Her boss' eyes, which were like burning chunks of charcoal, surveyed her quivering, vulnerable beauty, from the narrow elastic band that encircled her waist.. . down across her panty-expanding buttocks . . . to the crescents of pale buttock that peeped out from beneath the lower elastic of her panties . . . then along her full, tapering thighs, which were bracketed by taut white garter straps, to the stretched tops of sheer, beige-toned stockings.
He spanked her again, harder.
And Teresa wondered as she squirmed across his knees if it was a good idea to settle for a spanking.
It seemed to be getting out of hand.. .
1
"Hi! Did you have a good run?"
She smiled up at him as he put his papers on her desk, and Joe Gresham thought he had never seen such a pretty girl in his life. That was quite a conclusion, because he had met-and made out with-a lot of women.
It wasn't that the new clerk in the office of Farris Trucking had perfect features. She didn't. Her nose was not completely straight, her cheekbones were quite high, and her chin was a bit too short. But her eyes made up for those deficiencies. Warmly brown, they were wide-set, large, and soulful. They sparkled beautifully when she smiled. Yet they retained a certain aloofness, as if to tell men: I don't fool around!
To Joe the message was not a turn-off but a challenge. He had never appreciated women who were easy.
The new clerk, Teresa Mobley, had brown hair that tumbled down around her shoulders, loose and curly as it caressed her fair cheeks. Her figure was full at the top, as Joe liked them, trim at the middle, and with warmly rounded hip.
"A guy can't have much fun just driving to La Mesa and back," Joe said in response to her question. He grinned, showing a white flash of teeth and a sparkle of blue eyes. Belying his twenty-five years, he had a boyish look, with a slightly pug nose, and shock of sandy hair, and an appealingly innocent expression. His long sideburns, however, lent a touch of maturity.
"Hey, speaking of fun.. . " he added, "what do you do for good times?"
"Now that my husband's away," Teresa said, "I mostly read." Joe's face fell. "You've got a husband."
"Mm. He went to California to line up a job. As soon as he finds one, I'm going to join him." Joe stared at her. What she had said didn't ring true. Hadn't she just started with Farris? Why take a new job if she was about to leave town?
But Joe didn't say anything. He merely gave her a smile, turned, and sauntered out of the small office.
Teresa's eyes followed him.
Five minutes later, he was refueling his tractor when she passed, walking down the line of parked rigs. He watched her hips undulate in her rather short, close-fitting skirt. She wasn't blatant about the way she moved them; still, they expressed a natural sensuousness which made Joe want to rub himself. Her nylon-sheathed legs were sleek and shapely.
She stopped at the Kenworth which Buck Callahan drove and which was standing with its left door open. Stretching, she reached for a hand-hold to pull herself up onto the tractor's step. Joe shut off the gas he had been pumping and was about to offer assistance. But the sight of the girl's skirt lifting high on full thighs, deserting stocking tops which were held up by sexy garters, make him hesitate. He felt guilty as he stood and stared at her unconscious exposure of pale, smooth thighs.
Buck rounded the rear of his rig and approached Teresa just as she leaned into the cab-to take a reading of his odometer for the company's records, Joe figured.
Buck stood behind and below her, grinned, and took a reading of his own: Because of her elevated, bent forward position, he had a tantalizing view of her posy-printed, white minibriefs, which spanned and cuddled the rich curves of her bottom.
Tossing a roguish wink at Joe, Buck placed his hands on her bare upper thighs and quickly ran them up underneath her skirt, onto her panties. She gasped, lost her balance, and fell down off the step of the tractor into Buck's ready arms. Her skirt was pulled embarrassingly up to her waist, and Buck caressed her silken-clad tummy. Then he wrapped both hands around the melon-sized bulges of her tits.
Joe charged forward. There had never been any friendship between himself and Buck. The latter was a beefy, swaggering stud who bragged about his sexual conquests and made plain his total lack of respect for women. Joe had his fun, also, but he regarded sex as a two-way street, entitling females to equal pleasure and honest treatment.
"Let go of her, God damn it!" Joe yelled.
Buck whirled around. He had thick brown hair combed straight back, extending to the line of his collar. His fleshy face was adorned by straight, long sideburns. His eyes were squinty, and his mouth wore a perpetual sneer.
"What's bugging you, Gresham?" he growled. "Want to feel her titties, too? Well, Teresa won't mind-will you, babe?"
Her cheeks reddened, and she slapped Buck.
"You slut!" he exclaimed. "No woman hits Buck Callahan and gets away with it!"
Before Joe could intercede, the enraged trucker struck Teresa so brutally across the face that her legs gave way and she tumbled into the dirt. Joe waded into the larger, heavier man, swinging his fists. The pummeling blows to Buck's beer belly caved him in, and he sat down hard. He blinked, startled and physically hurt by the sudden vehemence of Joe's onslaught.
"Well, shit!" Buck grumbled. "If you want her that bad, take her! She's sure as hell not worth fighting over."
Joe turned to Teresa. She was still seated on the ground, somewhat stunned, her legs extended out in front of her and spread apart, her skirt fucked high above her gartered nylons. He reached and helped her to her feet.
"Come on," he said. "I'm taking you home. It's almost quitting time, anyway."
"But I have to get a reading of . . . "
"Forget that," Joe said, and turned to the man who was picking himself off the ground. "Buck turn in your mileage to the office."
Teresa looked up at Joe as he helped her along, and she felt protected for the first time since Ben had left. That was almost two months ago. It was wonderful how Joe had sprung to her aid, she thought. He was so manly . . . yet considerate.
At the office, she excused herself and went to the John while Joe arranged with the boss for her to leave early. In the privacy of the ladies' room, she lifted her skirt and turned her back to the mirror. As she had suspected, her panties had gotten dust all over them when she had taken her tumble, and she slapped at her bouncy rear cheeks, knocking the dust off. She let her skirt drop, turned toward the mirror, and stared at her facial reflection.
Revealing herself to her own intimate inspection, as she rarely revealed herself to anyone else, she read anxiety and frustration in her eyes. Her husband had been gone for nearly two months, and she hadn't heard a word from him. Moreover, she didn't know where he was. He could have been in Los Angeles, San Diego, or perhaps he wasn't in California at all, though he had said that was where he was going. She feared he was with another woman and that she might never see him again.
Bravely she dabbed at her eyes and repaired her makeup. She pushed at her tumbling brown hair.
When she returned to the office, a smile masked her feelings.
"You really don't have to take me home," she told Joe. "I can walk. It's only a few blocks."
"I'm going to drive you, and that's it," he replied. "I cleared it with Farris."
They walked out.
April was a perfect month in the Arizona desert, and they drove with both car windows open, the warm breeze tossing Teresa's hair about. She told Joe how to find the small, white-stucco apartment house where she lived.
As they pulled up in front of it, she said on sudden impulse, "Would you like to come in for a beer?"
"Lady, that's my weakness," Joe grinned.
He followed her inside.
As they sipped ice-cold beers in her living room, she felt much better.
"I want to thank you," she said, "for protecting me from Buck."
"He's bad news," Joe warned. "Stay away from him."
Til try." She smiled.
"This marriage of yours-is it working?"
The sudden, direct question startled Teresa, and she didn't know what to say.
"So it isn't working!" Joe concluded. "Honey, your husband must be crazy!"
"Why do you say that?"
"Because you're so beautiful-and special, too! You're finer than most girls." Joe's clear blue eyes seemed to confirm that he meant what he was saying.
"I couldn't have been so fine for Ben," she looking down, "or he wouldn't have taken off." Joe moved over to the couch to sit beside her, and he took her hand in his. "Now, listen.. . don't blame yourself. Whatever happened wasn't your fault."
"How can you be so sure?" she asked, raising her eyes, and it was as if a veil had been drawn across them.
"Because I can tell." His voice roughened as he added passionately, "God, if only you weren't married!"
Teresa bit her lip. Unfamiliar feelings stirred within her. Her nearness to Joe, the beer, and her loneliness and hurt combined to create a response which she hadn't felt since the early days of her marriage-before Ben had become neglectful, then had taken off.
"I, uh, think you'd better go," she said nervously.
"You're afraid, aren't you?" Joe replied.
"Of your
"Maybe of yourself."
"Please. . . ! "
It was only a murmur, but Joe took it as a cry for something he could give.
He took her in his arms and crushed his mouth to her soft and succulent lips. Her mouth sprang open, and she clung to him. Suddenly he was licking deep into her mouth, and she squirmed, her tits tossing against his muscular torso.
She heated with a suddenness and intensity that frightened her, and she pushed at Joe, finally forcing him to release her. She panted, her cheeks flushed.
"You had no right!" she said, her eyes anguished.
"Yes, I did," he maintained. "You need someone, and you know it. I don't care if you're married or not. Teresa, I want you!"
"Noooooo.. . "
Joe took one of her hands and placed it in his lap. She jumped as if she had felt a hot poker, but he wouldn't let her take her hand away. Instead, he curled her fingers around the long column in his trousers which was hard as iron, poking down his pantsleg.
"That's how you affect me," he said huskily, "just from a kiss!"
Joe moved her hand to the top of his fly, and she tremblingly unzipped him, then jerked her hand back. He caught her hand again and forced it into his pants. She found no underwear in the way, and her brain swam giddily as she fingered his hardness. She uttered a little cry. Finally, of her own accord, she pulled out Joe's eight-inch cock.
He held her hand around the veined, hard-throbbing column which soared rigidly upward, the bulb at its end trying to break out of a circular lip of stretched foreskin. Tightening her fingers around his shank, he glided her hand down to his balls. His cockhead burst forth, big and pink moist with excitement, the rosy inner surface of his foreskin turning out to gather in ripples behind his ridged corona.
"It's so big!" Teresa exclaimed. 'Bigger that Ben's."
"Yessss!"
"Bigger than anyone else's you've ever seen?" Joe was curious as to how extensive her experience had been.
"I never saw . . . anyone else's . . . except Ben's," she replied, breathing hard.
"You can play with it," Joe invited, and took his hand away.
Teresa should have let go of him. She knew that. But she was mesmerized by the massive size and throbbing power of his prick. Her hand twisted on the mushroom-shaped top of it, as if she were trying to remove the cap from a jar. Then she glided circling fingers down Joe's rod and up again . . . down and up . . . rolling his foreskin onto and off of his bulging knob.
He unfastened her blouse, reached inside, and spread it with the backs of his hands. His fingers and palms cupped her jam-packed bra, and he squeezed the resilient globes of flesh within. He reached around her, inside her blouse, and deftly opened the hooks of her brassiere.
I mustn't let him do that! she thought. But she couldn't let go of his thick, beautiful prick. She had to keep pumping it.
Joe lifted her slack bra from the gorgeous orbs on her chest, and he hefted the opulent beauties in his hands. Her nipples were richly pink, the disks around them paler and wide-spreading. Joe bent and licked a nipple, making her coo and squirm.
She clutched his cock hard.
"I can't!" she cried, and her throat sounded as if she were strangling. "I'm married!"
"Just jack me off," Joe said, releasing her tits and raising his head.
"What?"
"Stroke my prick with your hand until I come."
'That will satisfy you?"
"Yes."
Teresa was amazed. She had never had a man make such a request to her before. She had thought all they ever wanted to do was fuck.
As she stroked Joe's cock heatedly, staring down at what she was doing, he tenderly toyed with her tits. His fingers did wild things to her nipples, rolling and plucking at them, making them throb.
She jacked him off faster.
He lifted her big shapely tits and let them drop with a bounce. He bounced them again.
"Ooooh, God . . . wowwww . . . ooh, I'm so hot?' she cried as her hand fairly flew up and down on his high-standing, hard-throbbing cock.
Suddenly he spurted white jism into the air, and his hand caught the blast. He caught the next one, as well. Then he rubbed the gooey substance all over his rosy, swollen cockhead while he gave several small, oozing spurts.
"Got a Kleenex?" he asked.
Teresa stood up and, trembling, walked to fetch a tissue. With her blouse open and her bra still up around her neck, her bare tits vibrated delightfully. She brought the Kleenex to Joe and watched him wipe himself. She brought a small wastebasket, and he dropped the sopped tissue into it.
"You're really satisfied?" she asked.
"For now," he said. "I didn't want to force anything. But you're not satisfied, are you?"
"No," she admitted, then quickly added, "But it's all right. Things are better this way. I'm married, and I have to be faithful to Ben."
Joe let his cock shrink back into his trousers and he zipped up. He drew Teresa back down to the sofa beside him.
"You can relax and not worry," he said, pushing her skirt up. "I can't possibly make you now."
She let him expose her thighs, above the tops of her stockings, as he pushed her skirt as far as her panties.
"What are you going to dooo?" she asked, becoming more excited.
"Treat you the way you treated me," he said. "It's fun, and you don't need to feel guilty."
He stretched a leg elastic of her bikini briefs, glided his fingers underneath it, and felt the hair that lined her pussy. "Ooooooh!" she said.
Joe worked her pussy lips apart, finding the inner ones very moist and suffused with passion. His fingertip tickled the head of her clitoris.
Teresa bucked spastically and uttered an excited cry as she gripped his arm. Her tits jiggled. Her eyes were hot.
Joe proceeded to rub the hard little lump of her clitty, and she bounced wilder, gasping and cooing.
"Did your husband.. . ever do this?" he asked, circling his forefinger in her slick pussy while his thumb rubbed her clit-head.
"No oh! Ooh, God! Just a little . . . but not like thaaat!" she cried, squirming and spasming.
Joe's free hand gasped a tit and squeezed it as her other globe rested tremblingly on his arm. His thumb rubbed her nipple. He added a second finger to the frigging of her hot, juicy cunt, squeezing and stroking her clitoris at the same time.
She was reduced to a mass of quivering protoplasm through which hot throbs of passion coursed. She bucked and writhed. She panted. She clawed at the man who was bedeviling her with wicked yet guilt-free pleasure.
Suddenly her bubble of passion burst and she shook uncontrollably as he kept up his two-handed stimulation of her. Her moans turned to sighs, and she lapsed into blissful satiation. She felt better than she had in a long while.
