What's a den mother to do with a house full of horny little cubs, overturning everything-especially her lustful desires-every time the pack meets at her house? Should she give in to her overwhelming passions and grab off one of the little dears and strip him and play with his smooth little body? Should she allow herself that last measure to degradation and actually seduce the child, introducing him to all manner of adult fun and games ... years before his time?
That's the particular den mother's dilemma that Emily Foster faces in Every Kid in the Pack, Sharon Gordon's very first novel. We at Surrey House, Inc. consider ourselves quite fortunate that the charming Mrs. Gordon elected to submit her manuscript to us. We purchased it immediately and asked Mrs. Gordon to rush headlong into a second novel for our Rated X series of strictly adult fiction.
Mrs. Gordon, herself a widow with one small son, lives in Colorado, high up in the cool, cool mountains. The snow is there now, she tells us; a happening that we, here in sunny San Diego, have great difficulty comprehending. A natural phenomenon that always seems to be out of mind in the land of forever sunshine and nauseating smog. Perhaps Mrs. Gordon is right, is accepting the snows and freezing winters in exchange for a small ration of fresh, pollution-free air.
But we digress ... back to Every Kid in the Pack. If you agree that Mrs. Gordon has that essential Extra Something to create superior erotic novels for our adult readers, perhaps you'd be kind enough to drop us a note and tell us about it.
-THE PUBLISHERS
CHAPTER ONE
Emily Foster grimaced in pain. Mack's cock was still too goddamn big; it hurt her terribly. She buried her face against her husband's shoulder so he wouldn't see her tears. Mack always got terribly angry when she didn't enjoy it; he was unaware that she had never enjoyed it.
Emily knew it was psychosomatic, but that didn't make the pain any less real. Mack's cock was unusually large, true; but women's cunts were supposed to be elastic, to become accustomed to any size organ. Emily's hadn't.
Mack shoved his huge dick into her with fury, his animal grunts indicating that he was close to cumming.
Emily's penis-fear began on her sixteenth birthday. It had been a joyful day and among her many beautiful gifts was a pair of delightfully lacy panties and matching bra. She was dying to try them on, and since she was at last alone-she thought-she made a mad dash for her room, her new undies in hand. Her clothing flew every which way until she stood in the nude. The sheer silk felt exquisite as she slid the panties up her thighs. The new bra pushed her breasts into plump hills of soft, pink flesh.
Even at sixteen, Emily's body was lush and full. Her mother was buxom, and Em had inherited generously from her. Since she had the largest tits of any girl in school, they embarrassed her. Emily's younger sister, Joanie, who was three years her junior, burned with envy every time she looked at her sister's full, womanly bosom.
Thinking she was alone, Emily did not close the door to her room, and stood preening in front of the mirror, clad only in her new panties and bra. It was at this precise moment that her Uncle Lester strolled by. He bit down hard on his soggy cigar butt and stared lustfully at the voluptuous young girl.
Uncle Lester was staying with them while he looked for a job. His life's work was looking for a job. He was also a boozer and a lecher. Joanie, who was more alert in matters of sex than her sister, even though she was younger, referred to him as Uncle Luster.
Lester had been drinking heavily, as usual, and his inhibitions were at an alcoholic low. He stepped into her room, his eyes narrowed to slits of lust. "Emily, you're gorgeous!" he hissed, acting as if he had never noticed before. He had. He was forty-two, and many nights he lay in bed and masturbated with thoughts of luscious Emily turning his loins livid with desire.
"Get out! Get out!" Emily screamed. "I'm not dressed."
"Emily, you're beautiful," he choked, throwing his hairy arms around her.
Emily screamed, but there was no one to hear her. She kicked, she bit, she scratched. Still, Uncle Lester, oblivious to her resistance, hauled down her precious new panties and threw her to the bed.
"Take off the bra ... or I'll rip it off," he growled, as his trousers sagged to the floor.
Uncle Lester had a huge penis. It was long, thick, uncircumcised, and very hard. While Emily stared at his massive cudgel in terror, he skinned it back and dabbed at the leering head with a gob of spit. Emily lay paralyzed with fear and revulsion as he lowered his repulsive body against her. She screamed in pain when the knob of his rock-hard cock spread the virgin lips of her tiny cunt and tore her maidenhead open with one animal lunge.
His booze-fogged brain heard nothing but "Fuck her, fuck her, fuck her," and he shoved his cock brutally in. Inch by inch he penetrated her ripped cunt until all seven fat inches of his club-like prick was wrapped inside her tender, young bleeding cunt. He fucked like a mad man. In his drunken condition, it took a long time before he groaned and poured his filth into her belly. It was the only thing she remembered not hurting-his sticky wetness filling her hole.
Lester jerked his wilting plug from her cummy cunt and got shakily to his feet. "I'm sorry, Emily baby, I'm sorry," he whined. "I didn't know what I was doing ... I couldn't control myself."
"Get out of here, you sonofabitch!" she screamed with seldom used profanity. "Get out! Get out!"
Lester dropped to his knees, his hands in a praying position. "Oh God, Emily, what have I done? You won't tell your mother, will you? Please don't tell your mother, I beg you."
Emily looked at her Uncle with hatred. "Never fear, I'll never tell anyone, you monster. I'm too ashamed," she sobbed.
The stricken man pulled up his pants and stumbled blindly down the hall, his slimy cock grating roughly against his zipper.
Emily lay motionless for over an hour, her Uncle's juice oozing from her cunt onto the bed and mingling with the splotchy bloodstains on the sheet. It was something she knew she would never forget. She was scarred for life. She knew she was. And if she was pregnant; oh God, what if she was pregnant? Fortunately, she wasn't.
She never looked her uncle in the eye from that day forward, and he was glad that she didn't. Still, when he was hard up, which was often, he would take his dong in hand and pump with vigor to thoughts of her firm, young body. It was the only time in his life that he raped a girl, and it had to be the most exciting fuck of his life. When he died from a massive heart seizure at forty-seven, he had his cock in his hand and Emily on his mind. Uncle Lester never had the good luck to discover that Joanie would have been a far more willing rape than her sister.
Emily refused to date for three years after Uncle Lester's assault, reliving each horrible minute nightly. As the memory faded, she met Mack, who was four years older than she, and fell in love. After a lightning courtship, she knew it was the real thing and became his bride at the age of nineteen.
She gave herself to him willingly on their wedding night, sure she had recovered from her trauma. She screamed in pain all the way through her first wedded sex act. Mack didn't mind, he was proud of his eight-inch ball bat, and assumed any normal girl would be hurt at first, but would grow to love it. He got angry when she didn't.
From then on, Emily gave in only when she had to, and tried to act as though she enjoyed it, fooling her husband only part of the time. He decided she was just a cold woman sexually, and used her only when his urges were strong and there wasn't anyone else available. Most of the time there was someone else available.
Mack Foster was the president of the First National Bank; wealthy, important, and debonair. He was a big man, and at thirty-nine still hard-muscled and athletic. At his club, where he worked out daily, he was both handball and swimming champion.
His good looks and money made available all the young pussy he could handle. The bank and his many clubs were full of good-looking girls, and though he was discreet, he did indulge himself.
Materially, he provided Emily and their daughter, Angie, with all the good things in life. They lived in the best part of town in a sumptuous two-story house with ample grounds and a large swimming pool. The best school for Angie, the best country club for Emily, fine clothes, fine automobiles were all no more than what they had come to expect.
Emily felt from the first that she would get over her sexual impasse, but she hadn't. Married almost sixteen years now, and intercourse still hurt as much as when Uncle Lester had raped her. Even having Angie, who weighed over ten pounds at birth, hadn't made any difference. She was tender down there, and her snatch tightened with fear every time Mack approached her.
Mack pounded his dick wildly into her. "Oh goddamn, it's good," he moaned, as he exploded with cum into her. "Did you like it, Em? Did you make it, too?" he cried.
"Yes, yes it was wonderful," Emily lied through clenched teeth.
Her husband strained out his last drops into her tight orifice and pulled his monstrous organ free. Emily sighed with relief. His ejaculation was the only part she enjoyed at all; the wetness inside her cunt was comforting. She blushed when she realized she would prefer for him to pull out and squirt his sticky syrup onto her cunt lips and thighs where there was more feeling.
Mack's cock was as big and hard as Uncle Lester's, probably even bigger. She tried so damn hard to enjoy it, but she couldn't. It just hurt too damn much.
Emily got up and went into the bathroom to clean herself. She felt of her husband's sticky cum in her cunt and raised her hand to look at the viscid stuff on her fingertips. For an instant she wondered what it tasted like, then with a blush, she felt repulsed. She wiped her fingers on a towel.
Pushing down the top of her gown, she stared at her huge, melon-like breasts, still erect and firm. At thirty-five, her figure was outstanding. With the palms of her hands she rubbed both her nipples until they stood hard and enflamed. She longed for Mack to fondle and suckle at her breasts. He had at first, sending thrills up her spine, but now it was warn, bam, thank you ma'am! Emily wanted so to enjoy sex with her husband. She had never experienced an orgasm.
When she returned to bed, Mack was sawing logs. She crawled in beside him with a shudder. Thank God that's over for another night, she thought. He didn't use her much any more, but when he did, it was in bursts, taking her nightly for three or four nights in a row. Tonight was the first time in two and a half months, and her cunt twitched with terror at the thought of tomorrow night.
Her spirits rose when she remembered that tomorrow, Joanie was coming to stay with them for a few days. Emily always begged off when they had company, since the guest room was next to theirs and she didn't want to embarrass anyone. Mack invariably grumbled, but complied with her wishes. He swore he was going to build another wing on their already immense house just so he could fuck his wife when he wanted to. Emily always blushed at his choice of words, yet was so relieved that she said nothing.
Joanie arrived the next morning. It was Saturday and the bank was closed, but Mack had gone to the club and Angie was spending the weekend with friends. Emily met her sister at the door and gave condolences for her family's absence.
Joanie looked pert and athletic, as usual. She was better looking than Emily and had a better figure, unless one's taste ran to massive tits. Joanie's breasts were ample, but not abundant like Emily's.
Contrary to her parent's belief, Joanie had married well, not affluently like Em, but definitely upper middle class. Her husband, Ray Valverde, was a clinical psychologist; he was also Spanish-American. Her mother threw a fit when Joanie started going with that "Mexican," and feigned complete collapse when she married him.
Emily, on the other hand, liked Ray. She had been drawn to the suave young man from the moment Joanie introduced them. If she hadn't already been married, perhaps ... He was the opposite of Mack; slightly built and fine featured, with an extremely dark complexion.
Joanie came to stay with her sister for a couple of days once or twice a year, even though she lived in the same city. "Every now and then I just have to get away from my three brats' incessant squabbling and the overbearing intelligence of my husband," she stated candidly.
Shortly after lunch, Mack returned home and embraced his comely sister-in-law, kissing her lightly on the cheek. He felt the firmness of her vibrant body. Although there was only three years separating the girls, Joanie seemed much younger. Mack had a penchant for young girls.
"I hate to admit this, Joanie," Emily said, "but I forgot you were coming today and made an appointment at the beauty shop for this afternoon. I'm sorry, hon. I can call and cancel it, if you wish."
"For Christ's sake, Em, keep the goddamn appointment. I'm not a child, you know. And stop the goddamn apologizing. You're always apologizing."
Emily blushed. "I'm sor ... okay, I'll go. I have a little shopping to do afterwards, perhaps Mack won't mind entertaining you until I get back." Emily felt that Mack resented Joanie's visits.
"I'd be pleased," Mack said, "and I'll start by getting us a drink." He crossed the room to the lavishly equipped bar.
"You don't have to babysit me, Mack, but I will accept that drink. God knows I need it. I plan to spend the afternoon in that luscious pool of yours. This goddamn heat is killing me. The next car Ray buys will sure as hell have a goddamn air conditioner. You can bet your ass on that."
Emily shook her head. Joanie could be so crude, sometimes. It was almost as if she wanted to shock everyone. Mack found her titillating.
Joanie went upstairs to change into her swimsuit and Emily left for the beauty parlor. Mack sat down to finish his drink. When he figured it was about time for Joanie to be coming down, he went to the bar and mixed two more. He almost dropped them both when Joanie stepped into the room. She was wearing a bikini so skimpy that Mack swore there wasn't anything left to see.
"Here's a fresh drink. And WOW!" he said, handing her the brimming glass.
"Thanks, I needed that." She took the glass and poured most of its contents down without taking a breath.
"Finish that," Mack said, "and I'll get you another and we can sit on the patio a while before you take a dip."
"Okay," she said, and put the rest of the drink away.
Gyrating her hips with emphasis, she crossed the room and went out the French doors. She was stretched out on a chaise lounge when Mack appeared with the drinks.
After four trips back to the bar, Mack could see that his sexy sister-in-law was getting tight. She stretched languorously on the lounge, allowing a tuft of pubic hair to peek out above the skimpy bikini. Her boobs weren't bulbous like Emily's, but they looked it, the way they were fighting to get out of the tiny bra. She looked over at Mack, a twinkle in her deep blue eyes.
"Let's take a dip, Mack," she said.
"I don't feel much like it now, I swam three miles at the club this morning."
"We could go in the nude."
"That makes it sound more interesting," Mack said, "but there's not much of you left to see."
"Only the best part, tiger," she said, blowing a wisp of bluish smoke from her nostrils.
Mack got up and went over and sat beside her on the lounge chair. "Joanie," he said, "I've wanted to get in your pants ever since the day I saw you first."
"All you had to do was ask," she replied.
He kissed her then, and her arms came up around his neck.
His hand went to the strings holding her bikini bottom together and quickly laid her crotch bare. He glanced down at her furry mound and slid his hand between her legs. They came open to his touch.
"I must say, you're not a blonde all over," he said between kisses.
"The beauty shop helps keep the top that way, and Ray prefers it darker down yonder."
"So do I," Mack said, his other hand working on her bra.
Her cunt was wet and hot now with his finger working in and out. She played over his lips and into his mouth with her tongue.
"God, what a beautiful body," he mumbled, now that she was naked.
"I'm glad you like it, big man. Although I was sure you would, but now it's time to see yours. Emily won't be busting in on us, will she?"
"No. When she goes to the beauty shop and shopping, you can count on her being gone for hours. And Angie is gone for the weekend, and the maid and cook won't be back until tomorrow, so we're all alone."
"Fine," Joanie said through wetted lips. "Now stand up so I can take off your pants."
Joanie tugged at his belt and pulled his trousers down his hefty legs. She looked and jerked her head back. She lifted the tail of his shirt and looked again.
"You're wearing women's panties ... why you great big fairy," she sputtered.
Emily drove her big Caddy through the busy intersection, the sweat dripping from her armpits. After what Joanie had said, she felt guilty and didn't turn on the air conditioner. She was sorry now.
By the time she got to the beauty shop, her head was splitting. She wheeled the big car into the parking lot and right out again. She knew she wouldn't be able to stand sitting under a dryer with such a headache, and the shopping could go to hell, she was going to go back home.
The excitement of Joanie coming, the excessive heat, it had all been too much. "I'm just a big baby," she said, as she wheeled the Caddy into the driveway. She didn't bother to put the car in, even though the door was automatic, and slipped quietly in the front door. She'd just say hi to Mack and Joanie and go upstairs and lie down for a while.
Emily stopped short just inside the open French doors. The statement came to her loud and clear.
"You're wearing women's panties ... why you great big fairy."
Emily peeked through the French doors and felt faint. There stood her husband, his trousers down around his ankles, and her own sister sitting stark naked holding up her husband's shirt tail. And Mack was wearing a pair of lacy little women's panties.
"I'm no fairy," Mack said calmly. "Just look for yourself." His huge cock was rock hard and straining mightily against the confining silk.
Joanie reached up and grasped his pecker through the dainty garment. "Then why the women's undies?" she asked.
"Because it feels good. I have a complete collection, all different sizes and types. You know the kind with a split crotch? They let my nuts hang out and swing free, it's very exciting. I like them real tight the best. I skin it back and pull it up against my belly so the head rubs under the waistband. Jesus, that feels good, to walk around with the underside of my cockhead rubbing wantonly against silk all day. That's it, honey, rub it up and down. Damn, that feels good."
Joanie jacked him off slowly through the silk panties. "Does Emily know about your little perversion?"
"That prude? Hell no, she doesn't really know me at all. I keep a variety of pairs down at the bank, and there's this one little secretary who sucks me off through the panties. When I get her lined up I put on a big pair with lots of room, and she gets on her knees and starts jacking me off real slow like until it's hard and skinned back all the way. Then she bunches the silk around it and puts it into her mouth and starts sucking. When I cum, and it doesnt take long, she strains the stuff through pure silk. God, she sucks my balls dry ... and drinks every drop."
Emily leaned heavily against the French door, a feeling of nausea climbing from her heaving stomach. At the same time, she tried to figure out which one of the girls he was talking about. Strangely, her cunt seemed on fire.
"Do you mean like this?" Joanie asked, lowering her face. She opened her jaws and engulfed his silk-surrounded cock.
"Yeah, baby, like that," he moaned, pulling her face to his crotch.
"No, Joanie, not my little Joanie," Emily gasped under her breath.
"Take off all your clothing except the panties," Joanie said, freeing her mouth from his cock.
She sat entranced as he pulled off his clothes, revealing his massive, masculine body. The minute he was stripped, she bent forward and took his covered cock in her mouth again. After several minutes of sucking, she raised up and pulled the panties down his legs. His massive organ popped free, jutting out in front of him.
"Oh, God, it's so big, so beautiful," she cried, licking up one side and down the other. "Does Emily ever do this for you?"
"Hell no!"
"Have you ever asked her?" "No."
"Why don't you? She might like it," Joanie said, as she shoved the huge red knob between her lips.
Mack threw his head back and groaned with pleasure. "She's just not the type, baby. God, but you know how to suck a man's cock."
Emily stood frozen to the spot. She was horrified, still she realized she would rather he put it in her mouth than down there where it hurt so much. Emily was confused; she felt a longing between her legs that she rarely experienced. Stranger than that, her panties were wet, something that had never before happened to her. More by reflex than anything else, her hand went beneath her skirt and gripped the soggy crotch of her panties.
"It's your turn to service me for a while," Joanie said, raising up. She lay back on the lounger and opened her magnificent thighs. "Suck my cunt a little, lover.'"
Mack kneeled before her and lowered his face to her reeking cunt. "Do you ever suck Ray's cock?" he asked before plunging in.
"Yes, all the time."
"Does he ever eat your pussy?"
"Regularly, darling. Ray is the best cunt-lapper I've ever had, those Latins know what a girl's pussy is for. Have you ever done Emily?"
Mack didn't answer, only shook his head in the negative as he steeled himself and plunged into her quim.
"Poor girl. . . .Oh, that's wonderful, Mack ... she'd love it. Mack, Mack, darling! Give me your tongue ... it's grand."
Emily felt horrified, shocked, ashamed; but worse she was fascinated. Without completely realizing it, she was busy manipulating her hungry clit, rubbing between the thick wet lips protecting her vagina, and then to her own amazement, her finger slid up inside her tender hole. And there was no pain; it felt delightful, exciting, wonderful.
"I'm ready now, darling," Joanie said, "I'm ready to take that huge prong of yours. Fuck me, Emily's husband, fuck me hard!"
Mack raised up and wiped across his mouth with his forearm. "It's rough starting, but the taste gets better as you go along," Mack said. "And now, Big Mack is going to show you what it's all about."
Big Mack took his bologna-sized cock and nuzzled at the gate. Joanie squirmed invitingly and he shoved it inside. Joanie swallowed it up like he had the last pecker on earth. She moaned and gurgled with contentment, saliva bubbling at the corners of her mouth.
"What's the matter, Joanie, doesn't that great lover of a husband give you enough?" Mack asked, his male ego inflating.
Joanie writhed on her impalement. "Oh, he gives me lots, and he's good, too, but like the rest of him, his cock is so fuckin' little ... I need a real he-man every once in a while. Oh, Jesus, that's good, Mack. Do it hard, and as fast as you can without cumming too soon."
"Oh, God no, Joanie," Emily hissed, "hell kill you." How can you stand it, darling? Doesn't it hurt terrible? Emily couldn't understand it, she seemed to be loving every hard, horrible inch. She was rapidly finger-fucking herself now.
Joanie hunched up against Mack's driving cock. "Do it hard, Mack. Faster, faster, I'm about to cum."
"Oh, Christ, me too, Joanie," Mack cried, pumping his dick faster as the tickle started in his nuts.
"Uh ... uh!" Emily gurgled, a feeling she had never before felt taking possession of her senses.
Mack came....
Joanie came....
And Emily came.
"Shit! That was good," Mack said.
"It was good," Joanie repeated.
"It ... it was wonderful," Emily murmured, slumping to her knees.
"Get us another drink, Mack, and then let's take a dip in the nude before Sis comes home," Joanie said.
"We'll skip the drink, Emily ll be home before too long," Mack answered. "Let's go." He pulled her from the lounge chair and they ran to the pool hand in hand.
Emily sat in a helpless heap at the French doors. If Mack had gone for a drink, he'd have tripped over her. She finally got to her feet and, with wobbling legs, went up to her room. Flopping onto the bed, she thrust her hand inside her sopping panties and played with her still-excited pussy. Emily had the second orgasm of her life several minutes later.
When Mack finally came up to the bedroom dripping wet and found Emily lying on the bed, she told him she had developed a headache shopping and had just gotten home. She lay on the bed and watched Mack get dressed. She shuddered as she watched him stand in front of the mirror and play with his monstrous cock. It grew long and hard in his hand and he jacked-off for several minutes, stopping before he came. She knew he was thinking of her sister, Joanie.
Mack suggested they go out that evening, and after Emily had dressed, she slipped quietly downstairs and heard Mack and Joanie talking softly in the den. She slipped up to the door and peeked inside. They each had a drink and they were kissing.
"After Em goes to sleep tonight, come next door and keep little Joanie company," she said, nibbling on his lower lip. She had one hand pressed over his dick at the front of his pants.
"I will if I can," Mack said. "Emily doesn't always sleep too good and I don't want to take any chance of waking her." His free hand slid back and forth over her ass.
"Feed her a lot of drinks tonight so she'll pass out."
"I'll try, but she's really not a very heavy drinker."
Emily drank heavily that night. Everything that Mack shoved at her, she sopped up. Emily's capacity surprised even herself, and she had to pretend drunkenness. They stayed out quite late, and as Emily appeared drunker, Mack became more attentive ... to Joanie. By the end of the evening, they were dancing close and necking on the dance floor.
They put Emily in the back seat where she pretended to be asleep. Mack and Joanie necked in the front seat and Joanie played with his hard cock all the way home.
Emily felt depraved and sick, yet she feigned deep sleep so Mack would go to her sister's room. The minute Mack left their bed, she got up and followed. Settling on the floor in front of Joanie's door, she eased the door open and sat listening to her husband and her sister make love.
"Oh, Mack, that feels grand," Joanie said, after he had sunk his slick cock deep into her cunt. "With Em passed out, you can leave your dong in there all night."
"God, Joanie, you have a marvelous snatch. Why can't your sister like fucking like you do?"
"I don't know, she's sure as hell built for it," Joanie answered. "Oh, Keerist, baby doll, move it around ... I love your cock."
"Yeah, yeah," Mack said, "but not too much, I don't want to cum yet."
"I don't want you to cum until dawn, lover."
Emily lay in the darkened hall cumming wildly. Her legs were wide apart, her index finger to the hilt in her cunt and her thumb rubbing her clit furiously. The alcohol licked at her numbed brain and the orgasm rolled through her loins. She writhed in ecstasy on the thick carpet.
"Sonofabitch, oh shit, oh fuck," she moaned silently. "I love it, I love it. Oh, Mack, why haven't you ever made me feel like this?"
CHAPTER TWO
Monday morning Joanie left the Foster home a contented woman. She embraced her sister and told her it was the best two-day vacation she had ever had. As Joanie whipped out of the driveway and peeled rubber down the street, Emily watched with mixed emotions. She couldn't really blame her sister; she seemed to enjoy it so. About Mack, though, she was understandably bitter-the two-timing, goddamn sonofabitch, fucking her own sister. And she wondered who the little slut was that was sucking-off her handsome husband down at the bank. Probably every broad in the joint.
In the glaring light of day, Emily felt ashamed. Last night she had again fallen into a phony sleep so her husband could go to her sister's bed. She had actually crawled into the room and masturbated on the floor beside the bed while her husband fucked her sister.
She went up the long stairway with a sick feeling. Going straight to the bedroom, she ransacked her husband's closet. Finding nothing, she went to his bureau. There she found an assortment of women's underwear to stagger the imagination. Panties of all sizes, types, and materials. . . and bras. Did the big sonofabitch wear a brassiere, too?
Next she went to his den and got the keys that he thought were so well hidden. She went through his desk; nothing out of place there. Then to his filing cabinet. God, there it was, four drawers of pornography. Books, pictures, films, everything.
Emily Foster learned things that she didn't know existed. The time slipped away as she poured over the piles of erotic material. Her concentration was broken by the sound of the front door opening. She froze in the big swivel chair. Had Mack come home early?
"Mom, are you home?" came the shrill call of her fifteen-year-old daughter.
She heard Angie's feet racing up the stairs. She hurriedly gathered up everything in sight and shoved it back into the filing cabinet. Once it was locked she breathed a sigh of relief and prepared herself to leave the den. Angie's flying feet came back down the stairs.
"It's okay, Tommy," she called. "You go into the living room and fix us a drink while I check to make sure the servants are gone, too."
Emily recoiled. She stepped back into the curtains so Angie wouldn't see her if she looked in the den. Tommy? Fix a drink? She had a boy with her, and they were going to get into her father's liquor. Angie, her precious baby daughter, only fifteen two months ago.
Angie returned from the kitchen and went into the living room. Emily slipped from behind the curtain and went to the huge, arched doorway, remaining just out of sight.
"No one there, sweetie, we're alone." Angie said. "Got that drink made yet? God, but I need a drink. I spent the whole weekend at that prude, Annie's house. Jesus, what a dull weekend. No guys, no dope, no booze, no nothin'. Give me that drink, I hope you made it strong."
Emily peeked around the corner; she felt faint. While Angie tipped a glass of whiskey to her lips, Tommy, the twenty-one-year-old son of a local industrialist, lifted her skirt. He played lightly across the silk-covered cheeks of her ass.
"Hold it, big boy, don't get too horny. I have bad news for you." Angie said, twisting away.
"Before you lay it on me, baby, let's light up, I have a couple of good dubies with me," Tommy countered.
"Not here, you prick, my old man's got a nose like a bloodhound. He'd detect it if we took one puff."
"Shit," Tommy said. "Well, we can sop up your old man's booze and get tight, anyway. What news could be bad after that?" He lunged at her, but she giggled and jerked away.
"I'm wearing the rag, lover," she squealed.
"You dirty little bitch!" Tommy shouted. "If you're in that condition, why the fuck did you invite me over?"
"Don't get so excited, lover. Little Angie ll take care of you." She walked over and pulled his zipper down. Handing him her empty glass with one hand, she pulled out his lengthening cock with the other. She had it hard in a matter of seconds. "Fix me another drink, strong like the last one, and we'll make
Emily couldn't believe her eyes. She rubbed them and looked again. There stood her darling baby daughter playing with a full grown man's erected penis. It looked hard and menacing. Her whole world was crumbling; it wasn't possible. First her husband and now her infant daughter. She wanted to rush in and stop it, but her legs wouldn't move.
"Let's go up to my bedroom, just in case someone comes home." Angie said.
Emily ducked out of sight as Angie led Tommy up the stairs, his cock grasped tightly in her hand. She knew she should flee from this den of lust, but she followed quickly, silently up the stairs. She went to the bedroom next to Angie's and stepped inside. Stepping to the closet, she quietly opened the big sliding door, hoping that Angie's was open. The two rooms shared the same closet and if both doors were open, you could look right through. She was in luck, and stepped into the closet among Angie's clothing and peered through the partially open door.
They were sitting on the bed finishing their drinks. Angie put her empty glass down and said, "Hurry up and get naked, Tommy, I'm going to suck you off."
"God, Angie, that sounds great. You never offered to do that before, I thought straight screwing was your bag."
"If you're concerned that I don't know how, relax; I've had experience."
