Barbara gave a twist of her hips, and the knit dress glided down her curvaceous form, obscuring a delightful display of pink panties and bare flesh above gartered stockings. She looked at her image in the mirror.
Her face was not strikingly beautiful, but it had a sweet openness, and her high cheekbones gave it a touch of class. Her mouth was provocatively small. The careful donning of the dress had not mussed her chic auburn hairdo.
The doorbell rang.
"Shit!" Barbara said, irritated by the interruption of her plans.
The tall, well-proportioned woman walked to the door, her rounded hips undulating in the clingy dress. Her shapely calves flashed. She buttoned the front of her dress on the way.
"Yes?" she asked as she opened the door.
The man outside had quick, sharp eyes. That was the first thing Barbara noticed about him. Next she took in his casual grooming: Wavy brown hair that was loose and on the long side, coming down over the collar of his fancy sport shirt; it was unbuttoned far enough to show his broad, hairy chest. He was tall and in his late twenties, about Barbara's age.
"Good morning!" he said with a friendly smile. "I'm a photographer, working door-to-door in this tract. I'm offering a special on children's portraits. You have kiddies, I suppose."
"No!" Barbara replied, more sharply than might have been expected. The fact that she had no children after five years of marriage- and could never have any, according to the physicians she finally had consulted-was a touchy subject with her. It made her feel useless and also accounted, she believed, for her husband's increasing lack of interest.
She began to shut the door.
"Well, perhaps you have a pet!" the photographer said quickly, and opened the album he had been holding. He flashed some pictures of dogs and cats. "The same prices apply-only ten dollars for your choice of three standard-size prints, with a slight additional charge for enlargements."
Barbara stared at him. He was an attractive man, she decided.
"I was about to go out," she said, and hesitated, not quite sure why.
"Yes, I can see you're all dressed up-and very beautifully, too."
His eyes toured her, dallying on the mounds of her titties before sweeping down to take in her womanly hips and subtly curved tummy. Though Barbara usually had an aversion to being stripped by male eyes, this man's inspection seemed different. She felt a tingle.
If she hadn't been lonely of late, with her husband treating her like part of the furniture when he bothered even to come home, she never would have invited the photographer in. But before she knew it, there he was, setting up his lights in her living room and placing his camera on a tripod. The equipment had been in his car, parked at the curb.
"I really feel foolish, having you take a picture of Snow," Barbara said.
"No need to feel that way at all," the photographer replied. His alert eyes surveyed the appealing spread of Barbara's buttocks as she bent to pick up the fluffy white Persian cat. "You'd be surprised how many people have their pets photographed."
Barbara's asscheeks twisted in her embracing skirt as she carried Snow to the sofa, where the photographer had told her to pose her pet.
"I suggest that you sit beside the cat, Mrs. Uuh ..."
"Lewis."
"Hi. I'm Gary Phillips." He flashed another smile. "Animals usually pose better when their master or mistress is nearby."
Barbara sat and crossed her legs. Her skirt glided back from delicately contoured knees, sheathed in sheer nylon.
"If you would like to be in the picture, you could hold Snow on your lap," the man suggested as he adjusted the height of his camera.
"No, thank you."
Gary looked through the viewfinder. "You have a very pretty pussy, Mrs. Lewis," he remarked.
A touch of color came to Barbara's cheeks, and she berated herself for showing such a silly response to a perfectly innocent word. Or was it innocent? He could have said pussy cat.
She felt ill at ease, and she twisted a bit, causing her skirt to inch higher on her tapering thighs.
Gary kept staring through the viewfinder. "You have lovely legs! I'm a freak for clip-ons and garters."
Barbara was embarrassed, and she quickly tugged her skirt down, blushing stronger. "I didn't realize you could see above my ... stocking tops ..."
Gary chuckled and raised his head. "I couldn't see above your stockings. But I noticed the bumps of your garter clips in your skirt."
"Then maybe I should wear pantyhose."
"Please don't do that. Pantyhose are anti-erotic. I wonder ..."
"Yes?" Barbara felt more and more keyed up, as if something were about to happen.
"Please don't take this the wrong way, but if you would let me take some pictures of your legs, I might be able to land a modeling assignment for you."
"What?" Barbara was flabbergasted.
"I have a friend who runs a modeling agency, and I happen to know he's looking for a girl to pose for leg art. You'd be perfect, I believe."
"You've got to be joking!" she said.
"No. The men's magazines are always looking for new models. The pay is excellent."
"But I'm not the glamorous type!" Barbara said.
"You're sexier than you realize."
Her ego was immensely stimulated. "Well, I ... for goodness sake!" She gave a little laugh.
"Just slip your skirt a bit higher ..."
"Oh, no! Really!"
"You may be passing up a wonderful opportunity."
"You just want to take pictures of my ... legs?"
"That's it. All the way to their tops."
Barbara tingled some more. She had never thought of modeling-at least, not since she was a silly schoolgirl. The idea still excited her, though.
What was indecent about showing her legs? Women did it on the beach and at poolside all the time. And it was only a few years ago when they were wearing their skirts up around the middle of their thighs.
"I'm not sure I know ... just what you want," Barbara said, pinching her skirt at both sides and hesitating.
"Just pull it up!" Gary urged, sighting through his camera.
I can't! Barbara thought. Not with him looking at me through his camera and getting ready to take a picture!
Then suddenly she did it, gliding her skirt along her hose. The rising hem revealed the dark bands at the tops of her stockings, pulled into slight peaks by her garters. The creamy-smooth flesh of her thighs was exposed.
"All the way!" Gary insisted.
Barbara was amazed by her own boldness as she pulled her skirt lap-high, revealing a rim of pink panty on the thigh which crossed over its twin. She felt hot. Her pussy throbbed.
"Very nice!" Gary said, adjusting his camera.
He straightened up and snapped on the lights. Barbara blinked in the sudden glare.
Her cat jumped down from the sofa and ran away. Neither she nor the photographer noticed.
"Now swing your legs a bit to the left," he said, sighting again.
Barbara did so, showing him the fullness of her elevated thigh. She felt wanton, but she assured herself she wasn't doing anything wrong. The photographer snapped a picture.
"Now just uncross your legs and lean back," he said. "Lift your legs in the air."
"What?"
Gary grinned disarmingly. "You can keep your thighs together."
"Ooh, this is ridiculous!" Barbara said, not moving.
"Your thighs are appealingly full at their tops. The backs of them, with your stockings and garter straps framing the view, would be very enticing."
Barbara tugged her skirt down, blushing furiously. "I think we'd better stop this right now."
"Please, Mrs. Lewis! This is all very impersonal, as far as I'm concerned. But I stand to make a nice little commission if you get the modeling job. And your fee will be really worth-while."
"But ..."
"Just point your knees toward me and lift your legs."
The man was tremendously persuasive. Or was it something within herself, Barbara wondered, which made her want to go along with his request?
Anyway, she did it.
She uncrossed her legs, kept her knees together, and leaned back, lifting her pretty legs in the air. Her skirt skidded to her lap. Two elasticized rims of pink panty were revealed, which met to form a small nylon triangle where her thighs came together. Her garters, emerging from under her pants, drew taut against her full thighs. Her stocking tops were delightfully expanded.
Gary took a shot.
"Now, uh, why don't you stand up?" he suggested.
"There's more?" Barbara inquired, her nerves aquiver.
"Yes. Face away from me."
She positioned herself as directed.
"Now lift your skirt to your waist."
She whirled to face him. "No!"
"Mrs. Lewis ... uh, what's your first name?"
"B-Barbara."
"Now, Barbara ..." He stepped up to her.
Is it my imagination, she thought, or does the arrogant fellow HAVE A HARDON!
The photographer's trousers indeed were pushed forward. But Barbara didn't dare look directly at them. Suddenly he was too close for her to do so, anyway.
He took hold of her arms and looked directly into her wide brown eyes. She felt a distressing thrill.
"I just want to take a picture of your legs from the back," Gary said, "while you're standing up. That gives a different effect."
"But you said to ... lift my skirt to my waist!"
"So, you've got panties on."
"Yes. And I don't care to exhibit them!" Her cheeks were hot. "If you want to wait while I change into shorts ..."
He took a look at his watch. "I'm a little pressed for time. I've got to make a certain number of calls today or I'm in trouble. Really, Barbara, I'm like a doctor in a way. I mean, my attitude is strictly objective. I'm only interested in posing you."
She fidgeted. Why was she so antsy?
"All right, I'll ... I'll lift my skirt up," she said, turning her back. "But just above my stocking tops."
She raised her skirt, and Gary got back behind his camera.
"A little higher," he said.
Like a curtain rising on a stage, her hem lifted more and more, showing inches of naked skin above her gartered nylons. Barbara tried to judge where the hem was, in relation to her panties, but she couldn't be certain without putting her hand there-and that would have seemed too obvious, she thought. She raised her skirt a little higher than she had meant to do, exposing the lower portions of her silky pants, stretched to thin near-transparency by the generous roundness of her buttocks.
"Is ... is that all right?" she asked over her shoulder.
"Just another inch or so," Gary said, looking through the camera.
Barbara complied.
The full plumpness of her ass came into view, encircled by her panties in silken embrace. The crack between her shapely buttocks was hazily visible through the sheer nylon. Combined with her succulent thighs and the allurement of her stockings and garter straps, the view was marvelously erotic.
Gary captured it on film.
Barbara didn't realize that she had exposed too much until she felt cool air kiss her through the seat of her panties. She quickly dropped her skirt.
"Just one more pose," Gary said, "and this will be a little different. Face me."
Barbara turned, feeling tremendously embarrassed-but exhilarated, as well. She couldn't explain the latter.
When she took a good look at the photographer, she had even more cause to feel embarrassed. His lovemaker WAS standing up, she realized in thrilled dismay. And what a big, stiff cock it must be!
The photographer didn't seem nervous, despite the protrusion of his pants-front. Barbara couldn't help staring at the stunning peak while her cheeks glowed in brilliant warmth.
"Don't let my dick bother you," the photographer said, shocking her even more. "It always gets hard when I pose a beautiful woman."
Barbara wanted to run. But she didn't. She just blushed and gulped, trying not to look at the man's lower body.
"What I want you to do this time is to unbutton the top of your dress," he said. "My friend is always in the market for titty poses."
I don't believe he said that! Barbara thought. He COULDN'T have been so deliberately vulgar!
But she knew he HAD said it: Titty.
The deliciously forbidden word echoed in her brain.
"I ... I ... won't show my ..."
"Titties?" Gary asked with a smile.
"Please don't call them that!" Barbara shut her eyes.
"Breasts, then." Gary seemed faintly amused. "Breast shots are very popular."
"Well, I wouldn't pose that way! It's out of the question!"
"Why? All the actresses bare their tits-I mean, their breasts-in the movies. And the popular magazines are full of them, even Cosmo. I'm sure you've noticed."
"Yes, but ... but ..."
"Unbutton your dress, Barbara."
It was as if she were hypnotized. She couldn't seem to resist following the man's orders. She opened her dress with trembling fingers.
Her bra was a skimpy thing, cradling her medium-sized but erotically shaped breasts, the pale nylon so sheer that her rosy nipples showed through.
"Let the dress slide down your arms."
She heard the direction as if in a trance, and she complied, feeling ashamed but tremendously excited.
"Now unclasp your bra."
"Noooh," she breathed weakly.
"Do it, Barbara."
She took off her brassiere.
Her tits jiggled deliciously, standing in elliptical roundness. Her nipples immediately stiffened to stick up from crinkly disks which were the size of quarters.
Gary snapped a shot.
"Lean forward," he said. "Let those beauties hang!"
Barbara did it, feeling wicked and cheap. However, her panties were damp.
The photographer snapped his shutter again.
"Now stand erect and cup your beautiful boobs in your hands," he directed, "as if you were offering them to a lover."
She did that, her fingers curling around the satiny, projecting mounds. She squeezed her resilient tits while shame drenched her. Her rosy cheeks betrayed embarrassed excitement.
"Good!" Gary said, and snapped off his lights. "You can get dressed now."
Barbara hurriedly did so, wondering what in the world had possessed her to expose herself so wantonly. She was too ashamed to look directly at the man.
"I'll show these pictures to my friend and get back to you," he promised as he bundled up his equipment.
"You wouldn't ... show them to anyone else, would you?" she asked anxiously.
"Now, why would I do that? I'm a professional!"
"Oh. Yes. I'm sorry."
In less than a minute he was gone, with no further mention of the cat which she hadn't wanted him to photograph anyway.
Trembling, Barbara watched through the window as he drove away. Then she hurried into the bedroom. Forgotten was the shopping tour she had intended to take that day. She was so hot that she had to do something about her physical problem right away.
Taking from her bureau drawer a good-sized candle, she lay down on the bed and pulled her skirt up. She wriggled out of her clingy, moist underpants. Steepling her stocking-clad knees and swaying her thighs wide apart, she touched the blunt end of the candle to her wet, sizzling slit.
The candle easily slipped between the furry, passion-flared lips of her vulva and into her palpitating pussymouth, stretching it and gliding up ... up ...
"Oooooooooooh!" Barbara moaned when the hard, fat candle was deeply lodged in her cunt.
Her mind projected an X-rated movie onto her closed eyelids, starring herself and the handsome man who had photographed her. His clothes were off, as were hers, and his excitement was rampant.
What a big, fat cock he had! Eight inches of straining, throbbing, rosy-headed manhood, sticking up in the air!
Barbara flopped onto her back, utterly wanton as she spread her legs for him, silently begging him to possess her.
The candle became his turgid penis as it stroked in and out of her pussy, causing her to writhe. The hard, tingling tip of her clitoris dragged against the penetrating thruster. Her wet vagina reached for each plunge of the waxen, smooth dildo.
"Fuck me ... ohhh, fuck me!" she lasciviously panted. She had never used that word within anyone's hearing, but she said it to herself at times such as this. No other word seemed to suffice.
The wicked candle pumped deep into the frustrated housewife's vagina. Her wet flesh clasped the ersatz cock, her muscles rippling up and down on the firm column. It was a poor substitute for the real thing, though. It didn't have any bulging knob on the end of it, and it didn't feel warm and throbby, the way a man's prick did. Barbara also missed the feel of heavy balls bouncing against her tingly asshole. But she had to do the best she could with what she had at hand.
Kinkily she imagined there was someone taking pictures while Gary took her, and that heightened her already lewd excitement. She squirmed and panted.
"Drill me!" she gasped. "Oooh, damn you! Fuck me gooood!"
Her husband hadn't given her a screwing in three weeks, and she had been about to climb the walls. Now she was getting something, at least-something hard and long that stropped her clit and pressed the nerve endings in her cuntmouth as it sank deeply into her hot, wet hole.
"Ooooh, take pictures of it!" she said aloud. "Get it all on film! Gary, you devil! You big, handsome hunk! Dick me! Oooh, shaft me! God, yessss! Fuck ... fuck ... FUCK!"
Barbara's buttocks hammered against the bed as she drove to a fiercely explosive climax.
When it was over, she lay panting and ashamed, but gratified for the moment. She slipped the candle from her quiescent twat.
Suddenly she couldn't believe what she had done. Not the masturbation or the fact that a stranger had "starred" in the mental phase of it. That was nothing new. She frequently had imagined herself being fucked by supermarket bagboys, traffic cops, and door-to-door salesmen. What shocked her was that she had exposed herself in the flesh to Gary and had gotten wildly turned on while doing so.
There was the further prospect that she would have more such disquieting experiences if the modeling job came through.
Mousy she a model-at her age?
Was that possible?
WHY NOT? her spirit dared to respond.
She felt like Dorothy, stepping onto the yellow brick road ...
Chapter Two
Throughout the next day Barbara daydreamed about being a model, still scarcely believing such a thing could happen, but titillating herself with the exciting idea. She told herself that she wasn't sure she wanted to do it; however, the prospect kept her excited and on edge.
It was a guilty excitement. Though she tried to assure herself that there was nothing wrong about a woman showing her legs and breasts-even her bottom-to a camera, it went against her strict upbringing and her square, middle-class lifestyle. That made it all the more stimulating.
What did men do when they looked at nude pictures of women in those magazines, she wondered. Did they take out their penises and play with them?
Oh, my!
The thought of her being the cause-the inspiration-for thousands of horny males getting hard-ons dismayed and excited her. She visualized all their dicks sticking up.
Goodness!
Over and over, Barbara blushingly relived in her mind the incident with Gary, how he had talked her into lifting her skirt to show him her bare thighs above the tops of her stockings. Her thinly clad bottom, also. Finally her titties, as he daringly had called them.
Most of all, she recalled the forbidden thrill, which had been tremendous.
That scared her. A decent woman shouldn't get excited over exhibiting herself, she thought. Yet she had. Did that mean she wasn't really decent! Was she just waiting for a chance to kick over the traces and do something wicked and wild?
If I do get a modeling offer, I ought to turn it down, she told herself firmly. But ought to was a far cry from wanting to, and she remained in a tense, nervous quandary.
Another day passed.
By the second evening, Barbara had done so much anticipating and mental struggling that her nerves screamed for release. She waited anxiously for her husband, Harold, to get home from a late session of work at his office.
She took a bath, then put on panties and a robe. She paced, watching the clock.
At a quarter of midnight, Harold arrived. Bespectacled and balding, he had a medium build which was beginning to turn paunchy. He wore a conservative business suit and a habitual frown, which seemed to have deepened during the last year or so.
Barbara rushed to him.
"Darling, you're so late!" she gushed, wrapping him in her arms. She pressed her moist, pouty lips against his mouth.
She felt him turn tense when he detected that her restless breasts were unbrassiered on the other side of her thin robe. The tension was only in the upper part of his body, however, and that didn't please his anxious wife. Down south, where she needed him to get tensely stiff, she felt nothing.
"I'm really bushed!" he said, as he drew back defensively. "That audit tonight was a tough one. I think I'll have a cup of warm milk and go right to bed."
He turned toward the kitchen.
Warm milk put Harold to sleep quickly, Barbara had learned. Desperate to dissuade him from taking the potion, she hurried after him into the least romantic room of their suburban home, whose scrubbed tile and porcelain glinted coldly. She reached past him to press her hand against the refrigerator door before he could open it, and he was forced to turn a questioning glance her way.
"Harold, it's been three weeks!" was all she could say, her eyes and tone of voice revealing her anguish.
"What has?" he asked, as if he didn't know what she was talking about.
"Ooh, Harold!" She shut her eyes, and a visible tremor coursed through her, causing the pointy mounds of her tits to tremble.
She heard her husband swallow hard. When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her like a beagle.
"Let's ... make love," she murmured, ashamed that she had to ask for it.
"Barbara, if you knew how tired I am ..." he said plaintively.
Her attitude quickly changed.
"Well, for God's sake!" she exploded. "You'd better start taking vitamins."
He flushed and looked down, making it clear that her shrewish outburst had worsened matters. Drastic action on her part was called for, she realized.
Jacking up her courage, because it was against her nature to be sexually forward, she unfastened her robe and let the pink tip of a titty peep out.
Harold's eyes widened, and his lips parted. But he made no overt move.
For God's sake, what's the matter with him? Barbara wondered. Am I going to have to commit rape?
Jesus Christ! Harold was thinking. She must really need it tonight. Awhile back I would have gone ape if she'd made a move like that. I would have encouraged her to do more. She always used to be such a meek little mouse.
But now I have Sandra.
Wow, did I have Sandra tonight! We did it every which way. She even went oral with me to help get me up so we could do it again.
I'm all fucked out!
If I didn't know better, Barbara tonight, I might suspect he was with another woman tonight instead of working. But not Harold. He's as square as I am ... or as I WAS. Oh, I don't know what I am any more. All I know is that I'm dying to be screwed!
She clutched the front of her husband's trousers, her hand warmly encompassing his soft genitals. "Please get hard for me!" she shamelessly begged.
"Barbara ..." The look in Harold's eyes was helpless.
She clawed his zipper open and groped into his pants. Grasping his wiggly, soft penis, she brought it out. She pinched the flaccid stem between her thumb and forefinger and shook his pinkish-blue knob to and fro.
Get hard, damn you! she thought.
There was no response.
Barbara whined, "Oooh, Harold ...!"
She began tugging on his limp cock, stretching it forward and causing his balls to jiggle in his shorts. Still there was no tangible reaction.
"Harold, what's the matter with you ...?" she asked plaintively.
