It has become a cliche for city dwellers in our hectic world to turn into hermits, to hide behind their locked doors, security gratings, guard dogs ... a cliche, but nonetheless real. And little wonder! They are assaulted, both physically and mentally, by their fellows all hour, from all directions. Though some of this assaulting is done by criminals, most of it is done in the guise of legitimate business. Door to-door sales people of all ages haunt the streets, trying to get their foot in someone's door, trying to put the hard sell on them. Similar assaults come in the mail, in the form of unasked for sales brochures, which are little better than veiled threats, and worst of all, assaults come over the phone. Dozens of times a day phones ring in urban homes. Usually, the occupants are at work, but if they are unlucky enough to be at home, they will, upon picking up the phone, be addressed by name and then asked if they are "the homeowner." These kind of sales people are only interested in customers with real property, assets that can be attached if need be.
If it is a wretched state of affairs for the recipient of the unwanted intrusions, imagine what it must be like for the poor sales person!
The heroine of the following novel is just such a sales person, a young woman with high hopes for success in the field, but with little knowledge of how it actually works. As she discovers how much of herself she must give to her customers to sell the merchandise, she is first horrified, then, curiously attracted to the idea. What she, what perhaps all of us are looking for in. a world of barred windows and triple-locked doors, is just a little simple human contact. This book is offered in the hope that it might shed some light on one disturbing aspect of our human dilemma.
-The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
Shandra Blaine walked up the red cement steps to the front porch of the little Spanish style bungalow. Her feet hurt and she was hot in her light gray suit, but she managed to work up one more smile. She held the grin, as if she were afraid she'd lose it, and she rang the doorbell.
After a bit, there was the sound of a bolt being thrown back and the door opened a tiny crack.
"Yes?" said a small, high-pitched voice. It was coming from a point about a foot lower than Shandra's face.
"Good afternoon," Shandra said, fairly gushing with good natured charm. "My name is Shandra Blaine. I represent the Ezee Clean Corporation, which manufactures and distributes home cleaning supplies. Perhaps you've seen our ads on TV?"
The door opened a little wider and Shandra could see that the person she was addressing was a shriveled old lady dressed in a tattered pink nylon housecoat and shabby, faded pink mules. The woman made no audible response to her question. Shandra went on, automatically.
"We have some fine products that can make housework much easier and quicker," she said. "You can get nasty chores, like the bathroom bowl and the oven, out of the way and go on to doing the things you want. Ezee Clean means just that: less work for you."
"What else do I have to do?" the old lady said.
"Ma'am?" Shandra asked, unsure exactly what the woman's comment referred to.
"What else do I have to do but clean house?" the old lady said, with irritation in her voice. "My husband passed away two years ago ... and even when he was alive that's all I ever did ... clean house. Who's going to come and take me out of here? Who's going to drag me to a disco or take me on a weekend to Acapulco? Huh, answer me that? Sergio Franchi? Don Ho? DAMNIT! I'm trapped here! I'm going to die here. And the only thing that keeps me from going out of my mind is that I still have my life's work, my housework to do."
Shandra was visibly shaken by the woman's tirade and the smell of disinfectant wafting out at her from the cool, dark confines of the house made her feel queasy. Gripping her briefcase handle in both hands, she gamely tried to turn the woman's arguments around, as she'd been trained to do.
"If you really do all that much housework, I don't see how you can do without Ezee Clean Products," she said, trying to maintain her friendly smile. "If you'd like, I could show you our catalogue. I think you'd be positively amazed at the break throughs in home science."
"You don't understand," the woman said, her voice getting higher in pitch. "I don't want to do the damn work faster. I want to do it slower. When I work, I don't think about what's happened to me, about what's ahead. I just scrub and scrub and turn off my mind. The slower I work, the more work I have to do. Do you understand?"
"I ... uhh ... I think every woman has those same feelings from time to time, ma'am, Shandra said, fighting to concentrate. "And I think many of them cope with the problem by taking pride in their work, in the kind of job they do. That's why using a good home cleaning product can be so important ... to your self respect."
The little old lady opened the door a full foot and peered up at her. The ashen face was a mass of tight wrinkles, the pale lips almost indistinguishable from the surrounding flesh. "Why, you're crazier than I am!" she announced. Then she slammed the door shut in Shandra's face.
The door-to-door saleslady stood there, trembling for a long awkward moment. Then she walked abruptly off the porch and down the walk, back to the sidewalk.
Los Angeles was a bad place to sell door-to-door. It seemed to her, after her first four hours on the job, that fully three-quarters of the people she'd seen were difficult to sell to. In a half a day, she had not only not sold anything, but she'd only gotten five people to open their front doors to her and none of them would let her into their homes. The rest of the people whose doorbells she rang either pretended not to be home ... she could hear them breathing on the other side of the door or see them peeking out at her around the edge of the curtains ... or shouted at her through the door to get off their property or they'd call the police. It was, to say the least, an inauspicious beginning to a new career.
The 25 year old blonde saleslady had spent sever, years of her life behind a desk, working as a secretary for a machine parts company in the City of Commerce. She decided, after the seventh office Christmas party and the umpteenth time her boss tried to put the make on her, that she'd spent enough time sitting on her duff. What she needed, she decided, was to get out on her own, to meet people, to interact with them, to make a living by hustling, by her own wits. It was a quarter past one on her first day of "living by her wits," she was exhausted, she hadn't made a dime, and she was beginning to wonder if she hadn't made a terrible mistake.
More out of conditioning than desire, she trudged up the walk to the house next door. All the houses in the area had been built at the same time, part of the same development and they looked at if they'd been popped out of a mold. The only differences between one house and the next were in the color scheme and the landscaping. The front yard of the house she was approaching was made up crushed red cinder brick; it was one of those low-maintenance lawns where the only thing green was the band of astro-turf that covered the otherwise empty flower beds. She rang the bell and collected her smile.
There were heavy, shuffling sounds from inside the house and then the door opened. A huge man stared down at her, his small, dark eyes lighting up when he saw how appealing she was.
"Good afternoon," she said. "My name is Shandra Blaine. I represent the Ezee Clean
Corporation, which manufactures and distributes home cleaning supplies. Perhaps you've seen our ads on TV?"
The man, who was dressed in a white, athletic t-shirt and khaki trousers, was no longer looking at her face. He was only viewing the lush curves of her bosom, the narrow waist, the womanly swell of her hips. The interest he was taking in her body made Shandra more than a little uncomfortable. She tried not to show it, though. She also tried not to stare back at him, or more specifically, at the thick tufts of black hair that sprouted from the ends of his broad shoulders like epaulettes. His whole body was extremely hairy, arms, hands and his face, though clean shaven, showed a blue-dark shadow on his chin and cheeks.
"TV?" he said, raising his eyes from her long legs, looking her in the eye. His thick, sensual lips parted into a broad grin, his dark eyes glittered. His hair was thinning a bit on top, but he was not an unattractive man, if one liked the throw-back type.
Shandra didn't know if she liked the type or not; she was a bit taken aback by the sheer bulk of the man, by the power in his chest and arms.
"Yes" she continued, trying to steer his interest from her body to what she was selling. "Ezee Clean sponsors two early afternoon games shows. Maybe you've seen them? 'Money Talks and 'Ouija Bingo' ! ? "
The big man shook his head. "I'm usually not at home during the day. I work. Today's unusual for me." He leaned against the doorframe, propping himself up against it with his upraised hand.
Shandra stared at the mass of hair under his arm, then jerked her gaze back to his face. He was leering at her again. She decided that she definitely didn't like his type, after all.
"What are you selling?" he asked.
"Ezee Clean manufacturers a whole line of products for just about every home cleaning job imaginable," she said. "Not only brushes and different kinds of cleaning agents, but also glues and other home repair items."
"You got all that in there?" he asked, pointing at her briefcase. He then pushed his hand in his pocket, deep in his pocket.
Shandra found herself following the path of his hand, watching him casually scratch his genitals. "Oh, no!" she exclaimed feeling her face flush with embarrassment. "I couldn't possibly carry samples of all the different products. I'd need a trailer truck! As your saleslady, I just carry the company catalogue and an order blank. The customer is supposed to look through the catalogue, decide what he or she wants then I order it and deliver it personally."
"I already know what I want," the man smiled knowingly looking at the steep-sided cones of her breasts and moistening his lips with the tip of his red tongue.
"What?! " Shandra said, recoiling.
He laughed at her. It was hardly a pleasant sound. "I've been trying for months to get the yellow off my kitchen linoleum," he said. "If you've got something that will do the trick, I'll take it."
"Yellow stains or yellow from the old wax?" she asked, her face blushing even more as she realized how foolish she must've seemed to him.
"Wax? Stains? Hell if I know," he told her. "I'm really not much for house work. Ask me something about auto parts and I can talk your head off."
"Oh," she said.
"Why don't you come on in and have a look at it?" he suggested, standing aside and gesturing with his massive arm. "You're the expert, right?"
Shandra didn't want to go in the man's house. She'd been pounding on doors all day long, trying to get in somebody's house and now that she had the chance to make her first sale, she was balking. There was something about him, an undercurrent of violence he gave off that bothered her.
"Hey, I'm not going to attack you or anything," he assured her, grinning at her obvious fear. "Come on in."
Shandra laughed at his remark. He'd put the whole thing out in the open and out in the open it looked pretty damn stupid. The guy lived in a nice, quiet neighborhood. He had a job. She couldn't really imagine anybody like that, no matter what he looked like, assaulting her in his own home. How in the world, she asked herself, was she ever going to get into the swing of the door-to-door selling trade if she was afraid to go into a stranger's house?
"Thank you," she said, stepping by him and into a little hallway.
The man closed the door and turned towards her. As he did, Shandra got a horrible defenseless feeling. He was huge and he was standing between her and the door! She steeled herself once more and once more was reassured when he didn't leap on her and start tearing her clothes off.
"The kitchen's through here," he told her leading her through the living room. The place was furnished from Montgomery Wards, all in Early American and Herculon plaids. He took her into the kitchen and turned the light on so she could see better.
"Hmmmmmm," she said, looking at what appeared to be a brand new floor, her heart suddenly trying to climb up out of her mouth.
"It looks OK in certain light," he admitted, getting down on one knee and peering at it. "But in others, there's these big yellow blotches. See?"
"No, I don't," she said, stiffly, holding her briefcase out in front of her like a shield.
The man straightened up, then he smiled at her. "I guess there's no point in beating around the bush with you, is there?" he said flatly.
Shandra took an immediate step backwards and bumped into the edge of a countertop.
"Hey, don't get nervous," he said, easily.
"I'm not," she lied.
"I didn't get you in here to look at the damn floor," he confessed. "Hell, I just put it in two weeks ago. I got you in here because I have the rest of the day off and the wife is over in San Berdoo visiting her mother."
"I think I'd better go now," she said hopefully, edging towards the kitchen door.
He stepped in front of her, blocking her way. "I like your body," he said, letting his eyes roam over the lush contours of "You and me, we could have us some fun this afternoon and no one would be the wiser. How about it? I won't let you down. I promise you that. I really know what to do to make a woman happy. It's guaranteed."
Shandra's face turned bright red. "No, thank you," she said. "I must go now."
"You think I'm kidding, don't you?" he said, reaching down and adjusting his genitals through the front of his trousers.
Again, the movement made Shandra look, again, she was shamed.
"Well, I'm not. I can make you cum so many times that you won't be able to see straight. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
He only made a slight move in her direction, but she caught it and jumped away, flattening herself against the refrigerator. She was terrified. She knew that her terror was not going to help her. She had to attack, to unnerve him, to assert herself.
"If you come near me, I'll start screaming," she warned him a hysterical edge: creeping into her voice. "I want to leave and I want to leave now."
"Wow! No need to get so uptight," he laughed without humor, raising his hands to her in a gesture of submission. "All I ever wanted to do was fuck you. If you don't want to screw with me, that's OK, too. Come on, I'll show you out."
Shandra's legs were shaking as she followed him back into the living room. She really thought she was going to get out of the house unscathed.
She walked into the little foyer, fully expecting him to open the front door and let her go.
Instead of opening the door however, he turned and with a blinding maneuver, caught her upper arm in his vise-like grip. She was so startled she didn't know what to do.
"If you make so much as a whimper," he said, emphatically squeezing on her arm, "I'll break it."
She knew he could do it, too. The pressure he was putting on her arm was already enough to bring tears to her eyes. He'd somehow managed to shut off all the blood to her forearm and hand and it throbbed agonizingly.
"Understand?" he growled at her.
Shandra nodded rapidly, her eyes numb with shock.
"Good," he said. Then he shoved her ahead of him, down the hallway in the opposite direction to the door.
She moved like an automaton, moaning softly at the hurt he was giving her. She was forced around a corner that led into another hall and then through an open doorway on the right.
"Sorry, I didn't get a chance to make the bed," he smirked.
She stared at the rumpled double bed, the cover half hanging onto the floor, the sheets badly wrinkled and stained in a broad swatch of gray about two-thirds of the way down from the pillows.
He saw what she was looking at and he laughed. "Yeah, the wife and I screw a lot," he said. "She's good at it, too. I taught her everything she knows. I like fucking her, but every once in a while a guy needs something new to screw, you understand!"
All Shandra understood was that she was his helpless victim, that he plainly intended using force, brutality to make her submit to his sexual advances.
"Why don't you lay down?" he suggested tightly. He didn't wait for her answer but shoved her from him with awesome power.
She flew across the room and landed half on, half off the bed, belly down. She bounced and then was still. The sheet under her face was unclean. It smelled of love making and sweat.
"TAKE OFF YOUR CLOTHES," he demanded.
Shandra turned to gape at him, her expression pleading, begging him to let her be.
"I'm going to take off mine," he announced, quickly peeling the tight t-shirt up over his head, wadding it up and tossing it over in the direction of the dresser.
She stared at the muscles of his chest in horror. They were immense, jutting bulges and they were covered with a dense matting of black hair. His nipples were a lewd red under the dark fur.
"You like, huh?" he said, flexing his arms for her, making the muscles jump, the thick, blue veins bulge. "I'm ALL MAN and that's no lie, baby." He reached dramatically for his fly.
Shandra WANTED to be sick. She WANTED to keep from looking at him disrobe. She did neither. She lay there perversely fascinated as the big man rolled his trousers down over his hips, exposing the hairy, washboard flatness of his stomach, his obscene male bikini underwear that formed a distinct outline about his gargantuan male parts.
He kicked off his pants and stood there in his tiny shorts, posing for her. Then he patted his genital bulge and said, "It sure IS something, isn't it?"
She could not tear her eyes away from it. Outlined against the red cotton was the shape of his penis, a huge fire hose of a member that sort of curled to one side. Under it, held up by the supporting shorts, were his bloated testicles, bulging out from his loins like the parts of a bull or a stallion. Shandra began to pray.
The man rolled down his skimpy underwear and stood before her totally naked. She took one look at his bare cock and let out a little squeal of horror and revulsion. It was the biggest thing she'd ever seen! His shaft was thick like a club and it was a greasy, mottled yellow brown color. It looked used and abused, wizened. Fat veins bulged from its underside and there were lots of hairs on it, long, thick hairs, so that it looked vaguely like a bristle brush. The head was bulbous and a fiery, almost feverish red hue. It was shaped like a plum and looked to her to be about as big across as her clenched fist. From the deep slot in its face leaked something thick and white and glistening. Dangling beneath the limp penis were his pendulous gonads. The scrotal sack was the same, red color as the huge cockhead. It hung practically all the way down to his mid-thigh, stretched by the weight of the twin goose eggs that it contained. Even as she stared at his loins, those heavy balls began to shift, rotating sluggishly behind the raw chicken-skin bag, drawing up closer to his groin, and the nasty fire hose gave a lazy twitch, visibly pulsing.
"I know just what to do with it, too, baby," he said, cupping his testicles in his palm and bouncing them, watching gleefully as his cock began to grow faster, to push out from his loins obscenely.
It grew not only in length, but in thickness, too. Throbbing, pulsing, straining until it was a grossly fat sausage. Then he wrapped the fingers of his other hand about the shaft and began to pump himself, to masturbate right in front of her.
"Noo!" she whined, but she didn't look away. She watched his clenched fist slide up and down the rubbery shaft, making the loose outer sheath of skin bunch up behind the flaring head in a thousand tiny wrinkles. The effect of his self-abuse instantly became apparent. His cockhead bloated out, filling with blood, the velvety skin expanding until it was as shiny as the skin of an over-inflated red balloon. His shaft hardened in his palm, arching up out of his fist like an enraged banana. She could see the sinews jerking taut, see the pounding pulse just under the fat rim. It was as if he'd awakened some strange creature, some separate being that lived there in the dense hair of his crotch.
He let go of himself and his cock did not droop down. Instead, it snapped up, the broad head slapping against his hairy chest, the underside facing her.
She shuddered. His penis was shiny, waxy white on the underside, shiny from being used so much. His testicles were no longer pendulous. They'd snuggled up against his body; they were READY for action. More horrible to her than either of those features was the shape of the member, itself. Though it was incredibly big at the tip, it was even BIGGER at the root. It flared out at the bottom like a tree trunk and the thought of being impaled on such an instrument, of having to accept the lewdly thickening shaft, made her head swim.
"Now it's time for you to strip," he said, stepping towards her. His cock dropped from against his sternum, then snapped back as if held by rubber bands. When it impacted, it made a heavy, meaty sound.
Shandra shook her head, her lips now dry with fear and when she tried to speak the words came out garbled. "Can't ... no ... please ... can't. . . "
"If I have to help you, baby," he said, "I'm going to rip 'em off you, understand? I mean, shred 'em. And when it comes time for you to go home later, all you're going to have to wear is a tea towel. Strip!"
She started unbuttoning the top of her suit coat. It wasn't the fear of going home naked that made her move and it wasn't the fear of him, either. What made her obey was the implied promise that she was, in fact, going to be able to leave, to go home after he was done with her. Everything would be all right, she told herself, so long as he didn't KILL her, so long as he let her leave.
"That's the way," he said, making a ring out of his thumb and forefinger and sliding it up and down the lower half of his penis.
Shandra shrugged slowly out of her suit coat. She wasn't wearing a real blouse under it, just a dickey with a lace collar. Under the coat all she had on was a sheer, tricot brassiere. She blushed horribly as she exposed herself to him. She could see the little hard stubs of pink at the peaks of her shapely breasts and she knew he could see them, too.
"Nice," he said, nodding. "Nice titties, baby. Take off the bra, too."
Shandra was a modest young woman. She had been raised by very strict parents who regarded the human body as a private thing. No one in her family would ever think of undressing in front of the other family members.
"Take it off honey or I'll rip it off," he said.
She reached behind her back and undid the clasp, very aware of the way the movement caused her to thrust her chest out, to shove her sleek breasts up at him invitingly. She was modest but this was no time for modesty. She had no choice. The brassiere came loose and the cups slipped away from her tits. Her ears burning, she pulled the garment off and held it in her hand.
"Man, oh, man, am I going to have some fun with those!" he said, licking his lips. His hand was moving faster over his erect penis and the white seepage was flowing more heavily from the tip, smearing all in his thick chest hair. "Now take off the rest."
With trembling fingers, she pushed up off the bed and unzipped the zipper to her skirt. The garment had to be then peeled down over her hips. As she bent over to do this, the succulent cones of her breasts hung straight down, jostling each other delectably, the nipples sticking out like pencil stubs. Under the skirt, she wore a slip. This, too, she peeled off, then the pair of pantyhose. When she straightened up, all she had on was a pair of turquoise blue lace bikini panties.
"Sonofabitch!" he said, leering at her smooth skin, her firm, slightly rounded tummy. He stared at the crotch of her panties. Through the cutwork in the lace, he could see the dark hairs of her pubic fan. He licked his lips again.
Shandra felt horribly dizzy, her face was on fire and she couldn't seem to breathe. She reached out to the edge of the bed to steady herself.
"You're NOT a natural blonde, I see," he said, glancing at her shoulder length, straight hair, then at her fork.
Shandra's face burned anew.
"You got black hairs on your cunt," he said.
"Hah, hah. That don't matter to me, though. It's what's under it that counts. Drop your panties and give me a peek."
His hand was going a mile a minute now and his breathing was coming in short gasps.