Joe wrapped her snugly in his arms and kissed her warm mouth. Then he got up.
"You see-you don't have to be afraid of me," he said, "or afraid of yourself when you're with me. You can be just as faithful as you like."
"B-but.. . "
"I've gotta go now. See you in the morning, huh?"
He walked out, leaving Teresa staring at the closed door, wondering if she had dreamed what had happened. It had been so strange and sudden . . . yet so wonderfully satisfying. No dream could have satisfied her like that!
She pushed her skirt down, tried to stand, and found her legs too shaky. She sank back onto the couch.
What a cock he has! she thought. Much bigger than Ben's! I'll bet he can use it better, too! Lots of times Ben couldn't make me climax.
Oh God, why did I ever marry him? she thought.
But I AM married, and I can't cheat! I didn't really cheat today, because I didn't let Joe put his beautiful cock inside me. But I thrilled and got a climax. I gave him a climax, too.
She finally was able to get up, and when she began to walk she noticed that her panties were deplorably wet. Hurrying to the bedroom, she stripped the sopped panties off and snatched a fresh pair of white ones from a drawer.
White for purity, she thought wryly. Oh you hypocrite!
But I didn't really cheat on Ben! another voice still insisted. And what's more, I'm not going to!
Aren't you? she argued with herself. Really? You dig Joe. You dig him a lot. And when he gets in here next time, he won't be satisfied with-what do they call it?-a "hand job," despite what he said. Then what are you going to do, hmmmmm?
She would have to think long and hard about that.. . .
2
Riding high in the cab of his Peterbilt, taking the instant bump-bump-bump vibration which a trucker feels, Joe experienced a common response: His cock got hard in his jeans.
Up ahead at a cafe there was a girl named Marybelle. She had magnificent tits-larger than Teresa's, even. And she had a pussy that was always warm and ready. Joe wanted her, and yet he didn't want her. He ad been thinking about Teresa most of last night and this morning. If he had gone ahead and forced himself on her, he might have gotten her out of his system, he thought. But he had teased both herself and him, thinking it was right to go slowly until she was ready to accept him. Now he was badly hung up.
He wondered how Teresa felt. This morning she had scarcely looked at him when he had picked up his papers. When he stepped to her desk and said "good morning," she had smiled and blushed . . . then had looked quickly away.
Damn!
Maybe she had gotten the notion that he was an oddball or something, when he had only been trying to be nice. Shit! Maybe Buck had the right idea: Fuck 'em and forget 'em!
Joe wheeled his rig onto the large graveled lot next to Dolly's Diner, one of the main truck stops on the run between Phoenix and Yuma. He wasn't sure what he was going to do about Marybelle, who worked there, but he guessed he would play it by ear. That was how he usually did things.
He opened the screen door and walked into the place, which throbbed with country music pouring from the jukebox, punctuated by the clank of dishes and bursts of male laughter from the long counter and the tables at the side.
Joe walked to the counter, swung a leg over a stool, and sat. Marybelle approached him, smiling, her white uniform unbuttoned low, as usual, showing lots of honey-toned, divided titflesh that quivered.
"Well what'll you have man?" she asked, leaning on the counter to show Joe even more.
He suddenly knew what he wanted. "I'll have you and a beer in the back room, honey," he said, only loud enough for her to hear.
"Myyyy, we must be horny today!" she purred.
"Can you take a few minutes off."
Marybelle shrugged, causing an earthquake. "You know Dolly. She's very liberal-minded."
Marybelle brought him the beer, then turned to talk with the platinum-haired, heavyset female who ran the place. Dolly looked out from the serving window and said, "Hi ya, Joe!"
Marybelle returned. "She says to make it snappy. We're one girl short today."
Joe took his beer from the counter, walked to the end and around it where there was a door leading to the restrooms and to a special room farther back. He went to that room and walked in. After a minute, Marybelle joined him.
She was easy-going and kind of sweet for a hooker. She only hooked when she felt like it and only with men who appealed to her, Joe believed. She never named a price, but she took what he gave her, more slut than whore, really. Still, the bedroom was maintained for a purpose, and Dolly no doubt got her cut.
To look at Marybelle, you would think she was just a fun-loving girl-21 years old, a brunette who wore hair in a swirl, tall, buxom, with a short nose, smiley lips, and soft brown eyes.
Joe drained his bottle of beer as she unbuttoned her uniform all the way down. She stepped out of it, her shoved-up jugs quivering in a low-cut, under-wired white bra. White nylon panties sheathed her generous hips and buttocks. Her full thighs and trim lower legs were bare.
Joe's cock rose to push against his pants.
Marybelle looked at him as she unhooked her bra and took it away. Her 44's hung invitingly, the rosy bumps of her nipples surrounded by neat circles of pebbled flesh.
Joe whipped his pants down, and his cock stood rigidly erect.
"Ooooh, shit . . . ! " Marybelle murmured, appreciatively, and sank to her knees in front of him.
He got a happy thrill, because he knew she was extra-hot today. He wouldn't have to pay her a dime if he didn't want to.
Her girlish hand surrounded his stalk and glided his foreskin back. She bent and kissed the rosy knob of his pecker. Then, with a little groan, she opened her mouth and took his cockhead in. She let her pretty eyes fall shut, and she sucked him with liquid warmth.
He looked down at her and tried to visualize Teresa.
I'll bet she's never had a cock in her mouth, he thought.
His shaft twitched between Marybelle's stretched, gliding lips, and she shot a glance up at him. Then she drew back and let his prick spring free, bobbing stiffly as it gleamed with her saliva.
"You felt like you were getting ready to come!" she said.
"Are you kidding?" Joe grinned down. "When did I ever short you?"
"Well, there's always a first time.. . maybe," she purred, rising to her feet and snuggling against him, forcing his wet cock straight up between their bellies.
They kissed with nipping lips at first, then with dueling tongues that worked in the open, after which their mouths caught and clung. Joe filled his hands with the panty-clad mounds of her pliant, man-pleasing ass.
They sank to the bed. Joe still had his t-shirt on, and she wore her panties.
Lying on their sides, facing each other, he used his free hand to squeeze her voluptuous tits. She fingered his long, hard cock lovingly.
"Joe . . . why don't we get married?" she murmured.
He looked her in the eyes and saw that she wasn't kidding. "Because . . . "
"I know, you prick!" she said lightly. "You're not the marrying kind."
"Something like that."
"But you could come home to me every night. I wouldn't work. I'd never look at another guy."
"Really?"
"Really! Ooooh, you've got such a scrumptious cock!"
She wiggled down on him and commenced sucking it again, her tits vibrating against his body as she heatedly pumped her head.
I could sure do worse! he thought.
Again his mind turned to Teresa.
It was her don't-touch-me innocence, though she was married, that made him so hot for her. He had found out yesterday that she wasn't cold, either. She would be a beautiful lay, he believed.
Marybelle wasn't chopped liver, but she'd been around too much. If he ever did get married, it would have to be with someone more exclusive than that.
She rose, kneeling parallel to Joe's body, and pointed his prick straight up so that she could mouth him more effectively. She all but gargled on his cock as her lips drove lower and lower.
Joe grasped the quivery cheeks in her silk panties and pushed forward, forcing her to let go of his dick.
Knowing what he wanted, because he had made his preferences clear to her before, she pressed her large knockers against the bed and kept her hips high. He knelt behind her.
Peeling the panties down off her rump revealed the deep division between her plump asscheeks and the slitted, hairy bun between her thighs. Joe tugged her panties out from under her knees, stretching them, and pulled them from her feet. She spread her knees apart and made her back concave, forcing her bottom even higher and making her love-zone more accessible.
The rosy-lipped division was set, and not from the artificial cream most hookers used. Marybelle had creamed her pussy while sucking Joe's cock.
He held his lance in his fist and moved up. He parted her slit with it, settled himself, and pushed, sinking deeply into the girl's wet, warm love-canal.
"Ooooh . . . wowwww . . . yesssss . . . ! " she groaned and hissed, grinding round and round and bumping.
Joe knelt straight up and watched her ass rotate as he pumped straight and strong, but not too fast. Reaching underneath her belly and backward into her nest, he fingered the hair-rimmed orifice into which his piston was driving. Then he sought out her clit, which was buried in damp little folds of flesh. He stroked and tweaked that love-bump as they screwed.
Marybelle became deliciously obscene:
"Ooooh, Daddycock, I hive it! Drive it-mmmmmm-to me, Daddy! Yesssss! Keep your finger there, too! Ooooh, you really know how to do it! Mmmmmmmm! Dick me . . . fuck meeeee! Now . . . faaaaast!"
Her ass began bobbing choppily, and Joe pounded his prick home. Her buttocks shook as his firm belly noisily slapped them. The old bed creaked and rattled against the wood floor.
Joe fucked faster and faster. His eyes rolled back, and his horny cock throbbed in the wet sleeve of clutching, bobbing girl-flesh. He pinched Marybelle's clitty hard.
He thought about Teresa as he rammed deep, quivering and spurting sperm, and he felt Marybelle climax heatedly around him.
Though satisfied physically, he was mentally ill at ease as he pulled out. He rolled onto his back, and Marybelle was all over him, panting as she kissed down along his body, licking up some spilled juice, then sucking his softened tool and making it clean.
He put some money in her hand just before he left, and she told him, "Think about what I said, hmmm?"
He just grinned.
In his rig once more, jiggling along the road toward Yuma, he was in a thoughtful mood. But he wasn't considering Marybelle's offer. His thoughts were full of Teresa.. . .
3
"Good night, Mr. Farris," she said to the bearded and mustached owner of the truck line and prepared to leave the office. Then she stopped and turned back. Farris was watching her, A speculative expression on his worldly, middle-aged face. "Uuh, Joe didn't come back."
"I know. He called me from Yuma. Trouble with his rig."
"I see."
She left the office, relieved that Joe had not been hurt or something, but still disappointed that she hadn't seen him. Her panties were noticeably damp as she walked out.
She had thought about Joe for most of the day, in ways that she had never thought about a man before-even Ben when they were first married. She kept visualizing Joe's cock, remembering how it had felt in her hand . . . how it had spurted when he had come off. She tingled at the recollection of his dancing, circling finger in her pussy.
Walking down past the row of parked tractors, she didn't notice Buck fooling around his rig.
"Hey, Teresa! Wait a minute!"
She stopped and looked at the husky man, who wiped his hands on a rag as he swaggered toward her. He wore his usual smirk.
"I'm sorry about yesterday," he said. "I was just kidding."
"I don't like to kid that way," Teresa frostily replied.
"You're right. I should've known you were a lady."
"Well, good night," she said, and turned to continue on her way.
"Can I prove I'm not such a bad guy by driving you home?" he asked, hurrying after her. "My van's right there."
Teresa glanced at the luridly painted wagon and replied, "No, thank you. It's just a short walk."
"Hey now, that's no way to act. Why can't we make up? I'd like to be your friend."
"Well.. . " She didn't want to be hard-nosed about it, because she did have to see him every day. "All right," she relented.
The walked to the van and got in. He headed it off the lot and down the street.
"Turn left at the next corner," she told him.
"I'd like to show you a little of the countryside," he said. "It's a nice evening."
"But I really have to get home."
"Got a date?" Buck threw her a rakish grin.
"No."
"Then, what's the rush?"
Teresa felt uneasy. Sill, she didn't want to have more trouble with the pushy trucker. Surely he wouldn't try anything funny, now that he had found out she wouldn't go for it, she believed.
She let him continue on down the street, which became a highway and threaded into the hills. It urns pleasant, with the sun hanging low in the sky, the desert air fresh and clear, carrying the scent of sage.
Buck turned onto a side road.
"Just, uh, where are we going?" Teresa asked.
"No place special. Isn't it pretty here?"
Teresa looked around at the hills, which were sprinkled with wild flowers. There were no houses to be seen and no other cars on the road.
"Maybe we'd better turn back," she said.
"In just a few minutes."
When they came to a turn-off, Buck slowed and cut right. But he didn't stop and back around. Instead, he continued on a narrow dirt road that wound higher into the hills.
"We're getting farther away from town!" Teresa protested.
"Yeah. Too far for you to walk back now." Buck's voice had turned nasty.
"Take me home!" Teresa demanded, her eyes flashing.
"Not until you put out."
"What?"
"Put out! Fuck! Screw! Baby you're no innocent little virgin. I found out you've got a husband who ran out on you. You must be hurtin'. So, why fight it, huh?"
Buck pulled off the road into the desert and stopped the van.
"Do you realize you're talking about rape?" Teresa asked, her pulse pounding with fear.
"Rape.. . shit!" Buck said. "You're gonna give it to me!"
He reached for her, and she wriggled free, opening the door. She almost fell as she leaped down from the van. She began to run, threading her way between clumps of sagebrush.
She didn't know where she was going or how she could get anywhere at all. She just had to get away from Buck! As she heard his boots pounding behind her, she cast a frightened glance over her shoulder, tripped on a small bush, and plunged headlong into the dirt.
She moaned as the rapacious trucker leaped astride her. The fall had made her woozy. She hurt. Buck pinned her down as he sat on her buttocks.
"Oooh . . . pleeeeease!" she begged pitifully.
"Put out, baby!" Buck said. "You slapped me yesterday, and I said you wouldn't get away with that!"
"I'll tell Joe!"
"Fuck Joe!"
"Ooooh!" she moaned again.
Getting some of her strength back, she scrambled forward and managed to rise to her feet. Buck lunged after her, grasping a handful of skirt. She tumbled once more, her skirt ripping. She struggled out of it and took off again, her buttocks wriggling in pink panties. Her blouse flapped loose at her hips. Her bare thighs flashed above gartered stockings.
Again Buck took after her. She moaned and whimpered as she ran as fast as she could. The trucker's clawing hand caught her blouse, and that stopped her for a moment until, wriggling and pressing forward, she broke free. Buck held her blouse as she ran in her undies across the desert.
He gained on her again. She heard him laughing.
It seemed to be a big joke to him. He was stripping her, piece by piece, leaving a trail of torn clothes behind them.