Emily watched while they both stripped. Once he was naked, Tommy flopped onto the bed, his horrible cock sticking up in the air. Angie was naked, too; wearing only her sanitary belt and pad. My God, Emily moaned to herself, she only had her first period. . . what? Two years ago? And here she was, a slut, a filthy whore, fucking and sucking cock. With a feeling of loathing for herself, her hand slowly lifted her skirt.
Angie crawled up on the bed and took Tommy's enormous cock in her mouth. Angie sucked, Tommy moaned, Emily masturbated.
"Geez, Angie, you suck cock better than my mother," Tommy said, his voice fuzzy.
Angie raised up off the hard shaft. "You mean to tell me your own mother sucks your cock?"
"She sure does, and my brother's, too."
"The next thing you ll tell me is that she lets you fuck her."
"She sure as hell does. Man, does she ever have a big, sloppy cunt. She juices up more than any broad I ever screwed. Now get on with your sucking, I wanta shoot my nuts off in your mouth."
Angie bent to her task. As she gobbled on his rod, her breasts brushed against his stomach. Angie was going to have tits like her mother's, big and proud. They were already 36's.
Emily was close to spending. She hunched in the closet and worked feverishly on her cunt. Suck it, Angie, suck it, her mind ordered, make him cum into your mouth. You wanton little bitch. And Marion Connely, how can you do such things with your own son? It's horrible, horrible; the whole world is horrible. Emily started to cum. Her knees buckled. A sigh of pleasure escaped her lips. What does it taste like, Angie, is cum good?
Tommy gave a loud groan and Angie tried to jerk back. He grabbed her head and held her in place. "Suck it, you bitch," he cried. "You're gonna drink it all, you dirty little cocksucker."
Gagging, she took his first spurt. She had never sucked a guy all the way before, and she hated it, it was so slippery and sickening, like raw eggs, only it burned in her throat. Tommy fucked his dick in and out of her lips, unloading his balls of all they had. When he released her, she fell back spitting and coughing; but it was too late, she had swallowed it all.
"That's awful, Tommy, I hate it," she said, wiping at her mouth with her arm. "Does your mother like it?"
"Hell no, she hates it worse than you do. But I always hold her head and make her drink it like I did you. When I let her up she calls me a bunch of filthy names, but she always comes back for more. I think she secretly-likes it."
"Goddamn, I need a cigarette after that." Angie got up and went to her dresser. She took out a pack of cigarettes and lit up. After several deep drags she pushed her pad off and returned to the bed. "Tommy, I'm all hot and bothered now, fuck me. I'm almost done with my period."
"Hell no. I wouldn't if I could ... and I can't. Look."
His cock was limp and wrinkled up. She took her hand and played with it.
"Don't do that, it hurts now." He got up and started getting dressed. "I better get the hell out of here before your mother gets home. We were taking a hell of a chance the way it was. Speaking of your old lady, would I ever like to ream out her pussy. Man, what a set of knockers. My old woman's are like two fried eggs." He pulled his pants up and jerked the zipper into place. "Hey, think there's any chance my getting into your momma's panties?"
"You gotta be kidding, you sonofabitch. My mom's not like that, besides, she's a prude. She won't even let my dad fuck very often."
Emily was in a daze now, sitting on the floor in the closet. How does she know that? she asked herself. Is it so obvious?
Angie sat on the edge of the bed fingering herself angrily as Tommy charged down the stairs and out of the house. Emily got a ring-side view as Angie lay back, spread open her legs, and jacked herself off. Angie humped and moaned, falling limp when at last her orgasm drained the passion from her young body. Afterward, she got up and lit another cigarette and stood cursing.
My baby, my darling little Angie, nothing but a wanton slut, Emily moaned. And me, I'm no better; actually, I think I'm worse. I hide and watch my loved ones in their sordid, perverted acts, and I enjoy it. But it feels so goddamn good! Her fingers went under the wet leg band of her panties. It was almost as if she was trying to make up for lost time.
That night when Mack came home, she wanted to rush up to him and blurt out everything she knew; that she had seen him with Joanie on the patio, that she had feigned sleep so he would sneak into Joanie's room, that she had masturbated while she watched and brought herself to the first orgasm of her life, and yes, even what she had witnessed their young daughter doing. But she didn't.
Instead, she decided to let him fuck her, to see if at last she could enjoy his massive prick. She hoped that he hadn't used himself up with the sluts at the bank. With chagrin, she wondered if he had ever had Marion Connely, the woman who committed incest with her sons. She didn't need to wonder too hard, because he had. In fact, he'd had both she and her
J sixteen-year-old daughter. He didn't care much for the momma, but her daughter was a pretty wild piece of tail.
It was one of those rare nights when he stayed j home, when he didn't have something else lined up; like a board meeting, or a banquet to speak at, or a juicy little piece of ass waiting to be plucked from the tree of virginity.
She had several drinks with her husband and showed him glimpses of her snowy thighs until she was sure he was feeling the effects of her seduction before she went upstairs and disrobed. She came to the top of the stairs in the nude and beckoned to him. Damn, he thought, what the hell's gotten into her? and went up to the bedroom.
She had the lights down low, but not off. "Come to bed, darling." she cooed.
"Goddamn, Em, that's the first invitation I've gotten from you in fifteen years."
"Then get in here and take advantage of it," she said.
"I plan to," he answered, shucking off his pants.
He crawled in beside her. Her body was hot and naked; he usually had to lift up her gown and fight to get at her. She responded wonderfully.
"Suck my breasts," she said softly.
He put his mouth to her large nipples; they grew hard and swollen. His hand went down her belly to her cunt. It was wet. Jesus, that's a first, he thought. He tested it with his finger, it was open and ready.
Her hand came out and touched his cock. It was a timid touch, but she did touch his cock.
"Squeeze it," he commanded.
She did, wrapping her fingers around its mighty girth. It frightened her a little. She tensed.
"God, I can't wait," Mack cried, and rolled over on top of her. He took his cock and nuzzled at her entrance. She groaned. "You really want it, don't you?"
"Do it, Mack," she mumbled.
He parted the lips and shoved his cockhead inside, then rammed for home.
Emily bit her lip until she could taste the warm blood. The pain was horrible. She caught the scream in her throat and swallowed hard. Oh God, it still hurts, maybe even worse than before. The veins in her neck stood out, her eyes flooded with salty tears.
"Damn, this is good," Mack grunted. "Come on, Em, get with it. Don't lay there like a dummy, toss that ass around a little."
Emily's body was rigid. It was like sawing into a knothole in a dead tree. Mack could feel it and lost interest quickly. He started ripping into her brutally, trying to get it over with as fast as possible.
It's no use, Emily cried inside, I can't stand the pain; I'll never enjoy it. She bit down on her lip again to keep from crying out. She could tell Mack was angry and being deliberately rough. He's a beast, a horrible beast!
Mack could get almost there, but not quite, something in his brain kept putting him off. In anger, he finally jerked his slippery cock out and started pulling on it with his hand. He felt the good feeling coming and crawled up to her face.
"You're a lousy fuck, Emily, and you'll always be a lousy fuck," he said nastily. "You won't need to worry about me bothering you any more. I can get all the pussy I want elsewhere. For old time's sake, though, this one is on you."
He started cumming and spurted onto her face. She lay quietly as he shot gob after gob onto her mouth, cheeks, and nose. He milked it dry and wiped it clean on her breasts.
"You didn't like it at all, did you?" he asked.
"No," she said flatly. "I never have."
"Piss on you," he said, and stalked from the room.
Emily lay deathly still for several minutes. Then her tongue flicked out and wiped around her lips, drawing back inside with the sticky goo. She wanted to reach down and masturbate, but her cunt hurt too much.
CHAPTER THREE
Emily lay in the lounge chair she had seen her husband take her sister on and chewed on her sunglasses. She was taking stock, and she didn't like the results. First she had witnessed her sister and husband fucking, and had compounded it by allowing it to continue for two days. Then she sat and watched while her teenage daughter committed a lewd act. And the worst part of it all was, that she had enjoyed it immensely. Why, after thirty-five years, had all this happened in three short days?
Her desire for sexual fulfillment was aroused and she could see no way to go about it. Mack was out; intercourse was still unbearably painful, besides, there was a chance he would never touch her again. He had stayed out late every night for a week now, and then slept in the den. She missed her husband in bed at night, not for sex, just for man. She liked sleeping with a man; it was comforting to her.
Masturbation? Perhaps, but not too-likely. She had tried it several times and found that it was a waste of time unless she was watching an erotic scene. She had tried it with Mack's collection of porno, but had managed but one weak, unsatisfying orgasm in all the time since she watched Angie suck Tommy Connely's big cock. That day she had soared to the stars on the magic of her probing fingers. God, it made her hot just to think of it; yet, if she was to try it now, it would fall flat. She knew it.
Her reverie was halted by the entrance of Norma Burgman, her next door neighbor. Norma was in her early forties and probably as good a friend as Emily had. She was a tall, skinny woman with untold energies. Her husband was a successful trial lawyer with little time for his wife and children, so Norma burned her adrenalin with civic duties.
"Hi, Em," Norma said. "Your front door was open so I just came on in. Getting some sun?"
"No, just sitting here thinking. I'm bored to tears with nothing to do."
"I wish I could say that, I've got too damn much to do. In fact, this is the first free minute I've had in two weeks. I know you shouldn't drink during the day, but it must be night somewhere. Let's have a drink."
"Okay," Emily said, getting up. "What would you like?"
"Scotch on the rocks as always, and make it a big one. God, can I use it. I just finished a den meeting and those little bastards drive me out of my mind."
Emily went inside the house to the bar. Norma followed close behind. "Are you still a den mother?" Emily asked. "Neither one of your boys is still in the scouts, are they?"
"Hell no, only I've been a den mother so long I can't seem to kick the habit. Actually, that's what I came to talk to you about, only I wanted to get a couple of drinks inside you first."
"Okay, let's have it. I knew it couldn't be asocial call."
"You make me feel like a heel," Norma said, feigning shock. She took the frosty glass from Emily's hand and took a hefty belt. "Sidney has finally consented to take a month off-after all these years-and go on a vacation with me. A whole month in Bermuda, just the two of us ... if I can get a babysitter for my goddamn cub scout pack, that is. It's just for a month ... please!"
Now Emily took a stiff belt. "Christ, Norma, now you make me feel like a heel. Why me? You have all kinds of civic-minded friends."
"It's kind of for you. You need something to do, something to get your mind off of doing nothing. Besides, it's just one meeting a week, four meetings in all."
"But, Norma, I've never had any little boys around my house, I wouldn't know what to do."
"Really, there's nothing to it. I'd have the meetings all laid out for you, and with that scrumptious pool of yours, they'll swim most of the time. That cheap goddamn Sidney never would put in a pool for us."
"Yeah, and one of the little tykes drowns ... boy, some scandal."
"That won't let you off the hook, honey, I've already talked to a boy scout with a lifesaving badge to come and be a lifeguard."
"It looks like I really don't have much to say about it," Emily said.
"Right, kid, you're elected."
"Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. I've always wanted a little boy. They can be so darn sweet."
"Sweet! Could be I'm not doing you any favor, after all," Norma said, draining her glass and handing it back for a refill. "Em, they're little monsters. Dirty, bad mannered and always playing nasty tricks on you. And, you won't believe this, but even at their tender age ... sex! You look shocked, well it's true, at nine and ten, sex has reared its ugly head."
Emily didn't believe it, but it didn't matter, she was intrigued with the idea now. It would take her mind off her problems. And she needed that.
When she told Mack, he thought it was a great idea, just what she needed. Deep down, he didn't give a shit. About time the cold-assed broad got off her butt and did something, anything, he thought.
The day of reckoning arrived and the little dears trooped in like a pack of banshees. After the first thirty minutes she was as delighted with the pool as they were. She didn't go in, but it got them all in one place and out of her hair. Norma was right, they were little monsters.
Tim, the boy Norma had engaged to be the lifeguard wasn't much bigger than the boys he was guarding. He was more mature, though; her first hint of that was the approving glances she received. He was fifteen and slight of build, perhaps wiry would be a better term. He wasn't used to den mothers looking like Emily. She was not only a good looker ... but built.
She sat in a deck chair back from the edge of the pool and sipped at her Scotch and water. She had started with iced tea, but knew after the first one that tea just wouldn't cut the mustard. Leaning back, she crossed her legs and relaxed.
Emily didn't intentionally display herself at first, but current fashions are not conducive to modesty, and Tim quickly took note of the ample amount of white thigh being exposed. Her blouse was not low cut; yet revealed more womanly bosom than den mothers of the past had ever shown him.
It was some time before Emily realized what the boy was doing. She started watching him carefully without turning her head, her eyes hidden behind dark glasses. There was no doubt about it, he was constantly maneuvering to positions where he could look up her dress.
Shaken by the realization, she killed her drink and went into the house for another. She took a stiff belt from the bottle and, once it took effect, returned to her lawn chair. She settled back, pretending to nap, and crossed her legs again. Tim sat at the edge of the pool sneaking peeks. Emily uncrossed her legs and let them fall apart. The boy got up and moved closer, sitting so he could watch her and the pool at the same time.
My God, she thought, he really is looking under my skirt. The horrible little devil. She opened her legs wider. I wonder how far up he can see. What is he thinking? Could he possibly ... does a boy so young get a hard-on? She stretched and took a different position, making sure her skirt was higher and her legs further apart. Tim moved closer.
He could finally stand it no longer; he had to do something for his aching pecker. He got up and walked over to her. "Uh, Mrs. Foster, could I use your bathroom?" he asked timidly.
"Of course, Tim, but what about the boys in the pool while you're gone?" she said, lowering her sunglasses.
He turned to the pool and shouted, "All right, you guys, out of the pool." There was a lot of grumbling, but they did as they were told. "You can get back in as soon as I get back, I gotta go tinkle." He turned to Emily, a sheepish grin on his face. "Sorry about that, ma'am," he said.
"That's okay, Tim," she said, "I guess boys will be boys. Come on, I'll show you where it is."
Emily leaned forward as she got up, and since she had unbuttoned the top two buttons on her blouse, a great deal of fat, womanly tit came into view. Tim's eyes almost fell out of their sockets.
He followed her through the house and up the stairs, his eyes following every female wiggle of her magnificent ass. Emily came to a stop and pointed to a door. "Right in there, Tim," she said.
He went inside and closed the door. She heard the lock snap and rushed into the adjoining room. Oh, God, I hope the door's open a little, she thought. It was ajar. She pushed it open enough so she could see. In his excitement to get at himself, Tim neither thought nor cared about the possibility of the bathroom having two doors.
Emily swallowed hard and gasped; he already had his trunks down around his knees. His prick was erect, and even then it looked so small. It stuck straight out from his groin. It looks so hard, and yes, so beautiful, so ... she put her hand to her mouth to stifle a sob when he took it between his fingers and started jacking off.
Oh God, she moaned, as the feeling she was so ashamed of, yet wanted so much crept into her pussy.
She gripped the edge of the door tightly to keep her hands from going to her crotch. The hair between her legs filled with moisture and matted against her panties.
Tim jacked off slowly, skillfully, his eyes clamped tightly shut. He imagined it was Mrs. Foster's soft white hands tugging at his excited muscle. He could see her huge breasts, so soft and warm; his lips pursed as though he had a hard, red nipple between them. His legs went rigid as that sweet, wonderful tickle tightened his balls for action.
Emily leaned heavily against the wall and pushed a finger into her mouth. She unconsciously worked the penis substitute in and out. When Tim came, her knees went watery and she was sure she came, too; and without any genital stimulation on her part whatsoever.
Tim let out a moan as his sticky white boy stuff squirted out onto the sink in front of him. He pumped until nothing else came out. "Oh, Christ, that was good," he gasped. "Goddamn, but that was good." He took the hand towel and wiped the end of his prick, then cleaned off the lavatory. He looked quizzically at the towel and hung it back up-neatly.
"Oh, yes, Tim, it was good," Emily moaned under her breath. "Tim, Tim, I want so to touch your little prick, to feel it in my hand, to rub it until you squirt your milky stuff out." Her hand was at the crotch of her panties now. "Oh, Timmy, I want to make you cum in my hand, maybe even ... oh, God, what's come over me?" she cried in anguish.
Emily peeked through the door again. The bathroom was empty, Tim had already gone.
"Oh, Timmy, Timmeee," Emily moaned, "I'm so ashamed of myself." She lifted her hand from her crotch; it was wet and sticky. "Emily Foster, what a depraved, perverted bitch you really are. Your own husband leaves you cold and dry ... yet just watching a young, innocent child masturbate fills your panties with wetness." She groaned and leaned against the wall, realizing she still wanted to feel the little boy's hard cock, to rub over the angry looking little head, to make it spurt its juice. Oh, agony of agony, to make it spurt into her mouth!
She went into her bedroom and took off her soggy panties. She waved them in the air; the sheer material drying quickly. Looking at the soiled garment with distaste, she threw them on the bed and went back downstairs.
When she arrived at the pool the boys were all swimming again, even Tim. He frolicked as if nothing had happened. You're a fool, Emily Foster, she told herself, nothing did happen, not really. All young boys masturbate, you've read it a thousand times. And you did deliberately excite him, opened your legs like a brazen whore. Shame on you, Emily, you're to blame, not him.
Emily sat and watched the boys swim for over an hour. She felt the need for another drink, but controlled the urge. She finally got up and went to the edge of the pool.
"All right, guys," she shouted, "time to get out." The air was filled with groans and vehement protestations. "I've got treats in the kitchen, last one out doesn't get any."
The boys scrambled for dry land. One small tyke, Marty by name, scooped up two handfuls of water and threw them at Emily as he came out. It splattered against the front of her dress.
"You ornery little devil," she yelled, and made a lunge for him.
He jumped back in the water and came up spluttering. "No fair, Mrs. Foster, now I'm the last one out and don't get any treat," he shouted in rage.
"I was only kidding, Marty, you can have some, too," she said, putting her hand out to him. "It is Marty, isn't it?"
He grinned and grabbed her hand and pulled. She almost went into the pool. "You are a little devil," she cried, jerking him from the water.
He was one of the littlest boys there. He was the orneriest too. She had noticed him right from the start. He didn't pay attention at the meeting, always sneaking off to snoop through the house or try to get in the pool ahead of the others. She knew right then that she would have to keep an eye on him. Already, she'd dragged him from her husband's den three times. He was a little doll, though, with great big blue eyes and freckles all over his face.
The boys were ravenous and tore into the cake, ice cream, and assorted pastries she had laid out for them. She fell heavily into a chair in the corner, aghast at the carnage such small boys would wreak. What a mistake to give the servants the day off, she thought. Next time, they stay. And maybe I'll even hire some extras.
The goodies were finally demolished and the cubs trooped out the front door. Tim brought up the rear, and said, "See you next week, Mrs. Foster. You do want me to come again, don't you?" he asked, leering at the heavy tit bulges in her blouse. Tim was interested again.
"Yes, Tim, I certainly do want you to cum again," she answered. The gist of what she had said jelled in her mind. She smiled. Her brain played back the scene in the bathroom. Oh, how I want you to cum again, and you will, you will.
She stood smiling and watched them charge down the walk and up the street before she realized someone was missing. She turned and rushed into the house. "Marty, you little fart, where are you?" she said. She went to the den; he wasn't there. To the kitchen; he wasn't there, either. Angrily, she went upstairs. Not in the bathroom, not in Angie's room, not in ... Good Lord, Marty is in my room. He was sitting on the bed smelling her soiled panties.
Emily marched into the room. "What are you doing, young man?" she cried shrilly.
Marty jumped almost a foot, throwing the panties into the air. His eyes glazed over with tears of fright. "I ... I wasn't doing anything, honest. I was just leaving." He got to his feet and raced for the open door.
Emily grabbed his shirt with one hand and shoved the door shut with the other. Dragging him back to the bed, she picked up the panties from the floor and roughly pushed him down. He was shaking violently, tears pouring from his eyes.
She held the panties up before his eyes; the stain in the crotch plainly visible. "Were you smelling my panties?" she asked, her voice cold and hard.
"No, no. Honest, I just picked them up to see what they were." He was half crying.
"Don't lie to me, young man. Now, what were you doing with my panties? If you lie to me I'll tell your mother."
"Oooooh, no, no, don't tell my mother," he sobbed.
"Tell me the truth and I won't tell your mother." "Honest? You promise you won't tell?"
"Yes, I promise. Now what were you doing with my panties?"
He looked down, his sobbing stopped now. "I was rubbing them in my face, and ... and smelling them."
"Marty, what a terrible thing for such a young boy to be doing. Why, you must be only nine."
"I'm ten," he said defensively, looking up.
"Only ten, and doing that," Emily said. "Marty, why did you do it?"
"I ... I like the smell. It makes me excited," he blurted out.
Emily was taken aback. She felt her face flush. "You like the smell. Why? What do you mean, it excites you?"
Marty looked down at his feet again. "You know what I mean, Mrs. Foster. You're a grownup."
"No, I don't know what you mean. Explain it to me," she persisted.
"Aw, you do too. It ... it makes me hard. Down there." He pointed at his crotch, his face still tilted down.
Emily's breath caught in her throat. She had known all the time, had just wanted to hear him say it. "Marty," she said, putting her hand on his knee, "do you smell your mother's panties?"
"Yes."
"Very often?"
"Every chance I get. I love the smell, Mrs. Foster." Marty was only ten, but he was wise beyond his years. He knew she was very interested.
"You have an older sister, don't you, Marty?"
Marty perked up. "Yes, and she's beautiful, too."
"Do you smell her panties, too?"
"I sure do. She lets me smell them. She'd rub them around between her legs and lay them across my face." He kicked at the rug and slammed a little fist into the bed. "But she went away to college. I sure miss her."
"She rubbed them around between her legs and let you smell them?" Emily asked with surprise. She couldn't help herself; she was getting excited. Her hand rubbed softly up and down his thigh.
"Yes, all the time. She smelled so good. We really love each other," he added proudly.
"What else did you do with your sister?"
"Oh, nothing much."
"What else?" Emily demanded. Her hand slid up to his crotch.
In spite of his recent fear, his hammering heart, Marty's little pecker was hard. He knew he wasn't in trouble any more. He wondered how far she would go; his heart pounded with excitement.
"We slept together a whole lot, but we didn't do anything bad," he said, watching her hand rub the front of his trousers.
The little bastard has a hard-on, she thought, I can feel it. The blood pounded in her temple with an urgency that she had never before experienced.
"What, what did you do?" she demanded.
"That feels good, what you're doing, Mrs. Foster," he said, squirming a little. "We slept without any clothes on, and we'd snuggle up real close. It made my thing get so hard."
"Yes, yes, go on," Emily gasped.
"And ... and Marta would get all excited too and crawl under the covers." He waited a moment for effect. "And then she'd take my little dingy in her mouth."
"Oh God, oh Lord," Emily croaked, grabbing at his hard little cock. "She, she did that?"
"Yes. And then she'd suck on it until it felt real good. Oh goddamn sonofabitch, it felt good," he said, hunching up against her hand.
"Marty, Marty ... let me take off your pants."
"Okay," he said.
Emily fumbled wildly at his belt buckle and zipper. She got it undone and pulled his pants down his legs. They wouldn't go over his shoes. She jerked off his shoes and threw them across the room. She pulled his pants off. He wasn't wearing underwear, and his little cock stood straight out, hard as a rock. It was tiny, almost the size of her finger, and oh, so very, very hard.
"Oh, Marty, it's beautiful, just beautiful," she gurgled, her mouth filling with saliva in anticipation.
She grasped it in her hand. He was circumcised and the head was all pink, the hole in its end gaping open.
"Oh, Marty, Marty. Tell me, what did you do to her, for sucking your, your cock? Marty, can I kiss it?"
"Sure you can," he answered confidently. "You can suck on it if you want." He leaned back on his elbows. "Marta, that's my beautiful sister, would lay back on the bed and spread her legs open, I mean wide open, and with the light on and everything. And then I would kiss her right on her cunt."
"OH, NO! NO!" Emily wailed, shoving her mouth down over his standing penis. Her eyes filled with tears when she felt the whole throbbing little monster inside her mouth. Her cunt was on fire; she had never been so hot before.
"Marta would squeal and jerk all over because I'd stick my nose up her thing," he continued. "And I'd lick it all over and push my tongue way up inside.
She'd get all wet, and not just from my spit, no sir. It made her happy and she'd leak all that good sticky stuff and I'd lick it all off with my tongue but more would come. You do that awful good, Mrs. Foster."
Emily raised up for a second. "Call me Emily, darling," she said, and returned to her labor of love.
"Okay, Emily. Gee, that feels good, Emily," he said savoring her name. "It's gonna feel real, real good in a minute, I can tell."
"Not yet, not yet, Marty," she mumbled incoherently. "I'm going to cum, too."
The little boy went rigid and pushed his little dick eagerly in and out of her mouth. Emily didn't feel any jazz, but knew something came out; it tasted salty and nice. Then her own body exploded and she grabbed him by the bare hips and sucked for dear life. She had never experienced such an orgasm. It was wonderful.
"Oh goddamn, Mrs.-Emily ... it's good, it's good. OH, SHIT!" he cried and fell back on the bed.
Emily felt good, too. She went limp and slumped against his legs, making sure she kept his little pecker in her mouth. She laved it with her tongue and lips and slipped her hand under his taut little balls. Wonderful, wonderful, she thought. She let his cock go and turned her head up to him. With her fingers, she rested his soft prick against her cheek.
"Tell me more, Marty, did you ever put your thing in hers?"
"You mean fuck her? I sure did."
"Did you like it?"
"like it? I loved it. That's what a guy has a cock for, to stick in a girl's cunt," he said knowingly.
"Would you like to fuck me, Marty?" Her timidity was gone.
"Boy, I'll say, only not today, I don't feel like it now. Besides, I gotta be gettin' home before mom starts worrying."
"Will you go home and smell your mother's panties?"
"Probably not, she doesn't leave 'em around too much. If I can, I sneak 'em out of the dirty clothes, only I don't get a chance too often. She washes too damn quick."
"Will you come early next week? I'll let you fuck me if you do."
"I sure will, Emily, but I gotta be gettin' now." He jumped up and started putting on his pants.
Emily got up and sat on the edge of the bed, her body still tingling. She picked up her panties and smelled the crotch. It seemed unpleasant to her.
"Marty, would you like to take my panties home with you? You could smell them when you go to bed and jack off."
"Boy, would I. You're really cool, Emily."
Emily lifted her skirt and wiped at her soaking cunt with the dainty undergarment.
"Wow!" Marty said, his eyes bulging. "Look at all the hair. Boy, Marta doesn't have that much hair. And look at me, I ain't got any."
"I like it that way, honey," she said, rubbing deeply into the lips of her cunt. "Haven't you ever seen your mother?"
"Nah, she always closes the door and pulls down the shades when she gets naked. She ain't good looking like you, anyway."
Emily withdrew her panties and tossed them to Marty. "How do these smell?" she asked.
"Jesus Christ, that's great. Boy, are they ever strong," Marty said, shoving them against his face.
"Look at me, Marty," Emily said, lifting her skirt up to her hips.
"Jeepers, you're beautiful, Emily. Even more than Marta."
"Would you like to see my breasts?"
Before he could answer, she had unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off. She undid her bra and let it slip slowly down. She stood up and let her skirt fall to the floor. She was completely naked.
"Damn, damn, I wish I didn't have to get home," the little boy said, his cock twitching in his pants.
"I wish you didn't, too, Marty. We could have such fun."
Marty wanted to fuck her. "Shit, mom will kill me." He reached inside his pants and took his prick out. It was half hard again.
Emily wanted it, wanted it terribly, but she knew better. "No, Marty, you go home now. I don't want you to get into trouble. Come real early next week and well do all kinds of things. Now put your big beautiful prick back in your pants and get out of here."
Marty groaned in protest, but knew that she meant it. He stuffed his dick back and zipped up.
"Kiss me good-bye and then get the hell out of here," she said. She bent her knees and pushed her mound out to him. "I mean here, darling."
Marty dropped to his knees in front of her and pushed his face into her hairy snatch. She thought she would die, it felt so good. She grabbed his head and pressed his face tighter. "God, you'll make me cum again," she moaned. Then she regained control of herself and pushed him away. "Get out of here," she cried.