Shandra was afraid, she was mortified, but she did as he demanded. She rolled her panties down and stepped out of them, keeping her thighs pressed tight together and trying to cover her bare breasts with her hands.
"What're you standing like that for?! " he said. "Get on the bed and spread 'em. I want to see what I'm getting."
Shivering, she obeyed. She crawled onto the bed and nervously lay on her back, trying not to think about the awful, caked stuff on the sheets under her buttocks, trying not to think about what was going to come next.
"Spread 'em!" he snarled pounding on the mattress, making her body bounce in the air.
Whimpering, Shandra opened her thighs. She turned her face away from him and spread her knees.
"Wider! Lift 'em up!"
The tears came rushing from her eyes. She couldn't stop them. She hoisted her knees up, opening her thighs wider, letting him see all of her secrets.
"Man, oh, man!" he gasped, gawking at the mad cowlick of black hair atop her pubic mound, at the faint, downy sideburns that trailed down each side of her protuberant vagina, down each side of the petulant pink labia, at the smooth buttocks and the deep rear crack directly beneath the nadir of her sex.
The rasping sound of his hand flying over his cock grew louder and then the springs of the bed creaked and he was kneeling next to her.
"Don't be scared," he said, soothingly. "I'm going to make you happy, baby. I'm going to make you love me."
Something touched the nipple of her left breast, something warm. She tried to shift away from the thing, but her nipple was caught. She turned her head and looked down. He was playing with her hard stub with the fingers of one hand, rolling the hot bud back and forth between the pads of his thumb and forefinger, and masturbating voraciously with the other. Surprisingly, even alarmingly, his touch was not brutal and savage, but tender, gentle.
"Real nice," he said, thickly, palming her tit and massaging it, making the round mound shift on her chest.
His gentleness took her totally by surprise, his skill at manipulating her body awed her. Under his hot palm, under the friction, her nipple had grown extremely taut, extremely tender, and little flashes of heat shot down from it, down over her tummy, down between her legs.
"Uhhhhhh!" she moaned, shifting her hips on the bed, closing her thighs tight.
"You like it, huh?" he said, letting his hand slip down over her sleek rib cage, down over the swell of her tummy. His fingertips turned, pointed downward and he pushed them down over her fat pudenda, stroking the sparse cowlick of hairs.
Shandra shuddered and despite herself, reached down and caught his hand by the thick wrist, trying to pull it away, trying to keep him from touching her between the legs.
"I'm NOT going to take that kind of crap from you," he said, menacingly. "Get your hand away and open your legs or else!"
Her hands jerked back up to her throat. She didn't exactly open her legs as much as she failed to resist when he took hold of her thighs and shoved them apart. He pushed her knees wide open and then started stroking the silky skin on the inside of her legs, working his way up slowly towards her naked cunt.
"You look good enough to eat, do you know that?" he said hoarsely. "Do you know what I mean by 'eat'? "
She said nothing, made no movement.
"Has a guy ever put his mouth ... here?! " he said, sweeping his hand up and cupping the whole jutting hummock with it.
"UHHM" she cried, jerking at his touch, her hands fluttering helplessly.
"Have you ever had your pussy licked?" He lewdly caressed the lips of her vagina, rubbing them incitingly with the tips of his fingers and all the while masturbating a blue streak.
Shandra's face flushed crimson. The sensation of being touched, fondled in her most private spot against her will was the most degrading thing she'd ever experienced. The obscene questions were just the icing on top.
"You've been FUCKED," he said, gingerly peeling back the pink flaps, opening up the nadir of her slit and peering at it. "I can tell that. I bet his cock wasn't as big as mine. It wasn't, was it?"
Again, she didn't answer. She couldn't. She was shutting her eyes as tight as possible, trying to block out the reality of what he was doing to her. When his fingertip began probing into the mouth of her vagina, there was no blocking it. It hurt!
"Oww!" she cried, unable to stifle the cry of pain.
"Yeah, I guess you are a little dry down there," he said, pulling his finger back and examining the tip. He waved it under his nose and sniffed deeply. "Sure smells tasty, though."
She jerked her head away from him, so he couldn't see her tears. Every time she thought he'd dealt her the lowest insult, the deepest humiliation possible, held top himself and once again, she'd be destroyed.
"I'm getting hotter than a pistol, though," he said, pausing to pant. "I don't think I could even get my cock into you before I squirted the way I feel right now. Maybe you could help me out?"
She wasn't listening. She'd told herself that there was no way she'd actively cooperate with him. If he wanted to rape her, she'd be a passive participant, so much warm meat. She wasn't prepared when the big man jumped up on the bed and in one move, straddled her chest, then sat down, dropping his bare buttocks on her breasts.
"Unnnnnnhhhhhff!" she groaned, as the air was knocked from her lungs.
"Sorry about that," he said, getting up on his knees.
She gasped for breath and when she did, she got her first whiff of his loins. She choked, coughing. His crotch smelled musty and raw, and UNMISTAKABLY male.
He took hold of her jaw and forced her to turn her head towards him. She opened her eyes and groaned. He had his fist wrapped about the shaft of his cock and he was moving his crotch closer to her, as he moved, he bent the head of his penis down. It was covered with dribbles of milky white, like streusel frosting. Then, when the nasty red bulb was on a level with her mouth, he said the words she prayed he wouldn't say.
"Open wide!"
Shandra clamped her jaws together so tight that the tendons in her cheeks jerked and jumped and her lips turned all pale and bloodless.
"You're gonna SUCK ME OFF, baby," he said, "and you're gonna LOVE it."
To her horror, he leaned further forward, pushing the hot knob against her tightly shut mouth. The sticky fluid smeared over her lips and the cloying scent of his semen made her gag.
"Open," he said, putting his fingertips to the hinge points of her jaws and pressing hard.
A pain like nothing she'd ever felt shot through her head. She was opening her mouth, whimpering, kicking her legs, but opening it just the same. Then something slimy and searing hot pushed against her teeth, pushed over her lips. She thrashed violently, but she couldn't close her mouth, she couldn't keep the awful thing out. It thrust insolently into her mouth, pushing down on her tongue, out on the insides of her cheeks and up on the roof of her mouth. At first, she was afraid that she would strangle as he kept on rbtoi: : pushing his penis into her until the entire bulb was in her mouth, until her lips slipped over the flaring ridge ... and then she was afraid that she would live. The flavor of his cock hit her like a ton of bricks, singeing her sinuses, scorching her taste buds.
"Tastes real good, huh?" he said, his eyes slitted with pleasure at the feel of her warm, wet mouth wrapped about his cock, at the sight of his obscenely engorged member jammed into her lovely face, her cruelly ovalled lips. He gripped the root of his cock and milked his fist down towards her mouth.
Shandra's expression was one of total horror as she felt the thick fluid, still piping hot from his body, ooze out from the tip of his cock, out over the surface of her tongue. She was being abused, degraded in a way that she'd never even considered possible.
"Suck!" he demanded, letting go of his shaft and putting his hands on the bed frame above her head.
He loomed above her like some kind of salacious avenging angel, his penis poised on the verge of her virginal throat. She didn't want the awful thing to go any further into her body. She didn't care what else happened, but she didn't want that. She obeyed him, pursing her lips tightly about the neck of the lewdly bloated cock, drawing her cheeks concave about the intruding head.
"That's it!" he croaked, nudging his hips forward, making his swollen penis push through the tight, hot ring of her mouth.
The head of his cock pushed against the back of her throat and she whined, sucking harder, her mouth making obscene, wet, slurping sucking noises about the awful shaft.
"Oh, baby!" he moaned, pulling back, watching the blood red rim of his cock appear between her pale, stretched lips.
She nursed frantically on the domed tip, swallowing down the thick fluid that seeped into her mouth, hoping that what she was doing would be enough.
It was not.
"Yesssssss!" he crooned to her, thrusting his hips forward, making his wet knob glide over the back of her tongue, making it bore into her open, unguarded throat.
There was no stopping him. Shandra went rigid as the huge thing poured down her gullet, forcing the walls of her throat wide apart, filling it from wall to wall with horribly throbbing male meat.
"Uhhhhhh!" he gasped, pulling back, gazing rapturously as his penis slipped out between her lips. It was rubbed a fiery red and covered with her slick drool. He pulled it back until he could see his rim, then he lunged.
"Mmmmmmulp!" she gurgled about the lancing pole. Her lips were being crammed down about the much wider lower half of his cock, being ripped asunder as he plowed deeper.
"Ahhhhhh!! " he moaned, pausing, holding his monumental erection half buried in her throat, feasting his eyes on the ravagement he was giving her lovely face. It was unspeakably lewd! It looked like she was trying to swallow a telephone pole, a nasty, vein-marbled red Telephone pole!
Shandra was sure she was going to die. It felt like the hinges of her jaws were about to crack from the pressure and she could feel the tacky skin of his scrotum brushing the point of her chin.
"Suck!" he commanded, lurching back, lunging, starting to fuck into her mouth like it was a cunt.
She could not suck. She could not do anything but lay there and whine. The huge thing was jamming in and out of her mouth, thrusting in and out of her aching throat and the pain was blinding, numbing. She made no conscious effort to relax or to open her mouth wider, but her mouth did open wider. He was making it open as he tried to get all of his immense cock down her throat, wedging her jaws further and further apart with the tapering sides of his shaft.
"OOOH, BABY!" he bawled as he finally succeeded in totally impaling her, as her tortured lips slipped down about his root, as the crisp hairs of his pubis rasped her mouth, her nose, as his heavy testicles bashed her chin.
Shandra was beyond feeling anymore pain, anymore degradation . . or so she thought. Her ravisher was hunching madly into her face, smacking her mouth with his pudenda, fucking her throat so fast that he made her slobber well up out of her mouth and pour down over the sides of her face.
"JEEEEEZ!" he wailed, going stiff above her, his cock buried to the hairs in her throat. The pause was only momentary. He resumed his fucking at once, and as he did, he began to orgasm.
Shandra's hands balled up into tight fists as the first warm gusher shot into her mouth. It was awful! Horrible! And then she had to swallow it, swallow it or choke, as the second and third spurts followed. He was huffing and puffing, grunting like an animal above her, cumming into her mouth! Again and again she gulped the slimy fluid down, her senses reeling from the stark, salty taste, from the rank odor, from the awesome volume. There seemed to be no end to it. She had a horrible vision of his spurting into her forever, filling her belly with his semen until it burst from the pressure.
Finally, mercifully, the torrent slowed, then ceased. The man rolled off her face, rolled to his back beside her, gasping hoarsely. His wet, still pulsing penis draped itself along her collarbone. The horror of what had just happened a horror held in check by the pain that she'd suffered, hit her all at once. Every time she swallowed, she tasted semen, every time she breathed she smelled hot cock. Unable to take the full brunt of the degradation, Shandra fainted.
CHAPTER TWO
Shandra awoke to a strange sound and a stranger sensation. It was a moist, messy noise, the kind of noise a dog or a cat makes when it licks itself. She realized then that her legs were lewdly splayed and that something was happening to her pussy, something that sent little shivers of delight dancing all over her mound. She looked down to see the man kneeling between her thighs, his face pressed tight to the mound of her pussy, his wet lips, his wetter tongue coursing over her naked sex flesh.
"Wow!" she gasped, sitting bolt upright, as another of the tickles of pleasure lanced into her cunt.
The man raised his head from between her legs. His mouth was ringed with moisture and one of her pubic hairs clung to his glistening chin. He had been sucking her pussy for some time, of that there could be no doubt. He'd been sucking it long enough for his penis to fully recover from its journey down her throat. It stuck out stiff as a tree limb from his hairy crotch. He'd been sucking at it long enough to turn her pale pink petals a fiery red, making them swell up and out so that the deep, mysterious gash of her vagina was open, vulnerable.
"Hi, baby," he said, licking his lips. "Have a nice dream?"
She groaned and slumped back to the bed.
"You came once, while I was licking your cunt," he informed her, with no small relish. "You were squirming and thrashing all over the place, moaning like a bitch in heat, begging me not to stop. I didn't stop, either. I sucked your pussy until you finished ... and then I sucked it some more."
Shandra couldn't tell if what he was saying was true or not. Between her legs everything had become all sticky wet and her pussy was glowing like a little oven. She realized, with revulsion, that she could have, indeed, orgasmed in her sleep while he molested her.
"It's just right now," he said, putting his fingers to her opening. Without so much as a blink, he shoved the paired digits up into her pussy.
"Oh!" she cried at the stinging penetration, at the obscene way he was smoothing his fingers around in her body, rubbing them over her clitoris. They went in too easily, she told herself. And she knew that he'd told her the truth, that she'd already climaxed once, that she was loose and wet and ready at least physiologically for his big cock.
"Feels good, huh?" he said, working his fingers in and out of her cunt in rhythmic, insistent strokes.
She blushed to the tips of her ears. It did, indeed, 'feel good.' It felt a million times better that it should have. Every time his fingers sawed against her clit, shooting stars danced over her tummy.
"It's gonna feel a lot better when I get this up inside it," he told her, patting his throbbing cock with his free hand. "Then, you're going to be squealing and kissing me and fucking me back like you never fucked anyone before."
His lewd promises had a startling effect on her. Instead of revolting her as they had done earlier, they excited her. She began to see how it was possible for her to give in totally to the big, muscular man, and to enjoy every second of it.
"Uhhhh," she groaned softly as he gave his fingers a particularly vicious twist inside her, making them scour over the slick inner ridges and valleys of her channel.
"I'm going to iron out every wrinkle in your cunt," he said, fingers flying, plowing in between the gaping flaps, impacting against her pubis with such force that they set the firm flesh of her buttocks a-jiggling.
She gazed at the massive head of his cock, remembered the agony it'd caused her when it was crammed all the way down her throat, and she knew that he was right, that his immense cock would flatten the corrugations of her pussy and that she'd never be the same inside again.
"Turn over," he said, without pausing in his obscene diddling.
She just blinked at him.
"I said turn over ... on your belly ... then get up on all fours, just like a dog," he said.
She moaned at the mental image, but nevertheless obeyed. She moaned again as she rolled over, for the man didn't remove his fingers. He kept them jammed up inside her pussy so that she rotated her snug channel around them.
"Stick your ass up nice and high," he said, once again plunging his fingers in and out, in and out.
Shandra dropped her breasts to the sheet and put her bottom up, offering it to him in TOTAL subservience. Waves of pleasure were rippling over her pussy, down the backs of her thighs as he continued to masturbate her. Then he stopped.
"Hold still," he said, removing his sticky fingers from her vagina. He put both hands to her upturned pussy, putting his fingertips to the shining petals. He spread her open then, spread her open like she'd never been spread before. He peeled the full length of her pussy apart, making the hair fringed lips turn back on themselves, making the hot pink lining of her pussy pout out from her fork.
She knelt there for what seemed like an eternity in that humiliating position, while he peered into her sex and teased his finger around the moist opening. She could feel his hot breath gusting over her exposed flesh and those gusts sent chills racing up and down her spine.
"I'm going to FUCK the sweet ass off you," he babbled behind her, "but first. . . "
His fingers were back at her labia, tearing them even further apart, and then his face was jammed against her fork, his open mouth pressed tight to her pink orifice, and his long tongue surging up into her pussy, flicking her clitoris again and again, like a tiny punching bag.
Shandra buried her face in the sheets, moaning as the flicking tongue set off tiny erotic explosions between her legs. She tasted something incredibly sweet in her mouth and for a tense split second she felt she was looking down into pitch Blackness, as if there were a pit directly under her.
The man was going bananas back there. rolling his head, making the tip of his nose burrow into the cleft between her buttocks, making it poke at the tiny, winking ring of her anus. And his tongue was swirling, lashing about in her belly like a crazy, spineless cock.
Too soon to suit her, he pulled back, giving the outside of her vagina, the hair-rimmed, ragged petals a final loving lick. Then he was slipping his knees inside hers, wedging her smooth thighs further apart, scooting up so close to her that the front of his hairy thighs brushed the back of hers. But that wasn't the half of it. As he moved in, he pushed the underside of his scalding hot cock up between her curvaceous buttocks, making the wrinkly skin just below his slot, his nerve bundle, rub over her tense naked rectum. The feel of throbbing meat between her buns made her want to faint again.
"This is going to be fantastic!" he moaned, grinding his testicles into the open, seething maw of her pussy, coating them with the viscous lubricant of her sex.
Shandra clung to the pillow, clawed at the sheets as he pulled back, as the thick penis slid back through her tight bun valley, as the huge head came to rest at the very entrance to her passage.
"You want it, don't you?" he asked.
She shivered. He just couldn't resist rubbing her nose in it, humiliating her one last time.
He gingerly pried her buns apart with his thumb and middle finger. "You WANT it, don't you?" he repeated, and as he did he flicked her little pink pore with his forefinger.
"UhhhhhhM!" she howled, jerking, flinching, driving her face into the bed.
"That's what I thought," he said, with satisfaction. He let go of her buns and slipped his hairy forearm in under her waist, locking it across her hips so she couldn't jump away at the critical moment.
As he drew his arm tight, Shandra felt like laughing. She wasn't going anywhere. But he knew something that she didn't.
The man tipped his hips forward, forcing the head of his penis to nose into her slit. It was then that Shandra realized how big he really was. Her labia caught on the edges of the flaring rim and were turned inwards. It felt like he was trying to ram through her, not into her. The feel of her pussy opening up to him, the wetness, the heat, drove the man wild. He growled and lunged, snapping his hips viciously.
"YEEEEEEM!" she shrilled as the monstrous thing surged up into her pussy, throwing the walls wide apart, filling her with its horrendous girth. It was then that she tried to escape, to flee the hurtful root, the gut-rending shaft.
The man tightened his grip on her waist and bucked harder, faster, driving his way into her feverish tightness, humping relentlessly until he had her, until his lusty balls were pressed tight to the apex of her mound.
Shandra moaned balefully into the pillow. Never in her life had she been so filled! It felt like she was going to split open at any minute, split from pussy to navel from the awesome thickness of the thing pulsing in her belly.
"So FUCKING tight!" he wheezed, drawing back a scant half inch and lunging.
"Uhhh!" she shrieked. The incredibly broad root of his cock was grinding against her clitoris, grinding against it like it intended rubbing the oily little marble right off! Waves of pleasure billowed over her, dimming the horrible pain of impalement.
"OHHHHHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHHHHHH!" he said, pulling back further, feeling the slick drapery of her cunt tug, suck at his massive erection, feel the slithery meat tease his nerve bundle.
The feeling was incredible for Shandra, too. It didn't feel like her pussy was sucking at his cock, but it did feel like his cock was sucking at her pussy, the vacuum it left behind as it partially withdrew, sucking at her very guts.
He bucked into her, bashing his testicles against the well padded mound of her pubis, sliding his cock back into the tight crevice to the hilt.
Shandra cooed to the pillow, clutching it tight to her face. The hurt was totally giving way to pleasure and her humiliation, degradation of earlier was long forgotten. As her body stretched, yielding to the girth of the massive cock, her pussy not only stopped aching, but it started juicing. She could feel the warm, slick fluid dribbling from the upturned mouth of her vagina, drooling down over the tops of her thighs.
The man could feel it, too. He wallowed in it. He started rolling his hips, making his cock sweep over the slippery drapery, making her lubricant gush out even faster. Every swivel of his ass, made the lower surface of his cock rasp over her clit and every rasp...
"Mmmmmmmuhhhhhhh!! " she howled into the pillow. Joy was bursting over her loins, her cruelly plundered loins. The heat of his cock was like a red hot poker within her, scorching her insides.
His arm slipped from her waist and he slipped his hands under her breasts, scooping them up in his big hands. As big as his hands were, they could not completely contain her succulent mounds. He kneaded them passionately as he fucked her faster, his pubis beating a steadily more violent tattoo on her backside.
There was no doubt about what was happening to her now. His huge cock was darting in and out of her pussy as easily as a finger darts in and out of a Vaseline filled rubber glove. And her cunt was sputtering and farting about the plunging rod, her hot fluids spewing over the manly hardness of his bloated scrotum.
"Come on! Come on!! " he grunted, burying his face in her back, hunching like a wild animal, plowing into the delicious cavern of her pussy, mauling her heavy tits with both hands.
Shandra KNEW what he wanted. He wanted her to fuck him back, to shake her ass and hump his driving cock. But it was impossible. It was all she could do to remain on her hands and knees with his awesome bulk weighing down on top of her.
