Reeve Richards awoke that morning, as he usually did, with a huge erection. The heat from the early rays of the May sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling louvered shutters in the spacious bedroom on Doheney Drive and made the room uncomfortably warm. Another smog-alert day for certain. A quick press of the button in his digital watch told him it was 6:30. He had a choice; several, actually. He could roll over and catch another forty winks ... he could hop into the shower, then dress, grab a bite and be at the office before the official "day" started, getting a chance to go through the trade rags before the phones started ringing ... or ...
He looked at the languid form of the woman sleeping next to him. She had thrown off the light bed covers in her sleep, so that she lay there with her ripe, sensuous body shielded only by a sheer, transparent nightgown. Reeve propped himself up on one elbow as he quietly turned on his side to get a better look at his young wife. Though they had been married nearly a year, he never grew tired of staring at her voluptuous body, with the firm, up-thrust breasts punctuated by two pert, rosy nipples ... the smooth, flat stomach, the symmetrically curved hips ... the sculpted thighs and calves that ended in trim ankles, and the delicious, girlish thatch of dark hair that grew on the sweet sex mound between those beautiful legs.
He idly began to lightly stroke his stiff cock while drinking in the tantalizing outlines of his wife's sleeping form. Lewd sexual fantasies began to course through his mind, which excited him more. He enjoyed that kind of sweet torture, and he allowed the fantasies to overtake him ...
He was riding on a train, one of those super fast European ones bound from Belgrade to Paris. It was 11:00 at night, and he was in his berth in the private compartment he booked for himself. He had been reading and was just about to switch off the overhead reading light when there was a soft knock at the door. He hesitated for a moment before getting up. "Who's there?" he called. But there was no answer. He got up quickly, slipped on his robe and tip-toed to the door. Very cautiously he opened it just a crack. A beautiful, mysterious woman was standing there, wearing a white mink coat that reached the floor. The scent of her exotic perfume was intoxicating. Reeve's eyes widened with surprise. "Y-yes?" he said hesitantly. The woman's full, scarlet lips slowly formed an enigmatic smile, showing perfect white teeth. She didn't answer immediately, but took a long drag from a strong cigarette held in a mother-of-pearl holder.
"Aren't you going to invite me in?" she asked seductively.
He was taken aback. "Well, it is rather late. I was just about to turn in for the night ... "
She interrupted him: "But I want to suck your cock." She cooed, licking her lips. "I want to lick it, and kiss it all over, and eat your balls. Then I want you to fuck me. I want you to stick your prick into my wet, sticky cunt and fuck me until you cream my pussy full up to the cunt hairs with your white, hot cum ... " and with that she let the luxurious white mink fall away from her, exposing an exquisitely sensuous body completely naked to his greedy eyes. It was the most beautiful female body he had ever seen, and it was his for the taking. Reeve's cock was bobbing up and down under his pajamas. He was speechless. This gorgeous stranger, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, was brazenly inviting him to be seduced! Before he could say another word, Madame X had pushed her way into the compartment and locked the door behind her. "Lie down." she commanded. Still too startled to speak, Reeve did as he was told. Deftly she untied the sash of his robe and spread it open. Next she unsnapped the fly of his pajamas, then worked them down over his hips and legs until she had them off completely. She forced his thighs apart with her slender, elegant fingers. Then she knelt between his quivering limbs. She was still wearing the white mink coat, and Reeve could feel the smooth, satin lining again his flesh, and the soft, furry pelts. It was like a dream, a fantastic dream.
The ravishing brunette looked at him through thick, black-fringed lashes. Her eyes were a clear lime green, like a cat's eyes. The gaze was steady, assured, uninhibited, and he shuddered as he forced himself to return her gaze. Again she gave him her enigmatic smile, licking her soft, glossy lips as she did so. He was aching to feel her lips around his cockflesh; aching to feel the slippery strokes of her delicate tongue around his meat. He squeezed the muscles of his ass together and thrust his hips upward. His prick was only inches from her face, but it seemed a mile away for all the agony of anticipation he was experiencing.
"You want it, don't you?" she asked teasingly. "Oh, God yes. Yes!" he gasped, his voice quavering. She continued to smile and look into his eyes. Then slowly she began working with the buttons on his pajama top, starting with the last one. He could hardly bear the waiting. He wanted to shout out to her, "Come on, baby, eat my stiff cock. Take it into your mouth and suck it ... Suck It, you she-cat!" But he was too inhibited. It seemed as though she was forcing him to ask for what he wanted, for what she had offered. It was her game. But he held back.
"What a beautiful male specimen you are." she said, stroking the curls on his broad chest with her silken fingertips. Her long, oval nails were brightly lacquered with ruby polish, and each stroke made goosebumps rise on his flesh. He didn't dare question her actions or her motives. He was afraid it would break the spell; that she would change her mind. In fact, he had the worrisome thought perhaps this unbelievable creature would suddenly bolt from the compartment and vanish into the night as mysteriously as she had appeared before he had cum, leaving him with unbearable frustration.
Her fingers traced a pattern down his chest, past his stomach and into the hairy growth of his under belly. His cock twitched involuntarily. "You like that, don't you, handsome?" she asked.
"Oh yes, I love everything you're doing to me." he answered.
"What else would you like me to do to you?" she prompted.
Reeve knew what she wanted to hear. He was so hot he felt his cock would explode right then. "I ... I want you to go down on me. I want you to lick my cock all over, and eat my balls. I want you to take my hot prick into your beautiful wet mouth and suck it deep. I want to fuck your mouth with my big bulging prick."
"That's it, darling. Tell me. Beg me. Beg me!" she hissed hotly, breathing heavily as she wrapped her fingers gently around Reeve's heavily heated hardness and began to stroke it lightly. With the other hand, she clasped his balls and began to knead them gently. She was driving him out of his mind, and he began to squirm and writhe under her caresses. She was taunting him, driving him into a frenzy of longing and frustration.
"Oh, take it, honey, take it into your mouth. Please, honey ... don't torture me like this. Open your mouth, baby, and eat my hot cock. Please give it to me, baby. Please suck me. Oh suck me now, honey. Blow my cock!" he cried, and he grabbed her head between his hands and shoved her face down onto his throbbing cock. Her mouth was a warm channel of pure delight into which he thrust the full length of his heated member. He could feel her hot, wet tongue lashing his cock-flesh, sending shocks of sensual ecstasy through his body. She coursed the length of his prick with her tongue and swirled it around and around as though she were painting a barber pole. Then she clasped it in her delicate hand and withdrew it for a moment, so that she could lick and suck his balls. Reeve had never known such fantastic pleasure. Then she put the swollen rod of rock-hard flesh into her mouth again. He noticed that there were lipstick marks all over his prick, and it excited him even more. His balls were taut. He was getting closer and closer to cumming, much as he wanted to hold off, to prolong the fantastic experience. His hips were working in time with her mouth, fucking it rhythmically. He remembered that she had said she wanted him to fuck her. But that didn't mean right then! He could fuck her later. She was the kind of a woman he could fuck all night long, in fact. No, he couldn't stop now. He was too close ... too close to shooting his hot load into her gorgeous mouth ... too close to being sucked off by the most beautiful mouth in the world ...
Brrrrrrrrriiinnnnggggg! Reeve reached quickly across his sleeping wife and pushed the "Off" button on the clock radio. Goddammit! he swore under his breath. Chris stirred, her eye lids fluttering. He stifled a murmur with his lips as he pressed them savagely on her mouth. He felt her resisting, struggling under his weight, but he used his strength to subdue her. He had to have her! Roughly he pulled up her nightgown and spread her legs apart. There was no time to be gentle. His only thought was release for his aching balls, and the sweet deliverance his fantasy had prepared him for.
She was struggling more violently now, and that excited him even more. He'd make it up to her later, but now she would just have to give him his way. "Reeve, are you crazy? What the hell do you think you're doing? Get off, you're hurting me!" She pounding him with her fists and gasping for breath. She was furious. His cock found its target. She was dry, and he knew it would be painful for her, but he couldn't stop himself. He rammed his cock into her for all he was worth. He was panting like a stallion astride a mare. She let out a cry of pain loud enough to be heard way out in Malibu as he fucked in and out of her unwilling pussy a few times until his body stiffened and his balls exploded inside her, sending their pay load deep up into her cunt. Spasm after spasm of orgasmic ecstasy wracked his writhing body until at last, he collapsed, sweating profusely and breathing like a man suffering from emphysema. It was only later that he felt the sting on his face, and the warm trickle of blood on his cheek from her murderous nails. Reeve looked at his beautiful wife. There were bitter tears of anger and frustration in her eyes. "Chris?" he said. But she turned her head away from him. "Get off me, you fucking bastard," she said, her voice her voice filled with contempt. "Chris, I ... "Get off!" she screamed.
With that, Reeve raised himself up, withdrawing his spent cock from her sperm-washed pussy and stormed into the shower. He was feeling guilty as hell, but he was angry, too. He loved Chris, but he had to admit that their sex life was not all it could be. She was pissed off at him because he wouldn't let her record on the company's label, for one thing. Reeve had captured a plum in the recording industry: at 28 he was the youngest president of a major studio in the business, working his way up from office boy to talent scout to junior exec to the head of the company in just four years. He was considered the boy wonder of the record business and had helped make Phantasmix, Inc. one of the major labels in the country. He had met Chris while he was talent scouting a couple of years ago. She was playing a gig at one of the small clubs on the Sunset Strip, singing with a fold-rock trio. He was attracted by her innocence, her vulnerability and the fact that she wasn't like the other chicks he had known who would hop into bed at first meeting in hopes of getting a break. In fact, Chris had a fair amount of sexual hangups, which she seemed to have acquired from a rather severely moralistic upbringing as the daughter of a small-town clergyman. Reeve felt he could bring her around in time, but he had had only limited success. At times he doubted his own manhood because of it, feeling that maybe there was something wrong with him. But he had never really had any complaints from women before. Still, he had found himself confronting sexual problems of his own lately, like premature ejaculation, and it bothered the hell out of him. He also found that he was resorting to fantasies with increasing frequency. (This didn't help things with Chris either.)
Reeve dressed quickly then rushed out of the house without so much as a cup of coffee. Chris was still in bed when she heard the angry screech of tires as Reeve gunned the expensive Pantera motorcar and tore away from the house. Then she got up and went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She looked at herself in the mirror. The big green eyes were swollen from crying. Her long black hair was tousled and matted from the combat on the bed. Her lips were pouty and they felt bruised from the brutal way Reeve had kissed her as she lay there barely awake. Her sheer nightie was a mass of wrinkles. She pulled it up over her head and let it fall to the floor and stood there for a moment, surveying her body, something she had rarely allowed herself to do.
Chris looked at her mirror image very critically, without a trace of sensuous indulgence, as though she were someone else examining a human body with a strictly clinical eye. She surveyed her firm, round breasts with their small, sepia-colored nipples. Though they were full, they stood upright, with no need of support. Her rib cage was small, her waist narrow. Her hips flared gently, but they were not at all broad. She turned around. Her back was smooth and long, ending in two taut mounds. Her legs were long, with very pretty calves. She had a perfect pants figure. In fact, she had a perfect figure, toned by years of dancing lessons and outdoor sports like skiing and swimming. Her skin was flawless and creamy white.
She had to laugh a little ruefully when she thought of all the guys who had tried to get into her pants. Not one of them scored until she met Reeve. She liked him immediately because he didn't come on like a big bullshit artist or a super stud the way most of the guys did. He had a neat sense of humor, and she admired his mind. He was a guy who would make something of himself, you could tell that right away. He was filled with enthusiasm for almost everything, not cynical and "cool" like men of her age were -- or, tried to be. She felt safe with him, protected. She thought he would make everything "right". But she had found that even with Reeve, whom she dearly loved, she had some problems that were not responding, that were not being solved. Mostly she blamed herself. But sometimes she would become angry with him, too, feeling that he was selfish and impatient with her. She recognized that there was a certain hostility towards all men in her, as a matter of fact. At times she couldn't keep from feeling contemptuous of them, feeling that they were all fucking bastards who wanted nothing more from a woman than to get their rocks off in a cozy pussy. They were no better than the most primitive of animals, and they ought to be put down because of it.
Where had these ideas come from? She had searched her mind again and again for clues. But always the answer eluded her. It was very upsetting to even think about it. Quickly Chris stepped into the shower and let the soothing water cascade over her body. She ached between the legs. Her battered vagina throbbed with pain. She felt unclean, used, soiled. Her own husband, the man she loved so much, had used her like a whore! Suddenly Chris's anger rose in her like an erupting volcano. She turned on the shower full blast, grabbed the shampoo and began vigorously massaging her scalp, digging her nails into her skin until she nearly broke them. She hated Reeve at that moment, hated him desperately. The forceful spray rained mercilessly on her, mixing with her fresh tears of indignation. But much of her torment came from the enormous guilt and self-doubt that lay inside her. Was she a real woman, or just a frightened, frigid young girl with a stunted sexuality? She had to find out. She needed to punish, but she badly needed to be punished too. In a moment of blind anguish, a fiendish idea popped into her mind. She started to sing wildly: " ... And I go down, down, down, in that burnin' ring of fire ... " Her mind was racing. She was giddy, laughing and crying at the same time and singing at the top of her lungs. Finally, she turned off the faucets, dried her hair m the sun as she sat by the pool having coffee, all the while her thoughts clicking away with computer-like rapidity, then she went in, carefully selected a pair of tight-fitting French jeans and a revealing Jax tee-shirt and left the house. She drove fast, not knowing where she was going, nor when she would be back.
Chapter Two
Reeve got to his office half an hour early. The short drive did nothing to settle his stomach or weave his frayed nerves. He was hot, nervous and short-tempered. He breathed a grateful sigh of relief to find the office void of co-workers.
He switched on the instant coffee machine, lit a cigarette and sat down heavily at his desk. There were the usual trade magazines, some inter-office memos, a couple of jackets that were midway into production; the usual stuff. Then his eye fell on a clipping from the LA Times. It was an ad for a club in Venice, showing a clean-cut youth playing guitar. The name on the caption was Jeremy Stokes. Reeve thought to himself, "Another fucking folk singer! Who needs it!" But there was a note scribbled across the clipping:
Reeve --This kid is dynamite!! Don't miss Shane!
Shane was his best scout. He had an unfailing ear and eye for hot new talents, and he didn't make recommendations lightly. In fact, Shane was considered pretty hard-boiled, a real cynic. Reeve knew him simply as a professional who was a damned expert at his job. Shane had been responsible for signing several "comers" to the Phantasmix label. So when Shane gave him the word on somebody, Reeve caught the act.
He put the clipping in his wallet. He scanned one magazine, but he couldn't concentrate. His eyes saw words, but his mind was back on Doheney Drive. That was really a rotten thing to do to Chris, he was thinking. Geezus, it'll take a week to mend that fence! Meantime, he'll have to jerk off to keep from getting a bad case of lover's nuts! He reached for the phone. He wanted to apologize, to try and patch things up between them. But what if she rejected him? Chris tended to brood about things, to keep things to herself when she was really bugged. That always ticked him off because he felt helpless. At those times she was totally unreachable, and he somehow blamed himself for not being able to get her into a good mood.
Reeve banged the phone down on its cradle, swearing under his breath. The coffee was boiling, and he got up and poured himself a cup, spilling half of the scalding brew down his hand-tailored suit. Shit! he swore loudly, throwing the cup against the door. He rushed into the lavatory and turned on the cold water. He tried to mop the stain with a towel. He caught sight of his face in the mirror. There was a visible track on his left cheek where Chris had raked him with her sharp nails. "Frigid bitch!" he said to the mirror, throwing the wet towel in the sink.
Just then the door opened and in breezed Mar go, his attractive secretary. She was startled to see him. "Oh!" she said.
"Can't you knock?" he snarled at her.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Reeve. I didn't expect you to be here." She had a stack of mail in her hands. "Can I get you some hot coffee?"
"I just had my coffee, thanks very much!" he snapped, pointing to the wet stain on his trousers.
"Gee, boss. I'm sorry." she said. Then she noticed the cup on the floor. She looked up at him, her eyes full of questions that she didn't dare ask.
"Well, clean it up!" he snapped again, lighting another cigarette.
Margo was taken aback. She was used to his moods. He was under terrific pressure most of the time. But he had never spoken to her like that before. "I'll get George, the maintenance man." she said quietly. He got the message.
"Yeah, that's right, baby. Let George do it. You're a liberated woman, and liberated women don't do things like that, do they? They just run around the office wearing their skirts half way up the their asses so they can turn us poor bastards on, right?"
The phone rang. Margo took a step towards his desk, but he picked it up. "Yes!" he shouted into the transmitter.
"Eh ... Reeve, this is Walt. Have you made a decision on that jacket cover for The Vibes? We got a deadline on it, you know."
Reeve felt the knot of tension grow tighter in his stomach. He threw the trade mags off his desk and reached for the two mock ups. Each had a photograph of a rock group. One showed them in concert, the other had them standing on the roof of a Century City skyscraper wearing only smiles, their genitals covered by their instruments. He hadn't been able to make a decision on it.
"Walt, I'll have to get back to you on this one." he said.
"But Reeve, the deadline is ... "
"Goddamn it, I know when the fucking deadline is! I said I'll get back to you!"
There was a short silence on the other end of the line.
"Sure. Sure thing. I'll be standing by." Walt said. "And relax, huh? You sound a little tense."
"Sorry about that. Okay, sorry Walt. You're right. I am a little tense. One of those mornings, you know?"
"I know what you mean. Happens to the best of us. Talk to you later."
"Right." Reeve said as they both hung up. Margo was still standing there watching him, a hurt look in her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Margo." he said in a more controlled voice.
"What's the matter?" she asked him quietly.
"Nothing. Come over here and help me out with these jacket shots. Then I'll get Walt off my back at least."
Margo bent down over the desk, intent on the photos. Reeve could see her cleavage in the revealing blouse she wore. He had a wild urge to grab her boobs. Christ! he thought, why does she have to be my secretary? I could bang her right here in the office!
"Lousy bodies." she said, looking at the naked ensemble standing on the roof. "Yeah, they look like a bunch of fruits," chimed Reeve. "But that's good. The more bizarre the better. What do you think of the other one, Margo?"
She scanned the "in concert" shot. Lots of hair, rhinestones and three-inch heels. Back lighting.
"This one has a certain excitement, boss. But it's been done before."
"They've both been done before, if you know what I mean. I can't get turned on by either one of the damned things. But then, fruits don't turn me on anyway. Okay ... call Walt. Tell him I want a billboard behind the rooftop shot. Like this." He drew a rectangle in back of the musicians which made them look as though they were part of a billboard, except that their legs were planted on the roof. He put some zigzags behind them in the billboard space. "Have him give it a psychedelic color treatment. You know, vibrations."
"That's brilliant! That's just what it needed, boss!" she said enthusiastically.
"Thanks. I couldn't have done it without you, kid. Now take these fucking jackets, okay? And get ol' George in here with his trusty mop or whatever. Oh, and get me a sweet roll and a decent cup of coffee when you get a minute, OK? I'll have some stuff for you to type up in about twenty minutes -- as soon as I get through talking into the little grey box."
Margo was nodding her head and smiling. She turned before she walked out the door. "Nice to have you back." she grinned. Reeve waved her on as he returned the grin. Damn! he thought, she really has a good pair of legs!
Reeve picked up the first letter in his "Do It" box. He briefly scanned it, then picked up the mike on the dictaphone machine. He hesitated, holding the mike loosely in his hand. His thoughts kept returning to Chris, and the scene that morning. The knot in his stomach grew tighter again. Guilt, anger, resentment and remorse all played in his mind like a bad group playing off key and out of tempo. He felt he was reaching some sort of crisis point in his life, and there seemed to be no way out of it. He loved Chris, but there seemed to be no way to really get to her. Unless they could work out their sexual problems, the marriage was headed for the rocks. It was affecting his work, his health, his emotional life. He'd thought about seeing a marriage counselor, even a shrink. But Chris wouldn't even talk about counseling for the two of them. And he didn't want to wind up dependent on some nut who charged fifty bucks an hour to hear your crap. Reeve Richards didn't see himself capitulating to the "easy way out" like so many guys in the business did.
There was a buzz on the intercom.
"Yeah, Margo."
"It's that country-rock vocalist you signed recently, Jeannie Jerome. She sure sounds mad, boss."
That's all I need, he thought wearily, more trouble with women. "Well tell her she can shove her guitar up her ... Tell her to call back later. Or not at all!!!" he snapped and switched off the intercom.
The rest of the morning was a series of hassles. Reeve chain-smoked his way through it, growling and grumbling at everything and everyone in range. He was like a coiled spring. At 11:30 he couldn't take it anymore. He stormed out of the office headed for his favorite lunch time restaurant, where the atmosphere was dark and the martini's generous. "I'll be at Bruno's, Margo. Don't wait up for me!"
Chapter Three
Chris found herself in Venice, the "hippie" town where she had lived for a couple of years before meeting Reeve. She was a struggling singer then, getting gigs with folk-rock trios at small clubs in the area. There were a lot of memories there, not all of them good. But she felt suddenly "at home" again.
