Ben Myerson was in a depressed frame of mind as he drove his truck toward a very fashionable section of Rye, New York.
He had encountered a great deal of traffic all the way from his point of origin outside the apartment building where he lived in Queens.
It was a crisp sunny Indian summer morning in the Empire state and Ben was wishing that he could be anywhere other than on the job. For one thing he was nursing a sizeable hangover which resulted from a heavy siege of drinking the evening before. Even though Ben was only nineteen he looked considerably older and it was only on rare occasions when he was questioned by a bartender.
He had shot some pool and gotten drunk at a local tavern where he had drowned himself in beer. He had had ill luck in his pool playing that evening loosing six of seven games to a friend of his. But that wasn't what was really bugging him this autumn morning. It wasn't even the hangover. It was what happened after his friend left and he struck up an acquaintanceship with a young Italian girl who had walked in unescorted.
Ben had immediately seen to it that the two met. Even though she had sat down at the bar some distance removed from Ben he quickly narrowed the distance by sitting in the adjoining stool. He had bought her three beers and was of the impression that everything was going well.
When the girl had even consented to let him walk her to her apartment building some two blocks away from the bar things had appeared to brighten even more. As he walked along the darkened street with her he felt his penis inflate with a hungry burning urge.
This was going to be his score he just knew it he told himself as he walked alongside her.
Then they made it to her apartment building.
"Well this is where I live," she told him.
"Say there's a liquor store just down the street," he told her noticing the bright light shining several doors away. "Why don't I mosey on over there and pick up a six pack. We could go up to your place to the flat and have a ball."
"Nan, thanks for walking me home, Ben honey, but I really can't."
"Why not?" He looked at her a little stunned.
"Because my boyfriend's coming over in about an hour. I'm afraid he's the jealous type dear. So thanks and good-night."
His heart sank he turned on his heels and walked away. He gritted his teeth angrily and looked back as he watched her move quickly up the steps, leading into the house.
"The goddamned cunt just needed somebody to walk her home," he grunted.
That was the way things had been going for him lately with the opposite sex. The girls were so much less complicated in the little town in South Carolina where he had been born and raised. He had come to the city immediately after graduating from high school hoping to find some adventure. In particular he was hoping to do a lot of scoring with the girls. He had heard that the life style in New York City was far more liberalized than the prevailing customs of the little backward town where he had grown up and lived his first eighteen years.
But the thing he had not counted on was encountering women who were so more infinitely sophisticated than the girls he had known back home' that he just could not seem to find a rapport with them. Most of them if they had been willing to talk with him have been of a mind of using him for their own purposes, such as the young Italian girl he had walked home that evening.
Ben was getting tired of being used and getting extremely angry about striking out on so many occasions, with good-looking women. He had a big rod and hot balls, along with his youth, and could not see why things were not falling into place more readily.
He thought about what happened the night before and relived some of the main frustrations he had encountered since moving to the big city as he swung his truck down the first street he would be covering that morning. It was a wide, expansive street, which consisted of beautiful homes on sloping green lawns. He parked his car in front of the corner house underneath a sprawling shade tree.
He got out of the car yawned a few times then proceeded on his way. He didn't really dig his work as a meter reader. What he really wanted to become was a writer and two nights a week he was attending creative writing classes at City College of New York hoping that his efforts would ultimately result in success. That was another major reason why he had come to New York. So many of the writers he had read and admired as a young boy had turned out their best work there. So had his number one literary hero
Thomas Wolfe, who had come from North Carolina just one state removed from where he had grown up, and had relocated in New York, where he established an enduring niche in the field of American writers.
He told himself that what he truly needed was the same thing Wolfe had received when he came to New York, the opportunity to involve himself in a series of adventures. By so doing he would have enough subject matter to enable him to turn out the same type of monumental epic novels that Thomas Wolfe had written.
He walked toward the side of the corner house and quickly received a reading of the meter. In the next few minutes he encompassed all the houses on that side of the street during the course of a full block. Then he crossed the street and renewed his activities on the other side, where a series of new houses remained to be covered.
As he moved from place to place, heading down the block, he observed the sight of a beautiful statuesque blonde walking out on her lawn wearing a gold robe. He watched her as she stooped over to pick up a newspaper. Then she turned around and walked slowly back inside the house.
He found himself totally immersed in her overpowering beauty. So great was his concentration that he even bypassed one of the houses, not comprehending his error until two houses later. He chuckled to himself then went back and retraced his steps.
Ben could hardly wait to read the meter of the house where the beautiful blonde lived. Perhaps he found himself hoping she would be standing in the front window when he walked by and he could get a good look at her. The face up close could come anywhere close to equaling her body from a distance then he knew he would be enormously impressed.
One by one he finished the other houses. Then he finally reached the beautiful white house that the blonde had walked into. His heart pumped with an exhilarated sense of excitement as he walked around to the side of the house and read the meter. He had been hoping to see her through the front window but had not had such success. She was nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly after reading the meter he heard the sound of water running from somewhere inside the house. He noticed that there was a tiny window not far from where he was standing. He wondered if he ought to take a look inside just to satisfy his curiosity.
He yielded to temptation and walked toward the small window. He had to stretch his body to the fullest to be able to see inside. But once he succeeded in doing so he realized that his efforts had surely been worthwhile.
He got a perfect view of the bathroom most specifically the shower that the beautiful blonde happened to be standing inside of with her clothes totally removed. His huge cock throbbed inside his trousers as he observed her standing under the sparkling warm rays of water that pelted her all over her statuesque, beautifully proportioned form.
The blonde was even lovelier than he could have conceived of. She had huge blue eyes which could hypnotize him without any difficulty. Her long strands of blonde hair shimmered radiantly. As for her firm ivory skin that also impressed him enormously. She had firm voluptuous breasts and long trim legs with beautifully tapered ankles. And, of course, his eyes also managed to travel down between her legs toward her white-thatched love mound.
Little did Ben Myerson know it but the beautiful blonde who stood not far from him, completely unaware of the spectator role he was assuming, was a celebrity in her own right. Her name was Julia Simpson and her husband was a prominent Eastern architect. She had competed some four years previously in the role of Miss New York in the Miss U.S.A. beauty pageant in Miami Beach. From there she received lucrative opportunities to enter the modeling field. She worked her way to a position of great stature within the modeling field in New York City. In the course of those endeavors she had occasion to meet Bob Simpson at a cocktail party. His divorce had just become final from his wife of some fifteen years. Three months after they met she became Mrs. Simpson.
As she turned her body slightly and dabbed soap under her arms, Ben got an excellent view of her lovely buttocks so well shaped and firm. At that point he found he could control himself no more. He quickly reached inside his trousers and pulled out his penis, which he jerked up and down on fervently. His eyes remained riveted on her lovely buttocks as she soaked her armpits then her breasts.
She then turned her body again. This time her firm swollen breasts were staring out in his direction. Once more he stepped up the pace of his stimulating masturbatory movements. His fingers moved in a diligent flurry as he pushed himself ever closer toward orgasm.
Not only did his penis itch but there was also a fervent sense of imperative need welled in his scrotum.
Two minutes later beautiful Julia Simpson got out of the tub and dried herself off. By that time he was so turned on that he found himself on the verge of expelling his juices.
As irony would have it, he was standing right next to a flower bed. As the gushing white juice spurted out of the end of his penis it landed on the flowers.
"A little water for the flowers," he whispered to himself as he orgasmed.
Then he realized it was time to zip up and move on. He had taken quite a risk to do what he had done. But considering all the fun he had had watching the beautiful statuesque blonde take a shower he felt that the risk had been worth it.
He greatly regretted moving on. What he wouldn't have given to go into that house and provide enlightening companionship for her in the bedroom.
But alas, he realized that constituted no more than wishful thinking on his part.
CHAPTER TWO
Ben Myerson could hardly wait to get through with work that day. After watching Julia Simpson take a shower he even forgot about the terrible headache he had been nursing.
The overpoweringly beautiful blonde had thrilled his creative juices to the fullest measure possible. He had been doing some experimentative writing prior to embarking on an ambitious new novel. He had learned enough in his creative writing courses about characterization to want to launch out on his own.
The thing that he really wanted to write about more than anything else was a story about a beautiful woman or perhaps of beautiful women. He had to put something down on paper relating to this beautiful woman he had seen in the shower. The mental image of her remained totally clear as he drove through heavy traffic back toward the Queens and his apartment.
When he reached home he immediately went to his refrigerator, where he fished out a can of beer. He was thirsty and gulped down the beer quickly. And as he drank it he thought about his visual conceptions of the overpoweringly lovely woman. He thought about what she might have thought had she known he was secretly viewing her. He didn't feel the least bit guilty about watching. After all, he thought, if a beautiful female form isn't to be looked at then what is?
He downed the rest of his beer hurriedly. Then he walked into the tiny room which served as both bedroom and office. His typewriter was perched on top of a table. Next to it were sheets of paper.
He sat down in the tiny chair that he used whenever his creative inspirations surfaced and he decided to type them on a sheet of paper. He flipped a sheet of paper into the typewriter and began typing. He decided to employ an automatic writing approach letting his creative faculties unleash themselves as he thought about the beautiful woman that he had seen that day.
His first objective was to set out this woman descriptively on paper. He wrote about her long flowing blonde hair and her apple cheeked glow. The ivory skin also made a firm imprint on his mind, and he recorded his impressions concerning it as well. Then he distinctly described her beautiful firm breasts and long trim legs. He ended his description with commentary relating to her lovely vagina and the furry mound which surrounded it.
He next went into a description of a girl lying on her bed. He visioned then quickly recorded the girl rolling her beautiful body. He envisioned and recorded her running her fingers eagerly over her snatch. He could see her body twisting and turning before him. She looked so graceful, so lovely, lying there on that bed.
His next image was of himself walking into that bedroom naked. He was stroking his cock boldly. She looked up from where she was masturbating and looked at him. Her eyes focused with great interest on that huge rod. He kept on running his fingers over it with ardent enthusiasm then lowered himself on the bed.
Then a creative writing flourish hit. As he envisioned himself being sucked by that beautiful hunk of female. He envisioned her tongue working its way sweepingly up and down the lengthy base of his rod. The longer that she kept it up the faster she went until he soon felt himself on the imminent verge of explosion.
He finished the sequence on the page with a voluminous orgasm in which his growing juices bolted into her mouth.
No sooner did he stop writing than he began feeling those very same urges in his rod and balls. He jumped up from his chair and felt his warm solid cock. He knew that he had to get his rocks off just as it had been necessary for him to do so earlier that day when he had watched beautiful Julia through a window.
He went into the bathroom, unzipping his trousers and letting his huge rod fall free. Then he immediately went to work on that rod, letting his fingers manipulate swiftly and skillfully up and down over that huge hunk of flesh.
As he found himself drawing closer to the big moment he closed his eyes and thought about Julia. Up and down the fingers moved skillfully, until finally he felt a tingling itch surfacing throughout his cock and balls.
Then the juices bolted out the end of his stick and landed in the toilet. He flushed the toilet then walked back to his room. It was time for him to go out and have dinner.
For the remainder of that week Ben Myerson continued reading meters in that same neighborhood where the beautiful blonde woman lived. She continued dominating his thoughts, and as the evenings evolved and he left the job he would drive back to his apartment and type his impressions about the beautiful woman again. He described every form of intimate sexual contact involving them. It stimulated his creative impulses and made Ben feel that much closer to her.
He also made it a point to drive his truck past the street where she lived. He wanted to determine whether she was alone during the day or not. One day he observed an older woman dressed in a maid's uniform leaving the house in a Volkswagen and driving away. He looked at his watch and realized it was early afternoon. He decided after work to drive by and see if the Volkswagen was still missing from the driveway. It turned out that it was. He made a notation in his scratch pad indicating that it was possible the maid was off on Wednesday afternoons.
He checked the following Wednesday and also discovered the maid's car was missing. And all the while the flowing urges within him became all the more pronounced. He wondered if he should take a chance and break in on this beautiful woman. He wondered if it would be worth the risk involved. The more he thought about it the easier it was for him to conclude that it would be. After all, she had dominated his thoughts to such an extent that all he seemed to do was to write and think about her.
One Tuesday afternoon when the day had passed by slowly and drearily he decided to cease working early. He wanted to drive back to New York City. Most specifically he wanted to stop at a costume store not far from where he lived in the Queens. He knew that if he waited until the regular hour to stop working the shop would be closed. It was imperative that he stop there that very day.
By leaving work early he didn't encounter as much traffic heading back to New York City. He swung his car into the parking lot of the costume store, then walked inside.
He walked inside and the friendly heavy set man in the glasses immediately beamed a happy smile and bid him a pleasant hello.
"Can I help you with anything?" the man inquired.
"Yeah, I need a costume. I'm going to a Halloween party and I'm determined to have the best costume of anybody there."
"I don't blame you, you'll probably win a prize that way."
"That's what I'm shooting for," he nodded.
"Well, what kind of costume are you looking for?"
"I'm looking for something that will make me look like a gangster. You know, something kind of novel."
"Sure, sure, I can help you out there."
The heavy set man quickly excused himself walking away. He came back holding a series of masks. One by one he showed the masks to Ben. Ben observed them carefully trying to decide upon one that would do the job.
"I kind of like this one over here," Ben pointed toward an authentic looking mask which showed a heavily browed snarling man with a black mustache.
"You know, I think that's the best one we've got," the man nodded, grinning widely. "I had a hunch that you would choose that one, I really did."
"There's just one thing though," Ben said. "I need something to go with it to look even more authentic."
"I've got just the thing."
The man walked away. He returned several seconds later, holding a black wig which went perfectly with the mask. Then he reached underneath the counter and pulled a toy revolver out. It looked every bit as authentic as the real thing.
"Do you think this will do it?" the man grinned. To illustrate his point all the more, the proprietor put on both the wig and the mask, then picked up the revolver which he pointed towards Ben.
"Are you sure that thing isn't loaded?" Ben asked.
The man burst into loud laughter.
"This will fool them every time as long as you do it just right. No, this isn't any more harmful than a cap pistol. Actually even less harmless because there are no caps in it. This thing doesn't shoot at all. It just looks like the real thing. Anyway, how do I look?"
"Just like a hood."
"That's exactly what I thought," the man nodded.
They both burst into laughter. When the laughter subsided Ben finally said:
"Okay, you've sold me. I'll take it."
Ben went home and did some more writing. Again the topic was beautiful Julia Simpson. But this night, un-like the others, his mind was too preoccupied with other things. He went into the refrigerator, got out a can of beer and spent the next hour in silent reflection sipping the beer as he thought about the next day.
The following morning he stuffed his costume back inside the package that the man had wrapped it up in at the store the day before. He got into his truck and slipped the package in his glove compartment. Then he drove toward Yonkers where he was working that day. The thing he had liked best about working as a meter reader was that it was something he could do on his own. Provided he made his checks and handled the job without any difficulties, he was subjected to very little interference of any kind by anyone. He had his privacy, and on this day in particular his privacy meant everything.
He worked diligently through the morning. He made certain that his rounds were accomplished more swiftly than usual in that he was planning to take off part of the afternoon.
Following lunch, which he ate in his car, gobbling down the two sandwiches he had prepared for himself that morning, then washing them down with a can of beer, he went back to work again. He would work about an hour, then drive over to Rye for another meeting with the beautiful blonde, the mystery girl who was dominating his life.
As he got into his truck and began driving toward Rye, he began to feel the swirl of excitement that existed throughout his body. His penis was rock hard as he thought about that beautiful naked form, standing before him.
He deliberately parked his truck two blocks removed from the street where the blonde lived. He took out the package that had his costume contained within it. He walked casually toward the house, making certain that he aroused no suspicions. Before he had exited his truck, he took off his blue work shirt with the words Gas Company inscribed in red over one of the pockets. He realized that he would only be letting himself in for additional trouble to reveal where he was working.
His heart was thumping with great earnestness as he reached the house in question. He observed that the Volkswagen was not there. There was a beautiful white Cadillac perched in the driveway which glistened against the afternoon sun. The Cadillac he was certain belonged to the beautiful woman.
He slipped up stealthily toward the porch. Then he opened up the package and pulled out the costume. He slipped the wig over his head as he was able to hide himself in the bushes which were located adjacent to the front porch. Now the mask and wig were securely in place. He grabbed hold of the prop revolver and walked toward the door after discarding the paper by slipping it into his pocket.
He heaved a long sigh as he rang the doorbell. He held the revolver in his right hand which he noticed was shaking. After all, he wasn't accustomed to doing things like this. He only hoped he could successfully bring it all off.
He stood there waiting hearing the footsteps proceeding toward him. His heart pounded fearfully. He still had time to run away, if that was what he decided to do. Sure, it was a risky venture, but would he ever be able to forget the sight of the beautiful nude woman he had watched in the shower? That was the question that plagued him. Deciding that he could not forget her he felt that his only other option was to take the risk involved.
The door opened and that beautiful face stood before him. The huge saucer-like blue eyes stared in his direction. But this time un-like the other occasion when he had watched her through the window, her expression was anything but carefree. This time she looked at him with eyes filled with terror.
"What do you want?" she asked in little more than a whisper.
"I want you."
"I don't know you. I don't know what you want of me. Please go away."
"I'm not going away until I get exactly what I want. And you give me any more static my lovely dear, and I'm going to blow that pretty head right off of your shoulders. Now open that door and let me in."
Not wanting to risk extinction, she opened the door to let him in. Ben entered the front room, continuing to hold the gun poised in her direction. So far everything had gone beautifully. She was just as terrified of that real looking toy pistol as she would have been of the real thing.
And that was what he was concerned about, keeping her in a state of intimidation.
"Now I don't have any time to waste," he told her crisply. "So lead me into the bedroom. And no funny stuff my dear unless you want to get killed."
She led him up the stairs and into the huge second floor bedroom. He immediately liked the place particularly the lovely huge bed in the middle of the room.
"Very nice, very nice," he nodded. "Now strip those clothes off, honey, so I can get the action I came after."
He watched with great interest as she stripped off her clothes. She wore red slacks and a blouse. She looked at him hesitantly several times as she undid the slacks, slowly rolling down her legs. She was hoping that perhaps he would compassionately decide against subjecting her to such indignities.
But Julia Simpson had no chance at all to talk him out of what he had come after. He wanted sex and he wanted it badly. His cock and balls were on the verge of erupting beneath his pants. His penis was long and hard, ready to involve itself in passionate activity.
Once she got out of her slacks he became even more intensely excited. He saw those long lovely limbs on display before him. She looked over at him reflecting doubt wondering what he would demand next.
"Okay, I didn't tell you to stop," he told her. "Take off those cute little panties."
Julia Simpson did not want to remove her white lace panties. She did not want to allow this strange man who had burst into her house carrying a gun the liberties of looking at her vagina. But there was nothing that she could do at that point. He had the gun and was all there was to it. She realized now that it was probably wishful thinking on her part, to conclude that perhaps he would change his mind about demanding that she strip.
He watched with keen interest as she rolled the panties down her legs and stepped out of them. He focused his eyes for the next few seconds on her love button which was surrounded by a nest of golden hairs. He would be giving that snatch a lot of action soon, he thought to himself, and now he could hardly wait for her to finish the job of stripping.
She tugged at her blouse, which she pulled off. Then she looked at him one more time before taking off her bra.
"You're doing okay," he said. "Don't stop now. Take off that bra."