"You bitch! You dirty little bitch!" he growled, pronging her unmercifully. "You're going to cum, dammit! You're going to cum around my cock!! "
She knew it was true. She could feel her last defenses giving way, the emotional safeguards, the bulwarks against total surrender buckling. The whole length of her pussy quivered and trembled in anticipation, quaking about the ruthlessly plunging shaft, and between her legs there was an astounding heat, a glow that portended orgasm.
Gasping for breath, he pushed himself up off her back and sat back on his haunches, putting his hands to the firm mounds of her ass, pushing and pulling on them, forcing her to bob her bottom, to make his cock dip in and out of her pussy.
Freed from his smothering weight, Shandra began to move. At first she was tentative, fearful that she might ruin herself on the gigantic penis. But when her pussy slipped easily over the thing, she grew bolder, began moving faster than his hands commanded.
"Damn!" he said, watching spellbound as her yawning pussy gobbled up his glistening cock, the friction-reddened labia sucking, clinging to the skin of his shaft, pouting and puckering like the lips of a chimpanzee, beads of her clear, fragrant love juice rolling down the length of his penis, bathing it in slick heat.
"OHHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHH!" she whined, each impact of pussy to his pubis, each gulping of his huge cock, setting off the ecstatic detonations. She bobbed her bottom faster, greedy for the feel of his penis sluicing in and out, for the marvelous friction between it and her erect clit.
"Cum, you little slut!" he cried, ripping her buns wide apart, exposing the tiny puckering sphincter. He rudely stabbed his index finger into her rectum, twisting it, cork-screwing it into the rubbery depths of her ass.
Shandra wailed from low in her belly as the rough probe bored up her behind. It hurt. It stung something terrible, but it was not enough to make her stop humping him. She continued to lift and drop her ass, shrieking as she spitted herself on both his cock and his stiffened finger, as cock and finger stabbed deep into her body in unison.
The feel of her cunt sputtering about his penis, her rectum fluttering about his finger, the sight of her so willingly submitting to his basest desires, was too much for the big man to bear. Grunting like a hog at trough, he shoved his pelvis into her and started fucking her for all he was worth.
The impacts were so brutal that they drove poor Shandra's head against the headboard. From then on, there was no escaping the full brunt of his lunges. Over and over, he slammed himself into her and over and over, the top of her head bashed into the unyielding headboard. She whinnied and yelped like a whipped puppy, but it didn't do any good. He was sprinting for the finish, his cock flying through the quivering grip of her pussy, his finger twisting and turning animalishly in the snug cavern of her rectum.
THEN it happened. With the first, stunning spurt of his semen, that washed over the inside of her pussy like a wave of molten lava, Shandra began to orgasm. Her whole cunt seized up, strangling his slogging penis, bringing it to a grinding, ecstatic halt.
"YESSSSSSS! AHHHHHHHHH!" he howled as the rippling spasms sucked at his deeply imbedded cock, sipping the cum right up from his pleasure racked balls.
Shandra could feel her cunt flexing, squeezing him, and then the trap door fell open under her and she was falling, tumbling head over heels in to the abyss. As she spun, flashbulbs exploded between her ears, crackling and hissing, and the stark white light was her Joy, blinding, devastating Joy. She orgasmed on and on, each successive peak higher than the last, until her squeals of delight turned into one, long, unbroken wail of passion like a demoness, she fucked him, mindless of the constriction of her tumescent cunt, forcing his spurting cock to dart up into her body, rolling her hips to maintain the luscious cock to clit friction. His cum was pouring out of her plundered pussy, oozing out between the flipping shaft and the walls of her cunt, swaying in long, white streamers from the lips of her sex, dripping down the insides of her thighs in sluggish rivulets.
Finally, after half a hundred smaller detonations, the big one hit her. It leveled her consciousness utterly. The landscape of her mind was devastated. She didn't even hear her love partner's howl of pain as her cunt clamped shut, practically crushing his still-bubbling cock. There' was an awesome flash of light and heat ... and an indescribable surge of pleasure ... and then Blackness.
The feel of the bed springs moving under her brought Shandra out of her stupor. She was laying on her side on the rumpled bed. As she turned, she felt the sheet under her bottom. It was all cold and sticky from the love-making. It would soon dry to concrete hardness, love's sweet juices to a fine white powder. The man was dressing.
"I didn't mean to wake you," he said, zipping up his pants.
"Ummmmmm," she said, dreamily.
He looked at her nakedness and smiled. "You were really something, baby," he said, clucking his tongue at her. "I mean it. I only had it like that a couple of times in my whole life and I've had me a lot of women."
Shandra thought about getting up and using the bathroom.
He read her mind. "The bath is through that door," he said, gesturing with his hand.
She forced herself to get up and stumble to the bathroom, grabbing up most of her clothes as she did so. Once inside, she washed herself, toweled off, then dressed, except for her coat and brassiere which she'd neglected to pick up. She walked back into the bedroom naked from the waist up.
The man was sitting on the edge of the bed. He had her briefcase open and he was flipping through the Ezee Clean catalogue, marking off items on the order sheet with a pencil. He looked up as she entered, his eyes dropping to her full tits, to the sleepy pink bulls eyes at their tips.
"What are you doing?" she asked, bending down to fetch her bra.
He grinned. "Hell, I figure I might as well buy some of this stuff from you," he said, sheepishly. "like I said, you really did me righteous."
CHAPTER THREE
By the time Shandra got out of his house and back to her car, the afternoon was pretty well shot. As there wasn't enough time to drive to a different section of her service area, she decided to head back to the corporation headquarters, which was in a high rise tower downtown Los Angeles.
As she pulled onto the freeway heading east, she thought about all the products the man had bought from her, about the big check that was sitting on top of her catalogue in her briefcase. For the first time, she began to consider why he had done that and she felt instantly sick. Had he really thought he was paying her back for services rendered?! Had she sold her body to him for the price of a few stupid vegetable brushes and five gallons of floor wax?! !
She knew that if her folks ever found out what she'd done they'd disown her on the spot. But their scorn wasn't half as horrible as what she felt about herself. What really hurt was the fact that she was old enough to know better. She was no virgin, the big man had been right about that. Since graduating from high school, she'd had three different lovers. She'd lived with one of them for a year before breaking up. She had been around enough to know what men expected from lone women who walked into their houses. She had known the risk and had kidded herself into thinking that it was worth it to finally make a sale.
As she drove east, she couldn't help but wonder if that was what it really took to be a successful saleslady ... the ability to sell oneself, literally. The sales manager at the corporation had pumped up the new sales personnel with tales of the incredible amounts of money to be made by the persevering. She'd bought all that, lock, stock and barrel. She thought it was her first real chance to make it on her own, to prove her own worth. The thought of how she'd proved her worth and what she'd discovered she was worth left a bad taste in her mouth.
She exited the freeway near Pershing Square and drove to the underground parking facility at the base of the building that housed Ezee Clean. She parked near the elevator on the fourth level down and then picked her briefcase up off the seat and got out of her car. Her mind was already made up as she punched the elevator's "Up" button. She was going to turn in her catalogue and order forms and forget the whole thing. The next day she could go down to the Department of Employment and try to find something else, anything else, another secretarial job, if need be.
She rode the elevator up to the eighteenth floor, then got out. The doors opened onto the lobby of the Ezee Clean Corporation. The receptionist sat at a beech wood colored desk about twenty feet away. Shandra walked up to her and gave her name.
"I'm one of the new salespeople," she said.
"Done already?" the receptionist said, incredulously.
"And then some," Shandra said.
"I guess you'll be wanting to see Mr. Zeblin?"
Zeblin was the sales manager who mother-henned the new recruits. Shandra nodded and the receptionist buzzed the man's office.
"Mr. Zeblin says for you to go right in," the girl said.
"I know the office," Shandra said, walking past the desk and through the only door in the lobby. On the other side of the door was a long hallway. It was carpeted in a striped designed material and those stripes seemed to go on forever, all the way to the horizon. Mr. Zeblin's office door was open, so she walked right in.
"Ms. Blaine, isn't it?" the man behind the desk said, half rising from his chair. He was in his late forties, his hair was salt and pepper and his suit was Brooks Brothers. "Please have a seat. You're the first one to get back."
She sat down across from him and crossed her legs, holding her briefcase on her lap.
He didn't say anything for a long moment, but just stared at her intently as if trying to size her up. Then he said, "Well?"
"Well, what?" she responded.
He frowned. "How did you do on your first day?"
Shandra summoned up her courage. "Frankly, Mr. Zeblin," she said, "I think you over sold the ease that your products sell ... sell themselves, I think you said."
"Rough day, huh?"
"You made it sound like the people would fall all over themselves as soon as they saw the good old red, green and blue label."
Mr. Zeblin glared at her.
"Let me tell you, it wasn't that easy. Half the people wouldn't even open their doors so I could show them the damn red, green and blue. And nine tenths of the ones who did open their doors had never heard of Ezee Clean."
The sales manager picked a pencil up from his blotter and began tapping nervously on the edge of his desk.
"All that stuff about making five hundred a week was pure hogwash, wasn't it? Just something to whet the appetites of the suckers? Why, I broke my tail all day long and all I managed to sell was a measly fifty bucks worth!"
Mr. Zeblin sat up straight in his chair. "You sold how much?" he said.
"Fifty lousy dollars," she repeated. "It was the hardest work I ever did."
"Can I see the order blank, please?"
She gave him a curious look. "Of course," she said, opening her case, taking out the blank and the check and handing it to him. While he looked at it, she went on, "What I really want to say, Mr. Zeblin, is that I feel you misrepresented your product and the potential earnings of the sales job. What I want to say is, I DON'T want to work for you."
The wiry man's face jerked up. "What?. "
"I QUIT."
Mr. Zeblin quickly rose from his chair, walked over to the office door and closed it. When he turned back to her, he said, "Please, just a moment, Ms. Blaine. There are a few things you should know before you decide to leave us."
"Really?"
He winced at her tone. "Yes, really. For one thing, it's obvious that you don't understand how our sales program works."
"I thought you explained it to all of us before we started out in the field?"
"No," he said, "that wasn't all of it. At that stage of the game I couldn't very well tell the potential sales people that the areas we were sending them out to were totally unexplored, un canvassed."
"I DON'T understand."
"Normally, we only send sales people out to areas that have been phone canvassed beforehand, so we can cut down on wasted effort and pinpoint real potential customers. With the new sales people, we can't afford to do that. Also, it isn't really a fair test of their abilities if they're working on leads we supply."
"I'm BEGINNING to understand," she said, "You didn't tell us that in advance because if you did someone would have to ask what our individual chances of selling anything were."
"That's right. And I'd have to tell them that only one in ten would make any kind of sale at all. . . "
"You're KIDDING!"
" . . .and that the average sales for the whole day would only be ten dollars."
Shandra smirked. "I guess I didn't do as badly as I thought," she said.
"Sweetheart," Mr. Zeblin said, "you did better than anyone's done in three years!"
That stunned her a bit. She was flattered by his sudden enthusiasm for her sales abilities, but she COULDN'T forget what she had to do to unload the merchandise.
"I still don't think I want to sell anymore," she said.
"Wait, please," he said, holding up his hands. "Don't say anything, yet. I haven't made you the offer."
Shandra stared at him blankly.
"I'll admit that I fed you a bunch of bull at the indoctrination meetings," he said. "Think about it. I had to. Ms. Blaine, you wouldn't believe the number of turkeys we get in here thinking that they can sell our stuff. The whole sales training program is simply a screening device to skim off the cream. Once we have the cream, we make the offer."
"Offer?"
"First of all, you can forget about all the stuff I told you about our salespeople only working on commission. The real deal is a straight salary against commission with guaranteed bonuses after the sales reach a certain level. The salary is two hundred fifty a week plus a car allowance. What do you say now?"
Shandra was dumbfounded. She had been prepared to turn down a job with no promise of a steady income, a job where she might have to sell herself again to keep her head above water, but this was something entirely different. This was a sure thing, even if she didn't sell a damned toothbrush! It was an especially hard decision for her to make because she didn't have much money saved up. If she turned it down, there was always the chance that she might not find anything else for a while. The thought of having to go back and live with her parents in Reseda made her skin crawl. It was like admitting defeat. If, on the otherhand, she took the job, even for a few months, she could continue to look for other work and actually put some money away. Two hundred fifty bucks a week was a hundred more a week than she was making as a secretary.
"I'll take it," she said, swallowing hard.
"All right!" Mr. Zeblin said, beaming. "I know we're both going to be glad you made that decision. Now what we've got to do is get you over to the marketing research office and have them line you up with your first week's listings."
"It's done on a weekly basis?"
"More or less," he said, "Marketing will give you a batch of pre-screened names and addresses all in the same neighborhood. Once you run through those, you come back, usually in about a week, and get some more. It's simple."
"Sounds GREAT!'.
"Come on," he said, opening the door, "I'll take you over there myself. I want to introduce you to the head analyst. Fifty bucks in sales! Man, will he get a kick out of that!"
CHAPTER FOUR
The following morning, Shandra was out on her own again, only this time she was armed with the sure fire list of potential customers from the marketing department and the knowledge that no matter what she did or didn't do, she was still going to make fifty dollars for the day's work.
The neighborhood she was going to work was in a nice section of Los Angeles, near Beverly Boulevard and Wilton. There were some apartment buildings in the area, but it was mostly older homes, some practically mansions, but most simple, single family dwellings that sold for, inflated price tags.
She parked at the end of a palm tree lined street and got out her address list and her street directory. She quickly planned her walking route so has to not waste time or steps, then got out of her car and locked it.
The first address belonged to a stately California bungalow, painted white, with a green and white Mansard roof. She walked quickly up the walk, up the cement stairs to the front porch, which stood between two wide white wooden pillars, and rang the bell.
Immediately, a dog began barking in the house. It was a deep, chesty bark.
The door opened slowly and a little girl of about five, blonde and blue eyed stood there behind the screen.
"Hi, there," Shandra said. "Is your mommy at home?"
The little girl slowly shook her head. As she did, the owner of the bark swaggered up beside her. It was a white dog, short legged, thick across the chest. It had a strange-shaped head, the nose having no indentation at the brow but running wide and thick right down from the crown of the skull. Shandra didn't know ANYTHING about dogs, but she could tell from the bulging muscles on the top and sides of this one's head and the size of its jaws that it wasn't just a house pet.
"Do you know when she'll be back?" Shandra asked, without thinking leaning her hand against the outside of the screen.
The stocky dog roared and leaped, throwing itself against the screen, its jaws clacking shut less than a foot from the tip of her nose.
"God!" Shandra cried, jumping back.
The little girl's eyes glittered merrily. She reached out and patted the strange dog's gruesome head.
Shandra decided to go on to the next house. She was still trembling inside when she rang the doorbell. This house was the same size as the previous one, only it was made up to look like a little woodsman's cottage, with a steeply sloping shingle roof and dutch doors.
After the third ring, the upper dutch door opened and Shandra came face to face with a pretty young woman in a white string bikini.
"Good morning," Shandra said. "My name is Shandra Blaine and I represent the Ezee Clean Corporation. I believe one of our telephone people contacted you last week?"
"About the pool cleaner," the girl said. She had sun-bleached hair cut in a long fuck and her skin was a lustrous golden brown. About her long neck was a gold chain and from the chain hung a gold Scorpio symbol; it dangled in the sleek valley between her firm, high breasts. The triangular patches of her bikini bra cups did little to conceal the shape and color of her nipples. They could be seen clearly through the fabric. They were dark brown and the size of a quarter with fat stubs in the center.
"Yes, the pool cleaner," Shandra said, smiling. pretending to know what the girl was talking about. There had been no notation on her address list as to the specific interests of her potential customers. "I'm not sure that I understand exactly what your problem is."
The girl smiled, showing her even white teeth. "Come on in and have a look yourself," she said, opening the lower dutch door.
Shandra found that she felt no trepidation whatsoever in following the young woman alone into her house. She couldn't help but wonder if she'd feel the same way about a man.
The house was done up in antiques, expensive ones. It had a kind of cluttered feel that was honest and at the same time relaxed. She followed the young woman out through the kitchen to the back yard.
"As you can see," the girl said, pointing to the dingy color of the water in the kidney shaped pool, "it doesn't look very inviting. I've tried all sorts of pool chemicals and additives but nothing seems to work for longer than a few days. I can't stand looking at it the way it is, let alone swimming in it. Yuck!"
Shandra nodded sympathetically. She was VERY nervous. She didn't know anything at all about pools, pool chemicals, or the like.
"Well, what do you suggest?" the girl said.
Shandra hoisted her briefcase. "I think I should show you what we list in our catalogue and we can take it from there."
"All right," the girl said. "Why don't we sit outside. I want to catch the sun before the smog blots it out."
The young blonde turned her back on Shandra to pull a lounge chair closer. The saleslady couldn't help but notice what a wonderfully well turned out bottom the girl had. It looked like a perfect inverted Valentine's Heart, not too plump and not too lean. She had exquisitely long legs, too.
"Why don't you sit there," the girl suggested, scooting the lounge around and pointing at the chair to Shandra's left.
Shandra sat down and opened her briefcase, taking out the catalogue and flipping through it until she came to the section on pool supplies. Instead of taking a seat on the lounge chair, as Shandra expected her to do, the young woman stood by her side, peering over her shoulder at the page.
"My," the girl said, "you do certainly have a LOT of pool chemicals."
Shandra was very much aware of the heat of the girl's beautiful body. It made her feel slightly uneasy.
"What about that one?" the girl said, pointing at a picture of a white plastic jug and an accompanying block of type. She had very long nails and they were painted a dark, blood red. As she spoke, the girl casually slipped her arm around the back of Shandra's chair.
The saleslady's uneasiness grew by leaps and bounds. The girl was actually touching her and as she leaned closer to read the type, Shandra could smell the fragrant expensive scent of her perfume. The physical contact made her feel dizzy. The girl's skin was super smooth and very warm.
"No, I guess not," the girl said, answering her own question. "That one's for pools that don't get as much sunlight as mine does."
"Here," Shandra said, holding the catalogue up so the girl wouldn't have to hang over her shoulder to read it. She indicated a combination of additives that came in a kit. "I think that might be what you're looking for." She was relieved when the girl straightened up. The long-nailed hand still remained familiarly on her shoulder, though.
Shandra turned away from the touch and said, "Often as not, pool problems like you've got aren't the kind with one simple solution. Sometimes you have to treat a whole bunch of little problems to get it cleaned up." She didn't know what she was talking about, but it sounded logical and that's all that really mattered.
"Maybe you're right," the girl said. She carried the catalogue over to the lounge chair and sat down, letting her long legs splay carelessly as she re-read the advertisement.
Shandra glanced down between the girl's thighs. It wasn't something she thought about doing. The idea of it revolted her. It was an automatic thing, her gaze just dropped and she was staring at the girl's pussy. The crotch strap of the white string bikini was extremely narrow. It failed to cover the gently sloping edges of her pubic mound. On either side of the strap, curling about the edge of it, were soft tendrils of golden blonde fur. And the crotch band, itself, was so tight that it clearly outlined the fat donut of the girl's pussy, the thick outer lips, inner lips, everything. Shandra jerked her eyes back up to the girl's face, her own face burning with embarrassment.
The girl looked up from the catalogue, saw the sales lady's discomfiture and said, "Is something wrong?"
"No, no, of course not," Shandra told her. "Have you made up your mind about the kit?"
The girl looked back at the catalogue, as she did, she crossed her legs. Again, Shandra's gaze was drawn inexorably to the girl's svelte fork. As the long legs scissored, for a split second, the crotch band sort of wrinkled and collapsed, and the saleslady got a glimpse of something hot pink.
"Are you sure you're all right?" the girl asked with concern. "Is the sun too HOT? Would you rather sit in the shade?"
"No, no, I'm fine," Shandra lied. She felt horrible. Things were happening to her that she didn't understand. She was having strange thoughts, strange urges and she didn't seem to be able to stop them.
"I guess you're right about the kit," the girl said. "I'll take one. I guess I could use a new set of brushes for the cleaning equipment, too."
Shandra quickly jotted down the items on the order balnk, her fear momentarily forgotten. "Will the ones you stock fit my handles."
"Yes, of course," Shandra said. "Can I put you down for anything else?"
"No," the girl said, "I think that'll just about do it for me."