She parked the car and began walking around the familiar streets, walking into some of the funky shops, where she bought several Indian shirts and skirts and a woven bag. She always had the urge to splurge whenever she was feeling insecure. She bought jewelry and some printed scarves, and at one place, she suddenly decided to change clothes. She traded her jeans and tee-shirt for a wrap-around sarong skirt and a sheer Indian blouse that did nothing to hide her ripe young breasts and her trim, shapely hips. She put one of the scarves around her head, added a necklace, bracelets, dangle earrings and several rings and surveyed herself in the mirror. She looked exotic, almost like a gypsy. "In her own estimation, she looked like a good looking whore. Which is exactly the way she wanted to look. Of course, that kind of garb was nothing new in Venice. It wasn't the clothing, it was the woman inside them that drew admiring glances from the dudes on the street.
Chris stopped at a beer and sandwich place she used to go to. She remembered it as having the best tacos in L.A.
As she sat there sipping the cold Mexican beer, she began to think about the ugly events in bed with Reeve that morning. She was filled with quiet desperation. "Oh, God, what's the matter with me?" she agonized inwardly. Lately she had been troubled with the persistent worry that maybe there was something abnormal about her, that maybe she was frigid after all. She had secretly thought of going to an analyst, but she quickly dismissed the idea. Her father had told her that seeing a psychiatrist was for atheists, that the true believer who was "strong in the Lord" would never need to resort to such crutches. But her real fear was in having to discuss anything sexual to reveal things about her past, things about her feelings and experiences that would be humiliating to divulge.
She took a long swallow from the beer mug. She had never been much of a drinker and, in the hot May sun, the beer went quickly to her head. She closed her eyes. Suddenly, amid a kaleidoscopic rush of images, a scenario long repressed began to take shape in her mind.
It was a muggy, Ohio summer night. She had been very upset about something that had happened earlier that day, when she had been taking a long, cool bath and her older brother Danny had burst in on her, wearing only his jockey shorts. She was sure she had locked the bathroom door! She had screamed and tried to cover herself with her hands. Danny was as embarrassed as she was -- there was never anything but the most inhibited kind of affection allowed in the family, and Chris and her brother were carefully segregated within the family from the time they were small children. Neither her mother or her father ever made the slightest mention of "sex" except in the context of sin. As a result, Christ and her brother grew up in total sexual ignorance. She guessed that Chris might have had some limited experimentation in the back seats of cars, though she didn't know how much or with whom. After all, he was seventeen.
As for her own venturing into the vast sexual unknown, it was nil. At fourteen years of age, she had never even masturbated.
But that night, as she lay there tossing and perspiring on the hot sheet, she couldn't help thinking about her brother's strong, well-formed body, and the fact that there was a noticeable bulge in his skimpy underwear before he made his embarrassed retreat from the bathroom.
She reluctantly acknowledge to herself that it had created strange feelings in her body, stirrings she had never known before. And as she lay there restlessly, her skin began to shiver and tingle with a forbidden feeling of longing. Somewhere deep inside she began to feel the wild urge to caress her own body. She looked down at the small puffy mouth between her legs. It was sparsely covered with a little patch of soft, dark ringlets. Despite the feeling that she shouldn't, she let her hands move toward the sensuously wafting little patch. The delicately curled tendrils were warm and damp and so soft to the touch. It was a curiously delightful feeling, she thought, to touch herself this way. Instinctively, she drew her knee up and spread her legs farther apart, in order to place her whole palm over the softly trembling mound of her cunt. She was amazed to feel a throbbing under her hand, almost like a heartbeat. She slipped her middle finger between the moist little hairs of the outer lips, and felt a sudden inward contraction around it, a spasm that seemed to go through her whole body. How funny, she thought, it's like a little drum. Instinctively she continued to probe the unexplored flesh of her trembling little pussy. She worked her fingers forward until they touched the tiny bud of her pubescent clitoris. A delightful shock, almost like electricity, passed through her innocent young body. She began to flick her fingers lightly back and forth over the trembling organ, not allowing herself to think of what she was doing. As she did so, the wonderful feeling, so exciting and so mysterious, increased. She felt she had made a wonderful discovery. With her free hand, she touched the soft, moist outer lips. Her excitement rose. She began to squirm and twist her virginal young body as the flames of newly discovered passion pulled her on and on.
"Ooooohhhh," she moaned. "Ooooohh."
She was breathing more rapidly now, as she flicked her fingers more intensively over her tiny, sensuous clitoris, now throbbing erect, then over the entire slippery crevice. Each motion of her fingers created a wild, exciting sensation that she had never known before. Her slim, pubescent body was wracked with thrills that were totally new! She was experiencing the first awakening of pleasure; her body was electrified with the strange stirrings of early adolescence.
"Yess ... yess ... yessss!" she hissed in the darkness as she virtually tore off the flimsy shortie nightgown that had worked its way up to her waist. She lay there totally naked, running her hands over her supple young flesh, relishing the feel of her own body. She fondled her warm budding breasts. She pinched the little nipples, which sent more shocks of pleasure through her. She cupped one of them in her hands, and bent her head down as best she could, sticking her delicate pink tongue out as far as possible, in an attempt to lick the taut little mound. She could only reach the top of it, but her swabbing produced more feelings of excitement in her. She couldn't suppress the wicked thought that it would be wonderful to have a boy's tongue doing that to her breast. Then she flashed on Danny again, and the brief encounter in the bathroom. It was too sinful to think about. It made her feel ashamed, and she tried to put his image out of her mind. But as her fingers returned to her young cuntal passage, she couldn't help but think about the long cylindrical bulge in his jockey shorts, and she speculated on what it must look like. Little did she dream that her brother, Danny, who was supposedly sleeping in the bedroom adjacent to hers, had also been lying awake, and had heard her moans through the thin wall that separated them ... that he had tiptoed down the short hallway ever so stealthily and had very softly turned the doorknob and opened the door just a crack ... enough to allow him to watch his kid sister, whose nakedly spread body was softly illumined by the rays of moonlight that shone on the bed!
Her heart pounding with excitement, Chris wormed her fingers further and further into the squishy channel of her cunt, overcome with delightful flashes of warmth and wet, slippery excitement.
She soon realized that by fucking her fingers in and out, she could increase the wonderful sensations she was experiencing. And so, with increasing excitement, she began to manipulate her fingers in the tenderly pulsating hole; she increased her strokes, and as she did, she felt herself possessed by sweet, aching feelings that seemed to transport her far from her bed, far from the room, into a paradise of new-found delight, laced with wondrous new feelings of desire. Although she did not know what she was doing, and was simply responding to the deeper urges of instinct and nature, she did know she had never felt anything so wonderful in all her life! She pulled her legs up even further, opening her heated young pussy even wider, manipulating her clitoris and thin, fleshy vaginal furrow with increasing abandon and passion. She arched her body upwards, her fingers sinking deeper and deeper. Her breathing became quicker, sweat began to drench her naked young body, she felt consumed in an incredible steamy wetness.
Danny, afraid that his parents would hear her sounds -- her mother slept with one eye open -- had quietly sneaked into Chris's bedroom and noiselessly closed the door behind him. His young cock was bulging out of his jockey shorts, and he felt his balls would burst at any moment. He clutched his rigid young hardness desperately wanting to stroke it, but not daring to. He knew he would cream out all over the floor right away.
Chris began to shudder from deep, deep within her, and the intensity of the feeling at first terrified her. She was about to experience her first orgasm; the tender, bursting bloom of adolescence was about to crash over her like a light summer storm. But she was carried forward by the waves of pleasure that washed over her, and her anxiety soon melted in the river of excitement that began to gush from the electric nerve ends in and around her heated young pussy.
"Aaaaahhhh!" she cried aloud, overcome by a wild shattering force, a deep and thrilling ecstasy that seemed to overwhelm her completely. She was cumming! Her smooth, white-skinned body, so ripe and tender, was shuddering with the waves of that voluptuous radiance. Her pubescent body was flushed with the intense, orgasmic glow that pervaded her. She felt as if the floodgates had opened deep within her cuntal passage and a rushing, shimmery waterfall of incredible ecstasy was carrying her away on the tide. Her young body was convulsed with deep, thundering spasms. Her cuntal passage was drenched in the first rush of sexual fluids. She felt herself soaring upward in a wild flight of feeling, light as a feather, light as a hummingbird. Her hips were twisting and thrashing; her throbbing cuntal slit was a surging volcano of excitement ...
"Ooooohhh!" she moaned ecstatically. "Oooohh!"
It was more than Danny could take. He had only meant to watch. He only wanted to witness this incredibly exciting scene on the bed, then he intended to slip quietly back to his room and jerk off. That's what he intended to do. But he had never seen anything in his life as exciting as his naked sister lying there masturbating on her bed and then cumming the way she did!
Without thinking of the consequences, Danny ran to his sister's bed and threw himself on top of her, pulling his shorts down around his thighs so that his hard young cock and his taut balls were in naked contact with her firm, perspiring flesh. Chris, still luxuriating in the lingering afterglow of her first orgasmic experience, was totally unprepared for the surprise attack. She had but an instant of shock before Danny's lips came down heavily of hers and she felt his tongue burrowing ineptly into her mouth. The unspeakable sin -- incest -- was happening between the preacher's son and daughter. Oh dear God, would she be damned forever?
Christ let his full weight fall on her as he writhed and squirmed on her naked body, his smooth, muscular chest crushing her young breasts, and his hard male organ grinding into her pubic mound. Then she felt him tense and shudder violently, over and over as she gasped aloud, burying his face in her pillow to muffle the sound. Seconds later, she felt a strange, sticky wetness gushing out between them on her lower belly. She was frightened. What was it? Blood? Her vagina still tingled from her own orgasm, and though she felt frightened, confused and horrified at what had happened between them, she was still floating on the dwindling tide of ecstasy. In one way, she bitterly resented Danny's invasion of her new and secret world of joy. She was also humiliated beyond belief at having been discovered, at having Danny see her in her private ecstasy. But somewhere there was a trace of forbidden excitement at the contact with his male body. His smell was different from hers. She like it. She liked the feel of his skin against hers. She wanted to look at his penis and his furry testicles ...
Suddenly, the bedroom light was snapped on, and an anguished voice screamed out at them!
"So this is where the devil finds his work! Dear God in Heaven, why this!?! Get yourself covered, so that decent people can bear to look at you!"
Her father's voice cried out in rage and torment. Then he switched off the light and stood there, leaving the door open, waiting for Danny to "dress" and head back to his room. Without looking at his sister, Danny quickly pulled up his shorts and ran out of the bedroom. Chris lay there, terrified, her body curled in a tight fetal position under the sheet she had hastily wrapped around her. The sticky, wet fluid on her belly had dripped onto the lower sheet, making a cold, wet puddle under her thigh. She began to cry.
"You'll stay in this room until I say otherwise, young lady!" her father's voice boomed out at her. "And if I were you, I'd spend the rest of the night asking the Good Lord for forgiveness. God knows, you need it, after what you've done!" Then he slammed the door shut, leaving the air heavy with the ring of his condemning diatribes. Chris agreed at that point that her father was right, she must be the worst, most hopeless sinner in the world. She deserved to be punished.
Shortly after her father slammed the door, she heard the door to Danny's room close. Then there were angry words and accusations, and finally, the sound of her father's wide leather belt against Danny's flesh. This upset Chris all the more. She felt it was she who should be beaten more than Danny. She doubted that she would ever get over the shame that night had brought her, and she sobbed bitterly into her tear-stained pillow until she finally fell asleep.
The next day, she awoke to find her mother standing at the foot of the bed, weeping softly and drying her tears with the hem of her apron. It was an image that was to repeat itself again and again in the next few months that followed. She also learned that Danny had run away in the middle of the night. None of them ever saw him again. Five months later, her parents received a telegram informing them that their son, Private Daniel G. Banks, had been killed while serving his country on active duty in Vietnam.
Chris blamed herself for Danny's death, chided herself for her shameless sexual experimentation, and she sensed that in some ways, her parents blamed her, too. She began to develop some persistent respiratory problems, along with heart palpitations. After several consultations with the old family doctor, the wise man recommended that Chris be sent to Arizona, to live with her mother's maiden aunt. She was grateful for the opportunity to get away from her parents. But Aunt Dorothy shared her parent's puritanical views. She was not allowed to date, or have friends to the house, so that most of her remaining teen years were lonely and wretched. Aunt Dorothy hated men, and never tired of lecturing her teenage niece about their animalistic natures, and how they only wanted to use a woman, then discard her as trash. But by the time Chris was ready to go to college, she was so gun shy about men that she would barely talk to them. After a year at UCLA, she was able to come out of herself a bit, but her feelings about the opposite sex, and about her own womanhood, were very blurry and ill defined. When she married Reeve, she thought that magically all of her hangups would fade into history. But that hadn't been the case. Despite her desire to give herself to him fully, something always held her back. She hardly ever had an orgasm, and this bothered her tremendously; in no small part because she knew it made him feel that there was something wrong with him. But she had gotten some valuable insight from his selfish attack on her this morning. It had opened a tiny door of awareness in her mind. She knew what she had to do, though it would be the hardest thing in the world to go through with. She would become the thing he treated her as. She would be, a whore -- another man's whore. If she could be successful as that, perhaps she could be Reeve's wife completely, and give herself to him totally, uninhibitedly at last. That would salvage their marriage. But could she do it? ...
Chris blinked a few times under the rays of the hot sun. She shielded her eyes with her hand and found herself looking into the handsome face of a young man who was staring at her intently. My God, she thought, he looks just like Danny! She was shaken, and quickly looked away, draining the last of the beer in the large stein. She got up too fast, and her head reeled, causing her to grab onto the table for a moment. She walked away hurriedly, her eyes focused straight ahead of her, not daring to look in the young man's direction again. When she was about thirty yards down the street, she heard someone call to her.
"Hey, hey miss, wait!"
She kept going, pretending not to hear. Then she heard running footsteps behind her. "Hey, excuse me. You left these in the chair!" Chris turned just as the young man caught up with her. His arms were full of packages which she recognized as her indulgent purchases of that morning. Her face flushed with embarrassment. She didn't want to look at him. It was the boy with Danny's face!
"Thanks. Thanks a lot." she said, looking down at the paper bags. She started to take them. "I'll carry them. How far you going?" he asked good naturedly.
"I ... I don't know."
"Huh?" he questioned.
"I mean, I guess I'll take them to my car. It's a couple of blocks away ... that way." She pointed.
"Far out. That's just the direction I'm going in. You live in Venice?" he asked her.
"Not any more. I used to a couple of years ago."
"Oh yeah? Where do you live now?"
"Now I live somewhere else."
"Oh ... well, I didn't mean to be nosey or anything ... "
"Forget it, okay?" she said quickly. For some reason she felt like crying. They walked on in silence for almost a block. Chris still would not look at him. There was some kind of electric current between them. She felt it, and she knew that he must be feeling it, too. Her mind was racing. Grateful, she spotted her car.
"There's my car. That blue TR-3 across the street."
"Nice car. Here's mine." He held up his thumb in a hitch-hike sign and grinned. Chris had to laugh, and she allowed herself to look at him ever so briefly, then she put her head down quickly.
"Hey, you should smile more. You have a beautiful smile, gypsy." he said, bending his head down to look at her more closely. That made her laugh, too. She was still smiling as she put the packages in the trunk of the car.
"Do you have to go?" he asked earnestly.
"Well ... I ... "
"Please let me buy you a drink." he said.
"I think I've had enough already."
"Then a milkshake? A sasparilla? Or how about a hot fudge sundae?"
Chris had to laugh again. There was something so ingenuous, so appealing about the youth. "Too fattening!" she teased back.
"Gypsy, if there's one thing you don't have it's a weight problem!"
Chris stopped smiling and looked down again. His simple remark of appreciation touched off something unexplainable in her. She began to cry.
"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. You have the most perfect body I've ever laid eyes on, that's all. I really meant it as a compliment." He was touching her very lightly on the shoulder. He wanted to hold her, as though she were a child, wanted to say, "there, there, now. It's going to be all right." What she said next completely bowled him over.
"Do you live alone?" He nodded affirmatively. "Can I go home with you for awhile?" she asked, like a child asking to play with a toy.
"Sure. You bet. I just live down the street. Come on, gypsy ... er, what is your name, by the way? Mine's ... "
"No names, please. No names. Not right now." she said, wiping the tears from her face. Then she managed a soft smile. "Just call me Gypsy."
Chris recognized the boy's house as one where a couple of her musician friends used to live. She remarked about that, asking him if he knew them. But he didn't. They were no longer there. The house was a two-story number in need of painting. There were three small apartments on each floor. The boy's was the last one on the second floor. For a moment Chris almost backed out. She knew she was treading on dangerous ground. But she reminded herself that that was exactly where she wanted to be ... on dangerous ground.
She saw immediately that the youth was a musician. There were two guitars in the sparsely furnished room, and were the best that were made. There were lots of huge pillows on the floor, which was decorated with a montage of jacket covers, clippings, drawings and odds and ends of things, then coated with plastic resin. She thought it was a very clever decorating device. There was a tie-dyed parachute draped from the ceiling, a line of footprints painted horizontally along the walls from the left side of the door all the way around the room, ending at the right side of the door. Under the footprints was an elongated arrow and the words, "This way out." Under a sunny window that overlooked a small, cluttered garden were the words "Far out, Ophelia!" There were a couple of worn oriental rugs on the floor, a door propped on two saw horses, littered with books, composition paper and curious objects, which obviously served as a desk. There was a high stool in front of it, and an antique wicker pram filled with books inside. But the most unusual thing of all was a seven foot polar bear standing in the middle of the room with blinking lights for eyes, and colored light bulbs in its mouth and paws!
"That's Fred," he explained as she looked at the stuffed bear with wonderment. "He keeps the wolf from the door, and a few other creeps. Bet he never thought he'd wind up as a light fixture ... not to mention Burns detective!"
"That absolutely ingenious! I love him!" Chris enthused. The young man went into the kitchen. She could hear him rummaging around in the refrigerator. "Feel like something cool?" he asked.
"Fine." He appeared shortly with a pitcher of red liquid and two glasses. "Hawaiian punch." he grinned. "It's very low calorie."
They sat on the huge pillows on the floor and talked about a lot of things. At one point he rolled a joint, and they shared it together. He had a delightful sense of humor, and Chris felt very relaxed with him, except that he did bear an uncomfortable resemblance to her dead brother. But that was what had drawn her to him so magnetically. She felt somehow as though she were in the grip of fate, being pulled into a vortex of circumstance over which she had no control. She felt strange, and she attributed it to the grass she smoked. But there was another group of sensations, too.
She begged him to play some of his music for her. At first he brushed her request aside, saying that he was a phony, that the guitars were for decoration, left there by a former tenant who freaked out on acid one night and that his ghost still haunted the place. Finally, she prevailed upon him to play and sing for her. She was overwhelmed by his voice, his total musicianship, the sometimes sad, sometimes happy, sometimes funny lyrics in his songs. She had never heard anyone quite like him before. She wanted so badly to have Reeve hear him. She felt sure that Reeve would be as impressed as she was. This kid was sensational. He had a maturity in his, a depth of feeling that was uncommon for someone she guessed to be no more than nineteen years old -- four years younger that she was. As he sat on the floor near her, strumming his guitar, his eyes closed, she found herself scanning his body. He was tanned and muscular, but not with the kind of overdeveloped muscles you see on those professional beach bums. He had strong arms and hands, and his muscles rippled as he played. He wore tight Levi's that were almost white from laundering. Chris involuntarily glanced at his crotch. She could see the bulge of his large penis and his full testicles. He opened his eyes and caught her looking at him down there. She turned away with a flush of embarrassment.
"Do you work?" he asked her suddenly.
"Eh ... yes. I do."
"Well?"
"I'm a fortune teller. Want me to read your palm?"
"I'd never say no to an offer like that!" he shouted, putting his guitar down and scooting next to her. He held out his hand. Her fingers were slightly sweaty when she took his hand and placed it in her palm. Then she began to touch it lightly with her other fingers.
"I see that you are an extremely sensitive, intelligent man. You are exceptionally talented and have a great future in the music business. In fact, I see a piece of paper. It is some kind of legal document, a contract. It will mean a great deal of money for you if you sign this paper."
"Fantastic. When is that going to happen, Gypsy?"
"Sooner than you might think. There is a very strong possibility that it will happen in the near future."
"What else do you see, wise and beautiful lady?"
Chris's hands were shaking more noticeably now. She didn't know what was happening to her, or what was making her react that way. But she felt compelled to go on.
"What about my love life?" he asked. "Anything interesting there?"
"Hmmmmmm. Yes. Yes, as a matter of fact. I see a mysterious woman. A stranger. She is very attracted to you, but she is afraid. She has some serious problems in her life ... problems she doesn't know how to solve. She comes to you because she is desperate, and because you look so much like her dead brother. She wants to be ... a ... whore for you. She wants you to treat her as a common whore ... and not ask why, not ask for explanations, for reasons. She can only assure you that this is her way to try to solve some of the disturbing problems that she has ... "
Chris's voice trailed off. She could not believe the words she had just spoken. It was totally unlike her, to say the least. She would never even have dreamed of taking such a bold step if she had not been so frantically seeking answers within. The beer, the grass and the "punch" -- which was obviously laced with wine -- had loosened her inhibitions. Still, she was filled with guilt and embarrassment. She couldn't bear to look at him.