He was extremely anxious to get another look at those beautiful breasts. Once she removed her bra he became totally immersed in the loveliness of those firm beautiful breasts. He knew he had to have her, and at that very instant.
"Okay, honey, now lie down on that bed and no funny stuff," he commanded softly but firmly. "I want you to just lie on that pretty back of yours and spread those beautiful legs out nice and wide. I'm going to start out by having you for lunch."
His tongue went to work with feverish anxiety as he let it maneuver itself around her box. He held the gun menacingly in his right hand so. that she would not attempt to try anything foolish.
He let it fling with vigorous enthusiasm as it rolled around every crevice of her box. He sucked her hungrily as if she were the only woman in the world and afforded him his only opportunity for passion.
While the tongue set a blistering pace as it stabbed at her moist vagina, Ben occupied his free left hand by letting his fingers work ardently over her breasts. She allowed those fingers freedom of movement as they would tweak her nipples and pinch her breasts. First he would devote attention her left breast, then he would move his activity toward the right.
The enthusiastic finger movements made him all the more eager to continue his sucking exploits. He could tell from the way that her legs were quivering and her body was twisting and turning that he had struck a responsive chord within her. Perhaps she was afraid of him but upon having a man exercise his tongue with diligence over her box she was able to be aroused.
As he continued licking at a fast pace he felt his cock and balls going all the more excited. He knew that following an explosion by her he would have to concentrate on getting those rocks off. The tempestuous storm within him had been building from the time that he saw beautiful Julia showering. From there things had only intensified and now that he had her before him his dreams were quickly being transformed into reality.
She began to gasp and sputter as he continued driving her closer to orgasm. She felt strange about what was going on. She particularly felt funny about being pushed to the brink of orgasm, at a time when a man was holding a gun on her. But the hungry manner in which he sucked out her love pit had caused even the fear to subside. She could not recall ever having been sucked with any more passion, except for those first few occasions where she had had sex with her husband. He had fallen in love with her totally and unswervingly, and the first few times they shared love in bed he had pushed himself and Julia as well to the brink of ecstasy.
As he observed her drawing closer to orgasm he stepped up his fantastic pace. He was sucking her to the very ultimate of his abilities.
"Oh, oh, oh," she gasped.
With those gasps he braced himself for what he thought would be a deluge of juice. He then got the splendid opportunity he had been looking for, that of being able to taste this beautiful wonderful female who turned him on to such an extent. He licked every drop and then decided to turn his attentions to further action.
"That was pretty good, I must admit," he nodded. "Look, don't go off half cocked thinking that it's all going to end. I need a lot more action and I intend to get it before I'm through. You're too beautiful to leave alone after the cunt suck. This big prick of mine needs to be taken care of."
To illustrate his point he let the fingers of his left hand work their way down to his zipper. He unzipped it and let his huge rod fall free. It felt good to look at it and see it standing out so firm and tall.
"Now this prick needs some action, baby," he told her. He continued holding the pistol on her with his right hand. He wasn't about to give her the impression he was letting up on anything. Ben recognized that the key ingredient to his success rested upon intimidation, and it was with that object in mind that he decided to forge ahead.
He stroked his penis several times as he walked toward her. Once more she had that wide eyed look of fear on her face. She dreaded future action and did not know just how far this desperate man would go.
As she continued lying there stiffly on her back, he eased his body downward. He let his knees touch the bed then eased his body forward continuing to hold the gun on her. He did not stop until his body rested just atop hers. He held his cock in the fingers of his left hand as he perched it just above her mouth. As he continued holding the penis squarely in place with his fingers he let his body drop downward. The cock was edging its way toward her mouth.
"Open that mouth up so I can give you a beautiful throat fuck," he said with just a touch of intimidation in his voice.
His words caused a flash of terror to surge through her body. She had heard about women being screwed in that way, but it had never happened to her. She had only blown her husband on a few occasions, and even then only after he had coaxed her for a great deal of time. She did not particularly like to suck men. But on top of that this would constitute the very worst type of suck imaginable.
She could not however risk the possibility of antagonizing him. As he had stressed on more than one occasion he would not be satisfied until he received all that he had come after, and it would all be derived at her expense.
Ben looked down as her lovely mouth opened. Before he let his huge prick inside it he looked at the even shimmering white teeth. Everything about her was beautiful he observed, even down to her teeth. She was what he would classify as a knock-out in every conceivable respect.
Then he eased his body downward slightly letting the penis move gradually toward her mouth. He let it slip inside her mouth carefully. After planning this activity for so long and spending so many sleepless hours just thinking about being in the same bed with this beautiful blonde he did not want to have the action too short lived. He wanted to give things a chance to build particularly within his cock and balls. The big problem would be one of containing himself at all in that he was so excited over what was happening.
He guided his penis as it slipped along the edges of her mouth. She watched as it slipped against her tongue.
"Okay, just let that tongue slide around baby," he told her. "Just wait and I'll take care of everything."
She obediently let the tongue slide and manipulate around the bulging mass of inflamed flesh. His body worked back and forth rhythmically as he gradually began feeding her more of his cock. He had fucked a girl once that way back home. She had been the town slut, the girl who would go any which way with any man provided he was able to pay the price. Ben had saved up a week's pay from the part time job he had at the feed store where he worked. He used that money to buy himself a fuck and it turned out to be a wild throat fuck. But that girl didn't have one tenth of what the beautiful blonde possessed. This girl was an absolute dream and the only way he could have secured such action was through ingenious means. He remained proud of himself for what he had pulled off and hoped that things would continue in the same successful vain.
"Oh, nice, nice, I'm really enjoying this," he sighed as he continued to feed her warm cock.
He sighed and gasped and his body twisted and turned as he diligently shoved more meat into her. Now he was pushing the cock into her as far as it would go. It was touching the base of her throat. Now he recognized the real fun would begin. He would be receiving the same kind of sensation he would get drilling his prick into her pussy.
He would drill for all he was worth shoving his cock forward with rapier like stabs. It was an effective precise way of getting what he wanted. He totally dominated her with his crisp sadistic stabs. Every now and then she would let out a gasp. Julia was having a great deal of difficulty even breathing as he drilled and stabbed for all he was worth.
"Oh, oh, what a suck, what a suck," he said. "It's great, I love it, just love it."
And all the while he was moving that much closer toward orgasm. His heart was pounding with excitement and sweat began to appear on his forehead as he drilled her with his totally effective forward stabs.
"Oh, oh, oh, I'm just about there," he announced, "Just about there. I'm gonna flood your mouth, oh, oh, oh, oh, there it is, oh, oh, oh, oh."
His deluge accompanied the announcement. The hot sea of white stored up lava began to shoot voluminously into her mouth. It gave him a feeling of pure unadulterated exhilaration and caused the inhibitions within him to vanish.
It felt so good to watch that juice shoot into her mouth.
She coughed several times as the deluge hit.
"Don't loose any of that precious stuff," he told her. "I want you to swallow every drop baby, every beautiful drop. It's all for you and I want you to enjoy it."
She wanted to spit it out but Julia knew that to do so would only antagonize him. He was warning her that he would not tolerate anything of that kind. Julia recognized that he had an enormous ego and that things would have to be done strictly his way or else. And with a gun in his hand he would be a difficult man to argue with, she recognized.
After the prolific explosion he spent some time considering what his next course of action should be. He recognized that there was enough excitement welled up inside him to easily permit him to go off once more. Hell, he realized, he could spend days with a beautiful woman like this and shoot like a repeater rifle. But he knew that it was not the type of risk he could take. He had timed his stay at the beautiful blonde's, and from looking at his watch he recognized that he only had a few more minutes if he were to remain on schedule.
He wanted to leave her house no later than two o'clock which he calculated after looking at his watch would give him time for one more orgasm.
He thought quickly about what type of action he would want and decided that the most intimate thing he could do would be to provide her with some more of his juice as he stuck his rod into her moist mound. He had moistened it through a siege of sucking and felt that it would be fertile grounds for another sexual encounter.
He eased his body back a few strides. He reached down and tugged at his huge rod. It had gone down very little since he had orgasmed. And he felt that by tugging on it for just a few strokes it would snap back where it had been previously.
She watched with interest as he let his fingers slide up and down the long base of his rod. She could see from the expression on his face that he was intending to produce more action from her.
"Look out, baby, because I'm gonna let that cute little cunt have it right now," he warned her.
He then allowed his long penis to thrust itself inside her mound. He stabbed so hard and so brutally on the first occasion that she let out a mild shriek.
"You bawl once more and it'll be the last time," he pointed the gun menacingly toward her as he continued to hold it in his right hand.
He recognized the gun had just the insurance he needed to get what he wanted and he would be continuing to follow that same strategy as long as he remained in the house. He had always dreamed of being able to fuck a beautiful woman and now the opportunity had arisen. Not only was he getting to screw her in just the way that he wanted to, but he was even getting to do it in a luxurious set of surroundings. He liked, in particular, the huge soft bed that they were sharing.
Her body trembled and tears of pain trickled down both sides of her face as his hard dick continued drilling her. He pushed forward effectively determined to provide her with a fuck that she could never forget. He could envision her rich husband sitting in some beautiful office in the Manhattan skyscraper. Maybe he didn't have an office in a skyscraper or a beautiful home, but he was able to score on the man's wife, and that was satisfaction enough for him, for the time being.
The brutal pace continued as his hips flared back and forth. He stuck his body into her with all he could muster in the way of strength. He speared her time and again, pushing with brilliant effectiveness.
"Ah, ah, your real tight in there, nice and tight," he told her. "Ah, ah, I can hardly wait to explode in there. Oh, oh, your too much baby, too much, too much."
The brisk, frenzied pace continued as he stabbed her with the meat. It was a wonderfully illuminating experience as he recognized that his penis was coming close to explosion.
"Get ready, honey, because the big deluge is on its way," he warned her.
He reached behind her and let his fingers comb the surface of her smooth buttocks as his prick continued driving forward at a ferocious clip. This girl would be fucked and like it he thought. She would accept that pace of his which was a blistering one. He wondered if her husband or anybody else could match it. He wondered if anybody could get as excited about her as he could.
"Ah, ah, ah, I'm there, I'm there, ahhhh," he erupted.
The stream of warm liquid juice then shot out of the end of his penis. He felt exhilarated once more. In certain respects he even felt better about this fuck than he had the previous one. Sure it had been great to drill her in the mouth, but this time he had sampled the intimacy of her nest.
He got up from the bed quickly. She was quivering in pain. It had been a traumatic experience for her to be abused twice in rapid succession by this stranger. Not only did he rape her but he hurt her as well.
He took a quick look at his watch then realized it was time for him to go. He zipped up his trousers then stepped backwards toward the door continuing to hold the gun on her.
"Get off of that bed and get down on the floor." he commanded, "and stop your damned bawling. You got a good fuck and don't forget it."
She got off of the bed and laid down on her stomach just as he commanded her.
"Okay, you just make sure you keep lying that way," he said, "And don't even look up for five minutes or you're going to get drilled."
He then slipped out the door. He tiptoed toward the front of the house then made his exit. He stopped at the porch just long enough to take off his mask and slip the piece of paper where he had stored his costume out of his pocket. He slipped his costume materials along with the prank revolver into the sack. Then he walked briskly down the street heading toward where his truck was parked.
He got in the truck and drove back toward Yonkers. He would make it a point to be seen in the neighborhood where he was supposed to be working for the entire day. That way, in the event that he was to be questioned concerning his whereabouts, he could say that he had spent the afternoon in Yonkers.
CHAPTER THREE
In the days that immediately followed the rape of Julia Simpson, Ben was unable to think of anything other than the beautiful blonde he had victimized.
At first he felt exhilarated over his great accomplishment, but then after thinking about things in detail a feeling of sadness crept over him. The sadness stemmed from knowing that he would never be having sex with her again. He could not risk going back there a second time. He was happy that he had taken care of the Rye run, had checked out all the meters that had been assigned to him in the area, and that he would not be working there again in the foreseeable future. Of course there was only an outside chance that she could even recognize him if she saw him since he had disguised himself beautifully with a mask and had even taken off his gas company shirt before he had accosted her.
But there was always a risk factor involved at going back to the scene of his crime would only tend to accelerate the present condition of existing dangers.
After he forced himself to forget about Julia and to start focusing once more on other women he went back to his writing with a passion. Since he didn't have any conspicuous opportunities to achieve success with the opposite sex, he gave vent to his subliminal creative desires writing about sex as he sat down at his typewriter following the day's work.
He was envisioning another beautiful dream girl. He let his imagination flow and was pleasantly surprised at the end of every day when he would go over the work he had done.
He had drawn such a vivid picture of the girl on the paper that he could see her dancing before his very eyes. She had full black hair and all olive skin with dark darting eyes. Her lips were thick and red. As for her body it was petitely beautiful with trim but voluptuous hips and breasts. Just thinking about this girl caused him to become so excited that he had to jerk himself off.
At work during the course of a long day when he had more than sufficient opportunity to reflect on what he was doing he would wonder about his creative impulses. He wondered if he would find a girl like the one he was writing about and after he did what he would do about it. He also couldn't help but wonder if he would ever resort to the type of approach he had in the instance of the beautiful blonde to obtain sexual satisfaction.
He arrived early one morning at Yonkers to read meters in a classy suburban neighborhood. It wasn't as wealthy as the one where the beautiful blonde lived, but was nonetheless nice with neatly trimmed lawns and lovely homes.
As he got out of his truck to begin his rounds he observed a short, petite brunette walk down the front steps of her house arm in arm with her husband. The man was tall and wore a blue business suit. She walked to his car with him which was parked in the driveway adjoining the house. He bent over and delivered a stimulating parting kiss, then got into the car and drove away.
As Ben walked toward the woman who was standing just in front of the porch watching her husband drive off waving to him with a fervent smile, he was captivated by her beauty. As her husband drove out of view, her eyes continued to remain riveted in the direction where the car had disappeared. Since her eyes were looking elsewhere Ben was able to take greater liberties in looking at her.
She was very much like the girl of his dreams that he had thought up. She had the same kind of alert expression in her dark eyes that he had imputed to the girl of his own creation.
He felt the unmistakable tingle of sensation lodged in his penis as he entered her lawn and walked toward the side of the house where he could check out her meter. As he continued walking and she began walking up the steps toward the porch she looked his way and called to him.
"Can I help you with anything?" she asked him, smiling radiantly as he looked her way.
"No, I think I can find what I'm looking for. I'm your meter reader."
"Fine," she nodded, "If you need anything I'll be in the house."
"Thank you," he nodded.
Not only was she beautiful but she was also friendly. He wondered just how much friendship she would be willing to give to a guy like him. More than-likely from what he could observe the friendship would be related strictly to pla-tonic courtesies. He could not forget the way in which she looked at her husband. She was just so much like the girl that he had written about was just the person to fulfill his sexual needs. Hence he would be working in the Yonkers area for the next few weeks he decided to case the girl's house in hopes of planning an opportune time to make his move.
The one thing he was concerned about was whether anybody else lived in the house with the brunette and her husband. He dropped by the area whenever he had a few spare minutes either during his lunch break if he was working near then, before work if he had a few minutes to spare or after work when he was on his way back to the Queens.
The young girl, a beautiful Italian named Lucille had just recently married her enterprising husband Angelo Petricelli. They had met at a church dance some one year earlier and had been going together steadily ever since.
Angelo was a rising insurance executive who was able to take her to Hawaii on their honeymoon. Her entire life revolved around her husband whom she greatly admired. Since he was gone during the day it appeared that Ben Myerson had clear sailing. Every time that Ben drove by he failed to observe a car in the driveway that had pulled out and driven off the day that he read the beautiful brunette's meter. His hopes began to rise and he began plotting strategy more carefully than before.
He decided to make his move abruptly one Tuesday afternoon. He had been working not far away and had brought his costume with him.
This time he was determined to throw off the yoke of fear that he had existed under previously. He would make love to this girl and keep his cool while he was doing it.
But as he drove by that day his carefully calculated plans were completely demolished. His stomach curdled with disappointment as he saw the car that was driven by the woman's husband sitting in the driveway. He knew that he could not carry out his plans. It depressed him greatly to have these burning urges circulating in his penis and scrotum and not to be able to release them. His passions would have to find another way for outlet.
The remainder of the afternoon he felt so keenly depressed that it was difficult for him to carry out even the most routine aspects of his uneventful job. He had plotted so long and hard for that big moment when the brunette would be forced to surrender her sexual charms to him in the same way that the beautiful blonde Julia Simpson had done previously. He could not understand why on the afternoon that he had wanted to have sex with her that the woman's husband would have to be home.
Little did Ben Myerson know it, but Lucille Petricelli's husband Angelo had been given a promotion in his work. This promotion gave Petricelli more time to spend on his own. Very often he would choose to come home in that the office where he worked was not situated that far from home. That way he could have a warm home cooked meal then settle down to some paper work that could be done as easily at home, as anywhere else. This change of position was what had deprived Ben of an opportunity to get intimately acquainted with Lucille.
That night he attempted to give vent to his feelings of frustration and failure by sitting down at his typewriter and writing. He attempted to create a new character just to get his mind off of the beautiful brunette. But he was unable to do so. His thoughts were so totally dominated by her that all he could do was put forth repetitious efforts about the same woman. Every time he would finish several pages he would look down at the paper and see the same beautiful petite body and the same lovely face with the darting dark eyes.
He fixed himself a television dinner that evening, having several cans of beer with it. He hoped that the beer would take the melancholy out of his psyche. Instead the beer only served to depress him that much more. He could not seem to get his mind off the beautiful brunette.
He decided that perhaps a little television viewing might be the tonic to ease his troubled psyche. If he could get absorbed in a western, then maybe he would be able to forget, at least for the time being, the frustration he encountered that day when he found the woman's husband's car in the driveway. So he turned on the set to a John Wayne film which he hoped would retain him while in the process of easing his psyche.
He watched the film for twenty minutes, thereupon deciding that television was not the answer either. With a sigh and an air of defeated resignation he turned off the set. He strode into the kitchen and took another can of beer out of the refrigerator. He gulped down the beer swiftly but it did not prove to be a substantial tonic for forgetfulness, then any more than it had previously. Facts were unmistakably clear, he had not found an answer to his current dilemma.
He then hit upon a new idea. He concluded that perhaps the best thing to do would be to leave the apartment. Maybe a change of locale would make the difference, just as it often did. He had been drinking beer and apparently it had not been strong enough to accomplish the task. Now maybe if he did something that he only resorted to on occasion then maybe substantial change would result. He decided to visit a piano bar that was situated several miles from where he lived. The thing he liked about it was that there was a good deal of noise, something he felt he definitely needed. Generally he preferred things quiet, except when his mind was in a troubled state. On such occasions he often felt that noise was just the thing he needed to make him forget. And this was one of those evenings.
There was another reason why he preferred that particular bar. There seemed to be an inordinately large number of unescorted females drinking there. Just maybe he could find somebody who could provide him with a little companionship for the evening. Most of his efforts in that direction had been anything but successful. In short, he just couldn't seem to score in the big city. Of course, then again maybe tonight would be another matter. Maybe in his efforts to throw off the yolk of frustration which he felt as a result of his disappointment that afternoon, he would be able to achieve success with a woman.
He decided to even change his clothes for the occasion. He put on a sport outfit with brown continentals, a blue shirt and a brown jacket. He left the apartment, got into his weather-beaten Ford which had made it from South Carolina to New York and drove off. Beer had failed to even make a dent on him. At a time when he had desperately wanted to get drunk to loosen up, the alcohol had failed to achieve its purpose.