Shandra started to get up, when the girl reached out and put her hand on her arm. "There is one favor you could do for me, if you wouldn't mind," the girl said, staring into Shandra's eyes.
The saleslady had noticed how light a shade of blue the girl's eyes were, but she hadn't noticed how downright spooky they could be when they looked straight at you, or into you. "Why, uhh, yes, of course," she found herself saying.
The girl smiled. "I don't want to stay out here any longer without putting on some tanning oil. Would you mind very much doing my back?"
Yes, I would, Shandra thought. "No, of course not," Shandra said.
The girl reached down, picked up the bottle of suntan lotion, and handed it to Shandra. Then she lay down on her stomach on the lounge chair, resting her cheek on the chair's green plastic pillow. She bent her right arm behind her back and caught the clasp of her bikini top in her fingers. With a deft twist, she unsnapped it and the thin strap came apart.
Shandra was staring at the girl's sleek bare back, strangely unable to look away from the silky sheen of her skin, when the girl pushed up from the lounge and shrugged out of her bikini cups. The saleslady got a breathtaking glimpse of the smooth sides of the girl's breasts, supple cones of resilient flesh.
"Well?" the girl said, laying back down.
"Oh, yes," Shandra said, her eyes glued to the side of the young woman's chest, to the way her tits were flattened, pushed out under her armpits from the weight of her torso. She shook the bottle of lotion up and down and then opened the cap, pouring the honey-colored fluid into her palm.
"Sit down, next to me," the girl instructed her.
"Of course," Shandra said, taking a seat on the edge of the lounge chair. Again, the alarming images filled her head, images of female bodies intertwined, squirming, naked breast to naked breast, naked belly to naked belly. Without thinking, she put her hands to the girl's slim shoulders. The feel of her skin, warm and smooth, sent a shock racing up the saleslady's arms. She jerked back.
"Something WRONG?" the girl asked.
"No," Shandra said. But something WAS terribly, horribly wrong. When she put her fingers, her well-oiled fingers back to the girl's shoulders, Shandra got another strange surge of pleasure. It wasn't supposed to be that way, she knew. A woman touching a woman shouldn't have gotten that kind of feeling, not at the tips of her breasts and down between her legs.
"Hmmmmmmmm, that's nice," the girl said, sighing contentedly as Shandra stroked her bare back.
Shandra thought it was "nice," too, or rather, "too nice." She could feel her heart beating faster and faster as her fingers smeared the slick, warm oil down over the sides of the girl's rib cage, so close to the firm tits, as they swept down to her narrow waist, brushing the curve of her hips.
"Here," the girl said, "put some on down here, too." Her fingers plucked at the tie string at her hip.
To Shandra's amazement, the tiny triangle that covered the girl's bottom slipped off and she was gazing down at the bare, flawless moons. They were beautiful! And there was no tan line. All of it was the same golden shade as the rest of her. There were tiny little golden hairs at the hollow at the base of her spine. Shandra touched that spot with a fingertip.
"Oh!" the girl said, tensing, then relaxing. "Don't touch me there. It drives me crazy."
It was driving Shandra crazy, too. She put her fingers to the firm, cheeky mounds and began to rub the suntan oil over them. The buttocks shifted under her palms, the satiny skin so smooth, so sexy that she could hardly bear it.
"HARDER, please," the girl said.
Tiny beads of sweat were forming on the saleslady's upper lip. She felt itchy and uncomfortable. She rubbed harder, actually kneading the supple buttocks, digging her fingers deep into them. As she rubbed, her hands moving in opposite circles, she saw that what she was doing was prying the girl's cheeks apart. She was opening up her crack! Sandra moaned softly to herself as she saw the tiny rosebud of her girl's anus nestled in between the sleek buns, as lower down, she got a glimpse of soft blonde fuzz and hot pink.
"Uhhhhhh!" the girl groaned.
Shandra froze, clutching the buttocks in her well lubed hands.
"No, don't stop," the girl said, her voice curiously faint, distant. "Please, don't stop."
Stopping was the last thing on Shandra's mind. She was totally caught up in the steam heat of the moment. All of her preconceptions about love between two women were thrown out the window. It wasn't ugly and shameful. It was unbelievably exciting! She worked her hands lower, until she was pushing up on the girl's ass as she rubbed, pushing not only her buttocks apart, but her thighs as well. The girl moaned again as her legs slipped open, but she made no complaint. Shandra stared down at the girl's bare pussy, slack-jawed. It was living, visible proof that she was not the only one getting turned on by the little massage. The fat outer lips puckered out from the girl's fork, the fringe of hairs glistening, beaded with fragrant moisture; the inner lips were split, gaping, showing the hot pink lining of her cunt.
Shandra could not help herself. She slipped her thumbs in under the inner slope of the girl's buns, moving them closer and closer to the pinkly gleaming slit.
"Ohhhhh," the girl gasped as the thumbs bracketed the tender hummock of her pussy. She made no protest, NO EFFORT to evade the lewd caress.
The saleslady pressed her thumbs against the soft, damp hairs, against the well-padded mound, pulling them outwards, making the girl's slit gape wide open, parting it until she could see all the way up into her cunt, into the dark, wet hole amid the slippery pink flesh.
Shandra paused, then, panting, her heart pounding up under her chin, her own pussy glowing like a furnace between her tightly closed thighs. She didn't know what to do or how to do it. She wanted to do whatever it was, though; she wanted it enough to whimper plaintively, helplessly.
The girl guilessly turned over onto her side, making no move to cover her nakedness. Her lush, tan breasts beckoned to Shandra, the dark brown nipples, the sparse fringe of fur between her legs taunting her.
"Let me UNDRESS you," the girl said, pushing up to a sitting position beside her.
Shandra felt her fingers moving over the front of her suit jacket, light as butterflies. Then the coat was gone and the girl was gazing rapturously at her breasts in their sheer tricot brassiere. Instead of merely reaching around behind Shandra's back with one hand to undo the bra clasp, the girl slid both her hands and her arms in under the saleslady's armpits, pulling her into a tender embrace.
"Oh!" Shandra exclaimed, as she felt her nipples come into contact with the girl's. It was like touching two live wires together. Exciting sparks of lust shot between their breasts, delicious tingles of pleasure.
The girl unfastened Shandra's bra and deftly pulled the cups up, spilling her lush breasts out. The saleslady nearly swooned as her tits slid naked over the girl's. The sensation was so delicious, so exciting that she found herself wrapping her arms about the girl's back and digging in with her nails.
"Nice, huh?" the girl said, moving sensuously, making her firm tits slither over and between Shandra's.
Shandra could only coo, nuzzling into the hollow of the girl's neck.
The girl broke the spell. "Stand up," she said. "Let me finish undressing you."
Shandra stood, knees wobbling while the girl unzipped her skirt and pulled it off. When the girl rolled down her panties, when she stood naked before her, she had to reach out and take hold of the arm of the chair to keep from collapsing. She was more excited than she'd ever been in her entire life.
"OOOOOOH, YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL!" the girl moaned, ecstatically, her fingertips grazing the fluffy pubic vee between Shandra's thighs, grazing the black hairs that adorned her mound. She didn't wait for an invitation, but pushed the saleslady's legs apart and peered up at her naked cunt. "Ooooooh, darling!"
Shandra shuddered as she felt the girl's hot breath on her bare labia.
"I want to kiss you," the girl said, her hands sliding around to cup Shandra's ass, her face nuzzling right into her crotch.
"OH!" the saleslady cried, her hand automatically going to the back of the girl's head, her mind going to stark white as she felt the ferverent kisses rain down on her pubis, on her hairy hummock, on the sensitive lips of her vagina.
"Mmmmmmmmm!" the girl crooned, her mouth squirming down along the hair-fringed crevice, her nose burrowing in the tightly closed gash.
It was too, too deliciously wicked! Shandra caught her fingers up in the girl's hair and pulled her face against her pussy harder, lifting her right foot from the cement and putting it up on the edge of the lounge, offering the girl every inch of her fork.
The girl took it all, too. Moaning like a banshee, she began kissing and sucking at the fat lips of her cunt, nibbling at them passionately, mauling her bare buttocks with both hands.
Shandra could feel the heat rising in her loins, feel the petals of her cunt beginning to smooch apart, to yield to insistent sucking mouth. Groaning, she swiveled her hips, making the rapidly swelling meat of her pussy mash over the girl's face, making the viscous juice seep from her slit and smear over her hungry mouth.
"Uhhhhhhhmmmmmmmm!" the girl keened. her face buried in hot pussy. The taste of Shandra's cunt was strong and musky in her mouth and she had to have more. More!
A shiver shot up the saleslady's spine as she felt the wet, slithery tip of a tongue poke into the nadir of her slit.
"Nummmmmmmm!! ! " the girl gasped, sweeping her tongue up through the searing gash, licking the full length of the trembling woman's cunt.
Shandra was no longer pulling on the girl's head, she was clinging to it, hanging onto it like a drowning person hanging onto a straw. Every moist slurp of the girl's tongue, every squirming caress, made the tight-lipped slit of her pussy slacken, the fat petals puffing out, filling with super heated blood. She was coming apart! Coming apart at the seams!
"Oohhhhh!" she howled, her foot lifting up from the edge of the lounge chair, her knee bending, slipping over the girl's oiled shoulder. What she was doing was salacious, lascivious, depraved ... she was tipping her cunt up, angling it to receive the girl's waggling tongue.
"Muuuufffffff!! ! " the girl gurgled, planting her open mouth on the entrance to Shandra's pussy, stabbing down with her tongue, parting the hot buttered velvet like a knife through spoon bread.
Shandra stiffened, her back arching as the pebbly probe pushed into her, as it scraped over the rigid nubbin of her clitoris. Waves of delight danced in her loins and she was hunching, hunching like a bitch in heat right into the moaning girl's face, snapping her hips, bashing her bare buttocks into the girl's chin.
The ecstatic girl was oblivious to the hard impacts of Shandra's pubis against her mouth. All she cared about was getting as much pussy wrapped around her tongue as possible. To that end, she stiffened her tool, holding it out straight, and started bobbing her head madly, making her tongue flick in and out of the widening slit in a pink blur. As she tongue-fucked, she stroked the insides of Shandra's thighs, smearing the sticky combination of her own drool and the saleslady's love juice everywhere.
The rolling, twisting tongue drove Shandra wild, made her hump harder, faster, huffing and puffing, reveling in the sloppy, messy sounds that were coming from down between her legs, in the feel of the copious juices flowing from her much-sucked, much fucked cunt and trickling down her thighs. Every time the girl's tongue sawed over her clit, a flurry of pleasure would explode in her cunt and every successive flurry was more powerful, more devastating than the last.
The girl's cheeks were coated with glistening juice, puffing in and out as she thrust her head forward and back, as she gasped for air between lunges.
Everything seemed to be speeding up, snowballing. Shandra could feel her own heat going "dit-dit-dit-dit," like a machine gun. She could feel the sluggish, muscular contractions of her pussy gradually growing more rapid, more intense, until the full length of her channel was sucking at the stabbing tongue.
The girl could feel it, too. Every time Shandra's cunt squeezed she whimpered plaintively, whimpered for mercy.
Things were clearly getting out of control. Shandra was jerking about like a puppet, slamming into the girl's face so hard that she was actually knocking the lounge chair across the cement.
"Uhh! Uhh! Uhh!" the girl whined at each violent, animalish impact.
It was only a question of time before Shandra's enthusiasm would knock the both of them over into the noxious pool. The girl solved the problem by sinking her long, sharp nails into the cheeks of Shandra's bottom.
"YOW-EEEEEEM!" The saleslady screeched, all thoughts of orgasm, of lesbian love disappearing in the red haze of pain. She jumped back from the girl, clamping both hands to her raked bottom, hopping up and down to ease the hurt.
The girl said nothing, but merely lay back on the' lounge chair and let her legs splay over the sides invitingly, waiting for Shandra to return.
"Why did you..." the saleslady began, but stopped short when she got a look at the girl's pussy. Even though she had been the one doing the sucking, her pussy was in just about as bad shape as Shandra's. It hung open like the petals of a wilted orchid, gleaming with fresh juice. The scent of it made Shandra's mouth fill with hot slobber. She had a powerful urge to kiss the girl there, between the legs, to kiss her open cunt.
When she moved closer, kneeling on the edge of the lounge and bending down, the girl stopped her with a hand. "This way," she said, indicating that Shandra should kneel at the other end of the lounge, kneel straddling her face. "So we can do each other."
As Shandra climbed up on the lounge, careful not to kneel on the girl's hair, her love partner lifted up her knees and slipped her legs behind the saleslady's armpits ... so that when Shandra lowered herself down, the girl's cunt was tipped up at the perfect angle right under her nose, the perfect angle for maximum penetration.
Shandra plopped her own vagina down on the girl's upturned face and then thrust her mouth into the pink vortex. At the same instant, the keen, sexy taste of the girl's juices lanced into her palate and the keen, sexy spear of the girl's tongue lanced up into her cunt. Shandra moaned into the quivering, moist meat. The girl's tongue was going so much deeper!! And she could feel the tip of her nose burrowing into the tightly closed ring of her rectum.
The saleslady started doing what the girl had done to her, licking the entire length of the hot slit. The feel of the slippery flesh, the smell of hot pussy soon proved to be too much for her. She couldn't restrain herself. She jammed her tongue into the girl's cunt and, holding her mouth tight to the flexing orifice, she began lashing her tool about inside, sweeping its febrile tip over her fat clitoris, churning and writhing it madly.
The sucking slurping din was awesome. It sounded like feeding time at the hog farm. The two hot women ate each other like there was no tomorrow, smearing the sticky juices of their vaginas all over their feverish faces, sucking down as much of the tasty fluid as they could. Shandra was so aroused that she was actually fucking the girl's face, raising and dropping her bottom to impale herself on the darting tongue, grinding her juicy pubis over the girl's ecstatic features.
"Nummmmmmmm! Nummmmmmm! NUMMMMMM!! " the saleslady moaned, chewing passionately on the hair-fringed petals, gliding her tongue into the yawning furrow. The girl had gotten so sloppy loose that Shandra could hardly feel the walls of her pussy anymore. For awhile she contented herself with licking round and round the flexing entrance, then her eye happened to catch the elongated shape of the brown plastic suntan lotion bottle.
It was like a cock! like a gruesomely thick brown cock! Still sucking the mouth of the girl's cunt, she reached out for the bottle. Only when she had the thing poised, ready to plunge in, did she raise her lips from the gooey pie. In a blink, she jammed the thick neck into the wet slit, watching from a distance of eight inches.
The girl went rigid under her, her eyes popping wide open. She made a baleful shriek that was muffled by the flaps of Shandra's cunt and started kicking her feet up in the air. All her struggles were useless, however, as Shandra still held her knees behind her armpits, held her folded up like a lawnchair with her cunt totally vulnerable.
"Yesssssss!" Shandra hissed, jamming the bottle in and out, watching the wet lips of her pussy suck at the impossible girth. She was relentless. She kept on forcing the thing in and out until the girl's struggling ceased, until tiny squeaks of pleasure were audible coming from beneath and behind her, until the girl's cunt had so stretched that it could take the wider base of the bottle as well. She was fucking the whole thing in and out, her mind aflame from the lewdness of the act.
"UhhhhhhM" the girl shrieked, throwing her head back, getting her chin clear of the sticky summit of Shandra's pubic mound. "UHHHHM"
Those passionate cries were music to Shandra's ears. She continued, with no small difficulty, as the bottle had become horribly slippery, twisting and jamming and screwing the hell out of the girl's cunt.
"UHHHHHHM!" the girl bellowed, this cry different than those that preceded it, this one deep, from the bowels. She stopped kicking her feet and started squirming her ass frantically.
Shandra could see and feel what was happening. The mouth of the girl's vagina was visibly convulsing, clutching at the stabbing bottle and every time a spasm racked her cunt, Shandra's fingers slipped around the suddenly solidly imbedded dildo ... and the clamping pressure sent a spray of hot juice spattering over her face. The girl was plainly cumming.
"YEEEEEM!" she wailed, her eyes rolling up in her head as the Joy exploded in her loins. Half-mad with pleasure, the girl gripped Shandra's buns in both hands and wrenched them wide apart.
"Oh!! " the saleslady gasped as she felt herself cruelly splayed.
The girl didn't have to look to see where she was going. The whites of her eyes still showing, she stuck out her tongue, feeling with it, sliding it over the sticky hole of her cunt, sliding it up between the lewdly split buttocks, touching the red hot ring of her anus.
"YUHHHHHM!" Shandra bawled, her back arching as hot, wet lips, as hot, wet tongue devoured her pore. Ecstasy surged up her backbone and her pussy commenced to flutter like a sheet in the wind.
The feel and taste of rear end did something to the girl, too, something highly dramatic. She was so OVERWHELMED by the salaciousness of the act that her cumming pussy shut down with a vengeance on the slippery bottle, which was crammed three fourths of the way into it. Instead of the bottle breaking ... an impossibility since it was plastic ... it shot forth, powered by the crushing convulsion, bursting from her cunt with a moist, plopping sound and hurtling high over a very startled Shandra's head.
The saleslady took one look at the empty cavern, gurgled, then jammed her balled fist into it, forcing the pliant passage to accept its gruesome girth.
As she began to fuck her wrist in and out of the wet chasm, the girl somehow managed to get the tip of her tongue into her rectum. Once that tongue had its tip in the door, it was all over but the fucking ... and the cumming.
Shandra gave a yelp as the pit opened up beneath her and then she tumbled into the blackness, her consciousness racked again and again by the clear white light of climax.
The two women thrashed out their joy, grinding their greedy holes into the probes that spitted them, keening like new windows all the while. After what seemed like an eternity, they fell apart, exhausted.
"That was WONDERFUL!" the girl gushed, cupping her ravaged cunt in her hand.
"Ummmmm," Shandra said, her pore still tingling from the sawing pressure of that talented tongue.
"Oh, dear! I wish I could offer you a dip in the pool," the girl said. "Wouldn't that hit the spot?"
Shandra agreed that it certainly would.
"Maybe next time," the girl began.
The saleslady looked up at her. The look on the girl's face was terribly open, terribly vulnerable.
"Next time you come by to deliver my order," the girl continued, "we can fix the pool up."
"That sounds great," Shandra said.
The prospect of another session with the saleslady so excited the girl that she threw herself into Shandra's arms, pressing her sleek tits against hers.
Shandra shivered as the stiff, dark brown nipples teased her soft pink buds, poking into them, burning them with their fiery heat.
"I'm so HAPPY!" the girl exclaimed. "Really! I don't think I've been this happy since I got my wings."
"Your WHAT?"
"I'm a stew. A stewardess," the girl explained. "I feel so bad about not buying more stuff from you..."
"Hey, really..."
"No. I want to. Hand me your catalogue. There must be something else there that I can use."
CHAPTER FIVE
Again, the minute that Shandra left her "satisfied customer," she began to feel that horrible guilt and confusion. She couldn't bring herself to go on to the next house on her list, but, instead, walked back to her car and got in it. She turned on the radio, but didn't listen to it. She simply sat there her back against the driver's door, her legs propped up across the seat and stared at the check the stewardess had given her.
The amount had been written in a round, childish hand. It was a bigger check than her first, much bigger, but then again, she thought miserably, she'd done a lot more for it. Perversion had to cost more as it was harder to come by. It was the law of supply and demand.
What really started to bother her, to gnaw at her was the knowledge that she'd taken pleasure, lusty animal pleasure in both episodes ... and even MORE pleasure in the second than the first. She couldn't fit her image of herself, that of a decent, upright woman trying to make a living at a difficult job in difficult times, with what the events of the past couple of days said about Shandra Blaine. It was almost as if who she thought she was and what she appeared to be becoming were two utterly different people.
To make things WORSE, when she wandered back to the Ezee Clean offices later in the day and showed her daily tally sheet to Mr. Zeblin, he was ebullient.
"Fantastic!" he said, slapping the edge of his desk with her order blank. "I knew I wasn't making a mistake with you. I knew you had what it takes."
Shandra was LESS than enthusiastic and the sales manager immediately picked up on her mood.
"What's UP? You should be happier than I am, dammit. You're well on your way to collecting a percent off your over-age."
"It's nothing," she said.
He gave her a strange look. "Sit down," he told her, "I want to tell you something. It's something I only tell to my top sales people. It's a secret."