For a long while the young man said nothing. Then he spoke quietly. "What if I don't want to treat her like a whore? What if I want to treat her with tenderness, and gentleness? What if I don't want to play the fucking bastard out to get laid? What if I don't want to be used to solve problems that way?"
Chris started to cry again. She hadn't expected that kind of answer. She hadn't thought about it from his point of view. She buried her face in the pillows, sobbing her heart out. Seconds later, she felt his arms around her shoulders. He grabbed her chin and forced her to turn around.
"Look at me!" he commanded. "Please look at me!"
He was a blur through her tear-filled eyes. And in that blur he looked more like Danny than ever before. She saw the blur coming closer and closer ...
His lips crushed hers and his tongue filled her mouth. He wiped her tears away with the soft, thick curls on his head as he brushed his face back and forth gently across hers. He placed his mouth over the sheer material of her Indian shirt and sucked one of her breasts. It was a fantastic feeling, and despite her sadness and confusion, she felt a wave of pleasure go through her and her nipple grow rigid under his lips. She gasped. Perhaps because she felt the disguise of anonymity, with neither of them knowing each other's name, feeling that she would never see him again, that she began to shuck off some of the stifling inhibitions that had cramped her sexuality so often before. There was something unbelievably exciting about having this young man whom she had just met a couple of hours before, doing intimate things to her body.
He began to caress her everywhere, making no attempt to undress her. His touch was sensitive, reassuring, and yes, exciting! Her sobs were turning to soft mewls of delight. She couldn't believe that she was responding this way, but the wetness between her legs told her that it was undeniably true!
The youth leaned closer to her face and looked penetratingly into her eyes. His gaze was compelling. She tried to turn away but once again he took her face in his hands and forced her to look at him.
"Do you still think you want to be treated as a whore?" he asked her seriously. "Do you want me to play the Whore-monger?"
"I ... I know you can't understand. I'm not sure I do either. I don't care how you treat me, I guess. I only know that I want you to make love to me, and I want to make love to you. I'm not very good at it. But I want to do everything ... everything! Please ... I'll tell you one thing about me, just one. I've been fucking for nearly a year and I've been a rotten failure in bed. Today, sitting at that outdoor cafe, I flashed on something that happened years ago with my brother -- the brother you look so much like. I believe everything happens for a reason, and that it was no accident we met the way we did today. I don't know if you feel as I do about it, but I know there's some sort of invisible cord that links us together. If you think that's using you, well, maybe it is. But I'm asking you to use me too, so if we're even, nobody's using anybody ... "
His face broke into a broad grin. "Were you ever on a debate team, Gypsy? You'd make one hell of a spokeswoman for just about anything! All right, you mysterious wench. I'm going to give you a chance to put your money where your beautiful mouth is!"
Abruptly he got up and moved away from her, propping himself on the pillows as though he were a spectator at a porn performance. Chris looked confused for a moment. Then he clapped his hands imperiously. "Dance, slave girl. Take off your sandals and dance for my lascivious pleasure. Ah, one moment. Some musical accompaniment."
He reached over and thumbed quickly through a stack of records until he found the one he was looking for. He put it on the turntable, then sat back, an impish grin on his face.
Chris slipped off her sandals and slowly rose to her feet. She had always been a very good dancer, able to dance to any kind of music with ease. She recognized the record as something Ravi Shankar had done early in his career. She began to whirl to the tempo of the music, and as she did, she did a sensuous strip tease, starting with the scarf around her head. She held it up in front of her face like a veil, allowing only her eyes to show. She forced herself to look at him as she danced, and she saw the growing bulge in his crotch. He didn't appear to have any underwear on!
Next, she raised the sheer blouse over her head and passed it a couple of times across her breasts before flinging it aside. Wearing only the tight sarong and bikini panties underneath, Chris kept dancing, parting the wrapped fabric to show her beautifully shaped legs. His hand was at his fly now, fondling the bulge and scooting down further on the pillows. Chris felt herself being turned on more and more. She had a wild urge to bury her face in his genitals.
She turned her back to him and marked time to the music while untying the sash of her skirt. Then slowly, very slowly, holding both edges of the sarong out to the sides, she started to rub the fabric back and forth across her bottom, lowering it inch by inch as she did. It passed the luscious cheeks of her firm, bikini-clad ass, then slithered past her creamy thighs, past the curvaceous calves and the trim ankles to the floor before she released it from her hands. She did a slow turn in time to the music, her body bent forward like a whirling dervish. Then she pranced before him, her softly curved breast-flesh jostling sensuously on her cunt.
The young man's eyes were glazed with sexual excitement. He kept squeezing his genitals with his strong hands. There was a fine film of perspiration on his forehead.
Chris hooked her thumbs into the bottom edges of her bikini panties and brushed the curls on her pussy mound. The growth was dark but sparse. She didn't have a thick, black bush of hair the way so many women do. Her pubic patch looked more like a pubescent young girl's ... the way it looked that night in her bedroom in Ohio ...
Chris was becoming more and more turned on, more than she had been since that night! What was happening to her? She had never been wild like this before. Reeve was a terrific lover, and he had tried everything, but she never got to that point of urgency, that white hot heat of desire that she so longed to feel. But she was beginning to feel it now!
She eased her panties down to her ankles and kicked them toward the young man. He caught them in his hands and put them up to his face, inhaling her scent! Then he held them up, as though he were hanging clothes on a line, and he did something that drove her right out of her mind and shocked her beyond belief: he threw back his head, stuck out his tongue, and licked the crotch of her panties! They were damp from her beginning cunt juices, which they both were aware of.
He looked at her then with a wicked little smile on his face. Chris was flushed with excitement that overrode her shock and embarrassment. Then he motioned with his finger for her to come over to him. "Come here, beautiful gypsy. I want to put my tongue in the source of those succulent juices," he said, stressing the "sue."
Chris moved to him obediently, like a hypnotic subject. She couldn't believe what was happening inside her. She couldn't believe what was happening, period!
"Spread those gorgeous legs, my gypsy whore. Your master wants to stick his tongue up your hot little pussy and make it gush with pleasure."
The lubricating juices were almost trickling down her thighs! He pulled her toward him, spread her excitedly quivering pussy lips apart, and without another word, began licking the full length of her softly furred pussy-slit, starting with the hotly throbbing little clitoris nipple. She almost fell to the floor, her knees buckling severely. Without thinking, she thrust her hips forward to bury his lips and tongue in her pussy. He was really tonguing her now, lapping the sensitive flesh like a hungry male cat at a saucer. Swirling sensations filled her cunt and stretched, like streamers tossed from a high window to her thighs. Her breasts were taut, her nipples hard, and she was reeling from the fabulous sensations this unknown young man was producing in her. He was sucking up all of her cunt nectar, and plunging his tongue in and out of her juicy little cunt-hole until she could stand it no longer. The sensations that built in her were like a giant wall of water straining against a dam. She grabbed hold of his soft black mop of hair and pulled his face even further into her pussy, grinding her pubic mound against his face as she had never done in her life. The tip of his nose rubbed against her clitoris and the dam broke! A flood of orgasmic ecstasy washed over her body and she shimmied and shook like a woman possessed by a voodoo spell. She almost fell, and he grabbed onto her knees to keep her from buckling to the floor.
"Aaaaaagggghhh," she cried as she was carried on the raging currents of molten electricity within her. The man kept sucking her, prolonging the delights he gave her with his tongue until she nearly fainted. He helped her sit down on the cushions, and fell back limply, drifting in the golden tide of ecstasy. She had never had such a thrilling orgasm in her life, not since that night in Ohio. That was obviously the result of her traumatic experience, and the assumed guilt she had carried with her through her growing up years and into her marriage. She suddenly felt ashamed and remorseful to think that she had never given Reeve -- the man she loved so much -- the benefit of such a complete orgasm. Her infrequent climaxes were often no more than a shudder, never, ever anything like this. She felt reassured, but worried too. Could she ever be this satisfied, but her husband? Or would this taste of forbidden fruit -- making love with a stranger, a mere kid -- be the one exception to her usual sexual performance. Oh God, no! Please don't let that happen to me! She cried inwardly.
Then his lips were on hers again, and his tongue was probing her mouth -- the same tongue that had just fucked her desire-heated pussy to cumming so beautifully. Far from being spent and disinterested, Chris was becoming more turned on! She returned his kisses eagerly, loving the feel of his fully clothed body on her naked flesh. His hands piled her nipples with fervid pinches. He traced a path of circles and figure eights on her alabaster breasts with his tongue. His rigid cock strained to be released from the prison of his pants as she pressed into her crotch.
Then she whispered in his ear. "Now it's your turn to strip naked. No -- let me strip your clothes away so I can see your beautiful young cock!"
He got up then, and extended a muscular arm to her. She was trembling as she pulled his tee shirt out of his Levi's and slipped it over his broad torso. He had a beautiful chest. It was smooth, like Danny's and very well developed. His stomach was flat and drum tight, the way she like a man to be. (Reeve had that kind of stomach too, though too much drinking of late had caused the tiny threat of a paunch.)
She was grateful he wasn't wearing a belt. She tugged at the gripper snap, then unzipped the fly. The youth's long, rigid penis popped out like a Jack-in-the-box. She worked the jeans over his hips and down his muscular legs. He was already barefoot, having taken his shoes and socks off as soon as he got to the apartment. Chris eased the jeans over his feet and pushed them aside. She was kneeling directly in front of him, her face only inches away from his cock. His testicles were enormous. They were drawn up tightly, like two small, water-filled balloons. Only she knew that it wasn't water inside them, but hot, white sperm!
She looked up at him demurely. "Your wish is my command, master. I am here to serve your pleasure, sire!"
"Touch my cock." he said.
She reached forward with her slender hands and very lightly raked his cock with her long, painted nails. He drew his breath through his teeth. She let the tip of her finger circle the blood-engorged head. There was a shiny drop of clear fluid clinging precariously to the tip of the smooth flesh from the tiny slit at the end. She captured in on her finger and stuck the finger into her mouth, savoring the warm masculine taste deliciously.
"Geezus!" he cried out. "I can't wait any longer. I have to fuck you right now before I shoot off just standing here. I want to fuck my cock up inside your beautiful, tight little pussy!"
He knew his coarse language was exciting to her. He had initiated another sexual game for them to play: talking dirt.
"Do you want my cock in your cunt, Gypsy? Do you want to feel all of his big beautiful meat fucking up inside your sweet little pussy?
"Yes, oh yes!"
"Then tell me so. Tell me what you want me to do.
He was bending down now, pushing her back onto the pillows gently but firmly, hovering over her, his body brushing against hers.
"Tell me, Gypsy. Tell me what you want." he repeated more urgently.
"I ... I want you to spread my thighs apart. I want you to kneel down, with your knees between my legs ... "
"Yeah, yeah ... and then what?" he urged.
"Then I ... I want you to stick your huge, hot cock into my wet pussy! I want you to ram it into me hard ... to fuck me with it until ... "
She hesitated. "Until what? Say it!" he ordered.
" ... Until you explode inside me like a screaming rocket! ... until you fill my whole pussy with your sweet, creamy Cum!"
"Oh baby, you're going to get it. I'm going to screw that cock-eating cunt of yours until you cum all over it ... until my balls shoot their hot load and it gushes into that squishy sex cavern of yours and I fill you with my cock sauce! You've got the most beautiful pussy in the world, and it's my cum-hole! So eat it up, gypsy wench! Milk it, baby!"
With that he made a sudden thrust forward and the tight little pussy mouth suddenly popped over the pulsating head of his thick rod. Chris gave a short cry of discomfort, but she welcomed the invader, providing him with a slippery, cushioned thoroughfare straight into her velvety depths. The boy groaned with pleasure as he continued to fuck deeper and deeper up into the hot, buttery channel up between her widespread thighs.
Chris was feeling lewd, hot little sensations up inside her cunt walls that she had never felt before from being fucked. It was as though a whole new universe of pleasure had opened within her body. She couldn't believe the change in herself. So often before she had trouble even lubricating properly. Invariably Reeve would have to reach for the KY jelly, an act which made both of them feel a bit awkward. Though she tried desperately to "get with it," she was never able to feel much of anything inside her cuntal passage, despite the variety of maneuvers her handsome husband employed. But this was something else! It was all so shocking, so base -- making love with a young man whose name she didn't even know. But that's what made it so very exciting. No past, no future, no identity. Only the incredible now! And she was loving every minute of it.
She felt him skewering deeply up into her hotly quivering pussy-hole. She clutched his heavily throbbing hardness with the inner muscles of her cunt, bringing new pleasure to both of them. She sucked the rigid length of his cockflesh with her wetly squeezing pussy walls as tight as she could.
His body was streaming as he plowed into the honeyed furrow between her legs. She ate him with the wanton, hair-fringed little mouth between her legs. There was no way for her to escape the wild fucking he was giving her cunt, even if she had wanted to. He was too far gone, too consumed by the molten fire in his prick and his balls. He posted on her as though she were a mare in heat. And she was! Her whole body was alive and aching for fulfillment. Her thighs were clamped tightly around him; her fingers dug into the rock-hard flesh of his buttocks, pulling him deeper into her insatiably throbbing cunt.
She was moaning and gasping, her cries of pleasure mixed with his own rasping sounds of pure animalistic delight.
Suddenly it happened for both of them at almost the same moment. She bucked and churned beneath him, crying out in abandoned ecstasy as the torrent of sensation burst from her creaming pussy throughout her whole, nakedly jerking body. She was inundated by overlapping waves of pleasure that consumed her totally.
"My cunt's cumming ... ohh God! It's cuuuuuuummmmiiinng!" she cried, though it was all too apparent. While she was at the peak of her orgasm, she felt a wild, staccato burst from his cock as he filled her cunt to the brim with his hot, thick cum.
"Yeeesss! Oh, Yeeesss!" he shouted over and over again. "Yeessss, baby, give it to me!"
His body quaked violently as spurt after spurt of spermy semen shot into Chris's hotly spewing jism deep up into her greedily milking pussy. They clung to each other, their bodies drenched with sweat, relishing the exquisite pleasure they had given each other. They kissed each other affectionately as they lay there for a long while without speaking. No words were needed. Everything had been expressed.
Finally, the young stud got up and poured them each another glass of punch. Her mouth was dry, and it tasted very refreshing. Suddenly a look of anxiety came across her face. "What time is it?" she asked anxiously. The youth went to his desk and looked at the wrist watch that was lying there. "4:30 -- give or take a couple of hours." he grinned.
Chris shot up from the pillows and began gathering up her clothes. She reached into her bag for a brush and made a half-hearted attempt to get the tangles out of her hair. She looked worried.
"Hey, Gypsy, what's the rush?" he asked half seriously.
"I have to be somewhere by five. I have an appointment." She said, knowing that her appointment was with the oven! She was supposed to have put a roast in at four!
"Not this kind of appointment, I hope." he added, surveying her carefully.
She shot a look of half-hurt and half-anger to him. "Don't be ridiculous."
"I'm sorry." he apologized. "But you already lied to me, so I felt like I had to ask."
"What do you mean, I lied?" she bristled.
"You told me you were lousy in bed -- that you were a 'failure' in bed, as a matter of fact. Well, Gypsy, if that's being a failure, I only hope to God that you want to 'fail' like that every time you're with me! You are the most fantastic woman I've ever fucked!"
Chris became embarrassed again. Her thoughts were half there and half at the big house on Doheney Drive. She was afraid Reeve might get home early. She wanted the dinner to be special for him.
The boy embraced her tightly in his arms again.
"I really have to go." she insisted. "My car will turn into a pumpkin." She darted out from under his arms, leaving him standing there immobilized for a moment. She was halfway out the door when he called to her. "Hey, wait a minute, Gypsy. When will I see you again? What's your name? How can I get in touch with you?" he shouted.
She was bolting down the stairs and he sprinted after her. Christ! he thought to himself, she must have won the gold medal in the 100 yard dash!
He caught up with her as she was getting into the sports car. "Please give me a name, a number, anything." he begged. "You can't just pop into my life then exit like this. I've got to see you again."
She looked at him with an expression of painfully mixed emotions. She had already switched on the ignition and was revving the engine. "I'd like to see you again. I just don't know. Believe me, I loved every single moment. You've made me feel like a real woman -- something I haven't really felt in the same way before. It helps solve some problems, but strangely enough, it creates other ones."
He started to protest.
"Don't ask questions. Please, I have to go, really," And with that she pulled away from the curb, leaving her bewildered young lover standing in her wake. She looked in her rear view mirror, fresh tears beginning to seep from her eyes. He was cupping his hands around his mouth, shouting to her. "Come back! Come back, Gypsy ... come back!"
Chapter Four
Reeve had been sitting at his favorite corner booth in the dimly lit restaurant, sipping on his second martini, when Angelo, Bruno's maitre d', approached him.
"Excuse me, Mr. Richards. There is a very demanding young lady here to see you. She insists that you are here, and I cannot persuade her to leave." Angelo said very tactfully. "Her name is Miss Jerome."
"That broad!" Reeve said, smacking his forehead with his hand. "How the hell did she know I was here? If Margo ... " His sentence was cut short by the appearance of a stunning redhead wearing a hot pink tee shirt that was two sizes too small and a jeans miniskirt that revealed most of her slender, well-shaped legs. She wore an expensive Concho belt, inset with silver, turquoise and coral. She had a pair of hand-made leather platform sandals on her feet. Even from across the table he could smell her musky perfume. She spoke with a kind of smokey voice that had a touch of Southern accent to it.
"Mr. Richards, I'm Jeannie Jerome. May I speak to you privately for a moment?"
She was steamed all right. Her deep blue eyes gleamed like sapphires through the dim atmosphere, and she looked at him so directly that he momentarily had to look down at his glass, but not before he had taken in her lush, large breasts with their pointed nipples showing under the revealing tee shirt. It was obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra. It was obvious, too, that she didn't need one. She was a living knockout!
Reeve rose slightly from his seat and made a gesture toward the booth with his arm. "Please sit down, Miss Jerome," he said. She slid into the booth, opposite Reeve.
"May I buy you a drink, Miss Jerome?" he said with feigned politeness.
"Thank you, no," she declined.
"Please, Miss Jerome. I don't like to drink alone unless I am alone. What would you have ... some Dubonnet on the rocks? ... a daiquiri? ... a Shirley Temple?"
"A Beefeater martini, straight up, with a twist," she said matter-of-factly to Angelo. He nodded, left a menu discreetly on the edge of the table and disappeared into the dimness.
"Now, Miss Jerome, I understand that you are not pleased with things at Phantasmix. It surely can't be your contract, can it? I was informed that there were several exhausting meetings between your manager and my head scout, Shane Willis, before all details were finally settled."
"The contract is fine, Mr. Richards. It's the jacket title, and the whole way in which the promotion is being oriented that makes me furious. Have you seen it?"
Reeve had. In fact, it was his idea. But he had only heard about Jeannie Jerome from an enthusiastic Shane. He hadn't even seen a picture of her. But he was chicken -- he lied. "Eh, no, no, I haven't as yet. You were just recently signed with us. We don't sign many female vocalists; they're hard to sell."
"So that's why you feel you have to use a blatantly sexist approach, I suppose? Hot Melons -- I mean, really, Mr. Richards, I thought I was signing a recording contract, not a contract to appear as a Playboy centerfold!"
"I'm sorry if you're offended, Miss Jerome, but the fact is that very few chick singers are selling these days. You'll have to admit that you haven't got a name like Judy Collins, Helen Reddy or Joni Mitchell -- not yet. Nor is your name a household word in the boonies like the names of Olivia Newton John or Tanya Tucker! Our company is in business to make money, not to go broke taking chances on every dame who can hold a microphone in her hand. You're damned lucky to be signed with Phantasmix, if you'll allow me to say so!"
"And you're damned lucky to have Jeannie Jerome! I don't have to take this chauvinist crap from you or anybody else. I'm not just a 'dame who can hold a microphone', and you'll find that out soon enough, Mr. Big Deal! You can take your contract and shove it -- I'm phoning my manager and telling him the deal is off as of now!"
She got up from the booth, her eyes blazing. Reeve thought she was the most exciting woman he had ever met. She was igniting fires all over his body without even touching him. He loved this kind of confrontation with a beautiful woman. That kind of anger could only come from a female whose sexuality dominated her other emotions. Fighting was tantamount to making love. He knew he wanted her from the moment she walked up to the table. He wanted to feel his hot, throbbing cock fuck deeply up into her warm, tight cunt. He had to have her!
Reeve got up just as quickly and grabbed hold of her wrist before she could get away. He held her in a vise-like grip, and the sleeve of his jacket brushed against one of her full, sensuous breasts. His cock was swollen into hardness against his leg.
"Wait a minute. Please." he pleaded, looking into her eyes. A thousand volts of electricity passed between them. There was a hell of a lot more than anger in those baby blues! "Let's go somewhere else and talk about this calmly. I'm sure we can work things out," he pleaded.
"You've said enough already, Mr. Richards. Now please let go of my wrist. You're hurting me!"
Reeve suddenly blew his cool. All the anger and rejection he felt towards Chris in those many deflating moments of frustration and disappointment welled up in him and transferred itself to this wild-eyed sex-pot in front of him. At that moment he hated all women.