When he got to his feet, she grabbed him and kissed him on the mouth, using her tongue liberally. She could taste her cunt on his lips and even that was good.
"I'll see you next week," she said, pushing him toward the door.
Marty looked at her longingly and shoved her precious panties into his pocket. He left grumbling.
The second that Marty was gone, she flopped back on the bed and jammed her finger into her cunt. Within a minute she was writhing and groaning, her finger working wildly at her twat. When she finally came, it was exquisite, not as good as when she had Marty's cock in her mouth, but fantastically wonderful just the same. She wished she could remain in that state forever.
She made a mental note to be sure the servants were off next week, after all. And the two following weeks, also. She lay in ecstasy, wishing that Norma would never come back and reclaim her troop. Maybe she could get her own.
Emily finally got up and dressed. Since the servants were off, she would have to get supper for Mack and Angie. She had no more than gotten to the kitchen when Mack called. He said he would be late, and not to wait supper for him. Said he had a board meeting and it could be pretty late. "Okay, darling, see you when you get here," she said dryly, and hung up.
"Board meeting, my ass," she said aloud. "You probably have some little floozie lined up to suck your big, ugly cock. And through a pair of women's panties to boot. Well, at least I won't have to fix the sonofabitch any supper."
Angie rushed in a little later and gave her mom a peck on the cheek. "Don't worry about me for supper, mom," she said. "I have a date with a groovy new guy. He's taking me out for supper. I'll just run up and get ready."
Emily sat in a chair as Angie rushed out. "Yeah, you little snip," Emily said with disgust. "Another cock for your collection, and I'll bet you've had plenty. Only fifteen years old, and I'll bet you've been fucked more than I have ... and enjoyed every minute of it."
Angie was long gone and didn't hear a word her mother said.
Emily sat alone in the house that night and got tight. She mixed herself several highballs before taking the bottle and going to her room. She stripped herself naked and lay on the bed smoking, drinking Scotch from the bottle, and fingering her clit.
Mack didn't come home at all, but for the first time since her marriage, she really didn't give a damn. She finally passed out, but only after several good cums.
CHAPTER FOUR
Emily's face flushed pink as she powdered and perfumed her naked body before stepping into her daintiest panties. She couldn't help feeling guilty that she would soon be having sexual relations with a ten-year-old boy. The past week had been one of misery and torment, yet she knew that when Marty arrived she would say to hell with the guilt. She couldn't help herself, she wanted his sweet-tasting little cock more than anything in the whole world.
She pulled the lace-covered panties into place and slipped on a sheer negligee. Her cherry-like nipples looked ripe and succulent through the filmy gauze. The dark, heavy patch of pubic hair was visible through both panties and robe. Satisfied with her attire, she went downstairs and mixed herself a strong Scotch and water, her third since noon. Her heart went to her mouth when the doorbell chimed. Finishing her drink, she went quickly to the door.
"Come in, Marty darling," she said, swinging the door wide.
The young boy gasped and stepped inside.
This was what she had been waiting for. She couldn't wait any longer, she threw her robe open and stood with her legs apart. "You like to smell women's panties, Marty, smell these," she said, her voice husky and soft.
"You're so beautiful, Emily," the small boy said, dropping to his knees before her.
Emily took his sandy-haired head in her hands and pulled his face into her crotch. She could feel his nose pressed against her clit and his hot breath coming through her already wet panties. She knew that the easiest thing she could do at this moment was faint from the pleasure. She let him nuzzle and sniff between her legs for several minutes and then pulled him to his feet.
"Let's go up to my room, Marty. I want you, I want you so."
"I want you, too," Marty said, his nostrils filled with the strong smell of her juicy cunt.
She led him up the long stairway. Once inside the bedroom she turned and started unbuttoning his shirt. "Take off your clothes; I want to see all of you."
"Okay, if you will, too," he answered, kicking off his sneakers.
Emily's robe floated to the floor while she watched him pull off his shirt. As he fumbled with his fly, she pushed her panties down over her thighs. Marty wet his lips and followed suit. His pencil prick stood straight out from his smooth, boyish body. It throbbed in mid-air as if someone were jerking it with an invisible cord.
"Oh, Marty, Marty," she cried, taking him in her arms and crushing his face between her breasts. "Rub it between my legs, honey. I want to feel it against me.
She had lifted him completely off the floor and his feet dangled in the air. His thrusting cock pressed into her forest just below her belly-button. "Marty, I want you to fuck me," she murmured, falling back on the bed with him on top of her. She spread her legs wide. "Put it in, darling, put that sweet prick in. Can you find the hole?"
"Sure I can," Marty boasted, as he worked his bulging little cockhead into position and probed at the mass of dark hair between her legs.
"Hurry, damn it, hurry," she hissed.
"I can't seem to get it started."
"Here, let momma help you."
Emily's hand flew to his crotch and grabbed his hairless twitching pecker. She nuzzled it into the wet hair and pushed the shiny head into her hole. Once it was in, she grasped the cheeks of his ass and pulled, shoving his tiny cock all the way inside her slippery cunt.
"Now fuck me, Marty, fuck me like you do your sister."
"like this, Emily? Am I doing it right?" "Yes, yes. Only faster, you darling boy," she gasped.
He worked hard against her inflamed crotch. "I'll cum real quick if I go any faster," he said. "I'm almost there now."
Marty tensed and started cumming. Nothing came out, but he felt it down to the tips of his toes. He groaned and fell limp on her soft belly.
"Oh, Jesus, that was good, Emily," he said, gasping for breath.
Emily lay gurgling with contentment; her eyes were glazed, her cunt twitched around his softening penis. She was in heaven and she wanted to stay there. When Marty started to get up she pushed him onto his back on the bed beside her.
"Will it get hard again if I suck it?" she asked.
"I doubt it," he answered, "it hardly ever did for Marta."
"It has to, it has to," she cried, dropping her face to his sweaty crotch. It tasted pungent; it was the taste of her own cunt, but she didn't mind. It didn't get hard, though.
"It's no use, Emily," Marty said with a sigh.
"Goddamn it," she said, sitting up.
Marty hustled into his clothes while Emily sat forlornly on the edge of the bed. Dressed and satisfied, he turned to her and said, "I'll go down and wait for the other guys to get here."
She looked up at him and thought, you worthless little bastard. "Don't you dare tell any of the other cubs," she said curtly.
"I won't, I promise," he shouted as he ran out the door.
"I want more," she whined hopelessly, and poured a glass full of Scotch from the decanter beside the bed.
She swirled the amber liquid, took a mouthful, and fingered the lips of her sopping cunt. "Goddamn it,' she said, and finished the Scotch. Her head felt light and giddy. She knew she was drinking too much and reached for the decanter. The sound of youthful voices brought her back to reality.
Emily got up and wiped between her legs with the frilly negligee. Throwing it on the bed, she went to her clothes closet. When Emily came down the stairs her face was made up, her hair was brushed. She had on a pair of Angie's white shorts and a slip-over blouse and that was all.
Tim saw her first. He started at her bare feet and worked his way up. At the point where her heavy tits bounced freely, he stopped and swallowed hard. His cock thrust hard against his Levi's. Emily noticed the hump and smiled.
She went to the bar and poured a generous amount of giggle water over two ice cubes. She was already pleasantly drunk and didn't hide her booze in a tea cup this time.
"I don't feel like having a meeting today," she shouted to the boys, "why don't you just spend the afternoon in the pool." She wanted to add in the nude, but she wasn't quite that drunk.
With a whoop they trooped through the French doors. Most of them had their suits on under their clothes; those who didn't went behind the bushes. Emily went to her lounge near the pool and fell heavily on her back, carefully spreading her legs.
Angie's shorts were too small for Emily and pulled snugly up into her crack. They were terribly short and her pubic hair protruded in all sorts of places. She plopped the dark glasses across the bridge of her nose and sipped at her Scotch, carefully watching Tim swing into position to look at her plump thighs with the dark hair showing where they disappeared into her shorts. She glowed inside every time he tried to rearrange his long hard cock inside his tight trunks.
She was planning how she would get Tim in her bed when one of the boys screamed out in pain.
Jumping up, she ran to the pool where Herman, the only black boy in the pack, sat in a crouch holding his knee.
"What happened?" Emily asked, kneeling beside the boy.
"He was try in' to catch me and slipped," one of the boys said. "Is he hurt bad, Mrs. Foster?"
"I don't know," she said. Then, turning to Tim, "Tim, you shouldn't let the boys run, you know it's slick around a swimming pool."
Tim hung his head. "I'm sorry. I guess I wasn't watching close enough."
You sure weren't, she thought. You were too busy trying to see my cunt. Her head had cleared remarkably. "Let's take a look at Herman's knee." She pried the weeping boy's hands from his knee.
"Can you bend it, Herman? Here, let me help you." She took his leg and straightened it out. The boy winced, then grinned sheepishly through his tears. "It's just a little cut, we can fix that up in the kitchen. Come with me, Herman."
She took him by the hand and lifted him up, almost falling herself. Once standing, her clear head disappeared. God, I shouldn't have drunk so much, she thought. I'm drunker than a skunk.
"I'll put a bandage on it, honey," she said, holding out her hand. "Come on now!" The boy obediently took her hand. She turned to Tim. "Now watch these kids closer, damn it."
Tim hung his head as she whirled around and led Herman across the grass to the house. She weaved perceptibly, but got to the kitchen without falling. Taking him directly to the lavatory off the kitchen, she pushed him inside and stepped in beside him. Only her booze-fogged brain knew why she pushed the door shut with her rump.
Emily took a damp cloth and kneeled before the boy. Dabbing at his knee, she looked up at the trembling boy. He had stopped crying, but his cheeks had long streaks where the tears had run down. He really was rather attractive, for a black boy. His body was stocky and hard muscled for one so young, and it was so black it glistened. And he looked so sweet and forlorn looking down at her.
"Do you want momma to kiss it and make it well?" she cooed.
"Aw cut it out, that's for kids. I'm okay now," Herman said.
Emily felt an irresistible urge take control of her. "It's not for kids the way I do it," she said, and pulled down his wet trunks with a jerk.
She could hardly see his cock because it was all shriveled up from being in the water, like it was trying to crawl inside to get out of the wet. Emily reached up with her hand and her magic fingers brought the little rascal creeping back out. It was short and stubby, but bigger around than Marty's or Tim's.
Herman's eyes bugged out, but he said nothing.
She masturbated him slowly. It was very black, much more so than the rest of him. The glossy head came out shining and purple. Emily swallowed hard.
"Herman, it's, it's gorgeous. May I kiss it?" she cried.
Still Herman said nothing. He stood rigid, blinking his eyes.
Emily bent down and ,kissed it feverishly on the end. It grew very hard. With a little gasp she closed her mouth around it and started sucking.
"Ummmm! Do it good, white lady," he said, grabbing her by the hair. "I can't shoot any of that pearly cream like my big brother does, but. . . OHHH, white lady, suuuuck!"
Emily could feel sweat all over her forehead. His little black cock tasted so good. She wanted that pearly cream; oh, how she wanted him to be able to shoot that pearly cream like his big brother. She wrapped her arms around his hips and gripped his ass in her hands. He was pumping into her now and she pressed her face against him as hard as she could. The wiry little hairs sprouting around his cock cut into her lips.
Herman came with a low moan and he did shoot a little of that pearly cream like his big brother. It was the first time he had ever had an emission and it wasn't much, but Emily could taste it on her tongue. Her body throbbed with excitement as Herman went limp in her arms.
She let him come to rest on the floor on his back and started kissing and sucking all around his pubic area. "Did it feel good, honey?" she asked, just before she took his balls inside her mouth.
"It sure did, Mrs. Foster, but I can't take any more right now," he answered, trying to get out from under her urgent mouth.
Emily had already learned one thing; that when her baby studs said they didn't want any more, they didn't. He was probably thinking about the swimming pool and his buddies having their good clean fun. She raised up and let him squirm free. "Go on then," she muttered. The boy jumped up and pulled his trunks back on.
"That was good, Mrs. Foster," he said. "Maybe we could do it again next meeting, huh?"
"Okay, if you want to." Her head was spinning like atop now. "Don't tell any of the other boys."
"I won't. See you later," he shouted over his shoulder.
Emily sat on the floor in the toilet for a long time. She just didn't give a shit any more. Slipping a finger inside her shorts, she played with her cunt; that didn't do anything for her either. She finally got to her feet and went into the kitchen where she found a pack of cigarettes and lit one. She felt giddy and happy from the Scotch, yet disgusted with herself. She went back outside and walked unsteadily to the pool.
"Tim, come here a minute," she called. She looked at her half-filled glass beside the lounge and picked it up and killed it. "Tim, I'm not feeling too good. Can you finish up?"
"Sure I can, Mrs. Foster," he answered. Tim knew she was stoned; he wanted to grab her and play with her big, fat tits.
"I think I'll go up and lie down for a bit. There's a couple of cases of pop and lots of goodies in the kitchen. Let them stuff their stupid little bellies and then get them the hell out of here. Okay?"
"Swell. I hope you get feeling better, and don't worry, I can handle it," Tim said. You drunk old pig, he thought.
"When they're all gone, come and tell me. You're cute, honey," she said, and staggered back into the house.
Tim wasn't sure what to make of it all, but he knew what he would like to make of it. Boy, I'll bet she has a juicy cunt, he thought. I'd sure like to slam this stiff ole dick of mine all the way inside her. He rubbed his crotch in anticipation.
"All right, you little turds, time's up. Get the fuck out of the pool, we got fuckin' treats inside."
The little turds piled out of the pool and streamed for the kitchen. When they were all gone, Tim went over to the pool and pulled down his trunks and just for the hell of it, he pissed a strong yellow stream into the pool. "If you don't like that, big tits Foster, I'll shove it up your nice round ass," he chuckled.
Emily lay on the bed drinking. When Tim came into the room, he looked all fuzzy. She was all spread out, her legs wide open.
"Uh, they're all gone, Mrs. Foster," Tim said.
"Good," she said, taking a deep drag on her cigarette.
"They made an awful mess in the kitchen." "That's okay, I don't give a shit. I'm drunk, Tim." "Yeah, I know it," he said timidly. "Come over closer, Timmy, so I can see you better."
The boy came over to the bed and stared at her all spread-eagled. "You sure are sexy, Mrs. Foster," he said.
"Do you have a hard-on, Tim? Don't look so shocked, honey, I watched you beat your meat in the bathroom last week."
"Huh? Oh, gosh I..." the boy stammered.
"That's okay, baby, I don't care. Crawl up here on the bed and kiss me."
Tim stood dumbfounded, his cock already hard from looking at her.
"Don't you want to?"
"Sure I do, I just didn't know if you meant it."
"You just climb up here and I'll show you if I mean it or not. And if you do a good job, I'll let you take off my shorts."
Tim climbed eagerly onto the bed and Emily pulled him down on top of her. She wrapped her legs around him and rolled her tongue into his mouth. They dry fucked for several minutes before Emily pulled her mouth free. "Take off my shorts, lover, take off my shorts," she moaned.
"With pleasure, you red hot bitch," he cried.
"Watch who you're calling a bitch, you dirty minded little bastard," she said, raising up her ass so he could tug down her too-tight shorts.
"Oh, Jesus, oh, shit, sonofabitch!" he cried. "This is gonna be some fun." He had her shorts down to her knees. "Can I fuck you?"
"Not unless you ask me nicely," Emily said coyly.
"Please, Mrs. Foster, may I fuck you?" he said.
"Hell yes. Now get those swimming trunks off."
Tim jumped up and pulled them down with a jerk. His rock hard pecker leaped out like a caged tiger.
"Tim, it's beautiful. Come over here so I can feel it."
Tim stepped up proudly and stuck his throbbing dong onto the edge of the bed. It was bigger than either Marty's or Herman's. It was still small, though, and gorgeous in Emily's eyes. She slid her hand under the hot flesh and let it rest in her palm; then she closed her fingers tightly. Tim groaned as she slowly jacked him off; he closed his eyes when she lowered her head and blew her hot breath softly over the head.
"If you keep that up, Mrs. Foster, I'll sure as hell cum all over your hand," Tim said.
Emily's eyes lit up. "Do you shoot that ... that creamy stuff out when you cum?"
"I sure as hell do, and plenty of it, too," he bragged.
Her mind reeled. "Oh, God," she mumbled, as she clamped her lips around his cock. She loved the taste now, adored it, needed it, wanted it. Her saliva ran freely as she mouthed his organ; her cunt grew hot and wet. She wanted him to cum in her mouth, but she knew if he did that it would be all over and she wanted his dick in her cunt, too. She raised up.
"Get up on the bed, Tim, and lay on your back. I'm going to fuck you." She seemed to revel in these words of filth, words that would have shocked her beyond belief only a few short weeks ago.
Emily knew she was drunk, and she was glad. Emily knew she was on fire with lust, and she was glad. She straddled her boy scout and pushed his small, hot cock into her cunt. Slowly, she lowered her hips until it was in to the hilt. She raised and lowered herself slowly, savoring each stroke of his precious cock. It was larger than the other boy's, and she enjoyed the increased size, minute as it was.
"Oh, Tim, darling, it feels wonderful. Tell me when you get close and I'll stop for a bit," Emily moaned.
"I'm close," Tim said.
Emily stopped. She let her weight down and sat motionless, Tim's small but mighty charger buried completely. She continued this way for some time, always stopping before he came. She hadn't reached orgasm herself, hanging on that wonderful precipice just before you cum which is really almost as good as toppling over the edge and certainly more lasting. Sensing that she couldn't hold him off any longer, she pulled herself free.
"God, Mrs. Foster, I can't stop," Tim cried.
She got her face down to his machine just as the first spurt leaped out. It caught her on the bridge of her nose. The rest was not so foolishly wasted; she had his spurting dick imprisoned in her mouth and sucked his dew until she had it all, then she swallowed. It didn't have much taste, but it was slimy, hot and exciting. She relished the first male charge in her mouth.
"That was really good, you old whore," Tim said, swinging his feet to the floor.
Emily dropped limply to the bed, horrified. "Timmy, don't talk like that. I'm still hot, honey. Will you kiss my pussy and make me cum?"
"Are you kidding? Boy, some of you old broads are really screwy," he said, tugging up his pants.
"Have you had many other old broads, Tim?"
"Hell yes, lots of them." He lied. Tim had never been laid before. Fifteen minutes ago he had been a virgin.
"That's good," she said, "because you'll never get another chance at this old broad, now get out and never come back."
Tim's self confidence drained away. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Foster, I didn't really mean it, I was just showing off," he whined.
"That's your tough luck, sonny. Now get the hell out of here, you dirty little sonofabitch." She raised up menacingly and the boy fled, leaving his shirt behind.
Emily tugged Angie's blouse over her head and threw it angrily to the floor. Holding her throbbing head, she fell back on the bed. She wanted to stick her foot out and stop the bed from spinning, but she knew if she so much as moved a muscle she would get sick.
An hour later, Angie found her lying naked on the bed. She stared at her voluptuous mother and entered the room.
"What's the matter, Mom? How come you don't have any clothes on?" Angie asked.
Emily stirred, but didn't answer.
Angie saw Tim's shirt and picked it up. "What's this? What's been going on here, Mom?"
Emily opened her eyes, they were glazed. "Who there? Tha' you Ang ... drunk, I'm terrible drunk," she slurred.
"That's obvious," Angie said.
Angie went and got a blanket and covered her mother.
"Wow!" she said, "I wonder what the heir went on here. The kitchen is a shambles, Mom is naked and blasted out of her mind, and I find a boy's shirt on the floor. Maybe I ought to stay home some afternoon and watch." She didn't notice her own shorts and blouse on the floor on the other side of the bed.
Mack came home several hours later. "Where's Em?" he asked, thumbing through the day's mail. "She's upstairs. Passed out," Angie answered. "What did you say?"
"Mom got bombed this afternoon and she's upstairs sleeping it off," Angie said calmly, dropping her eyes back to her movie magazine.
"I don't believe it," Mack shouted, "and get your nose out of that goddamn magazine when I'm talking to you."
"Go see for yourself," Angie said, still reading her magazine.
"Christ," he bellowed, taking the steps two at a time.
When he came close to the bed he knew that Angie was telling the truth; Emily smelled like a brewery. He turned her head up to his and then let it go. It flopped back into the pillow.
"Boy, she's out like a light," he muttered.
He noticed her bare shoulders and lifted the cover. She was lying on her side facing away from him and as her bare back came into view he jerked the covers all the way back. "What the hell?" he said.
Mack looked at her smooth, round ass. She had her knees drawn up and it stuck out invitingly. He rubbed his crotch and toyed with the idea of shoving his cock up her bunghole. Unzipping, he pulled out his huge tool and rubbed it between her big, tender buns. Emily didn't move.
Mack decided it was a good time to go exploring. She would never let him do what he wanted when she was conscious, so why not now? He rolled her over on her back and pushed her legs wide apart. The mass of hair was thick and dark and soft, like velvet. "God, what a gorgeous cunt," he said, manipulating his pole with his hand. "Why do you have to be such a cold ass?"
Mack had always wanted to eat her, and he was sure that this would be his only chance. With his fingers he opened the velvety lips and lowered his face. The smell of sex was strong and pungent; he breathed deeply and plunged his face in. Emily moaned and pushed against him.
Mack felt her hands press against the back of his head. He lifted up to see if she was awakening. She was still out cold, but her hands clawed in his hair to get him back in place and a broad, happy smile wreathed her face.
"Jesus, I think I'll keep you stoned all the time," he said, and jammed his tongue deep inside her slit.
He pulled furiously at his cock with one hand while the other was under her soft butt, his index already imbedded to the first knuckle in her ass-hole. She held his face tightly against her sopping crotch and pushed down hard on his intruding finger.
Mack came with a pig-like grunt and squirted his juice onto her leg. It ran down over her knee and dripped on the bed.
Emily came with a soft moan, the orgasm she had missed with Tim oozing through her body like a warm liquid. She held his face to her cunt.
Mack raised up and hobbled on his knees to her head. He took his dripping cock and rubbed it across her smiling lips. She involuntarily opened her mouth and the sticky head slipped inside. He pushed it in and out until his balls were dry.
"Christ on a crutch, I wish you'd do that when you're awake," Mack said.
Angie stood in the open door and watched. "Jesus, what a couple of perverts," she said, two of her fingers already deep in her cunt.
CHAPTER FIVE
Emily was suffering the pangs of regret. Tim had come by to pick up his shirt and beg her forgiveness, resorting even to a show of crocodile tears. She treated the boy coldly at first, what with her terrible hangover, but she weakened and told him she would give him one more chance to act a gentleman and try him as lifeguard at one more meeting. She wasn't in the mood for any nonsense now, even though the thought did cross her mind.
She was genuinely worried about herself now, having become so preoccupied with sex that she was even having erotic dreams. One was vivid in her mind. Some man with a long, course tongue had lapped between her legs and it was so real that she had actually had an orgasm in her sleep. And if that wasn't enough, her dream man had finished by sticking his sticky, jazz-covered cock in her mouth and she had sucked it clean. She couldn't recall who the man was, but he had such a huge penis that her jaw actually hurt the next morning. She needed a change of pace, something to get her mind off sex.
Emily had read somewhere that a person could work off their sexual energies with other activities, particularly ones of an athletic nature, so she decided on a course of action to nullify her newly found sexuality. Ruth Devonshire, a close friend, lived on an estate at the edge of town and kept a stable of fine horses. She would go horseback riding, get some needed fresh air and burn up her energy in the process. She made arrangements for an early ride the morning of her next pack meeting.
Emily rolled out of bed at 5:30 a.m. and dressed quietly. She slipped on her riding pants and pulled the snug-fitting boots into place. The weather had been very hot so she didn't wear a jacket; she didn't wear a bra, either. Some girls breasts are sensitive and it hurts to let them hang free, but Emily had discovered that she enjoyed letting her bulbous boobs bounce, it gave her a warm, sensual feeling. She didn't consider for one moment that she might be defeating her own purpose.
She slipped out of the house into the brisk morning air and climbed into her two-seater Mercedes. It was a hot little job with four-on-the-floor and she roared across town at seventy and eighty miles an hour. She never got out of third gear.
Ruth greeted her as she climbed from the car. She was a beautiful woman, several years older than
Emily, with large, puffy breasts and a more than ample rump. Too many, hers was a matronly look, but upon close inspection, the middle-aged woman was still sexy as hell and her body was surprisingly firm in spite of its abundance.
"I'm so glad you called, Emily. I don't know why we neglect one another so abominably. It's been ages since we last got together," Ruth said in her gushy, condescending manner.
"I've been meaning to call for some time," Emily said, almost wishing she hadn't come.
"Come along while I slip into my habit," Ruth said, leading her into the palatial home.
As they went up the long circular staircase, Ruth glanced at Emily's bobbing tits and said, "My, you bounce beautifully. I wish I could get away with going braless, but I'm afraid my milk bags hang down to my belly button without support."
Emily blushed. She wondered how a woman with so much money, so much social prestige could be so vulgar. And it wasn't just now; she was always like that. Her husband, Cliff, was a multi-millionaire with business and property holding all over the country. Ruth was queen bee, not only in the local hive, but in the entire state.
As soon as they entered the bedroom Ruth shucked out of her expensive blouse. God, her tits were massive, and it was obvious her bra was tailor made. It was peek-a-boo, her large brown nipples poking out like buttons on a doorman's vest. Her skirt and slip tumbled to the floor and she left them in a heap. She had a fine butt, too; a bit oversized, but round and smooth. Emily noted that she was wearing the rag; there was no mistaking the white bulge in her panties. The best of them can't get out of that affliction, Emily thought with a smile.
"I'm glad you came out today, Em," Ruth said, popping her mountainous bosom into a see-through blouse. "Clifford is gone so much of the time and Rhonda has gone to Europe with a bunch of her snooty friends." Rhonda, their twenty-year-old daughter was a replica of her mother twenty years earlier.
Emily and Ruth had a couple of brandies and finally made their way to the stables. Just inside the door, Emily stopped short, her eyes round and filled with fright. Walking toward them leading two horses was the most grotesque creature she had ever seen. He was a misshapen hunchback dwarf, with short fat legs, an unsightly, gnarled hump on his back, and a fat-lipped face so slobberingly ugly that it made her sick. Ruth noticed her fright.
"Don't mind Hunchy, darling, he's really a dear. He minds the horses beautifully and keeps to himself," Ruth said, snuffing her cigarette out with her foot. "And he has an absolutely brilliant mind. His only problem in his appearance. It makes him a misfit anywhere he goes. Clifford swears by him."
"Mornin', miz, horses iz ready," he said. His tongue lolled out uncontrollably when he spoke, slurring his speech.
Emily shrank back in horror, but Ruth reached and patted his cheek. "Thank you, Hunchy, you're a darling," Ruth said as she took the reins from his hand. "Come along, Emily dear. I feel like a brisk pace this morning."
Once in the saddle, Emily turned to Ruth and said, "Why do you keep such a horrible-looking creature around? "
"One gets used to him, and as I said, darling, the man has to have some place to be," she answered in her superior manner. She jabbed her horse in the flanks with her heels.
Emily didn't know it, but before the morning ended she was to find out why Ruth Devonshire kept the hunchback around.
By 10:30 Emily was exhausted and ready to quit for the day. Ruth told her to go in and she would follow shortly, she was feeling good and wanted to do some jumping. And all this in the middle of her monthly.
Emily dismounted in front of the stable, hesitating at the huge open door. What if that awful little man is in there? she thought. She wanted to leave the horse where it stood and run for her car, but she knew this would be improper, the horse might run off.
She entered the barn stealthily; it was quiet and serene. Leading her horse, she walked slowly down the narrow passageway lined with stalls on both sides. About halfway back she heard a noise and stopped, her heart pounding wildly. She looked into the nearest stall and there stood the miss-proportioned freak. He had his back to her and his baggy little trousers were down around his ankles. His ass was covered with hair and pimples. Emily leaped back out of sight and leaned weakly against the stall.
Her mind reeled with thoughts. What's he doing standing there with his pants down? Going to the toilet? Well, perhaps out here in the barn he goes wherever he wants to. Her morbid curiosity overcame her fear and she peeked around the corner. She almost screamed out; he had turned so she could see his monstrous prick hanging like a huge sausage.