Shandra sat down.
"You don't have to feel guilty," he said.
"What?! " she gasped, her mind suddenly full of horror at the idea that he, that the whole damned company might know how she'd been making her sales.
"You heard me. You don't have to feel guilty about being a success. Sales is a funny thing. Either you can do it or you can't. If you can do it, it's easy as pie, like stealing almost. That's where a lot of my top people run into trouble. They've got this idea that if something isn't hard to do, if they don't have to break their butts for years to acquire a skill, then they don't deserve to have it."
Shandra remembered to breathe.
"Am I getting through to you?"
She nodded and tried to smile.
"I hope so," he told her, "because there's nothing that can kill a good sales person faster than guilt and I'd hate to lose anyone with talent. There's just too damn few of you around."
Despite herself, Shandra was flattered. She was afraid to tell her boss her REAL concerns, her REAL problem, but his confidence in her helped ease her mind somehow. She could imagine herself telling her problem to him and that was something. To have someone to turn to. She sure couldn't tell her folks or any of her friends. She rose from the chair and turned for the door.
Mr. Zeblin stepped up behind her and said, "Now go out there and knock 'em dead!" He punctuated his sentence by giving her a friendly swat on the bottom.
The next day, Shandra picked up where she left off, parking in the same spot, walking down the street the same direction as before. When she passed the little woodsman's cottage, she kept her eyes dead ahead. She didn't want to see the stewardess again, not ever. She told herself that that was ridiculous because she was going to have to return to the girl's house to deliver the pool stuff she'd bought and she knew it was true, but she couldn't bring herself to look over at the house.
The next address on her list was down about eight houses on the same side of the street. It belonged to a very sedate looking home, the small front yard immaculately manicured, the home, itself, painted white. It looked more like a miniature bank than a residence, with fluted columns and a heavy sculptured lintel.
She walked up the flagstone stairs and pushed the bell, glancing at her address list to make sure she had the name right.
When the door opened slightly, she said, "Mr. Shabazz? Mr. Ernest Shabazz?"
The door opened wider and a man in his middle forties stepped forward. He had iron gray hair and wore it long, over the tops of his ears. He was wearing a ruby velour bathrobe that came down to his shins. His chest, which was covered with iron gray hairs, and his legs, which were rather thin and pale, showed at the top and the bottom of the robe, respectively.
"I'm Shabazz," he said, his tone gruff, his manner almost accusatory. He stared at her with obvious distrust.
"My name is Shandra Blaine," she said, running through her brief explanatory speech.
"Well," he said, breaking into a grin, "I thought you were from the goddam finance company!"
Shandra blushed at that. She blushed because she knew that the way she dressed gave him that impression. She had always felt that a woman in business should look business-like and even when she worked as a secretary she leaned towards suits and unfrilly dresses. Even though her fine figure filled the suit out in a pleasing manner, she still looked like a process server or a probation officer. She made a mental note to try and alter her wardrobe ... she might be scaring away potential customers by giving them the wrong impression.
"Come on in," he said, expansively. "Hope you don't mind the mess."
Shandra followed the man into his house. It wasn't until she was inside that it hit her what had happened the last time she'd done such a thing. Following him in seemed like such a natural thing to do!
The house wasn't half the mess he made it out to be. Actually, it was elegant and only slightly mussed, ashtrays dirty, newspaper thrown around.
She glanced at her crib sheet then said, "I understand you're having a bit of a carpet problem, Mr. Shabazz?"
"Call me Ernie," he said. "Yeah, it's the carpet. I've got what you might call a traffic problem."
"I'm sorry?" she said. She was surprised at how at ease she felt in the strange man's company, in his home. He seemed a very friendly man and his house smelled clean and lived in.
"I think it would be a lot easier if I showed you the rug," he said. "It would save about a THOUSAND words."
"Of course," she said.
"This way." He walked ahead of her, his bare feet padding on the hardwood floors, his thin legs moving in a self-assured yet not swaggering way. He led her through the house, to a back room that looked out into the backyard, which was as neatly kept as the front.
When she followed him into the room, she did feel slightly funny, a little weak in the knees. She felt like she was re-living, or about to re-live an experience she wanted VERY MUCH to forget.
"This is my OFFICE," he smiled, waving at the cork paneled walls.
It was a very cozy room; it reminded Shandra of a tiny den underground, a place where some warm furry animal might live. There was a desk with a typewriter stand facing the floor to ceiling sliding glass doors and a single armchair.
"I'm a writer," he said.
"Really?" she said. "What do you write?"
He looked at her, stared her straight in the eye and said, "Pornography."
Shandra felt her face turn red. "How nice," she said.
The man laughed. "Oh, yeah, you could say that," he said. "Those are some covers off some of my books," he told her indicating the framed pictures on one wall.
Because she felt it was expected of her, and because she didn't know what else to say to the man, she turned and looked at the covers. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red. The covers were full color pictures of men and women caught in the midst of lewd acts. The detail of ruddy, gleaming cocks and sloppy wet cunts was absolutely clinical.
"It must be interesting work," she said.
Ernie laughed again. "No," he said. "It's boring as hell. Would you like to see my problem?"
Shandra turned towards him. Maybe it was the aftereffect of his "confession," of looking at the lascivious book covers, but his innocent question didn't seem so innocent to her. As she turned towards him, she glanced down at his loins. When she looked up, catching herself, he was staring at her with a curious expression on his face.
"Whoa, there," he said. "My problem is right under your feet."
She looked down. The rug underfoot was badly stained and the stain appeared to be a straight line, a band that ran from one corner of the room to the other.
"It's pacing," he said.
"Excuse me?"
"When I can't think of anything to write I pace," he explained. "As you can see, I've been pacing a good deal lately and the rug looks like hell. I've started going the other way, from opposite corner to opposite corner, but that doesn't do much to fix up the worn part."
Shandra knelt down and put her fingers to the nap. She straightened up. "No, it isn't really worn," she said. "It's just a stain, from your feet, I guess. Do you always walk around barefoot?"
"Yeah, I do."
Then that's why," she said. "Bare feet hold dirt a lot more than shoes. It gets mixed in with the body oils and then when you walk on the rug..." Shandra was making it all up again, but the writer bought it.
"I guess you're right," he said. "What have you got for footprints?"
She opened her briefcase up on his desk and started to take out the catalogue. As she did, she noticed the sheet of paper in his typewriter. There were about ten lines typed on it, double space. The lines read: "cunt was drizzling juice on him. He paused only a second, then he threw himself on the sloppy slit. Grabbing her by the hipbones, he thrust his face into her dewy fork, pressing liver-colored lips against her tender sex, rubbing the funky outer folds over his mouth.
"Bonnie whinnied at the feel of his face nuzzling between her legs, at the delicious sensation of his lips sucking at her pussy. Then his tongue flipped out and began making lazy circles about the turgid donut. So slow, so wonderfully rhythmic."
"Just like Shakespeare, huh?" Ernie said.
"Oh!" Shandra said, embarrassed that he'd caught her peeking at his work. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."
"Hey, it's all right," he told her. "Actually, it's kind of interesting. I don't know many people who read my books. I don't know anyone who buys them. I give some to my friends now and then, but I don't know if they read them or just toss them out."
"You mean, you don't have any fans?" she asked.
"Not that I know of," he said. "That's why it's a kick to see somebody reading my stuff. A writer gets to wondering after awhile if he's just talking to himself. Talk about your nameless terrors! I can't think of anything worse for a writer than to have an inkling that nobody's reading his work."
"You don't really think that, do you?"
"Not now," he said, grinning. "You just read some of it. That made my week."
"Is all your work so ... so graphic?"
"Sure. That's what they pay me for. Does it bother you to think about it?"
"Does it bother you to write it?"
Her turning the question around on him made him stop and scratch his head. "Sometimes it does," he confessed, taking a seat in his armchair. "Lately, I've been alone. The wife and I are in the middle of a divorce and I haven't had any girlfriends over. When you're alone and you start writing about sex, well. . . "
"Yes?" she said.
"You're really interested, aren't you?"
Shandra blushed. "I guess it's just curiosity, nosiness. I have no business butting in on..."
"It's OK. I don't mind. What was I saying? Oh, yeah, when you're alone and you start writing and fantasizing, sometimes it gets too heavy."
"You mean you get excited?"
He looked at her strangely again. "Yeah," he said, "excited. And there isn't any real person around you can turn to and look at and say, 'now that's a real person, a real woman and she'd never act like that, no real person would ever want to do a thing like that.' If you don't have some kind of anchor in a situation like that, it's easy to get carried away. "Carried away?"
"So wound up and excited that you have to get some release somehow."
The thought of this man locked up in his office, thinking dirty thoughts ten hours a day, getting so turned on that he practically went crazy made Shandra feel weak. She opened her mouth and a question came out, a question that she hadn't intended asking, a question she'd only thought about asking.
"Are there any fantasies that you have that you don't write about? Any that you're afraid to write about?"
He looked into her soul, then, and she could feel her whole body quaking, her fingers trembling on the edge of his desk. She was getting so excited that she could hardly stand up. She wanted to run out of the room, bawling because the tension inside of her was so powerful that it felt like she was about to crack open like an egg. That tension terrified her because she wasn't certain what she would do once she'd "cracked open," she wasn't sure who'd she be. She knew that by asking the question of him, she'd invited something.
"Down!" the man said, pointing an imperious finger at the rug in front of his bare feet.
He had taken her invitation ... the invitation to act out his innermost fantasy.
She moved towards him as if in a trance, slowly kneeling on the floor before him.
For a second, when she obeyed him without question, his facade seemed to break. "You're for real, aren't you?" he said, incredulously.
The fact that she was kneeling subserviently before him was answer enough for both of them.
"Strip!" he commanded, gripping the arms of the chair and pushing forward, leaning towards her, his eyes bright and eager.
Shandra knew that she would obey him, that she would do whatever he asked of her. She didn't know why, she just knew that she had to do it, that her will no longer mattered.
Her fingers fumbled with the buttons on the front of her double breasted suit coat, popping them open one by one until the lapels of the coat hung open. She paused, breathing hard, looking up at him with a strange mixture of fear and anticipation.
"Show me," he said, making a gesture with his hands that was unmistakable.
Shandra took hold of her lapel and flung the front of her coat open, showing him the fat, sex mounds of her breasts, encased in skin tight peach colored nylon cups.
"Jesus!" he groaned, his eyes narrowing as he took in the shape and condition of her nipples. They were all shriveled up, drawn up into long pink stubs that jutted out provocatively from the rounded peaks of her tits.
Shandra didn't wait for further instructions. She reached back behind her back and undid the clasp to her bra, letting the back strap snap loose, letting the cups slip from her breasts.
She knelt there, naked to the waist, her eyes downcast, her nipples hard, excited, her breasts rising and falling as she panted with excitement.
"More," he demanded. "All of it!"
The saleslady unzipped her skirt and pulled it off over her head. For a delicious instant, when the fabric of the skirt was covering her head, when she was totally vulnerable, when he could see her and she could not see him, she heard him make a faint, whimpering sound. That sound caused the short hairs on the back of her neck to rise. He, too, was getting excited. She wanted it that way. She wanted him to be so excited that he went crazy. She wanted to be the one who did it to him, the one who drove him mad.
She tossed the skirt down and started to peel her panties down over her hips, still kneeling.
"Yes! God, yes!" he groaned as the edge of her panty waistband cleared the soft fur atop her mound.
Then she was naked and he was eating her up with his eyes. His gaze was like a heat ray burning over her skin, licking at her crotch, her breasts. She slowly lifted her eyes from the floor and saw that something had happened to the robe over his lap.
Instead of it being flat across his hips, the robe stuck straight up in the air, as if there were a tent pole in under it. Shandra knew that what was pushing his robe out of shape was no tent pole, but his erect penis.
"Come closer," he wheezed, beckoning to her with his hand.
She squirmed forward on her knees and he flung his thighs apart.
His robe flared open, forming an open-ended tube, and she could see his inner thighs and that was all. The rest was shadow. She moved forward until she actually knelt between his out-flung legs.
"I have something for you," he said, his voice quavering from his excitement. "Something you're going to love."
Shandra whimpered. She was watching the lump in his robe jerk and twitch. There was no thought in her mind of the "old Shandra," the upright, respectable woman. All she could think about was how much she wanted to see his hard cock, how much she wanted to love it.
"Voila!" he said, throwing the lower half of his robe open, unveiling his lewdly engorged member.
The saleslady gasped, jumping back a tiny bit as the thing flexed towards her. It looked as if it had a life of its own. It didn't seem to be part of his body; it didn't seem to fit. It wasn't smooth and pale like his belly or lean and long like his legs. It was a fiery red sausage, a stumpy, but exceedingly thick length of meat. It looked distorted as if seen through a fun house mirror. The head was massive and flattened, crowned by a great, thick ridge of flesh, split by a vast glistening vent. The head was so horribly bloated with blood that its surface was shiny. The shaft was squat and thick and laced with soda straw veins, adorned with a smattering of warts. The underside of the shaft, which faced her as the thing stood up in his lap, was a different color than the rest of it. It was kind of a yellowish brown against the much lighter pinkish tan. All around the root of the fat cock was a ring of dense gray pubic hairs and beneath the ring, hanging down off the edge of the chair, dangling in mid-air was his scrotum. Two enormous balls hung in that inflamed bag, swaying slightly, shifting slightly as he breathed.
"What do you think?" he said.
"Uh," Shandra said, mesmerized by the obscenely erect staff.
"What do you think of it?! Tell me!"
Shandra began to speak, not knowing what she was going to say when she opened her mouth, but the words came tumbling out anyway. They were the words he wanted to hear. "I ... uhh, oh ... I think it's wonderful. It makes me want to ... oh ... It looks so thick and hard. It must ache! Oh, and it's hot. God, I think I'm going crazy! I just imagined how it would feel pushing into me. God! I could feel myself tearing! Honest. And when it throbs like that, I could just ... just. . . "
"Yes?! "
"SUCK IT!! " she bleated.
I'll
"You'd like that, huh?" he said, leering at her, his cock flexing at the thought, jerking up against the front of his robe then dropping back.
She didn't wait for any further invitation. She scooted further forward and reached out with her hand, lowering her face to his crotch.
"No!" he snarled, slapping her hand away.
She stared at him in horror.
"You'll do what I say, when I say," he said. "When I tell you to suck it, you'll suck it, and when I tell you to stop, you'll stop."
Shandra nodded, her adam's apple bobbing as she swallowed the thick drool that had filled her mouth.
"What I want you to do," he told her, "is to bring me to the point of release over and over and each time I'll tell you when to stop. Every time I get close like that, so close that I can taste it, you've got to stop."
She didn't understand what he was doing, why he was doing it. It wasn't important to her. If he'd asked her to stand on one foot while he fucked her ass with a raw carrot, she would've done it. It was important to him that she understand, though.
"When you do that, bring yourself up and then let yourself down without getting off, it makes the final getting off a million times better," he said, his eyes all feverish. "The Hindus do it that way. They fuck for awhile, then when it gets real sweet, when the old tingles start coming fast and furious, they stop and do something else. Then they fuck some more. When they do let go, it's like the Fourth of July!"
Shandra could imagine that. Cocks going off like roman candles. Cocks shooting coruscating colors right into her open mouth.
"Lick my balls," he said, lifting his right foot from the rug and putting its heel up on the edge of the chair. He was giving her total access to his scrotum.
Shandra whined softly and lowered her face, moving forward into his crotch. The smell of his loins hit her like a sledge hammer. They were dank and musty, like a compost heap ripe for turning. They smelled of sweat and buttocks and spent semen. That rank odor made her mouth fill with buckets of hot slobber.
"Lick!"
She pressed her nose against the fiery bag. The scent was even stronger. It burned her sinuses and made her eyes tear. The wild, curling hairs of his bag tickled her nostrils, her lips. She opened her mouth.
"LICK!"
Moaning her subservience, the saleslady extended the tip of her tongue, touching the pebbly, vein-marbled skin that surrounded his right testicle. As soon as her tongue tip touched his scrotum, the burning flavor of his sex lanced into her taste buds. She moaned louder. She didn't want to touch his balls, then. She didn't want more of that taste in her mouth.
"LICK ME!! ! "
Her tongue swirled in under the pendulous orbs, sweeping over the tacky sack, painting it with her drool. And the flavor of his genitals raged in her head, searing her lips, her throat, her tongue.
"Ohhh!" Ernie groaned, his eyelids fluttering shut, as the hot. tongue, the warm, silky lips caressed his testicles. His cock began nodding, jerking up and down idiotically, as if agreeing with him that it did, indeed, feel just wonderful.
The more Shandra licked, the less repugnant she found the taste of what she was licking. In part, it was due to the fact that she had burned out her taste buds, overloaded them, and in part due to the fact that she was washing the noxious flavor off his balls with her saliva. The upshot of it all was that she threw herself into the act with total abandon. She was crooning and mooning to the swaying orbs, lashing her tongue over them, smooching them with her lips.
"Suck 'em!" he snapped.
She had been waiting for ages for his command. She opened her mouth as wide as she could and used the tip of her tongue to guide both his balls inside. It was an almost impossible mouthful, but she managed. Her cheeks were all bloated out, the kidney shape of his testicles clearly outlined against them, her tightly pursed lips nursing on the wrinkled skin of his scrotum less than an inch below the root of his cock.
"JEEEEEZ!" Ernie moaned, as the incredible heat, the wetness of her mouth engulfed his gonads. And as she began to obey his last command, as she began to suck his nuts, the head of his penis visibly throbbed and beads of thick white stuff, library paste, came running out of its slot, oozing down the underside of the stubby shaft.
Shandra sucked passionately, rubbing her tongue under the gross mouthful, moaning her ecstasy into the tender orbs. She could feel his rising desire, feel it in the way the balls were shifting against the inside of her cheeks, feel it like a humming electric current coming off those tightening nuts, a current that vibrated right through her whole body.
"STOP!! " Ernie barked.
Shandra opened her mouth and dropped, letting the slobbery testicles pop from her lips. She was panting, gasping for air, hypnotized by the sight of the gruesome male things that she had been so rapturously sucking.
Ernie was sitting with his head thrown back, his teeth biting into the tip of his tongue, his face contorted with strain. His cock was throbbing and twitching and bubbling semen like a leaky faucet. Slowly, gradually, he regained control of himself. He let out a sigh and slumped down in the chair.
"That was good," he told her. "That was very good. I've thought about that a lot. I've used it, too, in a lot of books."
She seemed to come out of her stupor for an instant. She gave him a concerned look.
"I've used all of the individual acts I'm going to make you perform," he told her, "but I've never used them all at once, all for the same reason ... to stretch out pleasure ... to make it so awesome that ... that. . . " He faltered, staring fixedly at his furious cock, at the gleaming beads of white that festooned it.
Shandra stared at it, too. Every time one of the droplets of pre-cum dribbled down into his pubic hair, out of reach, she let out a tiny little sigh of disappointment.
"You want to lick that, too?" he asked.
She moistened her lips.
"No sucking," he warned her. "Just licking."
She waited there, panting into his drool drenched balls, breathing in the heady scent of his crotch, waited for his signal.
"Now!"
Whimpering because she could not move as fast as her libido demanded, whimpering because her hands had gone all numb and her fingers wouldn't respond, she threw her face against the sticky underside of his penis.
"Uhhhhhhh," she whined as she lashed her tongue against his rigid penile flesh, as she tasted the gummy fluid that bathed his rod. It was so horrible, so salty and rank and sour that it was wonderful. The texture was thick and viscous like uncooked egg white and she wallowed in it, teasing the tip of her tongue through the clinging droplet tracing the tip of her tongue through the clinging droplets, tracing the tip of her tongue up the underside of his cock, up through the smegmatic nerve bundle, up to the source of the gooey juice, up to his great slot.
"Lick! Lick!" he commanded her, watching spell bound as her dainty pink tongue swirled over the fat, sticky face of his cock, as it swept away the heavy beads of pre-cum.
Each time her tongue lapped the slot clean, leaving behind a glistening film of saliva, another thick white bead would appear. Again and again, she slurped at his vent, drinking down the heady fluid, moaning and mumbling to herself.
What was she thinking? What was she thinking as she ate this strange man's cum? More! That's what she was thinking. She wanted More of it! She wanted that awful clotted brew to flood her mouth, to gush down her throat in a sticky river, to strangle her with its hot tendrils.