He grabbed at her bra strap, not even trying to catch her this time but only wanting to pull her bra off. He managed to break the hooks. She turned and clawed at him, trying to keep him from removing the flimsy garment, but he yanked it away.
All she could do was resume running, her tits swinging and bouncing as she gasped for breath. She felt herself slowing down. Her legs ached. Buck reached around her, grasped her by the titties, and pulled her back against the hard-on that bulged his pants.
She panted and cried miserably.
Buck tripped her, dropping her onto her ass in the dust, her stocking-sheathed legs flying up. The dirt ground into her panties.
She knew she was as good as raped. She couldn't run any farther.
Grinning nastily, his eyes afire with lust, Buck bent and grasped her kicking legs, pulling them far apart and holding them in the air. All she could do was flop and squirm shamefully on her back, getting her hair dirty, while the horrible man gazed at the thin strip of pink nylon that passed between her thighs, pulling this way and that as she writhed, revealing hairs and the pouting outer lips of her pussy.
"I'll tell the police!" she shrieked.
"No, you won't!" Buck said confidently. "You came with me of your own accord. We work together. Nobody'll believe you didn't lead me on!"
He was right, she realized sickly. There would be nothing she could do.
She stopped struggling and shamefully let Buck feast his eyes on her near-nakedness as his jeans stretched forward, fit to burst. He dropped her legs in the dirt.
"Can we . . . " she sniffled, "at least get back into your van."
"You'll be nice."
"Yes . . . damn you!"
"That don't sound so nice," Buck said. "I think you need a lesson . . . like gettin' screwed in the dirt!"
He grabbed at his belt, jerked it open, and shoved his pants down. Like Joe, he didn't wear underwear, and his cock stuck out-stubby and strange-looking (to Tersa, who hadn't seen many). His prick curved upward at the end, like a hook. It was circumcised, also, and it didn't stand as high as Joe's nor was it nearly as long. Teresa hated it, as she hated the man to whom it was attached.
"Pleeease.. . ooh, don't doooo this!" she moaned.
"Shut up!" Buck snapped, and dropped to his knees. He leaned forward and mauled Teresa's tits.
She whimpered and squirmed, hating the man's touch. But her nipples didn't. They enlarged and hardened as he twiddled them. Then, as he clamped his sucking mouth around one, it throbbed in the bath of his saliva.
His hand was between her thighs, plucking at the crotch of her panties. His finger found her, jamming into her soggy cunt.
"You're wet as a pig!" he said, and pumped his finger in and out of her hole as she squirmed in abject humiliation.
He pulled her panties off and sailed them away. They caught on a cactus. He spread her outer cuntlips with his thumbs and gazed at her pink, glistening center. Her inner cuntlips stood forward, slightly parted, and it was obvious that she was very excited. Buck grinned.
Teresa didn't think she was aroused. Her rapid heartbeat and hot feeling came from fear and revulsion, she believed. Intense embarrassment was added to it as Buck stared right at her open cunt. She throbbed from head to toes.
The awful man crawled forward, topping her. She shut her eyes. Her temples pounded. She could feel blood pulsating in her neck, and her cunt got wetter.
Buck nudged it with his hood-ended prick. She gasped. As he split the portal of her pussy and drove his short cock up her slippery sheath, she squealed. She was very tight, from having had no action for two months, and, despite the juice which she had shamefully exuded, the man's sudden, forceful incursion hurt.
"God damn, you've got a tight one!" he growled, and began pumping fiercely, shaking her body and making her tits leap up and down.
She kept her eyes shut and moaned miserably as the man stayed on straight arms and stared down at her. His shaft was not rubbing her clit firmly, so she didn't feel much at that hot spot. But inside, the wickedly hooked snout of his prick was plowing her, exciting the endings of nerves deep within her snatch. Despite herself, she began to feel passion.
Leaning on one arm, Buck mauled a titty with his free hand. He pulled on her nipple and snapped it back. Hot prickles of sensation scorched her. She began to bob her belly against Buck's thrusts.
She hated herself for responding, as much as she hated him. But she couldn't help herself. It had been so long since she'd had a cock inside her!
Suddenly she realized that she wasn't protected by the pill. She had stopped taking them when Ben had left.
"Oooh, God . . . I'll have a bay-beeeeee!" she bawled.
"Aren't you on the fuckin' pill?" Buck demanded. "Nooooooh!"
"Well, shit!" he said, and pulled out just in time.
His prick jerked up and down, spurting jism. The first shot went over Teresa's head. The next one hit her in the face, and she sputtered. The third and fourth were short, arcing above her belly and dropping down. The last one oozed from Buck's stem and dangled there.
Theresa's whole body pulsated, wildly hot and unsatisfied. Besides that, she felt miserably soiled. She strongly smelled Buck's musky semen which had landed on her cheek.
She shut her eyes and sobbed.
Buck got to his feet, milked his penis and shook the semen off his hand. He pulled his pants up.
"Oooh, please . . . oooooh . . . ! " Teresa said.
"What's the matter with you now?"
"Use your finger on me!" she begged shamefully.
"Huh?"
"I need it! Oooh God, I can't staaaand it!"
Buck got down and stuck his finger into her slippery quim. She gave a harsh groan and began bumping. Buck frigged her faster. Her tits leaped, and she grasped them to still them, then began twisting and tugging at her nipples. She licked her open mouth. She moaned.
The trucker stared down, shocked and mesmerized by her amazing passion as he brought her to a climax with his hand. She yelped, and her pussy pulsated around his plunging fingers. (He had stuck two into her by that time.) She cooed and lapsed motionless in the dirt.
"You're some hot baby, all right!" Buck said. "Get onto that pill!"
"What are you talking about?" she retorted bitterly. "You'll never have me again."
"Aaw, come on now. You really dug it."
"Go to hell!"
Buck got up and snorted. "You're crazy, that's what you are!"
"Just shut up!"
"Want your pants?"
"Yessss," she hissed softly.
"They're on that cactus over there." Buck chuckled.
Teresa sat up and stared. "Ooh, they're probably all full of prickles!"
Buck swaggered over, snatched her pink pants off the thorny bush, and held them up, stretching them open. "Yeah, they got a few stickers in 'en," he said, and carried them back to where she still sat on the ground. He tossed the panties to her.
She miserably picked the cactus thorns out of them.
"I hate you!" she whimpered.
"It's your own fault that you got roughed up."
She stood, brushed off her backside, and pulled her panties on. She was still sniffling.
"Where are my other clothes?" she asked plaintively.
"They're all ripped."
"Well, I can't go home in just my panties!" She and Buck walked toward the van, picking up her torn clothes on the way. She got into them and held them together as best she could. She knew that her hair was mussed and her face was dirty.
"I never thought I'd be raped!" she said.
"Quit feeling sorry for yourself," Buck advised.
They climbed into the van, and he drove her home.
"Better think several times before you tell anybody about this," he said just before she got out. "You're the one that'll get hurt."
She realized he was right as she hurried to her apartment, grateful that at least no one saw her. She realized something else as she showered the grime and scum from her body:
She needed a steady man!
4
"Joe!" Teresa exclaimed when he walked into the office the next day. "I was worried about you!"
He seemed surprised.. . and pleasantly so. Grinning, he ambled over to her desk.
"The rig broke down just outside Yuma," he said. "I needed a part that they didn't have in town, and they had to get it from L. A. That was the hang-up." Joe sat down next to the pretty girl's desk. "You sound as if you might've missed me," he added more softly, looking into her eyes.
"I did," she admitted, seeing no point in playing coy.
"Well, we'd better make up for that by seeing each other tonight."
"That sounds good," she told him, and their eyes communed for long moments.
Arnold Farris emerged from his private office and said, "Okay, Gresham.. . grab your papers and get rolling! You're already running late today."
Because the boss was standing there, Joe and Teresa couldn't complete their arrangements for the date. But the wink he gave her just before he took off let her know that the date was definitely on.
"You like that guy, don't you?" Farris commented after Joe had left.
Teresa blushed. "Well, yes. He seems like a . . . very nice fellow."
"He's hell with women."
"What?"
"He loves 'em and leaves 'em, like most of these diesel jocks."
"Oh. Well, I'm sure I don't care about that," Teresa said as she turned back to her work. But her pulse was pounding.
Throughout the day, her mind was in turmoil: She was married, but Ben obviously had deserted her. That meant she wasn't really bound to him, in a sense. Yet their marriage was still in effect. And what about Joe? Was he really just a ladies' man who couldn't be trusted, or was he sincere?
As the hour grew late, her concern centered more upon the question of whether Joe would be backwhether she would see him before the day was over.
He breezed in j ust before quitting time and tossed his papers onto her desk.
"Well?" he said, grinning.
"You just barely made it!" Teresa exclaimed, unable to conceal her pleasure that he had returned while she was still there.
"How about some drinks and dinner?" he asked as he leaned close to her.
"All right."
"There's just one problem, though-I'm dirty as a pig and I don't want to waste the time to go to my place."
"Oh?"
"So if I could take a shower at your apartment . . . " he continued softly so that just the two of them could hear.
"I suppose," she said, blushing a little.
"Great! I've got a change of clothes in my car."
Teresa swallowed hard. He was a fast mover, she concluded. Maybe Mr. Farris had him pegged right.
Did she care?
They left the office together, and he drove to her place. As soon as they were in her apartment, he put down the small bag he had brought from the trunk of his car and whipped off his t-shirt.
Til just be a minute," he said, heading for the bathroom.
He didn't shut the door, and Teresa blushed when she heard the horse-like stream of his urine striking the water in the toilet bowl. He flushed. The rushing sound of the water in the John soon merged with that of the shower.
Teresa felt nervous and itchy with the bathroom door open, realizing that Joe stood naked in the tub with only a plastic curtain separating them.
Is his cock standing up? she wondered, and blushed stronger.
Suddenly the shower stopped, and she tensed as she knew he was about to step out. She turned away from the bathroom door.
Joe hummed while he toweled himself. The humming drew nearer.
"Ah, it sure feels better to get rid of all that sweat and dust!" he said.
Teresa turned to look at him, assuming that he had the towel wrapped around his middle. Instead, he was nude.
She stared, her cheeks rosy. He grinned back at her, seemingly not bashful in the least. Even in repose, his penis was impressive.
"Do you.. . uh.. . uh.. . would you, that is, like a beer?" she bumbled.
"Sure."
Teresa gratefully turned and hurried to the kitchen. She was dismayed to hear Joe's bare feet padding along behind her.
"I . . . guess I'm not used to casual nudity," she said, trembling a bit as she removed two bottles of beer from the fridge.
"There's nothing bad about it, near as I can see," Joe said, and took the beer she handed him.
As he twisted the cap from the chilly bottle and tilted it to his lips, she had to fight an urge to stare at his cock and balls. She opened her own beer awkwardly.
"You know, I've got an idea," Joe said, as he strolled back to the living room. Teresa looked at his compact, firm buttocks which had little hair on them.
"Wh-what's that?"
He flopped into a chair, hooking a leg over the chair's upholstered arm. That exposed his cock and balls even more blatantly. "Why don't we sort of get better acquainted right now, then go out later? That way, we'll avoid the dinner crowd. I know a nice little Italian place that's open late."
"No!" Teresa snapped, glaring at him.
He squinted quizzically. "What's the matter?"
"Just who do you think you are-strutting around here without clothes on, talking about getting better acquainted? Aren't you taking a lot for granted?"
"I didn't figure I was-after the other night."
"The other night was an accident."
"Shit!" Joe derided. "Get out!"
He slowly set down the half-empty beer bottle. "Do you really mean that?" he asked seriously.
Teresa felt a twinge of panic. She had goofed things, she realized. But she hated to be taken for granted. She felt that a guy should play up to a woman a little.
She bit her lip.
Joe grinned. "Come here."
She moved uncertainly toward his chair. He grabbed her by a hand and yanked her down to a sitting position across his naked thighs. She stared at him.
He kissed her crushingly on the mouth, working her sweet lips open and plunging his tongue inside. He took hold of a titty and began to squeeze it through her dress and brassiere.
She melted, reaching to caress his blond, wavy hair, and she returned his passionate kiss, her own tongue fluttering and gliding. Her tits throbbed as he played with them. Moisture broke through the hairy lips of her vulva.
When Joe's cock rose to press against her clothed bottom, she was ready to go to bed with him. He picked her up and carried her, and she could feel his erection bumping her bottom.
When he put her down onto the bed, she stared at it.
"God, what a thing!" she said in simple awe.
Joe clutched his club-like appendage which was highly elevated, and he waggled it to and fro, grinning. "You like it, huh?" he asked, as if amused.
"I just can't get over how big it is," she said.
Joe moved along the bed until he stood next to her face, his prick projecting toward and angling above her. "Get used to it," he suggested, "so it doesn't scare you."
She reached up and took hold of his shaft. It seemed hard as iron, with a thin skin over it. But it was warm, and she felt blood pounding in its visible veins. She rolled back the foreskin, and Joe's freshly cleansed bulb swelled.
"Want to kiss it?" he asked casually.
Teresa jerked her hand away, making his eight-inch erection bob. "No!" she exclaimed, shocked.
Joe's eyes twinkled as he looked down at her. "You've never done that?"
"Of course not!"
"You will some day. Why not now."
"I never will!"
Joe knelt on the bed and pushed her skirt up. "Please.. . ! " she said, writhing and resisting his hand.
He stopped and looked at her. "What's the matter now?"
"Maybe I'm just not in the mood."
"Well, I am!" he announced firmly. "And I'm not gonna let you turn back now."
He spread her legs apart and dived between them . . . head first.
Shocked, Teresa writhed and tried to push him away. But she could accomplish nothing, and his licking of her inner right thigh, above her stretched stocking top, turned her on.
She gasped and let out little whimpers. Heat surged through her, once more melting her resistance. The tension went out of her legs, and Joe easily moved them wider apart.
He browsed on her satiny-smooth, firm inner thighs. He lifted one leg and licked the back of her thigh, along a garter.
"Ooooooh!" she breathed.