Hunchy's cock was half hard and it was massive beyond belief. He grasped it in one of his fat hands and started jacking off. It swelled like a balloon under a pressure pump. His thick legs were very short and his banana hung almost to the ground, easily a foot long. The gruesome monster continued pulling at his meat and finally pulled the foreskin completely off the knob. The unsheathed head looked like a ripe delicious apple. Emily's eyes bulged at the sockets as she watched the dwarf jerk on his cock. It seemed to grow larger with each stroke. She felt like she was going to choke, still she stood, her eyes riveted to the inhuman shaft of a cock.
Hunchy was too intent on what he was doing to notice any idle watchers. He picked up a heavy stool and dragged it behind the huge bay mare in the stall with him. His cock all but dragged on the ground. He stepped up on the stool behind the mare and took his shaft in both hands.
"Haven' done this to you inna long time, have I, Lady," he said, lifting her tail and putting the tip of his cock to her hole. "Haven' had to, but have to today, 'm hard up. Miz Ruth had rag on for three days now."
Emily put her hand to her mouth to keep from crying out. Does Ruth ... could she possibly allow this, this repulsive creature to ... to? No, it wasn't possible. She felt like fainting, but she had to watch, to see if he actually fucked a horse.
"Hoi" still," Hunchy cried, slapping the nervous mare on her flank. "There, baby, doesn' that feel good? I knowed ya was in heat, else I wouldn' do this."
His cock was already buried inside the horse. He started stroking and groaning. "Jesus, tha' feels good. Jus' hoi' still a bit, Lady, I'll cum quick."
Emily couldn't believe what she was seeing. Things like this just didn't happen, it wasn't possible. She had to continue watching, though, had to see him pull it out. It was like a fever in her mind, but she had to see his huge, beautiful ... no, not beautiful. . .ghastly, see his ghastly penis again. Oh, God, Ruth, you can't have taken it, it would kill you, it's like a ball bat.
"Gonna cum, gonna cum," Hunchy cried. "Make you a little half man, half horse." He groaned and drove his dick wildly into the mare. "Damn, horse, why can't ya be Rhonda? Sweet, licious Rhonda? Her cunt is so hot, so tight ... love Rhonda's cunt."
Emily knew she was having a nightmare. It just wasn't possible. Ruth and her big ass couldn't take a prick like that, let alone Rhonda. And how could they stand it from such a ... such an inhuman thing?
Hunchy pulled his cock from the mare's cunt. It looked even bigger to Emily than it had when he put it in. She stood with her mouth open as Hunchy climbed down from the stool, his sausage waving in the air.
"Halloo," Ruth called as she galloped up to the barn.
Emily looked wildly around for a place to hide, she couldn't let Ruth see her watching such a horrible scene. She rushed into the stall across from the mare's and ducked out of sight.
Ruth rode her horse into the stable, drawing up and dismounting when she saw Hunchy standing in the entrance to the mare's stall. His cock was dripping and slime covered.
"Hunchy!" Ruth cried. "Have you been fucking the horses again? I told you, you must never do that any more, it makes them too nervous."
She went to the dwarf and lifted his cock in her hand. It was still hard and stood out a full foot from the tangle of course hair at the bottom of his belly. Ruth stroked it with both hands, bringing the mighty tool back to full erection.
"You poor darling, you needed loving and mamma wasn't here," Ruth cooed. She kissed him on his ugly, fat lips, fingering his wet cock all the while.
Emily had crept back to her original vantage point and felt like retching. How can you, Ruth? He's so ugly, so deformed. Emily was unaware that her own crotch was soaking wet.
"Did the nice lady who went riding with me come in here?" Ruth asked. Hunchy shook his head. "She must have gone up to the house ... good.
"Do you want to play with mama's tits, Hunchy darling?" Ruth asked, already unbuttoning her blouse.
Her blouse fell to the ground followed quickly by her bra. Emily gasped. Her tits went almost to her navel. Facing the freak, Ruth dropped to her knees and straddled his cock like a stick horse and wrapped her mammoth tits around his ugly face. He pinched them together and took both nipples into his cavernous mouth.
"Hunchy, Hunchy, I can't stand it," she screamed, pulling her tits from his mouth. "Oh, darling, I wish I could let you fuck me ... I'm so hot!"
Emily wished she could, too. She wanted to see if his gigantic rod would actually go inside her. Oh, Hunchy, fuck her anyway, fuck her anyway, Emily moaned under her breath. She was gripping herself tightly between the legs now, pressing the cloth of her riding pants into her crack.
Ruth fell to the ground on her ass and took the cherry red knob of Hunchy's cock in her hands. "Let
I me kiss it, let me kiss it," she cried, pressing her lips to the gaping hole in the end.
She couldn't get the head in her mouth so she sucked on the hole and ran her tongue underneath, lapping wildly at that tender groove on the underside I of the glans. Hunchy closed his eyes and grinned, showing his yellow, decayed teeth.
When Hunchy came he gave a guttural grunt and poured his copious seed into her mouth. His spend was unbelievable, filling her mouth and running down her chin. The glutinous goop dripped from her chin onto her fat tits. Hunchy's eyes were bulging as his balls emptied into Ruth's sucking mouth.
Ruth jumped up and started removing her riding pants. "Keep it hard a little longer, darling, just a little longer. I have to have it, even if it will hurt afterwards."
She pushed her pants, panties, and pad down and fell to her knees. "Take me dog style ... push it all the way in," she panted.
Hunchy came up behind her, and his cock still firm, inserted himself into her open cunt. She reared back, taking his animal-like girth hungrily inside her belly.
"Get it all the way in, Hunchy, all the way in," she cried, "and fuck hard, it won't take long, I'm almost there already."
The hunchback rammed twelve inches of cock into her cunt and jerked it brutally in and out. He fell across her back and grabbed her breasts in his gnarled hands.
Emily was fastened to the spot where she stood, her hand clamped between her thighs. Her gaze was fixed on Hunchy's huge nuts, bouncing between his legs like two baseballs in a bag. She couldn't believe that Ruth had taken it all, and she was enjoying it, that was obvious.
Ruth was now rocking back and forth on her knees, ramming her ass against the dwarf's groin. Hunchy stood motionless and let the sex crazed woman do the work.
"I'm going to cum!" Ruth screamed, her knees going weak. "Ooooh Hunchy, I'm cumming, I'm cumming!"
Ruth's knees gave way and she flopped awkwardly onto her belly. Hunchy rode her down, his big slick pole still socked in to the hilt, and started pumping again. Her round, soft ass came up to meet his jarring thrusts.
"Cum you bitch, cum," Hunchy croaked, "Hunchy cumming, too."
And there before Emily's unbelieving eyes the massive-cocked freak came for the third time on one hard-on. He poured the remains of his stuff into the socialite's heaving belly and chortled with glee. He jerked his cum-streaked rod free and flogged her across the ass as it finally began to soften.
"You like? You like Hunchy's cock?" he bellowed.
"I love it. Oh, Hunchy, I hurt so good."
As Hunchy milked the final drop from his dong into the crack of Ruth's ass, he turned his head and saw Emily. She prevented a scream with her hand and ran blindly from the stable.
"Hunchy want pretty lady," he said, pulling his filthy trousers up his short, stocky legs. "And Hunchy get pretty lady next time she come riding."
Ruth lay in a daze on the ground, panting for breath. She hadn't understood a thing Hunchy had said. She knew she should go up to the house and see where Emily had gone, but she had to rest a while first. When she finally made her way painfully to the house, Emily was gone.
"She could have at least said good-bye. Bad mannered little bitch," Ruth said, and fell heavily onto her bed.
Emily had leaped into her Mercedes and shoved the gas pedal to the floor. She wanted to get as far away as she could. The motorcycle cop told her she was going ninety-five in a fifteen mile zone. She gripped the wheel until her knuckles hurt and looked down at her own crotch while the patrolman wrote out the ticket. She clamped her eyes shut to blot out the vision of the gigantic penis nuzzling at the furry hole tucked between her thighs. Shoving the ticket into the glove compartment, she rammed the car into gear and floor-boarded it.
"Crazy goddamned rich bitches," the cop swore, leaping onto his bike. "Oh, what the hell," he said, and rode off in the opposite direction.
Emily rushed into the house and mixed herself a stiff drink. Half way up the stairs she started stripping off her clothes. She felt filthy, degraded. Also, she felt hornier than ever. Her plan had backfired; she felt the need for cock stronger than ever.
Once under the shower, she let it beat down into her face, washing away the tears of anger and frustration. She stood like this for several minutes. Her blood froze when she felt someone behind her. Whirling, she looked down into the grinning face of Marty. He was naked and his little cock stood straight out.
"You little peckerhead, what're you doing in my shower?" she screamed.
"Wasn't I supposed to come early?" he asked.
She looked at his tiny pecker jutting out from its hairless mount and wailed, "Oh, yes, darling." She dropped down on the hard tile and opened her legs. "Fuck me, Marty, fuck me now," she cried, pulling the small boy down on top of her.
Marty's hard little cock entered her quickly, all the way. Emily hunched up against him, wishing his prick was bigger. Marty came quickly. Emily didn't cum.
Marty got dressed and took off. Emily mixed herself another drink and sat down on the bed, frustrated and unhappy. She finally slipped into a skirt and blouse and went downstairs to greet the screaming, raucous boys.
Tim was there, looking sheepish and apprehensive, but Herman failed to show. Emily wondered why, but of course she had no way of knowing that Herman's mother had caught him hiding in her closet so he could watch her undress and had rung the entire story from him. She was furious and threatened to call the police. Herman's father calmed her down, explaining that it would only mean a scandal involving their son. Besides, he told himself, perhaps this was a little white pussy he could get for himself.
Emily told Tim that she would act as an observer today and for him to conduct the meeting. She went behind the bar and mixed herself a drink. While Tim ran through the meeting Emily sipped at her drink, her free hand playing in the moist hair between her legs. Before the meeting ended she was leaning on the bar masturbating wildly.
"Tim, come here," Emily called.
Tim came over to the bar. "Yes ma'am," he said.
"Come around behind the bar."
Tim came behind the bar. Emily took his hand and put it under her dress. She pressed it to her cunt and smiled. f
"I've decided to forgive you, Tim," she said. "Get the boys in the pool and come back in the house, I'm going to reward you for doing such a splendid job conducting the meeting."
Tim slid his fingers back and forth between her cunt lips. They were wet and hot. "Jesus," he said softly, and ran from behind the bar.
"Okay, you dirty little farts, meeting's over," he shouted. "Last one in the pool gets corn-holed by the I whole troop."
Emily grinned at the obscene talk and took a hefty pull on her drink. Goddamn, she thought, how low can you sink, Emily Foster? Something twitched inside her cunt and she lifted her skirt and started massaging herself again.
Tim was back in a flash, grinning lewdly.
"My God, Tim, how did you get them in the pool so fast?" she asked.
"Nobody wanted to get corn-holed," he said, grinning. "Besides, I told them they could swim in the raw today."
"You mean they're out there in the nude?"
"Hell yes, you got a high fence, nobody can see."
Emily wanted to see. The thought of all those naked boys thrilled her, but she decided that a bird in the hand is certainly worth two in the bush. Besides, Tim's cock was surely bigger than any of those little boys. She knew it was bigger than Marty's.
"Let's go over on the couch," she said, taking his hand.
She sat down on the couch and pulled his pants down his legs. His cock was already standing at attention. She felt her drool start at the sight. She wanted to suck him off, but knew it would prevent him from fucking her, and she had to have his penis inside her cunt.
"God, Timmy, it's beautiful. Kick out of those trousers and climb up on top of mamma. I need you, baby."
While Tim shucked out of his pants, Emily lifted her skirt up over her hips and lay back on the couch.
"Put it in, Tim, put it in," she cooed. "Fuck me good. And go slow, I want to cum too."
Tim's cock was larger than Marty's, not a great deal, but larger just the same. And it felt fine, just fine as it slid between the pouting lips of her cunt. The furry hole gobbled it up. She wrapped her long legs around his back and rocked slowly.
"It's wonderful, Tim," she moaned. "Do it slow and easy. Push it in and out ... yes, honey, like that. Ooh, Tim, I'm going to cum already ... you're so good. Keep fucking, baby, faster now."
Emily felt like swooning. The orgasm she had been wanting so badly gathered momentum and raced through her nerves.
"Don't cum yet, Tim, don't cum yet," she cried, unwrapping her legs. "I'll finish you with my lips."
Emily pushed the startled boy back and came over him in a rush. He was on the verge of orgasm and once her lips closed around his organ, he came with a gush. Emily sucked until his little boy balls were dry, taking his dick in down to the light fuzz.
"You're the greatest, Mrs. Foster. Can I come back next week?" Tim asked.
"Of course, darling ... and we'll fuck again. Now you go and have a good swim."
She rested for a while and then snuck out in the bushes and watched the boys swim. She didn't want it to, but it filled her with desire all over again.
Later that night after her senses had returned to normal, Emily made a pledge that she would resist her perverted desires. The things that I'm doing to myself and those poor, innocent boys, she thought. It's unthinkable. I'll just have to try harder; I must, I must.
CHAPTER SIX
Emily did try harder, for a whole week she fought with her emotions, her pent-up sexual desire. But even while she was trying harder, she was subconsciously planning the events of her last den meeting. For three days before the pack arrived, she wore the same sheer bikini panties, often drawing the thin band that went between her thighs snugly up into her damp crack. By D-day they were ripe and ready. When Marty left that night they were safe inside his pocket, insuring many days of pungent masturbation.
As usual, Marty arrived early and Emily's good intentions went down the drain. She stripped him naked and loved his body with her lips and tongue, sucking on his flavorful penis until he could take no w more. Even though he couldn't ejaculate, she decided his prick belonged in her mouth; it now seemed too small to satisfy her cunt.
Unable to contain her growing perversion, she hid two of the boys in her closet so they could watch Tim fuck her. She failed to orgasm with Tim. After Tim had left she brought herself off on the floor in front of the closet and then crawled inside with the boys and jacked them off. Their pricks were very small, but very hard, and they felt good. With one in each hand, she jerked them to a dry spend.
Afterward, she got roaring drunk and passed out in bed.
The next day Mack came home at noon. He sat down at the table with her. She was drinking black coffee.
"Well, I'm glad to see you're .sober," he said sarcastically.
Emily looked sullenly at her long lost husband. "You're not around enough to notice. Besides, I don't do it very often."
"More often than you used to," he shot back.
"What brings you home this time of day?" she asked, changing the subject.
"I just wanted to remind you about the party Friday night."
"I remember," Emily said, "and I'll be the perfect hostess, as usual."
Mack turned and shouted in the direction of the I kitchen, "Hey, Erma, get me a cup of coffee."
Emily winced in pain. "Not so damn loud," she said, putting her hands to her head.
"Sorry, kid," Mack said, laughing openly at her predicament.
She didn't mind Mack's parties; they were completely catered and didn't cause her any work. She did have to put up with his shitty, snobbish friends, but then she decided they were her friends, too. Their friends were society ass-holes, every last one of them.
Ruth and her husband would be there, of course. She smiled and almost laughed out loud. Ruth should bring Hunchy the horse-cocked hunchback instead of her husband; he could fuck all the wives and sodomize all the husbands. That would be one party no one would forget. One thing she was sure of, she would never see Ruth again without visualizing the grotesque freak mounting her from the rear, and she had a rear worth mounting.
The day of the party arrived quickly, and in the pattern she had developed in the past weeks, she started fortifying early. By evening, she was full of expensive Scotch and felt a pleasant glow from the top of her beautiful head to the tips of her lacquered toenails.
She stepped from a warm shower and lifted her magnificent tits into a bra that could only be described as a non-bra. With her raspberry-like nipples sticking straight out, she slipped into a pair of heels and went down the hall to Angie's room. Angie stared at her naked mother in the doorway.
"Are you going to be home tonight?" Emily asked.
Angie stared at the wad of golden-brown hair covering her mother's mound. Her belly looked so smooth and flat, her ass so round and firm. Somehow she seemed sexier than Angie remembered her in the past.
"No, I'm going out," Angie finally said. "I'll be in around twelve, but I'll just come on up to my room." "Come on down to my room and talk to me while
I dress," Emily said, stepping back into the hall.
Emily went to the little bar in the corner of her bedroom and mixed two drinks. She handed one to Angie and said, "Light a couple of cigarettes."
Angie hesitated at the proffered drink.
"Oh, go on, take it. If you're going to do-these things, no need to go behind my back."
Angie took the drink, lit two cigarettes, and after handing Emily one, settled comfortably on the bed.
Emily took the stopper from a perfume bottle and dabbed behind her ears, under her arms, between her breasts, and finally drew the big glass stopper sensually through the deep groove between her legs.
"Ooooooh, that tickles good," she murmured, and did it again.
Angie shook her head and took a big slug from her glass. I guess I don't know my mother at all, Angie thought. I don't think dad knows what he's missing, either. She hadn't been able to figure out why her parents were no longer sleeping together.
"With the patio doors open and people going in and out all night, the air conditioning won't be worth a damn. I don't think I'll wear panties."
She slipped on a sheer little blouse with a low front and stepped into a full, maxi-skirt. She turned and grinned at Angie. "For anyone to know that I'm bare-assed, they ll have to crawl under my skirt. And I doubt that that will happen, don't you?" She winked at her sexy fifteen-year-old daughter.
She did up her face and poured the rest of the Scotch down her throat. "Well, that's it," she said. "I guess I'm ready for the onslaught."
The guests started arriving at nine o'clock. Norma Burgman, her den mother neighbor and her fat money-grubbing husband, Sidney, were the first to arrive. Emily greeted them warmly. Inside, Emily resented Norma's returning from Bermuda or wherever the hell she had been and reclaiming her den pack.
When Marion Connely and her fat, bald-headed slob of a husband arrived, Emily couldn't help but think of Marion's virile, young son forcing her to take his load in her mouth. She was sure that fat Arthur didn't have a fuck left in him. He was an ugly man with an over-sized, heavily jowled head, yellow teeth, and beady little eyes. His belly was huge and flabby and hung out over his belt.
Mack's new junior vice-president arrived with his young bride of three months. Jeff Dunn was young, maybe twenty-eight, and cocky as hell. He was dark, good-looking, and well built. His wife, May, was a tiny thing. She was a beautiful girl with coal black eyes and hair so black it was nasty. She looked as young as Angie, though Emily guessed her to be about twenty, and couldn't have weighed a hundred pounds wringing wet. Her lips were painted bright red, pouty and fat, and very sexy.
Emily had difficulty hiding her chagrin when Marlene Speck arrived with her anemic, seventeen-year-old son. Sanford was tall and very thin. He wore horn-rimmed glasses and had buck teeth, still in braces.
"Emily, darling, I'm sure you won't mind that I brought Sanford. We just couldn't get a baby-sitter," Marlene simpered.
"Uh, why of course it's all right," Emily said.
Why in the goddamn hell do you need a baby-sitter for a seventeen-year-old kid? Emily thought. She's probably afraid the anemic-looking little bastard will die of loneliness without his mommy.
"The doc will be along later, he had an emergency at the hospital," Marlene said.
Marlene always called her husband, "the doc." The doc was Dr. Bernard Speck, chief surgeon at City Hospital. And this annoyed Emily, too. They couldn't get a sitter for their nasal idiot of a son and Dr. Bernard Speck pulled down a hundred thousand per, no sweat.
"If you ll just take Sanford to a guest room, hell rest and stay out of the way," Marlene cooed.
Emily could no longer hide her disgust and blurted out, "Christ, just go upstairs and take your pick, Sanford. I'm no nursemaid."
Mack gave her a dirty look. Sanford gave her a sheepish, awkward grin and went slowly upstairs. She felt sorry for the dismal-looking boy and wished she hadn't been so harsh. Then she glanced coldly at her disapproving husband and thought, Go fuck yourself, Mack.
Marlene ignored the dig completely. She had feelings like a rhinoceros. You couldn't insult her if you tried.
She was an exquisite blonde with pointed tits, round butt, long legs, and all the trimmings. She wore an expensive pants suit that looked like it had been painted on. Her nipples were plainly visible, poking into the skin tight fabric. Mack eye-balled her hungrily.
"Thank you, Emily darling," Marlene said in her honey-coated, four-caret phony voice. "I didn't want to bring him along, but I hate to leave him home all alone, and we just simply cannot get a sitter for him."
She glanced around to see if anyone else was listening and whispered, "The little bastard plays with himself all the time. Every time we get a nice babysitter, he opens his pants and jerks off in front of them. Why, only two weeks ago the filthy little monster tried to force an eighty-year-old sitter to suck him off. Needless to say, she left in a huff before we even got back home. It makes me blush to even tell this, but when we did get home he was in his room masturbating. And the snot-nose shit ass didn't even put his cock back in his pants while I tried to find out what happened to the sitter. I found out the next day when she called and threatened to go to the police."
Mack had trouble containing his laughter. Emily just smiled weakly and stared into space. Neither said anything.
Ruth and Clifford Devonshire were the last to arrive, as usual. They claimed a mix-up in their social schedule would only allow them to stay for a short while. The only mix-up Emily could imagine them having was fat-assed Ruthy mixing it up with Hunchy on the stable floor. She still found it hard to believe what she had seen. The instant dampness between her thighs, however, let her know that she had seen it.
The house was full of guests. They sat around the front room, stood around in the kitchen, and lounged all over the patio and back yard. They all absorbed Mack's liquor like long overdue blotters. By ten-thirty several guests were in the pool-with their clothes on. By eleven-thirty there were several more-without anything on.
Marlene Speck was one of the latter. She clung to the edge of the pool in the deep end with a languid, drunken smile on her lips and her pointed tits peeking over the edge. A rising young executive from the Benjamin Medical Laboratories was close behind her.
He was rising here, too. Rising and lowering and rising and lowering and ... Dr. Bernard Speck hadn't arrived yet, but Marlene didn't seem to mind. The young exec's six-inch thermometer was much harder than the doc's, anyway.
Jeff Dunn was very possessive of his petite bride. He made sure that no male got too close. Emily noticed that he paid very close attention to something else, too-her bulging boobs. Between his preoccupation with Emily's tits and his protection toward his young wife, he failed to grasp that Mack's attention to the handsome young couple was not entirely that of a good host.
Emily had laid off the sauce when the guests started arriving and felt uncomfortably sober. She saw that the party was degenerating into something less than a Sunday School picnic and decided it was time for a good stiff drink.
I need a good strong one all by myself, she thought, away from all these milling, drooling idiots. The study was the only room that she was sure would be vacant; it was locked. She took the key from the ledge above the door and slipped inside. She pushed the door shut with her backside and heaved a sigh of relief; the silent darkness was like a breath of fresh air. Making her way through the pitch-black room, she went to the desk and snapped on the modernistic lamp and went to the bar. The Scotch tasted marvelous as it made its way to her stomach.
"Hi," a voice behind her said.
Emily jerked around, almost spilling her drink. Sanford stood about three feet away. He looked rather stupid standing in the dim light grinning sheepishly.
"Where the hell did you come from? How did you get in here?" Emily snapped.
"I'm sorry I startled you," he said weakly. "I was just standing over in the corner. I picked the lock and then picked it locked again so no one would find me in here. I used a hair pin I found on your dressing table."
God, Emily thought, I should have known he'd pick my room. Why not Angie's? He could have jacked off on her teddy bears until she came home.
"I got tired of just laying up there in bed. Your room sure smells good, Mrs. Foster," the weak-eyed kid said.
"Oh, for Christ's sake!" Emily answered, and poured the rest of the Scotch down in one gulp. She turned back to the bar and poured the glass half full of amber booze. "Can I make you a drink?" she asked.
"Heavens no, Mrs. Foster, my mother would have a fit if she caught me drinking."
Emily almost gagged on the half-swallowed mouthful of Scotch. His mother would have a fit. Oh shit, that's a good one. She lets him sit around with his dong hanging out, but would have a fit if he took a little nip.
There was a knock. "Oh, Emily, are you in there?" came Marlene's voice through the closed door.
"Oh, my Lord, it's Mother," Sanford whined. "Whatll I do? She'll kill me if she finds me in here bothering you."
"You're not bothering me, Sanford."
"She won't believe that. . . she'll kill me. What should I do?"
"Oh, for God's sake, Sanford, hide," Emily snorted. Then in a loud voice, "Just a minute, Marlene. Don't come in yet."
"Where?" Sanford cried. "Behind the desk, stupid."
Sanford ran and crouched down behind the desk. Emily saw immediately that it wouldn't work, the front of the desk was open and she could see his big feet sticking out. She looked desperately around the room. There just wasn't any place to hide in this room; everything was built into the walls and the drapes had been removed to be cleaned. She rushed behind the desk.
"Scrunch yourself into a ball," she ordered. "Your mother will see you all spread out like that."
Sanford did as he was told. Emily lifted her skirt and straddled the huddled boy and let the skirt fall back to the floor. She felt foolish, but she was sure that since she was behind the desk and her skirt was full and floor length, that Marlene couldn't tell that she stood with her legs as far apart as they would go.
"Now don't move or make a sound," she whispered to Sanford. "Come in now," she shouted.
"What's going on in here?" Marlene said suspiciously, sliding in quickly and closing the door behind her.
"What's been going on out there is a better question," Emily cried.
Marlene was wearing nothing but a pair of very thin, silk panties. The ends of her pointed tits were all pink as though someone had been sucking on them. She held the skin-tight outfit she came in under her arm.
"Oh, nothing, really," Marlene said, then giggled. "We went skinny dipping. The doc just drove up and I was afraid you were going to leave me standing in the hall too long. He'd just die if he saw me like this." She giggled again, and looked around the room.
"Why, you're alone. I thought I heard voices in here."
"Just your imagination. I came in here to get away for a moment."
"I'm afraid the doc wouldn't approve of my swimming in the nude with other men," Marlene said, pulling the pants up her long legs.
Emily jerked and went stiff. She wondered if the doc would approve of his son. Sanford's hand was slowly creeping up the inside of her thigh. Her face colored. The tips of Sanford's fingers were touching her juicy cunt.
Marlene finally fought the tight pants into place and started struggling with the top.
"Ooooh!" Emily moaned aloud. Sanford was kissing her. "God!" she said, and leaned forward with her hands on the desk. Thank God for this desk, she thought as Sanford's tongue slithered into action.
Marlene had her top in place now and came over to! the desk. Her hair was still wet and all kinky with little blonde curls.
"Is something wrong, Em? You're making funny noises, and you have the strangest look on your face," Marlene said.
"No, no not really," Emily said, the sweat forming on her forehead. "I ... I had a muscle spasm. I'll be all right in a minute."
The door opened and a distinguished-looking man stuck his head inside. "Are you in here, Marlene?" the doc said.
"Just me and Emily, honey," Marlene answered. "Thank God," she added softly.
"Hi, Doc," Emily said weakly. Then to Marlene, "You go ahead with Doc and join the party, I'll be out in a minute."
"Are you sure you're okay, darling?" Marlene asked.
"Yes, I'm fine ... just fine," Emily stammered. Sanford's tongue was rolled now and deep inside Emily's juicing cunt. She was just fine.
"Okay, darling," Marlene said. She turned and went to the door where her husband stood waiting. "Let's go, Doc, it's a wonderful party."
As the door closed, Emily sagged against the wonderful mouth sucking her pussy. She straightened up and lifted her long skirt up over her hips. Sanford removed his face from her twat and looked up.
"I'm ... I'm sorry, I couldn't control myself," he whined.
"Don't apologize, you little crotch cannibal," Emily moaned, "just do it some more."
Sanford went eagerly back to work. Emily held her skirt high and watched the little pervert perform his art. It felt wonderful.
"Oh, Sanford, that's wonderful. Let me go close the door before I cum," she said softly. "Or before someone else comes ... in."
Emily closed the door and inserted the key. Her skirt fell to the floor by the door. Her blouse went about halfway to the desk. Her bra dropped on the edge of the desk and slid off into the wastebasket.
Emily kneeled before the bug-eyed boy. She undid his belt and tugged his pants down his skinny legs. His shorts met the same fate. His cock stuck out like a piece of steel. The end was all wet. It was a good inch longer than Tim's, though a trifle skinny.
"Oh, Sanford, you have a nice one," she cooed. "Do you squirt much when you cum?"
Sanford couldn't believe his eyes or his ears. "Yes, I really do," he answered, his voice strained and weak.