Reeve held her wrist even tighter. "Listen, baby," he hissed at her, "don't give me that high and mighty bullshit! Who do you think you are, the Virgin Mary? Look at yourself, with those jugs stuffed into a tee shirt that was made for an eleven year old! I think "HOT MELONS" is right on! And that skin-tight li'l ol' miniskirt you're wearing, which leaves very, very little to the imagination -- what kind of message is that supposed to give out, except the obvious one? It's walking sexpots like you who are always screaming 'male chauvinist pig' at every guy who gives you the eye. But you'd be the first one to scream 'unfair!' if the expected response wasn't forthcoming!"
Reeve noticed that the restaurant was becoming quite crowded, and several heads were turned in their direction.
"Let's get out of here." he ordered, pulling her ahead of him. She obeyed without another word, like a submissive child. Reeve threw' a five on the table and followed close on her heels.
What followed was an incredible sequence of events, most of which took place in a Glendale motel!
Jeannie was all that he had expected -- and more. The boldness of this girl was something he had never confronted before. Most women he knew were either girlish, shy, and hung up, like Chris, or prick-teasing bitches who delivered a lot less than they promised. Jeannie didn't operate by either of those standards -- or, sub-standards -- of female behavior. Her aggressiveness excited him tremendously. She was unabashed in her desire. She loved everything about sex, and didn't pull any of that hard-to-get crap.
There were brief moments of anxiety for him, when he thought about Chris. But all such moments were fleeting, because he was swept away in a torrent of sensuality that totally consumed him, leaving nothing but the urgent need for fulfillment with this creature who was almost too beautiful and seductive to be true.
They fucked like bunnies, getting it on from the moment the motel door slammed shut behind them ...
Reeve's heart was pounding in his chest; a light film of perspiration broke out on his forehead. The tips of his fingers began to grow cold. He couldn't take his eyes off her. She radiated sensuality and a promise of wild excitement; the kind of excitement that he was able to feel only in his most potent sexual fantasies, since Chris had never been able to fulfill his expectations. His body was trembling with desire, his long cock throbbed excitedly. He wanted to fuck this beautiful sexpot in a way he had never fucked a woman before.
She turned to him, her eyes dancing, her lips parted invitingly.
The deep, unspoken passion forged them together like links of a chain. They began to move slowly towards each other, drawn hypnotically by the strength of their hot needs. They were almost touching. This was the point of no return for both of them. Reeve knew that he was risking his marriage; Jeannie knew that she might be risking her career, but their attraction to each other was stronger than their doubts or fears. Nothing mattered but the moment.
With a deep sigh, Reeve suddenly reached out and grabbed her by her soft, graceful shoulders which were so well delineated by the tight pink tee shirt. Invisible sparks flew from their bodies as they clutched in a passionate, urgent embrace. He parted the soft and pliant lips with his hungry tongue and explored the sweet warmth of her tender mouth. She opened her mouth wantonly then, giving him full access to her oral cavern. Their tongues crisscrossed, swabbing each other in hot, sticky caresses. This sex duel generated an implacable carnal excitement in him, and he Frenched her harshly, almost cruelly, relishing the sensations it generated in his lust-swollen loins. She was breathing heavily, making little groaning noises, pressing her voluptuous body as tightly to him as she possibly could. She returned his kisses with equal fervor, reveling in the feeling of his lean, hard body. She shuddered as his warm, wet lips began to kiss her neck, her face, her bare upper arms. He buried his .face in her fragrant red mane, then he stuck his hot tongue into her small, pink ear, evoking a cry of pleasure from her.
She forced her hand between their two bodies, searching frantically for the massively throbbing bulge of his thick, rigid penis. With gentle but feverish fingers she began to massage it skillfully, feeling the long shaft and thick, bulbous head straining with desire beneath the fabric of his trousers. Moments later, her other hand slid down and began weighing and playing with his lust-swollen testicles through his pants.
Joining the game, Reeve put his hand under her flowing red hair and let his fingers slide onto her soft, warm flesh under her tee shirt. He caressed the area below the nape of her neck, just above the shoulder blades, where he knew she would be highly sensitive. Caresses there always produced erotic sensations in women -- that he knew. Again she shuddered and moaned responsively. Reeve felt his hot need for her grow even stronger as he caressed the satiny skin on her back. Then he moved his hands around to cup the softly fleshed orbs of her large firm breasts.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmm ... " she cooed, as he gently massaged the resilient spheres. His fingers brushed lightly over the tips, and they stiffened even further under his touch.
Without warning, Jeannie unzipped the trousers of his pants and wormed her fingers through the opening of his fly and into his shorts. She grasped the heated hardness and withdrew it, as though she were handling a priceless work of art. She began to tease the hotly swollen head with her fingers, sending shudders of wanton excitement through Reeve's body.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhh." he gasped, as she skillfully rolled the thick, pulsing flesh between her fingers.
With equal adeptness, Reeve slipped his hand under the girl's miniskirt and into the tight elastic crotch band of her panties. Quickly his hand found the moistly hot crevice up between her legs, and his fingers began to explore the warm layers of flesh nestled in the curling strands of pubic hair. He traced the entire length of the wet furrow, from the quivering bud of her clitoris at the top to the softly inviting entrance of her vagina below. He slipped the tip of his outstretched middle finger into the warm passage, gently widening the opening, moving deeper and deeper. She accompanied his movements with loud moans of excitement.
Consumed with wild desire as she felt his finger slipping in and out of her vaginal sheath, Jeannie suddenly bit his earlobe, sending a searing flash of pain through him. Momentarily he felt a flare up of anger at her action, but he quickly realized that the pain was wildly exciting and it actually seemed to increase his hot hunger for her voluptuous young body. Feeling a new surge of lust consume him, he quickly rammed his finger to the hilt -- all the way into the hotly clasping depths of her pussy.
"Oooooohhhh, God ... " she groaned, "that's just the way I like it!"
Only in his wildest fantasies had Reeve ever imagined he would find a woman like this! Here was someone who didn't shrink away from brazen sexual contact. She actually craved it! She returned his advances with an ardor and passion that stimulated him beyond anything he had ever known possible. She began to twist her hips against his finger, opening her pussy as wide as possible to admit him entrance, all the while stroking and massaging his huge, iron-hard cock and balls. Reeve surrendered completely to the torrid feelings that washed over him.
They kissed again, their tongues mingling shamelessly as they openly caressed each other's instruments. Unable to wait any longer, Reeve pulled his hands free and began quickly to remove her clothes. He slipped the tee shirt over her head, fully exposing the large, firmly rounded breasts. How incredibly appealing she was, he thought, standing there in her tight miniskirt and Concho belt, her naked breasts rising and falling with the tides of her passion.
Smiling at his undisguised look of admiration, Jeannie quickly slipped off his tie and undid his shirt, pulling it off and throwing it on the motel dresser, next to her tee shirt. She ran her hands over the curling hair of his chest, and across the rippling, wavy muscles of his stomach.
"Nice." she said, her eyes bright with desire.
Slowly she unhitched her wide belt and let it drop to the floor, then unbuckled her sandals and kicked them off. Without them, she was three inches shorter, which made her seem doll-like. She unzipped her miniskirt and lowered it very slowly over her hips. Gracefully, she stepped out of the short garment and put it with the other clothing on the dresser. Seeing her standing there in only her sheer, black panties, Reeve suddenly found it hard to breathe. His cock, already swollen with excitement, stiffened even more, and for one wildly improbable moment he thought he would cum just from looking at her. Her eyes never left his face as, with a lascivious smile, she slipped out of her panties, exposing the inviting triangle of softly curling cunt hair between her legs.
Then she began to unbuckle his belt. He stood there, trembling like a stallion as Jeannie removed his pants and undershorts. In a few moments, he was completely divested of clothes and she gazed admiringly at his nakedly powerful body.
"You're beautiful," she said, her voice husky with desire.
"You are too ... " he replied, his eyes roaming every lush curve, every inviting crevice of her voluptuous young curves.
She moved into him, her hands greedily clasping his hard body as she ran her hands over his shoulders, his hips and thighs before grasping the huge, hotly pulsating shaft of flesh between his legs. Then she grabbed his distended balls and tickled, massaged and squeezed them in her fingers.
"Oh, I want you, Reeve!" she cried. "Please, please fuck me now!"
Quickly she backed up towards the king-sized bed, pulling him along with her by his rigid cock. She lay back, then scooted up towards the headboard, spreading her gorgeous legs in an open invitation for him to shove his hot prick into her cunt. Reeve knelt between her widespread legs without hesitation, placing his massively throbbing cock against the warmly moistened lips of her cunt. Slowly, savoring every hot shiver of delight that ran through him. he pushed his lust-engorged penis into the heatedly pulsating vaginal slit, feeling the warm hot cunt flesh sliding like hotly flowing jello over the head of his cock and then slowly nibbling down his fleshy staff.
Jeannie closed her eyes and groaned in ecstasy. "Ooooooooooohhhhh ... you feel so good. Soooooooo gooooooooood!"
With one smooth thrust, Reeve slid deeply into her; deeper, deeper, deeper up into her belly until finally the swollen cockhead brushed against the tip of her spongy cervix far up inside. Arching perfectly over her, with most of his weight on his knees and elbows, he began to fuck slowly in and out of her hotly clasping cunt, with his rock-hard cock moving snugly against the tightly ensheathing walls of her pussy. God, he thought with amazement, how he loved to feel the sensitive coronal ridge of his cockhead slipping up and down her tight little cunt! He pulled out so that only the tip was concealed in the excitedly throbbing little furrow, then, with a groan, he plunged in again deeply as the girl mewled and writhed beneath him in wild, ecstatic pleasure. He repeated this over and over, increasing his tempo as he went. Jeannie began to move her pelvis up and down in perfect rhythm with his motions, her hot vaginal walls clasping hungrily at his rhythmically pumping rod. She felt her muscles relaxing and her pussy opening like a flowering lotus to receive his huge pole of rigid flesh, as she slowly -- almost as if in slow motion -- wrapped her long slender legs around his naked buttocks.
Reeve was experiencing an intense new kind of freedom that was carrying him to realms of sensuality he had never known before! His mind churned with a thousand whirlwind thoughts.
"I'm actually screwing a fabulously beautiful woman who I just met a couple of hours ago! God! I'd never think of doing this under any circumstances! But it feels so good! It's just so goddamned exciting, so great, I just don't give a shit! I'd fuck her any place, any time of the day or night! I've had to eat crow with Chris, to hold back, to take second best or nothing at all. Poor Chris, poor screwed-up little frigid bitch of a wife! I always had to treat her like a fragile figurine, like a paper doll, and it took a lot out of me. But with this wild sex machine under me, trying her best to out-fuck me, I'm a man again! I feel like the biggest stud that ever rolled down the pike. I'm fucking ten feet tall!
He felt exuberant, triumphant, and he drove his huge, heatedly throbbing cock into her hot, receptive little cunt with even greater sexual abandon.
"Oh, baby, I'm going to fuck your tight little pussy like it's never been fucked in its whole life, FUCK it!"
"Yesssssss! Fuck it!" she cried, urging him on. 'Tuck it hard, baby, FUCK IT HARD!"
Every muscle in Reeve's body moved with precision, as his sperm-bloated balls spanked the ripe, rosy ass-cheeks of his eager partner each time he slammed his cock into her pussy. They were both gasping and panting with sexual delirium, oblivious of everything but the fantastic sensations in their genitals as they gripped each other's bodies tightly and raked each other's heated flesh in a frenzied expression of lustful need for ecstatic release. The only thing that mattered at that moment, as far as Reeve was concerned, was fucking this hotly squirming sexpot, fucking her wonderfully versatile pussy, and bringing them both to an explosive climax at the same time. He pumped his pelvis violently, his enormous prick driving into her with incredible force and hardness.
He screwed her without mercy, his hard muscular buttocks like boulders, his long thick cock swollen to the bursting point, slicing into her mercilessly.
She was screaming like a banshee, reveling in the brutal strokes she received. This was just how she liked it! The harder he drove into her, the more she wanted! She felt free and totally alive! She loved the feeling of his iron-hard prick tearing at her, plunging along the widening, shuddering walls of her hotly impatient pussy. She moaned with delight as he began to suck and bite her nipples, piercing her with little sparks of pleasure.
"Yeeeeeeeeessss! Ooooooooohhh, geezus, yeeeeeeesss!" she cried. "Cock me, baby. Cock me! Fill my hot pussy with your beautiful cum!"
Reeve was charged to the full extent of his manhood now. He felt he was at last experiencing the kind of charge that he had been looking for all his life, at least, unconsciously looking for. He smote her like a god of old, ramming his driving cock into her wetly pulsing vagina, that opened greedily to receive all of his gift. He felt the restless seed begin to surge and gather in his loins. His lust-swollen testicles, slapping at her soft, puckered little anal mouth began to beg to be delivered of their white hot cum, and he redoubled his efforts to make her cum with him.
Jeannie picked up on the signal, and she humped back at him with greater ferocity. The throbbing in her cuntal sheath increased, as rhapsodic waves of pleasure shot through her craving loins with tingles of wanton delight. She ground her naked young body up against his rigidly long shaft and cried out in pleasure as the first powerful surges of her orgasm hit her.
"I'm cuuuuuuuuuummmiinnngggg!" she screamed, ''Aaaaaaaagggghhh! Aaaaaaggghh!''
Reeve burst inside her, racked by the wildly thrilling orgasm that sent electric shocks of indescribable pleasure throughout his body. He gasped and groaned and grunted as his massively pulsating cock spewed spurt after spurt of hotly spewing semen deep up into her wetly clasping cunt.
Jeannie's belly was flooded with a warmly exciting wetness which spread its thrilling heat throughout her body, as her long, slender legs and pelvis thrashed wildly in the air. Her own hot cuntal juices flowed freely as she was tossed crazily about on a turbulent ocean of joy, consumed by the ecstasy of orgasm, floating on wave after wave of pure pleasure. She was lost in a universe of creamy whiteness as Reeve's hot male essence spurted deeply into her vaginal cave, setting off new and even more powerful explosions of sensuality.
Releasing himself fully, ejaculating wantonly into this voluptuous, exciting woman that he had met only a short time ago gave Reeve an incredible sense of power and erotic freedom that he had always denied himself. He poured his thick stream of cum into her hotly milking pussy in a manner never possible with his young wife. His eyes were glazed as he emptied himself triumphantly, knowing as he did so that he had never before enjoyed such a total, uninhibited, absolutely fantastic release.
"Oooooouuuuuggggghhh." he groaned as the last drop of his manly essence drained into her.
Still he kept pumping her, and she returned his movements, until he felt his spent cock begin to grow flaccid inside her. They lay there for a long while, until their breathing had returned to normal. They looked at each other and grinned. They began to kiss each other, softly at first, then with renewed sexual interest. His cock began to swell inside her again. Before long they were fucking like minks, fucking their way to another heated and thrilling climax. Before they parted, they had fucked each other silly several more times, and sucked each other off more than once. It was one uninterrupted orgy of fucking and sucking, and Reeve learned that he was one hell of a stud after all! But then, it took one hell of a woman to bring it out of him.
At one point he called Chris to tell her he would be home later than usual, and not to put the roast in until he got there. But she was out, and he said the hell with her to himself and hung up.
Finally, it was seven o'clock. Reluctantly, they left the motel and Jeannie dropped him off at his car. After one more long embrace, Reeve gunned the Pantera in the direction of Doheney Drive.
Chapter Five
Chris had rushed home frantically, getting a speeding ticket from one of LA's Finest. Shakily she put the roast in the oven and turned it fifty degrees higher than it should be cooked at. She took another shower and washed her hair again, afraid that Reeve would be able to detect the young boy's smell on her. Then she hid the purchases in the back of her closet and burned the bags and sales slips in the incinerator. She put fresh flowers on the table and made one of Reeve's favorite salads. Then she put on a long "at home" dress, the red one that Reeve particularly liked.
She had thought of telling him what had happened, of confessing everything to him -- she wanted to share her sexual self-discovery with him. Reeve was almost a father figure, though he was only five years older than she. Many times he had held her in his arms, comforting her when the ghosts of her past would gather in her mind, or when she felt troubled and depressed about things -- as she often did. Her sexual immaturity affected every other area of her life, and kept her from realizing herself fully as a woman.
Now, sitting in the well-appointed living room, watching television and waiting for her handsome husband to come home, she knew that she would have to bear the burden of her extramarital escapade herself, that she probably would never be able to tell him.
She was consumed by conflicting feelings. She felt deeply guilty about the afternoon with the sensitive musician, but thinking about him and the exciting hours they shared together, also sent shivers down her spine. She knew she had no right to such thoughts. She hoped that Reeve's warm, loving arms could wipe away this sudden madness. She was anxious for him to come home. She needed to see him, needed reassurance that everything was still all right between them. After all, he was very angry and frustrated when he left for work. So was she. Neither of them knew how the other was feeling. But she badly wanted to make it up to him for all those moments of frustration and less than total enjoyment. Maybe tonight would be the night!
But as the hours ticked away, Chris realized that Reeve was not coming home at his usual time. Six o'clock passed, then seven, and he hadn't even phoned to say he would be late. The thought that perhaps he had phoned earlier jarred her, but it was somewhat reassuring, too.
Chris started to feel very anxious as the minutes ticked by and there was no sign of her husband. She became intensely resentful, as if his lateness was a way for him to torment her even further. She inhaled deeply on her cigarette and began pacing about the smart, modern furnishings of their house, wondering where he was. At the next instant, she was thinking of the musician, and another surging wave of desire passed through her. She really liked him. He was so sweet, and funny and sensitive and sexy. He had done a lot for her; he'd done in a few short hours what a psychiatrist might take years to accomplish: he had -- at least, partially -- freed her from some of the sexual chains she had carried for so long; he had freed her latent sexuality. Would she be able to blossom into full sexual womanhood with her own husband, who was not a stranger?
Suddenly she heard the Pantera pull into the driveway. Her body tensed, her heart beat faster. She was frightened and unsure of what she would say to him.
Reeve barely looked at her as he breezed into the house. "Sorry I'm late." he said insincerely. "I phoned you this afternoon, but you were out."
"Oh, what time was that?" she asked anxiously.
"Four, maybe five o'clock."
"I went shopping. Just lost track of time, I suppose."
"Find anything interesting?" he asked disinterestedly, pouring himself a drink. He didn't offer her one because she usually declined.
"Not really. Could I have one, too, please?" she asked anxiously. She'd lied about the purchases, not because she didn't want him to know how much she had spent. They had plenty of money for their needs, and he was very generous with her. No, she lied because she didn't want to have to explain where she had gone. She might get rattled, and that could lead her to a painful confession. This was definitely not the time. He was offhanded, remote. Chris sensed that he was still angry, or that there was something else that made him act the way he did.
They sat there making small talk while they sipped their drinks. He talked about some of the problems at the office; he asked how her day had gone. He read the paper, and from time to time, would comment on some news item, or swear at the decline of one of their stocks. There was no communication between them, no warmth, no joy. They ate dinner in uncomfortable silence, each aware of the other's embarrassment; each diverted by feelings of guilt, anger and anxiety -- not to mention the twinges of lust generated by memories of the exciting encounters they had each had that afternoon with people they had just met. If they could have shared each other's experiences as dispassionate observers watching an instant replay, they might have found the whole scene very funny. But of course, they both had something to hide, not realizing that the sins of one of them cancelled out the sins of the other. That night, as they lay in bed together, Chris made an attempt to be affectionate, in hopes that Reeve would be moved to initiate some kind of love making between them, but he just kissed her lightly on the forehead, and then turned his back to her saying he was wiped out. In moments, he was asleep, leaving her to cry softly into her pillow. She felt lonely and confused, unable to sort her thoughts out clearly. She was miserable.
Reeve overslept, leaving him no time for breakfast. He seemed preoccupied, anxious to get out of the house. He kissed her on the cheek as she stood leaning against the kitchen counter. Then he headed for the door.
"Oh, I almost forgot," he said hastily, "I've got a dinner meeting and a bull session tonight with some guys from a small company we're negotiating to buy. I'll be home late. Why don't you call one of your girl friends and have dinner together and go to a flick or something? You've been pretty lax about keeping the old school ties going, don't you think?"
"I suppose I have. Maybe I'll do that ... maybe I'll go see a friend." she said softly. "Hope your meeting is successful."
"I'm certain it will be," he smiled. "Bye bye."
And he was out the door, tearing out of the garage and down the broad street.
Chris stood there for a moment, that awful knot of anxiety rising in her chest again. He hadn't mentioned anything about negotiations with another company before. Is it possible that he's having ... an affair? she thought suddenly. The idea loomed up in her mind with terrifying reality. She tried to dismiss the thought, reasoning that she was just projecting her own guilt. Still, Reeve had been unusually aloof. He didn't seem angry, just distant. That wasn't like him, really. They had had so many disappointing experiences in bed before, and he might be angry for a while, but he would always phone her from the office sometime during the day and they would find some reason to laugh about something and the unpleasantness would be swept discreetly under the carpet.
She had sensed that he was lying, that there was another reason why he wouldn't be home until late. Can he be cheating on me? Maybe he's finally given up hopes of bringing me around!