Her heart palpitated. Her panties were shamefully wet.
Ben had never made love to her this way, and it opened a new vista of enjoyment. But she was apprehensive, also. How far did Joe intend to go? His talk about her kissing his cock made her wonder about his standards, if he had any.
He licked to the narrow lace fringe of her floral-printed panties and along them, his nose brushing the sleek nylon.
She had bathed that morning but, after putting in a busy day at work, she was anxious about how fresh she smelled.
"Please.. . ! " she said, and tried to get Joe's head up.
He resisted the effort, and she didn't have the strength to persist with it. Her brain went into a giddy swoon as he began to pull her panties down, and her head dropped back against the bed.
Joe appreciatively eyed the gush of thick dark curls that appeared as he lowered her panties, then the puffiness of pussylips, nearly hidden beneath the foliage. He pulled her panties all the way down her legs and off.
Oh God, this is it! she thought. Fm giving myself to a man Fm not married to! But after Buck's raping me yesterday, what does it matter?
Joe spread her legs once more, tilting her knees up, and she was all there for him to admire. The trail of hair that extended down from her triangle split to run along each side of her inviting pussy. Because of the widespread elevation of her thighs, and due also to her excitement, her outer labia had parted, exposing the ragged, flared edges of her pink inner lips. Juice dribbled along her folds.
Grinning in anticipation, Joe moved closer.
Teresa wondered wildly, Is he really going to. . . ?
OH.. . GOD, YES!
Her belly bumped uncontrollably, smearing her wet cunt against his mouth as he kissed and noisily sucked it. His tongue speared into the juicy feast she offered, and he lapped greedily.
Her pussy throbbed so intensely that she felt about to come, and she moaned, bumping and squirming.
If Joe was at all offended by her scent or taste, he gave no sign of it. In fact, he seemed to enjoy himself immensely as he licked in and out of her hot, slippery hole and up across her wildly tingling clit.
When she grasped his tousled head to hold him against that hot spot, he jerked free and raised his wet face, panting.
Teresa writhed in agonized frustration. She had been so close to a climax, and now was being allowed to hang there!
Joe quickly twisted around, and she wondered dimly what he was doing. When he threw a leg across over her head and knelt above her face, bending forward, she knew what he had in mind. He wanted her to make nasty oral love to him while he.. .
YES! OOH, SWEET GOD, HE WAS DOING IT AGAIN!
As his tongue scurried lightly along her wet pussy-petals, flogging and wiggling them, licking the orifice of her channel, then briefly touching her clit, Teresa lost all control. She reached up and grasped his big cock, which hung cantilevered above her face, and she yanked it down to poke it into her mouth. Her senses swirled wildly as she sucked his spongy pink bulb, finding that it had only a faint, tangy taste and no unpleasant scent. But the idea of sucking on it-and the throbbing firmness of his thick shaft between her lips drove her wild.
What Joe did to her pussy heightened her excitement to fever pitch, and she bumped her lower region while alternately lunging her head at his downward-pointing projectile, taking more and more of his manly shaft into her mouth. She was amazed by her own action as passion swept her toward a release.
She came, bumping her belly and glugging on Joe's mouth-filling prick, and then she got another surprise-her orgasm was just a flash that passed quickly, leaving her less than fully satisfied. She needed more!
Joe pulled his cock from her mouth and turned quickly around to kneel between her thighs.
"Yessss-ooh God, give it to meeeee!" she cried, looking at his elevated prong, which was wet with her glistening saliva. He bore down and into her, twisting and penetrating, stuffing her small pussy with the throbbing thickness of his slippery pole. Her eyes fell short, and she wriggled around his cock. She lifted her stocking-clad legs into the air and kicked them.
Deeper and deeper into her Joe plunged, and the feeling was much more wonderful than with Buck or even Ben. But she became frightened, because there seemed no end to Joe's lengthy rod. How deep was it going to go?
Joe stopped just before touching bottom, and he slowly withdrew until his horny, wide ridge was lodged in the ring of her cunt mouth. Down and deeply into her he plunged again, sinking even farther this time.
"Oooooooh!" Teresa moaned, feeling like a bug on a pin as she squirmed to try to save herself.
But miraculously her pussy stretched and she found that the deeper Joe plunged, the more of him she could take, until finally she knew she had him all, because his testicles tumbled against her anus. She felt marvelously plugged. Thoroughly possessed. Jam-packed with his pulsating male power!
He began a rhythmic stroking, and she brought her feet down against the bed. She pumped with him.
They were fucking, really fucking! And she loved it!
She raised her legs to wrap around Joe. Her arms hugged him, also. She clung lovingly to his muscular, nude form and snapped her hips as he pumped thrust after thrust of prick-power into her long-deprived body. Working close together, as they were, his hard shaft rubbed her clit exactly right, and she took off from the plateau she had previously ascended to seek greater and more giddy heights.
He was tireless. His prick seemed to get stonier and, if possible, bigger with every thrust. His hips maintained a steady rocking rhythm, fucking in and fucking out . . . in . . . out . . . plunging . . . withdrawing.
Her pussy convulsed around Joe's poking member, her circular muscles milking at him as if to bring him along. But he refused to be triggered, and he kept stroking . . .
Teresa gurgled and writhed. She gasped. New passion gripped her, and she resumed feverish fucking.
Their bodies crashed together, slapping fleshly. The super-lubricated, gliding union of cock and cunt made slurpy sounds. Teresa sweat in her clothes while Joe wallowed nude atop her.
As her motions quickened again and grew jerky as she caught her breath raggedly and approached an unbelievable third climax since their sex had started-Joe shifted gears and briskly jazzed her, driving his piston-prick for all it was worth.
"OOOOOOOOH!" she fairly howled.
Her hips hammered wildly.
She gasped, then squealed. When she climaxed this time, it was like a cosmic explosion of blinding light and heat. Into the center of it, her lover spurted, like the spitting, sizzling tail of a fireball.
They knew perfect ecstasy . . . then total relaxation and peace.
"Oooh, nooooh . . . God . . . that was . . . wonderfullll!" Teresa sighed raspily.
Joe kissed and sucked at her mouth. He petted her tangled hair. He kissed her eyelids, then nibbled at her pouty, moist-red lips.
"I love you!" he said, and her eyes popped open.
"I really love you!" he repeated fervently.
Teresa, looking into his clear blue eyes, could not doubt his sincerity.
"Oooh, darling, I love you, too!" she told him.
They kissed, their tongues circling and stroking.
She had forgotten Ben utterly as she clung to her new man and thought about how great it was greater than any fucking she had ever known or imagined. But there was more between them than just fucking, she believed. They were totally right for each other.
She got up, after a time, and went to the bathroom while he stretched out on his back. She took off all her clothes and showered.
She returned to him in the nude . . .
5
"Have you had many women?" she asked, as she held and caressed his meaty, soft cock, watching what she was doing.
He circled his fingertip around one of her nipples. "Why do you want to know that?"
"Farris said you were a ladies' man."
He stared at her. "The son of a bitch! When did he say that?"
"This morning, right after you left the office."
"What made him say it?"
Teresa dropped his cock and looked away. "I don't know. I guess he thought I was interested in you."
"You know what he's trying to do, don't you? He'd like to make you himself."
She stared at Joe. "Old Mr. Farris? Why, he's twice my age! And he's got a wife."
"What the hell difference does that make? Middle-aged men are the most dangerous."
Teresa smiled. "You're jealous, aren't you?"
"Maybe. I've never felt about another woman the way I feel about you."
"Really, Joe?" she asked.
"No shit! I mean it!"
"I'm glad!" She snuggled against him.
"Now we're going to move it together. Better here than my place. I've just got a room."
"Wait a minute! Aren't we rushing things?"
"Nope," Joe said. "What if that husband of yours comes back?"
She stared and didn't say anything.
"Well, he might. And I don't want you taking him in!"
"He won't be back," she said, without much conviction, and averted her eyes.
"Listen to you! You don't know. He could never come back or he could show up tomorrow. Maybe tonight. I'm betting he'll be back, because you're too good to lose. Believe me. I've known a few women."
"We're back to that again," Teresa said, and asked him, "How many."
"Shit, I don't know."
"Have you been with half a dozen?" Joe snorted.
"A dozen, then?" Teresa's tone became sharper.
"I told you, I don't know."
"A hundred, you . . . you stud?"
"Does it make any difference? You're the only one who matters."
"But if you've known all those women and haven't been satisfied with any of them . . . "
"I'm satisfied with you!"
"Why?" she demanded. "What have I got that the others haven't?"
"A very tight little pussy," he said, and grinned as he caressed it.
"Be serious!"
"I am. A nice pussy is very important. You've also got beautiful tits." He squeezed one, forcing her nipple forward.
"Lots of girls have nice tits," she said blushing, because she wasn't accustomed to using such words. "And tight pussies, too."
"How would you know?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.
"Joe. . . ! "
He leaned over her and looked directly in her eyes. "I love you because you're you. That's all I can say. You're everything I need to make me happy physically and in all other ways. You're sweet and naturally sexy. You're outspoken sometimes and mysterious the next. Maybe that's why I'm so hung up on you. I'm never quite sure of you. But I'm sure you're the woman for me!"
"That's nice!" she said, and beamed.
They kissed warmly.
"So we're going to live together," he said. "I don't know."
"Why not?"
"Well, it isn't.. . decent."
"Shit!"
"I mean it. I know lots of people are living together these days, but I still don't think it's right. This isn't so bad-just being together. But living together, that's different. It's like you're pretending to be married, only you aren't. It's not honest!"
"You certainly have strange ideas," Joe said.
"I'll be true to you-you don't have to worry about that!" she assured him as she caressed one of his fluffy sideburns.
"Until Ben comes back."
"Even if Ben comes back! He and I are through!"
"Are you going to file for divorce?"
"Sure. When I get around to it."
"He'll be back before then."
Teresa sat up. "Joe, what's the matter with you?"
He sat up, also. "I told you, God damn it-I'm jealous!"
"And I told you, you don't have to be! I'm through with Ben, and I don't care about any other guys!"
"Even Old Man Farris?"
"Now, that's funny!" Teresa said, and laughed.
'Not so very. He's hot for you, I'll guarantee it. It won't be long before he'll be asking you to work late one night, and then he'll come on with you. What if he were to ask you to be his mistress, to set you up in a nice place, and you wouldn't have to work? Bastards like him can afford that!"
"That's ridiculous," she said, but smiled as if she were secretly enjoying the thought.
"Yeah? Well, what would you tell him?"
She leaned close to Joe and whispered right into his face, "I'd tell him to go fuck himself. How would you like that?"
"You would?"
"I would!"
Joe lay down again.
"Now let's not spoil our time together by arguing," Teresa said. "You're right."
She snuggled down next to Joe, and he took a plump, beautiful titty in his hand. He clamped his moist mouth around her nipple and sucked as he rhythmically squeezed her tit between his fingers and thumb.
She felt for his cock and noted that it was thickening, yet still pliant. "I can't get enough of this!" she said.
He took his mouth from her nipple, looked at the gleaming red bud, then licked it. He let her titty drop.
"Did you enjoy sucking my cock?" he wanted to know.
"Don't ask me that," she murmured.
"I like to suck your pussy and your tits."
She began to stroke him, whipping his meaty cock slowly in the air as she rolled his foreskin up and down on it.
"Suck it some more!" he begged, and his shaft immediately stiffened in her hand.
"B-but you . . . fucked me with it and you didn't . . . wash . . . "
"That just makes it tastier."
"You dog!"
"Try it. Give it a lick. If you don't like it, I'll go get cleaned up."
Teresa grasped his cock harder. "I don't want you to leave!" she murmured hotly.
"Then go down on me!" His voice husked up. "Right now!"
Teresa bowed her head, tried not to inhale his scent, and swiped her tongue around the bald knob of his prick. Her taste buds tingled with the tang.
"Oooh, Joeeee.. . " she murmured, and licked him some more.
She opened her rosy mouth wide and took his cockhead in. She sucked, her saliva washing the residue of jism and pussyjuice off it, and she swallowed down the heady mixture. Her nostrils flared, and Joe's musky scent made her woozy. She sucked him harder.
Soon her circular lips were plunging low on his big, turgid prick, taking it deeply into her mouth.. . almost into her throat. . . sucking for dear life and digging it. Joe watched her intently.
She brought her hand up under his mysterious balls and rolled them.
"Lover! Ooh, darling!" she said as she let his prick go for a moment. Then she engorged it again and resumed sucking, hotter than ever.
"Never do that with anyone else!" Joe warned.
Teresa raised her head and asked in confusion, "What?"
"Never take another guy's cock in your mouth!"
"Don't worry.. . ! " she cooed, and glided her lips snugly down over his big rosy glans. She rhythmically tightened and relaxed her lips in his groove as she sucked his spongy-firm bulb.
This could become addictive! Teresa thought as her senses buzzed with the pleasure of it.
"Let's fuck now!" Joe said. "You get on top of me and ride!"
She raised her head. "Do you like it that way."
"Yeah. Don't you?"
"I don't know," she said as she moved around.
"Ben would never try it. He was a one-position man."
"I like lots of positions," Joe said as she straddled him. "Wait until I teach you the doggy way."
"What's that?" she asked as he held his prick straight up and sat on it.
"Oooooooo!" she said, before he had a chance to answer. "That feels like a fence-post sticking up inside me!"
"Fuck it, honey," Joe said. "Bounce up and down."
She began to move gingerly, gliding her cunt-hole ever so gently up and down on his slippery cock until she became convinced that she wasn't going to hurt herself. Then she rode with gusto, like a cowgirl bouncing on the horn of her saddle.
"Wow!" Joe exclaimed. "Look at your titties jump!"
"Grab 'em, why don't you?" she asked as she kept bobbing up and down.
He did, then found he enjoyed it more when he held his hands loosely around her tits and let them bounce against his fingers.
"You were . . . tell me about the . . . doggy way," she panted.
"Oh, yeah! Well, that's when you-Jesus, your cunt feels good! It's when you get onto your knees and stick your ass up."