But that did not come as a big surprise to him since the same thing had happened to him in the past. He felt, however, that the new atmosphere plus the cocktails he would be drinking would accomplish the change he had sought.
Ben pulled in at the parking lot of the bar, then went inside. It was very noisy just as he had wanted it. The pianist was hammering out some hot jazz. The entire piano bar was crowded, but there were still a few places at the main bar. As his eyes circulated throughout the vast dimly lit bar he could see that a number of its patrons were already drunk.
As he looked for a seat he had one thought in mind. Which was the most strategic location in which to sit? What he really wanted was to be near an unescorted girl, and one look around the bar told him that would not be an easy objective to accomplish. There were a number of women there and many of them were distinctly attractive, but in every case that he discerned the girl was with either one or more male escorts. Since he could not find even one attractive girl unescorted he decided to sit down by himself in the corner of the bar. He ordered a Scotch and soda from the bartender which he polished off in rapid order.
He was strongly hoping that a girl would show up. Since practically all of the places at the bar were taken she would have to sit in the area near him. He finished his first drink then ordered a second. The drink contained a wallop. He knew that there was a good chance he would get drunk since mixing beer with Scotch generally did-the trick for him. He did not feel drunk on the basis of the first two drinks he sampled, but he did begin to feel a giddy lightheadedness. Through it all however, he continued to think about the beautiful brunette. He began feeling sorry for himself over all the sexual frustrations he had encountered particularly since coming to the big city.
He recalled what his older brother had told him at the time he made his decision to leave South Carolina for the big city atmosphere of New York. His brother had told him that he was a country boy and that he would just not fit in, in a sophisticated city like New York. He recalled how vigorously he had argued the point with his brother. His brother had even become surprised over the enthusiasm with which he argued his point. He normally listened to his brother regarding all matters and only rarely would he contest a point with him. But that point he was willing to contest and in a highly vigorous manner. He remembered how he had told his brother that he was determined to become a successful writer and that his hero
Thomas Wolfe from the neighboring state of North Carolina had gone to the big city and had attained success and acclaim of every conceivable description.
"Yeah, but that was Thomas Wolfe," his brother had quickly reminded him.
"And I'm Ben Myerson," he recalled how ardently he had stood up to his brother. "Just maybe Ben Myerson has what it takes to become the next Thomas Wolfe."
So far he had not become another Thomas Wolfe. He had not even been successful enough to start and finish a novel. Instead he seemed to be forever starting and ending projects. For the time being he was content to draw character portraits which he felt would eventually lead to the rootingredients of a full novel. His creative writing instructor at City College of New York had told him that the character creating approach would provide him with the practice and background necessary to serve as a prelude for going into a more advanced form of writing.
He had also felt that by coming to the big city he would immerse himself in adventure. He hoped to know a number of interesting people who could be called upon to serve as fictional characters in his works. It saddened him to think that things had not worked out that way. He had a job wherein he was very much on his own and that was precisely how he wanted it. He had felt that during his hours away from the job he would be meeting people. Instead he seemed to be vegetating in his own little insulated shell.
By the time he was half way through with his third Scotch and soda he was feeling so sorry for himself that he could hardly stand it. The drink had had precisely the opposite effect from that intended. In place of loosening him up and making him feel more happy, it had instead made him even more frustrated and depressed than he had been previously. Instead of making him forget the past, particularly the episode of that afternoon, it not only solidified that event in his consciousness but became coupled with all the anxieties and frustrations that stemmed from his conspicuously unsuccessful adjustment to New York big city life.
Just when the melancholia was hitting him the hardest he observed a dark-haired girl walking past swarms of standing customers at the back of the bar. She had come in the rear entrance and was making her way toward him. His heart stopped and he found himself desperately hoping that she would stop and sit next to him.
As she moved closer he got a better look at her. She looked like the girl he had failed to make contact with earlier that day she was a brunette. He had to admit, however, that she did not possess the same degree of powerful attractiveness that the other girl did. She did however have the unique type of sex attractiveness. She was in her late twenties or early thirties and was slightly chubby, but in a pleasingly plump rather than unpleasantly fat way. She certainly had enough in the way of attractiveness to make him react positively.
She sat down at the bar two stools removed from him. The bartender immediately appeared on the scene.
"Good evening, Daisy, how's it going?" the bartender asked with a warm smile.
"Not bad, Frank. I've had it worse," she told him in a tone that indicated general boredom.
"So what'll it be tonight, honey?" the bartender asked. "The usual?"
"Yeah, a screwdriver. It's too late to change now anyway."
"Oh, I don't know," the bartender said. "There are lots of other drinks I can make."
"Yeah, I suppose that's so. I guess I'll stick with this one though."
As Ben watched Frank the bartender move off to mix the screwdriver for the girl he called Daisy he quickly deliberated his next course of action. He wondered if he ought to pay for Daisy's drink. He did not want to get rebuffed by her but he did not either wish to lose out on an opportunity. He thought about it and decided that the only thing she could do would be to refuse his gesture. Since it was getting late in the evening and there were no other possibilities around, then it probably constituted his only chance.
Ben watched as the bartender laid the drink out in front of the girl. As she began to reach into her purse to pay for the drink, Ben took the initiative.
"I'll pay for Daisy's drink," he slid a dollar across the bar.
He looked over toward the girl smiling timidly. She took her eyes from her purse and studied him with a look of diffidence for the next few seconds. Then she said:
"I don't get it, Mister. You don't even know me."
"Just thought that I'd try and do a nice turn," he shrugged. "You look like a nice gal and it was just something I wanted to do."
Daisy studied him for a few more seconds. Then she nodded and said:
"Okay, thank you, Mister."
They watched as Frank the bartender picked up the dollar off the bar.
"Thanks," Frank nodded.
As Frank walked away Ben decided that his time had arrived to press the initiative.
"By the way, my name isn't Mister. It's Ben. I'd rather you call me that. When people call me Mister it gets me to thinking that I'm an old man or something."
"You know I never thought about it, but maybe that's true," she burst into quick laughter. She then gave him a friendly smile. It made him think that perhaps she was every bit as lonely as he was which meant that perhaps he would encounter success in dealing with her.
"Do you mind if I sit next to you?" he said.
"No, the least I can do is talk to you. It was nice of you to buy me that drink."
"Think nothing of it," he grinned. He got up from his stool and slid down to where she was sitting occupying the stool next to her.
Ben continued buying crazy drinks. He also bought himself a plentiful number. Quickly they both slipped away into drunken states. The more that Daisy had to drink the more conversational she became. It turned out that she was every bit as depressed about things as he had been when he came into the bar. But the more she talked about what upset her the better it appeared to make her feel.
"I work as a secretary and I'm getting so pissed off at my boss that one of these days I'm just liable to tell him to shove it," she looked at him and said, giggling drunkenly. "Have you ever had a boss you felt that way about?"
"Yeah, once when I was in high school in South Carolina. I worked for this guy part-time at a feed store. I got so teed off at him that I did tell him where he could shove it."
"Beautiful, beautiful," she burst into laughter.
"But I don't think I'd do it now if I were you." "How come?" she looked at him curiously. "Well, do you have anywhere else to go?" "No, not right now."
"That's what I mean. If you had another job then you could get away with it. With me when I pulled this stunt as a kid I had somewhere else I could go. Another thing you've got to think about is your reference. You might be needing this guy someday to say something good about you, even if you think he's a son of a bitch."
"I guess your right," she agreed with a reluctant shrug. "But it really wears on me sometimes. As a matter-of-fact this whole damned city wears on me a lot. It can really get to be a pain in the ass, and I ought to know because I've lived here my whole life. It can be the coldest damndest place in the whole world."
"I wouldn't want to go that far."
"Yeah, but honey you haven't been here that long. I have."
"I guess you got me there anyway." Finally after lengthy conversation and a great deal of drinking Daisy suddenly lifted her body from her stool. Her body quivered slightly from all the alcohol she had consumed.
"Well, I guess I'd better be getting home before I get so drunk I can't even walk," she said with a wistful smile.
"Listen, baby. Why don't you let me give you a ride."
"That's so sweet of you. You've been so good to me."
"Well you've been good to me." "How do you mean?"
"I've enjoyed having somebody to talk to. And it's always particularly nice when that somebody happens to be an attractive young girl."
"How nice of you to say," she laughed.
"So can I give you a ride home in my car?" he repeated his question.
"Yes, I'd like that. I'd really appreciate it. This is, providing it wouldn't inconvenience you any."
"It wouldn't inconvenience me at all," he told her.
They left the bar and went quickly to the parking lot. They got into Ben's old Ford and drove away. Daisy lived in an apartment a few blocks away from the bar. Ben parked his car in front of it wondering if their relationship would be progressing any further. Up to that, point things had progressed beautifully, he thought, and it was his fervent hope that they would continue to progress in the same fashion.
"Would you like to come in and have a drink with me?" she asked.
Suddenly Ben began to feel like a man who had conquered the world. He was being asked into her apartment for the specific purpose of having a drink with her. In his estimation that could mean only one thing, that she was eager to prolong the evening's activities and that with any amount of luck he would have a good opportunity to end up in bed with her. It was just the kind of satisfaction that his body and ego required. Even though he was drunk and on the drowsy side, his penis and scrotum were in an itchy turmoil. He had been so eager to go to bed with the beautiful brunette that afternoon and his wishes had been squelched. Now perhaps hours later he would receive the opportunity to achieve what he had not been able to accomplish earlier.
He walked up the steps with her which led inside the apartment building. They walked down a long narrow hall with an antiseptic odor finally reaching Daisy's room. It took great effort for her to slip the key in the door and open it. Her vision was slightly on the blurry side from all the drinking that she had done.
They went inside and she asked him to be seated on the sofa in the living room. Then she quickly mixed them screwdrivers. Ben did not particularly want to change drinks at that stage. He would have preferred sticking with scotch and soda, but in that she did not have any scotch he was forced to endure a screwdriver.
He watched her with a look of increasing arousal as she walked into the living room holding a drink in each hand. She sat down next to him handing him a drink. She kept the other taking a long sip from her glass then setting it down on a table in front of her.
He decided to seize on his opportunity fast. She was smiling at him eagerly which he construed as a good sign. He threw his left arm around her shoulder. She then quickly curled up in his arms. He could see that she was becoming increasingly groggier from the drinks she had had. He hoped that she would not be too far gone to engage in sex.
Ben leaned forward. His penis was throbbing with excitement as he delivered a swift and decisive kiss to her lips. Much to his joy the kiss seemed to push her onward. She pushed her head forward and their lips met a second time. The second kiss was considerably more decisive than the first largely because this time Daisy was putting a good deal into her effort.
Just as he was becoming increasingly more excited and thinking about the imminent possibility of a trip to the bedroom and just as he was getting ready to slip his tongue inside her mouth for a passionate French kiss, Ben was startled by the sound of the door suddenly opening. He turned and observed a bespectacled heavy set woman with gray hair standing before him. Her eyes were red and her posture unsteady. She looked at Ben for several seconds after which her eyes shifted to Daisy's.
"I should have known, I should have known," she slurred her words with drunken disgust.
"What's with you mother?" Daisy inquired.
"You dumb little slut," the older woman attacked her vigorously. "I can always count on you pulling something like this when I go out."
"Can't I have a little freedom?" Daisy began to sob. "You've had your share of fucks in your life. Why can't I have a little fun if I want it? I just had this guy up here for drinks and a little companionship. And what is so wrong with that?"
"Everything's wrong with it," the woman exploded. "Did you tell him that you've got two young kids asleep in there, but that you never even got married? Did you tell him of all those guys who bang you? They were just like this drunken clown sitting here. They were guys who were out for a good time. Well, they had a good time at your expense and just where are you? Nah, you'd never find a guy with honorable intentions. It's always somebody like this," she ended her denunciation by pointing an accusing finger in Ben's direction.
"Look, lady, I don't know anything about this," Ben said. "And I don't see any reason for you to be knocking me."
"I'm trying to protect my little girl, that's what I'm trying to do. Now I wish you would just get up and leave. If you so much as try anything on either me or my baby, then I'll call the police, and I'll call them fast."
"Look I might have had some designs on Daisy, but I sure as hell have no designs on you." He got up from the sofa and said petulantly.
"I don't intend to stand here and be insulted," the woman said.
"If you take that as an insult then it's your tough luck," he shrugged as he walked toward the door.
"I'm sorry, Ben, I really am," Daisy sobbed.
"I don't blame you for anything, Daisy," he said sadly. Now his hand was on the door. He was ready to leave.
"You can walk out that door and don't let it hit you in the ass on the way out," Daisy's mother said.
"You don't have much class," Ben delivered his last parting shot.
"Fuck you," she said antagonistically.
He closed the door behind him and heard loud conversation as he walked down the hall. He shook his head with disgust. Once more he had been flaunted in an attempt to make contact with the opposite sex.
CHAPTER FOUR
Frustrated over his ill luck with the opposite sex, particularly his unsuccessful escapades in the bars of New York, Ben Myerson went back to plotting another big score.
Thoughts of the beautiful brunette remained paramount in his mind and he turned his attentions toward getting an opportunity to do to her what he had done to the beautiful blonde Julia Simpson.
He was happy that his work schedule forced him to remain in the Yonkers area. That put him close touch with the house of the beautiful woman. Twice he had gone by intending to stop but on both occasions the car belonging to her husband was there. He began experiencing misgivings thinking that it would be too risky for him to stop there at all. But in spite of the misgivings he still felt unmistakable strong pangs of desire inside him. And in the evenings when he would sit down before his typewriter he found himself always writing about this woman.
One morning when he was in his truck heading toward Yonkers he thought about stopping at the brunette's house early. The more he thought about it the better the idea struck him. He had been driving by early in the afternoon. If he waited until her husband left in the morning then he would immediately be able to obtain entrance. Her husband was not-likely to turn around and come back home that early in the morning.
At any rate he decided that it was worth looking into. He could juggle his schedule and make his calls on the street where he was assigned work at a later hour. Even if he had to work a little late that evening it would be fine with him. Anything would be worth while just as long as he succeeded with this beautiful woman whose memory had haunted him on so many occasions. Just two nights earlier he recalled awakening in the middle of the night, his thoughts quickly focusing on her. He imagined what it would be like having her lying in bed next to him.
Ben realized that he would never be able to experience the luxury of having this beautiful brunette sharing his bed with him. The only way he could achieve success would be would through forcing his way into her bedroom. And if that is what had to be done then he was all for it.
He turned down the street where she lived. As he moved toward the house butterflies surfaced in the pit of his stomach. His penis was as hard as a rock as he anticipated sexual adventure. Now his future rested with the fates. As he drove up by the house he looked at his watch and observed the front door opening. He stopped his truck down at the end of the street. He watched the developing action in the rear view mirror.
Lucille and her husband Angelo walked out the door and toward the car in the driveway. They were arm in arm just as they had been the first time when he had seen her. He watched with great envy as the beautiful brunette reached up and delivered a solid kiss to her husbands lips. He then got into the car and drove off. A triumphant smile surfaced on Ben Myerson's lips as he watched Angelo's car drive past him and disappear down the street.
"At long last I'm in luck," Ben said.
Ben opened the glove compartment and fished out his trusty costume. He got out of the car and walked toward the house. The closer he got the hornier he felt. His prick was dying to be released from the inner confines of his trousers.
He hungrily desired action. He was even more aroused this time than he had been on the occasion when he had broken into Julia Simpson's house. That first experience had whetted his appetite for more. And in addition the frustrations he had encountered since then coupled with his flaming desires had made it all the more imperative for him to achieve a meaningful score.
As he reached the sidewalk of the house his steps picked up noticeably. He reached the front door. He ducked into an inconspicuous corner long enough to put on his costume and hold his prank revolver in his right hand.
Ben rang the doorbell. Seconds later he heard footsteps. The nearer they came the harder and faster his heart pounded. He had to have this beautiful woman.
The moment that the beautiful brunette opened the door her jaw dropped with intense fear. She did not know what to make of this intrusion. She was so dumbfounded by the suddenness of the development that she said nothing.
"Aren't you going to ask me in?" he asked pointing the gun at her menacingly.
"Yes, come in," she said in a whisper. She held the door open for him and he entered.
"Thank you," he bowed gracefully. "You keep taking orders like a good girl and I won't harm any hairs on that pretty little head." To emphasize his point he took his left hand, the one that was not holding the gun and ran his fingers through her hair. She flinched but did not say anything.
"If you want anything I'll be glad to give it to you," she said. "But there isn't much money around the house, honest there isn't."
"You silly girl,' he laughed robustly. "I didn't come to take your money. I came because I wanted to get acquainted with you."
"Please don't hurt me," she looked at him pleadingly. "I've tried to live a good life and I never knowingly hurt anyone. Why don't you give me a break."
"Why don't you shut up. You can show me the bedroom now, baby. I think that we'll be spending quite a bit of time in there."
Her body trembled from an acute state of fear as she led him down the hall and into the bedroom. He looked around the bedroom quickly, nodded his approval then said:
"Okay, now you can get that dress off. I want you just as naked as the day you were born."
He could tell from the pained expression in her eyes that she hated to abide by his request. But he was also confident that in that he was definitely in the driver's seat she would not turn him down.
As she began slowly unbuttoning her dress he became seized by a violent torrent of passion. Suddenly all the frustrations he had encountered in his past sexual life were dramatically surfacing. His fingers trembled with hungry desire. He felt that he absolutely had to have this woman at that very second. He did not like the slow manner in which she was undressing. If she felt that reluctant about doing what he had demanded then perhaps it was up to him to teach her a lesson and demonstrate just how he expected things to be done.
As he walked menacingly toward her, she ceased undoing the buttons. She stood stiffly wondering if perhaps he would fire the gun at her. As she stood there in a state of tragic fear he made his move.
With his free left hand he reached out toward the front of her dress. He grabbed the top of it and applied pressure until it ripped. Then he let his fingers slice downward as he tore her dress. She began to cry which made him angry.
"Shut up, you bitch," he told her. "You'd better do what I say or you'll get the back of my hand or worse."
Her cries quickly faded to a whine. Then they died out altogether.
He moved around behind her and ripped the back of her dress as well. By then he had unquestionably succeeded in his attempt to thoroughly scare her.
"If you'll be a good girl and do what I say then I'll let you finish the job. Otherwise I'll rip this dress off seam by seam."
Not wanting to be subjected to any more rude attacks she quickly undid her dress pulling it off. He then got a splendid look at her body as she stood before him clad only in her panties and bra. He thrust his left hand forward and let his fingers slip inside her bra to her breasts. He worked his fingers around the smooth firm crevices of flesh with precise and thorough movement. It felt wonderful to him to once again feel the breasts of a beautiful woman. He liked the way that they were shaped so firmly and voluptuously.
Ben was so enchanted by the smoothness of her skin that he let the fingers of his hand work their way gradually downward toward her navel. He pinched her stomach several times, then let his fingers continue traveling in a downward fashion. He let himself have some fun with her panties as he ran his fingers over them several times.
Then he made his most daring move to that point. He let the fingers of his left hand slip underneath the panties. He was overjoyed to feel the tuft of pubic hair as he worked his fingers toward her nest. When his fingers finally found their way to her snatch she cringed once more. And as she cringed she closed her eyes. She felt totally humiliated. Here was a stranger who had broken into her house and was using her as a plaything.