"I told you, I'm tired, Barbara! I can't help it!"
"But after three weeks?"
Extremely desperate by that time, the pretty brunette stripped her robe off. Her shapely jugs jiggled in the bright light of the kitchen. Her pinky-beige nipples stretched rigidly erect. Blue panties, trimmed with white lace, swathed her hips and loins.
Shutting her eyes and letting her pink lips part moistly, Barbara tilted her head back. Her body weaved, like that of a sensuous dancer, and her breasts joggled temptingly before her husband's eyes.
Such erotic behavior was so unusual for his modest wife that Harold stared stupidly, his penis dangling limply from his pants.
Barbara clutched her springy-firm breasts and squeezed them. This sent throbs racing through her. She twanged her stiff nipples with her thumbs, heightening the tactile stimulation. The crotch of her panties became damp.
She let her boobies flip free and glided her hands down her statuesque form, hooking her thumbs around the top elastic of her fancy, lace-decorated briefs. With tantalizing slowness, she peeled her panties down, turning the silken blue fabric inside-out as it drew away from her undulated belly. The top edge of her pubic curls appeared.
Harold watched as more and more of his wife's lustrous auburn bush came into view. Despite his previous erotic exertions of that evening, his penis thickened and lengthened some. However, its head rose but slightly, like a man awakened before getting his full rest and scarcely able to raise himself from the bed.
Barbara's panties lowered more, peeling moistly away from the soft lips between her thighs. When the full beauty of her furpiece was displayed, Harold's interest couldn't help but heighten. Barbara had never, never stripped for him in any room but the bedroom before, and having it happen in the kitchen offered a special kick. Still Harold was so played out that his penis could manage only a feeble half-salute.
Barbara could see that an even more daring demonstration on her part was called for. She stepped quickly out of her stretchy, sleek underpants and tossed them aside, onto the gleaming vinyl-tiled floor. She pushed backward, sitting on the edge of the kitchen table, and she spread her thighs wide apart.
Harold stared at the hair-bordered enticement of her pussy. Its outer lips, puffed with excitement and coated by dew, parted just enough to give her fascinated husband a glimpse of the really wet pinkness within her soft cove. Her cuntal hairs curled wispily away to both sides; tiny beads of clear moisture clung to the silken tendrils.
If Harold had been an eating man, he would have salivated at the sight. As it was, his eyes just bugged and his penis lifted a bit more ... but not much.
Barbara stared at his poor excuse of a response, figuring that it wouldn't be able to push its way into her slippery but snug chamber. She would have to do even more.
A naughty inspiration seized her, and she slid off the table. She hurried to the refrigerator. From the vegetable crisper, she took a scrubbed and trimmed carrot and brought it back to the table, her elliptical boobies doing an erotic dance as she walked.
Harold goggled as she sat on the edge of the table once again to spread her thighs wide apart. Color was high in her cheeks, and her lips were moistly parted. Her snatch was considerably wetter as she shockingly pointed the carrot up between her thighs and began to tease her slick pussylips with the vegetable's tapering tip.
Her husband gaped, entranced. His dick lengthened and lifted more.
Gradually the carrot which his wife was holding entered between the lathered lips of her vagina and sank with tantalizing slowness into her heated sheath. She writhed, screwing her slippery, warm softness around the lewd probe. It felt good inside her, but not as good as Harold's cock would feel-if only he could get it hard enough to do the job!
He watched in wordless fascination while Barbara stroked the carrot in and out of her cunt. It was something which, even in his wildest imaginings, he had never thought he would see his modest, conservative wife do. His penis rose to workmanlike stiffness.
Barbara's head lolled and she panted while diddling herself with the carrot. Each stroke of the firm, lengthy vegetable against her clit-tip and between her nerve-lined labia heightened her excitement, carrying her toward the payoff point. But she knew she couldn't achieve real satisfaction without a male organ inside her. Finally she focused her glassy eyes on her husband's woman-pleaser and ... yes! It was standing up, quivering in thick, rosy-headed firmness.
Barbara pulled the wet carrot out of her snatch and threw it onto the floor. She lay back on the table and lifted her legs in the air.
"Do it to me here!" she cried, knowing but not caring that she sounded like a slut.
Harold fumbled with his trousers, pushing them and his undershorts down. His poon-tanger pulled in through the fly of his descending briefs, then whipped free to bob springily. But as he moved up to Barbara, his tool lost some of it stiffness. After all he had been through that night, he really didn't want to have sex again.
His wife writhed on her back on the table, the wet pink folds of her pussy squirming. Harold pushed his rapidly softening penis against her feminine slit and just managed to achieve penetration.
Barbara was disappointed by the squidgy feel of his organ as it entered her, for she craved bonelike hardness and plenty of thrust. She whimpered, twisting her lower body more. This seemed to help re-strengthen her husband's lovemaker, but it still didn't become as firm as she wanted it.
She resented Harold for not being able to give her all she required, but she was determined to make the most of what he offered. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper into her flesh-cove, and she bobbed her hips, slapping her buttcheeks against the table-top.
Had Harold not given his best to someone else within the last three hours, he would have been wildly excited by the vision of his wife spread wantonly on their kitchen table, her tits springily bobbing as her wet vagina worked on his laggard cock. He placed his hands on her stiff-nippled mounds, and that helped some. He put his hips into motion.
It was not the kind of fucking Barbara longer for. There was no animalistic fervor about it. The carrot had been more firm! But she drove her needy cunt against Harold, grinding her fluff-adorned labia into his bristly bush, feeling his balls in her crotch.
Harold strove with equal desperation to achieve a climax, his testicles protesting the excessive demand being placed upon them. He sweated and groaned. He pulled at Barbara's tits. His semi-limp penis churned in her hungry hole and gradually, agonizingly, lifted them toward a mutual climax.
"Give me more!" Barbara begged. "Push it deeeeep-errrr!"
Harold could scarcely push it at all. But he kept twisting inside her moist, heated sheath, furnishing what stimulation he could. Barbara's voracious cunt gulped at his listless meat, as if she were trying to chew it up and digest it.
She panted and moaned, "Nowwwwww! Ooh ... my Goddd ... NOWWWW!"
She bumped passionately. Harold gasped and responded as best he could.
She climaxed softly, and his balls pained him as they gave up a feeble ejaculation. He was grateful that the ordeal was over.
Barbara was vexed. She had the right to expect more from her husband than he had given her, she believed, especially after she had degraded herself with the carrot and all. Shame mingled with her frustration to bring on a depressed, sullen mood.
She didn't speak to Harold as she went to bed alone, leaving him to prepare and drink the soothing warm milk which his shattered nerves required.
Chapter Three
Barbara paced her ranch-style home, glancing frequently at the clocks in the living room and kitchen. She couldn't seem to settle down to work. She wasn't dressed for housework, anyway, in her smart skirt and blouse with fancy undies and gartered stockings.
She was dressed for Gary, because she thought he might drop in. It had been three days since he had been there. Though Barbara was hoping to see him, even a phone call would have been welcome.
Perhaps the pictures hadn't turned out well, she worried. If so, she might never hear from Gary again.
From time to time, the whole thing seemed crazy. Maybe Gary had just been stringing her along, having fun by getting her to expose herself. He obviously had enjoyed that. He had gotten a hard-on, hadn't he?
I'll bet his cock is really something! Barbara lewdly thought. Big and stiff! It wouldn't go flabby on me like Harold's did last night.
Frustration impelled her to paint a lurid mental picture of Gary's prick, as she imagined it: Stiff and high-standing, like Harold's had been when they were first married, but bigger ... so huge that it would stuff her little cunny, stretching her elastic membranes as it surged deep inside her to satisfy every erotic impulse which Harold's neglect had given rise to.
But I have no right to Gary's body! she reminded herself. I'm a married woman. Even if I weren't, I couldn't bring myself to play around with a man I wasn't married to!
OR COULD I?
The doorbell rang, startling Barbara out of her unorthodox musings. Her spirit surged as she hurried to the door. She feared, just before she opened it, that the caller would be some jerk selling brushes ... or one of her empty-headed neighbors.
"Hi, there!" Gary grinned.
Barbara's heart did a joyous flip. A warm, melty sensation seeped through her, centering between her thighs.
"Well, hello!" she said, returning the handsome fellow's smile as her cheeks glowed. She felt embarrassed as a schoolgirl on her first date.
"May I come in?" Gary asked.
"Ooh, yes! Of course!"
Barbara nervously but happily opened the door wide and Gary entered, carrying his camera on a tripod and his light standards, which had been leaning against the house.
"Don't tell me you want to take more pictures!" she exclaimed, surging with even greater excitement.
"Yeah, I do!" He stood his equipment up and turned to face her. "My friend really was impressed by the first set I showed him. He thinks he can use you. But he wants to see some more. You don't mind, do you?"
"Some more of ... we?" Barbara asked.
"That's right."
Barbara blushed stronger. "But I showed you just about everything the other day."
"Just about isn't quite enough."
"You mean ... I have to strip naked?"
Gary smiled disarmingly. "Let's just see how the session goes. We'll start out like we did before, with some flirty poses."
"Can I see some of those pictures you took?" Barbara dared ask.
"I'm afraid I didn't make up an extra set of prints. My friend kept the only ones I had. He's quite interested in you."
"The pictures turned out good?"
"Better than good. Baby, you're terrific! You've got a natural talent for this sort of thing."
"Well ... goodness!" Barbara laughed nervously. "I would never have believed it."
"Sit down over there on the sofa. Oh, what are you wearing underneath that pretty outfit?"
"Panties and a bra," she said with some embarrassment. "And stockings."
"Clip-ons again?"
"Yes."
"Great! In those first pictures, your thighs looked luscious above your stocking tops, with those sexy garters pressing against your skin. Lots of men dig that. I've got to confess, I'm one."
Barbara was thrilled by his praise, and she couldn't help sweeping a shameful glance over the front of his trousers. They were snug, revealing the bulge of his relaxed but sizeable sex organs.
Get hold of yourself, she thought sternly. Nothing's going to happen! You won't let it!
She sat on the sofa, keeping her silken-clad knees demurely together as they peeped out from under her dress hem. She waited tensely while Gary readied his photographic equipment.
"Now then ..." he said, after getting all set up and focused, "let's begin with some leg art. Lean back and lift your knees. Just let your skirt fall away."
"This still embarrasses me," she said, hesitating as her giddiness increased.
"Nonsense!" Gary replied. "You should be proud of your beauty."
He waited, realizing that he didn't have to say any more. Finally she leaned against the back of the sofa and did as he had instructed, lifting her flexed knees and aiming them to the side while keeping them together. Her skirt skidded to her lap, exposing full, ivory-toned thighs above her expanded stocking tops. Her garter straps were drawn taut.
"Yes!" Gary approved, and snapped a picture. "Now let your knees swing wide apart."
"What?" Barbara dropped her feet to the floor.
"Lift 'em and spread 'em, honey!" Gary said. "I want to see the center of your panties."
"B-but that isn't ... quite decent. Is it???"
"Let me worry about that. Just raise your legs in the air once again and keep your knees bent. Allow your lower legs to dangle as you spread them wide apart."
Barbara knew she shouldn't give him that kind of pose, despite what he had said. It wasn't respectable. But the excitement which had gripped her was irresistibly carrying her along, like a leaf on a swift-running stream.
She followed the handsome man's orders, lifting her stocking-clad knees and parting them ... wider and wider, until they were swung as far apart as she possibly could spread them.
Gary gazed lustfully through his view-finder at her enticing crotch. A narrow strip of peach-pink panty didn't conceal all her intimate charms. The nylon actually enhanced and dramatized the view as wispy auburn curlies escaped along its elasticized edges and her plump buttocks bulged softly forth, her panties having partially been caught between the delightful swells.
The inner surfaces of her wide, firm thighs were baby-soft and smooth. Her stocking tops stretchily embraced the tapering columns. Her upraised knees and dangling lower legs invited a man to lunge at her and sink his sexual spear into her warm, moist depths.
To accomplish that, he would have needed only to get past the slight nylon barrier of her panties, and Gary's next instruction seemed designed for that purpose:
"Just keep your legs up and pull your panty crotch aside."
"No!" Barbara exclaimed, once again dropping her feet to the floor. But she kept her legs spread, and her skirt remained lap-high.
"Come on, honey," Gary patiently coaxed. "Don't go bashful with me now. You know you want to show my camera everything you've got. It's all so pretty!"
Barbara's brain swirled. She did want to show everything she had, she shamefully realized. Her body was wickedly athrob. Her pussy was wet.
"Oooooooh ...!" she whimpered, as if she were about to get screwed, and she raised her legs for the third time. She scootched her bottom to the edge of the sofa, spreading her thighs just as wide as before, and she daringly stretched the crotch of her panties aside.
The pink nylon pulled out from between her cheeky buttocks, exposing her open asscrack and the full, glorious splendor of her cunt.
Gary grinned as he clicked his camera lens, photographing the delightful scene. Barbara thrilled wildly. Then ashamed of herself, but still tremendously excited, she let her panties snap back.
"Marvelous!" Gary said. "You have a delectable body!"
"Do you really think so?" she breathlessly asked.
"I know it! Now stand, honey, and take off your skirt and blouse."
Barbara didn't argue. She had gone too far for silly quibbling. Caught up in the forbidden excitement of showing herself to the camera-and to Gary, as well-she quickly obeyed his command, though her fingers trembled. In moments she stood blushing in just her bra, stockings and panties.
The handsome photographer straightened up from behind his camera, and she saw that he again had acquired an erection. The front of his trousers was like a mountain peak!
Barbara felt dizzy. She shut her eyes. Her cheeks glowed brightly.
"Take off your bra, baby," Gary coaxed. "Let's see those lovely tits of yours."
Throbbing to a wild, giddy passion which responded even to his use of vulgar words, she pulled her flimsy brassiere away. Her projecting springy-soft breasts quivered in the nude, her rosy nipples sticking out and slightly upward.
"Hold it right like that, precious," Gary said, and his shutter snapped. "Now turn to the side. Give me a profile of those pretty knockers."
Riding on the crest of a wicked thrill, Barbara did so.
"Now face the other way," Gary directed.
The bewildered housewife turned away from him, her legs feeling rubbery but looking firm and sleek. Her panties were puckered, the flimsy nylon partially caught between her buttcheeks, the elevated elastics revealing the lower portions of her plump mounds.
Gary snapped another shot.
"Hook your panties right in the center at the back, with one finger," he said, "and stretch them down, away from your beautiful buns."
"Yesss ... yesssss ..." she hissed, out of her mind with excitement.
Gary took a picture of her bare behind.
"Now take your pants off, baby," he purred.
Barbara was too far gone to balk even at that. She stripped her panties down. Bending as demurely as she could, with her bottom aimed to the side, she picked the stretchy garment off her feet, then dropped the pink puff onto the carpet.
She scarcely had straightened up before Gary ordered her to bend forward again. "Aim your pretty ass right at me!" he said.
Oh, please ... no! Barbara thought. Not that!
But she did it.
Her shaggy, puffy-lipped cunt peeped out from between the tops of her thighs, where they joined her plump buttocks. Gary took a shot. However, he was frustrated in his wish to capture her brown eye on film, because her buttocks were so round and set so closely together that they concealed their secret.
"Spread your legs wider apart!" Gary commanded, his voice having acquired a harsh edge.
Barbara spread her legs, while remaining bent forward, but not far enough to afford the photographer more than a shadowy glimpse of what he desired.
"Get down on the sofa!" he said stridently. "Head first! Kneel and press your face against the cushion. Show me lots of ass!"
"Oooooh!" Barbara murmured, as if in mental torment. However, she complied with the shocking request.
"Aim it more this way, baby!" Gary instructed. "Keep one knee on the edge of the sofa and slant the other leg out, your foot on the floor."
She did that, and her uptilted asscheeks parted widely. There it was-the enticing dimple of tiny beige puckers secreted between her pale, billowy mounds.
"What a pretty asshole, baby!" Gary lewdly said as he snapped a picture of it.
"Aaaaawww!" Barbara bleated in thrilled dismay. She wiggled her split ass to and fro.
Gary came out from behind his camera, and she watched him blearily, her cheek pressed against the sofa seat. The front of Gary's trousers looked as if they had a tentpole in them.
Barbara throbbed, her heart thumping crazily. She didn't know what she wanted- or, if she did, she wouldn't admit it to herself. However, her shocking posture made her available for most anything.
Gary touched her ass.
She cooed as her buttocks shimmied to his rubbing caress, "Oooooo, what a touch you have!"
"Want some finger?" he asked, almost casually, and he felt down her wet vulvae slit.
"Oooooh, my Godddd ...!" she said raspily as he went ahead and slipped his middle digit up her flared, oily cunt. Her brain swirled while he wiggled his finger in her clasping passage.
Shamefully appreciative of the lascivious penetration, she began to hunch.
Gary added a second finger to the job as she bumped her bottom quiveringly. He stroked his other hand up and down her outer thigh, across her tightly cinched stockingtop and along the garters that pressed her firm, smooth flesh.
"D-dooo ittt!" she teeth-chattered. "God! Oooh, shit!"
She was drunk with lust. Gary could have fucked her, and they both knew it. Instead, he close merely to diddle her yearning twat with two fingers, sinking them as far as they would reach into her flesh-well, then pulling them out and sticking them in again.
She wiggled her bottom wantonly, her back concavely arched. Her tingling nipples were stimulated as they rubbed against the coarse fabric of the sofa.
She could see over her shoulder, though her eyes were glassy, that the hump in Gary's pants hadn't gone down a bit.
What's the matter with him? she wondered. Doesn't he want to get off!
NOBODY wants to screw me any more!
She bumped wildly as her gushing vaginal glands made her fuckway butter-slick. How her lovemaker longed to clutch hold of a big, fat cock! But all she had were those two silly fingers, stroking up and down in her slit.
She panted and moaned.
Suddenly Gary pulled his gooey-wet fingers from her sump and touched the middle one to the tight brown dimple of her ass. A scorching thrill went through her.
"OOOOOH!" she cried, continuing to bump and grind.
Gary had to push only a little to penetrate her sphincter, and her hot ass enveloped his slippery probe, to the first knuckle.
"AAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWW!" she moaned shamefully. She was hotter than she had ever been in her life before.
The man pushed his finger deeper into her anus, sinking it to the second knuckle. Her tight nether ring was like a circular vise.
She had never felt such a giddy sensation. It was wild and deliciously wanton.
Gary pushed his finger even deeper into her asshole until her tight passage encompassed the entire length of his lascivious digit. He stroked it in and out while she bumped and ground her hips wantonly, wallowing in the obscene pleasure of his perverse frigging.
Finally he brought his other hand into play, giving her three fingers up the fuckhole. He goosed her with both hands as she gasped and mewled mindlessly:
"Ooooooh, shit! You filthy man! GIVE it to me! Wowwwwwww! Oooh, yesssssssss!"
One fist socked between her soft, quivering buttocks as the other diddled her pulsating cunt. Her senses swirled. She seemed to soar through a pink realm of palpitating pleasure, so warm and rich that it totally possessed her. She throbbed. Her bottom jerked spastically. She came, her buttocks shaking as her hot cunt clutched at the fingers that were sunk within it.
Gary drew his hands away, one slurpily from her snatch while the finger of his other hand popped from her tight anus. She collapsed against the sofa, breathing hard.
She had never felt so ashamed.
When she finally turned her head to look at the man who had humiliated her, her eyes goggled. He had unzipped his pants, and his prick was sticking out. It was thick and long, its rosy head bulging like a ripe tomato. It was every bit as big and hard and beautiful as she had known it would be.
Gary said, "I've got to get off. Take hold of my cock with your hand."
She turned and sat on the sofa, trembling. She saw that he was clutching her abandoned underpants.
When she curled her fingers around his lovemaker and squeezed it, her eyes rolled. His shaft was like iron! Oh, God!
She pumped her hand on his upthrust organ, discovering that the skin around its shank was loose and could glide up and down across the horny ridge of his cockhead. She stroked his rigid, thick column faster and faster. She felt a new, giddy delight.
"Ooooh, why don't you FUCK meeeee?" she moaned wantonly.
"This will do ... for now," he said, breathing hard.
She jacked him off as hard and fast as she could, knowing how to do it because she had done it a few times for Harold during her menstrual periods when they were first married. She hadn't liked it then. She loved it now. And it felt different with Gary, because he had that loose skin which her husband didn't possess.