"That could be . . . dangerous!" she said, smiling as she fucked him.
"How so?"
"Well, what if you . . . made a mistake and . . . "
"Get in the wrong hole?" Joe asked. "Yes!" Teresa blushed and kept bouncing. "I could do that right now." She stopped bobbing. "Shit, don't scare me like that!"
Joe laughed and pulled her forward so that her tits plopped onto his chest. With his arms wrapped around her back, she resumed pumping her hips, and he met her motions with short jabs of his cock. His hands glided down her back, around her satiny buttocks, and he stretched her rear cheeks apart. The tip of his middle finger tickled her asshole.
"Joe, that's nasty!" she said, and wiggled, trying to avoid the strangely stimulating contact.
But Joe would not permit her puckered dimple to get away, and he kept stroking across it, then rubbing it in circular fashion, softening up the sphincter as she bobbed more heatedly on his hard cock. Finally, with twisting thrust of his middle finger, be broke into her ass.
She caught her breath as her asshole clamped onto the end-joint of his finger, and she thrilled to the odd penetration. Nerve-ends which had never before been stimulated by a man were aroused. She fucked Joe harder. The bed rocked. They moaned and clutched each other as his finger diddled in her asshole while she pounded her pussy on his prick.
She came, and he geysered inside her.
"Oooooh, darling . . . it's just so wonderful any way we do it!" Teresa said and rolled onto her back.
"It sure is!" he agreed, leaning over to kiss her warm lips.
"Maybe I'll let you move in with me," she said. "Now you're talking!"
"I'm afraid I need you all the time!" She lip-nibbled his lips.
"Hey, you're on the pill, aren't you?" he asked, pushing up to look her in the face.
"Yes," she said, and added with a giggle, "I just got back on this morning."
"So you were thinking about us doing it tonight!" Joe grinned.
"I hoped."
He licked her lips, then slithered his tongue into her mouth, and she sucked it. She reached down and began to play with his cock.
He shifted his mouth to her titties but didn't take his dick out of her reach. He tugged on each plump rosy nipple as she pumped new hardness into his cock. Then he slid over atop her.
His lance sank into her super-wet flesh, and they began to fuck again. This was a long, slow, tender screwing during which he stopped several times, with his cock deep within her while they kissed and murmured love-words together; then he resumed stroking steadily, lifting her inch-by-inch toward another mind-blowing release.
When they finally went out for dinner, she was blissfully bushed and happier than she had ever been before. Joe was more man than she had ever dreamed of, and she wanted him for keeps.
He spent the night with her, and when she awoke in the morning he was on top of her again, his cock once more stiff as a poker.
"I can't believe that thing of yours!" she said joyously as she wriggled against it.
"Believe!" he said, and slipped it into her.
They picked up where they had left off the night before.. . .
6
Joe was seated in the jiggling cab of his Peterbilt, but he felt as if he were riding on a cloud. He was a happy man.
Why one woman, out of the hundreds he had known, should affect him in this way, he had no idea. There was just something about her that was impossible to define-something that appealed very personally to him.
He was in love.
It wasn't like him to feel jealous. In the past, he hadn't cared much if his girls had screwed around with other guys. But he was jealous now-of anyone who had anything to do with Teresa. He guessed that was as it should be. She seemed to feel the same way, being jealous of his past lovers.
And that was just what they were, he vowed: Past lovers. He was through with them. Marybelle, Angie, Bernice, Paula-all the girls up and down his routes that he had been screwing off and on, whenever he had the urge. He didn't need them any more. He had everything he wanted, waiting for him at home.
That was something else which was new: Keeping house.
Tonight he and Teresa were going to drive to his place first, pick up his belongings, and carry them over to her apartment. Then he would be living with her, just as if he were her husband. When her real husband came back, nosing around, he would find out things had changed. Joe would send him on his way fast enough! But not too fast for Teresa to serve divorce papers on him before he left town, Joe hoped. He wanted that marriage washed out. He didn't like the idea of living with another man's wife.
It was lunch time and his stomach was growling. A familiar stop was just ahead, and he slowed his rig, pulling over to the side and parking it in a vacant area that the truckers used. He hopped down, sauntered past a small grocery and toward the cafe on the corner. He didn't even think of Angie until he heard her yell at him.
He stopped and waited for the girl with straight blonde hair, in pants and a loose blouse, to come bounding out of the store.
"Where've you been?" she asked, lifting wheat-colored locks away from an eye and giving him a look of sexy invitation.
"Hi, Angie, how are you?" he replied, shifting his position nervously.
"Have you been coming through lately?"
"I've been on another run most of the time."
"Oh," Angie said. "Well . . . how about it?" She moved closer, and looked right up into his eyes.
"Christ, I'm in a awful rush today."
"So I'm a quick girl. You know that."
"Well, uh, I want to grab a sandwich."
"Okay. Stop on your way back?"
"Angie . . . "
She waited, looking up at him, her brown eyes appealing. "We've got to cool it," he said. "Why?"
"I'm living with a girl."
The cute blonde looked as if she had just been slapped.
"I still like you a lot," Joe said. "But, we,, it wouldn't be fair to you or her. Do you understand?"
"No!" Her eyes flashed.
"Well, that's the way it is. Take care, huh?"
Joe turned and continued on his way, realizing that he had been abrupt but believing that was the most considerate way to break off with a girl. He went into the cafe and ordered a double cheeseburger and a beer.
He'd gotten to know Angie when he'd stepped into her father's store one day to buy a quart of milk and some Ding-dongs to eat while he was driving. He'd been running late, and hadn't wanted to take time for a regular lunch. He had flirted with the girl, who had looked cute with her braless boobies jiggling in a boy's-style shirt. To his surprise, she had slipped away right after he'd left and had come running out to join him in his truck. They had ridden together all the way to Flagstaff and back-and what a time they'd had!
Since then, he had stopped by pretty regularly for awhile . . . until he had grown tired of her. He had never led her on in a serious way, but girls were funny. They fantasized and jumped to conclusions a lot. The thing that had never ceased to amaze Joe was how Angie could fool her father and slip away whenever she felt like it; either the old man was awful dumb or he didn't give a damn. Maybe he was hoping she would run off with some guy. Joe had made up his mind that the guy wasn't going to be him.
After lunch he walked back to his truck, not glancing into the grocery store as he passed. He swung himself up into the Peterbilt, started it, and eased back onto the road. He was thinking about Teresa, as he had been most of the morning, when he heard something in the cab behind him. He turned his head and saw that the curtain of the sleeping compartment (which he rarely used for that purpose) was yanked aside. Angie lay curled up on his bunk, wearing nothing but her little pink pants.
"Shit!" he exclaimed, and braked his rig. He was going to throw the girl out, dressed or not.
But she slithered quickly forward and over the hump between the driver's and passenger's seats. Then she dived head-first between Joe's body and steering wheel. He was still doing 40, and his main concern was controlling his rig.
Angie unzipped his pants.
"God damn it!" he said, and could only squirm as she pulled his peter out.
Giving a little groan, she began to lick it, starting with the circular lip of his foreskin. He cock grew, it bulb expanding to break partially out of the hood, and Angie licked the slitted pinkness that was exposed. By then Joe was twitching with excitement, and he knew he wouldn't stop the girl. Still, he was mad.
Angie's lips worked his foreskin down off the knob of his dick, and she took his juicy bulb in her mouth. She sucked it as she squirmed, her hips still draped over the hump next to him.
He kept shifting his eyes from the road to her cheeky bottom in the pink nylon bikini pants that rode low on her crack and angled curvingly up across her pale buttocks. The vibration of the truck made her girlish ass jiggle.
Joe wanted to spank it. He was that mad, even though she was cocksucking him. But he was afraid she would start thrashing about, if he were to swat her, and it might cost him the control of his rig.
He placed his hand on her impudent, panty-clad bottom and shimmied the responsive flesh. She dived lower on his dong, until her lips came close to ringing the base of it. He could feel his cockhead pushing into her throat. His balls churned.
He pulled Angie's pants down and looked at the inviting crack of her bottom. Then he stuck his middle finger into his mouth and let his saliva coat it.
His rig rocked along on the straightaway, a stretch of lonely road that was nearly devoid of cars.
Angie's head motions were getting more and more fervent, sucking his up-thrust cock with long, clasping strokes. He stuck his wet middle finger between her rubbery buttocks, twisted it against her asshole, and felt her champ on his throbbing prick as his finger broke through her converging puckers.
He didn't give her just one joint of his invading digit, or even just two. Twisting and pushing, he drove all three joints of his finger up her ass, clenched what was left of his fist, and worked it grindingly between her buttocks.
She moaned against her mouthful of prick. But she didn't stop sucking on it.
Steering with one hand and trying to keep his eyes on the road, Joe pumped his middle finger in and out of the girl's rippling asshole as his big prick throbbed in her mouth and throat, getting ready to shoot. The rather brutal ass treatment was his way of demonstrating his rejection of her, even as he let her suck him off-which he couldn't very well help.
It if hurt to have her asshole deeply goosed by his finger, she gave no sign of it. On the contrary, she bumped her bouncy buttocks up and down, and she sucked his cock even harder.
He began to squirm in the driver's seat.
Here it comes, babe! he thought grimly. You're going to get your tonsils creamed!
His hips lifted, his prick jabbing deep into her gullet, and he spurted with explosive force, blasting her throat with his sperm. He felt her hot asshole spasm around his deeply sunk finger, and he knew she was having a kind of orgasm, even though her cunny hadn't been touched during the entire affair.
His prick twitched between her o-shaped lips and churned in her throat. Her frenzied gulping squeezed his glans, and that brought forth more spurts.
He pulled his finger from her asshole with a sucking snap.
Groggily she lifted her head, tossing her straight golden hair, and she rolled onto her back on the hump between the seats. She lay partially atop the instrument panel, her scalp against the windshield. She widened her thighs, drawing her knees back, and hanging her lower legs on opposite sides of the division.
Joe looked at the beige-nippled domes of her tits and at the thick thatch of dark hair between her thighs. If she hadn't dyed her crowning glory, she would have been a beautiful brunette.
Joe's gaze kept swinging back from the road and probing at the fleshy-lipped furrow that split the hair-patch between her legs. Her clit was up, and her rich-colored labia was unfurled. The wet, velvet pocket of her girlhood beckoned him, even though he had gone soft.
She smiled and cleared her throat. When she first started to speak, having to shout over the noise of the engine, it was clear that her throat had been strained by the fucking she had taken in it:
"So you like another girl better than me, do you? Does she suck you off like that? Does she let you goose her?"
"Yeah," Joe said. "She lets me do everything I like."
"And you really like her better than me?"
"I'm living with her," he said.
"Then I'm not going to let you fuck me," Angie replied. "I'm going to make you sit there and just watch while I bring myself off."
He thought he would be content to do that, and it was with faint amusement that he glanced back and forth, from her to the road, as she touched the bent little finger of her clitoris and massaged it through its hood. Watching him, she used two fingers to strip the hood back and rubbed the shiny bump of her clit with the forefinger of her other hand.
Her titties jiggled incessantly from the vibration of the truck's engine, the soft white mounds looking as if they were packed with pudding. Her brown nipples stretched toward the ceiling of the cab.
But it was her cunt which kept drawing Joe's curious glances, particularly now as she plunged two fingers into its soft, wet center. She pumped them slowly in and out, watching him all the time.
His wilted cock quivered, then began to lift its head. Soon it was sprouting rigidly from his open fly, and he knew he would have to fuck the girl.
He hated himself and her, also, as he brought his 18-wheeler to a strop on the wide shoulder of the road. Springing his seat, he grasped Angie by the legs and dragged her back into his bunk. Without bothering to pull the curtain (since they were well above the passing traffic, anyway) he flopped atop her. His prick speared her hot, slick pussy, and he began to fuck.
"Ooooh, Joe . . . baby.. . I love it!" Angie cried as she gripped his biceps through his shirt while he propped himself over her. She rocked her hips to the cadence of his deep-reaching strokes.
The driving plunges of his iron-hard prick expressed hostility, not love. But Angie didn't seem to mind, or else she didn't know the difference. All she seemed to care was that Joe was jazzing her, rubbing the red-hot tip of her clitoris with his ridged and veined shaft, expanding her girlish channel with delectable ripples.
He rocked the tractor with the force of his bull-like fucking as traffic whooshed past. Another semi came along while they were going at it and the other trucker ogled in, to see Joe sprawled between the girl's golden thighs, his clothed rump bobbing briskly.
He shot. His gun quivered. The girl squealed and had her orgasm.
Joe pulled out of her, picked up her panties, and used them to wipe his cock. Then he did something quite mean, which was totally unlike him, but he remained angry that she had caused him to cheat on Teresa:
He pushed Angie out of his truck with no clothes on, and he yelled, "You shouldn't have much trouble flagging down a ride like that!"
He gnashed the gears of his tractor as he took off, billowing dust all over the naked girl who stood beside the road. She screamed and jumped up and down in rage, causing her cupcake tits to bounce.
Joe felt doubly guilty as he rocked down the road.
As much as he loved Teresa, he wondered if he hadn't been better off before he had met her . . .
7
Teresa sat dreaming at her desk, still in a rosy glow over the abundant amount of fine loving she had gotten from Joe last night and that morning. She had never been thrilled so much or satisfied so deeply before.
Normally she was attentive to the demands of her job. But today she had let her mind wander, and her work was stacking up. When her boss needed a routing slip that he couldn't find, he came out and noticed the papers lying unprocessed on Teresa's desk. He spoke to her about them. She didn't answer, but merely continued to sit motionless, a little glow in her eyes as she stared off into space.
". . . into my office!" were the only words that got through to her, delivered in an angry tone.
"Wh-what, Mr. Farris?" she asked, coming to and staring at the virile 45-year-old executive who had black hair, a neat mustache that ran down past the corners of his mouth, and a full beard.
"I said . . . come into my office, Mrs. Mobley!"
"Oh. Yes. Certainly, Mr. Farris."
Teresa stood up and smoothed her skirt around her very feminine hips before turning a d walking ahead of her boss into his private office. His keen, worldly eyes watched her buttocks undulate and noted the faint imprint of panty lines.