She poured herself another cup of coffee, had several more cigarettes and tried to sort out her thoughts. She was as nervous as a cat. Finally, she thumbed through her list of names and addresses and reached for the phone. She talked to several friends whom she hadn't seen for several weeks. It helped. She even arranged to have lunch with one of them, a girl she had been close to at UCLA. They were to meet at the health club she belonged to for a good workout, a sauna and a massage, then have lunch at The Daisy. Chris decided to wear another of her new ensembles. She could tell Reeve that she purchased the things that day, while shopping with her friend. Perfect!
She stamped out her cigarette and got up to get dressed.
Chapter Six
When Reeve got to his office he found his secretary, Margo, already hard at work. She looked up at him anxiously.
"Oh, Reeve," she said, "I'm really sorry about that Jeannie Jerome thing. She didn't get the information from me, I can assure you. Sweet talked one of the office boys into letting her know where you were having lunch. Did she hassle you a lot?"
Reeve gave her a reassuring smile. "We worked it out," he said enigmatically.
"I was worried when you didn't come back to the office and didn't phone. I knew how uptight you were when you left," she added, hinting for an explanation. "The flack was flying around here."
"I apologize, Margo. I should have let you know. But I was just up to here with it, you know? So I spent the rest of the afternoon swatting golf balls and lying by the pool. My own little busman's holiday," he lied. "Eh, did my wife call yesterday afternoon?"
"Why no, boss. Is everything okay between you two?"
"Oh, sure. Sure. Peaches and cream."
"She's a doll."
"Right. Now, if you'll excuse me, Margo, I have a couple of important calls to make. I'll buzz you in a few minutes. We've got a wagon load of work this morning."
As soon as Margo had gone, Reeve reached for the phone and dialed the number Jeannie had given him. It was only nine thirty; she might be asleep. But he couldn't wait any longer. His thoughts had been full of her all morning. Whatever anxiety or tension he might have felt was overridden by the intense desire to fuck her again, to touch her, to feel once more the pounding excitement that had roared through his body the day before, releasing feelings he hadn't known were possible.
"Hello?" she said finally, after several interminable rings of the phone. Her voice was husky with sleep. Just hearing her made a surge of excitement go through him. He imagined her lying in bed naked, her voluptuous body sprawled seductively on the backdrop of cool sheets. He wanted to be with her right at that moment.
"Good morning, you gorgeous hunk of woman. This is Reeve Richards, President of the Jeannie Jerome Fan Club and Number One Gung-Ho Admirer."
"Would you repeat that, please sir?" she teased, making an effort to wake up. "It listens so well."
"I've got to see you today, Jeannie. I can't get away until four or so, but I've arranged to be your faithful companion for the whole evening, if you're agreeable to dinner and some other entertainment of your choice ... "
"You mean, the kind of entertainment such as took place yesterday afternoon?" she said tauntingly. "With my wet little pussy as star attraction?"
His cock was already beginning to stiffen in his pants. He felt drawn more and more to her. He wanted her, wanted to fuck the living daylights out of her!
"That's sort of what I had in mind -- if that's okay with you."
"Sounds fantastic. I can hardly wait," she enthused. "Let me give you my address."
Reeve wrote down the address, and her directions.
"It's in raunchy old Venice. Have you been there before?" she asked.
"Only once or twice."
"Slumming, eh?" she teased.
Something about the word "Venice" rang a distant bell. Then it hit him -- the kid in the clipping. He was playing one of the clubs there.
"Hey, Jeannie, I just flashed on something," he said. "I've got to catch an act there -- some hot kid who was highly recommended by Shane as a 'must see.' We'll have dinner and then hear the first set, or vice versa. Whatever comes naturally."
"We already know what that is, honey," she said in a low, sexy voice. "By the way, what's the kid's name? Maybe I know him."
Reeve reached for his wallet and took the clipping out. "Jeremy Stokes. Does that ring a bell?"
Jeannie gave out a whoop over the phone. "Ring a bell? He's like my kid brother! He's literally the boy next door! Fantastic talent, just the best, most unique guy in the world. A really fine composer, too.
"Super. I'll be panting at your door by five."
"I'll be waiting with baited breath ... " she whispered, then she hung up. It took several minutes before the pulsing mound in his groin became a passive worm of flesh again.
Jeannie was wide awake when she hung up the phone. She wanted to rush over to Jeremy's apartment and tell him the good news. But she decided against it. For one thing, she knew he'd be sound asleep. He never went to bed before three or four because he'd get an energy high from playing the gig and it took a while to come down. She was the same way -- most performers were. But she was also very superstitious about crossing chickens before they were hatched. What if Jeremy got uptight about having a big recording exec in the audience and had an off performance? What, if by some wild stretch of the imagination, Reeve didn't dig him all that much? No, she would say nothing. Let nature take its course.
Jeannie's thoughts fixed on Reeve again. She had been drawn to him immediately, as he was to her. That kind of attraction is all too obvious. She was pretty blas� about men as a rule, but Reeve was definitely in a class by himself. She pictured his thick shock of dark blonde hair, his big, melting brown eyes and his full, sensuous lips. He had the kind of body she really dug, too: tall, trim and well-developed. He looked like a movie star, though he wasn't the pretty-boy type at all -- she couldn't stand those. But there was so much more than good looks and a divine body about him. He had warmth, and intelligence and polish. He seemed to exude a solid masculinity combined with an appealing sensitivity. Yet there was an aggressiveness, a self-confidence that let you know right away this man was nobody you'd want to cross. He was the kind of man who knew what he wanted -- and he usually got it. You couldn't be head of a company like Phantasmix at 28 and be a dummy. The recording business was a dog-eat-dog, throat-cutting scene, and it took a lot of moxie to simply hang in there!
In seeing him, she was violating Jeannie's Rule No. One: Never go out with a married man! She had learned the hard way, in a disastrous affair a couple of years ago. She wondered about his wife -- what was she like, and did she love him very much? Was she good in bed? Jeannie felt a sharp twinge of jealousy, and she reminded herself again that she was treading in deep water. This was bad, she thought, letting herself get involved with Reeve. Usually she could go to bed with men just for the sheer physical pleasure it provided her. She didn't feel obliged to live by a moral code established in the Victorian era! She loved to ball, that's all there was to it. And like most of the men she slept with, she could do it without getting emotionally involved. But she knew deep down that Reeve was different. She was dangerously close to falling in love with him, and that would be disastrous! She had to get hold of herself somehow.
Chris was in pretty good spirits when she said goodbye to her girlfriend as they walked out into the bright May sun after a long, chatty lunch at The Daisy. She had had a wonderful time, talking over old times and exchanging a hundred bits of girl talk. She couldn't go home -- there was nothing to go home to, at least, not for a long while. She knew what she wanted to do. All morning she had thought of the exciting youth, despite her attempts to put him out of her mind. She had made a vow not to see him again, to let yesterday afternoon become a lone memory in her private scrap book of the mind. But she found herself driving towards Venice, afraid to see him, yet afraid that he might not be at home.
There were no parking spots on his block, so she drove around until she found one about a block and a half away.
She almost ran to his house. By the time she reached the apartment, she was out of breath. She hesitated for a moment, then knocked softly.
The young man had a momentary look of surprise, then his face broke into a wide grin. "Gypsy! You came back! You came back!" he shouted, clasping her in his arms and hugging her tightly to him. She clung to him, needing him, feeling so wonderful, so reassured. He kissed her tenderly at first, then passionately, and she found that yesterday wasn't just a once-in-a lifetime fluke; she was getting all turned on again. The juices in her pussy were flowing and her clitoris throbbed with desire.
He pulled her inside and closed the door. "I wasn't going to come back," she said excitedly, "but I couldn't help it ... I had to."
"Oh my gypsy, my sweet gypsy," he said over and over again. Then he suddenly drew back from her. "I didn't sleep at all last night. I couldn't get you out of my head. So you know what I did? I wrote a song about you. Want to hear it?"
"A song about me?" Chris was touched and flattered. "Yes! Please sing it to me."
He motioned for her to sit down on the pillows and he took his guitar and positioned himself on the high stool. "It's called, 'A Girl Called Gypsy.' "
He started to sing in a clear, other-worldly kind of voice which was different from any other voice she had heard:
"I met a girl with raven hair, eyes like a cat and face so fair.
I asked her name, she said to me:
No names -- just call me Gypsy.
She read my palm and spun my head, then let me love her in my bed.
She cast her magic spell on me --My fate lies in your hands, Gypsy.
She pressed her body close to mine and I felt like a god; divine.
She filled me with her gypsy fire;
I satisfied her heart's desire.
Then off she ran, away from me.
Come back!, I cried, Come back, Gypsy.
You stole my heart, don't run away --I fell in love with you today ... "
Neither of them said a word when he finished the song. Chris was speechless, and she felt the tears begin to well up in her eyes. Now there was something else to feel guilty about: his declaration of love. It was ridiculous, of course. He was very young. It was puppy love. But she was well aware how seriously affecting that kind of crush could be. He wasn't a frivolous kid. In some ways, he was more mature than she was. And there she was, a married woman, irresponsibly involving him in an affair that could go nowhere for either of them. He would be crushed if she told him that she was married. Yet it wasn't fair to delude him any longer.
He noticed that she was crying, and he came over to her and put his arms on her shoulders. "Hey, Gypsy, was the song that bad?" he teased, trying to make her smile. But she started to cry in earnest then.
"It was beautiful. I've never heard anyone who sang and played as beautifully as you do. And you're sweet and charming and a fantastic lover but ... "
"But what?" he asked earnestly.
"But you can't mean what you say in the lyrics about me," she sobbed.
"I can and I do. I'm crazy about you, Gypsy. Don't you believe in love at first sight? I do."
"Yes, but no -- you can't because ... because I'm not free to be loved by you or anyone else. I'm ... "
"You're what?"
"All right. You want to know my name? It's Chris, Chris Richards. I'm married. My husband is president of a record company. That's why I told you all that fortune telling bullshit about a contract in your future, because I think you're a fantastic talent, and I know my husband would want to sign you if he heard you."
"Your husband, eh? Well fuck your husband, lady. And fuck you, too! I don't need your goddamned charity! What the hell did you think you were doing, play acting with me like that, toying with me just to get your rocks off with a strange piece of meat! What's the matter, doesn't your old man give it to you enough? Or is he too busy being a big deal?"
Chris was shaking with emotion. She had never expected to see this side of the sensitive youth. He was like a different person, like a crazed beast in the full throes of frustration. She had thought that he might be hurt, of course, and maybe angry too. But he was a Dr. Jekyll turning into a Mr. Hyde before her eyes. She was suddenly very afraid of him.
"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I had no idea things would turn out like this. I really do like you, and I didn't want anyone to get hurt and ... "
"Shut up! I can't stand bad lyrics!"
Chris got up and headed for the door. In an instant he grabbed her roughly by the arm and whirled her around. "Oh no you don't, gypsy bitch! You're not getting off that easy. You like games, so let's play games. My way, with my rules."
He pulled her to him and kissed her brutally on the lips, raking his teeth against her soft flesh and biting her lower lip until it bled.
"Owwwwwgghhhhhh!" she cried out as she felt the warm salty liquid on her taste buds.
"That's nothing, baby, nothing compared to what you're going to get!" He tore at her blouse, causing a couple of the buttons to fly to the floor, then he yanked it off her.
"You want to be treated like a whore? Well, no wonder. Because you are a whore baby, a little whore masquerading as a proper married woman, a married woman who goes looking for kicks with other men. In fact, you're worse than a whore -- at least a whore is a business woman who doesn't pretend to be a lady. But you're a whore pretending to be a lady, aren't you, you little slut?"
He was tugging at her skirt now, pulling it down over her hips. She tried to fight him, but he was strong as a bull, and his rage made him all the more powerful. He could have broken her arm as easily as he would snap a twig from a tree.
"Please. Please let me explain!" she begged. "I never lied to you yesterday. Everything I said was true. And you must believe me -- you're the first man I ever slept with since I was married."
"Sure, baby. Sure. When did you get married, day before yesterday?" He ripped her panties off of her with one powerful swipe of his hand. "Tell it to the marines, slut."
He grabbed her by the wrists and threw her down on the pillows. Her eyes were filled with terror. He unzipped his fly and tore down his Levi's, leaving his tee shirt on. "Now roll over."
Chris hesitated, her eyes full of fear. "What?"
"Roll over, I said! And get up on your hands and knees, get up on all fours, like a little bitch in heat. Cause that's what you are, baby ... a little bitch in heat!"
Chris reluctantly did as she was told, knowing she had no alternative but to follow his every command. He would only hurt her more if she resisted. She knew that there was deep hurt under his rage. Unwittingly, she had made a fool of him, had hurt his pride. Now he was going to make her pay for it, not realizing her painful situation with Reeve, and her own personal torment. Nor could he know that she had been affected by him more than she cared to admit. But it was too late for words now. She would simply have to endure his abuse and then exit from his life forever, praying that Reeve would never find out.
Chris felt humiliated and embarrassed beyond belief as the young man knelt behind her naked and defenseless private parts. He grabbed the ripe, fleshy globes of her ass between his powerful hands and squeezed them hard, sending shots of pain through her helplessly up thrust loins.
"Oooooowwwwwww!" she screamed as the pain seared her.
"Aw, c'mon now, that's nothing. Just a little love tap." Consumed by revenge, his mind filled with rage, he spread the smooth, soft cheeks with the palms of his hands and brushed the tip of her tightly puckered anus with the head of his enormous cock. Chris shuddered with revulsion; she felt mortified. Reeve had never touched her there with his penis! She closed her eyes tightly and gritted her teeth as she felt the probing cock brush against her virginal asshole. Then, for some reason, he abruptly moved away from her. She had an instant of relief, but then he was crawling on his knees until he was in front of her, and she found herself staring into his swollen cock!
"I'm giving you a break, whore. I'm going to let you wet my cock before I shove it into your ass. That way, it won't hurt quite as much. Besides, I like having my cock sucked. Now open that pretty little mouth of yours and eat my meat!
Ripples of shame ran through her body. Voices were screaming at her inside her head, castigating her as a hopeless wanton, a sinner who would be damned forever. Long bony fingers of guilt and condemnation pointed at her accusingly. Why was this happening to her? Why?
She opened her mouth tentatively, but he suddenly crushed her face against his loins, sending the pulsating ramrod into her mouth, to the back of her throat. She gagged convulsively. She remembered how she had wanted to suck him yesterday as she knelt before him. But now, being treated like a filthy whore, she felt quite differently about it. It wasn't an act of pleasure, it was an act of subjugation, and she felt totally humiliated by what she was being forced to do.
The pungent, masculine odor filled her nostrils, repelling her and yet, charging her with awareness. She struggled to spit out his cockmeat, but he grabbed her by the hair and held her rooted to his loins.
"Suck it!" he commanded.
Her mind screamed at her not to submit to this perverted act he was forcing upon her, but she knew there was no way to avoid it. Beads of perspiration broke out on her forehead as she began to do as he commanded.
"Harder," he snarled, suck it harder!"
Responding to his commands like a bond slave, she tightened her lips around his engorged pole and began to pull on it as he swayed back and forth, pushing it deep into her warm, salivating channel. She fought back a raging sense of revulsion and guilt. Suddenly, vivid images of Reeve and the sexual difficulties they had had flashed through her mind. She had always been so frightened of sensuality, despite her attempts to overcome the stultifying "programming" she had gotten from her puritanical parents and her Aunt Dorothy. She needed love desperately, needed to feel like a whole woman. And she needed to express her repressed sexuality to her husband. Poor Reeve -- he had always treated her so gently, so indulgently. He had been so patient with her, and she hadn't given herself fully to him ever. How could she? But she had given herself to this youth, this compelling musician who had enjoyed her in ways her husband never had. Now this same youth was subjecting her to the crudest kinds of torment; "rubbing her nose" in her newly found, budding sexual liberation. This could ruin her chances of achieving full sexuality forever!
The boy insinuated his hot pole in and out of her wetly sucking mouth, going in deeply, then pulling out, savoring the feeling of her softly warm lips clasping tightly around his hardness. She could feel the veins along the length of his cock, pulsing with each beat of his heart. He was pushing in and out, increasing the tempo of his strokes as he fucked her mouth, causing her to choke and gag.
"Eat it, you hot fucking little whore!" he urged.
Even as she gagged on his huge prick, feeling debased and more humiliated than she had felt since that night in Ohio when her father had switched on the light in her bedroom so unexpectedly, she slowly was becoming aware of other feelings blossoming in her. A perverse, evil sort of enjoyment was creeping through her. It was almost as if ... as if ... she could barely allow herself to think it ... but ... Yes, yes, her mind cried out, she almost enjoyed being fucked like a whore, a common fucking whore! She had been so hung-up, so frigid for so long. Yet this sudden vulgar treatment was opening her to entirely new realms of experience -- experience she could only label as base and vile, true, but at the same time, she could sense the unfolding of a dynamic new womanhood, with strange new urges and lewd, unexpected feelings.
Before she knew what she was doing, she placed both hands around his naked buttocks and began to suck the domineering young man's cock with determination. She devoured his hot, fleshy tool with a mounting excitement that transcended her feelings of despair, guilt and humiliation. What had been revolting and unthinkable to her only moments ago began to fill her with a sense of forbidden pleasure. She felt her whole body begin to palpitate, and she opened her throat wide to receive the youth's thrusting strokes. She was no longer Chris Richards, uptight wife, she was Chris the Gypsy, a wild, sensual creature submerged in a sea of eroticism!
"Mmmmmmmmmm ... " she moaned, "Mmmmmmmm ... "
The boy could feel the change in her, and it excited him more. He was loving every motion of her mouth as she sucked voraciously at his cock. He had to make a fast decision, for he was getting dangerously close to losing control. He had wanted to fuck her in the ass, to sodomize her, because he felt that would be the most humiliating thing he could do to her. But he wondered if that could possibly be as good for him as what she was doing now. Besides, she might, she just might cum if he buggered her, though he doubted it. But he had heard that some women did. He didn't want to give her that satisfaction, not now. Yes, he would let her suck him off.
"Let it all out, baby! Suck me off! C'mon, gypsy whore, suck my cock off!"
His lewd command excited her even more, and she sucked greedily on his pulsing prick, her own body trembling with the incredible new sensations she was experiencing. She was lost, beyond reason, beyond morality, beyond the entrenched puritan ethic! She was a sucking, licking happy whore, a slave-captive anxious to please her muscular, domineering master! As the youth's ramming increased, so did her voracious sucking. She had lost complete consciousness of her identity and wanted only to consume his delicious throbbing cock.
Suddenly the youth's hot male seed began to charge up from his balls.
"I'm ... going ... to ... cum! I'm cuuuuuuuummmmiiiiinnnngg!" he cried in a long, shrill wail and shot forth a gushing stream of white thick liquid into Chris's gluttonously sucking mouth. As she felt the heavy spurts of hot cum burst forth from the exploding prick's head, she recoiled at first at the pungent taste. But as she was forced to drink the strange liquid, her repulsion turned to rapture, and she sucked and pulled at his cock, swallowing all of the foamy essence, while the young man screamed with delight from the incredible release. She was hotter than a firecracker, and her vaginal juices were streaming down her thighs. She wished he had another prick at the ready to fuck her with. At that moment, she might even have willingly taken it in the ass.
Gradually, after licking every drop of semen from his cock, she felt the organ diminish and grow soft in her mouth. He released his grip on her hair and withdrew his glistening shaft from her warm wet mouth and lay back on the pillows, breathing deeply to fill his lungs with air. Chris gazed at him for a moment; her eyes lingering approvingly on the smooth, muscular chest, the well-developed biceps, the slim hips and the iron hardness of his virile young body. She was still turned on, and she wanted to lean over him and kiss him on the mouth, to stick her cum-drenched tongue into it and make him taste his own seed. Then her head cleared suddenly, and she became possessed by another cold wave of guilt. The terrible reality of what she had done, of the wanton way in which she had submitted to him, suddenly became vividly clear to her. She realized that she had done something she had never in her life thought possible.
"Oh God," she thought, an icy chill racing through her body, "what's happening to me? What's happening to me?"
He opened his eyes and looked at her narrowly, then his lips formed a sly smile. "You liked sucking and swallowing my cum, didn't you?"
Chris hung her head. "That was a very cruel thing to do to me," she said quietly.
"Yeah. So cruel it turned you on like hell, didn't it?"
"No it didn't. You forced me, that's all."
"You're lying! Come over here."
Chris scooted over next to him until she was lying beside him. She held her legs tightly together.
"Spread those pretty whore legs, baby," he said, pulling them apart, "and let's see if you're lying or not."
He stuck his finger into her cunt, causing her to jerk upwards. She was so wet, that when he took his finger out again, it made a wet little squishing sound. He laughed mockingly. "No, you didn't like it a bit, did you! You little phony. Here, lick my finger!" Chris was horrified, and she put her hands over her mouth, but he tore them away and shoved the wet digit between her teeth. She was surprised at the taste of her own pussy juices. Though the idea revolted her, it also brought another dimension of excitement. The taste was definitely sexual, though only slightly pungent. She shuddered.
"Finger lickin' good, isn't it?" he said.
"I ... I don't know."
"Have some more; maybe you'll be able to decide." He took her hand and placed it on her pussy. Then he guided her middle finger down the length of her wetly lubricated cunt and into the tight, vaginal hole. She was protesting, but he was manipulating her hand, forcing her to finger fuck herself. She began to breathe harder, despite her attempts to control herself. The images of that traumatic night when she was fourteen began to flash across her brain again. She couldn't stand it.