"Sanford, fuck me, fuck me now," Emily cried, stretching out on the thick carpet.
"I've never ... never done it before," Sanford stammered.
"You'll never learn any younger," Emily said. "Besides, you won't have any trouble, you jack-off all the time."
"How did you know? Does it show?"
"Of course it shows. How else could you develop such a fine-muscled cock? Now stop whining and put it in ... all of it."
Sanford fumbled for a moment then found the opening. His cock slid in with ease, all the way. Emily moaned with pleasure. It did feel bigger, and it felt much, much better; it felt wonderful. She hunched up against him and hooked her feet behind his scrawny back.
"Now fuck me good, Sanford. Make me cum hard," Emily cried.
Sanford really popped it to her. He was a natural fucker, he didn't need any training. Besides, he'd had plenty of practice on things at home. All kinds of things; a pillow, his mother's powder puffs, a sponge, even a rolled up piece of bologna. He'd eaten it afterward.
Jesus H. Christ, he thought, this is better than jacking off in front of Mary Lou Ames, the Sunday School teacher who sat for him-once.
The two combatants fucked wildly. Emily's orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks. She cried out and clamped her legs around him like a vise.
"I'm there, I'm there!" Sanford yelped, his pecker spitting its juice. "Squeeze it all out, Mrs. Foster. Oh, goddamn it's good!"
Later, Emily lay over the boy and sucked on his prick until it began to harden. She played with his nuts and drew on his stick until it happened all over again. Sanford cried like a baby as his crap oozed into her mouth. She drained his nuts good.
Angie came up the front walk and pushed the door open. It took all her strength because some guy had passed out against the door. She stepped over his limp body and looked at him with disgust.
"Stupid, inane adult parties," she said. As she went to the stairway she glanced into the front room. Her mouth dropped open. A couple was on the couch fucking like crazy. "Wow!" she cried, and stepped in to watch.
Emily finally emerged from the den, her clothes back in place. Sanford still sat on the floor behind the desk, his raw and wilted cock leaking a few final drops of little boy cum onto the carpet.
Most of the guests had gone. She stepped into the front room where the naked couple on the couch now lay motionless. She stepped out on the patio. The Doc was stretched out on a lounger; he waved when he saw Emily.
"Hi, Em. How about stepping into the kitchen and see where Marlene is. She went after a drink for me ages ago. She must be brewing it."
"Sure, Doc," Emily said, and stepped back in the house.
The kitchen was empty. She was about to leave when she heard a groan and a grunt. She found Doc's wife behind the refrigerator. She was backed into the corner, her tight pants in a puddle around one foot. The other foot was hooked behind a thick thigh. The thigh belonged to the guy who was punching his cock into Marlene's dripping pussy. She didn't know who the guy was, she could only see his back, but Marlene was sure enjoying it. She looked right at Emily and didn't even see her.
Emily waved her hand back and forth in front of Marlene's eyes. Marlene stared without blinking, a foolish grin on her half open mouth. She kept letting out little groans of obvious pleasure.
God, Emily thought, the Doc could walk in and watch and his wife would never know the difference. I wonder if it's just the wealthy that get so wound up sexually that they don't know what they're doing. . . or is everyone like this? Emily walked from the room filled with doubts, both about herself and her friends.
In the hall outside the kitchen Emily was confronted with still further shenanigans. Leaning against the wall was the young executive, Jeff. He was so drunk that he could stand only with support from the wall. His pants were down around his thighs. Marion Connely was on her knees sucking hungrily on his distended member. Emily figured he either had an awfully short cock or it was running down her throat because her lips were in his pubic hair.
Jeff's gorgeous blue eyes were glazed over; his arms hung loosely at his sides. When he stiffened and started to cum, his body slid slowly down the wall until he was a crumpled heap on the floor. Marion followed him down, keeping every inch of his juicing pecker in her mouth. She drew on his dick like it was an all-day sucker.
"Yeah, she really hates the taste of that stuff," Emily said, walking away. "like shit she does."
Emily trudged wearily up the long staircase; enough was enough. Before going to her room she decided to look in and see if Angie had come home yet. God, the things the young girl would see just walking through her own home. It made Emily shiver.
Yes, Angie was home, and Emily wished now that she wasn't. She was in her precious little bed, but not alone. Arthur Connely lay on his back with Angie perched securely on his peg. She sat upright, rocking back and forth, her hands resting on his flabby belly.
"Oh, Arty," Angie cooed, "I'd never have believed you had such a big one."
"Treat it right, honey chile, treat it right, and it's all yours."
"Just keep it stiff and I'll treat it right all night."
Emily stood with her mouth hanging open, not sure what to do, if anything. Of course, she was sure of one thing, Angie had to be on top like she was, or she'd never get the damn thing in. The old fool was so fat that he'd have to have one a foot long just to stick I out even with his belly. Emily hated herself, but watching made her cunt tickle. She had developed into a first-class voyeur.
Angie started gasping and fell forward across the old man's gut. "Oh, oh ... I'm cumming!" she screamed.
When she fell forward, Angie pulled herself free from his cock. It popped up and rested in the crack of her ass. Emily gasped. It was huge, almost as big as Mack's. How could little Angie take it? And she'd had it all, sitting upright.
"That's a far cry from all night, kid," Arthur said. "I didn't cum yet."
Angie rolled off onto the bed beside him and laid her head on his fat belly. "I'll take care of that," she said, and wrapped her fingers around his huge cock and started jacking him off.
"Uh!" he grunted, and came.
Arthur had a load to match his cock. The first charge squirted up and came down on his belly a half inch from Angie's nose. The next came down in his pubic hair. The rest just bubbled out and oozed down over Angie's hand.
Emily turned and walked away. She was sure she had seen all she could stand. Her young daughter taking on a grown man, and an old, repulsive grown man at that, and enjoying it had to be the limit. She stopped in front of the door to her bedroom and sighed-there was more to come.
Spread out and wide open lay the diminutive May Dunn. She was naked and smiling with expectation. Mack was just divesting himself of his last stocking. He walked up to the bed and waved his huge pecker in front of her.
"Oh, Mack, it's so much bigger than Jeff's, you'll split me wide open," she said.
Mack climbed on the bed and put his face between her wide-spread thighs. "How long have you and Jeff been married?" he asked, as he pushed his face into her bush.
May blushed crimson. "Just three months," she answered softly. "Really, Mack, I'm so ashamed of myself. I've just been married three months and I let another man do this to me. Oooh, darling, that feels wonderful, don't ever stop." She pressed his head into his crotch with both hands. "Where is Jeff now? He won't catch us, will he?"
Mack raised up for a moment. "Nah, he's downstairs. Passed out cold." Mack resumed his sucking.
"Mack honey, I love it!" May cried. "Jeff never did this to me. It makes me so horny. I even think I could cum like this."
Mack raised up in spite of her protestations. "Well, you're not going to, I have something else in mind."
"You're not going to fuck me, Mack. I'm a new bride, I can't let you do that ... I just can't." Her hand was already guiding his cock between her legs. "No, Mack, no! Lf you do this, it'll be rape."
Emily watched as tiny May Dunn's cunt swallowed up Mack's immense pecker. She gurgled with contentment and her legs curled up around Mack's broad back.
"Rape me, you big bastard, rape me," May Dunn squealed. "You're the only man besides Jeff who's ever done this to me. Oh, Mack, I just love it!"
"Is Jeff good?" Mack asked, his huge dong going into her with long, easy strokes.
"Yes, yes, he's very good. . . umm, deeper, honey ... only he doesn't do it often enough, and his thing isn't big like yours. Oh, darling Mack, I'll never be satisfied with him again. You ll have to fuck me every day from now on."
"I'm afraid my wife wouldn't like that."
"Oh, fuck your wife," May spat.
"I wish I could," Mack answered.
"Don't talk so much ... just fuck," May said, grinding herself against him.
Emily blushed. Mack, I wish you could, too. There has to be something drastically wrong with me when a tiny little bitch like you can enjoy my husband's cock and I can't. And my fifteen-year-old daughter takes on massive pricks while I settle for children. Little children with pricks the size of my middle finger. I need help, professional help.
Emily was weeping now, the tears running down her cheeks in rivulets. She slumped to the floor, her hand under her skirt, and masturbated. The tears flowed freely as her orgasm sent thrills up her spine.
God, what am I becoming? she asked herself, her fingers still working feverishly at the overjoyed nerve-endings in her drooling cunt.
On the bed, Mack felt his balls tighten for the charge up May Dunn's hill. "I'm going to cum, baby," he gasped.
"Not yet, wait. One more second and I'll cum with you," May cried. "NO! Don't wait, I'm there. I'm cummingggg, too!"
Tiny May Dunn thrashed wildly as big Mack poured his hot sticky cum into her twitching cunt.
On the floor, Emily gasped for air and pulled her fingers from her soggy cunt.
On the bed, Mack gasped for air and pulled his shriveling rod from May Dunn's soggy cunt.
May gasped for air. "Do it again, you sonofabitch."
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next morning Emily decided on a plan of action and called the clinic where her brother-in-law was employed. She made an appointment with Ray for three that same afternoon.
Mack awakened with a terrible hangover. He left the house without so much as a good-bye, complaining about his splitting head.
Angie was still asleep. Dreaming, no doubt, about pot-bellied old men with unusually long penises. A sweet smile wreathed her angelic features.
Emily arrived at the clinic at ten minutes to three. The white-clad woman at the front desk directed her to 4-B down the hall. Raymond Valverde, Psychologist was stamped on the door in gold.
"Is Dr. Valverde expecting you?" the voluptuous young blonde in white asked.
"Yes, I have an appointment for three," Emily answered.
With a yawn the girl looked at her watch. The top two buttons on her uniform were open and Emily could see well into the deep cleavage of her large breasts.
"It's not yet three. Will you have a seat?" the blonde said, curtly.
Emily had no more than seated herself when Ray stuck his head through the door to his office. "Miss Jenson, will you....? Emily, I didn't know you were here," he cried. "I told you to let me know as soon as Mrs. Foster got here," he said to the blonde.
He crossed the room, his arms outstretched. "Em, it's so good to see you, it's been months," he said, hugging his sister-in-law. "And to what do I owe this delightful visit?"
"It's good to see you, Ray. Couldn't we talk in your office," Emily said, glancing at Ray's receptionist.
"I'm sorry, of course." He ushered her into his office; it was plush and tasteful. "Excuse me a second, I'll tell Miss Jenson not to disturb us."
He stepped back out the door. Miss Jenson's desk was only a step away. Ray took the step and leaned close to the shapely girl, cupping one of her oversized breast in his hand.
"Hold all calls, Jan. I don't want to be disturbed," he said. "And while I'm thinking of it, let's stop for a drink after work."
"I can't," Jan simpered, "my fianc''s picking me up at four-thirty."
"Shit," Ray growled.
"If you're really interested, though, you could stop by my place around nine. Bob is going on the road tomorrow and will want to get home early."
"Are you sure hell be gone by nine?"
"I'll make sure if you're coming by," she said, rolling her big, blue eyes. "My roommate's gone too. You could stay all night if you can think of an excuse for your wife." She reached out and caressed the growing lump in his trousers.
Emily stood in the doorway listening. She felt like getting terribly angry; after all, he was her only sister's husband. He shouldn't play around on her. Then she thought of herself, of all the husbands and wives at the party last night, of Joanie herself and Mack's big cock jammed snugly between her sister's thighs. What the hell? She sighed, and went and sat down in a huge, overstuffed chair beside Ray's desk.
Ray kissed the hot blonde's lips and stepped into his office. He pushed the door closed and crossed over to the chair behind his desk.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Em, but these office-type girls can be so dense at times," he said. "And now, you. You look great. This must be a social call, because you look too good to have any trouble."
"I do have trouble, Ray, sexual trouble," Emily blurted out before she had time to lose her nerve.
Ray frowned and put the tips of his fingers to his lips. "I'm no doctor, Em," he said.
"It's not physical, Ray. It's in my head."
"I'm no psychiatrist, either, but I'll sure help if I can."
Emily started at the beginning with Uncle Lester and by the time she got to her agonizing honeymoon her face was beet red. "This is so embarrassing, maybe I should have gone to a psychiatrist, at least to a stranger, but I thought it would be easier talking to you."
"Just relax, Em, and pretend I am a stranger. I'm sure I can be of help to you," he said. He was already sure that he couldn't help her, but he wanted to hear her story. Ray had wanted to get into her pants from the moment he met her. She was so good looking, so built, so sexy; and age had done nothing but improve her.
"It's not really an accepted practice, but let me pour you a drink. It'll help you to relax."
"I had two before I came," Emily said, "but yes, I believe another would help."
Ray took two paper cups from his desk and filled them to the brim from a flask. "I think I'll have one, too," he said, handing her the cup of whiskey.
Emily took a sip and winced. "God, Ray, that's straight whiskey. I prefer Scotch."
"Sorry, honey. I don't have any Scotch."
"Any old port in a storm," Emily said and downed the whiskey.
Emily launched into her story. As she progressed she grew bolder and more descriptive. She grew excited as she related her sordid tale to her handsome brother-in-law and opened and closed her legs regularly. By the time she got to the hunchback, her panties were clearly in view. Ray thought his pecker would split open all the way down, it was so hard.
An hour and a half and five cups of whiskey later, Emily ended her tale with a brutally graphic description of Mack screwing the three-month bride while she herself masturbated in the shadows.
"Well, you've heard the worst, Ray. And I'm sure you hate me now."
"Nothing of the kind, Emily. I'm a psychologist and I understand these things," Ray said, rising from his chair. "Let me tell Miss Jenson to go on home and well discuss your problem further."
Emily wanted to follow Ray to the door and see what he did, but she forced herself to remain in her chair. The crotch of her panties was sopping wet.
Ray closed the door behind him and leaned toward the voluptuous office girl. Her skirt was well above her knees so he laid his hand on her soft thigh.
"Your boyfriend is probably waiting for you, so why don't you go ahead and take off. I'm not quite done here yet. I'll lock up when I leave."
Jan pouted up at him, suspecting hanky-panky in his office. "You shouldn't put your hands on my leg, someone might walk in."
"To hell with someone," Ray said, running his hand up under her skirt and nuzzling his fingers in the thick mat of fragrant black hair between her legs.
"Jesus, Ray, save it for tonight," she said, hunching against his hand. "You will be over, won't you?"
"At nine sharp, baby," he answered, pulling his finger through the fat lips of her cunt.
Ray stepped back through the door and deftly snapped the lock as he pushed it shut. Taking his seat, he pursed his lips and rested his fingertips on his chin. A very professional pose, he thought.
"What we have here, Emily, is a classic case of over-reaction to penis size. It's really very common." Ray had never heard of a case before in his life; in fact, he had made it up.
"Can you help me?" Emily asked.
"I'm sure I can, Emily. Now what I'm going to prescribe may sound very unorthodox, possibly even shocking, but it's the only therapy that has ever produced any tangible results in cases like this."
"I'll do anything, anything you say."
Ray let his eyes travel up Emily's splendid legs and stopped at the fringe of yellow panties peeking from beneath her skirt. He suppressed a smile of triumph.
"It's obvious from your story that you have a fear of large penises, not all penises. You have stated that you enjoy a young boy because his genitals are small, and that as you become accustomed to his size you feel the need to move on to a boy a little older, hence, one with a larger penis. You have even indicated an unusual fascination for the gargantuan girth of the hunchback freak.
"Now as I see it, the solution to your problem is quite simple. You need only to get accustomed to a size and then move on to someone who is built larger. Ending with your husband or maybe even this grotesque freak you mentioned."
Ray looked into Emily's eyes. He was sure she looked very shocked. In reality she was intrigued. Maybe it would work. She knew she was no longer satisfied with tiny Marty. Even Tim seemed too small and she had enjoyed Sanford immensely. But the horrible Hunchy, never!
"You look shocked, my dear," Ray said. "I will admit it seems rather drastic, but your mental health is at stake. You must take drastic action."
"Actually, it makes a great deal of sense, Ray. And I did say I'd do anything. I meant it."
Ray felt his pecker twitch in his pants. He swallowed hard and continued, "Well, we've surmounted that obstacle, but what I have to say now may destroy the whole thing."
"I'm listening," Emily said. Her pants were on fire. She wanted to get the interview over so she could go and find the next size up.
"You have no way of knowing, of course, but I have never been what could be considered generously endowed. In fact, my penis is not a great deal larger than a young boy's."
He hesitated a moment to gauge her reaction. She showed no sign of distaste so he continued, "As a trained psychologist I can't help but feel I can ease you over the trauma of starting a quest for larger co ... penises."
"Sounds fair enough," Emily said blandly. Inside her heart was pounding at the thought. She had always liked Ray Valverde.
"I hope you understand what I mean," Ray said, unzipping his pants.
"I understand perfectly, Ray. Go ahead, take it out, let me see it."
Ray fished into his trousers and slowly extracted his hard pecker. He was understandably sensitive about its size. Joanie ribbed him unmercifully and called him pencil prick. She admitted, though, that she liked for him to stick it in her pencil box.
"It's gorgeous, Ray," Emily said. "Play with it a little while I watch."
Emily had titillated herself into a state of sexual frenzy with her own story, and since she was quite tight, she didn't care any more who serviced her as long as someone did.
Ray rolled his chair closer and started to masturbate. Emily watched with fascination. His prick was larger than Sanford's, but compared to Mack's it still looked like a little boy's. She lifted her skirt about her hips.
"Take off my panties, Ray. I want you to make love to me."
"With pleasure," Ray said, dropping to his knees in front of her.
She lifted up while he pulled them down her legs.
He put his hands on her knees and spread her legs apart, then lowered his face into the pungent, hair-infested nest. Emily scooted down in the seat to meet his mouth. After a few minutes of this, Emily was writhing with pleasure.
"Oh, Ray darling, if you don't stop immediately I'll cum," Emily cried, forcing herself tighter against the clinging mouth. "Ray ... Ray, don't stop now, it's too late ... I'm cumming!"
Emily thought she would faint. It was so good, so good. She had never had it done by someone who knew how before, and Ray didn't just know how, he was an expert. In fact, he was so good that Joanie wouldn't let him fuck her unless he brought her close with his mouth first. For over five years now Ray had never fucked his wife without first sucking her cunt. He was a cunt-lapper par excellence.
Emily was floating on a cloud and only vaguely realized he was pushing her onto the floor. He crawled over her body and pushed inside, fucking at her rapidly. It made him very hot to eat a pussy, especially a new pussy. Her senses returned at the feel of his cock inside her cunt and she started working with him.
"Oh, Ray, that feels so good, don't ever stop," she moaned. "I love you, I love you ... Ohhhh, Ray darling!"
"You hot bitch," Ray muttered, "you just love to get fucked. And Joanie said you were a cold ass."
"I was, but that's all in the past. Keep fucking ... don't stop for an instant ... I think I can cum again."
"Jesus, Em, I'm going to cum!" Ray cried.
"Me too, me too!"
When she felt his hot sticky nut juice she rocked off into another orgasm, more violent than the first one.
Emily held his dick inside until it became so soft it was no longer possible. He raised up on his knees and Emily looked at his tiny pecker poking through the zipper.
"Why you didn't even take down your pants," she said.
"I just couldn't wait. You not only taste delicious, but you fuck to perfection."
Emily blushed. "Oh, Ray, it was just wonderful for me, too. It was the best it's ever been. I could do it all over again."
"You little bitch," Ray said and grinned. "You're not only a turned-on cunt, but I think you have the makings of a true sensualist."
"What does that mean?"
"Well, for one thing, it means that after you bring a man off and drain him of everything he's got, you can make him hot again immediately."
"How do I do that, like this?" She sat up and took his wrinkled cock in her hand.
"Oh, it takes much more than that. First you have to remove all my clothes," Ray said.
Emily pushed him back on the carpet and slowly removed his clothing. "Then what?" she asked.
"Remove yours next."
She peeled them off, then planting a foot on each side of his chest, stood over him, and opened the lips of her cunt with her fingers.
"Beautiful, beautiful," Ray cried. "You have the body of Venus. Now there are many ways to arouse a sated man, but one of the best is to love him orally-all over his naked body."
Emily was glad now that she had read all of her husband's dirty books. She dropped down on top of the frail man and pressed her wet cunt into his leg. Her assault began at his forehead, kissing and licking every inch of skin, her tongue seeking and entering every opening, no matter how tiny.
"Am I doing it right?" she asked, drawing her tongue from his mouth.
"Yes," Ray wheezed, "just keep it going."
Emily moved slowly down his chin and neck, her tongue wet and active. His whole body was hairless and bronze in color. His skin was smooth and flawless, even more so than her young boys had been. Emily had flipped; she felt hot and dirty and wonderful. As she sucked voraciously on one of his dark nipples, she ground her juicy cunt into his knee.
"I'll give you a trip around the world you'll never forget," she said, sliding her wet mouth down his stomach to his belly button. She had known all along what he wanted, having studied it carefully in one of Mack's sex manuals.
She stopped at the fringe of coal-black hair on his crotch and rolled him over. His back, buttocks and legs got the same treatment. She came back up his legs and spread his cheeks wide open. The job she did on his pungent ass-hole was less pleasant than she had hoped, but she performed brilliantly. When she finished with his bung and rolled him over, his cock was harder than a glass test tube.
"God Almighty, how could your sister have been so wrong," Ray gasped as Emily's hot mouth slid around his cock.
Emily drew up slowly and let it pop free. "She was wrong, and she wasn't wrong," she said. "I was cold, but it was because I was programmed for it. Not any more. I think I'm completely reprogrammed."
Her mouth played with his nuts, her tongue wetted them, her lips went back to his cock.
"I don't know if you're completely reprogrammed or not, but you're sure as hell programmed to suck cock," Ray said, trying desperately to hold back his second load. He failed. "I'm going to cum," he screamed.
"Wait a minute, I have a couple of tricks I haven't tried yet," Emily cried, raising her face.
"I can't wait," Ray groaned, spewing his ball stuff onto her face.
Emily tookhis cock back in and sucked out what he had left, then wiped at her lips with her tongue, salvaging as much of his goo as it would reach.
She got up and went to his desk. "Let's have another drink." His flask was empty. "Don't you have another bottle somewhere, I need a drink?"
"That's it, Em. I usually don't drink during the day," Ray answered, his voice flat and weak.
Emily went to her purse and got a cigarette. Since Ray was a non-smoker, she sat beside him and blew smoke in his face.
"Let's do it again. I want to feel your dick inside me one more time," Emily said. "I want to see if it really felt as good as I thought it did."
Ray let out a long groan. "Jesus Christ, Emily, my nuts are drained. I couldn't do it again; I doubt if I'll get a hard-on for a week."
"What about Miss Jenson?" Emily asked, grinning.
"What are you talking about?" Ray said, sitting up.
"I heard you proposition her for tonight, Ray, how could you do that to my baby sister?"
Ray looked dumbfounded. "What about us, now?"
"That's different; this is therapy. And maybe I did it to keep you from stepping out on Joanie."
Emily liked that idea. It had just occurred to her, but it eased her conscience. Yes, that was why she was so hot for Ray. To protect her baby sister. Her conscience was clear. She went back to work on Ray.
It wasn't a week before Ray got another hard-on; it was about twenty minutes. Emily straddled him and got all that he had, little as it was. She came very quickly on top, and then again, and again.
"I'd never have believed it possible," Ray cried as he popped his nuts for the third time.
Ray lay limply on the floor and watched Emily get dressed. "Miss Jenson won't be speaking to me tomorrow because there's no need to go see her now," he said.
"That's good. Go home to your little wife like a good husband."
"You won't ever let what we did slip to your sister, will you? Joanie saves herself just for me and she thinks I do the same. Don't tell her different."
"Why would I do that?" Emily said, turning her back so Ray couldn't see the smirk on her face.
Saves herself just for him, Emily thought, that's a real horse-laugh. She's probably jazzing the ice man right now. That's positively ridiculous, they have an electric refrigerator. It's got to be the Fuller Brush man, or the grocery boy, or an insurance salesman ... or maybe even the Avon lady, that Joanie's a pretty fucked up gal.
Emily turned sharply. "Ray ... never mind." She was going to tell him that his wife had been fucking anything in britches for quite some time, but changed her mind. Why give the great psychologist another hang-up? If he couldn't keep his wife satisfied with his dinky dick, he could always suck her off. God knows he was certainly deft at that. It made Emily's pussy twitch just to think about it.
Emily returned three times for more therapy. The third time she wouldn't let Ray stall it off until Miss Jenson had gone home. She tired of the ugly looks she got from the big-titted cunt when she came into the office. On that last time she opened the inter-com on Ray's desk so Miss Jenson could at least listen.
Afterward, she tried to tell him tactfully that his pigmy prick just wasn't doing the job any more-it was time to move up the ladder.
Ray was understandably hurt. First he grew angry and cursed her, then remorseful and shamed her, and finally shameless and begged her.
She refused as graceful as possible and walked out the door, stopping briefly at Miss Jenson's desk.
"I think the poor guy's about had it, honey, but he could probably manage a mouth job if you're really in a bad way," she said.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Emily had misgivings about dropping Ray, yet she knew it was the only thing to do. She was determined to enjoy sexual relations with her husband, and to accomplish this it meant she must move on to bigger and better things. She was now convinced that if they were bigger, they were better.
A week had gone by without any activity and she found that she was horny. It was a new experience for her to need sex, to want it terribly. Mack was rarely home, which didn't matter anyway because she couldn't manage him-yet, and she was still wary of just going out and picking up a man. Perhaps she could call Ray one more time; no, that wasn't the answer either. The kids. Never, that was past.
She decided she needed company to get her mind on other things, so she called her neighbor, Norma. The phone rang several times before she heard Norma's nasal twang in the receiver.
"Norma," Emily said, "come on over and have a drink with me. I need some company."
"Lord, Em, I'm beat. We were out late last night and I was just getting ready to take a nap."
"Take it over here. The patio is in the shade now and you know how you like to sprawl out in that big lounge chair of ours. I'm just getting ready to mix some tall, cool drinks, so come on over."
"Oh shit, Emily," Norma snorted. "Quit your begging, I'll be over in a minute. I promise I'll fall asleep on you, though."
"That's okay, I just feel the need to have someone around."
Emily decided on martinis instead of something tall and cool and mixed up a big batch, very, very dry.
"Good Lord, girl, those damn things will put me to sleep even quicker," Norma said, when she saw the shaker sitting on the small glass patio table. "Quick, gimme one."
Emily poured and handed Norma one. "Just settle back and relax, I don't mind, really, if you doze off."
"Good, because I know I will. If you're so lonely, where's all your family in your time of need?"
Emily shrugged her shoulders and drained her glass. "Mack is at work, as usual, and Angie, God, I haven't the faintest idea. I've barely seen her all summer."
As Emily poured herself another drink, the doorbell rang. "I'd better get it, even the help is gone," she said. She went through the house and opened the front door. It was Rolph, Norma's oldest boy, and another young man. A rather strange-looking young man with thick glasses and black curly hair. He was short and very stocky. Rolph was tall and fair.
"Hi, Mrs. F," Rolph said, "is my mom over here?" "Hello, Rolph. She's out on the patio, come on in."
Rolph had called her Mrs. F for years, and until now Emily had never thought anything about it. Now, with her new interest and knowledge of sex, it definitely had dirty connotations. Especially with the way Rolph looked at her. She liked the way he looked at her.
Without really realizing it, she rolled her ass just a little more than was necessary as the boys followed her through the house. She couldn't help but feel excited. These were big boys, not cub scouts.
"Mom," Rolph said when they got to the patio, "can I use the car? We want to go swimming."
"You're out of luck there. Your dad has the Caddy, and my car's in the garage. Goddamn T-Bird, it seems like it's in the garage all the time. What's the matter with Benny's car?"
Benny bent his head and stared sheepishly at his feet.
"The fuzz took his license," Rolph said.
"That's rough. Looks like you'll have to run through the sprinkler," Norma said with a laugh. She was the only one that appreciated her bit of humor.
"Why don't you guys use my pool. It's full of water and just waiting for someone," Emily said.
"Gee, that sounds great, Mrs. F, do you really mean it?" Rolph said.
"Rolph! I've told you a thousand times to call Emily Mrs. Foster," Norma shouted.
"Go get your suits on," Emily said to the boys. "Don't get shook, Norma. I don't mind."