She lapped and lapped and as she did, his cock began to move, to flex as her tongue came in contact with his nerve bundle. The fat head went slap, slap, slap against the front of his robe and droplets of semen, white as milk, dotted the ruby velour. She paused, panting, staring at the white gobs, allowing the head of his cock to come to rest against her parted lips. She wanted. She wanted those precious droplets, too.
"Go on," Ernie said, his face suddenly flushed, his hands clawing at the arms of the chair. He was giving it to her! She moaned gratefully and threw her mouth to his robe, licking up the blobs of cum, licking his robe clean. As she did this, she could feel his cock nuzzling between her swaying breasts, sliding in between the silky cones.
"STOP!! " he cried, going all rigid in his chair.
Shandra drew back, gasping. He was closer the second time. She could sense it. His balls were no longer pendulous. They had drawn up tight to his body. And his penis was getting even thicker, the veins standing out, fat and hard against the rigid bone, the head so bloated that it looked as if it would burst.
It took him longer to get himself back together, too. He squirmed in the chair, fighting his own little war, a war within himself, a war between his need to fulfill his fantasy and his need to spurt. When he stopped writhing, he didn't relax, he was still rigid against the chair back, his eyes all bulging and wild.
"Suck me!" he snarled. "God, suck me!! "
Shandra swooped down on the swollen bulb with an open mouth and a waggling tongue. She jammed the massive knob between her lips, heedless, mindless of the pain as the great spongy crest popped past the edge of her teeth. All she cared about was getting as much of his hot, pulsing cock into her mouth as she could. With the ridge of his cockhead behind her teeth, with her lips tightly clamped to his shaft, she begaW twisting her head, making his trapped bulb rolf about in her mouth, making the oozing snout grind against the back of her throat, the nerve bundle slide over her tongue, the fat crest rub incitefully against her gums.
"Oh! OH!! " Ernie howled, pushing up from the chair with his hands. He half-stood, his ass a foot off the seat, his torso hunched over, his eyes bugging out as he watched her lovely lips turn about his nasty meat.
Shandra couldn't think about anything but the thing in her mouth. It totally dominated her consciousness. Its girth ripped at her jaws, the corners of her mouth, choked her, gagged her. Its heat billowed through her head like a firestorm, frying her brain in its own juices. And she wanted all of it, all of it inside her, all of its awful, hurtful length stabbing into her face, fucking her.
Her wails of ecstasy muted by the cockhead, she began twisting her head from side to side, wedging the hugely thick cock deeper and deeper into her mouth. Her lips squeaked down over his shaft, in minute increments, and the bloated, flatened head crept down her throat, tearing at the narrow walls, stretching them wide apart.
Ernie was talking to her, babbling at her incoherently as he watched his fat, stumpy cock disappear into the tight confines of her throat. He couldn't believe that she was actually doing it, actually trying to get him all down. Her jaws were obscenely gaping, her whole face distorted by the size of his penis. But it wasn't the sight of her doing it that turned him into a mumbling idiot, it was the feel. Not only was her throat tighter than a virgin's pussy, not only was it squeaky, but in order for her to get him down, she had to swallow him ... it was the rhythmic gulping of her throat muscles, the milking inward that really set him off. His face turned beet red and he chomped down on the tip of his tongue. He didn't want to tell her to stop, he didn't want the ecstasy to end.
As her hot lips strained to touch his pubic hairs, to encircle the root of his cock, as the insane heat of her throat held the full length of his cock, Ernie momentarily lost control. His hand shot out, gripping her by the hair, holding her head still, and his hips began to flip, to drive his cock in and out of her mouth.
Shandra took it, took every throat busting lunge, loving it, reveling in the feel of his raging manhood coursing through her lips, ravaging her throat.
Then no amount of tongue-biting in the world could've kept him from squirting. Ernie felt the mind-numbing rush of pleasure, the fluttering behind his balls, and he used her hair like a handle to rip his cock from her throat.
"STOP!! ! " he cried.
Shandra whimpered. Long strands of her slobber still connected her mouth and the head of his cock. It felt like he was ripping all her hair out by the roots. His cock was flopping and jerking against his chest like a night crawler in its death throes.
He held her like that until his spasming stopped, then he let her go.
Shandra slumped down to the rug, her face leaning against the inside of his thigh, her eyes glued to the gruesomely thick root of his cock.
"Stand up!" he said, his voice breaking horribly on the lazy syllable.
As she stood up, so did his penis. It struck up from his crotch as if it'd been carved of marble. Only the faint quivering, the throbbing of the veins said it was flesh and blood.
"Spread your legs!"
She did as he asked. And as her thighs came apart, she could feel the rivulets of lubricant slipping from the mouth of her highly agitated cunt, running down the insides of both thighs, down behind her knees, over her calves.
Ernie leered into the swollen, sticky morass of her cunt, his breath coming so fast, so short that he sounded like some kind of animal.
"It's almost time," he said. "Almost. First, I'll have your cunt. Now!! "
Without thinking, she sprang forward into his lap, jamming her knees on either side of his thighs, thrusting her breasts into his face, holding her wet pussy directly over the broad head of his cock. Without thinking, she dropped her bottom. The knob of his cock rammed up into her folds, but too far forward. The head slid up through her slit and popped out the top.
"UHHHHHM!" she whined impatiently, lifting her bottom, dropping it savagely.
It was Ernie's turn to whine, then, because his bulb missed her cunt entirely and crammed directly behind her orifice, between it and her anus.
Too horny, too desperate to be rational, Shandra lifted her ass a third time. This time, Ernie shifted his hips so that when she grunted and dropped her bottom, his penis was in the right spot.
"YEEEEEEEE!! ! " she squealed as the huge head plowed into her aperture. If she hadn't been so wet, so slick, the thing never would've gone in. It was just too damn big. But she was so juicy that it slid up her, stopping abruptly at the flaring rim.
"Go! Go!! " Ernie beseeched her, his fingers digging into her smooth buns, pulling down.
Shandra wanted it inside her just as bad as he did. Groaning from the strain, she threw her full weight down on her cunt. The pressure was awesome. Her thighs quivered from it. Slowly, like the bud of a flower opening, her pussy yielded, gave way to the huge head. His cock surged up into her, filling her as she'd never been filled before, rasping against her clitoris with a vengeance.
"GO!! "
Shandra bleated as the thing went in to the hilt, bleated as the gruesome root slammed against the ravaged mouth of her cunt, bleated as his hard balls dug into her asscrack, but she gave herself no mercy. She flipped her bottom up, making his cock slide through the quaking grip of her pussy, then dropped it down, gobbling the turgid flesh.
GO!! !
His cries were like a whip crack to her libido. Sobbing and blubbering her joy, she fucked him faster, making her ass bob up and down, short stroking his short cock as quickly as she could. Her tits bounced and flounced all over her chest and the meat of her ass quivered mightily as she pounded his pubis with hers.
After what seemed to her like only a couple of seconds, the writer stiffened under her, his tongue tip, tattered like an old flag, protruding from between his clenched teeth.
"STOP!! ! " he wailed.
Shandra could not stop. Her mind was in flames and she was going down in a tight spiral, faster and faster, the glow from her plundered loins spreading over her tummy, her tits, surging up her spine.
"STOP!! ! "
He was pushing at her, scratching her, but she didn't feel it. Her pussy was starting to flutter and she could smell ozone.
"STOP!! ! " he bawled as her pussy closed down on his cock, as the friction between cock and cuntal walls was multiplied by a factor of ten.
She paid no attention to the fact that the thick cock was no longer sliding in and out of her cunt, that she was holding its loose outer sheath stock still with her convulsing muscles, that only the rigid inner bone of his penis was moving, fucking in and out of its own skin. Something clicked in her head. The trap door. The trapdoor opening. And then she was falling through the darkness.
"NOOOOOOO!" Ernie moaned, as all his plans went shooting out the end of his cock.
The sudden, boiling rush of his semen into her pussy made Shandra jerk and writhe. It was reflex action. Her mind was elsewhere, plummeting into the void. She wasn't conscious of anything but the skyrockets going off in her skull and she didn't connect them with the fountaining spurts of semen. She wasn't conscious of humping like a demoness, or of sticking the tip of her tongue up his nose.
When the joy subsided, she came back to earth with a bump! She was sitting on the floor, looking up at Ernie, at the lap he'd so rudely pushed her off.
"You didn't play fair," he said, angrily. "You didn't stop when I said stop."
It took a moment for Shandra to realize what he was talking about.
"Sorry," she said, "I don't know what came over me."
He tried hard to stay mad at her, but he couldn't. His frown cracked and he grinned at her. "Damn, but you are a hot one! Move in with me."
"What?"
"Move in with me," he said. "With you around I know I could triple my output of books. You could be my inspiration."
"You want me to help you work out your material?"
"Christ, I want to fuck you twenty-four hours a day!"
She laughed. "That wouldn't leave you much time at the typewriter, would it?"
"I could fuck and type at the same time. Stream of consciousness. It would be marvelous!"
"It doesn't sound like a very fulfilling life for me, though, does it? What would I do, change your ribbons?"
"You'd be too busy cumming to think about your destiny. Come on, say you will."
Shandra knew he wasn't serious, but it was the thought that counted. And even if he had been serious, she wasn't interested. It wasn't the kind of proposal she dreamed about. Still, he did have a wonderful penis...
"If you don't," he told her, "you'll spend the rest of your life comparing other guys cocks to mine and wishing you were here."
"I guess I'll have to risk it," she said. "I'm too independent. I don't think I could ever live with anyone."
Ernie tried to sulk, but he couldn't pull that off, either. "Damn! I wish I could do something. I mean, I really owe you for that one."
Shandra didn't want him to feel obligated to her. She wanted him to feel good. She had to say something, had to do something. So, she did what came natural, she handed him the Ezee Clean catalogue.
CHAPTER SIX
"Say!" Mr. Zeblin said, giving Shandra the once-over as she passed his office door. "I like the new image!"
She pirouetted for him. She liked it, too. She'd thrown out all her staid, mannish suits and bought a whole new wardrobe of slinky, sexy things, things that said she was all woman. The dress she had on was a clingy knit that hugged her lush figure like a second skin, outlining not only the firm moons of her buttocks, but the round peaks of her nipples as well.
The sales manager stared hard at her tits. "You've burned the bra, too?"
She didn't blush. She grinned fiercely at him. "Burned the panties, too," she said.
"I don't believe it!" he exclaimed, craning his head around so he could get a better look at her behind.
"Wanna see?" she asked.
"Do I!"
She took hold of the hem of her skirt and started to slowly lift it. She lifted it up over her knees, her thighs, stopping just before she got to the crucial area.
"Oh, dear!" she said. "I'm late for an appointment!" She dropped her skirt and beamed at him. "We'll have to continue our discussion some other time."
Mr. Zeblin slapped himself on the forehead and staggered back into his office mumbling to himself.
Shandra didn't have any appointment. She just wanted to get back at her boss for some of the familiarities he'd been taking with her lately. It seemed like his hand was always straying to her bottom, his shoulder always nudging into her breasts, and he did it in a proprietary way that made her angry. She had nothing against Mr. Zeblin, in fact, she found him very attractive. But there was nothing between the two of them. His groping was just an exercise of his power over her and she was offended by it.
A few weeks before, she never would've had the nerve to stick it to her boss like that ... or to walk around in such a tight, revealing dress for that matter. Shandra wasn't a new woman, but she was getting there, bit by bit. She'd rationalized her rather bizarre selling technique quite easily. She was having her fun and getting paid for it. Not many people were so blessed. She hardly thought about the old Shandra at all ... and when she did, she could only marvel at how naive, how sheltered a person she'd been.
Shandra didn't make all her sales to handsome men and sexy women. Much of the merchandise she unloaded went to little old ladies, to middle aged mothers, regular housewives who'd never even consider doing some of the things that Shandra had done in the line of duty. On regular customers, she used regular selling techniques, the things that Zeblin taught her, intimidation, flattery, and on her special customers, she used her own methods. It wasn't hard for her to tell the regulars from the specials; it was something she could feel down in her toes.
She got that funny feeling when she took her first look at Martin Johns and vice versa. He was a tall, slender man with tight, curly black hair and a bronzy tan. He had the facial structure of an actor or a male model, jutting cheek-bones, distinctive nose, wide, striking eyes, a mobile, sensual mouth. He stood in the doorway of this canyon rim, ultra modern home and bald-facedly sized her up, started at her legs, working his way up to her hips, then breasts and finally her face.
"Howdy do," he said, showing her his perfect teeth. He was dressed in a swim suit, one of the kind that the Olympic speed swimmers wear, hardly more than a jockstrap. He filled that red, white and blue pouch to the bursting point.
Shandra told him who she was and why she'd come, trying not to stare at his mammoth cock.
"Gee, the wife's not at home right now," he said. "She usually buys those kind of things. I don't pay much attention to what she uses and what she doesn't."
The saleslady was delighted at the prospect of being alone with the handsome young man. She knew better than to show it right off, though.
"If you think you're wife might be back soon," she said, "I could wait. I did come an awful long way and I'd hate to have to come back if she isn't interested."
"Hey, sure. You can come in and wait," he told her. "like I said, she's the one you want to see."
Shandra walked into his house. It was immense. The sunken living room stretched off into the distance, and at the far end was a floor-to-ceiling picture window with a view of the Hollywood Freeway.
"I like your house," she said, turning towards him. He had his back to her. She took the opportunity to look him over. His back was finely muscled and lean. She could see the bones of his rib cage under the smooth, tan skin. He had a tiny butt and long legs.
"Thanks," he said, turning towards her. "But it isn't really my house. It's the wife's. It was given to her by her dad."
"Oh," Shandra said. She wondered why he'd made a point of telling her that. Then she wondered what he did for a living that he could stay home in mid-week and have such a gorgeous suntan.
"What sort of business are you in?" she asked.
He chuckled. "Business? No, I'm not in business. I don't do anything. I inherited. I am one of the meek."
The bulge in the front of his trunks told her that was an out and out lie.
"I never met one of the idle rich before," she said.
"Ta-ta!" he sang, holding his arms out. She smirked.
He looked at her body again, his eyes savoring every firm curve. "And this is what you do?" he said. "Sell these cleaning products door to door?"
"Yep," she said.
"Doesn't it get awfully tedious?"
"Every day is something new, she said. "You meet new people, get put in new situations."
"Sounds too good to be true. Do you ever sleep with your customers?"
Shandra gawked at him. Then she caught herself. He was good, all right. She laughed. "Never on the first sale," she said.
"How much do I have to buy before I get to fuck you?" he asked, his tone suddenly dead serious.
"Mr. Johns, your wife will be home soon. I don't think you want to get started in something that could mean trouble for all of us."
"To hell with my wife," he said, moving close to her. He pushed his hips forward, making the soft bulge of his crotch mash up against her hip.
Waves of heat danced over Shandra's face, her tits, her cunt. She wanted to grab his cock and squeeze it. But she didn't want to get caught by an irate wife. She had too good a thing going and she didn't want it all loused up.
"I think I'd better come back some other time," Shandra said, turning away from him.
He caught her by the arm and turned her back.
"Don't bullshit me, lady," he said, once again rubbing his genitals into her body. This time they were much firmer, much hotter. "You want it. I know you want it. I can smell it."
She could smell it, too. The raging animal heat of a man and woman about to fuck. She sagged against him.
He pushed her back and quickly rolled down his swimming trunks. His penis flopped out. It was still half limp, but it was tremendous. It hung almost all the way down to his knee and it was as big around as her wrist. The shaft was laced with fat veins and its skin was a faint ruddy pink color. The head of his cock was a huge, sensual mushroom cap of angry red. He had a pair of balls to match, great bloated things that snuggled up against his crotch in their reddish pink sack.
She took one look at his penis, at the velvety sheen of its skin, at the monstrous thickness or its shaft, and began to hurriedly undress. She stripped out of the top of her knit dress, baring her brassiereless breasts to him, then shimmied out of the bottom, waggling her heavy breasts. She straightened up then and let him look at her clad in just her see-through panties. The sight had the effect she'd hoped for: his big cock began to twitch and jerk, to lift up from against his thigh and arch up into the air.
"Ooh!" she squealed in delight as the naked young man scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to the long couch in front of the picture window. He put her down gently on her back.
"Aren't you afraid that the whole world will see?" she said, watching with growing excitement as his cock passed the horizontal and started to climb to the vertical, to stand up from his loins like a ruddy tree limb.
"Fuck the world," he said putting his hands to her knees and pushing her thighs apart.
"Don't you want me to take off my panties?"
"Fuck 'em."
"Ooh!" Shandra moaned as the man buried his face in her fork, rubbing his nose, his mouth, his chin right into her pussy, sniffing and snorting over the slick band of nylon.
"Mmmmmmm"' he said. "Your pussy smells wonderful. It smells good enough to eat."
Shandra shuddered as he opened his mouth and took the lower half of her protuberant mound between his teeth, as he gently nipped her pussy. She could already feel herself beginning to heat up down there, the tell tale sticky sensation was growing stronger every second.
Martin mashed his mouth against her slit, moaning softly as he felt the warm rush of her juice seep out, soaking instantly through the nylon, smearing over his lips.
"God!" she cried, her belly rippling as he caught the edge of her crotch strap in his teeth and pulled it far from her pussy. He was stretching the fabric, chewing it and groaning like a maniac!
When he let go of the narrow band, it didn't snap back. It just drooped. Her cunt was completely exposed. She opened her legs wider, inviting him to explore.
"Uhhhhhh," he sighed, kissing her petulant labia, smooching the sticky slit from top to bottom.
Shandra lay there, quivering as his passionate kisses gradually forced her slit to part. By the time he'd managed to get her open, her fragrant juice was all over his face and he was moaning and groaning like a man strapped to the rack. Then he was using his tongue, making it swirl about the nadir of her gash, making its tip tease and poke at the mouth of her pussy.
"UHH!" she whined. He was driving her crazy, giving her just the tiniest bit of tongue, pushing into her a tad, then drawing back and lapping round and round her hole. He did this until she couldn't bear it until she started squirming on the couch, shifting her hips back and forth anxiously, pushing her cunt up into his face.
Martin knew what he was doing, though. He kept on teasing her, flicking her clitoris quickly, then withdrawing, turning her into a seething mass of unrequited passion. He wanted her to go wild when he finally mounted her. He wanted her to be cummin the whole time ne was inside her.
"God! Please! Please stop doing that to me!! ! " she wailed. She was sobbing and humping and humping and sobbing, begging him to stop and grinding her pussy against his forehead, his nose, his mouth, his chin. "God! I can't stand it! No more! God, please!! "
Martin knew she hadn't had enough. He gripped her hips, holding her thighs obscenely spread and continued to lap at the fur fringed lips of her pussy, teasing them so far apart that he could see the open mouth of her vagina. Again and again, he poked his tongue into that hot honey hole, only to quickly withdraw it as soon as he felt her stomach start to ripple.
"NO MORE!! ! " she howled, hunching madly, thrashing her head from side to side. She began to blubber brokenly, weeping like a little lost child.
The young man raised his head. She was ready for him, now. Her pussy orifice was visibly flexing, opening and closing like some tropical ocean creature. He pushed her right leg over, making her trail her foot on the rug, and climbed on top of her.
As soon as Shandra felt the searing hardness of his cock rubbing aginst her soft belly, she lifted her knees and spread her legs wide, giving him access to everything she had.
Martin lifted himself up a bit, reached down between their bodies, and grabbed hold of the neck of his massive penis. He pushed down, forcing the wide, bulbous head to slide down over her belly and down through her sparse black pubes. The leaking snout of his cock left behind a solid line of white pre-cum.
"You're going to get it all," he promised her, shoving his bulb down into her parted slit, down into the sticky pocket.
She groaned as he gently leaned into her, as the mouth of her pussy stretched, yielding to his knob. And then his huge penis was sliding up into her belly, filling it from wall to wall with throbbing, rigid flesh.
"Christ, you're tight!" he gasped, pulling back a bit and sliding his penis in to the root. He held himself inside her like that for a long time, with his balls pressed up against her buttocks, and the hairs of his pubis rasping against the lewdly splayed lips of her vagina.
