tugging off the brunette's remaining clothing. She stood speechless, unable to react as shameful shivers of desire flickered along her impatient body. And even when Vince tore off her white nylon panties so roughly that the fragile fabric was ripped in half, she made no protest.
Varden let out a low wolf whistle as the two men stepped back and stared at their friend's wife as though she'd been a Playboy centerfold.
"What a body!" he .leered. His eyes roved hungrily up from the curvaceous magnificence of her firmly rounded white buttocks, past the trim indentation of her waist, over her sun-bronzed torso and the contrasting snow-white mounds of her proud breasts. "Out of this world! A real sex-pot!"
"Built for loving ..." Gregory Payne agreed. "Look at that tight little ass!"
Although Vicki knew she ought to feel humiliated by the way they were discussing her body like a slave's on display in the market place, she couldn't repress a thrill of pride at their admiration. She'd always known she had a good figure - less buxom than Vince's wife, more softly rounded than Claudia's - but no one had ever told her so in such an extravagant passionate way. Mitch often told her she looked cute, pretty, beautiful... but of course she'd never stood naked before her husband like this, and he knew she didn't like him to use words like "sex-pot" and "ass."
"Get down," Vince's harsh voice interrupted the hopelessly aroused wife's distracted thoughts. "Get down on the floor! On your back!"
Vicki stared at him in bewilderment, a tremor of fear blending with her wild desire as she saw lecherous vengeance spread over his broad face. There was something in his expression which gave her the uncomfortable feeling of being nothing more than part of the plunder from some war, and the way he was ordering her around was also most unnerving.
When the bewildered naked brunette didn't comply right away, the lust-enraged Varden grabbed her pliant breasts as though they were motorcycle handles and tugged her to her knees.
"Listen you silly bitch," he muttered into her wide-eyed face. "We're gonna fuck you now, and it's gonna be a lot of fun for all of us - as long as you do just like we tell you!"
The forbidden word echoed through Vicki's passion-clouded brain to the tempo of her thudding heart, and a final wave of shame seared through her bloodstream. How despicably perverted she must look kneeling naked on the soft rug in front of them, her breasts swollen with her forbidden desire and her sparse brown pussy hairs damp from the pre-cum fluids which seeped from her burning vagina. Even her hair, which normally fell in a smooth, school-girlish page boy over her shoulders, was tousled like some cheap tramp's.
Oddly enough, the thought of her shocking appearance stimulated the aroused nineteen-year old instead of inciting her to fight her way out of this perverted dual seduction. Prurient quivers of longing teased along her sensitized nerve-endings, and all thoughts of her husband vanished as she felt herself hurtling down into a dark abyss of mindless animal passion.
"Lie down!" Vince growled again.
This time Vicki sank obediently to the floor, for something about her girl friend's husband frightened her. There was a bestial brutality in his face, and instinct told her it was wiser not to cross him. Besides, she could not deny the strange masochistic thrill that was stealing through her blood ... the unwanted longing to be used, taken forcefully, totally humiliated by these two men.
Vince stared hungrily down at the subserviently prone woman, his eyes lingering on the thinly curling tendrils of chestnut brown hair fringing a tantalizing glimpse of glistening pink cuntal flesh. Licking his lips, he began pulling off his straining blue-striped swimming trunks.
"I'd sure enjoy eating that sweet little pussy of yours," he leered at her. "But this big cock of mine's been waitin' so long to get inside your cock-teasing cunt that I can't wait any longer. Another time, baby, and I'll have you screaming for more of it while I tongue-fuck you!"
Vicki moaned helplessly, partly in reaction to his lewd words, partly in terror of the giant fleshy cudgel which shot from his dark-haired loins as his trunks dropped to the floor. Her eyes roved dizzily over her girl friend's husband's athletic body, taking in his burly, muscular build and smooth, golden tanned flesh, but always her gaze was drawn like a magnet back toward the impossibly thick penis pointed so menacingly at her helpless body.
A triumphant grin spread over the television repairman's rugged face as a feeling of pure power surged through his loins. Always before, he's quite correctly suspected that Vicki looked down on him as being vulgar and crude, even though he was her best friend's husband and her own husband's boss. Now he'd forced her into a position where she was totally at his mercy and could not possibly challenge his superiority over her, and soon she'd be begging for his rock-hard cock, just the way he'd always dreamed of seeing her!