She stared at his beet-red, swollen cockhead, gleaming with clear moisture which had seeped from its tip. His shaft surged rhythmically upward in the semi-circle of her clutching, stroking fingers, so thick that she couldn't get her hand all the way around it.
He fucked into her pumping hand, rocking on the balls of his feet. His cock was aimed right at her face.
Suddenly he gasped raspingly, then gave a voluptuous groan. His prick twitched in Barbara's gasp. Just when she feared she might get the full blast of his sperm in her face, he slapped her silk panties over the head of his cock to catch the gushing, musk-scented eruption.
He continued to groan and lurch, nuzzling his cockhead in her soft panties. Barbara kept hold of the shank of his quivering organ as she watched milky wetness seep through the fabric of her pink briefs.
Finally he was through, and he stepped backward. He wiped off his cockhead with a dry portion of her panties and dropped the soggy garment onto the rug. He rolled his foreskin back onto the head of his softening penis and stuffed the organ into his clothes, then zipped up.
Barbara watched in amazement as he calmly unplugged his photo lights, then folded up their standards and his camera tripod. He smiled at her, as if nothing untoward and happened.
"I'll get back to you," he said, and walked to the door, carrying his gear.
"Wait!" she exclaimed, jumping up. "I ... I don't understand any of this!"
"There's nothing to understand. I just got excited. I'm sorry. I hope I didn't offend you."
"Yes, you did!"
He stared at the suburban housewife who wore only her stockings and garter belt.
"I am sorry," he said softly once more. "You're a very appealing woman. You're going to get the job I've been talking about."
"When will I see you again?"
"In a day or so."
"Can't you be more definite?"
He flashed another smile. "It depends on this friend of mine. He has to see the pictures and approve them."
"And then?"
"Then I'll bring you the good news."
"Just what ... kind of modeling is this? I want you to tell me exactly."
"For men's magazines. Bare ass."
Barbara shuddered and shut her eyes. "I was afraid so."
"Go on. You're looking forward to it."
Her eyes popped open, and she stared at him. "You're not very nice sometimes. I'm not sure I like you after all."
"You don't have to. But you'll like what I'm putting you onto. Good-bye, Barbara."
He walked out.
Chapter Four
When Gary next presented himself at Barbara's door, he wasn't alone. The man with him was older, perhaps forty-five, and slightly built, with a dapper little mustache and a sleek, confident air.
"This is Art, the friend I told you about," Gary announced as he entered, carrying his photographic gear. "Art, meet Barbara."
"You're even prettier than your pictures," Art said, his bold eyes flicking over her.
She blushed, realizing he had seen all of her in the daring poses Gary had photographed.
"I believe I can use you," he went on. "There's just one thing I'm in doubt about."
"Yes?" Barbara asked quickly, surprised by her own eagerness.
"I wonder how you will do in action poses."
"I ... I don't understand."
"Well, some of the magazines use models to illustrate their stories. That requires some acting talent."
Barbara glanced nervously at Gary, who was setting up his equipment in front of the sofa.
"It's nothing to be afraid of, babe," he said casually. "You can handle it just fine. Now, why don't you strip down?"
"In front of both of you?" she asked.
"Honey, you've got to realize," Art put in, "that when you're modeling in a studio there'll be lots of people around. You've got to get over your modesty."
Barbara bit her lip and stared at him. She was trying to imagine herself in the kind of situation he'd described and had trouble doing so.
"I'm not sure I want to be a model after all," she said.
Art glanced at Gary, and the younger man came out from behind his camera.
"Look," he told Barbara, "I realize how you feel. This is all new to you. But believe me, you'll enjoy it. Just slip off your outer clothes and we'll run through a quick tryout."
He reached to unfasten her dress and, in her confusion, she let him do it. Almost before she knew what was happening, the man had pulled her dress off in the presence of his friend. As usual, when she was expecting Gary to come around, she wore a garter belt and stockings, with panties and a bra. Today her bra was white and her panties were of a pink and white floral design, clinging sleekly to her rounded hips and the cheeky curves of her ass.
"Delightful!" Art exclaimed, his eyes moving appreciatively over her. "I couldn't ask for a more appealing leading lady."
He began to take off his clothes.
"Wait!" Barbara cried, blushing stronger than ever. "What are you doing?"
"He's going to pose with you for some of those action shots," Gary said while Art continued to disrobe. "Don't get nervous. It's all very professional."
Barbara stared in consternation at the small man with the neat iron-gray hair as he stripped down to candy-striped shorts. Gary re-positioned himself behind the camera.
"I don't think I want to do this!" Barbara said, her eyes flicking nervously from one man to the other.
"Let's just try a few poses," Art replied, ignoring her objection. "First take off your brassiere."
"Gary ...?" she breathed helplessly.
"Go ahead, babe," he urged. "We'll treat you nicely. Won't we, Art?"
"Indeed!" the older man said, smiling as he looked at her.
Barbara seemed to have no choice. How could she chicken out now, after leading Gary to believe she wanted the modeling job?
Embarrassed, she reached behind her to unhook her bra.
Both men stared at her pert, jiggly tits which bobbed into view. Her tension heightened. Stripping in front of two men was twice as embarrassing-but twice as exciting, also-as stripping in front of just one. She thought about what had happened the last time with Gary and wondered if anything like that would happen today. Surely not, she decided-not with two men there!
Stripped to her stockings and briefs, she hooked a thumb around the narrow elastic band at the top of the silky, floral patterned undergarment. "My p-panties, to?" she asked, red-faced.
"No, dear," Art replied. "You can keep your pants on for the moment."
Barbara had little opportunity to weigh the significance of his last three words, because he immediately yanked his shorts down, and she goggled at the biggest prick she had yet seen. This was especially startling because Art was a small man. Already semi-erect, his love organ curved thickly forward, its purplish bare head nodding. His balls looked as if they belonged to a bull.
"Oooh, please!" Barbara exclaimed. "Do you have to ... expose yourself?"
"You know, Gary," Art remarked, "I think the first thing our girl ought to do is get over her bashfulness about peckers."
"Yeah, definitely!" the photographer agreed as Barbara blushed.
"Wh-what do you mean?" she stumblingly asked.
"Come over here," Art said, "and take hold of my cock."
"Must I?"
"Do it, babe," Gary advised. "Art's dingus is just like mine. You played with mine last time, remember? Art, she gave me a damned good hand job!"
Why did he have to say THAT? she wondered in embarrassed consternation as she stepped over to the naked man. Her bare breasts jiggled, jutting elliptically forward, and her pink-beige nipples were cocked. Her panties clung silkily to the generous, quivering cheeks of her behind. Her thighs were mouth-watering above her tightly gartered stockings.
Art's penis had risen to near straightness before she had a chance to touch it and, when her delicate fingers curled around the thick shank and tightened on its warm turgidity, his erection became complete. His huge cockhead, rosier now, aimed lewdly up at her.
"Wh-what do you expect me to dooooo?" she asked the small man as she stared at him in chagrin while holding his amazingly large, upthrust dick.
"Why not kneel down," he suggested, "and look over my cock at close range?"
"Oooh, I don't want to do thaaaaat!" she protested.
"You see, Gary?" Art said. "She's afraid of peckers."
"No, she's not," the photographer insisted. "Show him, Barbara."
"I didn't realize modeling was ... going to involve ... things like this," she faltered.
"You've got to be unflustered and professional," Art advised. "Now get down."
As had been the case from the very beginning with Gary, Barbara seemed to have no opportunity to refuse. She was just swept along. Tingling with tension, she sank to her knees, causing her bare tits to joggle.
"Now get real close to my cock," Art said with persuasive gentleness as his hand threaded into her hair. "Take hold of it again. Move it around. Look at it from all angles."
Barbara grasped and manipulated his torpedo of blood-engorged flesh and became more impressed by the moment. She had heard that older men weren't as virile as young ones, and she had assumed that small men had small sexual equipment; neither of those propositions were true in Art's case. His cock was a whopper, and it was turgid with lust! Its subtle scent curled up her nostrils, which she unconsciously flared. Her pulse pounded.
"Get closer yet," Art coaxed, his hand remaining in her hair. She didn't see the wink he gave Gary, or the photographer's knowing smile in return.
Barbara leaned closer to Art's erect penis. Its oddly enticing aroma made her head light.
"Do you like it?" Art asked a bit huskily.
She was so hungry for a big prick that could thoroughly satisfy her that she shamefully hissed, "Yesssssss."
"That's the girl," Art said, gently massaging her scalp. "Show me how much you like it." He hesitated momentarily, then added, "Give it a lick!"
The lewd suggestion reverberated in Barbara's mind, shocking her in multiple waves. Yet there was a compelling quality about the idea which she couldn't comprehend. To lick a man's cock would be awful! Still, unbelievably, something made her want to do it. Did that big thing which was sticking up in front of her have the power to hypnotize somehow?
Barbara's ears buzzed and her senses swirled as she leaned close to the fragrant, floridly swollen shaft. Her lips parted slightly. Her tongue-tip tremblingly appeared.
Art yanked her head, smacking her tongue-protruding mouth against him, and the contact was made.
"Aaaaawwwwwwng!" Barbara groaned, her eyes shutting as she licked the trunk of Art's sex-tree. Its top rubbed the tip of her nose, and she seemed to be drowning in the scent.
"Yeah, baby ... lick it all over!" Art commanded as he continued to hold her against him.
Both he and Gary watched intently, though the passion-starved housewife couldn't see them. She couldn't see anything, because her eyes remained shut. She could only feel the rockhardness of Art's veined shaft against her shamefully licking tongue as she breathed in gust after gust of his man-scent which, instead of repelling her as she had anticipated, drove her on.
Her tongue slithered onto the bald knob that topped Art's immense pecker, and she licked his slippery, satin textured bulb all over, picking up its special tang. When his springy-stiff cock threatened to get away from her, because of the ardor of her licking, she grasped its thick stem to steady it. Her rosy tongue, in swiping over the domed crest, took up some clear moisture he had exuded.
She was caught in a giddy spiral, which seemed to be pulling her down, down, down. She wanted to engulf Art's prick in her mouth. She felt she had to do that!
Her lips opened wide and she gave a twist of her head as another passionate groan escaped her throat, partially muffled by the meat which she was about to ingest. She screwed her small mouth snugly onto Art's huge cockhead, taking the whole bulb inside. Her senses reeled to the tangy man-flavor, the rich scent, the chockful feel of his sex organ stretching her lips and throbbing against her tongue.
Her eyes popped open, and she found herself staring at the man's hairy stomach. Focusing on the shaft which projected obscenely from his bush into her face, her eyes crossed. She shut them again and let her other senses rollick as she lewdly began to suck Art's long, wicked cock.
You're awful! she told herself. This is so nasty! You shouldn't be doing it! But doesn't it feel good ... and taste good ... and even SMELL good! DON'T YOU JUST LOVE IT!!!
Barbara sucked heatedly on the man's throbbing flesh-bone, and her spirit soared. She couldn't understand why she enjoyed the act so, when it obviously was filthy!
Art's gripping hands moved her head forward and back, which caused her encircling lips to skid an inch or so each way on his prick. She liked the added tactile stimulation which the sensitive nerve-endings in her lips received.
Light flashed against her closed eyelids, but that seemed merely like a manifestation of her own excitement-flares going off in her brain. She didn't realize that Gary was standing behind a camera, taking pictures of her as she sucked his partner's cock.
Art rocked forward and back, fucking her small mouth with delight. His loglike prick throbbed between her circular, rosy lips. Her tongue tickled his sensitive glans. His swaying balls churned with lust, until finally they pulled up snugly against the base of his shaft, and he was faced with the choice of either driving for a finish in the young housewife's mouth or pulling off her panties and letting her have it in the conventional way.
Convention won, because Art didn't wish to shock the woman excessively. She might have rebelled, which would have been too bad considering how well she had come along, up to that point.
Art drew back, and his meaty plunger broke from her lips with a suctioning Pop! His wet phallus bobbed almost straight up, and Barbara blinked, gazing at it.
Before she could orient herself, or reflect on the nasty act she had committed, Art scurried around behind her and dropped to his knees. The pressure of his hand against her back placed her in doggy position, and he took only a moment to admire the shapeliness of her generous bottom which expanded to drumskin tautness her pink-posy underpants. Down her nylon panties came, and he stared at bare, beautiful buttocks aiming skyward above a hairy, moist slot which invited his horny thrust.
Finally getting her head together, as he pulled her stretchy briefs out from under her knees, Barbara realized what an awful thing it would be to let him fuck her while Gary looked on and perhaps-heaven forbid!- took pictures of it.
But it was too late to resist. Art had already denuded her, except for her garter belt and stockings, and he had her in a position where she was extremely vulnerable. All it took was the downward pressure of his hand against her back and the shoving of his thighs against the backs of hers to keep her there. His big prick stuck up above her rump, and his balls nudged her asscrack.
She wasn't all that anxious to resist, anyway, even though she was ashamed. She hadn't had a real hard cock up her cunny in a long time, and she had never had one as large as Art's. All she did was squirm, which excited the horny, middle-aged stud all the more.
He deftly twisted his hips, while pushing his prick down, and its bald knob pressed the moist, hair-edged slit at the base of her torso. She gasped at the intimate contact, thrilled stronger when she felt her tender, elastic labia being stretched apart, then moaned as Art's hugeness powered up her narrow passage, stuffing her full of throbbing, hard man-meat.
"Ooooooooooooooh!" she said, grinding her hips.
Gary took a shot.
By that time Barbara cared about nothing but the wonderful thick stiffness that was rammed up her cunt. Art felt so big in her little-used vagina that the pressure against her nerve-ends was intense. As she swirled her wet, warm cunt around his husky probe, her excitement heightened.
She began to hunch forward and back before he even put his hips into gear. Pushing up on her arms, she let her dangling breasts sway like tolling bells, and she tossed her head, her eyes shut, her mouth panting.
Gary took another picture.
Finally Art began to move, driving forward and back in the soft, wet center of Barbara's flesh-typhoon.
"OOOH!" she panted. "GODDD! YESS! Ooh, fuck meeeeeeee!"
Gary pulled at his horny pecker through his pants, while trying to get another shot. But he was too excited to work his camera. He ran from behind it, while unzipping his trousers on the way.
By the time he dropped to his knees in front of Barbara, his prick was spearing out and upward through his fly. A stroke of his encircling hand pulled the foreskin back off his rosy bulb.
Barbara blinked, confronted by a cock at the front of her while continuing to get the other one rammed up her pussy from the rear. That felt better and better with every thrust, and the one sticking up in front of her face looked as good as the other felt.
She reached out and snatched the tempting, thick-handled lollipop. Her hungry mouth lunged for the goody. Gary gave a raspy groan as her wet, slippery lips glided over the crown of his cock. She locked her lips in the groove behind his cockhead and licked the tasty knob while she sucked.
Gary reached underneath her and grasped her tits. He pulled down on her springy boobs, pinching her stiff nipples with every stroke.
All the while, Art pumped into her from the rear, stretching and rippling her vagina and causing a fine spray of her wetness to issue forth with every thrust.
"Ghhaaahhhg ... ghaaahhhhnnng ... gl-aahhhhgh!" she groaned against her mouthful of prick as she champed and sucked on it, saliva dribbling down her pretty chin.
Getting two cocks at once was more than she had hoped for. It was almost as much as a girl could possibly ask. But, oh, how wicked! How nasty! She had turned into a slut!
On all fours, she undulated, her back rippling from hips to shoulders, as she took the thrusting pricks at both ends. Jab-jab-jab, Gary gave it to her in the mouth. Pump-pump-pump, Art fucked her from behind. One cock stimulated the sensitive nerve-ends in her stretched lips as its rounded thickness rubbed her tongue; the sucking gave her very special pleasure which she couldn't define. The other phallus made her crammed full pussy sing with delight as the meaty plug twisted and stroked, rubbing all the nerve-ends in her cuntal walls.
She was jacked upward and upward, with every stroke, into a rarefied realm of tense expectancy. Every nerve in her body was taut. A few more strokes-into her mouth and up her pussy-were all she would need to get a blast of pleasure that would rock her body and soul.
Now! she thought. NOW! Ooooooh ... NOW!
She came, bumping and shaking, bawling against the prick that plugged her mouth. The spastic clutching of her tight vagina brought Art off, and his strong spurts struck deep into her vagina, giving her an even stronger burst of bliss. It was wonderful, satisfying all the pent-up frustration which her husband's neglect had caused.
Suddenly Gary pulled his prick from her mouth and, holding it so that it pointed directly at her face, he let go. Spurt after spurt of thick, musk-scented sperm splashed against her nose and lips and hastily shut eyelids.
Groaning and still climaxing, she crumpled into a used and soiled heap on the floor. She remained that way until the man had packed up their gear and taken off.
Chapter Five
She knew she wasn't going to become a model.
The whole thing had been a sick joke which Gary and his friend Art had perpetrated upon her, she believed. An elaborate rape scheme! She could only hope that there had been no film in the camera.
But even if there had been, what would the men do with the pictures? Just chuckle over them, she supposed-or use them as a masturbation aid, if such men masturbated. She had read somewhere that all men did, at one time or another, and she suspected that Gary-despite his good looks and smooth personality-might even prefer to get his kicks that way. Otherwise, why hadn't he raped her the very first time he had entered her house? Why build her up with all that silly talk about a modeling job, then let his friend have the fun of screwing her while he settled for a hand-job and-what did they call the oral stuff?-fellatio!
He was kinky, all right.
But wasn't she kinky, too, Barbara wondered? Shamefully she had to admit to herself that she had enjoyed taking the men's cocks in her mouth.
She shuddered at the realization of how low she had sunk. Well, she would just have to forget it somehow and put the degrading experience behind her.
Any thought of reporting the "rape" to the police was stifled by the possiblity-perhaps the likelihood-that there had been film in Gary's camera and that the pictures would show she had stripped and submitted to indignities voluntarily.
Yes, forget it if she could. That was the only thing to do.
She ought to concentrate on trying to improve her marriage, she thought, but she couldn't face the prospect of having sex with Harold so soon after her humiliating experiences with Gary and Art. She half-blamed Harold, anyway, for driving her to such depraved lengths. Her marital relationship remained at an impasse, and frustration began to gnaw at her once more.
The last thing she expected was for Gary to return to her house. That was why, when she opened the door in response to the bell and found him standing outside, she could only stare in bewilderment.
He grinned. "Aren't you going to invite me in, honey?"
She recovered her voice: "No!"
When she tried to shut the door in his face, Gary shoved it, causing her to totter backward. He entered the house and swung the door shut.
"You ... you bastard!" the usually well-spoken housewife exclaimed.
"Calm down now," Gary said, and slipped a hand inside his jacket. He withdrew some photo prints which he fanned out like a deck of cards and held for Barbara to look at.
Her eyes widened, and she sucked in her breath, as she took in the vivid, full-color shots of her naked and near-naked charms, alone and with Art. The picture of him screwing her from behind, and the sight of her lips wrapped around the thick shaft of his penis, so horrified her that she shut her eyes. Her heart pounded.
"Come on, it's not that bad," Gary said. "It won't be bad at all, long as you cooperate."
Putting the photographs back in his jacket pocket, he strolled to the sofa and sat down. "Got a tall cool one handy? It's a bitch outside. Must be in the nineties!"
Barbara stared at him, hardly believing he had the nerve to calmly walk in, show her those filthy photographs, then sit down and ask for a drink.
"Wh-why are you here?" she asked tremulously.
"Why?" He chuckled. "Shit, honey, you know I like you."
With color rising in her cheeks, she tried again: "What did you mean about me cooperating?"
"Oh. Well, we've got things to talk about. Today I'm going to level with you. No more modeling bullshit. Okay?"
Barbara took a chair opposite him and kept her knees primly together as her cotton skirt skidded above them. She wore no stockings.
"Tell me, then," she said, fearing what he might say but having to hear it.
"I could talk a lot better if I had a bourbon and soda to wet my throat."
"We don't have any soda," Barbara said.
"Water and ice, then. I'm not particular."
The tense, apprehensive woman got up and walked to the kitchen.
Blackmail, she decided. That's what the son of a bitch has in mind. I should have known! Well, I can't pay him much. What does he think-that I'm WEALTHY?