"Well, I do," Norma snorted.
By the time the boys got back, Emily had smoothed Norma's ruffled feathers and had two more martinis. The boys dashed by with a shout. Rolph was tall and slim and very handsome. Benny was short and muscular and very homely.
Norma fell quickly to sleep, so Emily decided to go and watch the boys swim. As she neared the pool she heard the boys shouting, rather crudely, and stepped behind a bush.
"Hey, Ben, I gotta take a piss," Rolph shouted.
"Betcha can't piss halfway across the pool," Ben retorted.
Rolph leaped out of the water and pushed his trunks down on his thighs. Emily shivered and leaned forward for a better look.
"Keerist, Rolphy, you ain't got no cock at all," Benny taunted.
"Like hell I don't," Rolph yelled back. "It just shrivels up in the water. Reach down and feel yours, then watch this."
Benny dropped his hand between his legs while Rolph fondled his nub of a prick. It started to grow. It grew thicker and longer.
Emily stifled a gasp. It was bigger than Ray's, and Rolph wasn't even twenty.
"Jesus, I can't pee now. I'll have to let it go back down," Rolph said.
Benny moved out about a third of the way into the pool. "Betcha can't get it to here," he shouted.
"I'll pee right on your head, you dumb bastard," Rolph shouted back.
Rolph stepped to the edge of the pool and let go. Benny was sure he couldn't reach that far and didn't duck. The yellow jet arched out over the water and came down on Benny's head.
"You're pissing all over me, you dirty sonofabitch," Benny screamed, ducking under the water.
"I told you I could do it," Rolph shouted proudly.-He stood and sprayed the rest of his urine across the surface of the crystal clear water. Afterwards, he stood and jacked off until his cock stood rigid again.
The breath caught in Emily's throat. "I'm going swimming with those two delightful boys," she said to herself, and rushed back to the house.
She went up to her room and dug out a skimpy little bikini that she had bought years ago and never worn. The only time she had had it on was at the store before she bought it. It was much tighter than she had remembered. It covered very little of her generous body. Her tits seemed to bulge out everywhere, and the tiny bottom worked up into the crack of her ass. Her pubic hair, of which there was more than ample, refused to be confined and poked out liberally between her thighs. She stepped up and looked in the full length mirror.
"Good God," she moaned. "Have I put on that much weight?"
She had, and most of it had gone in the right places. She bulged and curved out where she was supposed to. She had to stop once on her way down the stairs to stuff a tit back inside the bra. The tight briefs only aroused her stimulated cunt more as they pulled into the hairy lips.
She sneaked past the sleeping Norma and streaked for the pool. Both boys stopped dead still in the water and stared as she came to the pool's edge.
"It's so hot and you guys sounded like you were having a ball, so I decided to take a dip, too," Emily said.
"Wow! You really look great, Mrs. F," Rolph cried.
"Yeah, I'll say," Benny said with a gulp. "Come on n, the water's fine, Mrs. F ... oster."
"Thank you, boys, I believe I will," Mrs. F said. She felt like Mrs. F with them leering at her near nude body. She tucked her hair into a cap and umped in.
The water felt glorious, cool and refreshing. She warn the length of the pool and grasped the edge at the deep end. Her breath was coming in short pants. The booze and tobacco had taken its toll over the years, especially since she was drinking and smoking considerably more now than in the past. She turned and waved at the ogling boys.
"Go ahead and have fun. I have to catch my breath. I'm afraid this is for young chicks, not old ladies," she called.
Rolph swam up beside her. "You're not an old lady, Mrs. F, old ladies don't do for a bikini what you do."
Emily blushed a little. "Why thank you, Rolph. You're sweet."
She clung to the side of the pool, her mammoth mammaries even with the water line. They seemed to float and hold her up like water wings. The dark brown ring around one nipple peeked provocatively above the edge of her bra. Benny was now treading water beside Rolph, his eyes glazed with desire for the beautiful Mrs. F.
"Why don't you race down to the other end. I'd like to see who is the fastest swimmer," Emily said.
While the boys were frothing water in their dash for the honor of being a winner, Emily untied the little strings that held the bottom half of her bikini together. They came loose, and with a couple of wiggles sunk to the bottom of the pool, along with her briefs.
Emily remembered the contented look on Marlene Speck's face the night of their party and wondered how it felt to fuck under water. She knew one thing-she was going to find out.
Benny won the race by a quarter of the pool and flopped onto the apron gasping for air.
"Bravo, Benny," Mrs. F cried. "Oh, Rolph, would you come back up here for a minute?"
Rolph swung around in the water and swam back. Not nearly so fast, this time. He grabbed at the edge, missed and went under. His second try was more successful.
"Rolph, I have a problem. I lost the bottom of my suit," Emily said softly.
Rolph looked down. In the clear water it was obvious. He quickly looked back up, blushing.
"It sunk to the bottom," she whispered.
"Do you want me to dive down and get it?"
"Not especially," Emily answered, looking him straight in the eyes.
Rolph hung to the edge, his mouth open. "Wha . . what do you want me to do?" he stammered.
Emily reached out and put her hand on his crotch. "You could take off yours."
Rolph turned beet red.
"Take off your trunks, Rolph," Emily said, squeezing his cock.
As if in a trance, Rolph pushed at his trunks. Once they cleared his crotch, Emily started masturbating him. His cock grew hard instantly.
"Kick them off, honey. Let them join mine on the bottom," she cooed.
"I ... I don't understand. Oooh, that feels good, Mrs. F," Rolph whined.
"I know what you mean by Mrs. F, Rolph. You just as well say it. Go ahead, call me Mrs. Fuck, because that's what I want you to do to me ... to fuck me."
Rolph was squirming wildly in the water. "Where ... where?"
"Right here in the pool. I'll grab hold of the edge and you come up close behind me and see if we can get it in."
"What about him?" Rolph asked, pointing at Benny at the other end.
"We'll be under water, hell never know. Now come on, get up real close." She faced the edge of the pool and hooked her arms on the cement ridge.
Rolph was excited now. He came up behind her, clinging to her with one hand while the other jabbed his cock between her legs. She arched back, her legs spread open, but his dick wouldn't go in.
"Oh shit, get it in. I need it," she snapped.
"I can't, it doesn't seem to be long enough."
He made several more attempts without any more luck. Benny watched from the other end, wondering what was going on.
Emily pushed him away. "Let me turn around, it'll be easier that way."
She turned around and locked her elbows over the edge, her body floating out to meet him. He came between her legs and grabbed the edge of the pool with one hand. With his other hand, he took his cock and pushed it against her cunt. After several misses, she felt it enter her and wrapped her legs around his back.
"Get it all in, Rolph. Get it all in and fuck me ... good!" Emily moaned.
Rolph had both hands on the edge of the pool now and pushed his cock into her. She held him tight with her stout legs, moving her crotch against his as he stroked.
"It's so big, Rolphy," she sighed. "It feels so good."
Benny was no fool. He saw what was going on and quickly swam to the deep end. He got out of the water and sat on the edge watching, his cock pushing mightily against his trunks.
Emily dropped her head back and saw Benny sitting there. "Oh, Benny, Rolph does it so good. I'm about to cum."
Benny couldn't believe it. He had never been around when anything like this happened before. He stood up and shrugged his wet trunks off. His cock was bigger than Rolph's, as big as most men's, and hard as stone. He sat back down as close to the fucking pair as he could get.
Emily's eyes were glassy. She looked at Benny and cried, "Feel my breasts, Benny, I'm starting to cum!"
Benny's hand dipped into her tiny, overfilled bra, his cock pressed against her soft arm. One whole tit came free. Benny dropped his mouth over the hard, jutting nipple.
Almost bumping heads with Benny, Rolph jerked and twisted in the water, his hot stuff pouring into Emily's belly. "Christ on a crutch!" Rolph howled. "Mrs. Fuck! Fuck, fuck! Oh, Mrs. Fuck, I'm cumming, I'm cumming!"
With Benny sucking her nipple and Rolph cumming inside her, Emily had her second orgasm. It was so numbing that she would have sunk lifelessly into the pool if Benny hadn't held her.
Rolph disengaged himself, and with considerable effort, draped his long frame over the edge of the pool. Emily slowly slipped deeper in the water.
The muscular Benny grabbed her under the arms and pulled her out. He stood her up and removed her bra. "Let's go lay on the grass," he said, leading her away from the gasping Rolph.
Benny pushed her down on the carpet-like lawn and stretched out beside her. He cupped her cunt in his hand and buried his face in her tits. His finger discovered her squishy hole and pushed in.
"Oh, Benny, not yet, let me rest first," Emily moaned in protest. Yet, she pushed against his probing finger. Her cunt sucked it in. His finger was thick. "Ooooh, Benny!"
Her passion returned quickly, especially when he guided her hand to his throbbing organ. It was only about five inches long, but it too was thick, very thick. It filled her hand.
"Benny, Benny, it's so fat," she gurgled, "I want it, I do want it now ... fuck me, Benny."
Benny was ready. He removed his finger from her cum-filled cunt and looked at it glistening in the sunlight. He stuck it in his mouth, tasting his buddy's cum, and crawled onto her sprawled-out body. Fitting his knob between the thick, hairy lips, he dropped his weight onto the luscious soft flesh of Mrs. Fuck. Her knees came up and his fat pecker slid all the way in.
Emily didn't know why, but Benny's cock felt better than any she had ever had. Perhaps it was because the stocky, almost ugly boy subconsciously reminded her of the massively hung dwarf. She gurgled with contentment, drool wetting her lips and chin.
"Kiss me, Hunchy, kiss me," she begged.
Benny pressed his lips to her wet mouth and drew in her offered tongue. He felt flattered and hotter than ever when she called him Hunchy, thinking it was a term of endearment because he was humping her so good.
Emily couldn't control her thoughts; she fantasized that the huge bulbous head of Hunchy's cock was spitting its filth into her salivating mouth. Emily had never been one for sexual fantasy, not until after witnessing the scene in the stable, now it was a regular thing. It had turned the unrewarding dissatisfaction of masturbation into a delightful experience, exceeded only by a real live cock.
Emily returned to the living, savoring his tongue in her mouth and his cock in her pussy.
"Benny, Benny, you're so good," she moaned, lifting her hips with every inward stroke.
"Oh, God, Mrs. F, I'm going to cum in a minute," Benny cried.
"Pull it out before you do and cum on my legs, I want to feel it," Emily gasped.
"I want to cum inside you," Benny protested.
"Please, please, cum on my legs, I'll let you have me again if you do ... any time you want."
At the last instant, Benny reluctantly jerked his prick out, his copious load cumming in gobs. He directed it high on her thighs.
"Don't miss, don't get any on the grass, get it all on me," Emily cried.
Benny thought she was nuts, but what the hell, anything to please the lady. He grabbed his cock and wiped the last of his goo in her thick, silky pussy-hair.
Emily reached down with her hand and collected the gunk from her thigh. She rubbed it into her pussy, her fingers growing more frantic with each pressing movement. Her whole body shuddered and she ground into her crotch with her knuckles.
"I'm cumming, Benny! Oh, God, am I ever," she moaned through clenched teeth.
Emily finally sat up and slipped her hand under his crotch. His balls felt cool; his cock felt hot. She started kissing him on his chest, sucking fervently at his flat nipples. His pecker stiffened in her hand.
"Do you want to go again?" he asked.
"I'll tell you what, darling," she cooed softly, nuzzling at his belly button, "if you should be taking a walk down Fulton Street at eight o'clock this evening, I just might be going for a drive and pick you up. We'd both enjoy it more then."
"Yeah, and I could be a lot better then, too," Benny said, beaming. Benny jumped up and ran over to the pool. "Hey, Rolph, I gotta be goin', " he yelled, pulling on his trunks.
Rolph came over to where Emily lay in the grass. He looked around furtively. "Where is my mom?" he asked.
"She's sound asleep on the patio." "Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure," Emily said, smiling up at the tall boy.
Rolph sat down beside her, his hands roaming over her naked body. They talked for a while. Somewhere along the line the talking stopped and Emily drew the boy between her legs. She quickly raised a hard-on for him and slipped it inside her cunt and wrapped her arms and legs around his back. She rocked sensuously beneath him, erotic visions dancing through her head.
Rolph lasted a long time, bringing Emily off twice. Five times, it was a high for her, something to shoot at. Rolph finally shot his nuts off, got up and left without saying a word. Emily drifted off into a light slumber.
Emily rolled onto her back and opened her eyes. Norma, stood looking down at her.
"Do you sleep out here in the nude often?" Norma asked, a hint of reproof in her voice.
Emily stretched and sat up. "No, not really, but after the boys left, the water looked so inviting that I decided to take a swim, and after that, a sunbath. Care to join me?"
"Thanks, but no thanks," Norma snorted.
"Let's go in the house and have a drink then," Emily said.
"I'd better scoot, dear. Sidney is taking me out tonight for a change, and I have a pack meeting tomorrow. I have to prepare for the goddamn little monsters."
I'll bet you don't prepare for them like I would, Emily thought, a tingle running through her body.
Emily went into the house and made herself a drink, then went to her room and took a nap. It was dusk when she awakened. She showered and fixed her hair, powdered and perfumed all the right places, and got dressed.
On her way out, Emily stopped and looked into Angie's room. Angie was laying on her bed reading a magazine. She glanced up and waved at her mother.
"Hi, mom, have a good nap?" Angie said.
"Excellent," Emily answered. "Have you had supper, hon? "
"Yeah, cook made me a sandwich."
"I think I'll go for a drive, care to go along?"
"Nah," Angie snorted. "That wouldn't be any fun."
"You kids. Think you know it all, don't you?" "Enjoy yourself," Angie said, returning to her magazine.
Enjoy myself, Emily thought, I sure as hell will. I'm going to have a ball, two of them in fact.
She stopped and had a drink before leaving the house. On her empty stomach it made her dizzy. She went to the garage and backed out the big Caddy. The Mercedes was just too damn small for what she had in mind. The top was already down on the big convertible and the sun, almost lost behind the horizon, still felt warm on the back of her neck.
She saw Benny from a block away. He was barefooted and shirtless, wearing only a pair of cutoff jeans. As she bore down on the broad-shouldered youth, shivers of anticipation ran down her spine. She was approaching him from behind, yet in her mind's eye she could see him perfectly. His broad, flat, well-muscled chest, smooth and hairless; his equally flat face with its piggish snout; his too-large teeth, just a little brown from smoking too much; the thick, convex glasses that gave him a sinister look; and the heavy concentration of adolescent pimples. It was a combination that made him beautifully ugly, repulsive even.
As she eased the car to the curb beside him, she could feel the moisture gathering high between her thighs. She was wearing a skirt and blouse and nothing else. Unless, of course, you considered such things as a pair of flats on her feet, wedding rings on her fingers, and the dainty gold chain around her neck with the tiny cross hidden snugly between a pair of mountainous tits. Tits whose nipples were already firm with expectation.
"Fancy meeting you here, Benny," Emily said.
"Would you like a lift?"
"Hi, Mrs. F," Benny answered, climbing in beside her. "I was almost afraid you wouldn't show."
Mrs. F lifted the tail of her skirt high above her hips. "I'll show you anything you want to see, darling."
"You have a beautiful cunt, Mrs. F," Benny said.
"All the better to fuck you with," Mrs. F answered. "Slide over closer, darling, and we'll go somewhere where its more secluded."
Benny slid over until their hips were touching. Before driving off, Emily reached down, opened the front of his jeans all the way, and took out his cock. It zoomed from half-hard to full erection inside her hot little hand. Benny decided that the pocket pool he had been playing to keep himself hot had been frivolous and totally unnecessary.
Benny slid his hand under her skirt. She opened her legs as far as they would go under the circumstances. Her cunt was hot and wet. Emily shivered. She wasn't sure, but maybe she came as soon as his fingers touched her. If not, she decided it was close enough, anyway. Six times so far today; not bad. She roared away from the curb, Benny's cock pulsing inside her hand.
She whipped the car into Bill and Clara Ramsey's driveway and cut the engine. Bill and Clara were in Colorado fishing. The driveway was long and lined with shrubbery. She let the seat go back all the way, providing plenty of room.
Benny quickly removed her skirt and opened her blouse. "May I kiss it, Mrs. F? I've always wanted to taste pussy, ever since I saw my dad eating my cousin's cunt at a family reunion."
"Christ yes, Benny ... I thought you'd never ask,"
Emily said, bringing both legs onto the car seat.
Benny lowered his head, hesitating just inches from her strongly ripe pussy.
"Eat it, you little bastard," Emily cried, grabbing him by the ears.
His tongue was rough, like course sandpaper, and like the rest of him, thick. He made good use of it, too. He had complete access to her, since one of her feet was on the floorboard and the other was over the back of the seat, spreading her as wide as was possible. She slipped lower and lower in the seat, pressing herself against his mouth.
"Oh, God, you do that good, Benny," she moaned, "don't ever stop."
She almost wished Angie had come with her. In her randy, out-of-control condition she wanted to see Benny eat her daughter's cunt. And, it was a new idea for her, shove his fat cock up her cute little ass-hole. Emily stiffened at the thought, no doubt in her mind whether she was cumming or not this time.
She gritted her teeth and grunted low in her throat. "Seven, seven, seven," she moaned.
Raising herself up a little, she pushed Benny's head from between her thighs. "God, Benny, I really made it that time."
"You mean I really brought you off with my mouth?" Benny asked proudly.
"You sure did, baby. Now lay back-in the seat, mama's hungry." She looked into Benny's eyes. "You would like me to suck you off, wouldn't you?"
"Shit yes," Benny cried, getting himself in position.
Emily lowered her head and blew her warm breath over his balls. "Benny?" she queried.
"Yes, Mrs. Fuck," Benny answered lewdly.
"Would you like to fuck my daughter?" "You mean Angie?" "Angie's the only daughter I have." "Hell yes, I'd like to fuck Angie. She's a real sexpot."
Emily licked the clear juice hanging at the end of his cock. "Maybe we could arrange it. I think she'd like a nice fat pecker like yours."
"Wow, I always thought sweet little Angie was a virgin," Benny said. "Are you telling me she isn't?"
Emily hesitated before answering. "No, Benny, I'm afraid she isn't, Angie has been fucked before ... many times. In fact, I'm sure that if you tried, you could get into her pants without any help from me," Emily said, almost ashamed of her answer.
She lowered her mouth around Benny's cock. For some perverted reason it made it better imagining Benny taking her young daughter out because he knew she was an easy lay. She decided to suggest it to Rolph, too. God, she could fix all kinds of guys up at the Foster Fuck Factory. Her hungry mouth pulled at Benny's thumping cock with a vengeance.
Benny was no longer thinking about Angie, or Mrs. F, for that matter. He was imagining it was his own mother tooting on his horn, his own sweet, plump, sexing-looking mother. He couldn't understand why his dad fucked his aunt when his own wife was so much better looking. He knew pop screwed his mom's sister, too, because he had watched them twice. Once in the toilet while his mom was in the kitchen, just two rooms away. He had always wondered if he could get into his aunt, now he was sure he could. He decided to try next time she flaunted herself at him.
Emily felt his cock creep deeper in her mouth. His cum slammed into her throat, hot and heavy. She almost gagged, then eased his cock back and drew his slime into her mouth in one long string. It was good and she devoured it all.
"Lay back and relax, honey," she cooed in his ear, "and well do it like it was intended before I take you home."
It was over an hour before she could get the exhausted boy up again, but it was worth every minute. She opened the door on her side and had him stretch out on his back, his feet sticking out the open door, and straddled his standing rod. It went right in, and by sitting up straight, she could get it all, right down to the last centimeter. Benny lay calmly still and let her do the work.
"Oh, my God, I don't believe it," she cried, her lips quivering, "I'm going to cum already."
They had only been going for a minute, yet her orgasm rocked up her spine.
"Goddamn, but I love that feeling! Eight times in one day, care to try for nine?" she cried, bouncing on his prong.
Number eight had just begun to subside when number nine rolled over it. She fell forward across the boy's chest, making sure to keep his cock imbedded in her cunt.
"Sweet shit, Benny, cum ... cum, I can't stand any more!"
Benny came, and Emily fainted. Her tenth orgasm of the day was just too much, it jarred her clear down to the tips of her toes.
Benny slipped back into his cutoffs and Emily put on her blouse. She wadded up her skirt, stuffed it tightly against her crotch, and backed out of Bill and Clara Ramsey's driveway. She dropped him off in front of his house.
He got out without answering and she drove off. "I'll never get another hard-on as long as I live," he muttered.
Benny saw his aunt's car in the driveway. He felt a distinct stirring in his over-taxed loins. "Not tonight, I just can't do it again," he said, and walked up the street past his home.
What Benny didn't know was that it wasn't his aunt; it was his uncle Henry. And Uncle Henry had Benny's sweet, plump mamma in the guest bedroom. He was fucking the living shit out of her, and she loved it.
Emily went straight home and up to her room, leaving her rumpled skirt on the garage floor beside the car. She mixed herself a tall, strong Scotch and water. It went directly to her head.
She sat in a daze on the edge of her bed. Why do I always overdo it? she wondered. Ten mother-fucking times in one day is just too much. Why not spread it out? Never again, I'm through with the whole sordid thing. It's not worth it, even for Mack. She had convinced herself it was all for Mack.
Emily made herself another drink and promptly passed out.
She had an erotic dream about Hunchy the horrible hunchback. In her dream, his cock was two feet long. She took it all and came in her sleep. For the eleventh time.
CHAPTER NINE
It was almost two days after her wild orgasm orgy before Emily began to feel normal. Her hangover had been shattering and her pussy was raw and sore. She made a vow: no more booze, no more cocks. She had been contented before her fucking spree, and she could be contented again.
By the evening of the third day, she cursed herself; she was horny again. She mixed herself a Scotch and water and sat down to read a magazine. One story and two Scotches later, she knew she couldn't keep the second half of her vow, either.
Angie came bouncing down the stairs all decked out in a pair of overalls. "Hi, Mom, going out," she called.
"Just a minute, young lady," Emily said sternly. "You don't mean to tell me you're going out like that?"
"Of course, Mom. Don't be a jerk, it's the latest thing."
"Where, might I ask, are you going? You never even ask if you can go any more."
"To a dance. I have a date with a groovy new guy."
Emily shrugged her shoulders, feeling like a failure. "Don't stay out too late," she said. Or get laid too many times, she added under her breath.
"Hey, Mom, before I go, guess what I heard," Angie said.
"Just tell me, you know I hate guessing games."
"Well, you know that little Miss Rich-bitch, Rhonda Devonshire went to Europe-"
"Yes, of course I know. Her mother told me," Emily said, making no attempt to hide her irritation.
"It's not true, not at all. They shipped her upstate-to have a baby."
"Angie! How can you say such a thing?"
"I can't say where I heard it, but it's true, you can bank on it," Angie said with a smirk.
"I don't believe it. If Rhonda was pregnant, and I can't believe that she was, they'd have gotten her an abortion."
"Old lady Devonshire is archaic, she doesn't believe in abortion."
"What are they going to do with the baby?" Emily asked, believing in spite of herself.
"Adopt it out, I guess. No big deal," Angie said. "Well, got to run, I hear Teddy's car in the drive."
Emily sat dumbfounded. Hunchy's baby? My God, had that horrible freak knocked up Rhonda Devonshire? If he had, it certainly didn't bother Ruth, she was still putting out for the little monster. Emily knew that for a fact, she had watched them. She couldn't help but wonder what the baby would look like. Would it be a hunchback, too? Would they adopt it out? Emily wondered what it would feel like to get knocked up by Hunchy.
The doorbell rang. Emily jerked up from her reverie. It seemed like only minutes had gone by, although Angie had been gone for almost two hours. "Hunchy's baby, I can't believe it," she muttered, and went to the door.
A tall, slim, rather frail-looking boy stood in the doorway. With him was Angie, or so it appeared. Her head hung loosely forward, her chin resting firmly on her chest. The nervous looking young man was doing his best to keep her from falling.
"Who are you? Is that Angie with you? Is she hurt?" Emily cried, reaching out to help support the girl.
"It's Angie, Mrs. Foster, and no, she isn't hurt," the boy said weakly.
"What's the matter with her?"
"I'm afraid she's had too much to drink, ma'am."
"Oh, my God," Emily said, stepping out beside her limp daughter. "Well, let's get her in the house. You didn't tell me who you are."
"I'm Chad Winters, ma'am, and I'm awful sorry to bring Angie home like this, but I just didn't know what else to do."
"Black coffee and twenty turns around the block would have been a damn sight better than to bring her home like this for me to see," Emily snapped. "Fine thing, you take a fifteen-year-old girl out for the first time and get her dead drunk. What kind of a boy are you? "
"Fifteen?" Chad yelped, "she told me she was nineteen, and I didn't get her drunk. They was spikin' the punch at the dance and I couldn't keep her out of it. I couldn't keep her away from other fellers, either. She's a helluva flirt."
"Boy, you're a real Sir Galahad, aren't you, Chad Couldn't even lie for her and say you made her ge drunk. Well, don't just stand there like you're stupic help me get her up to bed."
"Yes, ma'am," Chad said and gulped.
Chad really wasn't much help, but they got her u the stairs anyway. On the landing Angie lifted he head and opened her bleary eyes. "Hi, Mom, ja mee Shad? he's helluva nice guy," she said, and promptly passed out again.
They got her in on the bed. Emily pulled the covers back and started taking off Angie's shoes Chad inched toward the door.
"Where do you think you're going, mister?" Emily barked. "You stay right here in case I need you."
Chad stopped short and shoved his hands in hi pockets. He was wearing overalls, too. He wa raw-boned and skinny, with a nose far too big for hi homely face. Emily, for the life of her, couldn't see why Angie would even give him a second look. He had stringy, mustard-colored hair down to hi shoulders, too.
"Are you new in town? I've never seen you around before," Emily asked.
"No, I've lived here all my life, ma'am."
"I wish you'd knock that ma'am crap off. Wha does your father do?"
"He's not rich like you folks, he's a minister. Ove on the west side of town."
"Christ, a holy roller, what the hell's the matter with Angie's taste?" Emily snorted. "You mean your father's a preacher and he lets you run around looking like that?"
"He really can't say how I run around, I'm ove twenty-one."
Emily turned and looked at him. "You're over twenty-one? And taking out a girl of fifteen?"
"I thought she was nineteen. That's what she told me," he whined.
"Shit. You can look at her and see she isn't nineteen," Emily said, turning back to her daughter.
Emily unsnapped the buckles on the overalls and pulled them down. Angie was wearing a blouse with puffy sleeves that came down to her navel. Below that, there was nothing. Emily stopped for an instant when Angie's black pubic hair popped into view, then jerked the overalls down to her feet and flung them across the room. She turned and looked at Chad, who was staring at Angie's pubic bush. The gobs of dark hair stood out in stark contrast on the girl's white crotch. Chad couldn't help himself, he licked his lips.
"What do you know, my daughter doesn't wear any underwear," Emily said, looking Chad in the eye. "Let's see if she wears a bra on her little, fifteen-year-old tits."
Emily didn't know why she was doing this, it was like a fever, she couldn't control it. Displaying her young daughter's body to this boy was a horrible thing to do. It made her all hot and itchy between her thighs.
She lifted Angie up and pulled the blouse over her head. Angie wasn't wearing a bra either, and her little fifteen-year-old tits weren't really so little. They were fine young humps of flesh with large, dark nipples. She released her grip and Angie flopped back onto the bed.
"Take a good look, lover boy," Emily said sarcastically, "and see what you missed by letting her get so drunk so quick."
Chad was beet red. He fidgeted from one foot to the other. It was obvious he wasn't used to this kind of thing. How the hell could he be, after all, he was a preacher's kid.
"You're blushing, Chad. What's the matter, never seen a naked girl before?"
"Yeah, sure, but never ... but..." he stammered.
Emily reached out and grabbed his hand and pulled him close to the bed. She took one of Angie's legs and pulled it away from its mate.
"Care for a feel, honey?" she asked, a lewd grin slashing across her face.
"Ma'am, Mrs. Foster, you're puttin' me on."
"like hell I am," Emily said, pulling on his arm and laying his hand on Angie's cunt. "It's no big deal, Chad Winters, she's been felt up before."
Chad was scared stiff and shaking like a leaf, still, his fingers worked through the hair until he felt her moist cunt. Angie rolled her head on the pillow and moaned.