Tauntingly, he stroked the thick, uncircumcised foreskin back and forth over his blunt, lust-swollen cock-head, causing his dangling balls to sway between his strong-muscled legs. Vicki's eyes widened with alarm, and he snickered in gleeful delight.
"Too big for you, huh?" he smirked. "Bigger than Mitch's, huh? Well, don't worry - we'll get it up in that tight little hole of yours somehow!"
Dropping to his knees, he turned to the other man who was struggling out of his swimming trunks.
"Whatdya think we oughtta do with this pretty little piece of ass?" he smirked.
It was an unnecessary question, the two men having already discussed the matter in detail on the ride back to the cabin, but Vince could tell that it shocked and excited the innocent brunette to hear them talking about her this way. Greg understood and smoothly played his part.
"I kind of fancy getting into that cute little ass of hers," he drawled, watching in disbelief and then panic cloud the young woman's lovely face and deriving a sadistic satisfaction from her terror. "Are you a virgin back there, sweetheart?"
He couldn't mean such a horrible thing! It was sick, far too perverted for her to allow, no matter how eager she was for this forbidden lovemaking. Vicki struggled to a sitting position, realizing she'd let herself in for a lot more than she was prepared to handle, but before she could make the planned dash for her bedroom Vince was upon her.
"Where the hell d'you think you're going?" he growled as his heavy-muscled body pinioned her back down on the soft carpet. "Didn't you hear me tell you to do what we say? You wanted to get fucked, and now you're gonna find out what it's like to fuck real men!"
The passion-crazed man's hands were rougher than he realized as he wrenched the whimpering brunette's resilient white thighs apart with his thumbs and then shoved his knees between them to hold them in position. He crouched above her helplessly pinned figure with a lascivious grin on his sweat-beaded face, pressing his iron-hard penis against her squirming belly as one hand played with her sensitive breasts and the other shot abruptly toward the moist pink warmth of her wide-splayed vagina.
"OOooooh nooo . . . ooohhh Goddd! OOoooohhh!" Vicki whimpered. Her body was tense, fists clenched to her sides, eyes firmly closed to shut the humiliating reality of her situation.
Suddenly her body was shaken by an uncontrolled quiver of pleasure as she felt Vince's hand contact her already lewdly aroused pussy, and her faint protests faded into mewls of unwanted pleasure. Opening her eyes, she gazed once again at the enormous angry-red flesh cudgel poking against her desire-churning belly. Much as she feared it would hurt her, she desperately yearned for him to plunge it up inside her aching pussy so that she could know the total degradation of groveling beneath him while another man watched. In her excitement, Payne's threat was conveniently forgotten.
Vince caught her rapt gaze at his blood-engorged cock-shaft and smiled smugly, but there was a glimmer of surprise mingling with the lecherous hunger in his eyes. From the way his wife and Claudia Champlin had talked, he'd expected their quiet chestnut-haired girl friend to put up a hell of a fight, but in fact she was squirming her ass-cheeks in lewd undulations as he finger-fucked her and eyeing his blood-heavy member as though it were the most wonderful thing she'd ever seen. Frigid? -bullshit! His young employee's pretty wife might act like a stuck-up cold fish, but with a man like himself who knew how to turn a woman on, she was a real hot little bitch!
By now Vince's ego was as swollen as his huge cock, and he decided to enhance his triumph by making his vulnerable victim plead for her obscene defilement.
"Do you want me to fuck you now?" he asked slowly, tauntingly. "Do you wanna see what a nice thick cock like mine feels like pumping up inside you?" As he spoke, he withdrew his teasing finger from Vicki's desire-dampened cuntal mouth, relishing her low cry of disappointment as it slipped from her greedy pussy with a lewd wet pop. "Do you want my cock?" he demanded again, more insistently this time. "C'mon, tell me you want it!"
The innocent young wife cringed, and her face faded to the color of ashes. Then as he repeated this question in a curt tone, two bright pink spots appeared on her cheeks and she blurted out her shameless plea.
"Yesss Vince, I want you to do it... I want your cock inside me ... I need it so bad!"