"Sit down!" he snapped, obviously put out with her, and he swung the door closed so that the remaining small force in the outer office could not overhear.
Teresa sat next to his desk and crossed her legs. Her pale-blue skirt crept above her cute knees.
Arnold Farris rounded his desk from the opposite side and sat in his high-backed leather chair. He stared sternly at the pretty girl who returned his look shyly.
"Just what is it, Mrs. Mobley?" he demanded, insisting upon being formal on this occasion though he usually called her by her first name. "All day long, you've been acting as if you were in another world!"
"I'm really very sorry, Mr. Farris! I'll try to do better."
"I want to know the cause of it," he said, leaning forward.
"I, well.. . " She blushed. "I guess it's because I'm in love."
Farris frowned. "Really? Who with?"
"Joe Gresham," Teresa said proudly. She wanted the whole world to know.
"After I warned you about him?" Farris said, his dark eyes snapping.
"I'm afraid it was already too late then," Teresa replied.
Farris got up and began to pace. "Well, I don't like it! A love affair going on right in my office-and you a married woman! That isn't quite decent, would you say?"
"I.. . I'm going to get a divorce. I really love Joe!"
Standing behind her chair and looking down, so that he could see the rounded tops of her titties inside her blouse, Farris announced, "I can't accept that explanation. And, to be frank, your work has not been altogether satisfactory."
She twisted quickly to look at him. "What does that mean?"
"That I'm thinking of letting you go." His calculating eyes seemed devoid of mercy.
"Ooh, please don't do that, Mr. Farris! I need my job!"
"Do you."
"Yes!"
"Well, perhaps a little punishment will suffice this time, for your inattention to your work."
"P-punishment?"
"Yes." Farris moved around in front of Teresa's chair and stood with his feet planted a few inches apart. "I am a great believer in corporal punishment. Of course, I have no legal right to administer it to you unless you give your permission."
Teresa was surprised and nervous. "Uh, what kind of corporal punishment?" she asked.
"A good, old-fashioned spanking!" Farris declared.
Teresa jumped up, her cheeks blazing. "You're saying that you want to spank me?"
"Exactly. Or else I shall be forced to let you go."
The defiance flowed out of her, and she whined, "Mister Farris.. . ! "
"That's it, Mrs. Mobley-take it or leave it! A spanking, and you can keep your job, or you will be through as of this afternoon."
"That's not fair!" she whimpered, her lip quivering. Her eyes were anguished by the decision which she had to make.
"I considered it eminently fair," her boss said. "You deserve punishment on two counts-first, for neglecting your duties, and second, for screwing around with one man while you are married to an other!"
"B-but.. . is it for you to say.. . ? "
A faint smile played across his satanic features. "I am assuming the prerogative."
"Oooh." Teresa shut her eyes.
"The spanking will be good for you," Farris said, more softly than before. "I might even predict that you will enjoy it!"
Her eyes popped open.
A strange giddiness seeped through her. She had been feeling pangs of guilt for having an affair with Joe while she was married. Though she hated to admit it, perhaps she did deserve to be spanked.
"W-will the spanking hurt?" she asked.
"It will perhaps sting a little." Farris's eyes glinted.
"Oooh."
"Make up your mind!"
"All right," she barely whispered, her lashes lowering. "You may . . . spank me."
She imagined a few pats of Farris's hand atop her skirt-which would give him a dirty thrill, no doubt. But she couldn't help that. And it wouldn't be too humiliating or hurt too badly, she hoped. As he had said, it might even make her feel better
"Wh-where.. . ? " she asked, blushing.
"On that couch." Farris pointed at a vinyl sofa at the side of the room.
Teresa walked to it, a strange excitement building within her, and she carefully stretched out on her stomach, making sure her skirt continued to cover her thighs.
Farris followed and knelt next to the couch.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied meekly.
Farris yanked her skirt up.
She gasped and writhed, trying to push her skirt back down. But Farris held her firmly in place with one hand against her back while, with the other, he continued to hold her skirt at her waist. He watched her shapely bottom quiver in pale-blue nylon panties.
"Noooh!" she cried. "Stop! I didn't know you were going to do thaaaat!"
"Very well," he said, and let go of her. "Pick up your check!"
"Oooooooh!"
After staring at him and starting to push her skirt down, Teresa let her head fall forward against the sofa once again, and she shut her eyes as she blushed stronger than ever.
He chuckled softly and brushed his hand across the rounded loaves of flesh that expanded the thin, silken fabric of her pants.
She felt intensely humiliated, but she couldn't put a stop to the distressing act. She needed her job.
Quite apart from that, she seemed to need the spanking, also, strange as that seemed.
Farris lifted his hand above her helpless buttocks, and he brought it down with a stinging
Smack!
Teresa gasped, and her springy-firm asscheeks trembled.
Farris spanked the seat of her panties again. Her vibrating buttocks made the pastel nylon shimmer.
Her boss's eyes, which were like burning chunks of charcoal, surveyed her quivering, vulnerable beauty, from the narrow elastic band that encircled her waist.. .down across her panty-expanding rondures . . . to the crescents of pale buttock that peeped out from beneath the lower elastics of her briefs. His gaze moved down along her full, tapering thighs, which were bracketed by taut white garter straps, to the stretched tops of sheer, beige-toned stockings.
He spanked her again, harder.
"Oooh, Mister Farris!" she cried.
He set up a tat-tat-tat of raining blows against her flimsy, stretched-taut briefs, and her buttocks wobbled wildly. She moaned and squirmed, clawing at the couch.
He quickly yanked her panties down, exposing her lusciously rounded asscheeks which were beginning to turn pink. She got a giddy thrill and gasped, but she didn't try to stop him as he smacked his flat hand against first one jiggling naked buttock and then the other, making an erotic, fleshy sound as the blows burned her.
Never in her life had she been so embarrassed-or so oddly, perversely thrilled!
She began to buck against the spanking, her bottom reaching for each flesh-jiggling smack. She moaned and whimpered. Her fanny seemed on fire.
And that wasn't all: The lips between her thighs were getting slick, and her clit grew stiff between them.
He stopped spanking her, and she spread her thighs, pulling one leg out of her lowered underpants. She shamefully clamped her thighs around the edge of the vinyl sofa and began to rub her slit against the firm ridge of plastic!
Hunching fervently, not caring that her boss was looking on, she frigged herself on the sofa cushion. He smiled fiendishly as he watched her rosy-swatched buttocks quiver while the edge of the sofa grooved her soft, furry cunt, getting smeared by her slippery juice.
He stood and ripped his pants open. The bonelike stiletto of his prick leaped out, and he grasped it fiercely. Teresa cast a guilty, impassioned glance over her shoulder as she strove for her release, and she saw Farris stroke his wicked cock, rolling his brownish foreskin up and down across the ridge of his purple-toned, bulging bulb.
"Oooh, my goodness!" she cried, and, with stocking-clad legs spread widely over the edge of the sofa, she rubbed her hot twat harder against the plastic cushion.
Farris stroked his hard-on rapidly.
The room seemed to throb with the forces of unleashed passion, although neither person was touching the other. Masturbation reigned supreme!
Teresa came, gasping and gurgling, then giving a long, heartfelt moan as she showered fresh, fragrant pussyjuice over the edge of the sofa.
Farris gave a growl. . . then he spurted. He held his pipe-like prick pointed downward, and his blasts of thick, creamy cum splattered over Teresa's burning ass, trickling down between her buttocks, tickling her asshole, flowing over her hairy cunt.
She moaned and shuddered, cumming again.
Farris milked the final drops of his semen down upon her. Then he fetched a box of tissues and, after wiping off his cock and returning it to her expensive trousers, he knelt next to the sofa and proceeded to wipe Teresa's ass.
She cooed and quivered, draining the dregs of her orgasm, as the man stroked a tissue between her buttocks, then used another to wipe off the outer surfaces of her rear cheeks. Finally he wiped her pussy, picking up her own spilled juice as well as his.
He worked her escaped leg back into her pale-blue panties and pulled the silken undergarment up to snugly embrace her buttocks and her cunt. He ever ran his fingers along the bottom elastics, neatly tucking them beneath her rear cheeks. Then he flipped her skirt down and helped her to her feet.
"Feel better, Teresa?" he asked with a smile.
"Yes," she sniffled. "But my bottom burns."
"That will serve as a reminder to do better work, and to quit seeing that tramp truck driver," he said. "Remember, I'm always here."
"Yes, Mister Farris!" she exclaimed, and hurried from his office.
She hardly knew what to think when she went back to her desk and sat down.. . gingerly. She was getting funny looks from the other two girls in the office. There were even some snickers.
Teresa assumed that the other girls had gotten to know their peculiar boss as well as she had. But that hardly made her feel any better.
What would Joe think if she were to tell him what had happened?
He would blame her, of course . . . and probably with good reason, though there had seemed nothing to do at the time but give in to her boss's lewd demand. At least, she took pride in the fact that she hadn't fucked him.
Well, Joe would never find out, if she could help it.
Buck swaggered in about then, and she refused to look at him.
"Just back from El Paso!" he announced, and slapped papers onto her desk. "Hey! It's ole' Buck Callahan. Can't you at least give me a hello?"
"Hello, Buck!" one of the other girls, a cute blonde, sang out.
"That's more like it!" he said, then glanced back at Teresa.
She still refused to acknowledge his presence, as she had done ever since he had raped her and gotten away with it.
"How's your boyfriend?" he asked softly, so that neither of the other girls could hear.
She looked up at him then, and the jealous glint in his eyes told her she would have more trouble with him before long. Perhaps she should have let Farris fire her, she thought.. .
8
All the anxieties which Joe and Teresa had suffered during the day were quickly dispelled after they got together that evening. When Joe moved into her apartment, everything seemed perfect. Sleeping in the same bed, fucking at night and again in the morning, being in close contact all night long-deepened their love and seemed to shut everyone and everything else from their lives.
Buck no longer presented a threat to Teresa. Farris was a joke whom she would laugh at if he should ever make a lewd approach to her again. Ben was only a specter, without substance.
Similarly Joe's long line of ex-girlfriends no longer had any meaning in his life. What did he need another woman for? Teresa gave him everything. She was his and he was hers . . . alone.
The next day was a Saturday, and they spent it getting settled in the apartment. On Sunday morning, Joe suggested a drive into the country.
"I'd better wear pants," Teresa said, scampering about in her skimpies.
Joe was watching her, his cock curving forward from his balls as if it were thinking of standing up-despite having been fucked down to putty three times since the evening before.
"The only pants I want you to wear," he said, "are those little white ones you've got on. Put a skirt over them, with a blouse. And, baby . . . don't wear a bra."
"Joe!" she said, smiling at him with her large knockers exposed. "How will it look for me to be bobbing around in my blouse while we're hiking? Other people will see me, you know."
"It'll look just great!" he said. "And as for other guys, let ;em suffer!"
"You don't care if they ogle me?" Teresa asked, surprised.
"So long as you don't encourage 'em," Joe said. That seemed fair enough, she thought, and she was more than happy to abide by the condition.
They got dressed, put up a light lunch, and took off. Joe drove up into a secluded, palm-lined canyon.
"Did you ever bring another girl here?" Teresa asked, letting a flash of jealousy show.
"Never!" Joe said, grinning at her. .They both knew it was a lie, but Teresa decided to make no more of it.
They got out of the car and walked.
"Oooh, look at that!" Teresa cried, pointing. "A little stream running down the hillside! There must be a spring up there."
"Shall we have a look?" Joe suggested.
She started up a steep path ahead of him. No other hikers were around. Joe reached forward, ran his hands up the outside of Teresa's bare thighs, across her panties, and to her waist. As she kept climbing, he watched her bottom wiggle in her silky briefs.
"Stop it!" she exclaimed, laughing with embarrassment, and slapped his hands away.
He stepped up onto a flat ledge of rock, next to her, and pressed his body against hers, showing her that his cock was hard.
"You!" she exclaimed, and glanced about quickly. "What if someone comes?"
"There's only one way into the canyon, and we can see it from here." He was already unbuttoning her blouse.
"What if somebody's up on top of the hill?" Teresa persisted.
But Joe had her blouse open by that time, and he popped a ripe boobie out.
"Ooooh, loverrrrrrr!" she purred, and petted his wavy, thick hair as he bent to lick and suck her straining red nipple.
He let out her other jug and turned to suck at that one. Both her nipples were sticking way out by then and gleaming wetly.
Her exploring hand told her that Joe was sticking out, also, though his pants were in the way. After casting another quick glance up and down the hill, Teresa pulled his zipper and let his prick spring free.
She stroked his foreskin up and down on his thick, long rod and left it rolled back. His bulb swelled in the sunshine, glowing moist and rosy-pink. It made Teresa's mouth water.
"Do we dare?" she asked, again glancing up and down the hill and seeing no one.
"Well, this rock is gonna be kind of hard to lie on," Joe said.
"I wasn't thinking about lying down," Teresa told him. "I just want to suck your cock?"
"Oooh, baby!" he said, and his stuck-up dick quivered.
His girlfriend squatted in front of him and didn't grasp his prick with her hand, because it was standing so beautifully on its own. She simply opened her mouth and fitted her rosy lips around his bulb. She sucked him like that, with some of his ridge still showing, and she tickled his sensitive slitted snout with her tongue.
He groaned with passion, and his hard-on twitched between her lips. She began to bob her brunette head, her mouth gliding silkily up and down on his rod. The liquid sounds of her mouth on his dick merged with the rippling of the little stream beside them.
"Careful now, Tommy! You don't want to fall!"
The woman's voice from the path, just above, caused Teresa to bob to her feet, her cheeks blushing. She fumbled to pull her blouse closed.
But there was nothing Joe could do about his hard-on. He had no hope of getting the massive, up-thrust thing back into his tight pants. As 8-year-old Tommy, his blonde mama, and his bespectacled dad clumped down the hill, they all got an eyeful.
"Mama, look at that!" the kid cried, pointing.