He followed her into the kitchen and slipped an arm around her waist as she reached into the refrigerator for the ice. His hand glided down to cup a plump buttock which was springily firm in her light skirt and panties. He let go, then gave it a slap, causing the pert buttock to smart and jiggle.
Barbara wanted to throw the ice tray in his face, but she just wiggled away from him and placed it on the sink counter. He moved up behind her, reached forward, and cupped both her tits.
"Ooooh, please ...!" she said plaintively, and shut her eyes. She began to tremble.
Gary kneaded her firm breasts through her blouse and skimpy brassiere. Her nipples came up hard, and he rolled the sensitive bumps. His front was shoved against her, and she could feel the thick roll of his penis nuzzling the crack of her ass.
"You ... you ... fiend!" she said, heating up despite herself.
Gary rolled her resilient tits while grinding his front against her. His cock stiffened, pressing between the cheeks of her fanny.
She began to pant. She squirmed. Finally she ripped herself away and turned, with her back pressed against the edge of the counter while her breasts rose and fell from her anguished breathing. Her thrusting nipples imprinted themselves on her white blouse.
"Get down and give me some head," Gary commanded.
"H-head?"
"A blow job." When he saw that she still didn't understand, he made it very plain: "Suck my cock!"
"Noooooh!"
"Go on. You know you dig it."
Gary unzipped his pants and pulled his penis out. Though his member had thickened and lengthened out, it was still limber. It looked like a rubber hose with an odd nozzle that appeared as he rolled his foreskin back.
He shook his cock arrogantly and said, "Take a taste."
Barbara's knees turned weak. Could a man-especially this man, whom she hated- just walk into her house and get her to do this filthy thing for him, just like that?
YES!
She sank to the floor and parted her moist pink lips as she lunged. She shut her eyes when she felt his smooth cockhead pry her lips wide apart and scrape between the even ridges of her teeth. His fat knob was lodged in her mouth, soaking in her saliva, and her lips tightened around the shank of his organ, which quickly attained iron hardness. She sucked, glugging and gurgling, then gulped her gushing saliva down.
"Thaaaat's the way, baby!" Gary crooned, petting her bobbing, sexy-short hairdo. His eyes glinted as he watched her devour his prick, and he smiled sardonically.
He pulled her head forward, shoving his prick rhythmically deeper into her sucking mouth, until it forged to the back of her tongue. She would have gagged on any other object pressed back there-but not on this big, fine-tasting pecker!
God, how she loved it!
She twisted her head, screwing her tight, warm mouth around the man's pumping prick, and her spirit took off on a soaring flight among the stars. Moisture broke through the lips of her pussy to dampen her briefs. Her throat opened and closed around the thrusting head of the man's sexual organ. Her wet lips skidded silkily on his shaft, tightening and relaxing as she sucked.
Suddenly Gary backed up, pulling his cock from her mouth. The big thing bounded up and down, stiff as an iron rod whose base was mounted on a spring.
He reached into his clothes and brought out his balls, which he pressed against Barbara's panting, parted lips. His cock stood up next to her nose, and she breathed in its rich manly scent as she licked his velvety nut-sac. Her eager tongue bobbled his balls to and fro, and he writhed, causing his upthrust dick to waggle across her nose like a semaphore.
Madly carried away by her passion, she licked underneath his nuts while they wobbled against her nose. She breathed in their sweaty scent and was stimulated even by that.
Gary drew back and gripped his stiff prick, holding it straight toward her. He swabbed it back and forth, along her lips as her tongue went wild, trying to taste and slicken every part of the knobbish head at once. Gradually he worked it between her lips once more, spreading them into a wide, sexy O, and he fucked in and out of her mouth with a vengeance while his balls bounced against her chin.
Barbara squirmed antsily while she sucked him. Her pussy was sizzling-hot. She wanted to flop down on the kitchen floor and take into the slit between her thighs the big prick that she was sucking.
She didn't know, however, whether Gary fucked.
He hadn't tried to fuck her before.
She bobbed her head heatedly on his splendid prick, the rosy circle of her lips fairly flying up and down on his long, sturdy shaft. She gulped down the juice that seeped from his sex-wand. Her head spun.
Finally she reached a point where mere sucking would no longer suffice, and she jerked her mouth pantingly from the man's rod.
"Oooh ... please ... please ... SCREW meeeee!" she begged.
"Stretch out!" Gary ordered, and he dropped to his knees on the vinyl tile.
Barbara flopped onto her back quickly, joyously, and she lifted her legs to strip her panties off. Kicking free of the stretchy briefs, she gave the man teasing glimpses of the hairy puff of flesh between her thighs. Then her elevated thighs spread widely, causing the blood-congested lips of her pussy to open like the petals of a pink, dewy flower.
Gary pushed his pants and shorts down, to avoid soiling them, then flopped atop the young housewife, finding her hot hole unerringly with the first thrust of his massive rod. Into her his big prick sank, inch after inch, spreading her cuntal passage and deepening it until his cockhead was rammed against the neck of her uterus. He was just about as big as Art. At least, he felt every bit as good inside her. He felt better than Harold had in a long time ... perhaps ever.
As Gary began to fuck his hard-throbbing pole in and out of her clasping, buttery slick vagina, she responded even more wildly than she had done with Art. Because, coming at her from the front as Gary was, he was pressing and stroking the tip of her clitty exactly right. Each gliding thrust of his thick, long cock gave her a sensuous message of raw passion.
She swiveled and slammed her hips against him. She panted and moaned. Her buttocks made a slap-slap-slapping sound against the vinyl floor, and her breasts jiggled in the confinement of her bra and blouse.
Gary yanked her blouse up around her neck. She helped him wiggle her flimsy harness away so that one, then two pink-nippled titties popped out to dance before his impassioned gaze.
Leaning on one arm as he stirred his prick inside her, he used his free hand to clutch and squeeze a satiny-textured breast. His thumb rubbed her nipple until she wanted to scream. Then he twisted his head and clamped his wet mouth down around her titty-crest, sucking and tugging on the sensitive erectile stem as he resumed his straight thrusts in and out of her pussy.
"Aaaaah ... oooooh ... I LOVE ittt!" she panted. "Keep GIVING it to meeeee!"
Gary lifted his head and let her titties bounce free as he ran his hands down between her buttocks and the floor. Clutching and asscheek in each hand, he wiggled her lower body as he drove his long lovemaker in and out. His squeezing manipulation of her ass caused her sheath to tighten and twist around his rod in a way she could not have accomplished by herself, giving both of them heightened pleasure.
She gasped from between moist, cherry-red lips. Her eyelids fluttered as her eyeballs rolled. She slammed fiercely against the man's pussy-impaling thrusts.
This was fucking as she had dreamed it could be, giving her all the luscious satisfaction that she needed.
"Oooh, what a COCK!" she cried. "It's so fat and long and haaard! Oooh, bay-beeeee, I love it! Keep sticking it into meeeee! Give me every inch you've got. It's a fucking monster! Oooh, you prick!"
She went into a mindless, whimpering babble which rose in pitch as she neared a climax. Finally she was shrieking and driving her hips with wild abandon. Gary had let loose of them and was propped on straight arms against the floor, watching her impassioned face and her jumping jugs as he drove thrust after powerful thrust into her man-hungry cunt.
She went over the first precipice of passion and started to tumble down the slope of satisfaction. But Gary didn't stop fucking her. He just went on and on-driving, ramming, swinging his balls into her crotch.
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!" she bawled stranglingly and started dizzily up another incline, going for a second climax. That would be a new experience for her.
Gary kept fucking his big cock into her convulsing vagina, and her sheath seemed to grab suckingly onto him as her mouth had done before. Still his well-greased pecker glided in and out, up and down, rippling her pussyflesh with his standout veins and his horny cockridge.
"Ooooh ... wowwww!" she panted, tossing her head from side to side. "That's tooooo much! You're driving me cray-zeeee! Oooooh!"
"Want me to stop?" Gary challenged, grinning tightly.
"Oooh, don't you dare!" she said heatedly. "I've got to ... get another one! Fuck! Oooh, baby ... FUCK!"
He increased the tempo of his fucking thrusts, slamming her bottom noisily against the floor. Her tits fairly leaped up and down, her nipples looking fit to burst. She gasped. Her eyes went wild. She clawed Gary, her heels drumming his flanks.
"Fuck me with your big cock!" she cried crazily. "Oooh, it feels so gooood!"
"Here comes the finish!" Gary rasped, speeding up even more. "Take it, cunt!"
"YESS! OOOH, MY CUNT LOVES IT!"
They finished together, she for the second time, and her brain swam in bliss as throbbing waves of pure pleasure rolled through her. Gary's spurt after spurt filled her vagina with his sperm.
She lay still, her mind reeling, as she sank into the deepest satisfaction she had ever known.
Gary pulled out and used her discarded panties to wipe off his slumping cock.
"Why ... didn't you do that before?" she asked, breathing hard. "The first time ... you came here?"
"I didn't want you to get hung up on me." He stood and restored his clothes. "You see, this isn't a personal thing."
"What do you mean?"
"Get up and fix us those drinks. Then I'll tell you."
When he laid it out for her, Barbara could scarcely believe she was hearing right:
"You like to screw. And you like to suck. We've proved that. Baby, let's face it-you like to play around with men. Well, my buddy Art and I are going to give you the chance to do just that and get paid for it. You're going to be a playgirl, honey, at fifty bucks a throw-more, if you can get it. And Art and I will let you keep half of everything you make. That's pretty good, considering that we'll be sending the Johns to you. You won't have to hustle your pretty ass at all."
"Wait a minute!" Barbara exclaimed. "You're saying that you want me to be a ... a prostitute!"
"That's kind of an ugly word," Gary, replied, rattling the ice in his glass. "Let's just say you're going to do what you like and get paid for it. What could be better than that?"
"B-but I'm married!"
"So who gives a shit? Obviously your husband isn't keeping you satisfied."
"I won't do it!" Barbara said firmly.
"Oh, yes you will." Gary's expression turned vicious. "Because if you don't, I'll send those dirty pictures of you to your husband at his office and to everyone of your neighbors, all up and down this block!"
Barbara stared at him in speechless shock.
"Art and I have a while string of bored housewives like you, who are working their lovely asses for us ... and having fun! I'm no fucking baby photographer. That's just an opening wedge I use to feel each woman out. If she agrees when I ask to take some sexy pictures of her, I know I've got a live prospect. Then I bring Art around to give her the final test. If she passes it, we've got her. And, baby, we've got you ... right by the titty-tit-tits!"
Barbara's lips parted. She continued to stare at Gary for several moments in silence, then she let out a shriek. She fell onto her side on the sofa, spilling her drink, and she began to sob.
The man stood and looked down at her without a trace of compassion.
"Think things over," he said, "then give me a call. Remember, I've got the negatives of the prints I showed you, and I can make enough copies to blanket this neighborhood. That will ruin you, sweets, and break up your nice marriage, too.
"On the other hand, if you cooperate, your husband and your friends will never find out. The tricks are all turned in motels. The Johns call our service, we set up the dates, then we call you. As far as anyone around here will know, you're just going out to shop. And all the dates are in the daytime, so your husband won't get suspicious."
Gary scribbled his phone number on a scrap of paper, dropped it beside Barbara, then walked to the door. "Like I say, think it over ... carefully. I'll expect to hear from you." He calmly finished his drink, set the glass on a small table near the door, and walked out.
Chapter Six
Run!
That seemed to Barbara the only solution, and she hastily threw some clothes into a couple of bags, withdrew a modest sum from the joint checking account she had with her husband, and moved to a motel in town.
Her note to Harold spoke cryptically of "problems I cannot face here," but she assured him she was not going to take her own life. She didn't want him to call the police.
Her intention was to build a new life for herself, with new friends and eventually a new man. That wasn't as traumatic a step as it might have seemed, because her marriage was on the rocks anyway, and she was in danger of being ruined in her friends' eyes.
Since her first necessity was to find a job, she set out to answer ads in the paper. The problem was that she had no skills, except for a rusty familiarity with simple filing, and her only work reference, as a lowly clerk, was five years old.
She received brusque turn-downs or vague promises to "get in touch with you if we have something" at the first few places where she applied. Foot-sore and discouraged, she arrived at a small accounting office, to find a harried man in shirtsleeves sweating behind a disheveled desk.
"Shit!" he exclaimed, as he gave up trying to find something amid the untidy mass of papers and books. Then, seeing the attractive and dignified young woman who had just walked in, he mumbled, "I'm sorry. It's just that ... what can I do for you?"
"I'm here in answer to your ad."
"Don't tell me! You mean there's someone who'll consider working for the minimum wage nowadays? You could draw almost as much on welfare."
Barbara raised her head haughtily. "I'm not a welfare case," she said. "I'm looking for a job."
The pudgy man's eyes swept her, and he asked, "What can you do?"
"Well, I ... uh ... can file and do general office work."
"You're hired! When can you start?"
Barbara blinked. "Right away, I guess."
"Good! My last girl quit to get married, or so she said. But I think she ran off with a guy who was peddling pencil sharpeners." The shirtsleeved man got up and rounded his desk. "I'm Joe McWilliams, C.P.A.-like it says on the door. Your desk is there in the corner. Can you type at all?"
"Well ... maybe a little."
"Hunt'n peck, huh? Christ, I can do that well! But there isn't much typing here. Anyway, there's a public stenographer down the hall who's got big tits and wears lowcut blouses." Joe grinned. "Did I shock you?"
"I've heard men talk about tits before," Barbara said.
Joe chuckled. "Great! So you're not narrow-minded. I was afraid maybe you were, because you look so ladylike. You married?"
"Uuh ... "
"Never mind. I get the picture. What's your name?"
"Barbara Paige." She had decided to use her maiden name, because that was how her social security card was made out.
"Okay, Barbara, I'll show you about the files. Then you can start cleaning up this mess around here."
After giving her a quick rundown on his filing system, which was simpler than the one she had worked with in the office where she'd met Harold, he returned to his desk and shuffled some papers into a brief case. "I'm late for an appointment. If anyone calls, tell 'em I'll be back sometime this afternoon, you don't know just when. Don't leave until I get here, okay?"
"All right, Mr. McWilliams."
"Call me Joe," he said, and bustled out of the office.
Barbara sank into a chair and breathed a deep sigh. At least, she had a job!
It was 4:30 when Joe returned. Barbara had tidied up the office, and he stood for a moment in the doorway, just staring at it.
"I, uh, took some messages," Barbara said.
"Looks like you've been workin' your cute little butt off!"
He was drunk, Barbara perceived. His eyes were red, and his voice was slurry.
"I got that new account," he said as he walked to his clear desk and threw his briefcase onto it. "Don't ask me how, 'cause I couldn't find some of my shit before I left here. But I got it! Ten grand a year, if I play my cards right! That calls for a celebration." He opened a drawer of his desk and brought out a bottle.
"I would say that you've been celebrating some already," Barbara replied.
He stared at her. "Hey, you're right upfront. I like that!" He sank into the swivel chair behind his desk. "Sit yourself down, and we'll have drink together."
"Really, I ... "
"Don't tell me you don't touch the stuff! I hate teetotalers."
Barbara sat next to his desk.
He poured hefty shots of Jack Daniels into two paper cups and passed one to her. "Bottoms up, baby!" he said, and gave a chuckle.
Barbara sipped the liquor and tried to keep from making a face. She wasn't used to drinking it straight. In fact, she had never drunk much at all.
Joe wolfed his down and poured a second. Barbara began to get worried. Some men became mean ... or very amorous ... after drinking too much, she had heard.
"You aren't drinking!" Joe accused.
"Well, uh, it isn't five o'clock yet. The office is still open, isn't it?"
"Fuck that! Go lock the door."
Barbara wanted to object to her boss's vulgarities, but she was afraid that in his present mood he might fire her. She walked to the door and locked it.
As she turned to walk back to his desk, he grinned. "You got a pretty ass!"
"Mister McWilliams ... uh, Joe ... perhaps if there's if there's nothing more that you want me to do ... "
"Sit down!"
His eyes were getting glassier, and his tongue became thicker each time he spoke. Barbara's apprehension heightened. She sipped her drink lightly.
"Nice legs, too," Joe said, and reached over to flip her skirt up her thighs.
Before Barbara pushed it down, he glimpsed white, full thighs above gartered stockings.
"Wowww!" he exclaimed. "Hey, I dig that! You're a smart gal not to wear pantyhose."
Blushing, Barbara twisted nervously on her chair. "You haven't, uh, forgotten about your callbacks, have you?"
"Are you kidding? I'm in no mood to talk business. What I'm in the mood for is fun!" His eyes twinkled lecherously.
Oh, no! Barbara thought. I just got a job, and now I'm going to lose it! When I refuse to give in to him, he's going to fire me for sure.
"Look ... " Joe said, leaning closer, "I hired you at the minimum, but that was before I got this snazzy new account. I can afford to pay a little more now ... especially to a gal who's friendly. Know what I mean?" He stroked Barbara's thigh, on top of her dress.
Barbara could use the added pay. It was going to be tough making out on eighty dollars a week, take-home pay, which was about what she had in prospect now.
But to be friendly to this drunken slob-did that mean, putting out? She might as well have stayed home and worked for Gary!
She eased Joe's hand off her thigh. "I think I'd better go," she said, and stood up.
He studied her, and he didn't seem quite as drunk as before. "Hundred and fifty a week to start," he said. "That's better'n a fifty percent increase. Are you gonna turn that down?"
Barbara shut her eyes, and she began to tingle. "What do I have to do for it?"
"Just be nice to me. Hell, I got a cold bitch of a wife! She's lost her figure, and she's got a tongue like a rattlesnake."
Barbara shifted her weight uneasily. She was beginning to feel the drink she had taken ... or something.
"I ... uuh ... don't like to think of myself as ... someone who ... does intimate things for money," she managed.
"So think of it as fun!" Joe brightened. "You're worth a hundred-and-fifty a week, anyway. Look how you tidied up my office!"
Barbara's eyes rolled. She was becoming strangely aroused. She had met Joe just that day, he was not very attractive and they were in an office, Still, oddly, she was stimulated by him. Or was it just the situation that she found stimulating-the power she seemed to have over this man?
"If I ... " She shivered. " ... j-just take my dress off ... so that you can see me in my stockings, garter belt, and panties ... will that be enough?"
"Baby, that's a terrific start!" Joe beamed.
Looking away, wile the rosiness in her cheeks deepened, Barbara unfastened her dress and drew it up, over her head. The man behind the desk stared lustfully at her tall, shapely figure, in white bra and panties, matching garter straps, and beige hose whose narrow welts were expanded around her full thighs.
"What a sight!" he husked. "You could be a Las Vegas showgirl!"
Barbara couldn't help feeling complimented, though she was embarrassed.
"Come over here," Joe said. "Sit on my lap a minute."
"B-but you were just going to look at me!" Barbara had trouble breathing.
"Honey! I only want to snuggle you a little! God damn, you wouldn't deny me that, would you?"
Her legs felt rubbery as she walked behind his desk, and he shoved backwards in his chair to make room. She sat on his lap.
He chortled. His breath was strong with liquor fumes. He was sweating.
Barbara tried to calm herself. He's too drunk to DO anything anyway, she thought, except maybe just PAW me a little. She shivered again.
"Are you chilly, sweetheart?" Joes crooned. "Heyyy, let me warm you up ... "
He wrapped his arms around her, bear-like, and rocked her against him. The tops of her titties quivered above the rims of her bra. Joe slid a hand to the mounds and rubbed them.
"So firm!" he breathed. His other hand fumbled with her bra hooks.
Barbara's brain went into a lazy spin, and her whole body turned hotter.
Joe pulled her bra away. "Aaaaw Christ, look at that!"
He basketed her bare tits between his pudgy hands.
She shut her eyes. Surprisingly sharp thrills shot through her as the unattractive accountant pulled at her stiff nipples and rolled the sensitive stems between his thumbs and forefingers.
He bowed his head and took one of her titties in his mouth.
Barbara tilted back her head and breathed through parted lips. Thrill after thrill spread through her sucked breast and down to the center of her body. She squirmed on the accountant's lap.
The warm, soft pressure of her panty-clad bottom seemed to evoke no response. At least, there was nothing rising from his loins to press rigidly against her.
He HAD drunk too much, she decided, but this no longer seemed an advantage from her standpoint. She was becoming very hot between the legs.