Without a moment's delay, the panting television repairman's lust-bloated cock-head was pressed up against her unprotected vaginal lips. Vicki's belly quaked in aching anticipation as the bulbous rubbery-smooth head parted the petals of her well-lubricated pussy mouth, and she rocked her hips upward to meet with the heavy cock-shaft which could fill the hungry void between her widespread legs. Teasingly, Vince drew back, laughing as the unfaithful wife groaned in frustration.
"Jesus, you're one hot little thing, aren't you!" he exclaimed. "How'd your husband take care of you all alone, huh?"
A tremor of guilt ran through Vicki's passion-fired figure as she thought of her husband. It wasn't likely that he considered himself as lucky as his boss seemed to think he must be, but that was her fault, wasn't it? She had never been able to respond even half as passionately to him as she was now with strangers, and if he should walk in right now he probably wouldn't even recognize. If he should walk in right now... The chilling phrase echoed through her brain with a hollow finality. I'm risking the marriage that means more to me than anything else in the world, she thought bleakly, and then another voice chimed in from the back of her brain. And I don't care! I don't care!
"Now I'm gonna fuck you like you've never been fucked before!" Vince's hiss interrupted his employer's wife's reverie. "And I wanna see you move that hot ass of yours!"
Whimpers of yearning torment broke from the spread-eagled brunette's lips as the thick-set man lowered his powerful hips and parted her swollen vaginal lips with his blunt penile head. The searing contact sent shivers of pure pleasure raging through her bloodstream, and to her shock she found her hand slipping down between their bodies to grasp his heated thickness and urge it still deeper inside her cock-starved cuntal channel. God! It was enormous! It was going to hurt terribly, but her reckless need was so strong that it overcame her trepidation.
With a low growl, Vince flicked his hips toward the whimpering woman and dropped down on top of her, crushing her full breasts flat beneath his dark-haired chest as his lust-swollen hardness shot like a rocket far up into the softness of her hungrily clasping cuntal channel. Deeper and deeper it plunged until at last his sperm-heavy testicles slammed up against the upraised half-moons of her ass-cheeks and their pelvic bones crashed together with a shuddering jolt.
"Ahhh, ahhh!" Vicki moaned out loud, feeling him sliding into her.
Much to her amazement she realized that the enormous penis had entered her with a minimum of pain. It filled every centimeter of her tight vaginal passage, and she could feel each wrinkle and vein on the huge flesh cudgel imprinted against her palpitating cuntal walls. Then as he suddenly flexed the lust-heated thickness which was embedded all the way to her cervix, she realized she'd counted her blessings too soon.
"Aaagghh! Nooo! You're hurting meee!" she wailed in agony. "Aaaagghh! Please stop!"
Vince only grinned in cruel triumph, his eyes shooting red sparks like some half-insane beast and frightening the inexperienced nineteen year old more than ever. The latent streak of sadism in his character had been aroused by her plaintive cries, and he was eager to tame this formerly haughty young girl with his mammoth male weapon.
He's enjoying hurting me, Vicki's tortured mind screamed. Just like that perverted movie I read about in the Sunday supplement about that awful French Marquis de ... something. He's going to kill me and love every minute of it - or worse, he'll injure me in some terrible way, and how will I ever explain it to my husband? Oh how in God's name could a nice girl like Dale have married a monster like Vince?
"No please!" she whined again, her tone hopeless as she despaired of raising any particle of pity in the strong-muscled man looming above her. "You're too big! Please stop!"
"Too big for ya?" Vince taunted, his eyes blazing with maniacal fire. "Well, don't worry - you'll get used to it real quick!"
"NOOO!" Really panicking now, the whimpering brunette attempted to pull her cock-impaled vagina away from the torturing flesh pole then fell limp as this only added to the burning agony in her helplessly trapped loins. "Plleeaasssee!" she whimpered. "Please don't, Vince! Pleeeezzzee!"
The burly television repairman seemed angered by her new resistance. His broad face darkened into a mask of rage as he grabbed her flailing legs behind the knees and cruelly shoved them back against her breasts then pinned her ankles behind her neck with talon-like fingers. I'm going to be black and blue all over, Vicki wailed in silent anguish. And how will I ever explain that to Mitch?