"Feel her up good," Emily cried, pressing his fingers into Angie's crotch. "Put your finger in her cunt, Chad."
Chad obeyed. His finger moved up into Angie's well-used pussy.
"Finger-fuck her, Chad. Finger-fuck her and make her hot," Emily screamed, her lust out of control now.
Chad wasn't sure what was going on, his own lust doing his thinking for him. He only knew that he was finger-fucking a beautiful, young, passed-out girl. Anc he didn't give a damn if it was wrong, not now. He put his other hand on her soft, full breasts.
He felt something at his crotch and looked down in time to see Emily's hand shaking his rampaging pecker from the front of his overalls. His cock was long and thin and the head came almost to a point. It was curved in the middle so much that it was almost a half a circle.
"Oh, God," Emily gurgled, "I never realized they were all so different. It's wonderful, every guy's cock is completely different from every other guy's cock. I want to see them all." Emily was talking more to herself than to Chad. Her mouth watered; she wanted that long, curved prong inside her snatch.
"Would you like to fuck Angie, Chad? Right here on her own little bed," Emily asked him, sliding her hand back and forth on his cock.
"Oh, oh, ma'am, Mrs. Foster ... I ... I don't know how. I never done it before."
"You poor boy," Emily gushed. "You don't know what you've been missing. Take off your clothes, honey, and I'll teach you. You can practice on me first. You'll never learn any younger."
Emily was already peeling off her dress. She undid her bra and pushed her panties down her long legs. Chad stood dumbfounded, his scimitar of a cock jutting out in front of him. Emily grabbed his overalls and started unbuckling them.
"Get your clothes off, you boob," she wailed.
His overalls crumpled to the floor and Emily tugged his Jockey's down his thin, bony legs. She wanted to take his odd-looking pecker in her mouth and suck some of the salty pre-cum out, but due to his inexperience she was afraid he would cum immediately, and she wanted it in her cunt worse. She stretched out on the bed beside Angie and opened her thighs.
"Get your shirt off and lay down on top of me. I'm soft and warm all over. You'll love it."
The preacher's kid tore off his shirt, popping three buttons in the process. He was nothing but bones covered with skin from head to foot. The only outstanding thing about him was his long, curved prick. He dropped down on top of her.
Emily couldn't wait, she grabbed his throbbing rod and stuffed it inside her horny pussy entrance. "Shove it all the way in, honey. Hard and fast, I'm wet and ready all the way up to my tonsils."
Chad obliged and jammed his pointed pecker home. Emily screamed. It hurt, but for the first time in her life, it hurt good. He was in to the root, and started stroking like a master, not a rank amateur.
"Ooh, Chad, that feels so good. You weren't lying to me, were you, it is your first time?"
"I wasn't lying," he answered, banging with skill.
"Don't cum too quick."
"I never cum too quick, ma'am. I masturbate a lot, usually three or four times a day, and I have control. Once I held off over an hour, and I never stopped pulling on it once."
"Maybe in your fist, honey," Emily moaned, "but you ll never last anywhere near an hour inside little Emily's cunt."
She threw her legs around his back and bounced her ass. She thought she would die, it felt so good. His crazy curved prick felt like it was arcing up inside her sheath and would poke out into the open through her belly button. She came hard, very hard, and Chad fucked on.
"Don't you ever cum?" Emily gasped, fifteen minutes and another orgasm later.
"I told you I could control it," Chad said proudly. "I think about other things. Right now I'm going over one of dad's old sermons."
"Shit, it's no fun that way," Emily snorted.
"Relax, and let nature take its course. Come on, pour your stuff into mamma's pussy ... wait, I have a better idea. Climb off me and finish in Angie."
"I'd like that," Chad said nonchalantly, and pulled his slippery dick out.
Emily decided she wanted it back, but he wouldn't give it back. He rolled off and spread Angie's thighs apart. He stood on his knees between her legs and looked at her cunt. He bent down and sniffed at the daintily-haired lips.
"I've always wanted to do this," he said, wetting her slit generously with his tongue. "Besides, my dong'll go in a lot easier if it's wet, good and wet.
He lapped at her cunt until he thought she was ready. Then, without any assistance from Emily, he plunged his cock into her belly. Emily watched with fascination while the funny looking young man fucked her unconscious daughter.
Even though she had already cum twice, Emily felt herself getting hot again. Chad was in to his balls, humping like mad, and still he didn't cum.
Angie started to groan and move in time with his strokes. With a moan she grew rigid and started cumming, tossing her head from side to side. She was still out like a light.
Chad worked on, his whole body covered with sweat now. A tiny cry escaped Angie's lips and she grimaced in pain.
"Hurry up and cum, Chad, you're hurting her," Emily cried.
"I can't, ma'am. I can't seem to cum like this."
"Well, pull out then, and I'll finish you off. I don't want you to hurt my little girl," the concerned mother said. She wanted more of his cock, too.
Chad jerked his dick out and collapsed on the bed between Angie and Emily. Emily got him on his back and straddled him. His cock went right in, and Emily came ... hard. With a moan she sank down, forcing his dick inside to the root. She worked over the boy until another orgasm rocked her soul. Weak and fucked out, Emily rolled off. She had had enough.
"Good Christ, Chad, you're not human," she gasped.
"I just can't get the dang thing off this way. I'm sorry ma'am," Chad apologized. "Guess I been doin' it with my hand too much." He wrapped his skinny fingers around his bone. "I just as well finish it off."
"Here, let me do it for you," Emily said, pushing his hand away. "Now don't think about something else, think about cumming. Think about cumming in my mouth. Think about shooting your filthy spunk down my throat. I'll drink every drop."
Emily sat up and wrapped her mouth around the pointed knob. She sucked with her mouth and pumped with her hand. Chad started groaning; his toes were twitching, too.
"It's gonna work, ma'am," he squealed. "Oh, sweet Jesus, I'm gonna cum, am I ever gonna cum. Swallow it, lady, swallow it all. I want my cum juice running down your perverted throat. You horrible, sex-crazed old lady, suck my nuts dry. Oh, goddamn, goddamn!"
Chadwick Winters popped. His nuts boiled up and sent a load of slime slamming into her mouth that would drown a horse. Emily thought she would choke to death. It was more of that hot, horrible-wonderful gunk than she thought any cock could ever spew. Her throat burned with the uniquely spicy fluid. Raw whiskey was smoother.
After she sucked his nuts dry, he got up and put his clothes back on. He bent down and pressed his mouth to her cunt. He sucked and licked at her gooie channel. Emily spread her legs wide. His mouth felt good there.
He stood up straight and pointed his finger at her. "You're a wanton Jezebel, and you'll surely go to hell, ma'am. I'm goin' home and tell my old man what happened to me tonight, and when he gets done with his sermon, which should last the rest of the night, I'm goin' to my room and jack off. It ain't near as messy as this other way. I learned one thing tonight-fuckin' just ain't all it's cracked up to be."
He turned on his heel and left.
Emily got up and went into the bathroom and got a bowl of warm water and a soft cloth. She came back and sponged Angie off. The contented, angelic look on Angie's face as Emily smoothed the covers up over her made her feel terribly guilty. They were both monsters and she knew it. Emily gathered up her clothing and went to her own room. She took a mouthful of straight Scotch and swallowed it in one gulp to clean the scum from her esophagus. She dropped off to sleep with surprising ease.
Mack came in about an hour later, and for the first time in weeks, crawled into bed with her. She slept soundly, not even realizing he was there.
The next morning, Emily awoke to find her husband beside her. He was sawing logs. She pushed the covers down and ran her hand over his huge, muscular chest. He smiled in his sleep. Pushing the covers on down, she saw that he was naked except for a pair of very sheer women's bloomers. His massive pecker lay up over his belly under the silk. Even soft it strained against its confinement.
"Oh, God, I know I can't take it yet," Emily said softly, "even after all I've been through."
She reached inside the waist band and skinned the foreskin back. It hardened immediately. She withdrew her hand and grasped it tightly. Wrapped snugly in silk, she started to jack him off. With her newly acquired sensuality, she sensed he was close and put her lips over the opening hole in his glans. She strained his cum through the panties and once again drank the stuff of man. Somehow, it tasted much better filtered through expensive silk.
"Suck it all out, baby," he moaned in his sleep. "I won't need it at home, anyway."
Emily pulled the sheet up over her husband and went into the bathroom. She couldn't look at herself in the mirror; she was afraid the mark of Jezebel would be too plain to see. She sat on the crapper instead and peed.
"You're a depraved pervert, Emily Foster, rotten to the core ... and it's all Uncle Lester's fault. If he hadn't molested you, you could have grown up a normal, healthy girl, instead of ... of a Mrs. Fuck," Emily said.
She dabbed at her pussy with a piece of tissue and felt better now that she had blamed her weakness on someone else. It was a consoling thought not to be responsible for your own actions.
She slipped on a robe and went down to the kitchen. She came back up the stairs with a tall, chilled glass of tomato juice. Angie would surely have a terrible hangover after last night.
Emily sat on the bed beside her daughter and gently shook her awake. Angie opened her eyes, only to slam them shut again.
"How do you feel, darling?" Emily asked.
"I feel awful, mother, just awful," Angie wailed.
"Sit up and drink this tomato juice, honey. .It might help a little."
Angie sat up and took the glass from her mother's hand. It went shakily to her quivering lips. It didn't help much, but it seemed to momentarily quell her sour, tumbling stomach.
"I'm sorry, Mother, I shouldn't have gotten that way," Angie said. "What must Chad think. He's a preacher's kid, you know."
"Don't worry about Chad, just finish your juice and lay back down."
Angie handed the empty glass back to Emily and carefully eased her pounding head back onto the pillow. She looked up at her mother with her big round eyes. "Did you put me to bed, Mother?" she asked.
"Yes, dear."
"Thank you, Mom."
"That's what mothers are for, darling. Now you go back to sleep for a while."
"Wait, don't leave yet," Angie cried, a grimace of pain crossing her face from the intensity of her own voice. "I had the strangest dream ... a wet dream ... maybe I shouldn't tell you."
"You can tell me anything, dear."
Angie drew herself up into a ball and looked at her mother for several minutes, then said, "I dreamed I was in my own bed with a guy. We were naked, and...." She blushed and looked away. ". . . And he was doing it to me. Oh, Mom, it felt so good. You're not mad at me for having a dream like this, are you? Should I go on?"
"Yes, go on," Emily said softly.
"Well, he had the funniest shaped ... uh, thing, and when it went up inside me it curved like a half moon and felt like it was going to poke out through my belly button. Can you believe such a stupid thing, Mom?"
I sure as hell can, Emily thought. That's exactly the same sensation I had when it went up inside me. Both times.
"It's so dumb, but I came so hard. It was heavenly, and it still seems so real, even now. Is it wrong to dream like that, Mom? Am I bad?"
"No, you're not bad, Angie," Emily said, then thought, like hell. "It's natural for adolescents to have erotic dreams, even wet ones. I wouldn't worry about it. I'd better let you sleep now."
Emily got up and started to leave the room. Angie sat up and called to her.
"I'm normal, then?"
Emily turned. "Yes, dear, you're normal.
As normal as any other red-blooded, hot-pants young cunt that-likes hard pricks, regardless of the man's age. I was totally innocent at her age; what will she be like when she reaches my age? Emily shuddered at the thought.
Emily went back to her room and sat down at her dressing table. She avoided looking directly into her face in the mirror. She was brushing her hair when Mack awakened.
"Mornin', Em," he said, dropping his feet to the floor beside the bed.
"Good morning, Mack. I must have been sound asleep when you came in, I don't even remember your coming to bed."
"Yeah, you were really out. I was quiet so I wouldn't wake you up. It was pretty late," Mack said, yawning and stretching out his great arms.
"That was sweet of you, darling," Emily answered sweetly.
She didn't say anything about it being the first time he'd slept with her in quite some time. She didn't mention that he was wearing women's panties. And, she kept still about nibbling at his silk-encased pecker until he shot his load in her mouth, too.
Mack looked down at the big stain in the front of his bloomers. He cursed softly.
"What's the matter, dear?" Emily asked.
"Nothing, just had a cramp in my big toe."
He stood up and turned away from her. He pulled the panties out; his cock came with them, stuck tight. He smiled a pained smile as he pulled his cock loose. He inspected the peeled back knob to see if there was any damage. It was okay. He smiled and pulled the foreskin back up.
Goddamn, I had a wet dream, he thought. It doesn't seem possible with all the pussy I've been getting. You'd think I was twenty-one. I wish I could remember my dreams, I'll bet it was a real lulu.
"I'm gonna go take a shower, he said, pushing the panties down his legs. He left them laying where he stepped out of them.
CHAPTER TEN
After the incident with Angie, Emily decided to swear off sex, take the pledge, so to speak. And she was going to do it cold turkey. No more peter, and that was that.
She busied herself with other things, throwing her energy to management of the household and servants-yet, sex predominited her thoughts. She fought mightily against her foul thoughts, but she even glanced at the gardener's crotch to see if she could imagine the shape of his cock and how big it might be. She caught herself looking at men on the street, wondering what their penises looked like, felt like, even tasted like.
She started going to the country club in the afternoon for a drink, but the bartender had a pecker-she knew he did. The waiters, the golf pro, the groundskeeper, even the boy who parked cars, they all were endowed ... and she wondered how? Her fantasies mounted, perhaps one of them even had a whang with a curly-Q in it.
She avoided drinking too much at the club because she knew if she did, she would get laid, and by the first male that approached her. Her panties grew damp every time she saw a man, and if his pants were tight and showed the outline of his cock, she almost swooned.
A hard cock wasn't just important to her anymore-it was everything! She saw them when she was asleep and she saw them when she was awake. She was miserable.
After four weeks Emily began to calm down. She wasn't out of the woods yet, but her gnawing ache for cock wasn't constant anymore, only occasional. For a while she had thought she was going to go out of her mind with need. Even during her period she had wanted cock. She felt a great relief now that she could think of other things without her lust choking them from her mind.
It was Saturday morning, a beautiful fall Saturday morning, and she felt wonderful. Mack had left the house early to go golfing so she decided to do some shopping, she needed some new clothes, anyway.
Emily had all but forgotten their near argument of the night before. For another first in quite some time, Mack had spent the entire evening at home. He had looked up from his paper and mentioned that he had purchased a new bedroom suite for them-with twin beds. Emily wanted to scream, wanted to cry out that she had to fuck him in their double bed first. She settled for the plea that she would like to be consulted before they made a major purchase like that. .
"Why the hell should I consult you?" Mack had said gruffly. "I never have before. Besides, what do we need a goddamn double bed for, we never act like man and wife anymore, anyway." His face went back inside his newspaper.
Emily sat deathly still, trying to decide what to say. She finally decided on nothing. It was probably for the best, she would never reach her goal, anyway. She got up and said she was going to bed; her head was splitting.
Mack didn't answer, and he was already gone when she awoke the next morning.
After a light breakfast, Emily showered and got dressed. She checked to make sure she had all her credit cards and enough money to make any cash purchases necessary. The Mercedes was ready and waiting.
The remainder of the morning went rapidly. She decided if Mack didn't need her help when he bought, she didn't need his; she bought everything she saw that pleased her. In the lingerie department she went wild, buying the scantiest and sexiest things she could find. Mack 'll be green with envy, she thought with a giggle.
It was after two when she felt hungry and decided to stop and have some lunch. Over her second cup of coffee she got the urge to go and see her sister. She hadn't seen Joanie since the weekend that she watched Mack fuck her.
Parking in front of Joanie's house, she went up to the door and decided to just walk right in. She could hear voices and wondered if Ray was home. Damn, she said to herself, I forgot that it's Saturday and that Ray'll be home. I sure hope I don't blush or something when I see him.
Emily started to enter the front room and stopped short. It wasn't Ray. A big guy in cut-off jeans and nothing else was kissing the shit out of Joanie. He had his hand under her skirt, gripping her by the ass. Joanie was hunching up against his groin. Emily felt the fire rush to her loins. She stepped quietly back into the hall and leaned weakly against the wall.
"Christ, Joanie, but you taste sweet. It's been so long," the man's voice said.
"Teddy, baby, you know where I taste even sweeter," came Joanie's reply. "If you'll eat me, lover, I'll let you fuck me right here on the floor."
Emily felt sick; she couldn't let Joanie do that. She wanted to peek in and see if the man had his cock out so bad it hurt, but she forced herself to leave the house instead. That was behind her, she had kicked that habit. Her whole body trembled. The moisture soaked the crotch of her panties.
"I've got to save her from herself," Emily said, and rang the doorbell.
No one came to the door so she rang again, and again. Her persistence finally paid off and Joanie opened the door. She tried in vain to hide her look of disgust when she saw it was Emily.
"Hi, Em, what're you doing in this neck of the woods?" she said, her voice less than friendly.
"I was out driving around and thought I'd stop and pay you a visit. Aren't you going to ask me in?"
"Oh sure, come on in, stay all day." Joanie swung the door wide.
Emily stepped inside and pushed the door shut.
"You sound angry, Joanie, did I interrupt something?"
"No, nothing important. A neighbor just dropped by to, uh, borrow the hedge trimmers." Joanie turned and raised her voice. "Ted, come out in the hall. It's my sister-come to call."
Ted came out into the hall, a shit-eatin' grin smeared across his face. "Hi," he said.
"Hi, Ted, I'm Emily," Emily said sweetly.
"Ted," Joanie said, "the trimmers are in the garage, just help yourself."
"Huh?" Ted said, a dumb look on his face.
"And when you're done with them, bring them right back. I may want to use them later this afternoon."
"Oh, yeah, I get i ... uh, sure, Joanie, later this afternoon." He turned to Emily, his face tinged with pink. "Nice to meet you, Emily." He took off for the garage without waiting for Emily's reply.
Emily could see it all plainly enough. Joanie would get rid of the troublesome sister and then resume her tryst with the good-looking neighbor. like hell she would, Emily was determined of that.
"Where's Ray today?" Emily asked.
"He's working, won't be home until late," Joanie answered flatly. When Emily's face lit up she knew it had been a mistake to tell her that.
"Wonderful," Emily cried, "grab a sweater and come home with me, I'm lonely."
"Oh shit, Emily, it's clear across town to your place. And I want to be here when Ray gets home."
"I'll get you back in plenty of time, I feel like driving today. Come on, let's go."
"Piss on it! I don't feel like going over to your place," Joanie spat. She figured if she acted nasty enough, Emily would give it up. Emily had always been sensitive to rebuke. She hated to deliberately hurt her feelings, but hell, she wanted Teddy's fat tongue shoved up her cunt.
"Why don't you fix us a drink first. I'm in no hurry," Emily said. "Or if you don't feel like mixing a drink, I can do the honors at my house."
"Oh, for Christ's sake, Emily, I said I don't want to go to your goddamn house."
"Please, Joanie," Emily begged. "Everyone is gone over there and I don't want to go home to an empty house."
"Jesus H. Christ, Emily, you're the goddamnedest fuckin' baby I ever saw. Oh, all right, I'll go get my fuckin' sweater and go over to your fuckin' goddamn house if you want me to so fuckin' goddamn bad."
Joanie could see her little tirade hadn't shaken Emily. It had always worked before. She shrugged her shoulders and went to get her sweater. Emily could hear her cursing and throwing things around. She smiled, proud of herself. She had saved her baby sister from sin.
Joanie pouted and chain smoked all the way across town.
"Make me that goddamn drink, and make it strong. I need it," she said as soon as they were in the house.
"One strong drink coming right up," Emily chirped. "Oh, I'm so glad you came, Joanie dear."
"Stupid fuckin' bitch," Joanie said, and flopped into a chair.
Emily brought a tall glass filled to the brim. It was obvious from the color that it was mostly booze. "Here, sip on this while I run upstairs for a minute. Don't get too lonely while I'm gone."
"Screw you," Joanie said, taking a big gulp of her drink. She grimaced and stuck out her tongue. "Shit! That's straight booze."
Emily bounced up the stairs and was about to go into her room when she heard voices. She stopped and peeked stealthily around the door jam. "Oh no, not again," she moaned softly.
Mack was in their bed, their double bed, with another woman. She looked again. It wasn't a woman really, just a young girl, maybe sixteen.
"Oooooh, Mack honey, that feels sooo good," the girl cried.
Mack was fucking the piss out of her. Emily's panties went wet.
She was insanely jealous, too; perhaps more so than she had ever been. She wanted to rush in and jerk the big bastard off of the little hussy ... but she knew she didn't have the right. She had to earn that by taking care of her husband's big cock herself. She was so close to taking that huge thing in her twat, but wasn't quite ready ... yet. Her good intentions floated away in the mist of her urgent lust. She wanted cock!
"I need just a little more therapy, Mack honey ... and for you, I'll get it," she muttered.
She stood at the door watching, her heat rising by the second. Emily knew she must get fucked ... real soon.
"Oh Christ, baby, I'm about to cum," Mack shouted.
The girl pushed frantically on his chest. "No, no, not inside me," she screamed. "I'm not on anything, I'll get pregnant."
Cursing loudly, Mack raised up and jerked his big cock out. It was just in time, too. His milky cum splattered onto her belly.
"Sit up here and get the last drops with your mouth," Mack ordered.
"Ugh," the girl said, sticking out her tongue.
Mack reached down and grabbed her by the hair. "I said suck my cock, you little slut. You didn't tell me you weren't taking the pill."
He pulled her up and jammed the steaming glans into her mouth. She didn't cooperate so he milked the last drops of cum out with his hand-into her mouth.
The girl was very young, Emily could see that. Her breasts were small, but the nipples were hard and pointed. The girl orgasmed and started sucking on her own. She had never had a cock in her mouth before.
Emily stared at Mack's huge pecker in the girl's mouth. "It's still too damn big," she murmured. "I need one more, just a notch smaller ... then I'll be ready."
Deep down, Emily knew that she could take Mack's mighty cudgel right now, take it all and squeal for more, but she wanted to get laid again, and by a strange, new penis, one she had never seen before. Just one more time before becoming the faithful wife again.
Just once more, she told herself, just once more for old time's sake ... and I hope to hell it's a good one. She looked in on Mack again. They were lying side by side, necking. Mack had his hand between her legs, gently massaging her tender young cunt.
"Oh, Mack, I love you. You fuck so good," the girl said.
"You ain't seen nothing' yet, baby," Mack growled, forcing his finger into her pussy opening. "Oooh, honey," she moaned, "do me again."
Emily turned away with disgust. I'm not going to stand here and watch him screw her again, Emily thought. Hell no, I'm going out and get a cock for myself.
She flounced down the stairs and headed for the door. Joanie was smiling now and held out her glass for a refill. "Let's have another, Em," she said.
"Piss on this place, I'm going to a bar and have someone else mix," Emily snorted.
"Emily! Your language. That's not like you. What's the matter?"
"Nothing's the matter. Come on, let's go and get a drink. I need one now."
Joanie followed her out to the car. Emily shoved it in gear and peeled rubber out of the driveway. The car lurched and squealed tires in every gear. Joanie was shocked; she had never seen Emily like this.
Emily whipped into the parking lot of a fashionable little neighborhood bar. "Come on, maybe we can get picked up," she said.
"Emily!" Joanie gasped, "what in the hell's come over you?"
"Just shut up and come on, maybe you'll learn something," Emily snapped.
Joanie was too dumbfounded to say anything more. Here was her Victorian sister talking about getting picked up; her ever so syrupy sweet, disgustingly polite sister snarling rudely at her. Joanie followed, her mouth hanging foolishly open.
Emily went inside and stopped, waiting for her eyes to become accustomed to the darkness. She looked around the nearly deserted lounge and finally went over to the bar and slid her fanny onto a high stool. Joanie followed dumbly.
Emily ordered two double Scotches. The drinks went down fast. The bartender was back almost immediately.
"The gentleman at the end of the bar would like to buy you both a drink," he said.
Emily looked down the bar. A young man smiled at her. He was slim, very good looking, and had long blonde hair. He looked like one of those new generation young executives.
"Tell him to go to hell," Emily spat, "and bring us another round of the same. I'll pay for them myself."
Joanie rested her chin in the palm of her hand and looked at Emily. "Just what is it you have in mind, sister dear?"
"Darling, we don't want some snot-nosed kid who thinks he's God's gift to women down here telling us what a super stud he is. Now do we?"
"You're right, of course," Joanie said, rolling her eyes. "God, I guess I will learn something."
Before they were halfway through their second round, a man came in and, without waiting to look around, slid onto the stool next to Emily. He ordered a tall whiskey and water. The weather out was very hot; he took his handkerchief out and dabbed at the sweat hanging on his forehead in drops. The man was very black.
Emily turned her head slightly and looked him over, from the corner of her eye. He wasn't too tall, but very broad of shoulder. His face had a rather pugnacious look about it, flat and ugly. Yes, the man would have to be considered rather ugly, white or black. Emily felt a strong fascination for the man. She didn't remember her Uncle Lester, had completely blotted him from her mind, but he too had been rather ugly.
The Negro turned his head and saw Emily looking at him. He flashed a wide grin, his white teeth gleaming. "It sure is hot out there today," he said.
"Quite warm," Emily answered, and turned back to her drink.
The black man shrugged and did the same.
Emily sat motionless for a moment, then took out a cigarette. "Do you have a light?" she said to the black man. Two books of matches lay open in front of her.
He smiled again and whipped out a long, silver lighter. "Certainly do," he said, flicking it alive.
"My name's Emily," Emily said, drawing in on her cigarette. The blue smoke curled from her nose and mouth. "What's yours?"
"You can call me Herman."
Emily stiffened visibly.
"Something wrong?" Herman asked.
"No ... no, of course not," Emily stammered, stalling to regain her composure. "Is that a common name among..."
"Black men," he finished for her. "No, not really. Why do you ask?"
"Oh, no reason ... particularly."
"I have a son named Herman, but he's just a little feller, ten years old is all."
Emily felt weak, almost faint. It couldn't be possible that this was the father of the boy she sucked off at den meeting. The world just wasn't that small; it couldn't be.
If Herman noticed her inner turmoil, he didn't let on. "Can I buy you ladies a drink?"
"I think that would be nice," Emily said, her racing heart trying to get back to normal.
The conversation flowed easily. So did the drinks.
"Care for another?" Herman asked.
"Why don't we go over to a booth, these goddamn bar stools are murder on the back."
Joanie had been sitting quietly, almost in a state of shock. She leaned over and whispered into Emily's ear, "Em, have you lost your marbles, for God's sake?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. Herman, this is my sister Joanie. Joanie, this is Herman." Emily slid down from the stool and jerked Joanie off by the arm. "Come on, Joanie, we're going over to a booth."
Joanie came quietly. Of course Emily had a grip like a vise on her arm. Joanie slid into the booth, then Emily, and then Herman. He signaled the barman for a round.
"What brings you to this bar?" Joanie asked.
Emily was feeling a real buzz from the liquor and didn't get Joanie's inference that Herman was out of place, but Herman did.
"I just dropped in for a cooler. I often do, I live a couple of blocks from here."
"Oh. You must be well-to-do. This is a very exclusive neighborhood," Joanie said, still chipping away.
"I do all right," he said curtly, obviously annoyed.
"I'll bet you do," Emily said, squeezing his arm. It was a very hard arm. "Oooh, are you this hard all over?"
Joanie gasped, unable to believe her ears.
Herman grinned and slid a little closer to the luscious white woman beside him.
"My wife and boy went to visit relatives for a few days and I was getting cabin fever just sitting around all alone, so I decided to drop by for a drink. I'm glad I did, now," Herman said.
"You mean yo mammy done lef you?" Emily said with a giggle. She was feeling no pain.
Herman scowled and stiffened. He started to slide out of the booth.
"Herman, don't go, I didn't mean anything, I was just joking. I'm sorry," Emily cried, grabbing his arm again.
"You white girls think you can say anything you want to a black man, no matter how degrading. Well, you're wrong." He pulled his arm free and stood up. "All I can say is, fuck you, Whitey!"
"Herman," Emily said softly, "that's what I wanted to talk to you about." She reached out with her soft white hand and caressed the front of his trousers. His cock felt nice and big, even soft. "I'm really sorry, it was the booze talking, not me. Please stay."
Herman hesitated a moment and looked into her eyes. They were filled with tears. He slowly sat down. Emily continued to feel his crotch. His prick grew hard under her touch. She leaned over and kissed him on the lips. They were thick, heavy lips, but tasted like heaven to Emily.