"You're too damned sensitive for your own good, you silly broad," he told her. "You'd just better learn how to get along with me. I don't like being treated like a bad case of the measles. As a matter-of-fact I won't stand for it. I don't like your attitute one damned bit."
Lucille Petricelli did her best to put up a brave front but it was difficult to disguise her true feelings. She tried to smile but it was not a very convincing one. Certainly not convincing enough to indicate any hope for optimism to Ben. He decided that he would have to fashion his own adventure in his own way without any cooperation from her.
But the more he stared at that gorgeous body the more aroused his entire body became. There was an unmistakable itchiness within him that now carried from the top of his head down to his toes. It was particularly hot in his cock and balls. After a long period away from satisfying sex he was hopeful of making up for lost time with this gorgeous woman.
He had to admit to himself that she had everything going for her to arouse any man. In that sense she was very much like the beautiful blonde he had raped. Her breasts were so smooth, smooth yet firm that he could have spent his time just running his fingers over them. That is, if it weren't for the fact that there were other things he could also do to occupy his needs and desires. As for her legs they were smooth and petite. He slipped his fingers out of her nest and tan them up and down her right leg. He liked its smooth firmness which reminded him of the flesh around her breasts.
He finally removed his fingers from her leg and said:
"Okay, honey, I don't want to be kept in suspense any longer. Peel off the rest of those garments before I have to rip them off."
He watched with great interest as she undid her bra, unhooking it and letting it drop to the floor.
"What a beautiful set of tits," he told her. "Okay, honey, now just get out of those panties and everything will be fine."
She stepped quickly out of her panties, standing before him naked. His eyes continued flipping up and down quickly. For a while they would be enchanted by her. rich flowing breasts. Then he would become aroused by the sight of her box.
He moved over toward her continuing to hold the gun out menacingly in his right hand. It was amazing just how much he could accomplish through his trickery he thought. He threw his left arm around her body and pulled her toward him. He then shoved his lips forward and let them plunge eagerly against hers. He held his breath and enjoyed the passions of the moment. The burning urges continued to reverberate through his body as he kissed her three times in rapid succession.
His next move was to slip his tongue inside her mouth. Even though she did not want to she opened her mouth and allowed his tongue latitude. He let his tongue stab against hers for several fast vigorous strokes. Then he wrapped his tongue around hers letting the two tongues lock eagerly.
Now his cock was eagerly desirous of explosion. The fantastic sensation of having his tongue slip against hers was too much for him. The intimate contact extended his passions to their very ultimate. A piercing fire swept through his entire body. And as he withdrew his tongue from her mouth he got a look at the expression on her face.
It angered him to observe that she appeared anything but impressed by what was going on. She had a glum look on her face such as one would expect to see from someone in the midst of terrible suffering. He was angered to his very roots. Here he was magnanimously turned on by her and she was impressed by the prospect of having sex with her. He wanted to go the entire route with her in the sense of bedroom action and it angered him to see that she was only tolerating him.
In his state of anger he decided that it would be a good idea to see what she would do if she were exposed to real suffering. So he reached put with his trusty left hand and began pinching her left breast.
"Oh, please don't hurt me," she exclaimed.
"I wanted to bring some kind of excitement to you. You didn't seem very happy with the way things were going. Well you've got a lesson to learn, baby."
"Please, please, don't hurt me."
He ignored her plea and went back to work. He let his fingernails rip into her skin until he broke the skin and blood surfaced. Then he went to work systematically on her right breast. Once more his fingers were more than capable of meeting the task. Initially they worked their way over the skin in pinching fashion. Then he let his fingernails dig into the skin. Again he achieved his objective, that of breaking the skin and causing blood to appear.
"Go over and lie down on that bed," he told her. "Just stretch out and make yourself comfortable. Lie on your back baby. You oughta get used to lying on your back for guys like me. No I'll bet you're too good for that. Everything about you tells me that you think you're too good for me. Is that right?"
"No, I don't think I'm better than anybody."
"You damned little liar," he laughed sarcastically. "I can tell by the way you look at me just what you think. It isn't a very pretty picture either. But I'll open those eyes of yours a little before I'm through."
He watched her as she lay there. She did look appealing. He only wished that he could have her in the same way that her husband did. Whereas he had to use his imagination to grab a few stolen moments with her, the beautiful brunette gave of herself willingly to her husband. But since he could not be in that selective position he could still do the next best thing. He could make the most of his situation as it existed right then.
As Ben stood before her admiring her beautiful nude form he wondered what he should demand first. She angered him by her Jack of anxiety. The blonde had been more cooperative. This girl it was perfectly evident was succumbing to his desires only because she was afraid that if she did not she would have her head blown off. He thought that the quickest and most expedient means of injecting some discipline into her would be to force her to blow him. Perhaps he decided the throat fuck routine he had used on Julia Simpson would be ideally suited to show this beautiful brunette who was boss.
Ben reached down and unzipped his trousers. He pulled out his iron-like rod and massaged it briskly several times. After letting his fingers travel over the elongated rod several times he slipped his body downward getting into bed with Lucille Petricelli. He edged forward on his knees his penis moving ever closer to her. She watched his red rock hard dong with great interest. She was aware that he would be subjecting her to some type of activity and the only question in her mind was what that particular activity would be. She remained fearful that he would hurt her some more just as he had hurt her by pinching and scratching her breasts. She vowed not to show displeasure no matter how difficult that would be. She could not afford to in that he would only make things that much tougher on her if she did.
He perched his body over her mouth.
"Open that mouth up and give my cock room to slip inside," he told her.
Lucille opened her mouth widely. She was not about to say a word unless she had to. She was aware that every time she had spoken to him she had only antagonized him. Lucille wanted to get this entire hellish experience over with as fast as she could and felt that by cooperating or at least by tolerating him she could succeed in that objective to a greater degree.
"Okay, baby, I'm gonna ram this in your mouth," he told her.
Once more she was terror stricken as she looked at him. She did not want this man's huge member driving into her mouth. Not only was he demanding a suck but he was demanding it in his own way. He was not just demanding that she run her tongue up and down the length of his erect instrument. He was insisting that he ram that huge pecker high and hard into her mouth.
He began at a slow pace pushing the penis into her smoothly. He enjoyed dominating the situation. That was why he liked this particular style of sucking. On this occasion he was strictly the man in charge and his victim was powerless to do anything about it. He would not even let her protest. And in addition since she was in such a subservient capacity it would have been extremely difficult for her to even lodge a protest. He stuffed the huge stick into her. His first few stabs were largely experimental, but gradually he began to push more of his prick into her.
Before long Lucille was having difficulty breathing. He was shoving his dick far into her. It was scraping the very base of her throat. She was unable to do anything other than utter a helpless sigh occasionally.
As for him he allowed his aroused body all the freedom of movement that it could possibly bring to bear. He shoved back and forth his body trembling vigorously, as he shoved his huge dong into her. He could see the misery imprinted all over her face and it only served to incense him and make him all the more oblivious to her pain. He could not figure out why these women were not willing to accept anything he had to offer, particularly when he had such a long proud phallus.
At one point when he saw that look of misery in her face he became so angry that he decided to hurt her some more. He reached out and tugged hard at her hair as he continued stuffing his erect prong inside her mouth.
Now he was drilling her with everything he had in him. He sensed that an orgasm was on the way, and that he would shortly be expelling his juices in her mouth. He was setting a blistering pace letting his body move flowingly back and forth. His breathing began to come in puffy gasps and the sensations he felt within his cock and balls were even more intense than they had been before.
"Get ready, honey, for the big deluge," he proudly announced as his body swayed back and forth. He delivered cock to her at a furious clip pushing it so deeply inside her that she was even having difficulty gasping.
Ben clasped his fingers around her hair even more fervently than before as he continued pummeling her with his savage rapier-like cock stabs.
"Oh, oh, oh, this is it, I'm there, I'm there, I'm there," he suddenly announced.
She didn't even have time to brace herself for the prolific spray of juice which shot into her mouth. She immediately began coughing and gagging.
He became so instantly angered by her coughing and gagging that he pulled on her hair all the harder. It made him furious to think that his beautiful sperm was not being appreciated by this girl.
"Stop coughing," he barked. "You swallow every drop of that damned juice. I don't want you spitting it out."
But she spit some of it out anyway. It happened against her personal wishes. She began coughing so hard that it was not possible for her to digest all of his load. She swallowed all that she could and the remainder dribbled out of her mouth and hit the floor.
"How damned disgusting," he exploded letting go of her hair. "Your lucky to get a load like that. You ought to appreciate it."
"I'm awfully sorry," she apologized.
"Aw hell, you've been sorry ever since I came in here. You're just one sorry broad, aren't you?"
"I guess so."
"I think I'll do something that will make you real sorry. Either that or it will make a woman out of you. Boy if I were married to you, a lot of changes would be made. You'd learn how to suck cock, that something you'd learn."
"I don't do it very often with my husband," she admitted. I've never done it the way you just did it to me. Maybe that's why I wasn't any better at it than I was."
"I have a hunch it was some other reason. I have a hunch that it was because you just happen to hate my guts."
"No, no, that wasn't it," she protested. She realized that her best chances of extricating herself from this painful predicament probably would stem through playing successfully to his neurosis. Perhaps if she could convince him that she did like him, then he would treat her more decently.
"So you're trying to tell me that you don't dislike me, huh?" he said.
"As a matter-of-fact I like you. But try not to treat me so rough."
"You know what I think?" he looked her squarely in the eyes.
"What?" she asked curiously.
"I think you're full of shit. You're just handing me a big line of crap because your afraid of me. I've seen those expressions on your face and baby, you weren't lying then. You've got a real deceitful side to you that I can't stand. If you think I'm going to believe this kind of nonsense then you've got something else coming."
Lucile realized by then that the situation was practically hopeless. The best she could do she finally reasoned was to keep her mouth shut. Even then he was-likely to do precisely what he wanted before letting her go. It was just that if she did maintain a policy of silence he probably wouldn't want to beat her any more savagely than he otherwise would, on his own. She could see that he was shrewd enough not to fall for any pitches. She had made her displeasure felt in a number of ways and nothing that she could say or do at this late stage of the game was-likely to make him change his mind.
She watched as he got up from the bed and walked for several seconds. He paced up and down the room. He looked like a man who was contemplating his next course of action. Several times she noticed him looking down toward her box and her buttocks cheeks.
"That's mighty gorgeous scenery down there," he chuckled.
He walked back toward the bed and lowered his body down into it. That gun she was forever fearful of remained pointed toward her, reminding her that she was his captive. Ben let his fingers travel vigorously around her box. He began slowly stroking her nest then worked up the tempo until he was proceeding at a brisk clip. He loved every hair of her snatch. He would have considered eating her at that time if it were not for the fact that he was thinking about something else, that he felt needed to be done immediately.
He let his fingers go to work on her buttocks cheeks. He loved the touch of that smooth yet firm skin. He liked letting his fingers sink deeply into the crevices.
"You know, honey, you might have the cutest cheeks in town. I just love running my fingers over them," he said. "That pretty ass of yours is going to get quite a workout from me. It's so smooth that I'll bet it's nice and tight inside. Does your old man ever bugger you?"
"I don't know what you mean," she told him truthfully.
"Either you're awfully stupid or an awful big liar," he laughed loudly, continuing to run his fingers over her skin. "I'm talking about sodomy, the act of a guy ramming his big dick up into a girl's ass. You mean to say you don't know anything about that?"
"Not much," she admitted quietly.
"Has your husband ever given it to you that way?"
"No, I've never had it that way."
"Then you really do have a lot to learn and I'll be the perfect teacher." He ended his statement by reaching back and slapping her on the buttocks. Her body shook as a result of his thrust. But she was shaking for more reasons than that. She was petrified at the thought of that huge cock drilling high and hard inside her anus.
"Yes, baby, you've got a nice fucking ass, and I'm going to make the most of it," he proudly proclaimed.
The pangs of torrid passion rippled through him as he prepared for his big landslide. The longer he looked at the beautiful body stretched out before him the more eager he became to undertake the act.
He fitted a pillow underneath her buttocks to provide him with a better angle then prepared to make his initial penetration.
He moved his penis forward, his eyes steadily trained on the inviting anus of Lucille.
He slipped his prick inside her ass-hole and let out a loud grunt. Just as he was emitting the grunt she cried out in pain.
"Keep that up and I'll drill you right in the head," he held up the gun, pointing it directly toward her.
Then he set it down next to him letting her know that it remained handy for any work that needed to be done. He had to chuckle to himself every time he thought of it. That gun had been his ticket to outstanding success benefits. She had employed a little ingenuity and was reaping the benefits.
He reared back and let his body sally forth for a second time. He drilled her anus even harder on the second occasion than he had on the first. He was working himself into the midst of a passionate ordeal in which he would explode his ripe and flowing juices in her anus.
The longer his eyes remained fixed on that trim lovely form the more excited he became. Just looking at her nude body proved the ideal tonic to provide him with unmitigated passions.
He used his searing rod as a threshing machine. Now he was drilling at a feverish pace sticking his hot and hard dick into her as hard as he could. The aroused penis stabbed her more effectively than before. He was eager to enjoy himself while on the way to release of his pent up anxieties.
At first his movements had been a bit on the jerky side as he sought to find the range. But soon he had developed a systematized pace. His movements were flowing and fluid as he pumped his penis into her, vigorously slamming it high and hard into her anus.
He was hurting her so much that, every once in a while, she let out a painful gasp. She did her best to hold back any such manifestations of pain in that she felt, if she gave vent to such feelings, he would only make it that much more difficult on her.
In the meantime, his cock continued to race, merging with a sense of adventure and he moved that much closer toward his goal, that of getting his rocks off inside her.
The closer he drew toward orgasm the more necessary he felt it was to compliment his actions with additional movement. He reached down with his hands and began pinching the pliable skin of her ass cheeks. He pinched good and hard, determined to make her hurt, determined to make her understand that he was in full command of the situation.
He did not like her groans and sighs. He decided that the best way to do something about them was to give her additional reason to groan. For that reason he knifed forward delivering swift decisive strokes. And as he did so he continued pinching her ass cheeks, determined to make her hurt.
He held on tightly, gripping her as fervently as he knew how, and in the meantime he was shoving his pecker back and forth, pushing eagerly and energetically as he moved toward his ultimate goal.
"Oh, oh, baby," he gasped. "I'm really gonna stick it to you. I'm really gonna make you hurt before it's all over. I'm gonna pump the hell out of that beautiful ass-hole of yours. I'm gonna make you my woman and your going to love every fucking second of it."
He made good on his promise pumping so hard that his prick was shoving as deeply inside her as it would go. He abruptly ceased his efforts on her ass cheeks. He put his fingers to work on her breasts. His first few movements on her lovely flowing tits were smooth and easy. But as he became more excited and as the stored up juices inside his scrotum and cock became all the more intense, he began prying on her breasts with his fingers. He began exercising them in pinching fashion as she winced from the cumulative pain which was centered both in her breasts and anus. He was pumping frantically as he reached the final stages of pre-orgasmic exhilaration.
Now he felt a burning itch inside his cock and balls that would not go away. With every additional stab he became that much more excited. He was in the midst of a swirling gale of passionate excitement as his prick drove with feverish intensity.
"Oh, but, you're good and tight," he exclaimed to her. It's so nice and tight that I can't believe it. It's great, so great, I've got to get my rocks off, I've got to get them off fast."
She could tell from the sense of urgency with which he expressed himself that the explosion was well on its way. She longed for the moment that he would release his warm juices from the end of his prick. It was not until then, she recognized, that she would attain a measure of relief. Perhaps, she felt, after he got his rocks off this terrible searing pain which plagued her would go away.
The burning sensation continued in her anus as he sliced ever forward with his burning rod. And as he moved into those excited final stages he pinched her breasts that much more forcefully. Now he was pushing forward at fever pitch, determined to let all his passions be released in a torrent of passion.
"Get ready for the big storm," he announced. A feeling of triumph swept through him as he recognized that he stood on the verge of orgasmic release.
His heart beat savagely as he pushed himself into the final stages of the act. He was now able to unleash feelings of frustration and exotic anxiety that he had felt ever since coming to the big city. He had not been able to make contact with women, and the frustrations of being by himself and knowing virtually none except a few co-workers and some bartenders and bar acquaintances sprinkled around the grains. But now he was getting to know some beautiful women even though it had been through no choice of theirs. He was able to get his rocks off and achieve a sense of triumphant adventure in the process. This wasn't just a case of going to a woman's apartment or house. It was an exotic and a simulating ordeal in which he was forced to bring his wits to bear to achieve his desired end.
"Oh, oh, oh, I'm there, I'm there," he announced.
She closed her eyes and her body quivered as she felt the sea of sperm shooting voluminously into her anus.
A feeling of splendor circulated through his body as he dispelled his passions in her. Once more he had had a productive orgasm. Once again his flowing juices had been unleashed in a sea of joy.
As he released his prick from her ass-hole, he thought to himself about a woman's husband, wondering whether the husband handled his wife in that manner, and, if he did, how frequently he did it that way.
The more that he thought about it the stronger he believed that the husband never performed sex with her in that manner. She had appeared to be in intense pain from the outset of the act, which told him that she was probably unaccustomed to engaging in such an activity. That made it all the more worthwhile for him to do it to her in that manner. Now she was being educated in other avenues of sex, including avenues which she had not previously traversed. In fact, educating the women proved to be one of the most stimulating aspects of his sex relationships with them. He liked to think that these beautiful women needed somebody like him to show them what sex was really all about, and he was more than happy to cooperate in that endeavor.
Now she lay on the bed sobbing. She could still feel the penetrating hurts where he had drilled her anus with his searing spear. The rest of her body hurt as well. He had subjected her breasts to a good deal of torture with his pinching finger movements, and her buttocks cheeks also felt acute pain from the manner in which he subjected them to pain with his fingers.
What caused her to hurt the worst, however, was what the entire ordeal had done to her psyche. She wanted to be faithful to her husband and felt a sense of tragedy over being brutally raped by this terrible man.
As Ben stood before her and zipped up his trousers, he looked down at her with disgust. In the final analysis, he thought, she was just like the beautiful blonde he had done it to. She was just a big cry baby as far as he was concerned. Sure, she was beautiful, but why, he asked himself, was she not able to better endure the activity to which he subjected her?
The more he thought about it the more apparent it became to him that he would have to act as the man to make these women responsible. He would have to teach them a little something about the facts of life. It was apparent to him from his efforts with the blonde and the brunette that they did not really know what sex and lovemaking were all about.
As he picked up his gun and walked toward the door, he turned around and told her:
"You can stop your bawling now, honey. I'm going to be leaving. I gave you a beautiful time, even if you're too dumb to realize it."
She lifted her head from the bed and blinked her tear stained eyes. She looked up at him, her face revealing both pain and relief. The relief stemmed from the knowledge that he would be leaving.
"You spoiled broads really give me a pain in the ass," he told her. "It was funny that I said that, since I guess I gave you quite a pain in the ass." He ended his comment with a sardonic little laugh.
He then forced her to lie down on the floor, just as he had forced the blonde after finishing his sex episode with her. Then he issued one final warning:
"You look up before ten minutes and you'll get your beautiful head blown off. Do you understand, honey?"
"Yes, I understand," she replied in a low trembling voice.
"That's good. Now we understand each other."
As she crouched down on the floor, still trembling, he made a quiet exit from the house.
Before he left, however, he took off his costume. He grinned with satisfaction as he made it back to his truck and drove away without any difficulties.