"Please don't make me do this. Please! I had a very bad experience when I was growing up, and this brings back painful memories. Please let go of my hand."
But instead, he gripped it tighter, seeming to take maniacal pleasure in what she had revealed to him. He spread the lips of her pussy, so that the entire genitals were open to his gaze. He was getting turned on by watching her finger fuck herself this way. She could see that it really excited him because his cock was beginning to stiffen slowly again.
He took her finger out of her cunt hole and pressed it against her clitoris, causing her to jerk upward again. He worked her fingertip around and around in circles over the tiny bud. Chris was going crazy; she was panting now, much as she hated being forced to masturbate in front of him. But again, there was something so wonderfully exciting about it, so deliciously lewd and wanton, that she was moved to forget some of her guilt and shame for the moment and bathe in the fantastic sensations that were emanating from her heated pussy.
He kept working her finger all over her cunt, on the sensitized clitoris, down the slippery furrow and into the glory hole itself. Then he added another of her fingers, then another, until there were three of her own fingers in her pussy sheath. By this time, the young man had taken away his hand, and Chris barely realized that she was doing all the finger fucking herself! Faster and faster went the fingers as she frantically sought to satisfy herself. He was egging her on, calling her "whore" and "slut" and other degrading names, telling her to keep fucking herself with those fingers, that he wanted to watch her cum.
And that's just what she did! Chris felt the thrilling surge of a powerful orgasm grip her body from head to toe, and she shook and convulsed, arching her back and bucking upward again and again. "Aaaaaggggghhhh!" she cried out. She lost all sense of time and space, all inhibition. At that moment she was back in her bed on that hot summer evening, experiencing the first thrill of sexual ecstasy. And she saw in a blinding flash, while she was at the peak of ecstasy, that what she had done hadn't been wrong, it had been natural. Sex was natural, it was meant to be that way. Otherwise the human race would have died out with Adam and Eve. She felt free! Free of all the crap her parents had laid on her, free of Aunt Dorothy, free of her hangups. In trying to avenge his own hurt, the youth had unwittingly done her the greatest favor of her life.
The youth was watching her, was sharing vicariously the sensations that racked the beautiful girl's body. Her mouth was open, her eyes were closed and her whole body glowed. She was an incredible specimen, he thought to himself, and he found his resolve to hurt her weakening. She seemed so fragile, so vulnerable. Yet there was something wantonly sexual about her too. She was, he thought, the perfect concubine. But he knew that his feelings for her were real, and it made him sad.
Chris's eyes fluttered open and she looked at him dreamily. She smiled and held up her arms, grasping him around the neck. "Kiss me, whoever-you-are. Please kiss me."
"Lick your fingers first. Suck the juices off."
She eagerly did as she was told, licking her fingers clean and savoring the taste of her own pussy. She even licked her lips. "Now will you kiss me?" she implored.
He couldn't resist her any longer. His mouth came down on hers and he buried his tongue inside her salivating trench, tasting her sweet pussy juices. She returned his kisses eagerly, thrusting her tongue into his mouth. They were devouring each other's tongues and lips like ravenous wolves.
"Oh Chris, Chris, baby," he said, his voice filled with emotion, and not all of it sexual. "God, why did you have to come into my life?"
"Perhaps for the same reason that you came into mine. We both have something to give each other."
Just then there was a knock on the door. A familiar voice called out "Jer, are you busy?"
Chris panicked and tried to get up. He held her there. "In a word, yes. What do you want?" he called.
"Give you three guesses. C'mon Jeremy. Open up."
He got up, pulled his Levi's on quickly and walked to the door. Chris was scrambling for cover, trying to use the pillows as a shield, when the boy opened the door and in bounced a stunning redhead with a body Raquel Welch would envy. "It's your friendly next door neighbor, here to borrow a cup of hash," she said, breezing past him. Then she caught sight of Chris, hardly camouflaged behind a big pillow. She looked horrified. "Hi. I'm Jeannie," she said casually, not in the least embarrassed at seeing the naked girl.
"That's Chris," he said, pointing to her. "She always goes around like that, a real child of nature, that girl."
"It's the only way to fly. I'm with you, Chris. Well, I won't keep you two. I apologize for coming at an inopportune moment. Just give me the goods and I'll run home like a good girl. I've got some plans of my own this afternoon, if you know what I mean. Just knock on the walls if it gets too noisy in there for you. Bye Chris. See ya kid," she said to Jeremy, giving him a playful jab on the chin.
"Smartass!" he yelled after her. But in a very friendly way. He closed the door and turned to Chris, a mischievous smile playing about his lips. "That didn't upset you, did it?" he asked.
"Are you kidding? I was embarrassed to tears," she gasped. "How could you do that to me?"
"Easiest thing in the world. What's wrong with it?"
"Allowing a complete stranger to see me naked in your apartment? You've got to be kidding!"
"She's no stranger to me, she's like my big sister. Besides, it's very loose around here. Venice is that kind of community. Where were you brought up, in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir room?"
"Worse. I was a bible-thumping preacher's daughter from Canton, Ohio."
He started to laugh and laugh. He became almost hysterical. "That's a gas, a real gas!" he said. "Look at the preacher's daughter now!"
"Please don't put me down like that, Jeremy. I can call you Jeremy now, can't I? It's a beautiful name."
He had slipped off his Levi's and was bending down over her. "Yes, call me Jeremy. Call me a fucking bastard. Call me anything you like, baby. Just keep those cards and letters comin'!" And he fell on top of her and pressed his mouth to hers once again.
Chapter Seven
Reeve checked the time on his digital watch. It was 5:05. He parked the Pantera in a garage near Jeannie's house and made it to her place in six minutes of brisk walking. His heart was pounding with excitement as he knocked on the door. She opened it as far as the chain would allow and peeked out. Her smile was immediate and infectious. "What's the password?" she teased.
"F-u-n," came the fast retort.
"Right on, daddy!" she said, opening the door wide. She was wearing tight Levi cutoffs and a skimpy green halter that was split halfway down her cleavage. At the sight of her Reeve could feel his long rod harden again with lust. He walked into her apartment, which was done in warm shades of pastel blue, with white accents everywhere. The walls were papered with a floral pattern. The sofa was white wicker, with another contrasting pattern in bolder blues and white covering the deep cushions. Against the wall was an old brass bed with a canopy of white lace and a lace coverlet over the blue bedspread. In the middle of the bed sat a Siamese cat, curled up very comfortably as though the bed had been placed there for his use only.
Reeve noted that there were built-in bookcases that held not only all kinds of books, from War and Peace to Allen Ginsburg's Howl, but expensive stereo equipment and about five hundred records.
"That's quite a collection you have," he said admiringly.
Jeannie looked down at her bosom. "Why thank you, sir." He broke up. It helped break the ice, too. Reeve had felt somewhat embarrassed at being in her apartment. The motel was neutral territory. But now, he felt as though he were invading her privacy. He knew that such an invasion made demands on him, too. The apartment was cozy and warm itself, almost like a country cottage. (She had told him that she was a country girl at heart, and her place reflected it.) But he felt guilty about Chris, of how she might react if she knew of his clandestine affair. He hated being furtive.
"Your apartment is neat, Jeannie. I like it," he said.
"That's the way I feel about it. I could afford a bigger place, actually. But I hate the thought of moving. I feel secure here. And I like living in raunchy old Venice. There are a lot of good types here, believe it or not."
"I do -- you're here, aren't you?" he grinned at her.
Then he looked around some more. She detected an uneasiness in him.
"What's the matter, Reeve?" she asked, noticing the furrow on his brow.
"Oh, nothing ... nothing's the matter."
"Are you worried about your wife?"
"I guess there were some such thoughts in my head."
Jeannie looked directly at him. "Look, if you're not sure, then maybe you'd better go now. I'm breaking a pretty important rule of my own, and it isn't easy for me either."
Reeve looked at her, taking in the bright blue eyes, the invitingly sensual lips, her statuesque body. A hot, animal excitement began to surge through him once again. His cock, already stirring with desire, hardened; throbbing with need. He felt swept again by that incredible sensation that had come over him when he first saw her, an irresistibly magnetic attraction that obliterated all doubt and worry. He moved towards her. His hand reached up and his fingers slowly caressed the perfect arch of her eyebrow, the gentle slope of her nose, the curve of her full, red lips ...
"Don't worry," he said softly, "I'm sure."
He lowered his mouth to hers. The electric touch of their lips, combined with the heady scent of her perfume, sent a thrill of excitement through him. They embraced tightly, their bodies eagerly pressing together like two hungry animals yearning to mate. They sought each other's lips greedily and kissed with a burning intensity as their hands roamed knowledgeably over each other's bodies.
Reeve could feel the firm, lushly sensual flesh beneath his hands. How warm and soft she was! How wickedly exciting it was to run his hand up and down her long smooth back to the smooth, firm perfection of her hips. How silky and erotic her glorious red hair felt as he ran his hands through it, all the while kissing her with heated abandon.
Jeannie returned his embrace with undisguised enthusiasm that matched his. She had hoped desperately that he would phone her, as she thought over and over about him and the exceptional afternoon they had spent together. She had been in almost a constant state of arousal since meeting him yesterday, and had found it hard to sleep. She could think of nothing else except his body and his wonderfully large cock driving into her hungry cunt.
"Oh, Reeve," she sighed as she squirmed against him, "you feel so great."
As their ardor began to mount, their eager hands started working on each other's zippers and buttons. Reeve unfastened the single button of her plunging vee-neck halter and the flimsy garment slid easily from her shoulders, exposing the fleshy ripe mounds of her breasts. His eyes locked on the warmly gleaming golden flesh of her resilient orbs, their pink halos encircling the hardening, eraser-like tips. Flinging the halter to the couch, his fingers moved sensuously over the quivering mounds, and Reeve's excitement rose as he felt her warm softness tensing under his touch and her breathing intensify.
Jeannie slid his tie from his collar and tossed it lightly to the couch. Then, one by one, she teasingly undid each of the buttons of his shirt, all the while kissing him lightly, or biting him gently on the lips. When his shirt was fully unbuttoned, she slipped it off and dropped it on a chair; then she let her hands slide over the hard curves of his muscular shoulders and chest. She loved the thick bulges of his forearms, and the strong shoulders felt warm and exciting to the touch. She let her palms move down across the hard, rippling planes of his stomach that were so well defined. It seemed to her that there wasn't an ounce of excess weight on his wirey, Adonis-like frame.
Reeve moved away from her and began to remove his trousers. She wriggled out of her tight cut-off jeans. Excitement was mounting in each of them as they got closer and closer to total nudity. Jeannie liked particularly his strong, sinewy legs that were covered with delicate, light brown hair. She felt her heart beat faster at the sight of his large, enticing cock throbbing impatiently through the clean white shorts.
Seeing her stripped to her flimsy bikini panties, Reeve felt another wild surge of desire shoot through him. He moved to her and cupped one supple curving mound of her buttocks, so sensuous to the touch under the gauzy fabric. His other hand sought the warmly pulsing pubic mound which had dampened her crotch band noticeably. Jeannie returned the gesture, worming her fingers through the opening in the front of his shorts and tightly grasping his hotly pulsating penis at the same moment Reeve slipped his hand beneath the elastic waist band of her panties and let his probing finger tease the quivering bud of her clitoris.
This evoked a gasp from the lustful girl. She thrilled, too, to the feel of his generously endowed cock, so long, so powerfully erect. She ran her fingers over the round, helmeted head, imagining it sinking deep inside her vaginal cave, so deeply that it touched the delicate cervix. The lewd thought caused her to begin trembling with anticipation.
"Oh, baby!" he groaned as her nimble fingers played with the hardened flesh of his cock. She moved with sensuous expertise over every part of his penis; first teasing the warm head with her fingers, then tightly grasping and stroking the thick shaft in such a manner that he groaned loudly with pleasure. She moved her hand along the entire length of his throbbing cock, awakening every long inch of that lusty member. She paused at the thick base, massaging it skillfully, sending searing jolts of pleasure through his quivering flesh.
Reeve slid his hand along the hot, fleshy furrow of her cuntal slit, occasionally letting the tip of his outstretched middle finger dig deep into the palpitating pussy opening. At other times, he used his thumb and forefinger to massage her clitoris again. Each time Jeannie shuddered with pleasure as she felt his fingers teasing the sensitive little bud. She said to him at one point, "Honey, if you keep doing that, you're going to make me cum right here. I'm so hot I could cream right on your fingers." She was frantic with longing, and with eagerly trembling hands, began to yank at his shorts. He caught her urgency and did the same with her panties, pulling them quickly down over her tantalizing buttocks and beautiful long legs.
In seconds they were completely naked, their bodies bathed in the golden light from the window. It seemed to Reeve that, in her aroused state, her whole body glowed with a light of its own. The svelte slender form was invitingly alive as the girl moved toward him, undulating like liquid mercury. She stopped in front of him, only inches away. Although they were not touching, the energy that passed between them electrified his body from head to foot. With a mysterious smile, she suddenly dropped to her knees and once again took his iron hard cock in her hand, causing him to groan at the touch of her small fingers on his thick, massively throbbing penis.
Without warning, her tongue darted from her mouth and playfully licked the one pearl-like drop of oozing semen from the tip. Then she began sucking at the head of his cock, and he cried out in pleasure.
"Aaaaaahhhhh!" he gasped.
Now Jeannie inched toward him and let her soft warm lips completely enclose the pulsating head, teasingly sucking and licking it, bringing his huge tool to a state of total responsiveness. He responded to the girl's oral love making, rocking back and forth slowly on the balls of his feet as her knowledgeable hands massaged the warm cum-loaded pods at the base of his prick. Loving the musky male odor that filled her nostrils, the kneeling young woman took the entire length of his long, fleshy cock into her greedily sucking mouth, letting her teeth brush lightly against the skin of the thick shaft. A lewd and shameless passion welled up in her as she felt the heated flesh pulsating deep in her mouth. She sucked and pulled at it wildly now, while her hands lightly caressed his straining buttocks and muscular thighs.
Reeve was totally consumed with excitement. Waves of wanton pleasure shot through him as this beautiful creature on her knees worked her warm, tightly compressed lips up and down the long hard length of his penis. He began, almost unconsciously, to thrust his pelvis back and forth, to move his whole body in rhythm with the sensually sucking warmth that washed over him. He glanced down and watched this voluptuous creature eagerly sucking at his penis with a total lack of inhibition and it filled him with a sense of power ... he felt fully alive, like a superhuman creature. He was strong, potent and shaking with lust.
"Oh, yes ... " he groaned, "yes, oh yes! That's it, baby!" Her fingernails dug into his buttocks as she took his enormous cock as deeply as she could into her warmly clasping mouth.
"Let me taste you, too," he said, his voice hoarse with lust.
Quickly she withdrew her warm mouth from his cock, and moved quickly to the wide couch and lay back, spreading her legs obscenely and pushing the glistening pink blossom of her hotly eager cunt up fully to receive his mouth. He positioned himself directly above her, his knees on either side of her head, his pendulous testicles swaying obscenely above her mouth and his face hovering just above the perfumed pussy.
The sweet feminine scent wafted up into his nostrils and his red, quivering tongue tentatively explored the curling strands that surrounded her trembling, pink slit. He began a maddening licking, a licking that moved down closer and closer to the wide-open palpitating mouth of her cunt. Then, unable to control himself any longer, he drove his tongue into the moistly heated vaginal opening.
"Aaaaaaagggggghhhh!" he heard her cry as his tongue communicated with the inflamed little nerve endings under the spongy flesh. He was tremendously excited by her animalistic reactions as she moaned, squealed and writhed beneath him. This was something he had never experienced from Chris, and now his own sense of potency was renewed by the shameless sexuality of the woman who hungrily squirmed and thrashed beneath him. There was no resistance here, no distaste. His mouth moved down again toward the fevered opening to her vaginal sheath and returned his tongue into the moistly pulsing pussy.
Electrified, almost screaming from the overpowering sensation of his hotly quivering tongue in her cunt, Jeannie undulated obscenely, spreading her legs wide apart and lifting her knees to give him easier entry. She felt a warm tingling surge of delight spread through her body. It was in moments like this that she truly felt alive; that she felt fully a woman! For years she had suffered the scorn of her relatives and even friends who had disparaged her for not being married and for living as a free-swinging bachelor girl, with lovers instead of a husband. She had tried to explain to them that she was not the marrying type., that she had a career and needed the freedom to come and go as she pleased above all else. Of course, there were times when she had to admit that she yearned for the stability of a husband and a loving home. But as long as her life style provided her with exciting moments such as this, it was well worth the price she had to pay. In gratitude, she greedily devoured his cock and used her hands to play with his lemon-sized balls, which were lewdly skimming her forehead as they swayed back and forth under her touch.
Reeve, insanely excited, plunged his tongue deeply into the warmly shuddering walls of her pussy, whirling and rotating it around and around as he drove his luscious sucking partner to unbelievable heights of wantonness. Her defenselessly open cunt was grinding up into Reeve's face, crushing his mouth cruelly against the slippery wetness of her furrow, which flowered open to devour his pleasure-giving tongue like a Venus fly trap. At the same time, her warmly wet mouth sucked at his huge hot spear, sending shivers of shameless lust surging through him. Her fingernails dug into his buttocks as she took his enormous cock deep into her voraciously sucking mouth, feeling the rubbery head brush at the back of her throat. She worked expertly on the excited genital flesh, and her tongue roved greedily over the throbbing veins that stood out along the length of the massive pole. Reeve positioned himself a little further forward, giving his tongue even greater access to her wet nest and allowing her a greater vantage point from which to suck his throbbing tool.
"Ooooooohhh ... ooooooooohh!" came her muffled cry as his tongue worked madly at her throbbing cunt, licking it up and down and spearing the tight hot channel frantically. Jeannie was floating on a cloud of pure sensation. Her eager mouth was clasped tightly around Reeve's thick, rigidly erect penis and her lips began to move up and down the length of the hot pole with increasing excitement.
Reeve pumped his pelvis back and forth in rhythm with her sucking motions, and he crushed his face even more harshly against her wet, wide-open pussy, jamming his tongue deeply into the pulsing canal and reveling in the aromatic warmth of her cunt against his face.
The swelling tide of joy that pervaded Jeannie now had begun to increase. She felt lightheaded, as radiant hot sparks raced through her body and over her skin. Her hungrily devouring mouth, combined with Reeve's wildly sucking lips and tongue on her pussy, produced an incredible surge of throbbing, obscene excitement. Her breaths were shorter and faster and her body began to shudder in preparation for her impending climax.
Reeve, too, could tell that he was close to orgasm. His balls grew tight and tingled with anticipation. He increased his tonguing, wildly worming the tip of it far up into her heatedly clasping sheath. Abruptly, he was there, starting to cross the finish line. His body was convulsed, and his genitals, swollen to the bursting point by Jeannie's expert sucking, began to spew the thick hot liquid into her receptive mouth.
"Ah ... ah ... aaaaannnnnnngggggggg-hhhhhhhhh" he groaned against her cunt as his wildly jerking cock shot the creamy white sperm into her sucking mouth and throat. The ecstasy he felt as he released his hot essence into the voluptuous, cock-sucking mouth was almost beyond anything he had ever felt! Particularly since it triggered Jeannie's orgasm and he could feel her pussy vibrating uncontrollably beneath him as she bucked and twisted and groaned beneath him. He redoubled his efforts, tongue-fucking her madly, ramming his oral member deeper than ever into her hot little cunt.
Jeannie gulped the thick, warm fluid and felt it course down her throat as he spurting an incredible gush of cum into her mouth. Her own feminine sex juices streamed from her cuntal walls and mixed with his saliva. Her sleek inner thighs shimmered with the" sticky issue from their love making.
Jeannie sucked his cock some more, draining him of every drop of cum, while her own hot essences continued to stream out of her vaginal entrance and spread across her cunt-sucking lover's face like a fine coating of oil. Jeannie was floating, joyous and alive, carried along effortlessly by the bubbling torrent of her orgasm.
"Mmmmmmmmnnnn ... " she groaned. "Oooooooohhhhhhh ... God! ... "
They continued to lick and suck at each other gently for a few more moments, until their passions began to ebb and the orgasmic ecstasy faded in each of them. Then Reeve swung his body around and lay next to the gorgeous redhead, and they kissed each other deeply once more. They lay close together on the sofa, exhausted and completely satisfied.
"That was the greatest," she said, snuggling into his arms. He sighed deeply in agreement. "Yeah ... fantastic."
Suddenly, Jeannie blurted out, "What a lousy hostess I am. I didn't even offer you a drink!"
"I wasn't exactly thinking of drinks when I walked in, baby!" he reassured her.
"Neither was I. But would you like a little wine now?" she asked.
"You don't have any Scotch, do you?"
"Sure. But it's not a good idea to have it with the hash. It might bum you out -- and I wouldn't want that to happen," she grinned.
"You've got hash?" he said incredulously.
"Doesn't everybody?" I borrowed it from Jeremy. I told you, he lives right next door."
"That's the kid I'm supposed to hear tonight, right?"
"The same. I think he's a fantastic talent," she said, getting up to get the wine. "I hope you think so too, Reeve. Somebody's going to sign him up soon. He's too much of a talent to go unnoticed for much longer." She got a decanter of white wine from the refrigerator and two glasses. Reeve watched her as she moved with a natural sensuality around the tiny kitchen, her big, beautiful breasts rubbing against each other as she reached for things. Damn, she is gorgeous! he thought to himself. Again he felt his cock twitch in appreciation.