The reason that Shandra was so tight was simple: she was cumming already. Her pussy was clamped down about his gargantuan shaft, tugging insistently at it as the pyrotechnics went off between her ears.
"Uhhhhh-HEEEEEEEH!" she shrieked, arching her back. The tender nubbin of her clitoris squeaked over the upper surface of his wet cock and sparks rained down over every inch of her body, tiny prickles of delight that billowed and blossomed and consumed her.
"All right, all right," he said, tightly, trying desperately to maintain his composure. He started fucking into her and the copious juice of her pussy soon lubricated things to such an extent that his whole immense cock was slogging in and out of her with ease, climax or not.
Shandra lay there with her legs wrapped tightly about the small of his back, praying that the pleasure would never stop, that he'd keep on fucking her forever. No one was listening to prayers that afternoon.
"Well, I'll be goddamed!! " said a shrill female voice from the other end of the house.
"Christ!" Martin groaned, pushing up off Shandra's belly and peering around his hip.
Shandra froze, her pulse pounding, her pleasure totally forgotten. They'd been caught. Caught by Martin's wife!
"When the cat's away the mouse will play, huh?" Mrs. Babs Johns said, stepping over to the couch.
Shandra looked up at her. There was no way to explain it. The woman's husband still had his big cock in her cunt and she was laying under him like a two-dollar tart, her legs wrapped python-like about his waist.
"Why don't you introduce me to your new friend?" Babs said, removing the beret from her head. Long, straight red hair slipped free and fell to well below her shoulders. She was a slight woman, but perfectly shaped. She was wearing a tank top of red satin and her up-thrusting breasts were small but delectable cones under it. She had a pair of white shorts, exceedingly tight, that showed off the curves of her hips and the length of her legs.
"Go to hell," he said, and he resumed his fucking.
Shandra was dumbfounded. But she was far too excited to try and fight him off. She took those manly lunges greedily, lifting her ass from the couch and twisting it as the rod punched home.
Babs peered down at the juicy juncture of their bodies, watching her husband's big penis slide in and out of Shandra's obscenely sputtering cunt.
"I think this is grounds for divorce," she said, matter-of-factly.
Martin paused. "Damn you, Babs!" he snarled. "Go away and let me finish!"
"That's not the way you're supposed to act, Martin," she said. "That's not how we agreed it would be."
"Ooooh!" Shandra moaned as the big cock slipped out of her.
Martin sat up on the couch and glowered at his wife. His cock, which was gleaming from tip to root in Shandra's viscous lubricant, stood up straight in the air, the helmet's hood flaring, the helmet's slot leaking white goo.
"That's better," Babs said. She sat down on the long couch between Shandra and her husband and lowered her face to his lap.
Shandra couldn't believe her eyes when the little woman opened her mouth and took the huge cock inside. The cock that was all sticky and stinky with her sex juices! Not only that, Babs swallowed the whole thing down, just like a sword swallower. She buried her pert nose in the wet fur of his pubis and then let his cock slip back out between her lips.
"Nummmmmmmm!" Babs crooned, bobbing her head making the huge thing fuck in and out of her throat. As she was doing this, she gingerly reached over and stuck three fingers into
Shandra's open cunt.
"OH!" the saleslady groaned. It was way, way too late to close her thighs. Babs had her fingers buried to the knuckle and then she started moving them in and out sensuously, and Shandra wouldn't have closed her thighs if her life depended on it.
Martin's wife continued sucking his cock while she expertly manipulated Shandra's already aroused clitoris. Her fingers corkscrewed madly into the seething channel, making it give up a nasty farting noise.
"God!! ! What is she doing!! " the saleslady cried, unable to keep her ass on the couch for the flurries of pleasure rippling over her tummy. "What is going on?! ! ! "
Martin sat there, his eyes slitted from the ecstasy his wife was giving him. "It's nothing to get concerned about," he said. "Babs and I have an understanding, that's all. We share and share alike."
Babs let his gross bulb pop from her lips. As soon as she did so, a thick bead of semen oozed from his slot and rolled down the crimson face of his cock.
"What's his is mine," she said, giving her fingers an extra twist against her clit.
"UHHHH" Shandra wailed, her hips fucking up into the deeply stabbing digits.
"And what's mine," Babs went on, "is his."
"If she brings a girl home, I get to fuck her, too," Martin said. "We have an 'open marriage.'"
The saleslady didn't know what to think. She didn't know what was whose or whose was what. Those talented fingers kept ringing her chimes over and over again.
"I'm getting horny, Martin," Babs said.
"Yeah, I know the feeling," he said.
"Do you think your little friend here would mind a threesome?"
"Why don't you ask her?"
"No, you ask her while I get out of these clothes."
Martin had a way with words ... and without them. He didn't ask Shandra anything. He just grabbed her by the hips and rolled her over on her stomach, then pulled her up into an all fours position under him on the couch. She hardly had time to catch her breath before he was pouring all that hot meat of his up her from behind.
"Ohhhhhh!" she whimpered, burying her face in the cushions as the great rod bottomed out against the back of her womb.
"Ohhhhhh!" Babs said, mimicking her as she undressed. "What have you been doing to that girl, Martin? And for how long?"
The little redhead pulled her tank top over her head. Her firm breasts hardly jiggled at all. They stuck out proudly from her chest, ivory hummocks capped with pale pink nipples. She undid the front of her shorts and peeled them down. She wasn't wearing any underwear. The hair between her legs was a thick red thatch, a triangle whose downward pointing peak ended where her bright pink labia began. The woman's legs were slender and set far apart on her pelvis so that even when her knees were together, there was a gap between her legs so that the tender, succulent flesh of her pussy was plainly visible. Her labia were wrinkly and their inner edge was ragged. There was only a few wisps of red hair on the petals themselves, but the fringe was much thicker in an oval that surrounded her entire pubis. There was even a little tuft of hair below the entrance to her cunt, between it and her anus. It stuck out between her firm, white buns, just a few thin wisps, but very sexy looking.
Babs stood there for a long moment, watching her husband's greasy red cock fuck in and out between Shandra's round buttocks. As she watched, she toyed with the mouth of her pussy, pushing the petals apart, inserting her index finger and touching herself on the clitoris.
"You'll grow hair on your palm," Martin warned her.
"Hah!" she said. She marched over to the couch and put her hand to Shandra's back, stroking her' silky skin.
"Unnnnf! Unnnnf!" the saleslady grunted, the impact of the big cock slamming into her from behind, forcing the exclamation from her throat.
"I know what!" the redhead said.
Martin ignored her and kept right on fucking, rolling his hips around to make the sides of his cock rub against the walls of her cunt.
Babs sat on the couch right next to Shandra, then she lay back with her head pointed towards her husband's pumping hips. She quickly scooted in under the saleslady's belly, sticking her head in between the woman's spread knees and throwing one leg over the back of the couch while letting the other drape off onto the floor. Babs had put herself in the center of things, all right. She had her face directly under the hot, sputtering point of Martin and Shandra's joining. She could see his cock plowing in between the parted pink petals, see her belly rise and fall as the thing filled and emptied her, see his massive testicles swaying back and forth in time to his lunges. And she had her widely spread crotch right under the groaning saleslady's face.
Shandra didn't have to open her eyes to know what was directly under her. She could smell it. She could smell the keen foxy stink of a hot pussy. She didn't even think twice. She slipped her hands down over the backs of Babs' thighs, gripping her buttocks with her fingers, and dropped her open mouth down on the red-bearded slit.
"OH!" Babs cried as her pussy was swarmed over by kissing, sucking lips, by squirming tongue. In less than a heartbeat, that tongue was sliding up into her cunt, flicking her clitoris, fucking in and out. The redhead started tossing her ass, making her hungry cunt gobble, gobble.
Martin knew something was going on down there because the woman he was fucking started going crazy, shaking her ass, hunching back into his thrusts. Then something warm and wet engulfed his testicles and began to suck.
"Christ!" he groaned, fucking faster.
Babs held on, despite his quickening pace, kept his balls in her mouth, kept on sucking on them, swirling her tongue over them. The mingling juices of Shandra and Martin's bodies were flowing down over his scrotum, flowing down into her mouth and she gulped them hungrily, wallowing in the flavor of the fucking.
Shandra warbled into Babs' open cunt. Martin was bashing into her like a madman, his cock sawing over her clit relentlessly, making the pleasure surge and ebb, surge and ebb. She was beside herself with passion. No longer content to merely tongue the redhead's pussy, she ripped the firm butt-cheeks further apart and dropped her slippery mouth down on the woman's tiny anus. She had never done anything like it before. The sensation was so startling, the heat of the tiny ring so staggeringly intense, that it drove her right out of her skull. In a blink, she was licking and sucking at the wrinkly aperture, bathing it in her hot slobber.
Babs' back arched up from the couch and she gasped as the mouth on her pussy moved to cover her rectum. She was only stunned for an instant. True to form, the hot little redhead started humping in earnest, mashing her pore into Shandra's sucking mouth, into the wet tip of her tongue.
Martin was so alarmed by the din the two women were making beneath him that he peered over Shandra's shoulder to see what was going on. All he could see was the top of the saleswoman's head between his wife's thighs, but from the angle of it, he knew that Shandra wasn't eating pussy. The idea that his wife was getting her ass licked by the woman he was fucking turned him on and then some.
Babs, for her part, was popping his big nuts in and out of her lips and teasing the tip of her tongue up behind them as far as she could reach, up along the silky smooth band of skin that separated scrotum from anus. Frustrated in reaching the fur-rimmed orifice up between his buns with her tongue, she did the next best thing. She put her finger there, right against his seething rectum and pushed. Martin's ass opened up like a double garage and her finger squirmed into the hot, rubbery depths.
"YOW!" Martin croaked as he was spitted.
It was too much, too damn much. His cock was getting wrung out by a hot pussy, his balls were being sucked, and now he had a finger pushing in and out of his ass. Martin gave up the ghost.
"UHHHHHHFFFM" he snorted, bashing into Shandra so hard as he began to cum that he jammed her face between his wife's buttocks, so hard that he jammed her stiffened tongue right up his wife's ass.
Babs went berserk, nipping at his nuts, fingering his pore, fucking up into Shandra's wriggling tongue.
As soon as the saleslady felt that first, devastating gush of semen pouring into her, all hell broke loose. She whimpered and sobbed, thrashed and humped, bouncing on the couch like a wild thing, trapped between the madly plunging cock coming at her from behind and the madly sucking rectum that was trying to rip her tongue out by the roots. The bottom dropped out of everything and she began to tumble.
The fluttering, quivering spasms that teased his spurting cock only made Martin drive harder. He could feel the suction of her pussy drawing the semen from his balls, sucking it up his hollow cock like a vanilla malted through a straw. Her cunt was sucking so hard that he was afraid she would suck his nuts up, too, suck them right up the length of his penis. He fucked into Shandra's upturned cunt until the poor woman went limp, until her cunt trembled and expired.
As soon as the sucking spasms ceased, as soon as the lips went slack about his cock, all the hot fluid that he'd pumped into it started pouring out, oozing out between the shaft and the walls of her cunt.
Babs didn't know what to think at first. Something hot and thick was dripping on her face. Then the dripping became a steady stream and the stream a torrent. Buckets of cum and love juice poured down on her and she let Martin's balls slip from her lips and opened her mouth wide, catching the viscous rush on her tongue, swallowing it down as fast as she could. The sensation of being bathed in semen was the last straw for her. She let out a piercing shriek and went into orgasm convulsions, thrashing about under the bellies of the others, spitting and sputtering as the hot fluid kept raining down on her face.
It was a long time before the trio broke up. Every time one of them had an orgasm. One or both of the others found a good excuse to keep the ball rolling. They coupled in every conceivable combination untjl they could couple no more. Then they fell apart.
Shandra and Babs lay on the rug, their spermy faces buried in each other's crotches. They were so exhausted that they could no longer even lick each other's vaginas. Martin was flat on his back on the couch. His once proud penis was a shriveled shadow of its former self. He was snoring.
The saleslady groaned and raised her head from the red bearded pussy. Babs roused herself, taking the opportunity to give Shandra's labia one last nip.
"Uhhh!" Shandra said, lewdly rolling her hips, making her cunt rub against the woman's face. Then she rolled off.
"God!" Babs sighed. "That was really some blow out!"
Shandra indicated the woman's husband with a nod of her head. "He's the one that got blown out," she said.
Babs giggled. "Did you see how his eyes lit up when we both started sucking his cock at the same time?"
"That was incredible," Shandra said, her eyelids getting heavy at the memory, half-closing.
"We were frenching into each other's mouth right around the head of his cock," Babs said. "And when he got off! I've never seen him cum like that. It was like Old Faithful!"
There was a long silence. Shandra broke it by asking a question. "Do you guys do this kind of thing often?"
Babs laughed. "Sure," she said. "Oh, it's usually hot this good. But we belong to this group, you know, that swaps mates. We have a party once a week."
"Really?"
"It's not as exciting as it sounds. I guess because it's all planned out ahead of time. Everybody knows who's going to fuck who. It's all figured out so that everybody gets to fuck everybody else once every two months."
"Sounds real modern."
"Clinical is more like it," Babs said. "Most of the guys aren't that good in bed, either. Martin is the best of all of them. All the girls say so."
"I guess you must do it with people outside the group, too?"
Babs glanced over at her slumbering hubby, then she winked at the saleslady. "Whenever I know he's going to be out of the house, I put on a short skirt and no panties and go to the nearest supermarket."
"Supermarket?"
"Uh-huh. You'd be surprised how many nice men you meet while you're bending over the frozen food case. I bring them back here and give them the time of their life. It's fun."
Shandra explained to her why she was in her house, what she was selling.
"Oh, dear! Let me get my checkbook," Babs said.
"But you haven't seen the catalogue," Shandra protested, febbly.
"You've seen it, haven't you."
"Of course."
"Then, I'll write you a nice big check and you can pick something nice out for me."
Shandra watched the woman fill in the amount, swallowed hard, and wondered how in the world she got to meet such wonderful people.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Ms. Blaine," Mr. Zeblin said, "I'd like for you to meet one of our newest salesmen. Tod Hern."
Shandra nodded and smiled at the handsome young man. He looked to be about twenty five. He was tall and muscular, athletic. His light brown hair was sun-bleached to a corn silk yellow on top, his eyes were root beer brown. He was wearing a three-piece suit and he looked very nervous.
"I've heard a lot about you, Ms. Blaine," he said. He was trying very hard not to look at her breasts, which was no easy thing to do because she was leaning against the edge of the doorway, sticking them up in his face, and because the form-fitting black satin blouse she was wearing made them look downright naked.
"Call me Shandra," she said. "Everybody but Mr. Zeblin does. He's not allowed."
"I'm looking forward to working with you, Shandra," he said.
The saleslady shot her boss a nasty look. It was the first she'd heard that anyone was going to be working with her.
Zeblin cleared his throat. "It's part of a new program we're starting," he told her. "We're trying to increase the success ratio of our recruits. We're pairing them up with our top notch sales people, hoping that some of the know-how will rub off."
"Interesting theory," she said, without much interest.
"Tod, here, is a real bright boy," Zeblin went on. "I think he can be a top man someday, if he gets broken in right. I can't think of anyone better qualified than you to teach him the ropes."
"You mean teach him all my secrets of success?" she said.
"Yeah, teach him so he can teach me," the sales manager said. He turned to Tod. "This gal is a one person army. In three months she set a new one-person sales record. If I had a half-dozen more like her, I could rule the world."
"The first secret of success. Tod," she said, "is to ignore everything that that man says. He doesn't know his ass from a hole in the ground."
"Nice talk!" Zeblin said.
Tod didn't know whether to laugh or frown.
If he hadn't been so good looking, Shandra would've made a bigger fuss about taking him along on her rounds. So far as she knew, no one at Ezee Clean knew how she was breaking all those sales records and she wanted to keep it that way. She told herself that she'd take the young man along and maybe steer him to her apartment along the way, but she'd make sure that the only secrets he got were pure bull shit.
"Come on. Tod," she said, grinning at Zeblin, "let's go sell some toilet brushes."
"You know, you're kind of a legend already," Tod said once they were in her car and rolling.
"You don't say," she said.
"Uh-huh. Zeblin holds you up to all the new salespeople like some kind of ideal and tells them that this is what they should shoot for."
"Did you buy it?"
Tod shrugged. "I don't know. It seems to me that everybody has to find their own way of doing things."
Shandra was getting to like the young man more and more.
"You know, I was kind of scared when Zeblin said he was going to pair me up with you," Tod said.
"Still scared?"
"No, it's funny. You're about the most normal person I've met since I started work here. The other people in the sales training program all acted like they had to prove themselves, like they had to out-do each other. They mostly talked about it, though. When it came down to the nitty-gritty, out in the field, they were all hot air. I did OK in the field trials or I guess I wouldn't be here, but I keep wondering if I can cut it, day in and day out."
Shandra knew why she liked Tod. She liked him because he wasn't cocky or smug. She liked him because he reminded her of herself a few months back.
"It's OK to worry. Tod," she said. "It keeps you on your toes."
On the way over to the area Shandra was working, the two of them talked about Tod's schooling ... he was a graduate of Los Angeles City College ... and his sales experience ... which was nil. As they talked, Shandra got a strange idea. She wondered what the clean cut young man would do, what he would think if she really did let him in on her "secrets"? The more she thought about the idea, the more it grew on her. It gave her no small thrill to think about debauching such a sweet, sexy young man. Not that she meant him any harm, but if he really wanted to find out how to make the big bucks selling household cleaning supplies, he had to learn her "method."
"Hey," Tod said, as she pulled the car to the curb, "this is a pretty spiffy neighborhood."
She laughed. "Nothing but the best," she said.
The two of them got out of the car and walked up about a half block to the first address on her list. It was a grand Spanish manor with a high, whitewashed adobe wall ringing the inner courtyard.
"You take this first one," she told him. '"I want to see how you work." Tod nodded grimly.
A liveried butler answered the bell. He looked at Tod like the kid was some kind of insect.
Tod tried to smile disarmingly and then launched into the standard introduction. He got as far as "I represent ... " Then the door slammed in his face.
"Not too hot, huh?" he said.
"Don't worry about it," she told him. "Everybody gets that kind once in a while. I got a whole list of addresses here. We'll just go down them until you get your foot in the door."
They went through a dozen hot leads and Tod didn't even come close to getting inside. Shandra knew that she could've swung a couple of them. The kid was nervous and he flat out blew it.
"Tell me about the stuff you sold in the preliminary," she said. "What did you sell and to whom?"
Tod flinched. "Just some brooms and mops to some little old lady."
"How did you get in?"
His face reddened. "She just let me in."
"She wanted to buy the stuff?"
Tod was getting more and more flustered. He answered her questions in such a way that it only led to more questions. Finally, he told the whole truth.
"All right, all right," he said, "I sold the stuff to an auntie of mine."
"How did you pull that off? You didn't know where you'd be sent."
"It was just luck. Dumb luck."
"You haven't told anyone else about this, have you?"
"No."
"Well, keep it that way. You could get canned if they find out upstairs. They take their field trials very seriously."
"Yeah, I noticed." Tod looked at the tips of his shoes. What am I going to do, Shandra? I can't sell doodly-squat."
In that instant, she made up her mind.
"I'm going to teach you," she said. "I mean, really teach you. No bull."
He blinked at her.
"But you've got to do exactly what I say," she warned him. "If you don't, the whole thing will be a bust and most-likely we'll both get fired."
"I don't understand."
"You will, you will. Just remember. Whatever I say, no matter how crazy. You've got to trust me."
"I trust you."
Shandra led him up to the next home on the list. It was a massive Tudor style mansion set way back from the street. In the middle of Los Angeles, the lot alone was worth seven figures.
"Just stand behind me," she said as she rang the bell. She quickly unbuttoned the first four buttons of her blouse, so that the sleek sides of her milk-white breasts were very apparent in the gap between the lapels.
The door opened and a Latin man in a white uniform said, "Jes?" His eyes dropped to her cleavage and remained there.
Shandra watched his face, watched the little vein throbbing at his temple. She knew they were in, even before she opened her mouth.
"My name is Ms. Blaine," she said. "This is my associate, Mr. Hern. I believe Mrs. Talmadge is expecting us."
"Of course," the man said, retreating and standing aside so they could enter, the whole time watching the subtle shifting of her bosoms. The servant left them alone in the foyer while he went to fetch his mistress.