Once more, he thought, he had scored a big success.
CHAPTER FIVE
Ben Myerson was even more pleased with his second performance than he had been with his first. He thought that he had handled himself a little more coolly than he had on the first occasion.
He realized that, with the benefit of experience, he could continue making strides in his ability to succeed with the opposite sex. Even though there was still a side of him that felt very much left out of things as a result of the fact that he did not have a woman he could call his own, he felt much less lonely and frustrated as a result of his experiences. He felt that he did have a means of obtaining sexual release, and with women far more beautiful and successful than those he was in a position to associate with.
His efforts with the blonde and the brunette also provided him with significant background material for his writing. He immediately launched into a novel. It was a far more ambitious undertaking than any that he had put forward to that date. The sex successes had instilled a new vigor into him which carried to the very core of his soul. For the next two weeks he spent his spare time away from his work working laboriously on his new book. Whenever he felt the need for sexual outlet he would jerk himself off until satisfaction had been obtained.
It also gave him a thrill to know that his handiwork was being reported on television and in the local newspapers. The New York police had deduced that the man who raped the young Lucille Petricelli was the same person who had sexually abused Julia Simpson.
It also made him laugh to realize that they had even pinned a name on him. They were calling him the masked rapist. The notoriety made him feel that he had finally arrived in the big city. People were finally beginning to take notice of his exploits. He had high hopes for his literary pursuits as well, and was determined to see that his efforts in that direction were well received as well.
After his long period of tenacious writing, that which had driven him to such extended lengths in the past suddenly resurfaced. He once more felt the tingling urge, the imperative need for sexual contact with a beautiful female. As he went through his routine job paces he began to pay careful attention to the housewives he encountered in the plush suburban areas he serviced. He began feeling fortunate about having such lucrative outlets for his activities. After all, he realized, many of these women were beautiful, and a number of them were at home by themselves during at least a portion of the day.
Now it was just a matter of finding the right woman. Or rather, as he preferred to think of it, a case of finding the most vulnerable woman. His eyes remained ever alert in search of that objective.
One crisp and chilly early November afternoon he was reading meters in Great Neck. As he moved toward the entrance to a backyard, he heard the commotion of loud conversation emanating from that yard.
He thought very little about the sounds, recognizing that the female voices he heard indicated that some type of meeting was in progress. As he was reading the meter one loud and clear female voice seized the initiative. At that point the other voices ceased being heard.
As he read the meter he took a look over the ivy-covered fence and observed a group of women sitting in chairs. There was a table in front of the chairs and an attractive, bosomy woman in her middle thirties was doing the talking.
Her eyes finally met his. Even in the distance he was able to detect something in the form of a look of discontent on her face.
All of a sudden he observed her walking toward him. He ceased working and stood abruptly, waiting for her to close the gap which separated them.
"Excuse me a moment, ladies," he heard her tell her audience in a piqued tone.
Ben was bewildered that she had stopped talking to apparently come over and say something to him. He stood near the gate and smiled broadly as she neared him, hoping to make a favorable impression on her.
"What's the meaning of all this?" she asked him in a peevish tone.
"I'm the meter reader, ma'am," he explained calmly.
"Just what gives you people the idea that you can just burst in on anybody anytime that you please?" she glared at him icily. He could not understand what had made her so angry.
"I suppose that I could have asked permission," he told her, "But you were busy. Usually people don't mind. I don't make much noise and my work is usually over with quickly."
"Well I don't like my train of thought interrupted by some impudent meter man suddenly jumping on the scene. You interrupted my train of thought. This is an important woman's gathering on behalf of a charitable cause that we're all associated with. So you come bursting on the scene and spoil my train of thought. I don't like it one bit:"
"I'm sorry," he tried to placate her. "I didn't mean to be rude."
"You look sorry, you big drip," she told him. "I've got a good mind to report you to your boss. You've got one hell of a lot of nerve pulling something like this on me."
"Lookit, I said I was sorry," he snapped. Suddenly Ben Myerson's patience was beginning to wear thin. "You've already wasted more time beating your gums than I would've taken to read your meter. So the problem is yours, not mine."
"I won't be talked to in such a way by some impudent meter reader," she shrieked with indigence. At that point the other woman were staring at what was going on.
"Look, lady, I don't know your problem and I don't really care. I came here to read your meter, and I'm sick and tired of taking your lousy guff. I don't like it and I'm the one who doesn't want to listen any more. So good day, ma'am, and good riddance."
"I will report you to your boss," she erupted angrily as he began to walk away.
"If it will make you feel that much better, lady, then go right ahead," he told her.
Even though he remained calm on the outer surface, inside Ben Myerson was seething. He was not the kind of man who liked to take that kind of lip from a woman.
"I'll have to remember this place," he told himself quietly as he walked toward the house next door.
CHAPTER SIX
One afternoon following work, Ben, as was his normal custom, dropped off his truck at the gas company yard.
He walked inside the company office to punch out for the day.
His boss, Carl Florence, observed him punching out and stepped out of his office.
"Ben, can I see you for a minute?" Carl Florence said.
"Sure thing," he replied.
When he got inside the office, Carl Florence told him what was on his mind.
"You know, Ben, I got a complaint today about you," he revealed.
"A complaint?"
"A complaint," he nodded. "Some woman where you were the other day was very irate. She said that you talked nastily to her. Is that true?"
"Sort of," he acknowledged.
"What do you mean, sort of?"
"I mean that I did my best to talk nicely to her, but after she started treating me like I was dirt I got mad. Even when I didn't say anything really nasty to her."
"You know, Ben, we don't go for that kind of thing around here," his supervisor told him bluntly.
"I don't usually do that kind of thing," Ben looked at Carl Florence and told him earnestly. "It was just that this broad pushed me beyond my patience. She was a real bitch. There was just no way that I could calm her down."
"I've dealt with a lot of difficult people in my line of work," Carl scratched his head and ruminated. "But there's one thing I learned early in the game. I learned that, where business was concerned, and where the company was at stake, they were right and you were wrong. I want you to remember that in the future, Ben."
"I'm sorry that this happened. It was just that this gal drove me to my wit's end."
"You should try and turn the other cheek the next time something like that happens."
"I'll try," he told Carl.
"See that you do, Ben," Carl said. "I know how some of these dames can be, but these are the kind of things you just have to bear up under."
Ben then got up and left the office. As he walked into the parking lot to get in his car, he became furious.
"That bitch, that lousy bitch did turn me in," he fumed.
He got in his car and drove home. He was unable to stop thinking about this terrible woman who had been so nasty to him. If anybody had had a justifiable complaint, he thought, it was he.
He drove to his apartment and relaxed in his favorite living room chair with a can of cold beer. The beer went down smooth and cold, and after he finished he decided to try his hand at some writing.
He soon discovered that he was not in any mood to write. He still could not get his mind off of this terrible woman. He could not believe that she would actually carry out that angry threat she had made to him that day. But she had. She had complained to his boss, just as she had said that she would do.
He then decided that he would go out for a drive. Ben got in his car and drove over toward the costume store where he had gone to purchase the outfit that had served him so well during the course of two rapes.
As he walked inside the store, he observed the same fat, jovial man standing behind the counter.
"Greetings," the man said with a wide smile. "Just thought I'd come in and make a purchase."
"By all means," the man said. "Just what do you have in mind?"
"I think I'd like a whip."
"You look familiar. That's right, you were in here not too long ago. You bought a costume for a Halloween party, isn't that right?"
"Yeah, that's right," Ben nodded.
"So how did it go?"
"How did what go?" Ben looked at him strangely.
"The Halloween party," the man burst into laughter.
"Oh, it went just fine."
"That's good, I'll find you a whip."
"I like to entertain with it sometimes after dinner," he related. "I'm just a country boy at heart. I was born and raised in the country, and I have had my own bull whip there."
"Yeah, sounds like you're from somewhere in the South."
"That's right," Ben nodded. "I'm from South Carolina."
The man returned with a whip in his hand. Ben paid him for it, then left the store. It was the first time that he had had a whip in his hand since he had left home. He was looking forward to putting the whip to use shortly.
It was not until better than two weeks after the woman had registered the complaint that Ben Myerson decided to pay her a return visit. Her name was Elsa Zimmerman and she was a prominent socialite. She came from an aristoc-tratic background and handled her regal bearing in a high-handed manner.
Several times he had driven past her house. When he was confident that it was time to make his move, he shoved his costume into the glove compartment and parked his truck a half a block away from her home.
As he got out of the truck and walked toward the house, his vivid memories of that day when she had raised such a fuss returned. In a way he was happy that she had given him a hard time. It gave him all the more reason to succeed in his endeavor. Whereas he had not known the other two women at all, he knew this woman all too well.
If ever a woman needed to be disciplined, he felt this woman did. As he walked up toward the house a boyish enthusiasm swept through him. He looked forward to this opportunity, even more so than he had looked forward to sex with the other two girls.
Ben stopped by the side of the house. He hid in the bushes and put on his disguise. Then he stepped out and walked toward the door.
He knocked on the door and waited for a reply.
When he heard footsteps moving closely toward him, he braced himself. He was ready for action as the big moment arrived.
The door opened and he was startled to see that a rotund red-headed woman in a maids uniform was staring at him fearfully. Her eyes widened with fear as she looked at his gun.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Is the lady of the house in?" he asked.
"Yes, yes," she said. "Do you want to see her?"
"Yes I do," he said.
"Won't you come in?" she held the door opened for him. The maid was doing her best to remain calm, but the manner in which her hands shook clearly told the story. She was petrified and was wondering if and when Ben would use his gun.
He entered the spacious living room after ordering the maid to walk ahead of him.
"Mrs. Zimmerman is taking a nap," the maid told him.
"Isn't that just imagine now. It's amazing how nice some of these people have it.
"I'll have to wake her up if you want to see her."
"Please do. Incidentally, just where is she sleeping?"
"In the bedroom."
"How convenient. That's exactly where I was planning to see her."
The maid led Ben up a flight of stairs toward the bedroom. She opened the bedroom door and prepared to lead him inside.
"Not so fast," Ben whispered as he observed his nemesis, Mrs. Zimmerman, asleep underneath the covers. "I want to take you someplace first, before I go in to see her. So you can close that door again."
He watched as the maid closed the door carefully, making certain that she did not wake Mrs. Zimmerman up. She did not want to make any mistakes around this terrible man.
As they walked down the hall with Ben holding the gun menacingly outward, he decided to ask the maid a question.
"What is this Mrs. Zimmerman's first name?" he asked.
"It's Elsa, sir," she replied fearfully. "Say, I like that," he chuckled. "You're catching on fast, honey. You're treating me like
I should be treated, as a gentleman."
They walked down the hall for the next few seconds. Then he spotted a white door and stopped in front of it.
"Hold on there," he told her. She quickly stopped in her tracks and turned around. "Just what's behind this door, I wonder."
He opened the door and discovered that a clothes closet lay beyond.
"I think that this would serve my purpose nicely," Ben exclaimed. "How'd you like to get inside there?"
"Whatever you say, sir," she told him timidly.
"You keep up that kind of cooperative spirit and we'll get along just fine."
He continued to hold the gun on her until she got inside the clothes closet. The maid's hands were still trembling and her eyes remained fixed on the gun he held tightly in his right hand.
He closed the door on her and locked it. He smiled to himself. He had met that challenge superbly. He had to get the maid out of the way, so that he would have no problems in dealing with Elsa Zimmerman.
He breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that the maid had been well taken care of. He walked back slowly toward the bedroom. He opened it and observed Elsa Zimmerman peacefully asleep.
Ben decided to play out every bit of drama inherent in the episode for all it was worth. He decided that, in order to carry out his plans for revenge, that his first step should be to take his victim completely by surprise.
He walked slowly toward the bed. The closer he drew to it the better look he got at Elsa Zimmerman. Things had gone so badly between them on that first occasion that he had not even been able to concentrate to any marked degree on her looks. But now he was getting a splendid opportunity to view her face.
He was greatly impressed by what he saw. Her hair was a dazzling light brown. Her eyes were also brown. He liked her long flowing lashes. Her nose had long, perfect lines which reminded him of an ancient empress. Her lips were thick and red, and immediately he desired to plunge his own lips against them.
He was greatly impressed by her face. He wondered how impressed he would be when he got a look at her body. His curiosity significantly rose with every passing second. He just had to see this glamorous woman totally nude. Since the sheets were draped over her entire body, he wondered if perhaps she might not be totally naked as of then.
He stood before her with his gun in his hand. He thought that the moment was ripe. He reached forward with his left hand, the hand which was not holding the gun, and shook her arm which hung underneath the sheets.
"Wake up, my dreaming little princess," he said with a heavy trace of sarcasm.
Totally taken by surprise, she shook her head, then squinted her eyes. She was having a great deal of difficulty determining what was going on. A thought flashed in her mind that it was all a dream.
But then he touched her again. She began to wonder if any dream could seem that real. No, she thought, it had to be more. Somebody was in her room.
Elsa Zimmerman quickly opened her eyes. She blinked them open good and hard, then blinked some more as she observed Ben standing before her.
She immediately let out a shriek of fear. And as she did her entire body straightened up. She threw off the covers and he got the look that he had been desiring. She wasn't nude, but was not that far removed from it. She wore nothing but her panties and bra. Her body was of breathtaking proportions. Her breasts were huge and firm. Immediately his fingers and tongue became itchy for contact with them. Her stomach was solid and flat, while her legs were long and slim. They tapered off superbly at the ankles.
"I wouldn't make any more noise if I were you," Ben solemnly warned. He made it a point to deliberately disguise his voice as well as the rest of him. After all, he reasoned, since she had once talked to him and engaged in a heated discussion with him, there was a strong chance that she could detect his voice.
"What do you want with me? Are you here to rob me? If you are, then help yourself and take anything that you want."
"No, I want you, baby, and that's why I'm here. I'm here to get myself some kicks, and if you don't cooperate with me, then you'll wind up immediately in the morgue. You dig?"
"I'll do anything you want," she said in a voice barely above a whisper.
"That's good, very good," he nodded favorably. "So you can get a fresh start by stripping off those clothes of yours. It shouldn't take you long because you're half undressed now."
She took another look at him and practically froze up. Elsa Zimmerman realized that to buck him would be sheer futility. Even though he was wearing a mask and she could not get a look at his face, other than his eyes, there was still a searing intensity which shown through. She was easily able to determine that he was intent upon having things fully his own way.
He watched as she pulled off her bra. He could tell from the way that her fingers trembled that he had her every bit as scared as he previously had the maid. Already he was beginning to feel a surge of triumphant joy. This woman who had unjustly attacked him, then later reported him to his supervisor, was only beginning to pay the price that he was determined to mete out to her.
Once she removed her bra and he got his first glimpse of her beautiful ivory lovelies, he gasped with exhilaration.
"Elsa, honey, you sure do have a beautiful pair of tits," he exclaimed. "I'll be spending plenty of time exercising them."
She was timid about removing her panties. She looked at him pleadingly.
"Do I have to take off my panties too?" she asked him.
"You're damned right you do," he snapped back immediately. "I'm not taking one iota of shit off of you. You'll do exactly what I tell you. Do you understand me?"
"I understand you," she told him in a subdued voice.
He watched closely as she let the panties slip down her legs. As she tossed them to the floor and he got a look at her box, he felt that a new goal had been reached. Slowly but surely he was getting her precisely where he wanted her.
"Mighty nice," he swooned. "Yes, you look pretty nice. You've got a gorgeous body, baby. I'll bet that husband of yours fucks the life out of you."
He stopped beside the bed, the gun still in his hand. He let his fingers of his free hand manipulate slowly but surely over her furry nest. He was warming up quickly to the task of fucking by massaging her vagina.
Suddenly he removed his fingers from her box. Then decided that it was time to move on to a new area, one that he had been contemplating for quite some time. He had thought about this moment a great deal, and now that it had arrived he was determined to see to it that everything went his way.
"Okay, honey, I want you to turn over on your back," he told her. "I'm going to see to it that I bring you some kicks."
She turned her beautiful trim naked form over. He watched her as she manipulated it into position. Soon she way lying flat on her stomach and it was time for him to swing into action.
He let out a quick sigh of relief, then reached behind him with his left hand and pulled the whip out of his pocket. It was the same one he had purchased that evening at the amusement store. From that day he had plotted and planned the moment of his great revenge. Women like this, he thought, just had to be taught a lesson. He was not going to take any guff off of this snobbish woman. He laid his fake gun down on a chair nearby and transferred his whip to his right hand. She continued to lie stiffly on her stomach, having no idea as to what would be coming next.
It felt good to have the whip in his hand, and it felt even better seeing that lovely nude from lying before him. He liked the shape of those firm round buttocks cheeks. He looked forward to putting that whip to work on them.
He stepped forward and took her by surprise for the second time in a few minutes, by thrashing the whip against her left buttocks cheek. It gave him a thrill to hear the end of the whip land reflectively on her ass cheek. She let out a sob, but did her best to suppress it. After all, he had warned her about making noise, and she realized that she would more than-likely be in serious trouble if anything the area of a complaint were to be registered by her.
Having had success with his first crack of the whip, he moved his action to her right buttocks. Once more the whip landed with an effective crackling sound. As he observed the skin redden and begin to show signs of swelling, his penis became erect. He had had the makings of a hard-on from the time that he caught his first glimpse of her, but now his prick was standing proudly at full length. The idea of extracting revenge with a whip in his hand appealed greatly to Ben.
He unzipped his trousers and let his penis fall free. Several times he stroked it, happy that it was standing so tall and firm. He would teach her a magnificent lesson before he was through. With his skilled whipping hand he would impart a little humility in her.
After getting good and hard he went back to whipping with a new anxiety. His hand reached out and slashed her viciously, first on her left buttocks, then on her right. Quickly he would reverse his positions. And through it all she trembled and sobbed silently.
As he observed the blood beginning to flow on both buttocks cheeks, a feeling of pride surfaced within him. That standing desire that had abided inside him was now beginning to attain fruition. He had wanted to beat her and was doing precisely that. He enjoyed looking at the blotches of torn skin mixed with blood. She was getting the very thing that he felt she deserved.
The frantic whipping pace continued. And with each succeeding thrust he would wheel his whip that much faster. He did not permit himself to be deterred one bit from his goal. Revenge was his and it was becoming sweeter every minute. As he watched her body tremble helplessly beneath him from his vicious onslaught, he began enjoying what was happening all the more.
"Okay, honey, I'm through with the whip act, at least for now," he told her. "Now I've got something new in store for you. So you can turn around, baby."
She turned around and he observed the redness in her eyes. He had given her a beating and was preparing to do more in that same direction.
"Okay, Elsa, you can get down on your hands and knees," he told her emphatically. "Just get down here on the floor, that's where I want you. You're my slave, honey, and you'd better get used to that idea."
It gave him a feeling of great pride to observe her getting down from the bed and sliding down on her hands and knees. His firm desire was to totally humiliate this woman, while at the same time to receive all the sex that he could obtain. He would make this woman suck his prick in just the way that he wanted it. He wanted her in the most subservient position that he could get her in. If he forced her to remain on her knees then it meant that he was in the position of a king while she was in the position of a humble subject.
He dangled his big stick in front of her teasingly. He ran his fingers over it, enjoying the sensations that he imparted to himself. He also enjoyed observing the look of terror that continued to remain in her eyes. He felt that his tactics had already achieved a good deal. He saw none of the cockiness in her that had been there when he had met her on the previous occasion.