"Is he talented in bed, too?" he asked unexpectedly.
Jeannie looked up at him, a look of hurt surprise crossing her face momentarily. "I'd be the last to know," she said flatly. Reeve knew that he had offended her. He was sorry the moment the words were out of his mouth.
"I'm sorry, Jeannie, that was crass of me," he apologized.
"Forget it," she said, trying to make light of it. "I suppose it was a natural assumption. But while we're on the subject, let me put your mind at ease. Jeremy is a dear, and good looking, with a great build too. But he's only twenty-one -- though he looks nineteen. At twenty-six, I just don't dig younger men. Maybe fourteen year old boys, but not twenty-one year olds! If I were forty, I'm sure Jeremy might turn me on, but not now. He's like my kid brother, for God's sake!"
Just then, there was a banshee cry from the next room that started both of them.
"I want you to fuck me! Oh fuuuuuuccckk meeeee!"
Reeve and Jeannie looked at each other. "He obviously appeals to some women," he said ironically.
Jeannie began to laugh. She thought about the girl who was trying to hide behind the pillows when she went to Jeremy's for the hash. She looked like such a shy, delicate creature who would never be capable of anything like that obscene scream. It's certainly true, you can't judge a book by its cover! She told Reeve about the incident.
"She's a beautiful girl, too. Really a darling," she added.
"She couldn't possibly be any match for you," he said.
"Flattery will get you anything!" she said, handing him a small pipe with the burning narcotic glowing in its bowl.
"He drew deeply on it. "Promise?" he asked slyly.
"Just try me."
In the next room, Chris was again kneeling on all fours on the fat pillows, like an obedient slave. Continuing his vengeful plan, Jeremy knelt behind her. He reached around and stuck his fingers into her mouth. "Lick them. Get them nice and wet," he ordered.
Chris did as she was told, finding that she enjoyed this little act of subjugation. It was exciting!
He used the saliva-covered fingers first to moisten his cock. Christ was trembling with excitement and apprehension. She had a dark inkling of what he was going to do, but she wasn't certain. Or maybe she didn't want to face it.
Jeremy, without warning, stuck his middle finger deep into her pussy. She instinctively bucked forward, feeling a momentary pain from the brutal gesture. But as he worked his finger around in her pussy, she began to grind her hips to increase the sensations his fingers generated.
"You like that, don't you?" he said sarcastically.
"Oooooh, yesss," she said thickly.
"Then see how you like this!" Just as abruptly, he withdrew his finger from her pussy and wormed it into the tight recesses of her virginal anus.
"Aaaaaannnnnggggghhhhh!" she cried.
She had have known such pain. It seared her anal canal like a burning fire.
"Stop, stop! Please!" she begged, sweat breaking out on her forehead.
But he forced his finger in deeper, further up the tightly resisting little crevice, widening the entry as Chris screamed helplessly beneath him in terror and pain.
"A iaeeeeeeeee! Noooooooooo!"
He rammed and prodded his finger into the shuddering passage, sending unbelievable shafts of pain through her tortured body. She clutched desperately at the pillows, trying to get away, but he grabbed her breasts and held onto her tightly. Whenever she leaned forward or tried to scoot away, Jeremy would squeeze her nipples hard, causing her more pain.
Then suddenly, he withdrew the offending digit and she had a momentary respite. His huge cock loomed menacingly behind her defenseless ass, and she felt her tension increase, for she knew that his finger had only been the scout. His cock would follow, impaling her mercilessly and probably injuring her irreparably for life. She wanted to feel his cock in her cunt, not her asshole. Tears came to her eyes.
"Please ... please be gentle, Jeremy," she begged pitifully. "I've never even been touched there like that before. I can't take it."
"Don't worry, gypsy. You're going to love it, once you get used to the feeling."
Jeremy used the fingers of one hand to spread her ass cheeks apart. Then, holding his cock in the other hand, he made a tentative thrust forward, trying to penetrate the tight sphincter with the tip of his penis.
"Stop! You're hurting me!" she cried as the pressure of his organ sent another shaft of pain into her.
Ignoring her protest, Jeremy made a sudden thrust, and the tight ring muscle suddenly opened to admit the pulsating head of his thick hard rod. Once inside, he started hammering into her hotly clenching rectum with vicious little lunges that thrust her forward in agony.
She shrieked out, as her rectal crevice was consumed by sharp, burning pains, as though she were being stabbed repeatedly by a devil's pitchfork.
"Aaaagggggggghhhhhhh! Oooooooohhhhh! Uuuuuuunnnnnngggggg!" she cried aloud.
This was too much! This was inhuman, perverted! She was filled with shame and loathing. She was being treated worse than a prostitute, being ravaged heartlessly. She never expected this kind of treatment from Jeremy, despite his hurt and anger, his conflict. There had been moments of tenderness between them that afternoon, when he had let down his guard. Now he was punishing her again, playing the vituperative suitor all over again. She cursed herself for ever having come to Venice.
If she had seen his face at that moment, she would have noted a look of agonized triumph. Deep down, he really didn't want to hurt her. But he somehow felt compelled to. Somewhere deep in his unconscious was the propelling notion that ultimately, he was doing her a favor.
He grunted like an animal and rammed his hotly throbbing penis further and further into the scalding depths of her virginal rectum, hanging onto her breasts again, and forcing her submit to the painful buggering. He continued to embed his thick, blood-engorged ramrod deeper and deeper into her until his large, lust-swollen testicles slapped loudly against her smooth, perspiring buttocks.
She was wailing like a wounded dog, crying out in pain. Jeremy stopped for a moment, feeling her body heave heavily up and down. He took one of his hands from her breast and moved it down to her crotch. Then he opened the lips of her pussy and stuck his finger into the moist trench, rubbing it up and down against her clitoris. Chris reacted to this unexpected pleasure with a moan of delight spliced in between her groans of pain. The pleasurable sensations made the pain almost bearable.
Jeremy began to fuck her slowly in and out of her painfully stretched anus, each sodomizing thrust widening the straining elastic channel and easing his rapacious entry. He continued to massage her pussy in tempo with his asshole fucking, and Christ found herself moving against him in a complimentary rhythm with his thrusts. Gradually, the tempo increased, and so did the pain. She had never felt such fiery shocks in her life, despite the pleasure that came from his hand in her pussy.
Then strangely enough, just as the torturous punishment reached its maximum, Chris involuntarily began to surrender to it. Bit by bit, a totally new feeling began to ripple through her ravished young body; out of the burning humiliation and shame came an entirely new feeling of warmth and excitement; a feeling she had never felt before in her entire life. She was no longer able to distinguish pleasure from pain. In fact, the pain was pleasurable now ... yes, even exciting!
"Oooooohhhhh ... " she moaned. "Ooo-hhhhhhhhh!"
Chris was grunting and moaning now; Jeremy was tensed and his muscular body was shaking with lust. "Ungh! Ungh! Unnnggghh!" he grunted, like a rutting pig, burying his hotly throbbing cock to the hilt in her battered anal passage.
"Y-Yesss."
"Then ... grunt ... grunt for it."
"Ungh! Pleeaasse. Please fuck me."
"Louder!" he ordered, fucking into her with the force of a pile driver.
"Pleasssse, oh pleeeaassse fuck me. Unngh! Harder! Fuck me harder! Ohhhhh, fuck me hard!!!"
Her grunts and cries reached the ears of the occupants in the next room, who were fired with an excitement of their own. They had been sharing the hash pipe as they sipped their wine nakedly together on the couch. Reeve had to admit that the sounds from the next room were sexy as hell, and under the liberating influence of the narcotizing hash, and the warm intoxicating glow of the wine, he had once more become wildly aroused. Hearing the cries of lust from the lips of the girl in the next room, he felt his whole body tremble with excitement. He wondered vaguely what the girl in the next room looked like. She certainly was a live one! The feeling of Jeannie's naked body lying close to his sent ripples of sensuality running through him. Whenever they touched there seemed to be an electrical vibration between them that charged every fiber in his body. He remembered feeling exactly that way with Chris in the early days, but disappointing sexual encounters, and the resentments that followed had all conspired to shut down the current. Now, holding this voluptuous creature in his arms, he felt those wonderfully vibrant sensations coursing through his body again.
Suddenly he pulled her face up to meet his and they French kissed with deep intensity. Then he turned her so that she was lying on her back. He kissed her face, her neck and then moved down to the large, firmly flushed breasts that already sported puckered areolas and hardened nipples. His tongue traced a line around them, and he gently nibbled the sensitized tips, sending shafts of pleasure through the willing, wanton singer.
"Ooooooh, baby. Do it. Do it like that. It feel so wonderful," she cried to him, her eyes closed and her lips parted in rhapsodic appreciation. She reached down and began to stroke his massively hardened cock, which was pressed against her groin. She marveled at its thickness and length, it felt so good to touch, so warm and fleshy.
Reeve squirmed above her, moving his hips back and forth, increasing the pleasure of her hand massage on his lust-engorged penis. His hungry mouth seemed to devour her round, fleshy breasts. First one, then the other. He felt lost in their soft resilience, the firm texture of those pliant, pneumatic mounds. He felt he could stay with her like this forever, lost in the sea of her undulating flesh. Even in his bachelor years, before he married Chris, he had never felt as free and as open as this. The girls he dated were warm and giving at first, but as he got more intimate with them, they didn't respond as fully as he hoped they would. He suddenly realized that maybe there had been something missing in himself -- maybe he had been too gentle, or too cautious or inhibited. He was always taught that women had to be treated with kid gloves, that they really didn't dig sex that much, so you had to lead them gradually into every sexual encounter. His father had told him that wearily one night before he went off to college. It wasn't until that moment that his mother must have been a rather passionless woman. After all, his parents were from another generation, steeped in middle class morality and the Judeo-Christian ethic, which takes a pretty dim view of sex.
In a burst of passion, Jeannie suddenly grabbed him by the hair and brought his mouth onto hers, kissing him with a fiery intensity that was almost painful. He was a bit shocked at first, but he realized that there was pleasure in those painful kisses. He could feel his heart pounding and his whole body vibrating with a deep, animalistic excitement. He returned her kiss with equal fervor, his tongue driving deep, deep into the warmly receptive flesh of her mouth. When they parted, they were both gasping for breath.
"Wow!" she said, "where have you been all my life!"
He didn't say it, but he was thinking exactly the same thing about her.
There was a series of ecstatic cries from the next room as Jeremy's burning, thick white cum spewed forth into Chris's warmly clenching asshole. "Ah ... ahhhhh ... aaggghhhh!"
He rammed her without letup, sweat dripping from every pore in his body. Though he would never admit it to Chris, this was his first experience in fucking anyone in the ass, too. He had always wanted to try it, but had never had the courage to before. There was something so wickedly lewd about it that it really turned him on; his pleasure was heightened by the awareness of its source.
Jeremy was seized by convulsive spasms of delight as his wildly jerking penis emptied itself in a seemingly never-ending torrent.
Chris could feel the boiling, surging river of cum pour into her rectum; it seemed to flow throughout her body. She felt as though her innards were melting in its path. She could scarcely believe how wantonly wonderful she felt! And then, as her seducer's long, hard cock jerked and quivered in orgasm, she felt the exquisite blossoming of her own climax. She was cumming! She shoved her baby-soft buttocks against his pumping loins and shrieked, "Harder! I'm cuuuummmmiiiinnnngggg!" (The cry could have been heard in Long Beach.) Her own sex juices were gushing in her vaginal passage, released by the turbulent activity in her wildly puckering rectum. All pangs of guilt and revulsion were washed away in the vast, hot ocean that surged so mightily through her writhing loins!
Jeremy rammed his hot gushing spear back and forth as the never-ending rocket load of cum spurted through the charged head and into her battered anal passage. He felt like a conquering warrior chieftain, forcing this beautiful creature to submit to him this way. An ancient, primitive exaltation filled him as he shot the last of his white, boiling sperm into this love slave's sacrificial anus.
"Annnnggghh," he moaned, as he drained himself in the virgin orifice. He collapsed on top of her, sending her prone on the soft cushions. They were both sweating profusely, heaving and panting in the dwindling throes of spent sexuality.
Chris had been through the most grueling sexual ordeal so far. Her defiled rectum throbbed with pain. Yet, she had also felt the dark glimmerings of a forbidden excitement she had never known in her life. She was shocked by the changes that had occurred to her in the last twenty-four hours. My God, what kind of sex maniac am I becoming, anyway? she wondered to herself. Her thoughts were very disquieting.
The vivid images called forth by the orgasmic screams in the next apartment inflamed the cheating husband and his hot little girlfriend to a state of unendurable desire. All Reeve could think of was the hot need to sink his yearning prick into the hot, mossy depths of Jeannie's tight little pussy. He arched over her now, ready to plunge into her hotly waiting cunt, wanting to hear her grunt for it, too. He wasn't disappointed -- she ground her hips up impatiently and cried, her voice coarse with passion, "Unnngh! Give it to me, baby, Unngh ... please, fuck me. Fuck me!!!!"
She guided his heatedly pulsing cock to the entrance of her cuntal passage. With one deft thrust of his hips, he plunged into her like a christened boat sliding into water, and his thrust into her like a christened boat sliding into water, and his thrust went deep into her, up to the hilt. They were joined together now, and the electrifying wetness they felt in their genitals sent out glowing radiations to all parts of their wantonly writhing bodies.
He began to drive in and out of her wetly clasping cunt with a sense of urgency, plunging his massive pole of hard flesh so deeply that it bounced up against the tender tissue of the cervix, and he could feel that the tip of his cock had reached the end of the line. Then he pulled it out again until it was poised achingly just inside her quivering pussy lips. Back and forth, in and out, he rowed in her sheltering channel, sending reverberating shudders of lewdly designed sensation through the walls of Jeannie's vaginal passage.
She ran her hands greedily over his laboring body, savoring each muscular curve with delight. As she felt the round, plunging head of his cock bore deeply into her, it was as if her body were being borne aloft by a mighty, battering rocket. She could feel the softness of his hairy balls slapping against the tender flesh of her anal crack, moistened now with the heated juices welling up from her shamelessly aroused cunt. She closed her eyes, feeling herself enveloped in a white, pulsing cocoon of pure sensation. The wailing, the lewd screams from the next room, the hash and the wine and the musky odor of sweat from Reeve's body mixed with his sexy male cologne, brought her to the brink of no return. She felt herself beginning to shudder with uncontrollable abandon under the exquisite blows of his glorious prick. She opened her body totally to the heaving man above her, this god of a man who smote her with such brilliant strokes.
"Cum ... oh, cuuuuummmmm baby ... cuuuuuuummmmmmm!" she screamed while she thrashed under him in the throes of the radiant ecstasy that enveloped her. And he did, his bloated balls releasing the life-giving juice she begged for. He flooded her pussy with his hot, milky cum until his balls gave out the last of their ration and his spent organ grew flaccid inside her once again.
They lay there for a long while, locked in each other's arms, not speaking. Reeve was thinking about Jeannie, about the contrast in her life style to his own. In some ways, he envied the freedom she had to come and go as she pleased. He was the kind of person who needed order and structure to his life. Jeannie's apartment was very humble compared to the fairly affluent digs he and Chris enjoyed. But he didn't enjoy his life with Chris very much anymore. There was something important missing, and that missing ingredient was what Jeannie provided so readily and so satisfyingly. He felt a wave of sadness pass over him. If only Christ could be like that! But she probably never would be. She was so screwed up sexually that she could take up residence at the Masters and Johnson clinic for the life and still be a sexually stunted girl. How long could love last under those conditions? He needed his wife to be like Jeannie; needed her to respond as fully and as uninhibitedly as Jeannie did. Maybe Chris should watch him make love to the sensuous redhead ... she might learn what it's all about, he thought ruefully to himself. Or ... maybe he should call it a day with Chris and start all over with Jeannie? Before the disappointment went on any longer; before there were any children to worry about. That was a pretty heavy thought, and he forced himself to put it out of his mind.
"Does this place have hot and cold running shower service?" he asked with a grin.
"Day and night. Just like uptown!" she grinned back.
"Shall we? I want to take you out for drinks and a romantic dinner at the restaurant of your choice, m'lady. Then we'll go catch your friend's act -- if he has any strength left to hold his guitar!
Chapter Eight
The two of them dined at a steak-and-lobster restaurant that overlooked the water. Jeannie looked beautiful in the glow of the candlelight on the table. Both of them were feeling so mellow, so content. They began to talk about themselves, and to ask questions about each other. Jeannie talked about her lifestyle and some of her objectives. She had a vivacity that was altogether charming, and he couldn't help compare her with his shy, insecure wife.
"You like your life, don't you?" he asked.
"I love it." she replied without hesitation.
"But haven't you ever wanted to get married and have children?"
Jeannie looked away momentarily. "Some times. But there's plenty of time for that later. I don't think I'm the marrying kind. Besides, I have a long way to go as a performer. It's hard to be married and have that kind of career too, you know. Most men don't dig the idea of their wives playing the night club circuit."
"I know what you mean. I guess I put a damper in my wife's career. Although she probably wouldn't have made it big anyway. Oh, it's not that she isn't talented. She just doesn't have the drive, the toughness that one needs to get ahead."
"What's she like?" Jeanne asked. She was dying to know, yet she felt a knot of anxiety in her stomach. Obviously there was something wrong, or Reeve wouldn't be there now. He didn't seem like a player.
"Are you sure you want to talk about my wife?" he said, feeling a little uncomfortable himself.
"Well, it's just that I can't imagine you being married to a dull girl; nor can I imagine anyone letting you out of her sight for a minute."
"Thanks." he said. He hesitated, toying with his food. "I guess we all make mistakes."
"Mistakes? What do you mean?" she asked incredulously, her stomach fluttering with anticipation.
"Believe it or not, she was a virgin when we got married. I was attracted to her sweetness, her shyness, her vulnerable quality. She was so different from the girls I had dated. She brought out the protective side of me, made me feel needed -- and I was, as a daddy. Chris just never grew up in some ways, especially sexually. She's got so many hangups that way. I thought I could bring her around, but we've been married almost a year, and ... well, it's bombsville in the bedroom. I know it sounds like a line, Jeannie, but it's true. I wish to God I'd never married her."
"You say her name is Chris?" He nodded. "That's funny -- I mean, a funny coincidence. Jeremy's girl is named Chris, too." she said. "Do you love her, Reeve?"
He looked directly into her eyes. "I don't know. I thought I did, until recently ... "
Jeannie took a sip from her stinger. "Maybe I shouldn't have asked you that. I'm stepping over my bounds, I think, given our situation." She looked down at her glass.
"That's okay, honey. As a matter of fact, I'm glad you brought it up. It's been on my mind, Jeannie -- a lot. I'm not the kind of guy who can sneak around and play little clandestine games. I have to have everything straight out front. It would be great to be a real fucking bastard and ask you to be my mistress. But that just doesn't go with me."
"I guess that makes two of us." she said softly. "So?"
"So I have some important decisions to make -- soon." He looked at his watch. "Let's catch the first set."
The tiny dark nightclub was already jammed when they get there. It was hard to see your hand in front of your face at first. People -- most of them young and very hip -- crowded together at the tiny tables. They finally found a spot off to the side. Suddenly a voice boomed on the loud-speakers: "And now, friends, the incomparable Jeremy Stokes." The crowd clapped, whistled and stamped its feet loudly as a good looking young man appeared on stage with a guitar slung over his shoulder. He had the "X" quality, a presence, an energy that electrified the audience. Reeve sensed that here was a winner all right. But he wasn't prepared for the performance he got. As the youth sang his distinctive songs, in a voice that belied his young age, Reeve was amazed and awed. The kid had a magic that is rare, especially for one so young. His songs were tender, plaintive, gripping, funny, imaginative. His fluency on the guitar was spellbinding. His voice was pure, hypnotic. Reeve knew in the first fifteen minutes that he had to sign him immediately. Jeannie was thrilled.
"Thanks very much folks." Jeremy said to the audience. "And now I'd like to sing a little song I wrote last night; a song that was inspired by a very special friend of mine, who just happens to be in the audience tonight." he said, looking at one of the front row tables. "She's A Girl Called Gypsy ... "
As he began the song, both Reeve and Jeannie strained to see the girl who had inspired the song. It was obviously the girl Jeannie had met in his apartment, judging from the description in the lyrics.
There were too many heads in the way, though, and they couldn't get a glimpse of her. When the set was over, Jeannie took Reeve to meet Jeremy, who had gone backstage.
Reeve handed him a card saying, "Please phone me tomorrow so we can set up a meeting in my office."
"Sure thing. Gee, that's terrific. Gypsy was right after all -- hey, wait a minute." He looked at the name on the card very carefully. He hadn't really caught it when Jeannie introduced them. He looked up at Reeve with an expression that baffled the older man. It was almost one of pain.
"Anything wrong?" Reeve asked.
Just then a beautiful girl burst through the doorway.
"Jer ... Oh my God!" she shrieked, covering her mouth with her hands, looking in horror at Reeve, then at Jeannie.
For a moment there was stunned silence in the quartet. Then all hell broke loose.