"How did you ... oh!" Tod said, looking down and seeing all the creamy flesh she'd exposed.
"Remember, do exactly as I say," she told him. "There's no time to explain the why." She did up two of the four buttons, leaving the top of her cleavage exposed.
A tall, raven-haired woman in a long white dress approached them. The woman's figure was incredible. Her tits big and soft, waist wasp-narrow, hips like a lyre. She seemed to glide an inch or two above the wooden parquet floor. Following close behind her was the servant.
"Good morning, I am Mrs. Talmadge," the woman said. She wore her hair piled up in a tight bun at the back of her head. A few stray wisps trailed down along the side of her long, snow white neck. She was gorgeous. Her face was shaped like a kitten's, her eyes green and feline. "Roberto, here, said I was expecting you?"
"Yes, I believe so," Shandra said. She had to fight to keep from smiling. The lady of the house was staring at Tod with keen interest. "This is Mr. Tod Hern and I am Shandra Blaine."
"Forgive me, please," the woman said, "but I don't believe I know you and I certainly wasn't expecting you. What do you want?"
Shandra stepped closer to the woman. "It is rather a private matter, madam, perhaps you would not want the servant to hear."
Roberto visibly stiffened. His coal black eyes glared daggers at her. He was not the kind of man one normally found in the position of house servant. He was too pretty and there was something about his prettiness that said "gigolo." From his reaction to the servant slur, Shandra had him pegged exactly right
"I have no secrets from Roberto," the woman said, her glance in his direction meant to soothe his ruffled feathers. "Speak freely."
"Mr. Hern and I represent the Ezee Clean Corporation..." Shandra began.
"The what?! "
"But that's not why we're here."
Tod shot her a worried look.
"I should hope not," Mrs. Talmadge said, her clear green eyes turning back to Tod for the twentieth time.
"The reason we stopped in was because we know that Mr. Talmadge died recently..."
"Mr. Talmadge died two years ago! It's a little late to condolences, I should think."
Mrs. Talmadge frowned. "Call the police, Roberto."
"There's no need to be friendly," Shandra said. "Tod and I came here on a friendly visit. We know what a frightful bore it can be to be stuck at home with the same old thing night after night."
Roberto and Mrs. Talmadge exchanged startled looks.
"We thought that a little spice might be welcome."
"If you are intimating what I think you're intimating," the woman said, "I assure you that neither of us is interested."
"Really?" Shandra ripped open the front of her blouse, opened it all the way to her navel, throwing back the lapels, exposing her naked breasts. The nipples shriveled up almost instantly, jutting out provocatively from the peaks. "What do you say, Roberto?"
Roberto's tongue was half-hanging out of his b mouth. He was leering at her lush tits, craning his neck for a better look.
"Roberto! Really!" Mrs. Talmadge said in disgust. She addressed Tod, saying, "It's his Latin blood. He's so hot all the time."
"Tod, show Mrs. Talmadge your cock," Shandra said.
Poor Tod was too stunned to do anything but obey. He unzipped his fly and lowered his trousers, reaching into the bulging front of his jockey knit briefs and whipping out the biggest soft cock Shandra had ever seen. The lady of the house was pretty impressed by it, too.
"I ... uhh ... i ... uhhh," she stammered, her eyes darting over the length of it, the awesome girth.
"Don't be shy, Mrs. Talmadge," Shandra said, "go give it a yank. That's what it's there for."
To his credit. Tod didn't pull away when the raven-haired woman stepped up and gingerly took hold of the neck of his flaccid cock.
"God! It's so big around!" the woman moaned, sliding it through her fingers.
Tod's eyelids fluttered and the thing dangling between his legs, the thing she was stroking, started to jerk and throb, rising sluggishly into erection.
Roberto wasn't paying any attention to what his mistress and lover was doing to the Anglo man's penis. He was mesmerized by Shandra's saucy breasts.
"Come here, Roberto," she said, wriggling out of her tight skirt. "I have a job for you."
The Latin man moved like a cat, knowing intuitively just what the job was she wanted done.
He dropped to his knees in front of her and his warm fingers were pulling at the waistband of her panties, rolling them down over her hips, her thighs.
Shandra moved her feet wide apart after he'd pulled her panties off over them, showing the man the dark hairs on her pussy, the fat petals of her labia, the deep crack between her round buns.
He didn't wait for any more invitation than that. He pressed his face into her crotch, extending his long, hot tongue, licking at the tight lipped slit as he massaged her bare buttocks.
"OOOOOH!" she cried, her hips ticking automatically into his face. She lifted her right leg up, sliding it over his back, tipping her pussy up for him.
Roberto wallowed in her cunt, using his mouth and tongue to part the heavy flaps, to get at the hot buttered velvet of her channel. And behind her back, between her buttocks, his fingers were very busy. As he stabbed his tongue into her pussy, flicking its pointed end back and forth over the oily marble of her clitoris, he was twiddling with the tiny ring of her rectum, teasing it with his fingertips, stretching it by pulling gently at its sides.
Shandra couldn't believe the man's ardor. He hadn't tasted any strange pussy in so long that he'd forgotten how delicious it can be. He was sucking and slobbering at her cunt like there was no tomorrow, making her ass jerk and bob in his grip as the flurries of pleasure exploded deep in her belly.
Between waves of ecstasy, she peered over at Tod, her prot'g'. He was still standing up, but Mrs. Talmadge wasn't. The exquisitely beautiful woman was bent over at the waist, her delicate fingers wrapped about the massive root of his hardening penis, her full, sensual lips gaping, lewdly ovaled as they slipped moistly up and down over the broadly domed head of his cock. She was sucking him and masturbating him at the same time, jacking him off into her hungry mouth.
"God! God, yes!" Tod moaned as she squeezed his cock harder, making the outer sheath slide up and down over the rigid bone. He was watching the way she was making his sheath bunch up against her lips, listening to the way she was sucking at his vent, greedily swallowing the salty fluid that slowly seeped out.
His penis quickly bloated out to full erection. It looked impossibly huge and obscenely erect as it jutted up from his loins. And the lovely woman was bobbing her head, forcing her mouth down over the head, forcing her lips to slide down over the pulsing shaft. There was no way on earth she could get all of that cock in her mouth. If the head had been the same size as the root, she never would've been able to get her lips around it. It was shaped like a spire, a lewd spire and her mouth was holding the very tip.
The feel of all that hot man meat excited the widow. Her breathing became short and gasping, and her hand moved faster, harder on his shaft, agitating the length of meat so much that her pumping caused his testicles to bounce and jiggle wildly.
The jiggling motion set off a chain reaction that Tod was powerless to halt He let out a grunt and his face turned red and then he was grabbing hold of the woman's head and hunching his cock up into her face.
His cock jammed into her mouth, but he only managed to get himself another half inch deeper into her throat. She whinnied in terror, waving her hands about and then the whinny was cut short.
Roberto paused in his cunt sucking long enough to glance over at his mistress. The woman's face was as bright a red as the young man's who was orgasming. Her adam's apple was bobbing furiously as she fought to gulp down the thick, steaming cum that was shooting into her mouth.
"Yeeee-hah!" Roberto said. Then he slid his tongue into Shandra's channel once again and crooned contentedly as he flicked her clit
The sight of the beautiful, elegant lady drinking hot semen straight from a huge throbbing cock put Shandra's libido into orbit. She orgasmed right in the Latin's face, her pussy tugging wildly at his tongue, farting trapped air and juice over his cheeks.
Roberto was an old hand at tongue fucking. He didn't even flinch when her pussy clamped down on his tool, but continued to rub its tip incitefully against her thrill center, prolonging her pleasure until she started to babble and sob.
Mrs. Talmadge swallowed Tod's semen until she thought she would burst. The rank, musty flavor filled her head, raging over her tongue. When she could take no more of it, she ripped her mouth from the bulb.
"OH!" she cried as another sizzling spurt spat forth, hitting her across the bridge of the nose, spattering over her forehead. She raised her hand to fend off the next gusher, but Tod shoved it out of the way and pointed his still-cumming cock right in her radiant face. He bathed her lovely features in his sticky semen, festooned her hair, which was coming undone and trailing over her shoulders, her throat, her ears with it. She sobbed and pleaded for him to stop, but when his cock stopped spurting she let out a baleful cry and started rubbing her hands over her face, smearing the sperm all over herself.
When she did that, when she performed that totally wanton, utterly sluttish act, it did something to Tod. He growled like an enraged bull and grabbed her by the arm, hauling her into an adjoining room.
Neither Shandra nor Roberto wanted to be left out of the fun, so they uncoupled and quickly followed. They were just in time to see Tod shove the lady of the house belly down over a red leather ottoman.
"Noooooooo!" Mrs. Talmadge wailed, kicking her feet futilely as the muscular young man pushed her dress up over her back, exposing her long, slender, creamy white legs. Mrs. Talamdge wasn't wearing any panties. Evidently, she liked to be ready when Roberto was in the mood.
Tod hooked his thumbs to the insides of her perfect alabaster buttocks, prying them apart, gazing at the tender, pale pink flesh of her pussy. It was rimmed by the faintest shadow of black hair, as faint as a fourteen year old boy's mustache. As soon as he put the pressure to her buns, that aroused pussy of hers started to split open. It gaped, it yawned, it gleamed with slick juice.
If there was any doubt in her mind as to what Tod intended doing to her, that doubt vanished when she felt the huge, bulbous head of his cock push up against her defenseless cunt.
"Roberto!! Roberto, help!! ! " she squealed, clawing at the rug to try and evade the immense penis.
But Roberto didn't want to help. He wanted to watch. He moved closer to the action, pushing Shandra in front of him, his left hand jammed in under her buttocks, his long fingers fucking in and out of her cunt so fast that she had to hold on to the back of a chair to keep from collapsing from the sheer ecstasy. His right hand was fumbling with his fly.
Shandra heard the zipper open and she instinctively turned to look. The thing that she saw in the man's fist made her groan aloud. His cock was just as huge as Tod's and it was a greasy brown hue, with a steeply sloping head, a sharp, needle tip, and a heavy intertwining of purplish veins all over its underside.
"HELP!! " Mrs. Talmadge screamed as Tod gripped her by the hips and pulled her back onto the head of his cock.
The poor woman went rigid when she realized that there would be no escape, that her cunt was already stretching, yielding to the great knob.
"Sonofabitch!" Tod moaned, watching his thick penis pour into her though the narrow hole.
Roberto, too, was impressed. He muttered something and began masturbating frenetically, his eyes glued to the monstrous shaft quickly disappearing into his lover's backside.
Shandra didn't know what to look at. She kept turning to watch Roberto's cock lengthening, stiffening, knowing full well that soon she would be on the receiving end of it. Then she would turn back to look at Tod, his face contorted from strain as he fought to bury the last, gruesome I y thick inches of his cock in Mrs. Talmadge's up turned cunt.
The gasping woman gave a little yelp as the big cock went in to the hilt, as she felt his massive testicles snuggling up against her mons. She knew that there would be no more.
Tod reared back, dragging his dripping rod from her. As he did, the friction pulled her pale labia far from her body, making them pucker from her fork like the lips of an ape. When he shoved himself back in, he did so with a vengeance, a brutal snap of his hips. Mrs. Talmadge gave another yelp then, and collapsed across the ottoman, her full cheeked ass stuck up high in the air.
As Tod began ruthlessly fucking her from behind, those yelps became louder and louder, gradually turning into squeals of sluttish pleasure.
Roberto decided that it was time to find his cock a home. He shoved Shandra in front of him, shoved her over closer to the humping couple, then he pushed her down in the same, all fours position that his lover was in.
The saleslady obediently dropped her tits to the rug and put her ass high in the air, offering her cunt up to him.
Roberto quickly moved in behind her, wedging her knees painfully far apart with his own before fitting the nasty, pointed head of his penis to her pussy.
"YEEEEEE!! ! " she shrieked as he lunged, as the thick rod lanced into her loose and fuck-ready cunt.
The Latin moaned his pleasure as he sank his greasy cock in to her pink pussy, plowing it between her round white buttocks. He didn't wait for the flow of her juices to lubricate his path, but started fucking in and out immediately, mindless of the tight fit, the friction.
Shandra howled her hurt into the rug, chewing it, ripping it with her teeth. It felt like he was killing her! Then, with every successive lunge, it got easier, until his fat cock was pistoning in and out of her cunt in a brown blur.
Roberto was huffing and puffing, his attention torn between watching his own penis dart in and out of the sticky cunt in front of him and watching the battered, sputtering cunt of her lover receiving all that pink Anglo cock.
Mrs. Talmadge seemed to have changed her mind about wanting Tod to fuck her. She was moaning and groaning, begging him to keep on doing it, to do it harder, faster. She sounded like some teenage tramp under the grandstands during the Homecoming game. She was rolling her smooth buttocks, swiveling her cunt to get the full benefit of all that slogging cock.
Tod couldn't possibly have fucked her any harder. He was jamming himself into her with such force that every ounce of flesh on her legs and ass quaked. And he couldn't have fucked her any faster, either. His cock was just a pink blur, flying between her widely splayed labia.
Roberto acted like she was talking to him and not Tod. He started wailing on Shandra so hard that the girl couldn't even catch her breath. His cock was darting into her, stabbing into her belly, totally out of control, and all she could do was sob ecstatically into the slobber-soaked carpet.
Whether Tod tired of hearing the woman's cries for more and wanted to teach her a lesson, or whether it just occurred to him that the time had come for a change of pace, he suddenly pulled his cock from her cunt.
"Oh!" she wailed. "Ohh!"
His member quickly snapped up to his chest, thumping there, upon his suit vest, leaving a big splotch of fragrant juice. He bent it back down with one hand, and with the other, forced her butt-cheeks far apart.
"NOOOOOOM" Mrs. Talmadge howled. He hadn't done anything to her, yet, but she knew, she already knew.
"Dios!" Roberto groaned as he watched the Anglo shove his slick penile bulb into the woman's asscrack. He could not see what the man was aiming at, but he could see the first inch or so suddenly disappearing, and he could hear.
"OWWWWWM!" Mrs. Talmadge bawled, once again clawing at the rug to escape. Once again, escape was impossible.
Tod skewered her rectum on his cock, battering down her defenses with animalish, sadistic lunges. Inch by squeaking inch, his huge cock was slowly swallowed by her ass. Nothing she could scream, nothing she could do could stop it or even slow it. And then Tod was balls deep in the searing, rubbery depths and Mrs. Talmadge was squealing like a stuck pig.
Roberto was not to be outdone by this stranger. Before Shandra could gasp, he had wrenched his cock from her cunt and was jamming the needle nose into the tight ring of her ass. There was a horrible, stinging pressure and she strained to hold him out, but his sharply pointed cock was made for boring into tight places. The tip pushed easily into her rectum and the rest of the head wedged in after it. She could feel herself tearing, ripping to accommodate him and she pleaded with him to stop, to take it out.
He only grunted and flipped his hips, driving himself deeper and deeper. The throbbing length of his cock was like a red hot bar of iron in her guts, killing her, ruining her, and it just kept on coming, pouring in through the broken sphincter. After what seemed like an eternity of pain, she felt his balls rub up against the mouth of her pussy and she knew that he'd given her all he had.
She tried desperately to relax, to let it happen, but there was too much cock up her ass, the splitting pain, the pressure was too great.
Not three feet away. Tod had begun to screw Mrs. Talmadge's ass, fucking his cock in and out in long, slow strokes, giving her every inch of it. Her shattered cries echoed in the huge house.
Roberto followed Tod's lead, starting to work his huge penis through her sphincter, watching with greedy eyes as his rigid meat vanished up her ass. Shandra, too, found herself screaming, screaming in time with the lady of the house. And it was little wonder. Both of the men were butt-fucking their partners at the same speed, doing it stroke for stroke like dancers in some obscene play.
Tod gradually began to pick up speed, to outdistance his Latin counterpart, as his cock managed to stretch the woman's rectum.
Sensing that he was losing ground, Roberto began screwing faster to catch up. He passed Tod easily as his lightning thrusts opened Shandra wide.
The men didn't realize what was happening, but the women did ... and how! The men were leapfrogging each other, speeding faster and faster, there was no way one could catch up with the other, no way. Their cocks were darting madly into the plundered pores, screwing the ravaged bowels unmercifully. As they lunged, they were actually driving the women closer and closer together until they were almost face to face.
Then a remarkable thing happened. Mrs. Talmadge let out a piercing shriek and started to fuck Tod back, to impale herself on the huge rod. And she was pleading with him again, begging him to never, ever stop, to keep on fucking her.
Shandra was trying to puzzle the strange event out when the fireworks started going off in her pussy, too. It could've been the steady, thumping pressure of Roberto's balls against the mouth of her pussy, so close to her clitoris...or it could've been some dark, masochistic release. The upshot of it was, both women started cumming all over themselves, and as they were almost nose to nose, anyway, they began kissing hungrily, trenching their tongues into each other's mouths as they took savage cockstabs from behind.
Orgasm was infectious. One look at the moaning, ecstatic females, their tongues lashing over each other, their bare bottoms tipped up in the air to receive the lusty cockstabs, coupled with the scorching heat and exquisite tightness of the channels that held their cocks ... and Roberto and Tod were squirting their brains out.
"YEEEEEEM!" Mrs. Talmadge shrilled as molten lava belched into her ass.
"YEEEEEEM!" Shandra wailed, her whole body trembling as Roberto's cock throbbed and spat his viscous semen into her bowels.
The two men didn't slow their pace in the least, even though they were cumming. They kept on pounding the sweet bottoms, working their manly staffs in and out And even after their spurting ceased, they kept it up. The fluid they shot into their partners' rectums served to further lubricate things, so that the going was easier still. Tod and Roberto took advantage of the circumstance to do a marathon ream session. They traded off, switching partners back and forth until they both orgasmed a second time. Then, totally spent, they slumped to the floor.
The foursome was a long time in moving after that. They'd all been completely fucked out. It was Tod who got up first. He rolled Shandra over and put his mouth to her ear. At the feel of his warm breath, she awoke, stretching like a cat.
"Sure is a strange way to sell bristle brushes," he said, kissing her earlobe.
"You ain't seen nothing, yet, kid."
CHAPTER EIGHT
"I told you she was good, didn't I, kid?" Mr. Zeblin said, beaming at the order blank Shandra and he had turned in for their day's work.
"Yes, sir, you did," Tod said.
"And you really did teach him," the sales manager said in amazement. "You couldn't have landed a whopper like this without showing him some tricks."
"You said teach him," Shandra said, "so I taught him."
The two sales persons exchanged meaningful looks.
"Yeah, sure," her boss said, "but well, I guess I didn't expect you to go all out like this."
"If you're going to do something, I always say go all the way," she said.
"How did the kid, do? Level with me now. Did he pull his weight on this deal or was it all you?"
She sighed. "You want me to tell you right in front of him?"
"Sure. Why not?"
"No, I guess it wouldn't bother you," she said, shaking her head. "Well, he knows it anyway. He performed like a champ. I mean it. He pulled his weight and then some. That last gross of mop refills was all his doing."
Tod laughed self-consciously.
Mr. Zeblin looked at the order blank again, then at Tod and Shandra. He smacked his lips. "This thing you've got," he said to her, "it's too big to keep to yourself. If you can teach Tod in one day, you could teach the whole staff in a week. Why we could move ten, no, twenty times the amount of merchandise! We could all get filthy rich! Tell me, I've got to know. How do you do it? What's your big secret?"
Shandra just smirked at him. "I think I'll take off early today," she said. "I deserve it. Want a ride home. Tod?"
Tod grinned. "Sure."
As the young man turned to follow her through the office door, the sales manager caught him by the sleeve. "Look, kid," Zeblin said, not making any attempt to keep Shandra from overhearing, "we don't need her. You've got her secret now. If you tell it to me, we can both be rich! Come on, dammit, tell me!"
Tod glanced at Shandra.
"Tell me or it's your ass, kid!"
The young man shrugged helplessly at her.
"You bastard, Zeblin!"
"How does she do it, kid?"
Tod said, "Mr. Zeblin, she fucks them. She fucks them all. That's how she does it."
The sales manager's face turned beet red. "Get out of here! I should've known better than to ask. 'he fucks 'em.' What kind of an idiot do you take me for?! ! "
Tod and Shandra staggered down the hall, laughing themselves sick.