Joe smeared his wet lips from the crest of one titty and onto the other. He teased her nipple with his tongue, causing the responsive flesh of her breast to quiver. His hand glided down her front, across the elastic band at the top of her panties and onto the sleek, clingy nylon. He felt her pubic curls through the thin fabric. Her legs inched apart ...
He blubbered passionately against her breast as he stroked up and down on the warm, slippery crotch-strip of her panties, pressing it against the enticing softness within and dampening his fingers with the moisture she exuded.
"Fuck me!" she heard herself say as her brain helplessly swirled.
"Oooh, wowwwww!" Joe breathed boozily as he let her breast jiggle free. He hooked her panty-crotch aside and felt her warm, wet, hair-lined pussy.
"Uuuh!" Barbara jumped. "Let's use your couch! Pleeease!"
"Sit up on the desk!" Joe rasped. "I want to eat you first!"
"Ooh God, noooh! Please don't! Not thaaaat!"
Joe pushed the bottle of whiskey aside, nearly toppling it. Barbara sat next to his briefcase.
"Put your feet on the arms of my chair," he husked.
She did it, feeling utterly indecent. Joe gazed at her lovely thighs above her stocking tops, converging where her pulled askew panties revealed the auburn-haired lippiness of her oozing cunt. Her clit pushed its little hooded head out from between the soft folds.
Joe grasped her panties at both sides and pulled them out from under her bottom. She had to lean backward against her propped arms and lift her legs in the air to let him pull her pants off. He winged them across the room, and they hooked obscenely on the corner of a file drawer which was open about two inches.
His hands glided up Barbara's inner thighs, across her snug stocking tops and onto satiny, warm skin. His stubby fingers crept closer to her cunt.
Joe's fingertips caught the soft, damp edges of her vulva and stretched them apart. The inside of her velvet box was very pink and slick with moisture.
Barbara's embarrassment, as the man stared into her pussy, was spiked with giddy anticipation. He said he was going to 'eat' her and, though that sounded very filthy and degrading, she couldn't help wondering how it would feel.
"Lift your legs up onto my shoulders," he said as he leaned closer to the enticing feast.
Barbara did as directed, feeling even more ashamed. Her thighs swayed wide apart, and she leaned back on her arms.
Joe, continuing to hold her elastic cuntlips open, protruded his tongue and stuck it into the center of her luscious flesh-pudding.
"OOOH!" Barbara cried. The thrill was one of the sharpest she'd ever known.
And it didn't stop.
She kept right on thrilling as the dirty man wiggled his tongue in her flavorful, juicy twat, his lips suctioning on its soft rim.
"OH! UUH! DAMN!" she panted breathlessly, her hips bumping of their own accord. Her bare buttcheeks threatened to slide off the edge of the desk.
Maybe Joe was fat and sweaty and took advantage of girls, but he had a marvelous mouth ... and he knew just where to put it! Barbara thrilled crazily as he licked and sucked at her throbbing twat. Her thighs tightened to squeeze his head, and she locked her legs around the back of his neck. She bumped her warm, wet pussy against his tonguing mouth.
It was wonderful to be kissed that way-to be eaten-she found. It was driving her wild.
Her erectly swollen clitoris tingled to each touch of Joe's wiggly tongue. When he clamped his lips around her nubbin, she went ape.
"OOOH ... OOOH ... OOOH!" she chanted as she slammed her hips.
But as wonderful as it felt to have her pussy licked and sucked, she needed a prick inside her to bring her to a climax. She began to bawl for a screwing:
"PLEEEASE ... OOOOO! INEEEEEED ITTTT! FUCK ME, FUCK ME! OOH GOD, JOE, I NEED YOUR COCK!
He raised his head from her crotch, looking bleary-eyed and wet-mouthed. "You've got to help me!" he said, almost plaintively. "I goddamn drank too much!"
"Ooooooh!" Barbara whined, and slid off the desk, her titties bobbing as she let him push her down to her knees in front of his chair.
Yes, she would suck him! Anything to get him up!
Her hands fumbled with his trousers, opening them and pulling them out from under his rump, dragging his shorts along. He was hairy between the legs ... and distressingly soft. Barbara leaned close and began to lick him.
Holding his ropelike penis up, she tickled the ragged edge of his foreskin with her tongue. She became dizzy from the tang. She licked the damp tip of his glans which was exposed in the circle of foreskin, then peeled his loose hood back and took his little plum in her mouth.
He groaned, writhing in his chair as she sucked his cockhead. The sight of his curved, flaccid organ extending into her mouth, her rosy lips clasping it, her shadowed lids lowered, her fair cheeks wearing a blush ... all this helped the suctioning, licking feel of her eager mouth bring him to erection.
Soon she was skidding her o-shaped lips up and down on a bristling pole, passionately giving head, while Joe squirmed with delight.
They never made it to the couch.
He just pulled Barbara up onto his lap to straddle his naked loins. She wedged her knees between his thighs and the arms of his chair-uncomfortably, but comfort was not what she craved! She took his spearing prick into her moist, warm hole and she jogged up and down, her titties leaping in front of his face.
He took a football hold on each elliptical mound to steady them. Squeezing her rigid nipples forward, he swiped his wet tongue across first one tingling tip and then the other while she fucked his upthrust cock. She bore down to provide just the right contact between his shaft and her electric clitoris, and each stroke carried her farther into breathless abandon.
Joe clasped one of her quivering titties in his mouth and glided his hands down her sides, over her rounded hips. He rubbed her firm, smooth thighs, back and forth across the tops of her stockings, following her taut garter straps.
His roaming caresses caught two springy handfuls of jiggling ass, and he rubbed her buttocks up and down against each other while she screwed him. His fingertips entered between her satiny mounds, and he tickled the warm, crinkly dimple of her anus. She went wilder yet, bouncing heatedly and squirming around his pole. He fingered the greasy contact between her love lips and his stalk, feeling her hungry cunt devour his stiffness.
Barbara shut her eyes and fucked fiercely.
Never mind that her boss had practically made her do this! She was acting for pure pleasure now!
Joe bobbed in his chair as he clutched her wiggling asscheeks, driving his hard cock deep into her swirling flesh. Her titties bobbed against his face.
The chair creaked beneath them, threatening to give way. But they gave in first. The moment that Joe spurted, Barbara had an all-enveloping climax, and her pussy milked every last drop of jism up from his happy balls.
She fell forward, panting, her arms wrapped around his neck. His sweating face was pressed against her equally perspiring breasts.
What a way it had been to start a new job!
Chapter Seven
Alone in her motel room that evening, Barbara tried to understand herself. She had run away from her husband and her home, in order to avoid dates with other men for pay ... only to fall into the clutches of a lecherous boss who gave her a raise in return for her sexual favors.
Was there any difference?
Yes, she decided. Joe was just one man. She might even think of him as an "office husband". As for the raise, she deserved that anyway, as he himself had admitted. She wasn't selling her body. She really wasn't!
After coming to that firm conclusion, she was able to drop off to sleep.
While getting ready for work the next morning, she thought about Harold. To visualize him all alone, making his own breakfast, getting himself off to work, gave her a pang. But she couldn't go back to him. Especially not now! And what did they have together, anyway? Surely no relationship that a girl could build her life on!
That day Barbara's boss was all business, though he treated her nicely. She relaxed some. It wasn't going to be too rough a job, she decided.
While Joe was out on an appointment, the office door opened, and a bosomy blonde appeared. "Hi," she said, smiling warmly. "I've seen you coming in and out. My name is Marian. I'm in the stenographic office down the hall-you know, where the door's always open."
Oh, yes! Barbara thought. The girl that Joe mentioned.
She certainly does have big tits! 40's at least! And she wears her neckline low. She's probably a slut.
Barbara returned the blonde's smile and introduced herself.
"How you do you like working for old Sweaty Nuts?" Marian asked in a confidential tone.
Barbara blushed, unused to hearing women talk that way. She also was bothered by Marian's oblique admission of intimacy with Joe, even more by her assumption that Barbara was intimate with him, also.
"He seems like a considerate employer," Barbara said stuffily.
"Ooh, bullshit!" Marian replied. "He's a leech, and you know it. Did he give you that crap about his frigid-assed wife?"
"Well ... yes," Barbara admitted.
"Sure. That's what he tells 'em all. You ought to see his wife! She used to hustle drinks at the Hilton."
"I see," Barbara gulped.
"But Joey-boy's got a roving eye. Just don't let him get to you unless he pays you what it's worth."
Barbara's eyes flashed. "How come you're so interested in how I get along with my boss?"
"We're sisters, aren't we? Also, you seem like a nice person."
"Well, thank you."
"Do you swing?"
"What?"
"Both ways, I mean. Because I'm horny as hell this morning."
Barbara was bewildered. Was the woman actually suggesting that they have sex together?
"I ... why ... "
"You never did it with a female?" Marian's blue eyes sparkled. "Oooh, that's wonderful! Let's lock the door for twenty minutes!"
Barbara jumped up from her chair. "Now see here!"
"Okay. You won't have to do anything with me. Just let me love you. It won't hurt, doll, I promise. It'll just feel awfully good!"
Her cheeks florid, Barbara cried, "G-get out of here!"
"Afraid, hm?" the blonde retorted wisely. "Not sure you can handle it? That means you must have strong doubts about yourself."
"I do not!"
"Women who are securely heterosexual can play with another gal and not lose their heads. They bounce right back to a man and are hotter than ever. That's me! Gay play is just a diversion-a different way to get my rocks off."
"That's filthy!"
Marian looked the tall brunette over. "Oh it is, huh? Well, that's where you're wrong. Sex with another woman is delicate and fine. There's no sticking and spurting. The juice we make gets all licked up."
Barbara became more amazed by the moment. The other woman's nerve was fantastic! She was as bad as Joe.
"Is everyone in this building a sex maniac?" Barbara asked.
"Let me lock the door," Marian said persuasively. "Let me show you a few things. Then, if you really don't like it, you can tell me so and I'll never bother you again. Isn't that fair?"
"It's perverted!" Barbara blazed.
"Yes?" The other's eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me you never had a man go down on you, like Joe for instance, and enjoyed it! What women do is no more perverted than that. Both sexes have tongues."
Barbara could scarcely believe the conversation. The other woman simply wouldn't take no. She just came on stronger and stronger. Perhaps the only way to get rid of her, Barbara conjectured, was to let her have her way, then tell her off. That ought to spoil her fun, all right!
"Go ahead and lock the door," Barbara said, an odd excitement beginning to build inside her. "I'm curious now to see just how good you are!"
Marian romped to the door, her sexy ass swinging, and she set the lock. Then she turned to confront Barbara like a lioness closing in for a kill. "Get over to that couch and sit down. Take off your panties."
"Just like that? You want only my panties off?" Barbara blushed stronger.
"Honey, I don't care about breasts," Marian said. "Men are the titty freaks, you know. That's why I dress this way." She indicated her lowcut blouse. "Boobs for the boobs!"
Embarrassed, but more than a little stimulated by the strange adventure that lay in store, Barbara walked to the couch and sat down. She averted her eyes from Marian's as she reached up underneath her skirt and pulled down her panties, wadding them and placing them beside her on the couch.
"Oooh, your legs look luscious in those garters, babe!" Marian cooed, hurrying to her. "I want to tongue-wash your thighs!"
Barbara's excitement mounted. It was really weird that she should feel turned-on at all, she thought. She had never been aware of a sexual interest in women.
Marian knelt in front of her and wasted no time in pushing her skirt lap-high. Barbara gazed down in amazement at the blonde head that sank between her thighs. Marian turned one way, then the other, licking Barbara's sensitive skin from her stocking tops to the creases where her thighs ended.
The other woman's gliding tongue seemed to spread hot lava over her. Her flesh tingled. Her nerves thrummed.
Marian lifted Barbara's right leg and licked along the underside of her thigh. She swung the leg over her head and licked its outer roundness, between Barbara's garter straps.
The innocent member of the duo squirmed. Her bottom was getting hot.
Marian held and manipulated her left leg in the same manner, licking it quite thoroughly above her stocking. Then the aggressive blonde hunkered deeper into the other's sweet-scented crotch and began to kiss her pussy.
Barbara flopped her head back and shut her eyes. The tongue which scurried up and down her vulvae lips and in between them, finding the honey which was starting to flow, felt very much like Joe's. She could imagine it was his ... or that of any man. She responded warmly.
Marian's tongue-tip sought out the tender bud of her clitty and licked it with a fluttery stroke. Barbara became more and more aroused.
Marian dipped her tongue into the slippery mouth of Barbara's pussy and stroked cocklike, stimulating the cuntal rim.
"Oooh ... oooh ... oooh ... !" Barbara panted, bouncing up and down on the couch.
The blonde licked round and round in her soft, warm honeypot, taking up all the sticky juice, then concentrated on her clit. This time she clamped the sensitive nub between her softly sucking lips and flogged its tip lightly with her wet tongue as she sucked.
Barbara went wild.
From that point on, what happened was a sensuous blur in her mind when she tried to recall it later. She was aware that Marian eased her over, so that she lay with her back on the sofa. There was much kissing and feeling, stroking with the fingertips. Then somehow Marian was sprawled atop her, the wrong way around, and it was suddenly apparent that the other girl was without pants. Her perfumed muff was pressed to Barbara's face and, quite contrary to what Marian had promised, the novice was forced to kiss her blonde-haired twat!
The damp, warm, wiggly lips of Marian's pussy threatened to make Barbara ill. But that was only an initial response, wholly mental and quickly gone. Barbara's sensuality was at fever pitch, with the other woman rooting deeply in her crotch, licking and sucking, and she seemed to have to respond with tongue and lips.
Barbara's tongue, at first hesitantly, then with a passionate surge, parted the folds of Marian's pussy and licked between them. It stroked Marian's clit, making her grind her box more firmly against Barbara's mouth. Barbara sucked her clit. Tangy tasting cunt-juice drooled along her tongue and down her gulping throat.
She stared at Marian's soft, smooth ass, which wiggled just above her, and the lower portions of Marian's buttocks threatened to entrap her nose. Barbara shut her eyes and gave herself utterly to licking and sucking while she got lusciously licked and sucked in return.
The girls were so enraptured by the fascination of their unconventional loving that they didn't hear the door rattle or Joe's key turn in the lock. But they heard his cry of amazement when he looked at them:
"I'll be a mother-loving son of a bitch!"
He shut the door quickly. The girls sprang apart and gazed guiltily at the pudgy accountant who began to rip off his clothes. A lustful grin spread across his face.
Marian gripped Barbara by an arm to hold her on the couch, as if saying, We've got to give him what he wants!
The bosomy blonde then proceeded to squirm out of her dress and liberate her voluptuously rounded, quivering breasts from her bra.
Balling a man in the presence of another woman-and maybe being balled by both of them in return-was going to be a new experience for Barbara. She was nervous and embarrassed about it. But what could she do-run from the office in just her stockings and garter belt? Marian had already eased her out of her dress and was taking away her flimsy bra.
Barbara's tits jiggled, contrasting in their shapely pointedness to the melon-like boobs of Marian. Joe obviously appreciated both sets, and the contrasting furpieces of the blonde and brunette, because his prick pointed urgently forward by the time he stepped out of his shorts.
"Ooh, look what your boss has for us, baby!" Marian said to Barbara, appearing to be as thrilled over the prospect of receiving his cock as she had been over playing the Lesbian game.
She demonstrated this further by reaching for his erect penis as he approached the couch. She and Barbara remained seated side by side while Joe happily positioned himself in front of them.
Barbara blushed as she watched the aggressive blonde lean toward Joe's aroused member, rolling the rubbery foreskin up and down on his stalk as the thing bristled close to her face. His manly scent wafted up her nostrils and teased Barbara, as well.
Marian's pink, glistening tongue came out and touched the denuded head of his cock. Barbara looked on in fascination as the other woman licked Joe's smooth, bulging glans all over. Then he shoved closer, pushing his lollipop between her soft rosy lips.
Her shadowed eyelids fell closed as she sucked him, her cheeks rhythmically hollowing, her throat muscles working. Barbara squirmed on the couch, wanting Joe's cock in her mouth, giving Marian that pleasure.
Joe leaned forward slightly as he reached down to grasp the blonde's boobs. He bounced the soft, rounded playthings In his hand.
Eyeing Barbara's tits, while he played with the larger, spongier ones which Marian owned, he evidently got an urge to make a trade. He let go of the cocksucking blonde's bouncy boobs and picked the brunette's fruity delights. Since this involved a bit of stretching, while his cock remained sunk, in Marian's eagerly bobbing mouth, the advantages of concentrating all his attentions upon the same female became obvious.
He pulled his pecker out from between Marian's wet, sucking lips and let the stiff thing bob in mid-air as he aligned himself in front of Barbara. Her eyes lit up, and her hand quickly encircled the hardness of his staff. She opened her invitingly small, rosy mouth as she lunged at him, and she took the bulb of his happily throbbing penis inside. She sucked and licked him while her eyes rolled and her senses frollicked wantonly.
"Shit!" exclaimed Marian. "That isn't fair! Let's both lick his dick at the same time. It isn't right for you to hog it, Barbara!"
After bobbing her encircling, tight, slippery lips perhaps twenty times up and down on Joe's bristling barberpole, she let it pop free and gasped excitedly.
"Oooh, I love the taste of prick!" she blurted. She just couldn't keep such happy news to herself.
"Don't we all!" Marian chirped. "I mean ... all we girls!"
She snuggled up to Joe's standing cock, letting it stick up next to her nose. Encircling it loosely with both hands, she licked it as she flutteringly caressed it up and down. Barbara approached from the opposite side and began licking.
Joe looked down, and his expression was that of a bum who suddenly found himself relaxing in the best suite of the Waldorf. Two beautiful women licking his dick at once! That was heaven to a horny male.
Neither girl wished to be outdone by the gliding, caressy technique of the other, and they both licked up and down Joe's stalwart cock as if it was the most delicious stick of candy they had ever tasted. Their saliva drooled down and through the wispy hairs on his balls.
Both women were especially hot at that moment, since their diversion with each other had been aborted before they had reached a climax. Their pussies were exuding warm juices which plastered their curlies against the velvet flesh of their labia.
Watching the girls in Lesbian embrace had evidently left something to be desired on Joe's part, also, for he gasped, while both broads nipped his cockhead with their lips: "Barbara, go down on Marian again ... I love to watch that ... Marian you spread out ... "
The brunette wasn't keen about giving up her cock-lunch in exchange for pussy, even though pussy had its points, she had found. She felt that the greatest pleasure in the long run would come from pleasing Joe, however, and she complied. Marian obviously was delighted, quickly flopping onto her back on the sofa and opening her candy-thighs wide.
The other woman's brunette head buried itself between those tapering, satin-smooth columns. Barbara hungrily licked Marian's soft, tangy-flavored cuntal furrow, causing the blond to quiver and coo.
Barbara's ass was upthrust and unconsciously pointed toward Joe. He gazed at the delights of anus and pussy, between flaring buttocks and wide thighs, all framed erotically by white garter straps and tightly cinched stocking tops.
His sly, lascivious grin turned to a look of fierce determination as he moved up to Barbara's butt. His spit-slippery cock dipped between her spread buttocks and touched her most enticing and forbidden aperture at dead center.
She jumped when she felt the gently goosing contact, and this added to the thrill she was getting from Marian's warm, juicy twat. She didn't stop tonguing the other woman, and she didn't try to lower her ass, because it felt kind of good to get her bunghole lightly tickled.
Joe's touch did not remain light, however. Suddenly he seemed transformed into an ass-maddened pervert as he began brutally to grind and press his rigid protrusion against Barbara's nether aperture.
She gasped and tried to lift her head from between Marian's thighs. But Joe held his hand against her brunette hairdo, keeping her down. Her ass remained uplifted, thanks to the pressure of his shins against the backs of her thighs.
He pushed harder and harder, giving her a burning pain as her violated asshole was forced to spread. Her sensitive rubber ring was stretched wide to accommodate the hugeness of his cockhead. Finally his glans popped wholly into her narrow chute, and the dilation of her asshole was eased.
However, the previous horizontal pressure was replaced by vertical thrust as the lustful man burrowed deeper and deeper into her virgin ass. She blubbered against Marian's pussy. Her rear was seared by heat, as if a burning log were being driven into her the wrong way.