He looked down at her with mounting contempt. It was refreshing to see her on her knees. It was just the type of compromising position he had dreamed of getting her in.
He reached down and tugged at her hair.
"I've got you where I want you now, bitch," he said tightly.
He continued pulling at her hair for the next few seconds. She closed her eyes and grimaced as the punishment continued.
"Okay, honey, now you can suck on my big pecker," he told her.
Then he forced her head downward until her tongue was next to his cock.
"Okay, Elsa, now I want you to start sliding that tongue up and down my pole," he said.
The tongue began to slip slowly up and down his long cock. Her head bobbed up and down like a young girl dunking for apples. Just to make certain that she continued her efforts, he tugged at her hair. The tongue slipped and slid with accelerating skill as she sucked him.
As long as he kept the pressure growing he felt that he would get his way. With brisk intensity her tongue continued to work with effectiveness.
"Keep up the sucking," he told her threateningly. "I like the way your working that tongue. I want you to suck me. I love that action."
Elsa wanted to gag on his cock. The whole atmosphere sickened her. This strange masked man had been treating her worse than a dog. First he had whipped her, and now he was forcing her to fellate him. Her hair and scalp remained sore from the way in which he tore at her. He was still deriving great delight from obtaining revenge at her expense.
The brisk sucking pace continued as her tongue continued drilling him intensely. She was hopeful of baiting him in getting his rocks off so that the whole hairy experience would come to an end.
"Slow down a little," he said. "I want to enjoy what's going on. I don't want to shoot my juices right away."
She eased up slightly in her pace. Now she sucked at a slower, more thorough rate. Her tongue slid with an effective grace. It maneuvered slowly. She slid it over every inch of his huge, bulging flesh.
Every now and then he would ease up on his hair pulling. But he wanted to make her feel the pressure most of the time, so consequently, for the most part he tugged at her hair.
Gradually the torrid intensity within him began to accelerate all the more. He sensed that an orgasm was in the immediate offing. He began to feel that familiar itch surfaced in his cock and balls.
"Okay, bitch, now you can start sucking faster," he commanded briskly. "You can turn on the steam, because I'll be shooting pretty soon."
The tongue then began working more speedily. He pulled her hair fervently as the sucking burst forward at an eager clip. With the impetus supplied by the hair pulling, she became all the more eager to finish him off. He realized that, by sustaining pressure, he would get precisely what he wanted.
"Just a few more strokes and I'll be there," he told her.
Encouraged by the news, and hopeful that the pain would soon diminish or cease altogether, she drilled him spiritedly.
This time the itch was more pronounced than ever. He felt himself moving swiftly down the home stretch. The great climax was just a few strokes away. Her tongue swept passionately up and down over his huge stick.
"Oh, oh, oh, I'm there," he let out a final gasp.
She readied herself for the big load, which was forthcoming at that point. The stream of warm thick liquid shot quickly into her mouth. She made it a point to stay with the load. Elsa realized that if she did anything to anger him, it would only be worse. She knew from those occasions when she had sucked her husband off, that the one thing that would make him angrier than anything else, was to have a woman spit out his orgasm.
As difficult as it was, she swallowed his en-ire orgasm. She hoped that, following a passionate blow job, he would leave her alone. But she did not know just how worked up he was. His creative mind was already one step ahead of the situation. He was contemplating his next step.
No sooner did he remove his fingers from her hair than he was looking down at his cock. It made him happy to observe how hard it still remained. That one lightning explosion had done nothing to diminish his potency. He remained ready to do much more. As for his desire to humiliate Elsa, that had not gone away. The whipping and the crude blow job had only served to excite him all the more. It made him that much more desirous for other action.
"I've got just the thing in store for you," he grinned sarcastically. "Does your husband ever give it to you up the ass?"
"You mean sodomy?" she looked at him with fear in her eyes. The sensation of terror spread itself throughout her body. That was the one sexual liberty she had never wanted her husband to take. As a matter-of-fact, he did not even seek it.
"What do you think I mean?" he chuckled. "Have you ever had your old man ram his hot stick between your buns and up your hot ass?"
"No," she whispered.
"Then it's high time that somebody did. You've got a cute ass, and its just waiting for the right guy to break it in."
She looked at him momentarily. He could tell from the manner in which her eyes looked at his that she was deathly afraid of such sexual contact.
"Get down on your hands and knees," he commanded her. "I'm gonna give you a ride that will put you in orbit. You're gonna really feel it before I get through with you."
As she spread herself out on her hands and knees, he got another look at the welts and caked blood on her buttocks cheeks. He decided before plunging in with his cock to reopen some of those cuts. He walked over and picked up his trusty whip. A broad smile crossed his face as he walked toward her. He could hardly wait to put his whip into action once more.
He used his right arm to administer the savage pummeling. He reached forward and delivered a brisk, solid stroke to her right buttock. He liked that familiar crackling sound as the whip made contact with flesh. Once more she started to bleed there. He reared back a second time and delivered a stinging thrust to her left buttock. As the cuts reopened her body trembled and she could not hold back the sobs.
"Eat your heart out, sister," he told her, sarcastically. "I'm making a woman out of you. That's something that your old man never got around to doing."
He kept up the blazing whip action for the next few minutes. It was necessary for him to switch at one point from his right to his left hand to administer the pounding. He kept up the savage pace, continuing until his arms became tired. In the meantime he opened up a number of new cuts, as well as making the older ones develop into even nastier gashes than before.
He finally put he whip down, then moved forward toward her with cock extended.
"Now that ass of your is going to get the workout I promised to give it," he told her.
He dropped down to his knees and prepared his first penetration. He thrust his body forward and delivered a knife-like stab into her rectum. She let out a cry of shock. The moment that she emitted the cry she became fearful that he would hurt her some more.
"Shut up, if you know what's good for you," he told her. With that he pulled at her hair several times.
Then he went back to work with his blinding, savage attack on her anus. He worked his prick in and out of her with the same kind of sadistic effectiveness he had brought to bear with the whip. The harder and faster he pushed as he drilled inside her rectum, the more he hurt her.
Initially he had wanted to move at a slower clip, but now his emotions were dictating that he take another turn. His heart pounded at a feverish clip as his prick continued pounding her ass.
The drilling pace continued at a savage clip. Several times Elsa was forced to bite her lip to prevent herself from crying out. He was delivering those pulsating stabs as high into her as his prick would go. Occasionally he would reach out and tug at her hair, but not in the way that he had pulled it before. He was contenting himself primarily with his forceful cock stabs.
"Ah but your tight there," he told her. "Now I know you've never had it there. I'm happy that I'm the guy with the chance to break you in. Yes, baby, you're learning a little something about the facts of life from me. Ah, that feels so good, you don't know what this does for my hard old prick."
Soon he realized that he was on the verge of orgasm. He stepped up his pace, thrusting his dick into her ass savagely as he knew how. With keen determination he launched forward, determined to spill another load of hot white juice inside her.
"This is it," he warned her. "The big moment is here. I'm gonna cream right up your ass."
He let out a final grunt. At that point the sea of hot white juice shot enthusiastically into her anus. She felt relieved to know that it had been expended. Perhaps he would finally let her alone.
But then, she realized, he always had the gun. She did not know what he was planning, after he had finished raping her, to kill her. She had heard about many such incidents in her life, particularly in New York. She knew that many such sadistical rapists, after they had finished getting their kicks, preferred doing away with their victims altogether. She could only hope that this tragic man who had subjected her to such pain and humiliation would be different.
He eased his penis out of her anus. At that point she felt more relieved than at any time since he had entered the house. He felt that he had obtained his objective. He had brought her down literally and figuratively to her knees. Then he had administered a savage whipping and an unmerciful pounding.
All of a sudden he noticed that the hate and revenge desire he had felt when he entered the house were gone.
Now his only desire was to escape from the house without any problems.
"Okay, Elsa, I want you to just keep lying there," he told her. "You get any bright ideas about getting up and moving around in the next few seconds and you're dead. I want you to just lie there for fifteen minutes. If you decide to get up before then your gamble will prove to be a deadly one. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, I understand you," she said in a low, cracked voice.
"That's a good girl," he chuckled as he backed up, heading toward the door. "I figured you were a smart girl all along. You know that if you make the wrong move you'll get your head blown off. Just make sure that you keep V thinking that way, and everything will be okay."
He then made his way stealthily out of the house. A feeling of triumph swept through him.
He had done the very thing he had wanted to accomplish. Ben Myerson had taken the cockiness out of this woman.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ben once more reacted in the aftermath of a sexual conquest by absorbing himself in intensive writing.
He indelibly imprinted Elsa Zimmerman on paper. He created her as a difficult person, then also devised a character like himself who punished her and forced her to abide by his every wish.
The attack on Elsa laid its way into the newspapers. It was also reported on television. The reporters were beginning to refer to him as the masked rapist. It made him laugh to think that he was receiving that much attention. Warnings were sent out regarding his patterns of operation, and housewives were advised to be very careful.
As for Ben, he continued working the Great Neck area. He was hopeful that his opportunities would continue. With every successful attempt and attack his confidence developed that much more. He was no longer the scared kid he had been. A feeling of power came over him. He began to feel that it was possible for him to triumph over any odds.
One early morning when he was working a fashionable residential section of Great Neck, he began to feel those anxious pangs that generally resulted in sex. As time elapsed he found himself falling more into the area of fervent desire.
As he walked over toward the side of a house for purposes of looking at a meter, he heard the sound of loud music flowing from inside the house. He went about his business, looking at the meter. But through it all he still was letting his mind wander in the area of sex. After experiencing no fewer than three enormous successes, he naturally wanted to continue enjoying himself in the sexual realm. He felt that he no longer had to be relegated to a sideline position in the game of life.
As he went about finishing up his meter reading work, he heard a voice calling to him from the window. It had to speak loudly in order to be heard above the loud music.
"Hello out there," the voice said. "And just what are you doing?"
He looked up somewhat startedly and observed a sparkling redhead looking at him with a mischievous smile. Immediately his already sensitive cock noticeably hardened.
"I'm from the gas company," he explained. All the while his eyes tuned in on her with great desire. She wore nothing but a wine-colored robe. She was barefooted and held a cocktail glass in her hand, from which she periodically sipped. "I was sent out here to read your meter, ma'am."
"Well, well, I guess the work day must go on," she shook her head and laughed. Then she took a lengthy sip from her glass. "Just how much work do you have on tap today? That is, if you don't mind me asking."
"No, I really don't mind," he straightened up and scratched his head. He was a little bewildered over this woman, who, at an early hour of the morning, was sipping a cocktail. She already appeared to be slightly drunk, or at least on the high side. "I make my rounds, but I'm pretty much on my own. That's one of the reasons why I like this job. It gives me lots of time to myself."
"How about that," she threw her head back and laughed. "A man of independence. You sound like my ex-husband. That is, before he dropped dead of a heart attack at forty-nine after working himself to death."
"I'm sorry to hear about that." "About what?" she looked at him with surprise.
"I mean, about your husband. I'm sorry that he had to die at such an early age."
"Think nothing of it, dearie," she shrugged nonchalantly. "We've all got to go sometime. Isn't that right?"
"Yes, it is," he replied, surprised that she would respond in such a crude manner,.
"Don't get me wrong," she explained. "I liked my husband, even if he was a lot older than I am. I guess you could say I even loved him, in kind of an offbeat way. But I told him many times that he'd better lay off when it came to working so hard. He was one of those bull-headed guys, who had his own business. He waited a long time to succeed, and when he finally did he just wouldn't stop working. He did okay by me. Everything I've got here I owe to him. I was just a scared little girl one year out of high school when I met him. But let's not talk anymore about him. I'd rather find out more about you."
"There really isn't one hell of a lot to find out," he told her bluntly.
"Oh, I'm sure you're being too modest," she said. "Listen, rather than communicate with a window separating us, why don't you come in the house. I'd like to fix you a drink."
"I always feel kind of funny drinking on the company's time. But I guess I could come in for a few minutes and talk."
"Don't be so uptight about your company and all," she warned him. "Live a little, honey."
He went around the back way and she let him in the door. As he got closer to her he could see how beautiful she was. She had a radiant complexion, exuding an apple-cheeked glow. Her eyes were an intense liquid blue, and her figure was impressive by any conceivable yardstick.
She directed him into the living room area. She asked him to sit down in the cozy bar in one section of the room. He sat down on a stool and she sat next to him. They talked momentarily before she fixed him his drink.
She introduced herself as Judy Sorenson. He hesitated momentarily before divulging a name to her. When he finally did it was an alias. Something held him back from revealing too much. Considering the manner in which he had become involved with so many women recently, he thought it best to play things on the safe side and use a false name.
"I think I'll fix myself another martini," she said after finishing her drink with one huge swallow. "This time around I'll make it two martinis. Are you with me?"
"You can be very persuasive. I guess you've talked me into it."
"You know, I used to help my husband out in the office. I made quite a few sales on the telephone."
"I'll just bet you did," Ben grinned. "I'll bet most of them were made to men."
"How'd you guess?" she smiled. She walked toward the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with a fresh glass. Then she stepped behind the bar.
"It's quite easy to guess in the case of somebody like you," Ben explained following the brief interruption. "You have a very persuasive manner, along with plenty of charm. I'll bet you had men melting for years."
"How sweet of you to say," she chuckled. He watched her as she mixed him a martini from behind the bar. She shoved the glass forward and served him. Then she promptly served herself as well.
Even though he remained shy around her, he realized that much of the fear relating to the opposite sex that he had held for some time was melting. His three experiences had been quite a tonic. They had definitely taken him out of the realm of the scared young country boy in the big city. He was developing and fast.
There was yet another reason why he was finding it easy to communicate with Judy Sorenson. His own aroused penis was dictating his mode of activity. The more excited he became the easier it was for him to communicate. Soon he found words falling off of the end of his tongue. And quite often those words just happened to be the right ones. It made him feel good to realize that he was charming her with much of his conversation.
The conversation continued and he finished his drink quickly. He surprised even himself by drinking quite that fast. Then he surprised himself even more when she finished her own drink, then calmly suggested that they have another round.
"Fine, I accept," he quickly blurted out.
It was not until she had finished mixing the drinks and had set his before him that he realized he was being derelict in his responsibilities. He was not supposed to drink at all on company time, and now he was not only having his second drink, but taking time out for what he had planned as a busy morning. Then again, he thought, he had taken plenty of time out on those occasions when he had gone to visit the women. He was on his own, and it made all the difference.
As they drank and chatted cozily, he began to wonder just what his beautiful hostess really had in mind for him. He was hoping that, the more she drank, the greater the tendency would become for her to shed her inhibitions.
He began thinking that perhaps he would encounter success on this occasion, whereas previously he had been able to achieve it only through cruelty and trickery. The more he drank the calmer he became and the harder his penis became. He was beginning to fervently desire activity. The same kind of impatience bolted through him that had been present on the occasions when he had burst into the homes of the three women. But there was one big difference on this occasion. He had been invited inside and was engaging in conversation with the woman of the house.
He realized also that there was one basic difference separating this woman from the other three he had encountered. Judy Sorenson was not married, whereas the other women had been. Perhaps the fact that she was a widow caused her to feel a certain degree of loneliness. Perhaps it would mean that she would want sex from him. He was hoping that that was what would ultimately happen. Every time he looked at her she loomed more appetizing. She had the form and face that made her palatable.
His questions were answered, at least to some degree, once he finished his second drink. He finished a few seconds ahead of Judy, who quickly poured the remainder of her drink down her throat. Then she looked over at him and licked her lips. Her lips were thick, moist and sexy. As he took a long look at her he became more intensely aroused than ever before.
"How about us stepping into another room?" she whispered. To add to her aura of suggestiveness, she let the fingers of her right hand slide down toward his knee. She stroked up and down his knee. And as she did she quickly observed the firm outline of his hard, throbbing penis clearly observable beneath his trousers.
"Whatever you say," he told her softly. His heart thumped at a rapid pace. He" was ready for anything, particularly an exciting bout of sex.
He watched her closely as she got up from the stool. Judy flashed him a big smile.
"Just come with me, baby," she winked.
He nodded, getting up from the stool. He enjoyed having her serve in the role of seductress. He felt that it was a role for which she was magnificently suited.
He walked behind her toward the hallway. They walked down the hallway several steps. Then she stopped abruptly and opened a door. A triumphant smile crossed her face as she stood in the hallway and motioned him inside the room.
"This is the best room in the house," she laughed. "As a matter-of-fact, it's the best room in any house."
He entered the bedroom and nodded. Then he turned around and said:
"I'll drink to that."
He laughed again. He could see that she was a bit on the tipsy side from the alcohol she had consumed, but not to the point of allowing it to interfere with what she wanted to do. He recalled that several times back home, after he had succeeded in getting women into compromising positions, they would be too drunk to adequately perform. He was quite certain that in this case, however, that situation would not prevail. Her eyes were alive with an electrical sparkle.
"Sit down on the bed, baby," she said softly. "I want to show you something."
As he sat down on the bed he noticed his heart fluttering at a rapid pace. The longer he remained around her the more enticing the prospect of sex became. It had been enchanting the way that events had unfolded. Right from the beginning things had seemed to go his way. It made him chuckle to himself to consider the irony as contrasted with what had happened in the case of beautiful Elsa. There things had begun when she engaged in an argument with him, eventually registering a complaint to his supervisor. But on this occasion everything was transpiring at a joyous pace. After some alcohol to ease the inhibitions, he was getting better acquainted with her. Now, as he sat on the bed, he anxiously awaited the next development.
The development happened with frantic swiftness. As he sat there he watched her untie the sash which held together her wine-colored robe. With the casual grace of a burlesque dancer she flung the robe off of her body and let it fall to the floor.
He let out an excited gasp upon first look at that gorgeous nude form. His eyes became immediately fascinated by her firm, well-rounded breasts. They thrust out at him, imparting a fervent hunger within his entire body.
Then there were her long, slim legs. They would have made any dancer proud, he thought as he looked at their slim, flowing lines.
Also, of course, there was her love button. It stood out beneath a patch of red hair. Seeing her standing before him looking so nude and alive filled him with a great sense of urgency. Once more he was back to the position he had occupied with the other three women. But the basic difference still remained in that this woman was conscientiously egging him on, whereas the others had been taken completely by surprise and had wanted, in reality, no contact with him at all.
As he sat there watching her, his prick becoming more intensely excited with each passing second, she decided to provide him with some entertainment.
He watched as she let her body sway from side to side. Her buttocks moved at a fast, impressive clip, while her firm breasts flipped from side to side as well.
"How do you like this?" she said.
"I like it just fine."
"That's good," she nodded.
Back and forth that beautiful body continued to sway. He observed the smooth firmness of her skin, and became all the more eager to participate in sexual contact with her. Pretty soon his own body began to sway from side to side as he sat on the bed. She looked at him and grinned happily, satisfied that her efforts were bearing fruit.
"You look like you've got ants in your pants," she burst into buoyant laughter.
"You really do something for me," he admitted. "If you want to take a look inside my pants, be my guest. I'm hard as hell down there."
"Yes, I can see that you are." She looked over and observed the huge erection, which was clearly observable. Judy liked pushing men to the very depth of their passion.
The longer she kept up her fluid movements, the more breathtaking he found her dance to be. She began to perspire, and the sight of the perspiration running down that beautiful shimmering body made him all the more anxious for activity.