Suddenly the huge flesh cudgel wrenched almost all the way out of her quivering vaginal cavity, and Vicki's body relaxed in relief that he had finally taken pity on her helpless plight. Her hopes were dashed an instant later as with a bestial growl, he rammed forward with every ounce of strength in his hips and thighs to sink his lust-bloated cock back up inside her helpless cunt. It sliced into her viciously, driving the smooth flesh of her cuntal walls in shivering ripples before it until at last she felt his cum-swollen balls slap against the puckering orifice of her anus.
"Ahhh ... ahhh ..." The impaled young wife's sobbing protest echoed piercingly throughout the high ceilinged cabin. She felt as though her vagina had been shredded to a million fragments of raw, nerve-filled flesh as though she would never be able to walk again.
But it's what I deserve, I suppose. The thought rang clearly through Vicki's mind, overriding her pain. I acted like a common whore, and now I'm being punished for it. Vince is treating me like the cheap slut I really am.
Oddly enough, the pain almost at once began to diminish. Vicki's vagina, well-lubricated at it was to start with, had adjusted itself to the massive intrusion, and the red-hot arrows of agony faded to teasing throbs of masochistic pleasure-pain. Although the blunt balled fist of his cock-head was jammed directly up against her spongy extra-sensitive cervix and she could still feel every heated inch of his pulsing shaft against her filled cuntal walls, the tickling sensation of his sparsely-haired testicles swinging against her anal opening and the pungent erotic scent of male and female sexual secretions were equally strong positive stimuli. Gradually, desire flooded back into her vagina, and its muscles began contracting around the huge flesh pole, timidly at first, then more urgently. It was as if the pain had been magically transformed into an insignificant portion of the much more important satisfaction her body had craved so avidly ever since yesterday evening.
Blinking away the tears that still clung to her long eyelashes, the rearoused brunette became aware of Gregory Payne whose existence she'd totally forgotten during her torturous ordeal. He was as naked as she and Vince, and his hand was frantically massaging a long purple-red penis which appeared from her vantage point to be every bit as gigantic as the male flesh rod which was pounding so relentlessly into her wide-stretched cuntal passage. As muscles she'd never dreamed she possessed began to clasp around her best girl friend's husband's heated member as it surged in and out, she found herself fantasizing about how it would be to have two vaginas so that both men could ravish her simultaneously.
"Jesus Christ!" Payne groaned. Gone were the calm, cool, confident tones of the advertising executive with two private phone lines and an elegant secretary smiling at him from behind a new model IBM - now his voice rasped with the same coarse bestiality as Vince Varden's. "I can't wait any longer, man! Turn her over and let me into that little pink asshole of hers before I explode!"
Vicki froze, suddenly remembering the threatening suggestion he'd made earlier. He couldn't really mean it! He couldn't! No one really did sick things like that, did they, except perhaps in the Kinsey survey? It was unthinkable, impossible - INHUMAN!
"Okay, okay," the laboring television repairman assented. "I guess she's hot enough now for two cocks."
The egoistic man had achieved a lurid pleasure from the knowledge that the other man was watching his huge cock - of which he was inordinately proud - subjugate this voluptuous young girl to the point where she was loving his punishing ravagement. Still it would be exciting to further humiliate her by sandwiching her between them. By the time he and Greg were finished with her, she'd be a real woman like Dale and Claudia, ready to come at their beck and call and eager to screw at any hour of the day or night.
"No ... no ... no ... " Vicki chanted weakly. "Oh please, no!"
Payne paid no attention at all to the inexperienced brunette's piteous pleas, nor did Varden. He neatly flipped her slender body over so that she was obscenely positioned astride his impaling cock, her ripely rounded breasts dancing before his bemused eyes and her shoulder-length chestnut curls flailing wildly around her panic-stricken face. Her neck strained in a desperate attempt to see what the Kansas City businessman was up to behind her, but Vince's hands grasped hold of her tousled silken curls and pulled her mouth up to his.
"Mmmffgghh," she cried in a muffled voice as his greedy tongue slithered down her throat and their saliva mingled in a passionate kiss.