Joe withdrew his phallus a bit and jiggled it, then pressed deeper yet. Gradually her shocked rectum was forced to accept at least five inches of his thick hardness. He fucked in and out lustfully, thrilling to the tightness of her rippling asshole.
Barbara's head was in a spin. Her bottom burned. Tears filled her eyes. But her own ardor hadn't been dampened by this shocking turn of events; if anything, she was hotter than ever, now that she had a cock shoved up her butt. She resumed eating Marian, more voraciously than before, while Joe twisted and pumped his pole in her rear.
Up and down, in and out of her grabby, hot asshole he stroked while watching and listening to her slurp up Marian's honey. The blonde whooped and bumped her hips, smearing her cuntal nectar all over Barbara's cheeks and chin and nose. The brunette weaved and bobbed her ass, into which Joe was joyously plunging.
"Christ, what an asshole!" he cried. "Baby, you were born to be fucked this way!"
Barbara began to think he was right for, even though the buggering hurt her, it gave her exquisite pleasure, as well. She pushed backward against the man's horny thrusts, absorbing even more of his throbbing, rock-hard penis up her rump. Her asscheeks shook like jelly at either side of his rod. First one set of her garters tautened, then the other, as her garter belt shifted with her gyrations.
Joe gripped her asscheeks and spread them with his hands. He watched his thick, asshole-stretching stalk glide in and out of her tight nether portal. Each withdrawal turned her rosy, ringing flesh into view; each thrust folded the delicate membrane inside once more as he sank deeply into the heat of her bottom.
Finally his eyes rolled back, and he could no longer watch the erotic sight. He let Barbara's buttocks slap against his plunging prick, and he fucked her hot ass fiercely. When he came, spurting wetly, deep inside her rectum, she shivered in the throes of a blissful orgasm quite unlike any she had known before. Marian climaxed, also, as Barbara bit her throbbing cuntflesh.
That day's experience had opened two new realms of sensuous pleasure for the woman who, until recently, had been a frustrated, mousy housewife. Her horizons had been broadened, and her values were undergoing a drastic change.
Where the process would stop, she had no idea.
Chapter Eight
It was a quiet day in the office.
Barbara was pecking on her Olivetti, while Joe watched her from across the room, noting how her titties quivered with the motions of her arms. She wore a white, shiny blouse which stretched across the tips of the oblong mounds, showing the erection of her nipples.
"There's gotta be a better use for you than that," he said.
"Hmmmm?" she asked absently as she socked the j key and her boobies jumped.
"Come here."
Barbara turned and looked at her boss. "But I'm not through with this letter."
"Fuck the letter! Anyway, Marian can do it."
Barbara smiled as she got up. "And that will give you an excuse to fuck Marian, won't it?"
He grinned. "You're getting mighty sassy."
"That's because I'm sexually liberated ... and you, Mr. McWilliams, deserve a lot of the credit."
"Sit down here," he said, indicating his knee.
"What if someone comes in?"
"They won't. It's late. Anyway, haven't you worked here long enough to learn that my clients don't come to see me; I have to rustle my ass to see them."
Barbara lit on his lap, which wasn't large because of his pudgy, short-legged build.
"And speaking of that," he went on as he brushed her skirt high on her thighs, "I'm going to send you to see one of my clients this afternoon;"
"What for?" Barbara asked. "Do you need some more figures from him?"
Joe stroked her thigh, back and forth across the tops of her clingy stockings, as he ogled the thrust of her tits. "No, babe. He needs your figure. At least, I hope he does. He's got a lot more business that he could throw my way, and maybe you can inspire him to do that."
Wiggly little thrills coursed through Barbara as Joe petted her bare upper thighs, his fingertips trailing along the smooth flesh against which her garter straps pressed. "You mean, you want me to use my body to get business for you?" she asked with a little shiver.
"Right!"
"In other words," Barbara said, "instead of you rustling your ass over to see this guy, you want me to rustle my ass in a different way."
Joe chortled, and his fat hand tugged at a titty. "That's it! Hey, you're really getting wise!"
She slapped his hand away from her ... but not too hard ... and slid off his lap. "Then I guess I'd better get to it, hadn't I?"
"The better, the sooner!" Joe said, beaming.
Barbara felt that way herself. She wanted to find out what it was like to peddle her body when she knew in advance exactly what she was doing. Would it take the kick out of sex? Would she feel so terribly cheap that she wouldn't be able to live with herself afterwards? There was only one way to learn the answers.
"Who do you want me to see?" she asked, a certain tenseness already coming over her and roughening the edges of her voice.
Calvin Church was tall, dignified, and gray-haired. In his middle to late fifties, he headed up a stock brokerage firm which kept dozens of large accounts that required periodic audit. Joe McWilliams had a piece of that rich accounting pie, but was hungry for more.
A different kind of hunger glinted in Calvin's suavely roguish eyes when Barbara entered his office.
"Well, well!" he said, showing her to a chair. "If I'd known that McWilliams had someone as lovely as you working for him, I would have given him more of my business a long time ago."
"You're very kind, Mr. Church," Barbara replied, crossing her legs while he stood next to her low-slung upholstered chair. "Does that mean I can tell Mr. McWilliams he can expect to take over some of your other accounts?"
"I don't see why not." He took a chair opposite Barbara in the sitting-room portion of his office, away from his large, imposing desk.
Barbara smiled. "You don't know how happy you've made me. This might get me a raise."
"You could give me a raise, my dear," Calvin said boldly, and reached to take one of her hands.
An excited tingle went through her. "Mr. Church!" she said, feigning shock.
"Call me Cal. And your first name is ... ?"
"Barbara."
"Well, I don't believe in wasting time with a lot of bullshit, Barbara. Do you agree?"
"I hate bullshit, too," she said, finding that vulgarisms came more easily to her tongue, now that she was liberated from her middle-class restraints. An occasional dirty word seemed to do wonders for a conversation, and for her state of mind.
"Great!" Calvin exclaimed, and patted her knee. "I want you! Right now! If you could see your way clear to spend an hour with me ... and let me do whatever I want... I will give your boss as much business as he can handle."
Barbara's brain spun. The "sale" had been so easy!
"All right," she heard herself say, as her excitement heightened.
"My God!" Calvin raved. "You are so sweet and tantalizing! Stand up!"
Barbara stood, blushing a bit, but feeling proud also that the rich, sophisticated man was so attracted to her.
"Take your dress off!" he commanded as he remained in his chair.
This was not a romantic seduction, she decided. But none of her recent seductions had been. And the lack of romance hadn't diminished the excitement.
She reached behind her, opened the fasteners on her frock, and quickly whisked the dress up and over her head. That left her standing in a bra, stockings and pants. Her pants were blue, with a delicate white-lace trim, and they were made of the finest, sheer nylon, permitting her pussycurls to show through.
"Wonderful!" Calvin cried gleefully as his eyes toured her tall, shapely form. "Now the bra ... if you don't mind."
Blushing a bit stronger, Barbara removed her brassiere.
"What delightful titties!" Calvin exclaimed, proving again that he knew how to use a vulgarism to advantage. "My dear, you're one of those rare women who is perfectly proportioned. Your tits are high and firm, and they stick out so lusciously, yet your bottom-according to what I saw of it with your dress on- isn't skimpy in the least. Most women seem to have it at one place and not the other, but you have it all!"
"Why, thank you!" Barbara said, feeling warm and anxious for him to go on.
"Just turn around, would you?"
She turned, conscious that the shifting of her buttocks stretched the flimsy material of her blue panties. A crescent of one plump white mound appeared beneath a slightly hiked panty-elastic.
"Yes ... yes!" Calvin said excitedly, and stood. "Now please stretch out on your tummy on that sofa over there."
She gave him a worried look, over her shoulders. "You're not going to ... hurt me, are you?" She was thinking of the perverse way Joe had screwed her, the other day.
"Maybe just a little bit," Calvin replied. "But I will soothe you with kisses, afterward. You will like that, I guarantee."
Barbara walked to the sofa, her buttocks twisting with suppleness, and she stretched out. Her luscious rear mounds quivered to a stop.
Calvin knelt next to the low sofa, directly beside her bottom. Her excited anticipation grew to fever pitch.
The man began gently enough, merely placing his hand across her thinly clad ass-cheeks and shimmying them through her blue briefs. Barbara giggled. Calvin laughed, also. He began to pitty-pat first one of her richly curved buttocks and then the other.
"You have a marvelous ass!" he said. "So nicely curved and bouncy!"
His pitty-pats became spanks, stinging her tender assflesh.
"Ooooh ... ooooh ... myyyyy-y!" she said. "I haven't been spanked since I was a little girl!"
"Do you like it?" Calvin asked eagerly. "Please tell me that you do!" He kept spanking her.
"Yesssssss! I love it!" Barbara exclaimed, even though it burned.
Her buttocks jiggled tautly in the thin panties which stretched across and around them. With each swat of Calvin's hand, the sensuous mounds compressed, then wobbled wildly as he lifted his hand for another slap.
"Aaaaarrrrgh!" he husked lustfully. "Do you want me ... to pull your panties off ... and give it to you on the bare behind? Tell me!"
"Ooooh, yessssss! Pull my pants down!" Barbara cried. "Spank my bare bottom!"
A mature woman ... a wife ... begging to be spanked like a naughty child? Barbara could scarcely believe she was behaving that way, and meaning it!
Calvin pulled her panties down off her writhing, reddening rump and left them twisted in a nylon rope just below her stocking-tops. He raised his hand and brought it down sharply against both of her blushing buttocks, making the saucy mounds dance erotically.
Barbara moaned, as much from pleasure as from hurt. Calvin swatted first her bare left buttock, then her right one. The springy half-moons bounced against each other, and the rubbing, quivering action heightened her arousal.
"That's enough punishment!" the man finally husked. "Now for the kissing that I promised!"
Barbara caught her breath.
Calvin bowed and ran his damp tongue over one curving hillock, which soothed its burning. He licked her other asscheek in the same manner. She felt him pulling her panties all the way off.
His tongue skidded into the deep, warm cleft between her satiny rear mounds, and he licked along it.
"Oooh, myyyyyyyyy ... that's so nasty!" she exclaimed. "Do it some more!"
Calvin boosted her hips into the air, and he knelt on the sofa behind them. Barbara's tits were pressed against the vinyl cushion as her back curved concavely.
Calvin pinched her soft buttocks apart, and he eyed the delightful dimple between them. He bent very close to it, stuck out his tongue, and licked the hot spot lovingly.
Barbara thrilled. She shook. Her buttocks wobbled against the man's cheeks.
He continued to lick her tingling anus, circling his tongue-tip on her coverging tiny puckers. Then suddenly he plunged his wet tongue right into her hot, grabby asshole, and she bawled with indecent delight.
As the dirty man pumped his tongue in and out of her ass, she went crazy. Her buttocks bobbed. Calvin's half-emerged whiskers, which hadn't been noticeable when she had looked at him, felt like sandpaper against the tender inner slopes of her asscheeks.
His hands were stroking up and down her bare thighs, along her garter straps and across the tops of her nylons. As he continued to lick her hot asshole and drool saliva into it, she suddenly felt the thrust of his long middle finger, right up her cunt!
aawwwwww!" she bleated passionately, and he circled his finger in her very wet, snug vagina. "Fuck me ... fuck meeee!" she heard herself begging.
His tongue left her asshole, and the rubbery little ring popped shut. But it still tingled. Calvin's finger pulled out of her narrow cunny, as well.
She guessed he was adjusting his clothes, getting ready to spear her, and she didn't care which target he aimed at. She would enjoy getting fucked in the pussy or up the ass- either way! But she had to have it now!
Calvin chose her pussy.
When his long rod came gliding into her, dilating her cuntal passage and filling it with bonelike hardness, she marveled at his virility. She'd had the notion that men his age weren't very potent. How wrong she had been! Calvin was all-stud as he circled and pumped his long, thick cock in her throbbing cunt.
"Ooooh, yessssss!" she hissed, grinding her hips voluptuously. "That's so goooood!"
"Does your little pussy like it?" Calvin asked as he fucked her.
"My little pussy loves it!" Barbara cried. "Keep stroking your big prick in and out!"
Her hips bobbed hunchingly, and her greased sheath rippled around his thrusting rod. His balls swung against the tip of her clit. Wanton excitement grew within her, like an expanding balloon.
As the older man's firm belly slapped her quivery asscheeks and his cock plumbed deeply into her happy hole, she wanted the balloon to burst. It kept growing and growing, and she held her breath.
Suddenly Calvin pulled out.
"OOOOOOOOOOOOH!" she moaned. "What did you do THAAAT for! I neeeeeeeed itttt! I want ittt! FUCK MEEEEE, DAMN YOU!"
"Later!" Calvin rasped. "Roll over and take it in your mouth!"
"YESSSSSSSSSSSS!"
Barbara couldn't turn onto her back quickly enough. She wanted a taste of his dick, even with her own juice on it- especially with her juice on it!
He straddled her middle, first grasping her tits and stroking the pliant mounds along his bone. Then he held her around the back of the head, lifting her up, and pushed his hot prick between her eagerly opening lips.
She sucked his wet, cunt-flavored cock with hungry, slurps, her lips voraciously stripping at his shaft as her tongue swirled around his tasty glans. Her eyes rolled. She groaned against her mouthful of man-meat.
Calvin stroked his prick vigorously between her lips, watching that pink circle glide with silken smoothness up and down his pole. He pulled out and used one hand to swab its bulbous head across her cute nose. Her nostrils dilated. She felt faint with lust.
The man pushed his prick back into her mouth again and resumed fucking her pretty face. She would have finished him just like that, if he had let her, because his cock tasted so good!
Her pussy was as hungry as her mouth, however, and she didn't mind when he withdrew from her sucking kiss and scrambled backward to settle on his knees between her stoking-clad thighs. He grasped her legs behind the knees and pushed them as far back as they would go while keeping them wide apart. Her garters and stocking tops grew very taut. Her ass was spread so widely that the man could easily have plunged into either of her apertures. Again he chose her pussy, and he fucked into it so fiercely that she squealed.
His long, steel-like piston pumped briskly in her oiled chamber, and she squirmed and bobbed. Her titties shook. She kicked her legs which he still held in the air as he leaned against them.
He ravaged her hot cunt like it had never been ravaged before, spearing deeply and swiftly into it, making her whole body bounce on the springy sofa.
"OOOOH, SHIT!" she cried. "WHAT A RED-HOT FUCKING! GIVE IT TO ME, YOU STUD! DRIVE YOUR HARD PRICK AS DEEP INSIDE ME AS IT'LL GO! TOUCH MY TONSILS WITH IT! OOOOOOOOOH!"
Her hungry hips lunged at his bobbing pole, her warm wetness swirling snugly around it as he drove mercilessly into her eager flesh.
Her passion rose and rose. She all but strangled. Suddenly, as if by a pin-prick, her balloon of excitement burst, flooding her with warmth.
Calvin kept fucking.
"AAAAWWWWW!" she moaned, tossing from side to side on the sofa.
Her hips caught the man's fucking rhythm again, and she worked heatedly with him, in utter concentration, until she got her second orgasm and he had his one and only. He heaved and spurted inside her, topping off her dual climax like a spritz of whipped cream topped off a delicious dessert.
"Oooooh, you fucking dirty old man!" she cried, as she rolled beneath him, clutching him with her arms and legs.
He didn't take the epithet as an insult, nor had she meant it as one.
Chapter Nine
Thinking things over, after the episode with Calvin Church, Barbara concluded that her enjoyment of the frolic hadn't been lessened by the fact that she was doing it for material gain.
The only thing that bothered her was that the gain hadn't been hers. She hadn't even shared in it. Her boss had benefited alone.
Gary and Art had offered her a better deal than that, she recalled-fifty percent of whatever she made. She would be dealing in cold cash, but so what? She was honest enough with herself by that time to realize that it made no difference whether the payoff was in money or favors; and why shouldn't she get paid for something she enjoyed doing anyway?
In a way, she hated to walk out on Joe so soon after he had hired her. But she didn't care for office work all that well. Why work at all?
She smiled as she thought about the prospects.
There was a possible hitch, however: Was the offer from Gary and Art still open, after she had run out on them?
She opened her purse and fingered the piece of paper that bore Gary's phone number. For some reason, she had kept it, even when running from the threat he had made. She understood the reason now: She had wanted to accept Gary's offer, right from the first, but she hadn't dared admit the truth to herself.
With a trembling hand, she dialed the telephone ...
Gary didn't say anything as he held the door for her to enter his apartment. It was a nice place, but disarrayed, and Gary was prowling about in pajama bottoms, though it was after nine o'clock in the morning. (Barbara had phoned her boss and said she would be late for work; she didn't want to give up one thing until she was sure of another.)
Gary swung the door shut and stood with his back to it, his feet planted apart and his arms crossed over his muscular, beach-bronzed chest. He gazed sternly at Barbara. His pajama pants hung low on his hips, revealing his navel and straight belly; the fly gaped, permitting her to glimpse his clump of pubic hair.
When he still didn't speak, she became very ill at ease. His scant, careless attire didn't help.
"I ... I'm sorry I ran out," she began falteringly.
"Are you?" Gary remained stern.
"I wasn't sure then that I could, uh, handle what you wanted me to do."
A slight, sardonic smile quirked his lips. "And now you're sure?"
"Oh, yes!" Barbara said. "I know I can do it!"
"Hmmm. Show me."
Her lashes fluttered. "What?"
"Get down and show me how sorry you are ... and what a good cocksucker you are. Then maybe I'll give you a chance."
"Oooh yessss, Gary!" she said, and dropped to her knees.
Her heart hammered as she snaked a hand into the open front of the attractive man's pajamas, and she brought out his long, meaty whang. Her eyes glazed a bit and her mouth watered as she worked his loose, faintly moist foreskin up and down on his curving, thick penis. She felt his member tense more in her hand, and it pushed forward as she bowed her head toward it. Her rosy tongue came out, glistening with saliva, and by the time she was ready to touch it to his cock, the head had swollen and assumed tomato-redness; his shaft was stiffly upthrust.
She held his dick lightly, just to steady it, as she licked all over his cockhead. He obviously hadn't showered yet that morning, for his prick bore a raunchy taste and scent which was all-man.
Barbara's eyes fell shut and her brain spun as she let Gary's huge cockhead squeeze into her small mouth, and she sucked it. Juice drizzled from the slit at the tip of his prick, and she swallowed that down. The taste was superb!
Barbara began bobbing her head urgently as she sucked voraciously on Gary's cock. She wanted to bring him off like that. But he obviously had other ideas. He slapped her across the side of the head and sent her tumbling onto her side on the rug.
She moaned and gazed up at him, hot-eyed, as his prick projected quiveringly from the fly of his pajamas.
"Fuck me!" she begged. "Fuck me real good! Oooh God, Gary, I neeeed it!"
"Shut up!" he snarled. "Take your clothes off!"
"Yesss ... yessss ... !" she hissed, and struggled out of her dress while remaining on the floor. She hadn't put on a bra that morning, and her bare titties trembled. Pink pants swathed her hips and loins, and they'd gotten folded over at her crotch, permitting her pussycurls to escape. Her full thighs gleamed in alabaster splendor above the gartered tops of her stockings.
"Take off your pants, too!" Gary ordered, his cock remaining high and hard.
"Oooh, I'd never wear pants around you, baby!" she exclaimed, and stripped the silkies off. She spread her thighs wide and waited, flat on her back.
Gary looked at her slice of pink, juicy cunt, edged by auburn curls. "You love getting fucked, don't you?" he asked.
"Yessss! Stick your cock innnnn me!" she pleaded.
"You don't care who fucks you, either, I bet."
"That's right! I don't care! But I like you the best."
"That's only because I'm the one who's here, and my cock's up," he said. "Well, that's how I want you to feel. Think of every man as a prick, nothing more. Just a prick for you to suck and screw!"
"Yesss ... yessss!" she panted. "That's all I want!"
"Hmm. Let's see how you are with a total stranger." Gary stepped to the intercom beside his front door, his erection waggling as he walked. "Sam, come up here for a minute!" he said into the speaker.
"S-Sam?" Barbara asked. "Is he ... the black doorman?"
"Right on!" Gary said, his sardonic smile returning. "Have you ever fucked a nigger?"
"Ooooh, nohhhhh!" Barbara quivered.
"Ever wanted to?"
"Well, I ... " She shivered more.