She finally came to an immediate halt. As she stopped she looked over at him and smiled contentedly. She had succeeded in her objective of exciting him to the very utmost of his passions.
"Why don't you at least unzip that cock and get comfortable," she suggested.
"That sounds like a damned good idea," he nodded resoundingly.
He unzipped his trousers and pulled out his enormous penis. He was proud of it when it was that large, and eager to show it to her. He stroked it several times, looking over at her to see if she was observing what was going on. One look made it abundantly clear to him that she was.
"Just settle back, baby," she told him in a soft voice. "I'll be right over there to see that everything goes just right. I'm gonna give you a chance to give me a real blast."
He watched as she walked over toward the bed. The closer that her beautiful nude body came to him, the more excited he became. His heart began fluttering like that of a young boy. His body trembled slightly with a sense of exhilaration. He was ready for anything that she had to offer.
Judy slid over on the bed. She took a position right next to where he was sitting. She reached down between his legs and grabbed his cock. She fondled it in both hands. Up and down her fingers moved over it. She wanted to smother it, to touch the huge mass of molten flesh.
"My, but your hard," she winked. "Where did you ever get that big prick?"
"Just lucky, I guess."
They shared a laugh over his comment. Then she withdrew her fingers from his prick and stretched her body out in the middle of the bed. She was lean yet voluptuous, possessing just the kind of body that he liked. And it was all happening without him having to resort to any form of intimidation.
"I wish that you would give me a nice tongue bath," she said. She looked over at him and smiled fondly.
"Just where do you want me to tongue you?"
"I want a nice liberal tongue job," she told him emphatically. "I want you to suck me all over. I want to feel good all over. I want this body of mine to just tingle. I took a shower not long before we started talking, so you're going to find everything nice and clean. But as nice as that warm water is when it hits my skin, it just can't get the job done like having you suck me thoroughly."
Ben was quick to respond to the challenge. He eased his body over toward her. He let his fingers move swiftly up and down the small of her back. What he really wanted was a clear shot at those firm, beautiful tits. He wanted to give his tongue the opportunity to luxuriate in sucking delight.
"Turn over, honey," he told her. "I want to have a chance to lick those tits."
"I'd be more than happy to cooperate," she swiftly replied.
Her body quickly flipped over and he prepared himself for the onslaught which lay ahead. His tongue moved downward extending itself as it prepared to slide in magnificent splendor over her breasts. He flipped his tongue back and forth over her left breast. As he did her body flipped forward to meet his extended efforts. As his tongue flew vigorously the saliva mounted in the region of her breast.
Then he switched his sucking efforts to her other breast. With the same degree of skill and precision, he let his tongue flip back and forth, then up and down. As his tongue felt the spirited glow of enthusiasm from the spirited tongue efforts, he became carried away under the sea of passion in which he existed.
She was getting the very thing she desired, a voluminous tongue spray.
The tongue moved with electric precision over her silky, milk white breasts. The longer he sucked and the faster his tempo became, the more worked up both of them became. Her body began to wiggle from the spirited movements he put forth with his tongue, which moved with blinding skill.
The longer his movements persisted the more accustomed he became to doling out pleasure to her. He was giving her the kind of tongue bath which she had dreamed about. The longer his tongue slid over her breasts the warmer the feelings became that circulated through her body.
After getting in more than his share of decisive licks, he decided to allow his tongue freedom of movement under her arms. He grabbed her left arm with his hands and allowed his tongue to slip inside her armpit. Once more he went to work, vigorously putting forth his best tongue efforts. He drove himself to energetic heights of passion as his tongue flicked over every crevice of her armpit. The enthusiasm accelerated as he slipped his tongue around spiritedly inside her armpit.
He liked the way that she reacted to his efforts. She swooned inside several times as the stimulating movements continued.
"Oh, honey, you're really good at it," she told him. "You're really wrapping that tongue around me. Keep it up, baby, I love it, love it, love it."
He switched his efforts quickly to her right armpit. Once more he put forth the same type of illuminating effort. Her body began spinning and flipping from side to side as his tongue efforts continued. He was seeing to it that his tongue, which had left a steady trail of saliva over her breasts, was given sufficient opportunity to do the same thing to her armpits. Once his tongue finished supplying her armpits with needed sensations, he decided to move onward to another step in the action.
But before he could make his next move she forwarded a suggestion.
"How about sucking my toes," she suggested.
"You're kidding," he looked at her strangely.
"No I'm not. Haven't you ever done that before?"
"No, I haven't," he admitted. "Then now's the time to start." He leaned forward and grabbed her left foot. He slipped her big toe into his mouth and began sucking on it. As he made initial contact with it, her entire body began to vibrate noticeably. Her body and its tantalizing movements gave him additional impetus for his own activities.
He began to greatly enjoy the sensations to be derived by sucking her big toe. He then moved on to her other toes, completing the action.
Then he moved his efforts over to her other foot, completing the process. Her body began to dance with a girlish exuberance from the efforts he put forward with his tongue. She truly loved every bit of what was going on, and the better rounded he became in the activities to which he was exposing himself the better he got, at them. His tongue continued slipping and sliding until she felt that it was time for them to move on to something else.
"Baby doll," she said abruptly, "I want you to give that ass of mine some attention. It's a real sweet ass and you'll just love sucking it."
"That I have done a few times," he nodded, smiling.
She turned her body over quickly and lay on her stomach. He spread her legs suggestively, giving him a perfect view of her anus. He liked those cute buttocks and immediately began running his fingers over them.
"This'll be music to my tongue," he quipped.
"Then let's start making the music."
"I'm with you, baby."
"I'm hot to trot," she gasped.
With every increasing twist of her body, it became all the more apparent to him just how excited she was. She had wanted a tongue bath and was receiving one. She had wanted the attentions of a man and had come to the right place, he thought. Or, better yet, he had managed to stumble on the right place by just happening to be in the neighborhood when she felt the urge.
Ben decided that, prior to initiating his sucking movements in her ass-hole, that he would derive enjoyment from licking her ass cheeks. He began with her left cheek, sliding his tongue up and down, supplying her with whirlpools of excitement. Once more her already supercharged body reacted by flipping wildly. She was highly receptive to his every movement.
After he had left a trail of saliva on her cheek, he began gnawing on it with his teeth. Then he went to work with his tongue on her right buttock, letting it flip with unbridled enthusiasm. He sucked it eagerly, then put his teeth to work gnawing on it.
By the time he finished with the buttocks licking and nibbling, he let his tongue go to work poking high inside her anus. His first few steps were slow casual as he felt his way around the erogenous area.
His tongue quickly picked up the enthusiasm which her body felt. She began purring with the contentedness of a cat as he let his tongue circulate with rippling excitement high inside her anus. He developed an energetic pace in his movements, letting tongue unleash itself with just the right kind of impact. Pretty soon her ass was shaking profusely from the efforts which his tongue were bringing to bear.
Pretty soon his tongue had reached such an enlightened level that she was able to withstand no more. Her entire body was in the throes of pre-orgasmic excitement. She could see that it was incumbent upon her to receive speedy release. The spectacular job he had done in providing pleasure with his tongue had brought her to this point.
"Go after my hot cunt, honey," she gasped. "I just can't take any more. I've got to have release. Suck me, suck me, I need it, I really need it, do it, suck me, please suck me."
Her compassionate plea brought immediate results. His tongue spun with spectacular grace as he unleashed it in her honey pit. Beneath the tufts of hair there was sensation to be had, and he picked up the scent of her musky femaleness, which served to spur him on all the more.
He would normally have spent a little time getting accustomed to her snatch before attacking it with his tongue. He, under normal circumstances, would have let his fingers toy with her box before unleashing his tongue. But since she had stressed the urgency of immediate action, he decided to comply.
His tongue went to work with a sense of dedication. Now he was at the culmination point of his sucking efforts. Everything had served as a prelude to this point, that juncture at which it was time for him to receive her bountiful juices.
Suck by suck he continued his brilliant pace, letting his tongue slip and slide with relentless enthusiasm. Her legs kicked wildly back and forth as the sucking continued. The necessity she felt to derive orgasmic benefits was complimented by his own burning urge to receive her juices.
As he worked her that much closer to the big moment of climax, he decided that he should provide himself with another means of excitement. He ran his right index finger forward and let it slide high up into her ass-hole.
"Oh, I like that," she squealed with delight.
Knowing that his action made her happy, he pushed forward with all the enthusiasm he could summon. He let the tongue spin wildly over her box and simultaneously let his finger slip high into her anus.
"I'm just about there," she warned.
The warning caused him to speed up his efforts. Seconds later the orgasm occurred. He braced himself and received the juice which bolted from between her legs. As it happened her entire body trembled. The satisfaction she had wanted to obtain had become a reality.
She laid back and relaxed after he sucked her off. As she lay there, he looked down at his cock, which was more eager than ever for activity. Providing her with all that sensation had stilled a necessity within him for quick release.
"How about giving me some action?" he asked.
"I said I wanted a tongue bath," she reminded him. "I didn't say anything about any action beyond that."
"But what about my hard-on?"
"What about it?" she shrugged.
"Just this. I gave you all kinds of sensations. Now the least you could do would be to help me get my prick off."
"That wasn't in the deal."
"Look, if you want to be technical, there wasn't any deal," he barked. "I gave you what you wanted, so you can do the same for me, dammit."
"Don't get so uptight. Nobody forced you to come in here and have sex with me."
"I know, but I did come in here and gave you all kinds of action."
"So what do you think that entitles you to?".
"At least a little consideration. That is, enough action to where I can get my cock off."
"Okay, you big crybaby, I'll see what I can do." She gave him a disgusted look. He was beginning to see just how selfish she was. She had wanted some tongue activity, and now that she had it she could not really care about anything else.
With great reluctance, but hopeful of placating him and ending his complaining, she reached over and let her fingers roll up and down the base of his long prong. She quickly picked up the tempo as he lay back and enjoyed what was happening. He was hopeful that the hand job was only a preliminary that would lead to much more. Perhaps she wasn't so selfish after all, he thought, just maybe she was the type of person who needed coaxing. And now that proper amount of coaxing had been supplied, she probably would fair very well in sex with him.
He laid back and allowed her to manipulate those fingers over his cock and balls for the next few minutes. Then he began feeling eager for more.
"Why don't you go down on my cock," he finally suggested, eager to feel that tongue sliding up and down the base of his long, fleshy dong.
"Why don't you get lost?" she said sarcastically.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked with great surprise. He had thought that things were going just beautifully, and could not understand why such an abrupt change had taken place.
"You're lucky you're getting this much out of me. Why in hell should I suck your big prick? I hardly even know you."
"I was sure good enough to suck your cunt."
"You acted like you wanted to."
"I did want to. And you should want to suck my prick."
"Well I don't, and that's that."
The anger now seethed inside him as she continued stroking on his penis and scrotum. It was now clear that she would not go any further than she was. He was worth nothing more than a hand job by her standards.
"Get the damned thing off already," she said sarcastically. "I'm getting bored with it all."
Her comment made him even angrier, but he said nothing. He was afraid to do to her what he would have done under different circumstances. If only she had not known just who he was then he would take whatever liberties he decided to in such a situation. But even though she did not know his name, she did know that he was a meter reader. She could easily find out who he was in the event that he attacked her.
So he stuck it out as she continued running her fingers up and down the base of his prick. He finally exploded on the bed. He watched the sea of white juice hit the sheets.
"Okay, you got your kicks. So why don't you take off. I've got things I want to do," she told him. He zipped up and left the house. He was seething from the treatment he had received. After he had been willing to suck her in every conceivable way, she was unwilling to do any more than to give him a hand job.
CHAPTER EIGHT
He drove through the evening darkness toward Judy Sorenson's house.
Ever since that day two weeks before when she had shunned him after he had provided her with every form of oral satisfaction, Ben Myerson had been carrying a grudge. He was not about to let this terrible woman get away with anything on him. He remembered how skillfully he had handled Elsa when she had verbally abused him. But this woman had gone even further. She had insulted his sexual prowess by not wanting to partake of more action. He recalled how she only grudgingly had been willing to provide him with a hand job. If he had not made a point of complaining about her lack of enthusiasm, she would not have provided him with any kind of satisfaction at all.
Now he was just waiting to get his chance. He would discipline her in such a way that she would never look at sex in the same way. He would teach her the same kind of lesson that he had taught previously to Elsa.
As he turned down the street where she lived, he took a look in the direction of her house. He could see a light on in the living room. He hoped that she would be there by herself. He recalled how he had locked the maid in the closet when he had had sex with Elsa. He would take whatever steps were necessary to secure advantage. He only hoped that a man would not be on the scene, since the situation would become more difficult.
He pulled his car to a stop in front of her house. He took one last deep sigh, and put on his costume, then exited the car. He recognized that he would be taking a terrible risk by returning to her house. After all, she had gotten a very good look at him during the course of all of the action that transpired that wild and unpredictable morning.
For that reason he wore a long black top coat, even though it was not chilly enough to warrant such an action. He had also practiced a phony New York accent, which he hoped could be passed off successfully. Even thought Elsa had seen him and talked to him previously, he had not known her as Intimately and for as long as he had known Judy Sorenson on that particular day. That was why he realized it was necessary for him to play things cautiously. He kept instilling that one thought into his mind over and over as he moved toward the door. As he knocked on the door he heard the sound of a television set on in the living room. Seconds later the door was flung wide open and she came face to face with him.
A gruesome sight of a man in a topcoat, wearing a mask and a wig, coupled with the gun he held menacingly in his right hand, caused her to let out a fearful gasp. She wanted to scream but realized that, if she had, he might very well shoot her on the spot.
"Aren't you going to ask me inside?" he asked. He was enjoying the fact that he had scared her. He liked forcing her to endure fear. It was just the beginning of what he had in mind to pay her back for the sex she had not consented to give him the last time he had seen her.
Not saying a word, she opened the door and let him inside.
"What do you want?" she asked softly.
"I don't want any questions being asked. If there's any questioning to be done, I'll do it. As for you, the best thing you can do is to shut your fucking mouth and do precisely what I ask you to do. You read me, bitch?"
"Yes I do," she nodded, speaking in barely more than a whisper.
They stood in the living room. He loved watching her tremble. Finally he decided it was time to reopen the conversation, since she was anything but anxious to talk.
"I suggest we go in the bedroom," he said.
She grimaced upon his revelation. She wore a pair of tight-fitting purple slacks that caused his erect penis to thrust out to its full length.
She led him into the bedroom. Every once in a while she would look back at him with a fearful look on her face. He was enjoying putting her through an ordeal. He felt that it was fair payment for the ordeal to which she had subjected him. He would never be able to forget the manner in which she had deprived him of the type of satisfaction that he wanted.
"Okay, bitch, you can take off your clothes. I mean all of them."
His sharp, terse command was greeted with silence. He could not get over the marked change in her. On the other occasions that he had visited her she had been very talkative. But, then again, he hadn't thrust a gun in her face on that occasion. He also realized that the mask was no doubt intimidating her. She was more than-likely wondering what type of madman she was being confronted by, he thought.
He watched as she stripped her body clean. His memories returned to that morning when they had had sex as he looked at her beautiful form. It looked just as stunning as it had on that other occasion. It also produced the same response in him, that of causing his penis to swell with great anxiety.
Once she completely stripped herself he walked over and let his fingers run playfully over her furry mound. It did him a world of good to make intimate contact with her mound.
"Okay, you bitch, you can lie down on your stomach. I've got a nice surprise waiting for you," he bluntly informed her.
He reached into his pocket and took out his whip. His fingers became hungry for action as he looked at those appealing buttocks staring him in the face.
Now he was ready to go to work. The whip dangled proudly from his right hand. The fingers were now itching with even greater anxiety than before as he prepared to unleash his onslaught.
He reached back and delivered a stinging thrust to her left buttock. She cried out like a little girl. Following the initial cry there was a rapid series of sobs, accompanied by tears.
"I'd shut up if I were you," he said. "I don't like being interrupted, and noise comes under that heading. Not only that, but the neighbors can hear noise, and I don't want any intrusions of any kind. So if you know what's good for you, you'll shut up."
He went to work drilling her left buttock. He decided to confine his pressure to that globe for the next few seconds. He waited until her buttock was tattered and bleeding. Then he decided he would switch his activity to her right buttock.
Once more he unleashed a ferocious attack, leveling the whip at her ass. He would not be content until the right buttock looked every bit as tattered and sore as the left. He delivered the whip with devastating precision. The longer he kept it up the more anguished her sobs became. She wanted to cry out, scream for help, but felt that if she did she would be dead before the help arrived.
Her entire body trembled painfully by the time he finished his punishing assault on her buttocks. The whip assault had been only the prelude to the growing climax of the action.
Now he had his heart set on getting his rocks off. He had thought it out beforehand, the manner in which he would receive his greatest satisfaction. Now he was preparing to follow through with that game plan, which he knew would provide him with great stimulation. He looked down at her bloodied ass globes and smiled smugly. Already she had felt the ire of his attack. It served her right, he felt, to receive that type of treatment after what she had done to him. He could still see her acting so cocky, depriving him of sexual needs.
"Okay, now you can turn over and get on your back," he commanded sharply.
She turned over and he got a good look at her tearstained eyes. Mixed feelings went through him. One part of him was happy that she had suffered, while the other was resentful of the fact that she was acting like such a big baby. He associated crying with children, and it was a difficult pill for him to swallow to see these beautiful women break down and sob like little girls.
"Now I'm really going to give you a big surprise," he told her.
He unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock. He ran his fingers over the huge instrument. He recognized just how badly his penis needed imminent release. Those familiar burning files were circulating through his body as he got set for action.
He positioned his body on top of hers. His knees rested on both sides of her head. She got a perfect view of his huge dong as it stared down at her. He was ready to let himself go.
"Hang on, baby, because I'm going to drill you," he told her emphatically.
Then he shoved his body downward. He was taking dead aim on her mouth.
"Now open that mouth, bitch, and give my prick plenty of room," he said. "If you don't, then you'll only make it that much tougher on you. My prick needs the release and needs it right now."
She opened her mouth reluctantly, knowing that if she did not, he was perverse enough to follow through with his threat. She had the feeling that he would just as soon have her buck his wishes so that he would have an additional excuse for beating her up. She could detect the seething hatred that rushed through him from the time that he entered the house.
She opened her mouth and he let his prick find its way inside. He eased the prick into her mouth for the first few casual strokes. He was deliberately taking his time in finding the range. But as he continued his activity he began to push faster and harder.
She felt that she was about to choke as he pushed more and more of his huge elongated spear into her mouth. Pretty soon the huge fleshy cudgel was pushing all the way back to the base of her throat. His body rocked back and forth with spirited enthusiasm as he drilled the fleshy pecker into her.
She was totally subservient at that point. There was nothing that she could do to control her own destiny, aside from cooperating with him. In that way, perhaps he would not subject her to quite as much misery.
With diligent force he continued shoving the huge pecker into her. She was helpless to do anything other than accept it. He drilled her with everything he had, unleashing the hostilities that flowed inside him.
"Oh, I just love this action," he said. "It's just great shoving this big prick inside your mouth. Pretty soon, bitch, I'm gonna flood it with my hot sperm."
As he got closer to the big moment that he had been waiting for, he decided that he could derive some extra kicks by slapping her buttocks. He drove his open hands into them several times, unleashing great pain within her. They were still enormously sore from the whipping to which they had been subjected.