Blushing fiercely, she said, "Shut up and come on!"
"But he's got such a big one!" Tommy said as they went on down the path. "Will mine ever get to be that big?"
"He ought to be arrested!" the boy's father said. Joe and Teresa clung together, and they couldn't keep from laughing, even though they were embarrassed.
Then he said, "Maybe we'd better get the fuck out of here. That guy's liable to call a ranger or something."
"I don't want to leave until I've finished with you," Teresa told him. "I want to suck you all the way this time and take your cream in my mouth!"
The offer was too wonderful for Joe to resist, and he let her squat in front of him once again. His penis had slumped a little, but she quickly brought it back up to straining, stiff erection. Her pumping, o-shaped lips, devouring his dong, thrilled his sight as well as his tactile nerve ends. He also loved to watch her titties shaking. Those delightful stimulations, coupled with the thrill of doing a daring act outdoors in a public location, brought Joe to quivering climax fast. His prick jerked between Teresa's sucking lips, and he happily spurted his product onto her lapping tongue.
She gurgled and groaned, sucking harder. Joe heard and felt her gobbling his semen down.
When finally she stood up, her eyes a bit glassy but with a warmly satisfied look in them, Joe pulled her against him and kissed her full on the mouth. He could taste his own sperm on her lips and tongue.
She buttoned her blouse and they hurried down the hill and to their car. They drove to another location where they felt safer. It was a high plateau, and they took off on foot across the meadow. They followed a stream and finally arrived at a bubbling spring where they sat down and ate their lunch on the grass.
Afterwards they stretched out to relax. But it was not long before they were in each other's arms. Joe pulled Teresa's skirt up, as she lay partially atop him, and he massaged her supple buttocks in her clingy nylon pants. His ardor was tangibly reborn, and the responsive girl wiggled her tummy against his hardness.
"Joe, it's so wonderful with you!" she said breathlessly, between kisses. "I love you so much!"
"I love you too, baby," he purred, and unbuttoned her blouse.
Her tits rolled against his hand like rubber balls, but with straining stems that demanded a sucking. He moved his mouth from nipple to nipple. Teresa reached down and began to shove his pants off.
Playfully laughing and squirming, they undressed each other, secure in the knowledge that they were really all alone this time and would not be interrupted. After Joe was totally nude, Teresa stood up with just her panties on, and she made a show out of posing this way and that, against the natural background.
She clutched her tits from underneath, squeezing and lifting them. She shook them to and fro while Joe grinned and lay back, saluting her erotic display with his cock.
She turned her back to him, hooked her thumbs into her white briefs, and stretched them down a bit at one side. Her other thumb folded them over slightly, exposing the top of her crack. Wiggling her panties this way and that, puckers in the nylon slanted upward, then downward, across the fullness of her buttocks. The plump undercurve of one buttock escaped.
Finally Joe had taken all of the teasy show he could stand, and he lunged at his sweetheart, drawing her down to the grass beside him. He pulled her panties down, and she happily kicked out of them, after which she spread her thighs wide apart and let him stroke her soft, furry cunt.
His fingers twiddled her pussy-petals apart, and he dipped a digit between them.
"Oooh, darlinnnng!" she cried as he stroked his finger up and down in her slippery fuck-hole.
Soon he was bending between her thighs, and her legs were up. He topped off his lunch with the succulent dessert of her pussy.
After awhile he crawled forward, fully over her, and slowly glided his long prick up her tunnel of love.
"Mmmmmm, that's wow-derfulllll!" she moaned, undulating her belly around his cock.
He began to stroke, steadily with no hurry, as he supported himself on straight arms and watched her face while he fucked her. She squirmed voluptuously. She bicycled her bare legs in the air. Her tits trembled like domes of pale Jello-o with cherries at their crests.
Joe gradually stepped up his strokes until he jarred her with the power of his passion. She felt very warm and loved. His jarring thrusts, made her tits really leap, and he liked to watch them. But she preferred to have him closer to her, and she reached up to encircle him with her arms and draw him down. Lying against the pneumatic shock absorbers on her chest, he drove his prick briskly up and down on her slippery, man-clutching cunt. She raised her legs high over his back and crossed them.
They fucked in loving concentration beside the bubbling spring and, when Teresa began to climax, it was as if she had a spring inside her, erupting warmth which spread throughout her body. Joe erupted, shooting bursts of his maleness high into her crevice, and she climaxed stronger, her sheath rippling up and down his quivering member like a myriad of little fingers.
He drained into her every last drop of jism which his balls had contained.
After withdrawing, he lay back, and Teresa snuggled next to him. They napped, not dreaming, because their lives had turned into a dream come true-a dream of perfect love.
Driving back to town, Teresa sat as close to him as she could. They played sentimental country music on the radio. She thought how wonderful it was to be loved and protected. All her troubles seemed a lifetime away . . .
9
"Shit!" Joe exclaimed after answering the phone in the apartment and having a conversation with the company's night dispatcher. He had turned in his new address and phone number on Friday, because company rules required that they be able to reach the truckers at all times for emergency assignments.
"What's the matter?" Teresa inquired, hurrying in from the kitchen where she was preparing dinner.
"They want me to take the Salt Lake run tonight," he said.
"Oh, no!" Teresa replied disappointedly, because she had been looking forward to more good loving.
"What'll you bet this is the start of a whole new gig for me?" Joe said. "They'll probably have me on nights from now on."
"Why?"
"Because Farris knows I'm living with you."
'That asshole!" Teresa said, employing a term that was rather strong for her.
"He's an asshole, all right!" Joe agreed. "A dirty, shitty asshole at that! He wants to get his fucking hands on you, damn it!"
"But that's not fair to switch you to nights," she said. "Can't you do something about it?"
"Yeah. Bitch."
"Is that all you can do?" Teresa asked, looking at him in dismay.
"Shit, honey, I'm a goddamned truck driver."
"But don't you have seniority? What does your union say about it?"
"I don't belong to the union," Joe said sorrowfully. "Farris runs a goddamned non-union shop."
"Then maybe you should quit."
"Christ, no! There aren't that many jobs nowadays."
Teresa returned to the kitchen and pensively resumed her preparation of dinner.
"Joe. . . ? " she called finally. "Take the run tonight, and tomorrow I'll have a talk with Farris. Maybe if I ask him, he'll give you a break."
'The hell you will!" Joe roared, appearing in the kitchen doorway, his face livid.
Standing at the kitchen stove, Teresa looked at him, and her mouth dropped open. She had never seen him so angry.
"That's just what he'd like to have you do, God damn it!" Joe went on. "He wants you to ask him for something. Then he'll say. . . 'why sure, honey, just give me a little piece of ass and I'll give you anything you want'. "
"But I wouldn't do that," Teresa said, hurt.
"Just stay clear of him!" Joe shouted. "Yes sir, no sir, and never set foot in his private office!"
"You don't trust me!" she accused, getting angry.
"Well, you're a damned pretty woman," he said, "and you do like to fuck!"
Teresa wanted to believe she hadn't heard right.
"Anyhow," Joe went on, as if he realized the need to dull the effect of what he'd just said, "I don't want a woman sticking up for me. I'll fight my own battles!" He stomped back into the living room.
Teresa seethed. So that was what she got for being warm and affectionate with Joe, she thought. He had no respect for her! He thought that she would fuck with just any man!
She slammed down the spoon she had been using and strode into the living room. "If you want dinner," she said, her eyes flashing, "you can make it yourself! I'm going out!"
"What?" Joe seemed startled.
She snatched up her purse and was gone without saying another word. She started up the street, not knowing for sure where she was headed, but having to get away. Her dream of love had suddenly been shattered. How could there be love without trust? If Joe thought she was cheap and common, he didn't love her anyway!
She heard a car approach from behind her, and then it slowed and idled. She didn't look that way, because she was used to having cruisers try to pick her up. She strode resolutely forward, her braless tits bobbing in her blouse as she passed underneath a street light.
"Teresa!" a man called.
Recognizing his voice, she stopped and turned to stare at Buck's brightly painted van. He was leaning over next to the open right-hand window. "If you're goin' somewhere," he said, "I'll be glad to give you a lift."
She remembered what had happened the last time she had taken a ride with him, but she thought bitterly, What difference does it make? Joe doesn't respect me, anyway!
She walked to Buck's van and got in.
"That's the girl!" he said, and chuckled as he started to drive.
"What are you doing around here?" she asked not too warmly, as she stared straight ahead.
"I was parked outside your apartment, waitin' for Joe to take off."
"What?" She turned to look at him.
"I knew they were gonna call Joe for work tonight. Me and the night dispatcher are good buddies."
"You set this up, you . . . you. . . ? "
"Baby, don't piss your pants! I had nothin' to do with it. I just found out about it. Farris is the guy who gave the order."
"So, why were you waiting outside my place?"
"Cause I figured that after Joe left, I'd drop in."
"For what?" Teresa demanded spitefully.
"Aaw now, baby . . . you ain't forgot the fun we had out in the desert, have you?"
"You think I call that fun? Getting raped?"
"Yeah, I think you call that fun!" Buck said. "I know you climaxed. Some gals have to be raped in order to get off!"
"You stupid prick!" Teresa said.
"Hey, now wait a minute . . . "
"Anyway, I didn't get off when you raped me, if you'll recall," she said bitterly.
"Yeah. I had to diddle you with my finger afterwards. But you sure as hell got off then. We wouldn't have had that problem if I hadn't had to pull out. Are you on the pill now? Bet you are," Buck added with a smirk, "now that old Joe is living with you."
"You know, the better I get to know you, Buck, the more I dislike you! Why don't you let me out right here?"
He continued driving. "It's too bad you and me got off on the wrong foot. I think we oughta set things right.. . get to know one another in a nice way. I can make you like me, baby!"
"Fat chance!" Teresa said.
"We'll just see about that."
Buck turned a corner, and again she was out in the boonies with him, off the main road. He pulled over and parked.
Her pulse accelerated apprehensively. Or was it excitedly, she wondered. She wanted to get back at Joe, and this was a way!
Buck urged her out of the seat and into the back of his van, where a dim light glowed. The place was a perfect love nest, with deep, plush carpeting and a large bunk. He set her down on the edge of it.
"Want a drink?" he asked.
"No!"
"Then, whattaya say we just get cozy."
"Meaning that you want to lay me, I suppose."
"Well, yeah!" a dirty grin spread across his fleshy face.
"No!" she said, and her nerves thrummed giddily.
"You lie down."
"Huh?"
"On your back!" She was getting so excited that she could scarcely speak. Buck stretched out.
She attacked his trousers, opening them quickly, then fishing out his penis, which immediately sprouted in her hand to assume the hooklike shape that had fascinated her before.
"Hey, baby . . . God damn!" he husked, as she bowed to his horny, curved dick.
She began to lick the smallish, upward-curving head of his organ, finding it harder and less plushy than Joe's swollen bulb. The shaft-part was thicker than the head, but short.
Teresa took his cock into her mouth and began to suck on it. Her senses swirled. She bobbed her head, and the curved tip of Buck's horn raked her palate. Her lips glided all the way to the base of his shaft, touching the bristly hair on his balls.
Her tits shook in her blouse, and they throbbed. Buck grabbed them and squeezed roughly. He began to jab upward into her mouth.
Oh, I'm paying Joe back now! she thought. I'm sucking another man's cock! But I'm not letting him fuck me, so Joe was wrong about that!
Buck's upward jabs were too much like fucking, however, and Teresa didn't like them. Besides, they were too rough. She thought she might be able to control him better if she slid over atop him. But, damn it, she still had her panties on!
She straightened on her knees and reached up underneath her skirt to remove her briefs. That was when she lost control of the situation. Buck gave her a shove, plunging her headlong toward the foot of the bunk. He got around behind her.
"Oooh, pleeeease . . . nooooooh!" SHE BAWLED.
But the man paid no attention, pushing down on her shoulders with one hand while he pulled off her pants with the other. He spread her thighs and got between them, jerking her hips up. She couldn't crawl away, because there was no room. Buck had her wedged into a corner!
She felt the thrust of his wicked prick, parting the lips of her pussy and sinking into her hole, which Joe had lathered well that day.
"God damn, baby, you're always wet!" he growled, and began to forcefully fuck her, ramming his clothed belly against her bouncy buttocks.
This must be the doggy way, she thought. Joe told me about it, but we never got around to trying it-She hated doing it with Buck. But at least she hadn't agreed to it. He was forcing her, and it was another rape, just like before.
He moved jerkily, briskly, right from the first, not giving her the long, slow, luscious strokes that she enjoyed with Joe. He wasn't sticking as deeply into her, either, because he didn't have as much to offer. But he made up for it by the curved, ticklish tip of his dong, which rubbed her cunt-wall in a way that drove her wild.
She gasped and began to bob her bottom. Buck fucked her harder, grunting. He lay forward, over her ass, and reached underneath to grasp her titties. He wallowed atop her, riding hard, and she throbbed from head to toes, hating him but still responding.
"Shit, what a red-hot fuck!" he gasped.
"Oooh, shut up and dooooo it!"
She bumped and writhed beneath him as he jerked and churned inside her. Suddenly he straightened on his knees, grasped her naked hips, and rammed his hard prick into her like a jackhammer. Her head bumped rhythmically against the wall of the van, which made her all the more woozy.
She cried, "Fuck me! Fuck meeee! Oooh, you . . . dirty . . . fucking . . . ape!"
She came, spasming hotly around his hard-driving rod, and he spurted. Again. Again. Again. His sperm splashed backward along his quivering cock and seeped out to drizzle through her fur.
"Oooooh, shit.. . ! " she moaned, miserable because she had enjoyed him, and she flattened out on the bunk, causing his softened cock to slip away.
She lay there, panting, wishing she didn't have to think. But she couldn't help it.
Joe had been right about her. She did love to fuck!
She had even begged Buck for it, once he had gotten started.
"Now we really understand each other, huh?" he said.
She didn't answer.
"Are you still gonna shack up with pretty boy
Joe?"
"Please shut up," she begged weakly.
"Sure. I'll give you time to think things over. But I figure you won't need very long."