Somehow, kissing in the same way she and her husband used to in their going steady days seemed almost more obscene than the animalistic fucking, and Vicki was so distracted by her childhood friend's husband's pressuring lips - as well as his steadily plunging penis - that for a few seconds she forgot the lewd-intentioned Gregory.
At this precise moment, Payne grasped hold of the unfaithful wife's ivory-white ass-cheeks and thrust them wide apart.
"Noooo!" Vicki wailed, half hysterical with her dread that he was really going to attack her in this debased manner. "Wh-What are you doing?"
The dark-haired businessman's laughter spat out like the slap of a whip. "Whatdya think, baby? I'm gonna ram my cock into your sweet little anus!"
"Oh no, no you can't," she moaned, but it was no use.
His fingers had forced her tender ass-cheeks so far apart that Vicki felt she was being pulled to pieces, and even the thrilling ecstasy in her cock-pummeled vagina could not compensate for the agony. When the impatient man's middle finger dug into the tight elastic ring of her rectal orifice she let out a high-pitched squeal of horrified anguish, but there was no escape from the two pairs of brutal male hands that held her pinned between their lust-driven bodies.
"No, no!" she wailed. "No one ever did this to me! You mustn't! Pleeezze!"
Unfortunately, this was exactly what Payne wanted to hear. After watching Vince Varden's triumphant conquering of the initially reluctant young wife, he wanted to prove his own masculinity in some spectacular way. Well, now he could! He'd be the first to enter this deliciously tight-clasping little anus!
Dragging his finger from the tiny passage with a loud obscene popping sound, he immediately positioned his fire-filled cock-head against the puckered little orifice. Without thought of the pain or injury he might be inflicting upon her, he shoved his aching hardness as far as it would go into the frantically resisting anal channel.
"Arrgghh!" she screamed, wishing she would faint.
Even the devastating agony of Vince's enormous, merciless penis ramming into her vagina had been nothing compared to this burning torture! At least he'd been attacking her in the natural human way - this was bestial, abnormal, and her shame heightened the stabbing agony she felt as he shoved his passion-heavy cockshaft ever deeper into her uselessly resisting rectal passage. Vicki's shuddering sobs once again rang out in the wood-paneled cabin living room, but neither man seemed to care as they continued to shove their lust-driven members into her twin orifices.
The pain-wracked young woman tried to twist away from the heated flesh cudgel pounding deep into her never-before-entered rectal passage, but all she succeeded in doing was driving her fire-filled vagina more forcefully down on the giant penis invading from her pussy. Tremors of ecstasy mingled confusingly with the red-hot agony in her ravished anus, and her cries grew inhuman as conflicting sensations of pleasure and pain surged through her thrashing loins.
This can't really be happening to me, her frenzied mind shrieked... must be a nightmare! Then, to the no-longer-innocent wife's intense shame, a second voice rang out from the darkest corner of her brain. But you like it... you like having two strange men's big cocks inside you ... you know you do. ..
"Nooo!" Vicki wailed in alarm, more in protest to her own traitorous body than to the males who were subjugating her to this final humiliation.
In spite of the torturous pain, it was impossible to deny the perverted twinges of unnatural excitement which had lingered in her frustrated loins ever since yesterday evening. Some despicable, hitherto unsuspected part of her soul actually wanted this ultimate degradation, yearned to be slavishly subjected to two abnormally large poles of thickly invading cock-flesh. Sick as she knew herself to be, she could not fight the urgent needs which were so much more compelling than any code of morality.
The second cock had begun stroking in and out of her already overstuffed loins, automatically adjusting itself to the tempo of the other man's steadily pistoning penis. By now both males had forgotten that the original reason for seducing the formerly shy and innocent brunette had been to teach her the joys of sex, and swapping in particular. Their only goal now was the satisfaction of their own lust-maddened loins, and if it included inflicting a little pain and thus working out the aggressions that had accumulated over the advertising copy and malfunctioning TV sets, so much the better.
"Goddamn ... goddamn . .. goddamn Gregory gasped as he pushed his aching virility deeper into the whimpering woman's butter-soft anal passage with each downstroke. "She's got the tightest asshole I ever felt! Out of this world!"