Ben, as he neared the very end of the activity, directed his activities toward her breasts. His fingers pinched and stabbed at the fleshy tits as his body continued to work its way up and down, shoving forward effectively.
He finally left out one final loud sigh. At that point the flowing hot white juice bolted enthusiastically out of the end of his iron rod.
It made him feel great to know that he had expended his juices. Now revenge had been obtained and it was time for him to flee the scene of his conquest.
CHAPTER NINE
Ben Myerson followed closely behind in his truck as the fetching ivory-skinned blonde pulled into her driveway.
Ben had followed stunning Ramona Graham as she drove her husband to the subway station. He gritted his teeth angrily as he saw the manner in which Ramona looked at him as they exchanged a parting kiss.
Ben noticed the way that Ramona's husband got out of the car and walked to the station. It was as if he owned the entire world. That look made Ben all the more determined to prove to him that he did not He would prove to the man that there was a need another woman in Ramona's life, at least for a short time.
He had first set his sights on the lovely blonde one afternoon some two weeks earlier when he had read her meter. He had seen her walk out the front door and get into her car. She walked with an aristocratic bearing. She possessed a striking figure and beautiful face, certainly sufficient enough to interest him on the subject of sex.
Things had gone so well lately in his exploits with the opposite sex that he was beginning to feel invincible. He liked the attention that was being drawn to him in the local media. On local news shows he was being referred to as the masked rapist, and women were being told to be careful. It had given him a feeling of satisfaction to know that he had thrown the police off on the last occasion. They had made it a point to inform women in the area that the attacks were being made during the day. But in the case of Judy Sorenson the attack had been made at night.
He sat in his truck for a few minutes and contemplated his future course of action. He would give the beautiful housewife a chance to get inside the house and make herself comfortable before making his entrance.
Before he made his move he looked around several times, making certain that he checked the street out in detail before acting. He could see that nobody was in sight in either direction. That meant, he thought, that he was free to move. He reached into the glove compartment and put on his costume. Then he got out of the truck, took another quick look both ways on the street, and walked toward the door.
He only had to ring the doorbell once. She answered the door quickly. As in the case of the others, she was clearly stunned at seeing a masked man with a wig and a gun in his hand.
"I'd ask me in if I were you," he told her tersely.
She held open the door and let him enter. He took a look at her well-formed buttocks, which stood out prominently and beautifully, and already his cock was afire with passion.
"Okay, honey, you can show me into the bedroom," he said. "I want a little action, that's all."
They walked into the bedroom and she showed him inside. She stood against the wall and trembled.
"I'd relax if I were you, baby," he told her. "Things are just gonna get worse if you wind up getting all tense."
He had been planning to whip her, but she stood before him trembling so helplessly that he actually took a measure of pity on her. No longer did he possess the same type of hatred that he had possessed for sme of the other women he had raped. No, he was not about to just go away without getting what he sought, but perhaps, provided she continued to treat him decently, he would not subject her to the same type of brutality that he had some of the other women.
"Okay, baby," he said. "Get those clothes off. I want you to strip completely clean for me."
She did precisely what he told her. He could not help but have a certain admiration for this girl that he had not held for the others. She seemed to be willing to do things his way, without him having to bully her. Of course, he realized, the ultimate truth would not be known until he saw how she reacted under the pressure of sex.
Her body was slim and lovely. The breasts were not huge, but were very well formed. He walked over and ran his fingers soothingly over them. Even though she did not like what he was doing, she kept her displeasure to herself. She kept a frozen expression on her face that did not reveal to him the way that she felt about developing matters.
He remained intrigued, however, by those jutting buttocks of hers. They stood out so prominently and were so beautifully put together that he considered her the most natural prospect for sodomy of all the women that he had raped. Perhaps some of the others had been more beautiful, or had had more voluptous breasts, but this young woman possessed a magnificently structured ass. Immediately he sought to have his penis achieve intimate contact with it.
It was now becoming something of an automatic ritual to him as he unzipped his trousers and pulled out his prick. She took a long look at the huge organ. Once more she said nothing.
"You know, you're a pretty quiet girl," he grinned as he walked toward her.
"There's not much to say," she shrugged.
"That's a pretty good answer," he chuckled. "You're a pretty smart girl. You're trying hard not to antagonize me. You keep that up and we'll get along okay."
"I will."
He nodded, happy with the response. This was one girl who understood him. Even though whatever resentment had been in him previously had since vanished, he still fervently desired to thrust that huge prick into her anus.
"Just get on that bed and lie on your back," he patted her on the buttocks affectionately.
Once more she did as told. Unknown to Ben, she had read about the masked rapist. She was confident that this was the man. She had thought, at the moment that he had confronted her, even though she was stricken with terror, that the best thing to do was to go along with him. She surmised that perhaps one of the basic reasons why the previous victims had been subjected to such great pain was that they had resisted him. No matter how she might feel, she thought, the wise course of action was to cooperate with his every request. That was the plan she was attempting to carry out.
As she slipped her lovely body down on the bed, he picked up a pillow, which he inserted underneath her. Then he had a perfect view of her buttocks. Also, it would be easier for him to penetrate her at that angle. His cock cried out with need as he looked at those lovely ass cheeks.
He stroked his prick proudly several times, then got set to unleash his penis. He thrust his body forward and allowed his cock to make its first stabbing penetration inside her. On three occasions in the five years that Ramona Graham had been married to her husband, she had permitted him to have anal sex with her. Even though she did not like such activity, she had been willing to subordinate her wishes to those of her husband on those occasions.
Even though his darting stabs were hurting her, she was not about to demonstrate displeasure in any way. She felt that her best chances of escaping unharmed stemmed from playing along with him, rather than bucking the tide.
Ben clasped his fingers tightly around her buttocks cheeks as he continued sending his darting prick back and forth inside her ass-hole. He drilled with spirited effectiveness, sending his spear darting forward. He enjoyed the freedom and the rhythm with which he was sending his proud phallus inside her.
As his body rocked back and forth, her body cooperated by rocking and flowing with his movements. He felt himself move gradually toward the big climax.
"Your nice and tight," he complimented her. "Just the way I like a woman to be. You're a great fuck, baby."
As he drove toward the end of the act, he reached out and slapped her buttocks cheeks several times. His efforts stung, but she managed to suppress the urge to cry out. She knew that he was getting his kicks and that it would not be long before he exploded inside her.
"Get ready for the big eruption," he warned.
The eruption came moments later. She felt the flow of volcanic white juice shooting into her. She realized that he had achieved his objective, and wondered if he would be subjecting her to any more sex.
"I always liked sticking my peter into a hot ass like yours," he told her. As he removed his prick from her anus he patted her buttocks affectionately.
He got up from the bed and zipped up his trousers. After a moment of deliberation he decided that it would be best to leave.
"Okay, honey, you've been a good girl so far. Now I want you to just lie there on your stomach in that bed. Don't make a move for another ten minutes or I'll blow that pretty head off of your body," he told her. But he noticed that this time his heart was barely in it as he pushed the gun out at her.
She lay dutifully on the bed as he left the room. He took one last look at her before going on his way.
It was another success, he thought, but somehow it felt different.
CHAPTER TEN
Ben Myerson then went back to work. He had scored another triumph, this time receiving a joyous ass fuck for his efforts.
As he drove back to his work several blocks removed from where he had sodomized Ramona Graham, his creative impulses were once more unleashed. He began to think about how wonderful it would be to write that evening. He would utilize a new character in his story. It would be a quiet girl who went along with what her mate wanted. It would be a character sketch of the Ramona Graham who had provided him with all pleasure.
He was having difficulty, however, reconciling himself to the differences between the way he felt then and the way he had felt after his previous triumphs. This time sadism had not been a factor. If he had hurt her at all through his anal penetration, it was only because that was the way that things had worked out, and not because he had wanted it that way.
He thought about all the notoriety he had been receiving on television and in the newspapers. He was the masked rapist and he wondered just how much longer he could effectively carry out his act. He began thinking that perhaps he should switch methods of operation, adopt a new line of attack. If he changed costumes, or attacked women without wearing a costume at all, this would more than-likely throw off the police. It was reaching the point where the excitement generated by the chase and his desire to elude the police provided him with almost as much enjoyment as the sex acts themselves.
He liked to think of himself as the young Southern boy in the big city, fighting a one man battle for recognition against major obstacles. So far he had been very successful in his pursuits and was hopeful of continuing his string of successes.
He went through his paces for the remainder of the day with spirited enthusiasm. He could hardly wait to get back to his apartment and write. In the course of his writing he would probably come up with more creative inspiration about how to deal with problems in his own life.
The one thing that he continued focusing on was how to continue his successful string of rape adventures. With things going so well he did not want his adventures to come to an abrupt end.
In the middle of the afternoon he observed a woman struggling with a trash can, which she was moving toward the front of her house. He had just read the meter next door, and walked over toward her house for purposes of reading her meter next.
"Why don't you let me give you a hand with that?" he suggested.
"Why thank you," she smiled.
As he picked up the trash can and deposited it in front of the house, he got a good look at the woman. She was in her middle thirties, and very attractive. She had slim beautiful lines and a lovely face. He liked the color of her chestnut hair, which radiated in the sunshine. He felt his penis becoming increasingly hard, but did not want to make a move when he was not wearing a disguise, and when she knew that he worked for the gas company.
She thanked him and he went on his way. He made a note of where she lived and decided that, sometime in the near future, he would be back to visit her.
As he went on with his meter reading, he couldn't help but think about how lucky he was in his line of work. As long as he remained in that position he would be able to stalk the scene and make his moves with all kinds of lovely girls. The woman he had helped was just one of a series of women he had encountered during his daily travels.
As the work day moved to an end he felt a confident contentment that he had not experienced previously. It gave him the feeling that he could literally conquer the world.
Many of the most beautiful female suburban dwellers in all of New York were there for the taking. He had already accomplished-much and vowed to accomplish a great deal more as well.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ben heard a bulletin on his truck radio as he drove back to the yard.
The commentator, while in the process of delivering the local news, mentioned that there was yet another victim of the masked rapist.
He told all about Ramona Graham, and about how she had been attacked by a masked man.
He turned the radio off and laughed.
"She might have been quiet when I was there," he told himself aloud, "but she was talkative enough after I left."
It made him feel good to know that he had the entire town talking. And he was determined to have it talk even more. But this time he would think of something new. The more new wrinkles he threw into his operation, the easier it would be to keep the local authorities in a state of confusion.
He drove the truck into the yard and got out. He walked with a brisk gait into the office, where he would sign out for the day. He had a strong creative impulse to get back to his typewriter. He had a feeling that some beautiful new ideas would flow.
As he entered the office Carl Florence was standing near the doorway. His supervisor looked at him a bit strangely. Ben wondered if something could be wrong.
"Ben, I'd like to see you in my office," Carl Florence told him.
"Sure thing."
His supervisor watched as he moved toward the door. Carl Florence moved closely behind him. Ben waited for Carl Florence to catch up with him. He did not want to open his supervisor's door.
The supervisor opened the door, holding it open for Ben to enter. As Ben entered the room he observed two tall, broad shouldered men wearing hats standing by the desk.
"Does this look like your man?" Carl asked.
It certainly does," the taller of the two men nodded. "He definitely matches the descriptions we received from the victims. He looks an awful lot like the man our artist drew."
"Just what's going on here?" a surprised Ben Myerson said.
This is Lieutenant Kelly and Sergeant Flynn," Carl Florence explained as he pointed toward the two police detectives. "Today when I heard another girl had been attacked I started putting things together. I remembered that that girl who complained a few weeks ago was the same one who got raped a little while later. Then I started thinking some more and discovered that a lot of those victims were girls who lived in areas where you were working. I remembered how hot you were about the way this gal had talked to you. So, just on a hunch, I called the police."
"I think you'd better be coming with us," the shorter of the two men said. He walked over and slapped a handcuff on Ben Myerson's right hand.
"This is the silliest thing I've ever heard of," Ben Myerson balked. "I haven't done anything, and what's more I'm going to sue you after this is all over."
"Save that kind of talk for later," the taller man said. "We've got quite a bit of evidence against you. I know of four girls in this area who would love to have a chance to identify you. And that costume man called after the first girl had been whipped. He told us that he hadn't thought anything of it when he sold you a whip, and after one of the girls was beaten by a whip, he thought there might be a tie in. Well, he did a beautiful job of describing you. And he'll get a chance to put the finger on you in person."
Ben's head dropped and tears surfaced in his eyes.
"I haven't done anything," he bawled.
"You'll have a chance to prove that later on," one of the men said. "But your chances of proving it aren't very good."
Carl Florence watched as the two police officers led their handcuffed victim out of the office.
CHAPTER TWELVE
His head spun and a pattern of psychedelic lights whirred by. He felt the intense sweat of a man totally immersed in passion.
Julia Simpson's stunning blonde body stood before him. The bright lights overhead caused her body to shimmer radiantly. His cock throbbed with the usual urgency it felt whenever a truly beautiful woman, as Julia unquestionably was, was in his presence.
He reached outwards and felt the magnificent sensations of his fingers touching her smooth, velvety skin. And through it all his heart beat all the more frantically. He needed sex and needed it badly and this beautiful female was there to fulfill his needs.
His fingers continued to reach downward until they made brisk contact with her white-thatched mound. He had had her before and she looked even more beautiful to him the second time around than she had the first.
He luxuriated in the touch of that skin, so smooth and soft. She was so lovely to feel. While the fingers of his right hand made their way longingly around her beautiful snatch the fingers of his left worked their way around the smooth area of her buttocks.
The longer he kept up his activities the more excited he became. Ben felt like it had been a long, long time between screws, and he was determined to make up for many lonely nights with a stirring session in Julia's presence.
Somehow he managed to twist his body around. Things were happening so fast that Ben felt he was no longer the master of his destiny.
In the meantime she had apparently moved as well. Otherwise there was no other logical way to explain how her body had become positioned atop his head.
That tightly constructed, snowy white ass was fluttering over him. He liked its slow, methodical, highly tempestuous movements. Through it all the passions continued swelling inside him. His entire body trembled with vibrations of desire.
As the buttocks swayed back and forth teasingly above him, he positioned his tongue close to her anus.
"Suck my ass, suck my ass out," he could barely hear her whisper.
"I'm hungry for you," he whispered back. "Then prove it." "I will."
It was proving even more wonderful the second time around. That is, sex with voluptuous Julia. He did not even have a fake gun there to intimidate her. That did his ego a world of good, knowing that he could have her in his own way without resorting .to trickery.
His touch was instinctive. Without even thinking about his next move his tongue reached out and he let it flip inside her anus. That first passionate movement was enough to make her entire body shake.
"Oh, suck it, keep it up," he heard her actively encourage.
He let his fingers run over her smooth crevices of buttocks flesh as his tongue stepped up the pace inside her ass. With each stab he shoved his tongue into her that much deeper.
He kept up the speedy tongue stabs up her ass until she was reduced to a mass of combustible sexual energy. It was a tight ass, a wonderful ass, and his tongue enjoyed every stab, every upward flick.
"Now you can switch the action to my twat, baby," she commanded with anxiety. I need it, I really need it."
The tongue quickly shifted gears, moving its area of emphasis from her anus to her aroused pussy. It was dripping with anxiety, as was the rest of her, as her body trembled with glee. His tongue went to work hungrily, determined to meet her needs while he was busily fulfilling his own.
"I love that so much that I've got just the thing to pay you back for the beautiful action," he heard her say. "I'm gonna give you the cock-suck of your life."
Now he received a stimulating double sensation. While his own tongue continued going to work on that mound, he felt the rippling sensations of her tongue working its way up and down zealously over his big dick.
It was democratic sex, give and take, with each party trying diligently to please the other. Their bodies tossed and turned with great desire.
He looked forward to the big moment when he would explode. His tongue was grinding so quickly that he could not understand why his lover had not bolted already. As for Ben, he knew that he was only a few tongue stabs away from shooting his juice.
"Oh, this is it, oooohhhhhh," he let out a long gasp as the deluge of juice bolted from out of the end of his prick. Now he felt like a free man, one who was not trapped in the web of his own stored up passions.
Once more there was a pattern of psychedelic lights. Following the blur things came dramatically into focus. There was another beautiful body before him.
He was surprised to find the stunning brunette, Lucille Petricelli, tossing her body from side to side on the bed.
He was ramming his still aroused cock into her anus. It was as if he could never get enough sex, and there were more than enough beautiful women to go around.
Ben could still not quite understand the enormity of it all. The only thing he was aware of was that this stunning brunette was twirling her body while his prick continued grinding and stabbing inside her.
Now he was moving close to the big moment.
"Oh, keep on fucking me," she begged, "I want that hot prick shoving into me. Oh, oh, I want it."
"I'm gonna keep on giving it to you."
"Oh, great, keep stabbing."
Her words of encouragement only served to spur him on a little more as she shoved with everything in him.
Ben was all set to explode inside that glorious ass-hole. It was so tight and beautiful and she was so willing. He did not have to use anymore intimidation on her. No, that was no longer necessary, thank goodness.
Then everything became suddenly still. He felt somebody tug on his arm. He couldn't understand what was happening.
Soon Lucille disappeared from view...
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"Watch it, he's at it again," Ben could hear the voice of a man in the distance.
"Grab him, hang on to him," another man said.
His head spun once more. Again there was the familiar but still strange sight of psychedelic lights spinning before him. Ben shook his head several times. It was as if he were coming out of a dream.
Once the lights went away he looked up at two men dressed in white. One was attempting to hold his struggling body in place while the other busily and quickly strapped his body down in the bed in which he lay.
He was dressed in white pajamas, and clearly observable in his pajama bottoms was an orgasmic stain.
"Another wet dream," the man shook his head after finishing strapping him in. "Who were you fucking this time, Romeo? Or is it Thomas Wolfe?"
"Why did you call me that?" Ben's lips trembled as he looked around the strange room, which was devoid of windows. It was like a hospital setting, even though he had the feeling that it was something else.
"What's that? Romeo?"
"No," he shook his head.
"Oh, you mean Thomas Wolfe?" a wry grin surfaced on the man's face as he looked at Ben. "Yeah, why?"
"That's what you were calling yourself. Either you wanted to write, and kept mumbling about Thomas Wolfe, or you wanted to jack off. Sometimes you wanted to do both at the same time. You'd better take it easy, man."
"You're crazy. I've never done that."
"Yes you have," the other man quickly chimed in. "That's why we had to transfer you from the jail to here."
"And where's here?" Ben quickly inquired.
"The State Hospital. I'm afraid you need a good long rest. And you'll never get it getting all worked up like you've been doing since you've been here."
"You're crazy, both of you are crazy, let me out of here," he suddenly exploded. He tried to free himself, but was securely strapped in. Soon he began crying helplessly. "Let me out of here, I want out, knock off this shit. You're keeping me a prisoner and I won't stand for it."
"Should we give him another shot?" the man who had strapped him in asked his fellow attendant.
"We'd better," the other man vigorously nodded.
The needle jammed into his arm and suddenly everything became still. First there were the psychedelic lights, then he drifted off to sleep.
"You'd never know he could cause all this trouble," the man who had administered the shot commented. "I mean, looking as peaceful as he does now and all."
"No you wouldn't," the other attendant agreed. "I guess we might as well let him alone for awhile."
"Yeah. Maybe after he sleeps awhile he'll be ready to talk to Dr. Carlson."
"I hope so. God knows the guy needs help."
The two men then left the room. Meanwhile Ben Myerson continued to sleep.