"Sure you have, baby! You've thought of sucking a big black cock, then having it shoved up inside you. Well, you're going to get your wish." Gary hesitated, watching her closely. "Do you want to back out?"
She shut her eyes. "Nohhhhh!" she breathed raspily.
Her thighs remained widely parted, her knees propped up, and Gary thought he detected a fresh gush of moisture drooling along her pink pussyfolds. Her outer labia were so tense with excitement that they stood well open, and her hooded clit was up.
It seemed like an eternity to Barbara, as she lay throbbing on the floor, before a quick tapping sounded and Gary opened the door of his apartment. Sam entered, resplendent in a red and gold uniform, and he took off his cap, revealing a fuzzy, close-cropped head. He was very black, with a solid build, and looked to be thirty-five or forty years old.
His dark eyes widened as he took in Barbara's exposed condition, on the carpet, then glanced at Gary's erect state.
The latter grinned. "I've got a present for you, Sammy. Feel in the mood for some white meat?"
Sam chuckled. "Why you know, Mr. Phillips, I'm always on the lookout for good stuff. I don't care if it's white or black or yellow, long as it's nice and pink in the center!"
"Have you ever seen a pussy any pinker than that ... or juicier?" Gary asked, indicating Barbara.
She shuddered with a new wave of shame. But she remained on the floor with her legs drawn back and wide apart.
"It sure does look inviting!" Sam said, shifting anxiously from one foot to the other.
"Then enjoy!" Gary said. "The only thing is, I want to watch it."
"Man, that won't bother me at all!" Sam said, and unbuttoned his jacket. He threw the garment off. His tie and shirt quickly followed.
Barbara moaned and shut her eyes again. This was all so humiliating. But there was no real sting to the humiliation; her only sharp emotion was the lash of desire.
Sam stepped out of his pants and whisked his shorts down. His cock was as large as Gary's and half-hard, curving forward from his black-fuzzed, chocolate balls. The knotlike, bare head of his penis was dark purple, his shaft a rich brown.
"Straddle her neck and give her a taste of it first," Gary suggested.
Barbara's eyes popped open, and she raised her head.
"Is this all right with you, ma'am?" Sam asked, hesitating.
She stared at his impressive dark prick. "Just dooooo it!" she breathed.
Sam could scarcely mount her fast enough, his big cock whipping as it inched higher, his balls hanging heavy and low. A gust of his maleness wafted up Barbara's nostrils, and she thought that he smelled a bit differently from the white men she had known-or was it only her imagination? She was so stimulated that she didn't care.
Keeping her head arched up from the carpet, she snatched Sam's balls with one hand and his warm, thick prick with the other. Letting out a moan of abject lust, she glided her o-shaped rosy lips over the dark, shiny head of his cock, and his meat stoppered the sound. She began to suck him, and her senses swirled giddily. Her heart hammered with excitement.
Standing by and watching, Gary seemed pleased by the eager way in which she had taken to the stranger. Such passion could scarcely have been feigned. The lusty scene was so infectious, in fact, that Gary clutched his cock in his fist and began to pump it as he watched the beautiful Barbara give head.
Sam gazed down in lustful pleasure, feeling the warm clasp of her gliding lips and the liquid swirling of her tongue as he watched his stiff brown cock stroke in and out of her rosy mouth. His heavy balls swayed against her chin. Tenderly he reached down and cradled her head, which not only made the cocksucking more comfortable for her, but permitted him to stroke more smoothly, straight in and out of her mouth.
Barbara felt utterly possessed by him. His big, tasty prick filled her mouth with every thrust, rubbing against her velvet tongue which curled and glided along his hardness. She gulped frequently, swallowing his cock-juice mixed with her saliva.
Gary stroked his long, turgid prick slowly and feelingly as he watched. Sometimes he preferred to jack off, or to be jacked off, rather than to sink his cock into a woman's mouth or cunt.
Barbara writhed, her untouched pussy sizzling. Its honey drooled down her soft crotch and into the cleft between her buttocks. The moisture tickled her anus, increasing her arousal.
She mouthed Sam's black cock with wanton hunger, occasionally letting it escape and stick up next to her nose while she licked his perspiration-scented balls, then clasping it within the heated cave of her wet mouth once more and sucking more eagerly than ever.
Her lips made a lurid slurping sound as they worked on his length of bonelike turgid flesh. She took his prick deeper and deeper, until it thrust into the narrow opening of her throat.
Sam squirmed astride her neck, his nuts flopping over her chin. "Hey, mama ...!" he panted. "Shit! You're gonna ... be drinkin' my cream in a minute ... !"
"No!" Gary exclaimed raspily, and stopped stroking himself. "Get between her legs and fuck her!"
Sam's prick was expelled from her mouth with a noisy Pop! and she gasped, "Oooh, yes-sss! I want it! Please! Fuck me and fuck me! Give me lots of cock!"
"God damn, Mr. Phillips, you sure got yourself a hot one here!" Sam said happily as he scrambled backward between Barbara's stocking-clad legs.
"Don't I know it! She wants to be a whore. Do you think she can make the grade?"
"Man if she fucks as good as she sucks ... " Sam said, then delayed finding out for several moments as he bent to take a taste of her titties.
His thick lips felt strange to Barbara as they wrapped themselves suckingly around her stiff nipples. His fuzzed head looked strange, also. But she was so hotly aroused that she loved both the sight and the feel as his mouth pulled at her tingling tits. Mostly, though, she needed to feel his shaft up her pussy.
She squirmed, pawing at his head, trying to get him to quit playing baby and give her what she most dearly wanted.
"FUCK ME! FUCK MEEEEE!" she cried, not caring if the whole world heard. "SHIT, I'M SO FUCKING HOT! I WANT YOUR MEAN BLACK PRICK! NOWWWWWWW! GOD DAMN IT! OOH, SAM ... SHAFT MEEEEE!"
Gary was stroking himself once again while he watched and listened. Barbara paid no attention to him, and neither did Sam.
When the black man finally raised his head from her boobs and clutched his stiff cock to drive it into her wiggling, super-wet pink slit, she gave a quick circling lunge of her hips. She bodily snatched his hard-on.
"AAAAAAWWWWWW!" she moaned rapturously, as she pushed her hips even higher and farther forward so that her needy cunt enveloped his entire thrusting cock.
She rotated her lower body voluptuously, and her slippery, clutching membranes massaged his throbbing prick as if she were trying to wrench it right off his body. His balls churned. He began to fuck her, and her ass was slammed jarringly against the floor. Her buttocks slap-slap-slapped as he gave his strong cock to her in rapid thrusts.
"OOOOOOOOH!" she wailed happily, her hips bumping and writhing. Her titties danced. "That's so gooood! Give me MORE! DON'T STOP! FUCK ME AND FUCK MEEEEE! OOOOOH, WOWWWWWW!"
The black man lived up to his race's reputation for staying power and sheer bull-like strength as he jazzed his white partner thoroughly. She gasped and flopped her head on the floor. Her eyes rolled back. Her back arched beneath her black lover, and her stocking-clad legs gripped him fiercely. Her nails raked his flesh.
She came, gasping and squealing.
Sam didn't give her a moment to start sliding down from the summit as he kept pounding his dark prick into her pink, hair-fringed hole. Gary stood behind him, watching the erotic action from between Sam's legs. Juice sprayed outward from Barbara's flooded cunt, each time Sam slammed his black cock in, dampening his shaking nuts. A stream of girl-juice dribbled down her crotch and between her wiggly buttocks.
She panted and cried more raspily as she approached her second climax. The orgasm shook her, and her asscheeks quivered like gelatin as they hung above the floor. Gary watched her snatch tighten convulsively around Sam's bobbing black pole.
The white man rushed around to kneel next to her head while the black kept screwing her. She surged from her second orgasm toward an unbelievable third. Her brain had turned to jelly and her whole body was wildly athrob, spasming and lurching.
Gary yanked her head toward him and jammed his cock into her mouth.
"GHAAAAWWGH!" she groaned, and champed mindlessly on his turgid meat.
He came, his thick cream gushing into her mouth, washing over her tongue, and flooding down her throat. She gulped, her eyes watering, and she came for a blinding third time. Her frenzied cuntal contractions brought the juice spurting up from Sam's balls, and his pipe twitched in her bodily clutches, filling the pit of her vagina with his cum.
Barbara had never felt so gloriously and totally fucked before.
Later, after Sam had gone, she made her deal with Gary.
"I've got an answering service that sets up the appointments," he said. "They'll call you. Every day Art or I will be around to pick up the money-half of whatever you make. And don't try to stiff us, because our clients report to us what they pay. Remember, fifty is the minimum, but you ought to be able to get a hundred from some of the Johns. Most of these guys are well heeled. Work on 'em, huh? Baby, you can do it! I've got all the confidence in the world in you!"
Barbara had confidence in herself, and she felt that at last she had found her true calling.
She phoned Joe later and told him she wouldn't be in any more.
"Shit!" he said. "You haven't even had a payday yet!"
"Mail my check to me," she told him. "And I'm sorry to leave you. It was fun!"
"Shit!" he said again, and hung up.
The ungrateful slob! Barbara thought, but she smiled. Nothing could dampen her good spirits now that she had come to terms with herself.
She was a whore, she happily admitted, and from now on she was going to reap the benefits, in cold cash as well as hot lust ...
Chapter Ten
Barbara looked the John over as she entered his motel room.
In his mid-thirties, well-built and with blond hair, he didn't seem the sort who would have to pay for sexual favors. But as long as he was willing, who was she to complain? In fact, he appealed strongly to her, and she would have screwed him for nothing if the situation were different.
He was doing some concentrated looking, also, and he seemed to like what he saw. His blue eyes twinkled.
"They say you're a housewife. Is that right?" he asked.
"What's the difference?" she wanted to know.
"It adds a little extra spice."
"If it gives you a kick to be with a woman who's married to another man, why don't you join a swappers' club?" Barbara blurted. "I assume you're married."
"Yeah. But my wife won't swap, so this is the next best thing. Anyway, I like to pay for my pleasure, because I have a few kinky quirks," he added, walking around Barbara and studying her from top to tail. His verdict? "You're a fox!"
"Thanks. What kind of quirks?"
The man grinned. "You'll find out."
"Well, let's settle the sordid business first," she said, as Gary had told her to do. "It's fifty dollars for the straight stuff."
"Including some head?"
Barbara shivered a bit, though it wasn't cold in the room. She was getting excited. "Yes."
The man peeled off two twenties and a ten, handing them to her. "My name's Tom."
"Thank you, Tom," she said, taking the money and putting it in her purse. "I'm Barbara."
How quickly she was settling into the professional routine!
"Just, uuh, slip out of that dress, if you will," Tom said.
"And you?"
"Don't worry. I'm anxious to take my pants off."
He did, and his shirt as well, while Barbara pulled her dress over her head. Her naked tits wobbled quiveringly.
"Mmmmmm!" he said. "Those are tempting! Nice shape! And just big enough."
"Want me to lie on the bed?" she asked as she stood in her stockings, garter belt and mint-green silk panties.
"No!" Tom said. "Just stand there." He took off his shorts.
Barbara's eyes went to his cock. Circumcised and somewhat tense, it arched forward from his testicles, which were surrounded by light-brown, wispy hairs. He wasn't the best-hung male she had met, but certainly good enough.
He seemed to enjoy displaying his nakedness. "Don't worry, it'll get hard," he said.
"Sure it will!" Barbara murmured, and couldn't help licking her lips.
Tom noticed that and asked, "Want to taste it?"
She sank to her knees, her plump bottom stretching the thin material of her panties. Her tits trembled as they swooped forward when she bent to the man's penis. Holding his warm member in her hand, she gave it an experimental lick, swirling her wet tongue around the rosy crest. Then she opened her lips wider and took his tasty cockhead into her mouth.
"Aaaaahhhhh!" he breathed happily, his entire body tensing as she began to suck him.
His prick stiffened straight as a spear between her clasping lips. His glans ballooned, half-filling her mouth. She sucked his cock pleasurably, bobbing her head as her saliva-slick lips skidded claspingly across his coronal ridge.
"Shit, you do that good!" he rasped.
"Ahhhhnnng ... ahhhnng," she said in acknowledgement as she cocksucked him.
She let his prick whip free and nudged it straight up against his belly as her pink tongue came out to lick his balls.
"Oooh, baby, you don't skip anything!" he said.
Barbara licked his warm nuts all over and even swabbed her tongue underneath them while they straddled her nose. Then she grasped his cock and aimed it into her mouth once more. She champed on his plump, rubbery cockhead.
Barbara raised her head, breathing hard. Tom helped her to her feet.
"Just stand there!" he said huskily, and it was his turn to drop to his knees.
Barbara felt a bit embarrassed as he clasped her panty-clad buttocks in his hands and pulled her against him. He nuzzled her silken sheathed tummy while his curved fingers sank into the springy softness of her bottom.
He glided his face down to her thighs and licked between her expanded stocking tops and the narrow lace edges of her briefs. His tongue slithered along her garter straps. He caught one of the narrow bands between his teeth and snapped it.
"Oooooo!" she said protestingly.
Tom wedged his tongue underneath her garter and licked where it had smacked her.
He tilted his face up and drew her down, so that one of her titties fell into his mouth. He wetly sucked on her firm, throbbing nipple.
"Ooooh ... hey ... you're pretty good yourself!" she murmured, and tousled his hair.
His mouth popped her first titty free and clamped onto the other. He shook the wobbly boob while sucking on her nipple. Looking down, she could see that his cock was still standing very high and firm. She wished she could get her mouth back onto it.
Finally he let go of her breasts and slowly turned her until her plump bottom was in front of his face. He spanned the zoftic cheeks with his hands, his fingers extending upward along their silken-clad flanks while his thumbs nestled underneath her buttocks, following the elastics of her pants. He shook her buttocks in the silk panties, enjoying the way the dull-shiny nylon shimmered.
"Ooh God, you're getting me hot!" Barbara said, and she wasn't lying.
Tom didn't reply, because he was used to being conned by professionals who thought he would pay them extra if they pretended a passion they didn't feel.
He slowly pulled Barbara's panties down, winding them around the tops of her thighs. He gazed at her bare bottom, then proceeded to lick it. She got hotter and hotter.
Suddenly she bent forward, remembering Calvin Church, and her ass opened to the lustful kneeling man. He licked up and down her asscrack, across her crinkly, tingling anus.
She writhed, wobbling her asscheeks against his face, and she wondered if she could get him to screw her up the back way.
What's the matter with you, girl? she thought. He ought to pay extra for THAT!
But she would almost have been willing to pay him to do it.
He tongue-washed her lovely ass all over, making it very warm and adding to Barbara's overall heat. Moisture dribbled from the slit of her pussy, oiling the tops of her thighs.
Tom bent further and licked into her cunt, slurping at her luscious flesh-pudding. Her legs turned rubbery, and she could no longer maintain her bent-over pose. Sinking forward, she tumbled onto the carpet and rolled over. She had given up her wish to have Tom take her up the backside. A good, thorough screwing of her pussy would suffice.
She kicked, frustrated by the panties which still wound around her thighs. Staring at Tom's upthrust cock, she pulled her legs back, bent them, and yanked her panties off.
As she balled the mint-green nylon in her hand and was about to give it a toss, Tom cried, "Don't throw your panties away!"
He scrambled forward, between her legs. "Rub your pants in my face while I screw you!" he begged.
She would have done anything at that point to get the screwing she needed. Never mind the fee! She lifted her legs, spreading them wide, and held her panties ready to do what Tom no doubt had never had the nerve to ask of his sweet, respectable wife.
When Barbara felt his prick spear into her, she pressed her panties against his handsome face. He groaned happily and, staying up on straight arms, began to pump his dick in her pussy as he breathed deeply of the sweet girlie-scents which impregnated her damp scanties.
"Oooh! Yessss! Goooood!" Barbara panted while she worked her hips against the man's eager lunges. His hard shaft stroked the tip of her clitty, and his cockhead expanded her sexual channel in rippling waves.
Her hot cunt seemed to grab at his blissful member.
"Oooh Christ, that's good!" he husked. "Hold your pants against my nose!"
He breathed through the intimate garment as he fucked her faster and faster. Barbara's hips went wild. Her heels drubbed the man's hunching flanks.
"Talk dirty!" he begged, his voice muffled by her panties.
She had been about to do that anyway, and the vulgar words tumbled out, punctuated by gasps and little cries:
"Oooh shit ... piss ... fuck the goddam shit right outa me! What a cock! I love it! My cunt's so hot! It loves your ... big, fat dick! Drive it innnnn! Screw meeeee! Ball meeeee! Fuck meeeee! Oooh baby, wowwww ... fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck ... FUCK!!!"
He sent her tumbling over the passion precipice as his rod rammed rapidly up her greased sheath, then twitched as he held it deep. His spurts hosed her sexual conflagration while she lurched and bumped, her cunt working heatedly around his jerking member.
Finally she collapsed motionless on the floor. Her panties fell from her hand.
"Did you make it? Did you really make it?" Tom panted.
"Of course I did!" she told him, breathing hard.
He looked down at her blissful face, rosy with afterglow, and couldn't doubt the truth of her assertion.
"My God!" he said. "A pro who really gets there! I can't believe it!"
The business side of Barbara's nature came to the fore, now that her passion was satisfied. "I like money, too," she said.
"You're entitled to it! Damn! I'm going to double what I paid you! What do you think of that?"
Barbara grasped his head between her hands and brought him down for a deep, wet kiss. Though she didn't realize it, that was something which many professionals wouldn't do.
Tom was true to his word, giving her another fifty before she left.
"I want to see you again!" he said anxiously.
"Anytime," she said. "Just call the service and ask for me-Barbara."
She felt happy as she walked to her car and, surprisingly, not cheap. So she had sold herself for cash! So what? She felt every bit as good as if she had given it away. No. She felt better. Because now her material needs were being taken care of, as well as her physical lust. What a perfect blending, she thought-fun and profit from the same act!
There was only one unpleasant aspect to her situation, and that was that she had to go "home" to a lonely motel room. Her thoughts turned to Harold, who no doubt was lonely, also. But she wouldn't go back to him and resume her old, "respectable" life-not the way it had been in recent months. She would have to get used to loneliness, she decided.
Chapter Eleven
Days passed, and Barbara kept busy. Her excitement over her new career didn't diminish. Neither did her loneliness, however.
She thought of Harold more and more, frequently getting the urge to call him. But what would she say?
She was considering that question as she sat next to the phone, when suddenly its ring startled her. She picked it up, and it was the service.
"Hey, kid ..." the flat-voiced female operator said, "I've got a good one for you. He's a regular, been seeing the same girl all the time, but she quit on us. I didn't have the heart to tell him. He'll like you, though. Just come on strong, and he'll forget all about Sandra."
"Okay, Dot. What's the address?"
Barbara picked up a pen and scribbled the name and location of the motel, which the operator gave her.
"Be there in half an hour," Dot said.
"I will. Oh, what's this guy been used to paying?"
"Fifty dollars. He's not a big spender, but he's steady."
"His name?"
"Mr. Brown. He'll be in Room 18."
Barbara had met a lot of Browns and Smiths and Joneses since she had been with the service.
She hurriedly got dressed and drove to the appointed motel, still thinking about Harold and how she might approach him. It would be difficult, she knew.
I must still love Harold or I wouldn't keep thinking about him, she realized. But I don't want to go back to the way things were.
Well, I've got to put that on the back burner for now. Here's the motel. For the next half-hour or so, I'll belong to another man.
She shivered with a now-familiar sense of anticipation. What would this John be like? Would he have a good cock? Would he know how to use it?
Barbara parked her car, found Room 18, and rapped.
The door opened on a dim interior, and she entered. Before she could turn to face the man who was standing behind the door, his arms grasped her from behind, pulling her against him. She could tell that he was nude.
"Hey, wait a minute!" a familiar voice exclaimed. "You're not Sandra!"
The man turned her to face him, and they both got the greatest shock of their lives.
"My God!" Harold exclaimed. "Barbara!"
"Darling!" she blurted. Then: "Ooh, nooooh ... noooooh ... it can't be!"
She backed up, her knees threatening to give way. Harold shut the door. They stared at each other in the faint light that seeped through drawn shades.
"H-How did you know I was here?" Harold asked, evidently concluding she hadn't come from the sex agency.