"And the sweetest pussy this side of the Mississippi!" Vince groaned in reply. Through the tissue-thin membrane dividing Vicki's two feminine orifices, he could feel Payne's rhythmically stroking rigidity, and with this added stimulation he knew that it wouldn't be long before his thick white cum was exploding deep into Vicki Varden's defenseless loins.
Despite her unwillingness to respond to such perverted carnality, Vicki was powerless to fight the resurgence of strange masochistic pleasure which rippled through her doubly-impaled body like liquid lightning. Soon her anguished whimpers had changed to mewls of depraved ecstasy, and a wanton sparkle replaced the tears in her large blue eyes.
Look how low I've sunk! she marveled. Yesterday I thought I was wicked for finger-fucking myself while I watched the others fuck and suck, and now I'm doing something just as bad and loving it!
With the acceptance of her own animalistic depravity came a furious rush of wanton sexuality. The young brunette's body began to writhe between the men's sandwiching bodies, her lithe figure jerking backward to meet the lengthy thickness ramming into her ravaged anus then wriggling forward to draw the spearing shaft of her best friend's husband's cock deeper into her cum-hungry cunt. Tendons in her neck and thighs stood out hard and taut as she relinquished herself to an abandoned state of salacious sensuality, and she began to wail out her uncontrolled arousal in a shrill, half-human keen.
"Yessss! Fuck meeee! FUCK ME!" Her voice was so loud that it carried out the open window, frightening away a flock of birds in the tall-pine in front of the cabin. "Fuck my ass! Fuck my cunt! Give me your cccuummm!"
I'm lost, utterly lost, she thought, the realization of her total degradation sinking into her innermost soul. All I car about is having hard cocks pounding into me, and I don't give a damn whose cocks they are. The old Vicki who wanted love and tenderness is dead. . . and the new Vicki's a stranger... a wicked, wanton stranger. I don't think I like her very much, but I can't help it and I don't really care.
"Fuck me!" she cried again, and since both men were as wrapped up in their own violent lust as she, they failed to notice the note of tragic despair in her scream of passion. "Fuck me hard . . . harder! Fuck me forever! FFUUUCCCKKK!"
* * *
Mitch had expected to return to Payne's vacation cottage long after the girls, hopefully after everyone had eaten lunch and was lying down for the afternoon siesta Gregory had said was his custom here. As luck would have it, however, he'd only been trudging along the dusty back road for a mile or two when an aged pickup truck with a load of hay pulled to a stop beside him and an equally old man stuck his grizzled head out the window.
"Ya wanna lift?" he inquired after pulling a corncob pipe from between, his remaining yellow teeth. "Kinda warm for walkin'..."
Not feeling in the least like making conversation, yet also not wanting to offend the kindly man, Mitch thanked the elderly farmer and hoisted his fishing gear into the battered truck. And in fact, rather to his surprise, the garrulous driver's conversation had put him in a much clearer, calmer mood by the time they'd reached the cabin.
As he walked across the wide green lawn toward the house, the old farmer's parting words rang in his brain.
"Stuck-up city folks," he'd sniffed disdainfully, revving the wheezing motor. "Got no understanding 'bout life, 'bout its natural rhythm. Had a real nice lookin' smart woman, Payne did - interested in growin' things and raisin' critters, she was, and I don't blame her a bit for runnin' off to some fool foreign country. All he's interested in is partying. Well, I don't know nothin' 'bout nothin', but it seems to me that life's mostly makin' the best of the hard times. Me and the missus, now, we've been together over fifty year, 'n we've had our hard times, but we understand each other better 'n anything, and I guess I love her more now than when she was a purty little golden-haired thing an' I could put my two hands 'round her waist. An' that's only 'cause we worked hard together, taking the knocks along with the laughs."
He paused and Mitch, thinking he'd finally talked himself out, held out his hand and smiled.
"Thanks for the lift," he said. "And I sure hope I know as much about everything as you do when I'm your age."
He started toward the apparently empty house, hoping that he would find Vicki there and deciding that if he did, he'd take her in his arms and talk to her from the deepest part of his soul as he'd never really done before.
Everything's going to be all right, he thought. Even the things I did this morning won't matter if I'm really down-to-earth honest with Vicki and make her understand how important it is to me to spend the rest of my life with her. And hell, so she's a little uptight about sex - well, she'll come around in the end. That's not the really important thing any way...