Joanie jumped up from the booth. "For Christ's sake, Emily! Have you lost your mind?" she shouted.
"You're making a scene, Joanie ... please shut your goddamn mouth." She stood up and took Joanie by the arm again. "Let's go to the girl's room, Joanie."
Emily had to sit back down before she could get out of the booth. Before scooching out, she turned to Herman. "We'll be right back. Wait for me. . . please." She kissed him again, this time her tongue quickly bathed his lips.
Inside the rest room, Joanie turned on Emily, her face red with anger. "Jesus Christ, Em, I'm sure that you've cracked up now."
"Why?" Emily asked, fluffing at her hair.
"Well, when you first said you wanted to get picked up, I thought you must be kidding. Not you, sweet, demure little Emily. But you weren't kidding, and you didn't even wait to get picked up ... you had to do the picking up yourself. And you had to pick up a nigger!"
"Yes, isn't it exciting? He's marvelous," Emily gushed.
Joanie couldn't believe her ears. She put her hands to the sides of her face. "God, God, what's happening?" she wailed. "Little Emily gets picked up, and she passes up a nice clean-cut young white guy for a coal black nigger. And if that isn't enough, you kiss the guy and feel his cock right in public, right where anyone that wants to look can see you."
"Joanie, you should feel his cock, too. It's a real monster. I can just see the white goo running out and dripping down that long, black licorice stick."
Joanie was speechless. Emily had flipped; she was stark raving mad, ready for the paddy wagon. She wondered if Ray could help her. She didn't know that he already had.
"Haven't you ever wanted a colored man, Joanie?" Emily asked. "To feel his big, black shaft rammed up inside you?"
"Emily! I'm married, for God's sake!"
"That sure as hell wasn't stopping you with that big-chested stud at your house this afternoon."
"What? What do you mean?"
"I came right in when I came over this afternoon, and I didn't go back out and ring the bell until I watched him play with your ass while you humped up against him and begged him to suck your sweet little cunt."
"I-I ... " Joanie stammered.
"Tell me the truth, Joanie, haven't you ever wanted a black man to shove it to you?"
"Well, I-I ... maybe..."
"Level with me, Sis, I can see it written all over your face. Has a nigger ever fucked you before?"
Joanie turned pale and leaned weakly against a lavatory. "Yes, once," she said softly.
"Did you like it?"
"I loved it, his cock was so big and hard."
"Well, come on then. I think you need to make it twice, and I know I want it once. I've never had the pleasure before."
"You mean both of us ... with just him?"
"I'm sure he can locate a friend who'll be glad to service a nice blonde pussy like you."
Emily slid into the booth beside Herman. He was delighted and a little surprised, having been positive that the two beautiful white cunts would never return. He had never been that lucky, not in his whole life, and ever since his son had told him of the beautiful den mother sucking him off, he had thought of nothing else. Emily snuggled close to him. "Herman, can you get a guy for my sister?"
"Yeah, I think I can," he said, amazed at his good fortune.
Emily put her mouth to Herman's ear. She rolled her tongue around inside before whispering, "See if you can get a big man. Joanie-likes big men ... and well hung."
Herman slid out of the booth and went to a phone. "This is going to be fun, Joanie," Emily giggled.
Joanie picked up her stale drink afid drained it, holding the glass with both hands. "God, but I needed that," she said. "I still can't believe it's true, but don't pinch me to see if I'm awake. I don't want to wake up if I'm dreaming, because you are fuckin' well right, it's going to be fun."
Herman returned and sat down. "Everything's all fixed up. I called a good friend of mine. He's still at his office and won't be able to break free for about an hour, but hell meet us then."
"A whole hour?" Joanie wailed.
"Have patience, Joanie, all good things are worth waiting for," Emily said.
Joanie had the hots now; she really wanted a big black cock. "Shit!" she snarled.
Herman grinned, delighted with the change in the girl's attitude. "Shall we wait here, or go some place else?"
"Where could we go?" Emily asked.
"Well, not to my place. Nosey goddamn neighbors see everything that goes on. I do know a real first class motel where we won't have any trouble getting in." He looked slyly at the two broads. "My car's at home, though, since I walked over here."
"My car's right outside, let's go to the motel," Emily said eagerly.
"Howll your friend know where we are?" Joanie said, a look of panic crossing her face.
"I'll call him from the motel," Herman said. "Let's go."
They got out to Emily's little Mercedes. She took the keys from her bag and threw them to Joanie. "You drive, I can sit on Herman's lap."
"There's a liquor store across the street, let me run over and get some booze," Herman said.
He returned with a bottle of Scotch and a bottle of whiskey. He put them behind the seat and slid in. It was tight, but Emily fit herself snugly on his lap.
They necked and French kissed all the way to the motel. Emily couldn't get her hand in position to feel his cock, but the spread cheeks of her ass got its full benefit. Herman fared better with his hand under her dress. He was inside her panties before they cleared the parking lot. Emily was all quivery and wet and his enormous finger quickly found a home inside her well-greased cunt.
"Oh, darling, I want you to fuck me, I want it so badly," Emily mumbled into his mouth.
"I'd do it right here, if I could, honey," Herman replied.
"I wish you could, I wish you could, I wish you ... . "
Herman got out at the motel and went in and made the necessary arrangements.
The room was a huge one, with two double beds. It was definitely first cabin.
Emily had Herman's cock out in the fresh air before the latch snapped shut on the door. She dropped to her knees and greedily sucked the black, shining monster into her mouth. Herman reared back and shoved his dick into her mouth.
"Lord, Lord," he moaned, "the prayer of a lifetime is being answered." He gazed down at the lovely white woman sucking his black cock. He pretended it was the same cunt who had sucked his son's dick.
"I can't wait for an hour," Joanie wailed, her snatch on fire.
Emily dropped Herman's cock from her mouth and looked up at him. "Why don't you make us all a drink and then kiss Joanie a little to keep her happy. I have all night to suck you off."
"I may hold you to that," Herman said, walking to the bathroom for glasses.
He made a whiskey and water and two Scotch and waters, without ice. He handed one to Emily, who was still sitting on the floor. "Don't drink too much, honey, I want you to know what's going on when I fuck you," he said.
Emily took the glass. "If I do, I'll stay until I sober up, I want to know what you're doing, too." She took a sip of the strong drink. "Now go and kiss my sister."
He went to Joanie and handed her a glass. He clinked his against hers and said softly, "Here's to us, sweetheart." He took a sip and then kissed her.
Joanie put her glass on the arm of her chair and wrapped both arms around his neck. As he kissed her, her hands slid from his neck down to the hem of her skirt. She lifted up the skirt and pushed down her panties. With her panties halfway down her thighs, she took his cock and put it between her milk-white legs.
"Oh God, Herman, can you get it in like this? Can you fuck me standing up?" she hissed.
"Not with your panties holding your legs closed," he said.
Joanie pulled free and pushed her panties down to her ankles. She kicked them off her foot and wrapped her thighs around his cock. It was a big cock, long and thick, well over seven inches. With a little hunching and squirming, Joanie got the head started between the fat, hairy lips of her pussy. She ground her teeth together and groaned with pleasure.
Emily decided that Joanie had had enough and tossed her empty glass to the floor. She got up and swayed across the room to the now fucking couple. Herman's cock was halfway in. She pulled them apart and pushed Joanie down into the chair.
"You'll have to wait for any more, Sis," Emily said, swaying from side to side. She was pretty well looped by now. "Herman is my guy, and it's my turn."
She turned to Herman and started pulling at his belt. "Let's get naked, honey, and fuck on the bed so Joanie can watch. I want her to see what she's missing."
Herman led her to the bed and started stripping off her clothes. Her body was white, smooth, and wonderful to his eyes. He unsnapped her bra and her huge, cherry nippled tits popped free. She was wearing some of the new imagine undies she had purchased and put on at the store earlier, yet the panties were already badly stained when he jerked them down her legs. He pushed her back on the bed and went after his own clothing.
Emily spread herself open and pulled his glistening ebony body down on top of her. She fingered his cock briefly before shoving it into her cunt. He put it in all the way and started fucking. Emily squealed and wrapped her legs over his back.
"Oh, Hermie, you're cock's so big," she cried, feeling every hard black inch of it inside her. "And it feels so good. Don't be too gentle, darling, I like my studs a little rough and wild."
Herman responded with hard slamming cock thrusts. God, how could a woman's cunt her age be so tight? She must have had a hundred cocks in there; it coiled around him like a clenched fist. He couldn't last long with his big cock in there; he knew that.
"I love to fuck, I really, really do," Emily moaned, more to herself than to Herman.
"Yeah, lady, I can tell," Herman gasped, his black ass bobbing in the air. "What would your husband do if he saw this black man fucking the shit out of his wife?"
"He'd ... oh Jesus, Hermie, I'm going to cum! Oooh, that's so good ... I'm cumming, hard! " Emily gurgled. "And, and ... oooh, he'd shoot you right between your brown eyes with his thirty-eight."
"That did it!" Herman yelped, "and I'm gonna get even with him by shooting his beautiful wife right between her fat thighs with mine. I'm cumming, baby, I'm cumming!"
Herman let himself go and spurted his cum inside her cunt. Emily felt the wet heat, prolonging her lingering orgasm. It was good, and she knew that she could take any cock that existed.
Joannie couldn't stand it; just watching while someone else got fucked, especially her sister, was too much. With a whine she shoved her hand into her desperate muff and started to masturbate. She was like this when Virgil walked in the door.
"Man, what have we here?" Virgil said, slamming the door.
Virgil was a big, heavily muscled man. His skin was much lighter in color than Herman's. He sported a bushy, black mustache. His eyes bugged out as the tremendous-looking blonde continued to jack herself off.
Herman had rolled off Emily, who lay stretched out beside him. "Hi, Virg baby. This hot lay beside me is Emily, and the blonde cunt playing stink finger is her sister, Joanie. Girls, this is Virgil, the original Harlem cocksman."
Joanie looked at the big black man with glazed eyes. "Fuck me, Virgil," she moaned.
"Beautiful greeting, baby, beautiful," Virgil said, opening his pants.
Emily sat up. His cock was immense; if it was any smaller than Mack's, it was hardly noticeable, only it was black, coal black. The head was purple and it was huge.
Virgil walked over and picked up Joanie like she was a rag doll. "Let's you and me go over on the bed where there's more room, blondeie."
"Yes, let's," Joanie murmured, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his half open mouth.
They held the kiss while he walked across the room to the vacant bed. His long cock seemed to wave at Emily as they went by. With the tips of her fingers, Emily waved back. The drool was thick in her mouth.
He finished undressing her and then dispensed with his own clothing. His body looked sleek and as hard as rock. He stroked his pecker and looked down at the slender blonde spread-eagled in front of him.
Joanie reached up and pulled him down. "Fuck me, big man," she begged, sliding his prong between her thighs.
Virgil fucked her.
Herman and Emily lay on the other bed watching. "You know, Emily, I didn't tell you about my boy, did I?"
"No, you didn't," Emily answered, not taking her eyes from the rutting couple. Joanie was really getting laid.
"He's in the cub scouts."
Emily sat bolt upright. "Really," she said.
"And you won't believe this, but that scout mother took him into the toilet and sucked his cock."
Emily closed her eyes and saw little Herman's cock cumming into her mouth. She opened them and looked down at big Herman's charger, laying loosely against his thigh.
"I believe it, Herman, I believe it," she gasped and closed her spit-filled mouth over his sticky, limp pecker. It quickly grew less limp.
"God, Emily, suck me all the way," Herman gasped, thrusting his crotch up against her.
Emily bobbed her head in the affirmative and concentrated on the dark glans swelling in her mouth. She took the rest of it in her hand and jacked him off.
Virgil howled as his nuts loosed their load. Joanie screamed as her orgasm hit home. Herman whined and felt his second blast spew into her mouth.
Emily closed her eyes and swallowed his sticky spunk.
Herman was flat on his back, so Virgil got up and poured some booze into glasses. He strutted around the room with his prick sticking straight out from his belly. It was hard as a rock again and proud of it. Emily felt drunk again and near passing out, but she knew she had to have that enormous sticker inside her snatch. It was the final test.
Joanie came to her senses and jumped off the bed. "My God, what time is it getting to be?"
Herman looked lazily at his watch. '"Bout seven thirty," he said.
"Jesus Christ," Joanie wailed, "I've got to beat Ray home and it'll take almost an hour to get there."
"Keep your pants on, or off I should say," Emily said with a snicker. "Ray won't be home for hours."
"How the hell would you know?" Joanie spat, pulling on her clothes.
Emily decided not to say. Instead, she thought, Because, Joanie dear, when Miss Jenson's fianc' is out of town, she-likes her dates to stay late. And III bet my ass Miss Jenson's fianc' is out of town.
"How'll I get home? Can I take your car, Em?" she wailed.
"I'll give you a lift, my car's right outside," Virgil said, grabbing his pants. Virgil figured he could knock her off one more time in the car, or maybe get a nice white blow-job.
Emily got up from the bed, her head reeling. "Virgil, I don't want you to go."
"Somebody's gotta take the lady home," he said, noticing Emily's ponderous white tits for the first time. He liked big white boobs, and Joanie was a little shy in that department.
"Will you come right back?" she asked, grabbing at his swinging pecker.
"If you'll be here when I get back."
"I'll wait forever." She was stroking his big black cock with long, slow pulls. It felt like it was made of steel.
Virgil pulled up his trousers. "You can have all of that you want when I get back," he said.
Emily turned to Joanie. "If Mack should call your house, and he will if he's around home long enough to notice I'm gone, tell him I'm there and I'll see him Monday."
"What if he wants to talk to you?"
"Tell him I'm asleep and you don't want to wake me. He'll buy that. Actually, I'll be right here in this little ole motel room with two gorgeous pricks ... until Monday morning."
As soon as Virgil and Joanie left, Emily flopped face down on the bed and passed out. Herman patted her smooth, round ass and went to sleep.
Emily was roused from her stupor by a heavy weight on her back and a pain in her ass. She tried to rise, but couldn't move. "What the hell is going on?" she cried.
"It's me, Herman. I'm trying another one of your holes to see if it's as tight as the other one. It's tighter."
"OUCH! That hurts," Emily snorted, trying again to get free.
"It won't hurt long, baby," Herman said pushing his big hard cock deeper into her ass-hole.
Emily didn't agree. "It still hurts, you sonofabitch. Pull it out. I didn't bargain for any buggering."
"You bargained for whatever I decide to give you, whitey, and right now I decided I want my cock in your bunghole."
Emily knew she was at his mercy, lying flat on her stomach like she was. "Then put some spit or something on it, it's too damn dry. It hurts, Herman."
Herman decided she was right. He drew his cock part way out and dabbed some spit around his shaft. He repeated the action until her ass-hole was good and wet.
It started to feel good. She closed her eyes and let the swells of new excitement fill her loins. "That's better," she moaned.
Emily came within minutes. She raised her ass a little, trying to get more of his black prick inside. It was good like this-God, she was cumming again already-new ways always made her cum quick and hard. Emily decided she liked new ways, different men, new cocks. All men were different, each new cock was somehow not like any other she had tried; it would surely be boring, deathly dull to fuck with the same man all the time. Emily knew she would never again be content to lay with one guy. She was already tired of Herman; she wanted to try Virgil, Virgil with the massive nine-inch missile. She felt Herman splat his juice into her ass.
"Where's Virgil?" she asked.
Herman milked his shit-streaked cock out, rolled off of her and looked pained. "He hasn't come back yet."
"What time is it?"
"It's two a.m., " he said, holding his arm up where he could see his watch. "Lord, I need some sleep." He closed his eyes.
"Shit, I'll bet he's not coming back." She rolled out of bed and lit a cigarette.
The cigarette was less than half gone when she heard a car door slam. A second later Virgil walked through the door, a wide grin on his face.
"I was afraid you weren't coming back," Emily said.
"This cat said he'd be back, and here I am."
"Where have you been all this time?"
"With that horny sister of yours." He walked across the room and lifted her up, his lips finding hers.
Virgil pushed her back on the bed and took off his clothes. He straddled her naked body. Her cunt swallowed him up, every last inch of nine fat black ones. Herman lay beside them sleeping.
"Do you want me to tell you about me and your sis while I fuck you slow and easy like?" Virgil asked.
"Before we were halfway to her house, she had my dong out and by the time we got there I was really hot to trot. I parks right in front of her house and walks her up to the door. We neck for a while and, with her skirt up over her ass, she says, 'Let me slip in and see if Ray's home yet.' Well, he ain't, and she invites me in.
"Boy she is really ready to go and takes me right up to her bedroom. She says she's sure glad her goddamn kids is at their granmaw's and strips down to bare skin. Hell, lady, what's a man to do? Here's this blonde broad bare ass naked, twitching her cunt around, begging to get laid, and in her own bedroom." Virgil shrugged his shoulders. "I fucks her, that's what, and fucks her good."
Emily barely heard what he was saying. She was rocking in time with the big, black piece of meat buried in her cunt. It was surely the best fuck of her life.
Virgil continued. "I no more than shoots my wad in her belly than her goddamn old man comes home. I hear the front door open and leap out of bed and grab for my pants. She gets up and says to stay right where I am. She goes out and I can hear his voice right outside the door and I'm scared shitless."
"Why? You're twice as big as him ... go a little faster, honey," Emily said.
"Why? Lady, where a jealous husband is concerned, I don't care how little he is, I'm scared shitless," Virgil snorted, and increased his fucking tempo. Emily came hard. "I peek out a crack in the door to see if I should make a run for it and what do I see? She has him down on the floor on his knees and is pulling his head up to her hairy crack. And you know what she says? She lifts her head up and says, 'Suck it, Ray. I want you to suck all of that black mother-fucker's cum out of my pussy.' An that poor bastard is so drunk he don't even know what she's sayin'. "
Virgil giggled and rammed his black dick in harder. "That dumb bastard just squats down there and does what she tells him, namely sucks out all that black mother-fucker's cum from her pussy. When that little ole blonde gal cums, she cums so hard she topples right on top of her husband. While they're all in a heap on the floor, I get my ass out of there."
"Stop talking and just fuck," Emily said, "Oh, God, I've already cum twice."
"I'm getting close myself," Virgil shouted.
"Go hard, go hard, I think I can make it again!"
They came together, clutching and jerking in an effort to make it last. When Virgil dropped off to sleep, his cock was still inside her. Emily dreamed of sugarplums, all of them shaped like hard, black, glistening cockheads.
They awoke late the next morning and started drinking again. Virgil banged Emily in the shower while Herman called out for something to eat. When the young man pushed the cart of food into the room, Herman was giving it to her on the rumpled bed. Before they would let the boy go they had Emily suck him off. He hadn't cum in weeks and gave her a load to remember.
They all got roaring drunk and screwed the rest of the day away. It was after eleven that night, when Emily finally put on her dress and staggered out the door, leaving her shoes and underwear behind.
The young man from the cafe was waiting in the shadows. She let him take her on the little patch of grass in front of the room. His cock wasn't big like Virgil's, but it was a new one; new to her cunt, at least.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Emily didn't awaken until noon the next day. She was in her own bed, even though she didn't remember getting there. She vaguely remembered smashing the front fender on her Mercedes when she pulled into the garage, but that was all.
Unknown to her, Mack had come in after she, and slept in the den. He didn't want to disturb her. Even if he'd known she would let him have her, it wouldn't have mattered, he'd already had his ashes hauled by Angie's new math teacher. Angie was having trouble with her math and had invited the teacher over for a little extra instruction. Mack drove the teacher home, and since her husband wasn't back from church fellowship, he fucked her in the front seat of his Caddie. They were parked in the woman's driveway. Mack had no more than rounded the corner on his way home before the teacher's hubby pulled in and stopped on the spot where his wife had just gotten fucked.
Emily sat up in pain, and in spite of the throbbing ache in her head and the acrid taste in her mouth and the sour stomach and the raw, gnawing feeling in her pussy, she knew she was ready for Mack. His cock couldn't be much bigger than Virgil's; she hoped it was, but knew it wasn't.
After a hot, soaking bath and black coffee and tomato juice, she felt much better-oh yes, and a tall Scotch and water, light on the water.
She fussed over her face before the mirror, powdered and perfumed her whole body, and got dressed. She decided on basics: a short, full skirt, a tight, sleeveless blouse with buttons down the back, and a pair of heels. No pants or bra or hose, nothing else. Well, maybe a small pair of earrings and a dainty necklace.
She tooled out of the driveway in her Mercedes and headed for the bank, the right front fender scraping on the tire all the way. "Gotta get this goddamn heap looked at, it sure makes a hell of a lot of noise for a ten-thousand-dollar car," she muttered. She stopped at a bar and grill and had a light lunch and three vodka martinis before venturing on to the bank. She saw at least three guys who interested her, but decided she must not be deterred from her mission-this was Fuck Mack Day. Besides, the four guys were obviously drooling for her and would wait until another day. The one who got a good look at her hairy snatch when she slid out of the booth fuckin' near dropped his teeth. Somehow she had foolishly forgotten her purse in the booth. Oh, well, one of the men would surely be sweet and return it to her; her address was right inside.
When she got to the bank she was terribly disappointed to find that Mack had just gone out for coffee, no one knew where. Fortunately, she was rescued by Jeff Dunn. He proudly took her into his office; all junior vice-presidents had their own office at Mack's bank. Emily snickered and felt superior, wondering how many more times Mack had banged Jeff's young wife, May, since the night of their wild party.
"Gosh, it's sure nice to see you. I haven't had the chance to thank you for the grand party, and that was weeks ago. I sure got drunk, hope I didn't make a fool of myself."
"You were a perfect gentleman, Jeff."
"I'll bet," he said with a grin. "Have a chair, Mrs. Foster."
"Call me Emily," Emily said, sitting where she was sure he could see her unsheathed legs.
"I'm sure sorry that Mack, uh, Mr. Foster isn't here."
"I'm not," Emily answered, crossing one leg carefully over the other, exposing considerable thigh.
Jeff blushed, hard pressed to keep his eyes off her legs. "Hey, have you heard the latest gossip? Well, not really gossip, I guess it's true. The Devonshire's adopted a tiny baby. Seems kind of strange at their age." '
"It doesn't seem strange to me," Emily said knowingly. "Have you seen the baby, by any chance?"
"Yeah, they were in with it yesterday." "Is it. . . all right? I mean not deformed or anything."
"Nah, it's perfectly formed. No one would adopt a baby like that," Jeff said. He scratched his head, his eyes darting to Emily's exposed thighs. "But it's sure ugly. Ugliest baby I ever saw."
I knew it, Emily thought, if is Hunchy's and Rhonda's baby. "Is Rhonda back from Europe?" Emily asked.
"She sure is. Came back the day they got the baby. She was in with them. Wow, is she ever a lush young chick."
"Yes, she really is," Emily said, slowly uncrossing her legs. If he didn't know that she wasn't wearing pants now, he was blind. The knobs on the ends of her tits were hard now and clearly marked in her sweater, too. "Do you have a cigarette, Jeff honey?"
"Sure," he said, grabbing a metal box from his desk and starting to rise.
"Don't get up, I'll come and get it."
When she got up from the low chair, her skirt flipped up to her crotch for just an instant. She went to his desk and leaned across the corner. He lit two smokes and put one between her lips.
"Thank you, Jeff. You're terribly handsome, I think I'd like it if you kissed me."
Jeff swallowed hard and leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. It must have been seconds before she was on his lap, her lips glued to his. Their tongues went wild; his hand somehow found the furry patch under her skirt. Actually, it wasn't under her skirt since her skirt was well above her hips.
"Play with me, Jeff, feel my cunt," she moaned into his mouth.
Emily's mind was reeling with desire. She wanted to be good and hot for her husband when he came back. She wouldn't let Jeff fuck her-today-just get her good and ready for Mack's big pecker. She could always have the junior vice-president later, maybe even later today.
She pulled her blouse from her skirt and lifted it up above the bulging mounds on her chest. The nipples were erect and fiery red. "Kiss my nipples, Jeff. That always makes me so hot," she moaned.
"God, Mrs-Emily, your tits are beautiful," he gasped, sucking a huge nipple between his lips.
Emily was gasping for air. She wanted to get fucked in the worst way, but she didn't want to dull it any for when Mack returned.
"I want you so bad, Jeff," she cried, pulling her tit from his mouth and sliding from his lap.
On the floor at his feet, she fumbled with the zipper in his pants. She palmed his cock in her hand and looked up at him, her huge blue eyes sparkling. "I'm going to suck you off, darling, and let you cum in my mouth," she said huskily. "You like to get sucked off, don't you Jeff?"
He nodded dumbly, his cock throbbing in her hand.
"I knew you liked getting sucked off, I saw Marion Connely suck your cock at our party. Oh, don't look so startled, it was a wild party, and besides, that's probably what Marion Connely does the best. I'll bet she can't do it as good as I can, though." , With that, she sucked his cock into her mouth. Her fingers worked at the shaft, her lips worked at the ridge at the bottom of the knob, and her tongue concentrated on the gaping hole seeping clear nectar.
Just as Jeff's stringy calcimine filled her mouth, the buzzer on his intercom went off. More reflex than anything else, he popped open the switch.
"Mr. Foster has returned," came the squeaky voice, "Would you notify Mrs. Foster, please. He's in his office."
Jeff groaned and flipped the switch to off. Emily drew his hairy nuts dry. Her cunt twitched wildly as his slick cum slid down her throat. She was more than ready.
She stood up and straightened her clothes. With a sweet smile she looked at Jeff and said, "We really must get together for cocktails some evening when you get off work. Call me ... soon." She blew him a kiss and was gone.
"This is a pleasant surprise," Mack said when she entered his office. He got up and came to meet her.
Emily threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard.
"Wow, you haven't kissed me like that in a long time," he said.
"Too long," Emily answered. "Get me a drink, Mack. Would you please?" She wanted to wash away all traces of Jeff before she consumated her marriage.
Mack went to the small bar in the corner and poured some Scotch into a glass. Emily came up behind him and pressed herself into his backside.
Mack twisted free and handed her the drink. "To what do I owe this pleasant visit?" he asked.
Emily took a long pull on her drink before answering. "I want you, Mack."
"What do you mean, Em?"
"I want you to fuck me, right here in your office."
"We've been all through that. I won't let you disappoint me again. In other words, no soap."
"I won't disappoint you, darling, I promise," she said, and dropped to her knees. "What kind of panties are you wearing today?"
Mack's mouth dropped open.
"It's all right, I know all about them. I saw them in your drawer, and I must say you have a fine porno collection."
Emily had his pants open and was drawing them down his legs. He was wearing a pair of mint-green bikini panties. His dick was still soft. She put her mouth to the silk and sucked at the head of his cock. It started to harden.
"I'd suck you off through the panties, but I want you to cum somewhere else. I want you to fuck me."
"If you're putting me on again...." Mack growled, pushing the panties down.
"I'm not, I promise."
She grabbed the back of her blouse and ripped it open, the buttons popping in every direction. She dropped the blouse to the floor and peeled off her skirt and sunk down on the thick carpet. Her legs swept open and her arms reached out.
"Em," he groaned, "I've waited for this for such a long time." He dropped to his knees between her legs, his pants still bunched around his ankles.
As he came down to her, she reached under his belly and fitted his enormous cock to her waiting cunt. She was sopping wet and took his dick in with ease.
"God, your cock is huge!" she cried. But it's a toy next to the hunchback's, she thought.
"Oooh, fuck me, lover, fuck me!" "Do you really like it, Em?"
"Must you ask?" Emily retorted, thrusting herself up to meet him.
It was a complete rip-off. Emily had gone the whole route just to be able to accommodate her husband, and as she lay beneath his sweating body, grunting with pleasure, she realized she was still practicing-practicing for the grotesque dwarf with the twelve-inch cock. She wondered how much better it was going to feel.
"Hunch it to me, honey," she moaned, "hunch it to me, I'm cumming!"
"Oh, Jesus, Em, I love you," Mack cried, his cock spitting her full of liquid fife.
"I love you, too," she said softly.
As Mack pressed his mouth to hers, Emily wondered if she should call Ruth Devonshire for another riding date this afternoon or wait until in the morning.
Emily knew she couldn't wait until in the morning.