She couldn't carry that off, nor did she want to try. She had to be as honest with Harold as she now was with herself:
"You know why I'm here. You called for a girl. Sandra quit, so they sent me."
"B-but you ... can't be working like ... this!"
Barbara's eyes traveled down her estranged husband's naked form and centered on his cock, which was flaccid. The only way to bridge their embarrassment, she thought, was to get him excited ... and quickly. The realization that he had been seeing another woman and paying that other woman for sexual services while he had been neglecting her made it all the more necessary for her to prove herself to him sexually.
She dropped to her knees.
Never, in all the years of their marriage, had she taken Harold's cock into her mouth. Until Gary and Art had liberated her, she had considered fellatio too nasty for words. Now she loved it. She would make Harold love it too, she vowed-particularly the way she did it!
Bowing to his relaxed genitals, while he remained too surprised-and, she hoped, thrilled-to move or make a sound, she stuck out her pink tongue and tickled the tip of his penis. Without using her hands, she lifted his member with her tongue, then quickly gulped his bare glans into her mouth. She sucked gently on his bulb while bathing it in her saliva, and she cocked an eye up at him.
Harold was gazing down at her in sheer amazement.
Barbara fluttered her tongue-tip against the slitted end of his penis, which she continued to hold in her mouth. Then she gobbled in his entire soft organ, and his balls bumped her chin.
He had been too startled to respond passionately at first. But finally lust, and the wonderful feeling of his wife's moist, sucking mouth, overcame all inhibitions, and his prick stiffened. In moments, his organ was like an iron pipe with a joint at its end, spreading Barbara's lips and pressing against her active tongue.
She showed him how much she appreciated his passion by pumping her hot mouth forward and back on his dong. Her wet lips skidded silkily on his turgid flesh. Her sucking sent thrill after thrill along his stiff member ... and drew his manly flavor onto her tongue. Her head began to spin lightly. Her eyelids fluttered.
"Barbara, you ... you do that so good!" he said. "I ... never knew you could. You never did it for me at home!"
"Am I as ... good as Sandra?" she asked pantingly as she let his cock stick up next to her nose and licked along it.
"Christ, yes!" he exclaimed.
Barbara licked his balls, and he writhed voluptuously. She was getting to him strongly, and she knew it. She caught his cock in her mouth once again and sucked heatedly, driving her lips forward and back across his sensitive ridge.
"Uuuh ... oooooh ... God!" he exclaimed. "I can't stand it!"
Barbara let his superstiff pecker whip free, and the lusty thing bobbed up and down, as if mounted on a spring. She rose and began pulling off her garments.
When she was down to just her garter belt and stockings, she knelt on the bed, with her tits pressed against the mattress and her ass in the air. The widespread position of her knees caused her lush buttocks to part, and her husband stared at her crinkly brown anus for the first time.
"Do me up the back way, Harold!" she cried. "Please! My ass needs a fucking!"
He let out a strangled cry and fell onto her upraised rump. If he blamed her for leaving him to become a prostitute-which he undoubtedly did, Barbara figured-this might let him feel he was getting even. And her own guilt would be assuaged by the pain which his ass-entry would give her, she hoped. Her need .for pleasure through pain was especially strong right then.
The first poke of Harold's spit-slick phallus against her nearly virginal anal sphincter made her gasp. She hoped he wouldn't get discouraged and give up because of her tightness.
He didn't.
His urge to pay her back was no doubt as strong as she had imagined.
Grinding and pushing, his brutal prick spread her taut elastic ring. Wider and wider her asshole stretched until she howled from the hurt. But she also cried:
"Don't stop! Get it IN there! I really neeeeed it!"
Finally Harold's cockhead was fully lodged in her tight nether passage, and she panted from the burning pressure of it. He drove deeper.
Barbara's ass began to grind voluptuously, taking more and more of his turgid cock-length into her clasping rear hole.
"Now move it ... move it!" she cried. "Give my asshole a fucking that I won't forget!"
Harold pumped his prick in her fistlike anus, and she moaned with delight. Pleasure was overwhelming her pain. Every thrust of his knob-ended tool up her rump gave her an added thrill.
"More ... more!" she panted. "Shove it ... deeeeep-er!"
Her husband drove his stiff prick as deeply into her asshole as he could make it go, and she weaved her bottom, causing her buttocks to slap against the base of his pole. He alternately pumped and circled in her clasping anal aperture, stretching the rubbery ring. Her tightness massaged his cock voluptuously. She felt every ridge and vein along his rod as he stroked in and out, in and out ...
Her excitement gathered in a ball which grew bigger and bigger, seeming to lodge in her throat and threatening to suffocate her. Harold's strokes quickened in her rump. The ridge of his cockhead sent ripples along her narrow anal passage.
She was hunching as eagerly as he, slamming her wide ass back at him, making her buttocks shake wildly as they collided with his front.
"Ooooohh ... ooooooooooohhh ... AAAAARRRRRRGH!" she cried as she came.
The spastic contractions of her asshole around his prick caused Harold to shoot. Great spurts of warm cream gushed into her rectum.
She fell forward against the bed, panting as her entire body throbbed with bliss. She relaxed her hands which had been clutching the bedspread.
"Ooooooh, that was wonderful, darling!" she purred.
"It sure was!" he agreed, breathing hard. "Baby, we've got to talk!"
A little while later, they did. They were on a basis now which permitted them to be frank with each other.
"Did you leave me," Harold asked, "so that you could live like this-to screw around with other men and suck them and get your ass fucked?"
"No!" Barbara said truthfully. "I left because I was being blackmailed by some men who wanted me to be a prostitute, and I couldn't face up to it then. But if I didn't do it, they were going to show you some dirty pictures of me ... and spread them all over the neighborhood! They didn't do that, did they?"
"No." Harold seemed mystified.
"That was because I took off, and they decided there was no point in it. They won't now, because I'm doing business with them."
"You mean those guys that run the service? I'll turn 'em in to the cops!"
"Don't do that," Barbara said. "I'll get them to let me off the hook ... gradually. We can still see each other. Of course, you'll have to pay, like you were paying Sandra."
"Damn it, you're my wife!" Harold exclaimed. "There wouldn't have been any Sandra if you had treated me at home like you just did!"
"And I wouldn't have gotten mixed up with anyone else if you had kept me satisfied!" she shot back. "Ooh, Harold, let's not fight! We know each other's needs now ... and I love you. I want to live with you. I've been lonely."
"I've been lonely, too," Harold admitted.
"Then let's go home together."
"Not if you're going to be servicing other guys," Harold said. "My pride won't take that."
"Sandra serviced other men."
"But I wasn't married to her!"
"We could get a divorce," Barbara said brightly, "and still live together! Would that make it all right?"
"Christ!" Harold exclaimed, and held his head in his hands. "I don't want to divorce you! And I don't want to pay for you, either!"
Barbara sighed.
Then suddenly the solution occurred to her: "All we have to do is move out of our old neighborhood! We'll buy a house somewhere else. Then I can quit Gary and Art, and they won't know where I am. How will they be able to hurt me?"
"But in the meantime ... ?"
"We can go on like this," Barbara said, and giggled as she snuggled up to him. "You won't mind paying for it for awhile-will you, honey? Just make believe I'm Sandra."
"Hell!"
Barbara kissed her disgruntled husband, and the liquid gliding of her tongue in his mouth warmed his mood. Before long, they were lying on the bed once more, caressing passionately. Her stroking hand brought Harold's cock back up, and she swung atop him.
Like the whore she was, she captured his hardness in her cunt and began grinding. Her titties jiggled above his face. She smiled.
Harold's happy look told her that he didn't mind being married to a prostitute ... for awhile, at least. Not if she would treat him like this!
They fucked the afternoon away.
Chapter Twelve
Barbara was restless.
She loved her new home, and it was a relief to be free from the clutches of Gary and Art. She and Harold had never been happier. There was, however, something missing from her idyllic new life.
It took her awhile to figure out what the missing element was. Then finally it came to her. She had gotten so she enjoyed selling herself. There was something about collecting a fee for her sexual services that added an extra fillip of excitement, that made her feel especially wanton!
Harold had willingly paid her until she quit the service. Now he wasn't paying any longer. They would screw morning and night, but all she was getting out of it was physical satisfaction. She needed that extra something which bolstered her ego and told her she was worth more to a man than just his time and affection.
She could have gone out prospecting on her own, but she was afraid Harold wouldn't put up with that. She was his wife, after all! And it wasn't as if she required the variety. Harold could give her all the satisfaction she needed ... providing ...
A wicked smile came over her face.
When Harold arrived home that afternoon, she was wearing a sexy negligee as she met him at the front door.
"Hey, what's all this?" he asked with a lascivious grin. "Is my little wife feeling horny?"
She smiled. But when Harold took her in his arms and tried to zero in for a kiss, she wriggled free. She backed up, breathing hard.
"Okay!" Harold said. "What's the deal, huh?"
"The deal is just that it used to be," Barbara replied. "You're going to have to pay if you want me."
"Whaaat? You kissed off the service, didn't you?"
"Yes." Barbara smiled foxily. "But there isn't any reason why I can't go into business for myself!"
"Son of a bitch!" Harold exploded. "This is crazy! You're my wife, and that gives me the right to take you whenever I feel like it-and I don't have to pay, either!"
"Legally, you're right," Barbara admitted. "But if you want to get it really good ... if you want me to come on strong with you ... you're going to have to pay, darling." She shrugged. "It's just a kinky little thing I developed."
"Well, shit!" Harold exclaimed, and he glared at her.
"Don't worry." She stepped up to him and adjusted his jacket lapels, running her thumbtips down the front of his shirt. "I'll make it easy for you. I don't have to charge a big fee now, because I don't have to account to Art and Gary."
"How much?" Harold asked, still obviously disgruntled.
"Let's, uh, just sort of settle that as we go along, shall we? Do you have some change in your pocket?"
"Well, yeah. I guess so." Harold a dug a hand into his trousers and came up with some coins and bills.
His wife's eyes sparkled. "Oooh, that's just wonderful!" she exclaimed, then turned and stepped to a small table where a piggy bank rested. Harold watched in amazement as she brought the bank and held it up in front of him.
"Ten cents to see me without my robe on," she said playfully.
"Ten cents?"
"Mmm-hmmm." Barbara began a mock chant, in the style of an old-time carnival barker. "One thin dime ... the tenth part of a dollar ... to see the lovely lady in her garter belt and stockings!"
Harold quickly dropped a dime in the piggy bank's slot.
"Thank you, sir!" Barbara chirped, and set the bank down.
Smiling wickedly, she unfastened her negligee and let it slide off her shoulders. True to her word, she was naked except for sleek stockings, which ended midway up her thighs, and a lacy white garter belt that framed her enticing patch of pubic curls. She turned, letting Harold look at her ass.
"Hey, wowwww ... let's go into the bedroom, huh?" he said excitedly, and she had the idea that he was picking up on the game.
Giggling, Barbara grasped up the piggy bank and hurried ahead of him. Her well-shaped buttocks wiggled alluringly. Her thightops scissored silkily together, creamy-smooth above the expanded welts of her gartered stockings.
As she entered the bedroom, with Harold right behind, he caught a mirrored image of her elliptical, projecting tits bobbing springily up and down with each stride she took. He began to tear off his clothes.
Barbara turned and faced her excited husband, and there was a look of considerable satisfaction on her petty face. She set the piggy bank on her nightstand.
When Harold pulled his shorts away, his cock was standing up, even though he hadn't so much as touched her, or she him.
He made a move, but she held him back with a hand against his hairy chest.
"Uuh, just what do you want to do first ... sir?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.
"Damn it, I want to take you!" Harold said.
"There are all kinds of taking, and each will cost you something," she pointed out. "How about just petting me first?"
"Okay ... okay!" he said impatiently. "What's that gonna cost?"
"Oooh, fifteen cents sounds fair-don't you think?"
Barbara had never heard of a prostitute who charged by the touch. But that made the game more exciting, she thought. And the price was certainly right! Who could complain?
Not Harold! He hurriedly picked up his pants, pulled his money out of the pocket, and placed it on the nightstand, next to his wife's wicked little bank. She watched pleasurably as he dropped a nickel and dime through the piggy bank's slot.
Then she lay on the bed and held her arms up to Harold. He flopped onto his belly beside her, quickly cupping her tits. He gave her springy-firm mounds a squeeze.
From the eager way that he grabbed at her, and from his excited breathing, she concluded he was having as much fun as she. His very hard prick, sticking up between their bodies, confirmed it.
His hands glided down her sides, across her narrow garter belt and onto her rounded hips. His fingertips dug underneath to sink into the generous softness of her buttocks.
He bowed his head, attempting to seize one of her nipples in his mouth.
"That'll cost you more!" she declared, holding him back. "Ten cents a tit!" she added with a giggle.
Beside himself with excitement, Harold quickly fumbled two more dimes into her bank. Then he dove at the thrusting pink tidbits which adorned her knockers, and he sucked one hungrily into his mouth.
Barbara thrilled as her nipple soaked in his warm saliva while his tongue stroked the throbbing erectile tip. His encircling lips skidded against the tense, pebbly disk that surrounded her hippie.
Transferring his mouth to her other titty crest, he tugged on the stiff stem, stretching it and letting it snap back. Hungrily he sucked it deep into his mouth and groaned while he nursed.
"Want me to play with your cock?" Barbara inquired huskily.
"Yes ... yes ... !" Harold panted, raising his face from her boobs.
"That will cost you fifty cents!" she said firmly.
"Ooh, shit! I don't know if I have it!" He sat up and fumbled through the loose change on the nightstand. He had one quarter, a dime and three nickels. He quickly fed the coins into the piggy's slot.
"Thank you very much!" Barbara purred, and sat up. Her cool, delicate fingers encircled the shaft that soared upward from his hairy loins, and she began to stroke his throbbing hardness.
"Aaaaaahhhhhh!" Harold sighed raspily, and squirmed, pushing his prick rhythmically upward through the pumping circle of her hand.
Barbara laughed merrily, and let go of his cock to cup his warm, velvety nuts. As she rolled his manly baubles in her hand, his up-thrust cock waggled to and fro. Its head was red as a beet, and Barbara enjoyed the way his aroused organ twitched.
"Suck it!" Harold begged. "Oooh damn, put your hot mouth on it!"
"That'll cost you a dollar!" Barbara said, breathing hard.
Blindly he pawed at the crumpled bills on the nightstand, grasped one, and shoved it through the slot of the piggy bank. His wife bowed her head. He lay back and thrilled mightily when he felt her warm, wet mouth encompass the throbbing head of his cock.
She sucked pleasurably on her husband's juicy prick, enjoying the act particularly because he was paying for it. The fact that the payment was only a token didn't matter. If anything, the very cheapness of the charge made her feel all the more wicked and aroused!
Her clasping lips skidded up and down, up and down across the ridge of her husband's cockhead while he writhed. With each lunge, her mouth sank lower and lower around his pole until her throat opened thrillingly to receive him. Her circular pink lips plunged all the way to the base of his organ, and her nose was tickled by his pubic bush as her chin bumped his balls.
Her gullet gulped at his cockhead while her sucking lips stroked his hard column. Harold bobbed his hips fervently against her lascivious lunges, fucking her hot mouth and throat. His balls churned. His eyes rolled. His entire body quivered with delight.
Finally Barbara relinquished his turgid prick, and she bent lower to lick his balls. He shoved upward, causing his testicles to leap astride her nose, and she licked the supersensitive bridge between his nuts and asshole.
She raised her head, panting. "Do you ... want to treat me that way?" she asked. "Only
"Ooh Christ, yes!" Harold husked. "Stick a fucking dollar in the bank!"
Quickly Barbara helped herself to the bill, then fell onto her back beside her horny husband. She spread her stocking-clad legs wide and lifted them. The lips of her pussy were puffed with excitement, and they opened invitingly to reveal the moist pinkness within.
Harold hunkered down, eager to taste her rich honey.
She thrilled mindlessly as she felt her husband's tongue sink into her flesh-pudding and slurp up her female flavor. He licked noisily up across her clit-tip, giving her an electric sensation. When he clasped her suckable little protrusion between his lips and drew on it, while flogging it rapidly with his tongue, she nearly sank into a swoon.
"Oooooh, daaar-ling that's so GOOOOD!" she moaned, heatly working her hips. "Now stick your tongue deep inside me! FUCK me with it! Ooooh, bay-beeeeee!"
Harold pumped his thick tongue in and out of his wife's spasming, slippery fuckhole as she came, throbbing blissfully from head to toes.
"I've got to use my cock!" he cried when he came up for air.
"Five dollars!" Barbara screamed. "Put it in the bank!"
Harold snatched a five-dollar bill from the nightstand and could hardly hold his hand steady enough to work the folded paper through the slot at the top of the piggy bank. But finally he managed it.
Barbara's legs caught him and pulled him atop her. His throbbingly stiff prick speared into her slitted, wet flesh.
"OOOH YESSSS!" she husked, her hips pumping. "FUCK ME! SHIT! OOOH, DRIVE IT HOME, DARLING! SOCK YOUR COCK TO MAMA!"
Harold hunched wildly between her stocking-clad thighs, her metallic garter clasps winking as she alternately tightened and relaxed her serpentine hold on him. Her fleshy buttocks bounced against the bed. Her titties leaped as Harold stayed up on straight arms, watching her impassioned face while they screwed.
"Oooh, baby, I like paying for it!" he rasped. "Make me do that every time!"
"I love it, too!" she said. "Jesus, your prick is so big and hard!"
His husky shaft pumped heatedly in and out of her hair-fringed, pink, wet hole. Each plunge seemed to send him deeper inside her. The ridges on his rod rippled her narrow passage, giving her intense delight.
"FUCK ME ... FUCK ME ... FUCK ME!" she panted.
Her eyes rolled and her head whipped from side to side. Her moist, pink mouth lolled open.
Harold bowed his head and caught her parted lips, giving her a deep kiss. He wrapped his arms around her, plastering his flesh to hers as he rocked her entire body with the force of his fervent fucking.
Barbara's hips pumped perfectly with his, her slippery, snug cunt gulping at each thrust of his turgid member. His balls smacked against her anus.
They rose, thrust by thrust, to a height of passion which they never had reached before. Barbara's excitement brought out every ounce of sexual energy which her husband had. Her voluptuous pussy seemed to wring and shake his plunging prick, threatening to pull it out by the roots!
Sweat filmed their bodies. Barbara's fingernails clawed at her husband's back. Her heated hole all but devoured him. Her heels hammered his bobbing rump.
"OOOOOH ... I'M GOING TO ... CUMMMMM!" she shrieked.
"CUM! CUM!" Harold husked, fucking even more wildly. "GET IT! NOWWWWW!"
He drove deep into her velvet cove, twisted and jerked. His prick spurted.
"AAAAAHHHHHGH!" Barbara breathed roughly, and her hips lurched in spastic up-heavels while her wringer-cunt milked at Harold's twitching cock.
They each had experienced the climax of their lives.
Later, as they lay blissfully side by side, holding hands while they stared at the ceiling, Barbara asked softly, "Did you enjoy it, dear?"
"Christ! You know I did!"
"Was it worth the money?" she inquired.
"Less than ten dollars?" Harold asked incredulously. "It was worth ten times that much-and more!"
Barbara gave a soft little chuckle. "Well, I don't want to bankrupt you. What's yours is mine, after all."
"I think," he said thoughtfully, "that I'll quit giving you a household allowance."
She blinked and sat up to study him.
"Yeah," he went on, a sly smile creeping across his face. "I'm going to make you earn it from now on, but only from me. And no fair raising prices! Ten dollars is the most I'll pay-for the full treatment!"
"B-but ... you know what it costs to live nowadays! The prices at the supermarket are ridiculous!"
"Sure. That just means you're going to have to work very hard and make a lot of money," her husband said. "You can't afford to let that pretty ass of yours rest?"
"Oooh, Harold! Now, wait a minute!" Barbara was alarmed. "I don't know if I like this!"
"It was your deal, honey! And I like it a lot! Yeah, the more I think about it, the better it seems!" He was grinning broadly.
"Harold, you devil!" Barbara said, and snuggled down against him.
"My own private whore!" he replied, and they kissed.
Barbara wasn't unhappy with the arrangement. It was just the price that bothered her. The only solution, it seemed, was to do a better job and get Harold to pay her a higher fee.
Like the well-known auto rental firm, Barbara would have to try harder!