A shrill inhuman cry reverberated through the clear country air as he approached the house, but although a chill premonition of evil floated through his mind, he was too buoyed up with optimistic hopes to credit it with any significance.
Some sort of animal, he told himself. A mouse caught in a trap or a rabbit snared in a thicket.
Before pushing open the thick wooden door he paused, his heart thudding against his ribs in the unacknowledged fear that the scream had been far too loud and shrill for a small animal... too similar to the cries Dale and Claudia had been making down by the river...
Don't be ridiculous! his logical brain chided. You're imagining things because you feel guilty, that's all. He turned the handle, and then as he peered in through the half-open door, his blood turned to ice, and his hand froze on the knob.
"Aaaahhh! Fuck me hard!" A female's lust-demented voice shrieked, and there was no mistaking now that the cry was definitely a human one. Nor, despite the dimness of the cabin after the glaring sunshine outdoors, was there any question that it was his own wife who was thrashing on the floor between the naked bodies of two sweat-slickened males. "CCcccuummm ... make me cum! OOOoohh, yeeeaaahhh!"
Vicki's cries cut through her unobserved husband's heart like a keen-bladed sword, and for a brief instant he had to close his eyes and cling to the doorknob for support. When he opened them again, he saw that all three were orgasming, their loins tensing and then shuddering with wave after wave of physical ecstasy. As thin rivulets of glistening white sperm began seeping out onto his wife's spasming loins, Mitch thought she glanced toward the door and saw him standing there. Then as he looked again he saw that her big blue eyes were too glazed with her wanton passion to have seen anything.
"I'M THERE!" she groaned. "Give me your ccuummm!"
At the sound of Vicki's climactic cry, her husband shakily closed the front door and began to walk robot-like toward the entrance to his bedroom. Automatically, his face black with despair, he threw a few belongings into a suitcase and headed out across the lawn to the road. Although there were no more obscene noises echoing out from the living room, his swift departure was unobserved, and in fact he was not missed until nightfall. By that time, Mitch Marsten was three rides away, driving through another state in the cab of a large semi truck.
* * *
Three years later when Claudia Champlin finally achieved her dearest ambition and won a minor part in a Hollywood film, she paid a visit to Vince Varden's brother Art at his Los Angeles nightclub. She'd pretty much lost touch with Cedarburg, Kansas after her father's death two years ago, though she and Dale still exchanged letters at Christmas, but Art knew a lot of people in Hollywood and it seemed advantageous to renew their acquaintance. Besides, she was curious to find out what had happened to Vicki who'd gone out here to work after her husband deserted her.
"... never answered any letters while she was working for you, and then she just vanished into the blue and we didn't know where to write." The glamorous redhead stared down into her drink, an expression of guilty sadness clouding her lovely face. "Haven't you heard anything -gossip or something? I mean, people around here seem to know everything about every one else. It's almost as bad as Cedarburg!"
The nightclub owner's undressing eyes surveyed Claudia whom he'd remembered as a skinny carrot-haired tomboy and decided that he was going to start inviting her to his weekend orgies.
"Sure, I've heard some talk," he said slowly, "but not lately. She really didn't fit into my crowd ..."
"What do you mean by that?" Claudia hoped that she would be acceptable to his sophisticated friends.
"Well you know I had to fire her from her job here," he tried to explain. "I mean she was okay as a topless dancer, but she had no cool. It's one thing to have a good time - we sure have ourselves some damn good things in this part of the world - but she really went overboard. Screwing any old guy or even two or three at once right back in the dressing room . . . and then getting real upset about it, drinking till she passed out or taking sleeping pills and stuff."
"Oh God! Poor Vicki! I guess she was really upset about her husband leaving her ... and she never was very bright. Nice, real nice, but not clever ..."
"You can say that again," Art refilled the curvaceous redhead's glass. "I never saw a nice-looking gal with so much going for her mess herself up so bad. But hell, I guess that's life."
"Yes, I guess that's life," Claudia echoed in a hollow voice. Then, raising her glass to touch the handsome nightclub owner's and forcing a smile to her face, she added, "Cheers!"