Reeve's eyes blazed, the veins stood out on his forehead. "You fucking bastard!" he said, grabbing Jeremy by the shirt. The two began struggling as the girls tried to separate them.
"Reeve!" Chris shrieked, "Stop it! Stop it!"
A couple of the club's bouncers appeared in the room and grabbed Reeve's arms, pulling him away from Jeremy. "Hey, man, cool it!" they said, subduing the angry husband.
"Let go of him, it's OK." Jeremy said, breathing heavily from the struggle.
"I'll knock your fucking head off!" Reeve shouted at him.
"Reeve, please. Let's get out of here, the four of us, and talk things over like civilized adults." Jeannie begged.
"You call that civilized, what they were doing in his apartment?" Reeve shouted again. Then he realized that he had just irrefutably indicted himself.
"Oh Reeve, Reeve." Chris cried, bursting into tears of shame, humiliation and self-pity. She turned and ran out the door, sobbing hysterically. Reeve called to her, but she elbowed her way past the throng of people crowding around the bar, seeing nothing, hearing nothing. She was anguished, tormented, and her only thought was to get away from all of them.
Reeve forgot about Jeannie, forgot about Jeremy, forgot about everything at that moment except his wife. He dashed after her, followed by Jeannie and then Jeremy. They were all worried about Chris at that moment.
She was halfway down the street when Reeve caught up with her. "Chris, oh Chris!" he said, wrapping her in his arms. "Oh God!"
She tried to fight him off. "Get away from me. I never want to see you again!" she shouted through her sobs. She was almost convulsed with the wracking hysterics that gripped her.
Jeannie and Jeremy had followed them and were about twenty yards away. Then something happened that made them stop dead in their tracks.
Reeve kissed his hysterical wife fervidly on the mouth. She tried to pull back, but he held her tightly in his arms and forced her to submit to his kisses. He kissed her harshly, almost brutally, his body shaken with emotion. Gradually her resistance broke, and she began to return his kisses with an ardor she had never shown him in all their married life.
Jeannie and Jeremy exchanged poignant, knowing glances.
"It was great while it lasted." Jeannie sighed philosophically.
"Yeah ... the greatest." he said quietly. "Well, there goes my girl -- and my contract, all in one night."
"There goes my contract, too. Well, easy come, easy go, right?" Jeannie said, trying to hide her own deep hurt and disappointment.
"C'mon, I'll buy you a triple Old Fashioned before the next set, kid." Jeremy said, putting his arm around her shoulder and turning her in the direction of the club.
"Jeremy, you're a brick." she said, tears filling her eyes. She attempted a brave smile.
"Careful how you say that, lady!" he grinned reassuringly. Neither of them looked back again.
Chapter Nine
They left the Pantera in the garage and Reeve drove Chris's car home. Much of the trip back to Doheney Drive was spent in silence, though occasionally they exchanged comments about things. They had agreed not to discuss the events of the last twenty four hours until they got home.
They were each lost in their own private nightmares, experiencing an emotional turmoil that left them confused, angry, hurt, guilty and surprised. Even with the excruciating awareness that each had been unfaithful, there was an underlying excitement in allowing their imaginations to put together the pieces of the puzzles that had been created with other sex partners. Reeve just couldn't believe that it was his frigid wife begging the young stud musician to fuck the begeezus out of her. Even though he had proof positive, it was so totally out of character for the Chris he knew to behave that way. As far as he knew, she was incapable of passion, period; much less the kind of all-consuming passion that would force her to beg for cock. He was filled with a wave of self-recrimination. Maybe it's been me all along -- maybe I haven't been enough of a man for her, he thought. She wants a fucking animal, not a gentle, considerate lover! Here I was, treating her as though she were my daughter, not my wife. No wonder she didn't turn on. Goddamn that bastard -- why him and not me?
Chris felt the old humiliation wash over her. She hated herself for what she had done. She hated herself for hurting Reeve so badly. And she hated him for what he had done with that brazen redheaded bitch. But could she blame him? After all, what kind of wife had she been? She had never given herself to him, had never been a real woman with him. She knew that caused him to doubt himself. It's amazing he didn't have an affair a long time ago. That Jeannie was something else. She sure as hell doesn't have any sexual hangups, you can tell that!
Thinking of the two of them, Reeve and Jeannie together, kissing, fondling each other's bodies, having intercourse, or worse, oral sex, filled Chris with a deep sense of inadequacy. She was consumed with animosity for the sexy girl, an animosity which stemmed from unabashed envy. Then she thought of Jeremy, and the fantastic experiences she had had with him in such a short time. He had forced her into vile acts she had never dreamed possible; yet, despite the disgust she had felt at first, she also instinctively understood that she liked the vital, exciting thing that was happening to her. It almost seemed as though, by some incredible direction of fate, she had been led to experience things she would, perhaps, never have experienced with Reeve. Their marriage would have gone steadily downhill, both of them alienated and miserable; both lacking what they needed from the marriage. Moreover, she had been forced to face what she would normally never confront. In brutalizing her sexually, Jeremy had opened a new depth of feeling she hadn't known existed. He had showed her a new dimension in herself, one that had lain dormant inside her all along.
When they got to the house, Reeve went straight to the bar and mixed them both a strong drink. Then he sat down on the big sofa, where Chris was sitting. He took a couple of fast swallows, then cleared his throat.
"Chris ... I ... I guess there's a lot we have to talk about ... " His voice trailed off. They both sipped their drinks.
"I think that's been of our problems -- we haven't talked enough about the things that really mattered. I'm really sorry about that, Reeve," she said quietly.
"You don't have to apologize, honey. I've been just as guilty of that as you. In fact, I've been a klutz in a lot of ways."
"No you haven't, Reeve," she insisted. "I know I've been a trial and a disappointment in bed. I guess I can't blame you at all for ... for what you did."
"How did you ... how do you know that ... kid?"
"A fluke. I can hardly believe what happened myself. Will you ever be able to forgive me, Reeve?"
He looked at her. She had that terribly vulnerable look in her eyes that he never could resist. He felt a surge of tenderness in his heart. "Forgive you? I think I'd better ask you the same question. I'm not exactly in a position to cast stones!"
She gave a funny, little girl laugh. Reeve laughed, too. Soon they were both laughing sheepishly. "Can the pot call the kettle black?" she said, laughing more freely now. Reeve had never seen her so free. She stopped laughing, but there was still a mischievous smile on her face. "Hey, handsome, wanna take a chance with a loose woman?" she wisecracked in a perfect impersonation of Mae West. She unbuttoned her blouse.
"Oh darling ... you bet!" he said, moving next to her. His hands roved hungrily over her softness and her firmness, lingering over each fleshy curve. He could feel his cock stiffen and swell with a hotly implacable lust. Never had he imagined she would feel this good to him, or that she could respond in such a fiery way. He shoved his tongue deeply and roughly into her warmly moist mouth. Chris opened her mouth wide to receive her husband's tongue as deeply as possible. She sucked it, and that excited him tremendously. She had never done that before. It seemed as though she was sucking his cock! Then she suddenly forced his tongue out and shoved her own deep inside his mouth with the same lewd intensity. Reeve was caught off guard. Responsiveness was more than he could have hoped for; aggression was more than he dreamed of!
Without warning, she slid her hand down into the front of his trousers and groped for the massively pulsating cock, massaging it with her fingers, sending heated ripples of hunger through him.
"Oh, honey ... " he moaned, as her hand skillfully caressed his throbbing penis. He parted her unbuttoned blouse, leaned over and began sucking and biting on her straining breast, licking at the softly fleshed mound with a rising fervor. Then, without warning, he yanked her long skirt up, pulled down her panties and jammed his tongue deeply up into her hotly throbbing cunt walls.
"Aaaahhh!" she gasped, suddenly taken aback by the bold, unexpected gesture.
Reeve shoved his warm curling tongue deeply into her pussy, licking her madly, giving her no chance to resist. He loved the sweet taste of his wife's cunt and the feeling of the tight little hole embracing it. He nibbled tingles of wanton delight through Chris's body. She was tremendously excited to note that her husband, her trim, beautiful husband -- the man she loved -- was filling her with passionate longing. She didn't need a stranger -- Reeve was all the man she needed, and more.
She opened her legs wide and pushed her glistening pussy forward, unashamedly offering it to him ... savoring each wet lick of his warm tongue on her trembling cuntal flesh. "Yeesss," she cried loudly, "Yeeeesssss!" She had become so shamelessly aroused that she could no longer contain herself. In one shattering moment, all her inhibitions and self-doubt toppled like a row of dominoes.
"Let me suck you," she cried, "Let me suck your big beautiful cock, darling."
Reeve was astonished. This was the first time his wife had ever used such lewdly exciting language with him, and he was thoroughly delighted. She was like a brand new woman, a second wife. Quickly he pulled his pants off and lay back on the couch, as Chris positioned her salivating mouth over his widely throbbing penis. Slowly she lowered her face until her half-parted, glistening lips had enclosed the bulbous tip of his cock, and then she began to suck and pull at it, sending incredible waves of hot excitement through him.
"Ooohhh ... " he moaned blissfully.
Chris sucked eagerly and found herself enjoying the musky odor of her husband's cock that filled her nostrils. She also found a heated new excitement at taking his huge, pulsating penis in her wet mouth and tasting it, sucking it, feeling it slide along the rim of her teeth and lips; it gave her a sense of power, of immense pleasure. With her hands she massaged the hard resiliency of his balls dangling beneath his throbbing hardness. She had never thought she could enjoy something like this so much, but it was true! She was finally free of the guilt and nagging fear that had kept her a prisoner all these years, free now to find the full flower of her womanhood. She hunched over his heatedly beating penis, licking and sucking at it greedily, as though to devour it totally in her warm, sucking mouth. As her tightly ovalled lips moved up and down his hard shaft, she suddenly realized that she was indescribably happy ... perhaps truly happy for the first time in her adult life, for now she was part and partner of a man.
Suddenly she wanted to be fucked by her husband, wanted to feel his huge cock inside her, pounding away at her pussy for all he was worth. She stopped sucking and withdrew his cock from her mouth. "Darling ... ?" she called. "Please stop a minute."
Reeve thought, "Oh-oh! Here it comes!" But she surprised him again. She was smiling when she swung her legs around and turned to face him. "I love you. Do you know that?" she said simply and directly. "And I want you to fuck me, darling. Now ... please?"
Reeve grinned from ear to ear. He kissed her eagerly on the mouth, a great emotional current passing between them. He was more excited now than ever. Suddenly he stood up, his huge cock standing out like a flagpole. "Hop aboard, ma'am. This is the Happiness Express."
He helped her up from the couch and lifted her up as though she were a feather. She put her legs around his hips and let her cunt slide wetly down onto his extended cock. "Oooohhh, yesss. Yesssssss!" she moaned softly. "Oh, darling!"
He walked into the bedroom with his excited wife still impaled on his cock, her legs around his hips, her arms around his neck. She was showering his face with kisses. He leaned over, lowering her on her back on the mattress, his cock still imbedded in her pussy. Then he withdrew until just the tip remained inside her. Giving no warning, he suddenly rammed her cunt sheath until the head of his cock was stopped by her spongy cervix. Chris felt as if she had never been fucked before, as if she were being entered for the first time. She felt complete, a whole woman. She had yearned to feel this way all her adult life, and in particular, throughout her married life. She had cried buckets of bitter tears, lamenting her inability to feel, to give, to enjoy the natural fruits of her birthright. But it was happening for her now, all right! At last!
"Mrs. Richards, I almost forgot -- I love you too, darling. I really, really do!"
Then gently, he began pushing his massively pulsating rod in and out of her cunt again. Chris felt a deep, erotic ecstasy begin to surge through her loins from Reeve's pounding strokes. She surrendered fully to her husband.
"Yesss ... " she moaned softly, then louder and louder ... "Yeessss! Yeeesssss! Fuck my cunt, darling! Fuck it goooood!!!"
She thought she heard something snap inside, and she felt a sudden release. At last she was free forever of the shackles she had worn for nine years!
"Oh Yeessssss!" she shrieked, "Yeeessss! Fuck it. Oh, Fuck It!"
Tears of joy streaming from her eyes, she gave herself completely to the roaring surge of lust that ran through her. Her curvaceous young body began to writhe, and she wrapped her long, slender legs around his naked buttocks as Reeve's cock fucked into her like a mighty cannon. He had finally found the woman in the girl he married, the woman he felt was there, but only surfaced now. She was worth waiting for, that woman!
Chris moved her pelvis up and down now with a fevered intensity and tightly put her arms around him, delighting in his rippling, muscular body. She realized that she had never really touched him quite that way before. She had missed so much. But she would make up for it now! She ran her fingers through his thick blonde hair, and eagerly drew his face down to hers. They kissed deeply, thrillingly, with an intensity they had never known before.
Reeve could feel the release of tension immediately. It was as if they both had suddenly been freed from restraints that had held them both back. Their bodies merged as never before. He felt his cock suddenly grow even harder, stronger. He fucked with abandon in and out of her wildly milking cunt. It was amazing to him that so much could have happened in such a short time. Within the space of two days, their lives had been completely turned upside down. He cried out joyously, like a triumphant warrior, as he fucked his massively throbbing prick deeply into his wife's wetly steaming cuntal passage.
"Ooooohhhh!" cried Chris, delighting in every thrust. "Your cock feels so wonderful, darling!"
Reeve felt the first heated surge of cum rising in his sperm-bloated balls. Hot little tingles of delight began to ripple over his body. The white-hot seminal fluid was pushing slowly upwards for the final moment of ecstatic release. Chris, feeling the shudder of ecstasy go through her husband's body, could also feel her vaginal walls begin to quiver with a new, compelling intensity. A hotly exciting series of thrills began radiating out of her cunt, spreading throughout her entire body. She was almost there ... almost ... almost ...
"Oooohhh ... it's ... Cuuummmmiing! My pussy's cumming!"
Reeve reached the pinnacle and his white hot cum spurted ceaselessly out of his ramming tool into Chris's wetly clasping cunt walls. "Aaaannnggghhhhh!" he screamed as his cock exploded wildly inside her.
Their cum mixed together with the sweet rapture they shared, and both of them felt transported beyond time and space, lost in each other and in the golden aura of ecstasy that held them both. They had merged; had melted into one ship that sailed blissfully on the orgasmic sea.
Chris was free now, free forever of the bondage of the past. She had surrendered completely to her husband and had found, in her surrender, a totally new and delightful world opening up to her ... a world she would never want to leave.
Chapter Ten
The next morning Reeve Richards breezed into the office with more spring in his step than anyone had seen in months. He looked rested, fit and very happy. (Little did they know that he had spent half the night making the most uninhibited kind of love to his young wife!) He motioned for Margo to follow him into the office.
"Margo, how long has it been since you've had a raise?" he asked her slyly.
"What? Oh, about eight months, I guess." she said, looking at him oddly.
"Well, would you mind sending a memo to the payroll department telling them to add another fifty bucks a week to your paycheck? I'll initial it when you've typed it up. Have it on my desk when I get back this afternoon. Chris is taking me out to Venice this morning to pick up my car. Then we're having lunch out, so I won't be back until 2:00."
"Fifty dollars? Venice? I don't get it, boss." she said, blinking her eyes.
"There's a kid playing a small club out there that is the hottest talent I've seen in years. I intend to sign him -- today." he said, reaching for a blank contract. "As for the raise, you're going to earn it. We've got about two week's worth of work to do in the next couple of days, Margo."
"Why so?" she asked uncomprehendingly.
"Because in three days, I'm leaving for Mexico with the beautiful Chris Richards. We'll be gone two weeks. Oh, while I think of it, here are the names of places we want to stay. Will you arrange it, please, Margo? Use that same travel agent, the one with the lisp. He's a fairy, but he sure knows the travel business."
"That's great that you're going away, Reeve. You've been needing a vacation."
"Margo, this is more than a vacation. It's a honeymoon." He winked at her devilishly as he gathered some papers and put them into an attach� case. "Oh, one more thing. Call Walt and tell him to kill that Jeannie Jerome promo. I want to see a head shot. It's going to be called: 'One Hell of A Woman'. I want to use Chris on the backup group, so be sure she's in the credits. A little nepotism never hurt anybody, right?"
"That's terrific, Reeve. I never said this before, but I always thought it was a shame that Chris didn't continue performing. She's got a lot of talent."
"I think she might get back to it sooner than you think!" he said, grinning warmly at her. "See ya later, kid." And with that, he waltzed out of the office, leaving Margo with her mouth open.
Reeve insisted that Chris go with him up to Jeremy's apartment. She fought against it, though in her heart she knew that it was the best way to conquer the situation. Reeve knew that Jeremy would be sleeping, and that he might be hostile, but he was king of the mountain now, and nothing would daunt him.
He knocked boldly on the door. There was no answer. He knocked again. A sleepy voice called out, "Whoever it is, bug off." Reeve looked at his wife and grinned. He knocked even louder. There was grumbling, then a loud, "Goddamnit!" and the heavy shuffle of bare feet.
Jeremy opened the door wearing a pair of jeans and blinking against the light.
"Good morning." Reeve said brightly.
"Whaaa ... What the fuck do you want?" he bristled. He started to slam the door, but Reeve thrust his arm out. "I want to offer you a recording contract, Jeremy." he said.
"You What? What is this, your idea of a practical joke?" he bellowed. "Hey, hot stuff!" he called to someone in the room. "Did you dig that? Mr. Big says he wants to offer me a contract!" Then, turning to Reeve again with his middle finger thrust in the air he said, "Up yours. I don't dig your little jokes, man. Now why don't you and your old lady take a hike!"
Reeve got mad at that. "Listen, smartass, I came here for one reason, and one reason only -- to make a deal to record with Phantasmix. I figured you were smart enough to know a good thing when you see it -- but I guess I was wrong. If you want to cut your nose to spite your face, that's tough darts!"
"Aw right, aw right. Forget it." He opened the door wide. "Come on in ... I guess."
"Thanks." Reeve said. Chris didn't look at Jeremy as they walked in, but she did see the woman who was lying on the bed of pillows in his apartment -- it was Jeannie Jerome! She was sitting up, wearing a smile and a bed sheet!
Chris looked at Reeve. She wasn't prepared for this encounter! A mixture of fear, anger and apprehension overtook her. Reeve was taken aback too. He stood there root-bound for a moment without saying a word, his eyes fixed on the luscious redhead. Then he smiled, and his smile became a grin, and his grin became a chuckle, and soon he was laughing uproariously, almost maniacally.
Jeannie caught the humor in the situation, too. She began to join his laughter with her own, and Jeremy and Chris stood there bewildered.
"What's so goddamned funny?" Jeremy said, his eyes blazing with anger.
"It's so ridiculous, so fucking absurd! The four of us here like this, after last night; after everything else that's happened. It's the most far-out, bizarre situation I've ever seen. Don't you understand, Chris? Jeremy?"
They both saw it then, and they relaxed immediately. Soon the four of them were laughing crazily. The heat was off.
Jeannie fixed coffee for the four of them, still wearing only a sheet. She was thrilled to find that she was most definitely still under contract. Nothing had changed except the name of the album: One Hell of A Woman. She looked at Reeve affectionately, and he thought he detected a tear in her eye.
"Do you think you can write a song to go with it, Jeremy?" he asked the young man.
"Is a rabbi Jewish?" he said, squeezing Jeannie around the waist.
"By the way, Jeremy," said Reeve after the concert was signed, "I've already got the title for your first album, if it's OK with you."
"You're putting me on, man. What is it?" he said, looking at Reeve warily.
"It's 'Jeremy and A Girl Called Gypsy'."
Jeremy gave a quick look to Chris, who looked at Reeve. His eyes told her more in a moment than he could tell her in a thousand years. She ran to him and they embraced each other with deeply felt emotion.
Jeannie looked at the handsome couple, who were obviously very much in love. How beautiful they looked together; how right they were for each other. She could have envied them, and in a way, she did. But more importantly, she felt grateful for what she had shared with Reeve -- even though it was mere lust. He had given her something of value, and she knew she had been more than just a sex partner for him. She had helped him grow up a little, just as Jeremy had been instrumental in freeing Chris from the terrible, stultifying shackles of misguided rearing. And she knew, deep down, that she could never have married Reeve, even if he had divorced his lovely wife -- they were of two different worlds, and hers left no room for a permanent relationship with a man; not while there were delectable cocksmen like Jeremy Stokes around!
Reeve extended his hand to Jeremy before parting. "Jeremy, you've got a great future. Welcome aboard."
"His past is nothing to sneeze at, either!" piped Chris.
Reeve looked at her incredulously. She was really coming out of herself now in the most delightful way. "Why you little devil!" he said, picking her up in his arms. "Do you know what I'm going to do to you?" He whispered something in her ear that made her eyes widen and her face blossom into an ecstatic smile. "Wow!" she cried.
"You can do it here, if you like." Jeremy said with a knowing grin.
Reeve looked at his beautiful wife. Then he turned to Jeremy. "Thanks, but there are some things a man just has to do in private."
Chris took a playful nibble at his ear. "Are you sure?" she said suggestively.
Reeve looked at her, then at Jeannie, then at Jeremy. He looked at his wife again. "Yes," he said firmly. Then to the couple who had saved their marriage: "But if I change my mind, and I might, you two will be the first to know!" And he carried his sexy young wife out the door and down the stairs and into a beautiful new life together.