She sat around on his bunk and sniveled, "Where are my panties?"
"You're some gal," he chuckled, "always lookin' for your pants! Why do you even bother to wear any?"
She found them, worked her feet into them and pulled them up. Her wet cunt immediately made her panty crotch pasty. She pulled her blouse together across her bulging boobs and buttoned it.
"How about a drink now?" Buck invited. "After we've had a few, we can go again."
"Please just take me home!" she said, pushing at her tangled hair.
"Okay. I gotta get up early tomorrow anyhow."
They crawled back into the front seats, and Buck drove her to her apartment. He tried to kiss her good night, but she slid out, and didn't say a word to him. She heard him laugh mockingly as he drove away.
I'll never be able to hold him off from, now on, she thought: He'll be coming at me every chance he gets! He'll be here whenever Joe's away.
Oh, Joe, what have I done to you? What have I done to US?
When she got upstairs, she found that Joe had already left for work, and she was grateful for that. If he had been there, she probably would have blurted out what had happened, and he would never have forgiven her, she feared.
As it was, perhaps she had another chance, she thought as she turned on the shower. She stepped out of her shoes, then stripped off her dress and panties. She stepped under the soothing, cleansing spray.
Yes! she decided. I'll try to forget about what I did with Buck, and tomorrow I'll apologize to Joe for stomping out of the apartment. Then I'll never, NEVER let Buck or anyone else get to me again!
Joe's the only one I want, anyway. He's sweet and kind. . . most of the time. And he can love me better than Buck or anyone!
He was even right about me. I AM hot! That's why I've got to be careful. BUT I NEED JOE WITH ME AT NIGHT!
Even though Joe told me not to, she thought, as she soaped her hobbling tits, I'm going to have a talk with Farris. I'll get him to transfer Joe back to days! He'll do it if he sees there's no hope for him and me.
I'll tell Mm that I love Joe so much, I can't get along without him. He'll understand that.
The plan seemed neat and sensible to Teresa, because that was the way she had constructed it to seem. But she didn't know her kinky boss very well. And she wasn't yet acquainted with all the secret quirks of her own mind, which had made her do some of the shocking things she'd done and were even now leading her on to more . . .
10
"Mr. Farris-may I see you, please?"
The dapper, middle-aged man with the black beard and mustache looked up from his desk, and a smile spread across his satanic features.
"Of course, Teresa!" he said. "Come in and shut the door."
After doing that, she approached her employer's desk hesitantly. "I, uh, hate to bother you, but.. . "
"It's never a bother to see you," he said. "Now, just what is on your mind?"
Teresa was glad that her boss was in a pleasant, expansive mood. She smiled and relaxed a bit.
"Well, it's about Joe and me," she said.
Farris frowned. "Oh, yes. That driver."
"I love him, Mr. Farris."
"Don't you mean you're infatuated with him-his macho image and all that? He's no good for you, Teresa. Anyway, you're married."
She bit her lip. As she had first feared, it was not turning out to be an easy conversation.
"I, uh, know what my feelings are, Mr. Farris. And the reason I came to see you was that.. . well, you're making it very difficult for Joe and me by assigning him to an all-night run." She blushed.
"Interferes with your sex-life, hmmm?" Farris said.
"Yes!" Teresa admitted, and she raised her head defiantly.
"I shouldn't speak harshly to you, because I'm fond of you, you know."
"Joe said that's why you changed him to nights-because you're jealous!" she blurted, and was immediately sorry.
What was she trying to do, she wondered, play one man against the other? If so, why? Farris didn't mean anything to her . . . did he?
He read the confusion on her pretty face and took quick advantage of her loss of poise: "I'm going to prove to you," he said, "that I have nothing to be jealous of, that it makes no difference to me whether you spend your nights with Gresham or not. I have you in the daytime!"
His eyes glinted as he snatched up a telephone and said into it, "I am not to be disturbed. Hold all calls!"
"W-what are you going to do, Mr. Farris?" Teresa asked.
"Teach you another little lesson. Take off your dress."
"What?"
Farris rose. "Take off your dress!" Resentment swept her. "You can't demand that I do that!"
"Of course not. You can quit your job."
"Are you saying that if I don't strip in front of you, you'll fire me?" she asked, eyes flashing and cheeks rosy-red.
He settled back into his chair and smiled confidently. "More or less."
There were laws which covered such things, Teresa knew. She might go to the State labor office and complain. But as a married woman living with another man, she didn't relish making a public issue of her sex-life. Also, she recalled the other day when Farris had spanked her . . . and she tingled at the memory of how it had made her feel.
She had proved to Farris then, she realized with a touch of shame, that she would comply with unconventional demands. So she supposed she couldn't blame him for carrying the game a step further.
She would not screw, however! She wanted to make that crystal clear.
"I won't have sex with you, Mr. Farris," she announced, "even if it means giving up my job."
"Who said anything about having sex? I asked you to take your dress off."
"Just my dress?"
Farris nodded.
It was not the sort of thing that a female employee might reasonably be expected to do, Teresa realized, and she didn't see how it fitted in with the reason she had come to see him. He had simply turned the situation to his own advantage.
Why was he so tingly, she wondered. Did she want to take her dress off in front of him?
She looked away, while her cheeks continued to glow.
Oh, shit? she thought. Why stall around? She removed her dress.
'There's hardly anything cuter," he said, "than a pretty woman in bra and panties. Especially when she's also wearing a blush. And those stockings! I'm glad you have the good sense not to wear pantyhose. They're anti-erotic."
"Mr. Farris, I don't care to discuss my underwear with you!" Teresa said, feeling defensive. "Now just what is it you wanted? Did you just wish to ogle me?"
"Indeed! Come over here and sit down, please, next to my desk."
In her white bra, blue and pink flowered panties, white garter straps, and sandy-toned hose, Teresa walked up next to his desk and sat down. The vinyl chair-seat immediately communicated its coolness to her through her thin briefs. She crossed her legs to try and re-establish her poise.
Farris visually caressed the pale thighs above her stockings, the flimsiness of her briefs, and the swells of lush titty that rose above the rims of her bra-cups.
He opened a drawer of his desk and took out two objects which first gave Teresa pause, then caused her blood to race: a coil of clothesline rope and a heavy pair of shears.
"Wh-what are you . . . g-going to do with those?" she asked, her eyes widening.
The fact that she didn't get up and run gave Farris a signal that he could proceed with confidence, she realized later. At the time, running didn't even occur to her, because she was so fascinated by the man's bizarre approach to matters sexual.
Without answering her question, he proceeded to cut four short lengths of rope, after which he knelt in front of her chair. Her tension heightened by the moment.
What in the world is this oddball going to do? she wondered, all aquiver.
Still without speaking, and without touching her more than was necessary, he tied each of her ankles to a leg of the chair and her wrists to its arms. He didn't make the bonds so tight they hurt her. Still, she was securely roped and could not rise.
Her heart pounded. Her blood rushed. Her throat became dry, although she moistened somewhere else: There was a sprinkling of passion-dew onto the dainty crotch-band of her briefs.
Continuing to kneel in front of her, Farris picked up the scissors with which he had cut the rope.
"Spread your thighs wider, dear, and I assure you that this will not hurt," he said.
"What are you going to doooo?" she asked, suddenly terror-stricken.
"Not touch you with the scissors at all," he replied, "provided you sit quietly."
Teresa froze. Quite obviously she could not resist. She had allowed the man to put her in a position where she was totally helpless and had to depend upon his mercy.
While holding the shears back, in his other hand, he extended his middle finger and pointed it up between her open thighs. She jumped as his finger audaciously insinuated itself beneath a leg elastic of her nylon briefs, and he stretched the crotch of her panties forward. That was when he brought the scissors into play, deftly snipping the center of her pants in two.
What was left of the panties snapped back, and Teresa's cunt was exposed-or, rather, the top of it was. The lower portion was squashed against the chair, with her panties still in between.
"Sit forward!" Farris said, and took a pair of thick books from his desk, wedging them between her back and the chair. She was thereby prevented from backing up, and her twat hung forward, off the chair seat, her snipped panty crotch dangling.
Excitement had flared the inner lips of her pussy, pushing their edges out from between her larger, hair-covered labia. Her clit was noticeably erect. Also noticeable were the drops of girlie juice which she earlier had deposited on the crotch of her panties, now hanging in plain view.
"You enjoy these little sessions in my office-don't you?"
Farris asked, and lifted his shears toward her chest.
"Ooooh!" was all she could say.
He worked a finger under the center of her brassiere, stretched the divided tit-hammock forward, and neatly parted it with the scissors. The sides of her bra literally flew back, exposing her round, voluptuous tits, which quivered. Her nipples swelled as he looked at them.
"You have adorable jugs!" he said.
"Please.. . ! " She lowered her lashes, and her lush bottom lip trembled.
Her entire body was a throb. Her clit tingled. Her nipples pricked.
Farris replaced the scissors on his desk, opened a drawer, and removed a long feather. Teresa was staring again. She became hotter.
Farris pointed the feather toward her tits.
"Oooh, God!" she cried. "Pleeease! That will drive me craz? I-zeeeee!
The imaginative man began to tickle her nipples.
She couldn't get away. She couldn't cover herself. She could do nothing but twist on the edge of the chair and gasp and moan as Farris stimulated her prickling nipples with the tip of the feather.
"Ooooh . . . ooooh . . . ooooh!" she panted.
Lurching, her rounded titties shook.
The man tickled her boobs all over and underneath. It gave her a fantastic sensation, arousing yet frustrating. Though Farris stared avidly at her, he didn't once touch her with his hands.
He worked the feather down her front, across the lacy band of her garter belt and the elastic of her briefs . . . onto her silken-clad tummy . . . then into her fur-patch, which was exposed. Her hips bumped spastically, and she nearly slipped off the edge of the chair.
The man tickled lower, touching her hooded, protruding clit with the tip of the feather, and she gasped as if she'd been contacted with a live electric wire. He wiggled the feather up and down the pink edges of her flared pussy-petals.
"Nooooh!" she cried. "Oooh, God! Please doooooon't!"
But Farris just went on, a brightly determined glint in his eyes, and he worked the tip of the feather between the labia of her cunt. He glided the feather up and down her slit, then, in and out.
Teresa thought she would go out of her mind. She had never felt such superficial excitation which gave no satisfaction whatever! There was no pressure, no fullness, just a wicked, giddy tickling that drove her sensitive nerve-endings wild.
She panted and lurched, straining against her bonds. She tried to push her bottom backward, to get away from the man's feather-fucking of her cunt, but the books behind her prevented that. She couldn't shut her thighs, either. All she could do was squirm and shake and moan.
Though she was bedeviled to the extreme, she also became fantastically aroused. She was almost ready to beg Farris to fuck her
He sawed the feather in and out, across the tip of her clitty, and the delicate, gliding touch constituted fucking, in a sense-but not the kind of cunt-filling thrusts she needed.
Finally he pulled the feather out, and she almost swooned from gratitude. But then he simply pointed the devilish instrument lower, coming up underneath her pussy which hung over the chair's edge. He touched the wet tip of the feather to her little anus, and she jumped again, crying out.
Farris tickled her asshole unmercifully while she bumped and cried and squirmed, titties bobbing.
When at last he placed the feather back into his desk, she had been reduced to quivering putty. If she could have gotten free of her bonds, she would have crawled all over him . . . sucked his cock . . . and impaled herself on the satisfaction-giving male prong.
But he gave no sign of letting her off the chair. Instead, he removed from his desk another implement: a fantastically large, realistically molded dildo, made of pink rubber. It looked just like a gigantic prick!
Teresa had never seen such a thing before. She stared at it, eyes wide, and she panted.
Farris pointed the artificial cock toward her mouth.
Oh my god! she thought. Why doesn't he give me the real thing?
But she gratefully accepted the substitute, since that appeared to be all she was going to get, and she gobbled the rubber cockhead in. She shut her eyes and sucked slurpingly on the dildo, which Farris moved gently in and out between her stretched, slippery lips. Saliva dribbled down her chin and dropped onto her titties. Her brain swirled.
But she wanted a cock that tasted like a cock! She wanted to feel it throb. She wanted to taste the juice that would have been seeping by then from a real prick!
All she had was the cunningly molded hunk of rubber which stretched her lips wide and pleased them as she lunged against it; it also pleased the inside of her mouth, plugging it as a man's dick would have done. Still, she lacked the taste and scent and warm, pulsating maleness which gave cocksucking its greatest thrill and satisfaction.
Finally Farris pulled the ersatz prick from her mouth, and she whined, "aren't you hard? Oooh God, don't you have something better to give me?"
"I don't fuck promiscuously," he replied. "Nor do I let girls suck my cock."
"Ooooh, I hate you . . . I hate you!" she said.
He chuckled, and replied, "Let's see how you like this."
Touching the spit-coated dildo to even wetter lips of her pussy, he gave the wicked implement a twist . . . and he pressed it steadily in and upward.
Teresa gasped as the thick, hard-rubber column spread her cuntmouth open wide, glided in, and continued on up her channel, dilating it greatly and giving her, at last, something of the full, tangible pleasure that she craved.
The artificial cock must have measured ten inches, and Farris didn't give her nearly all of it before taking his hand away and leaving the thing sticking in her, motionless. Her pussy throbbed around it, her circular muscles grabbing spasmodically. She felt a dull ache in her lower region, a longing for the thing to be stroked!
Farris untied her wrist from the chair. "Then please yourself, my darling," he said softly but with a rasping edge to his voice.
"Ooooh think you, thank you!" Teresa cried, and grasped the rubber cock which protruded obscenely from her cunt.
She began to pump it, using both hands, gliding it thickly in and out, working it deeper with every pull. Her mouth hung open, and her wide brown eyes gazed warmly at Farris, though with an impersonal vacancy to them, as if she were lost in a world of her own.
He appeared to like that. Smiling, he rose to his feet, and his pants-front bulged.
Teresa watched him open his trousers and un-limber his horny cock. He stroked the leathery brown foreskin up and down on it, alternately exposing and concealing its moist, purplish bulb.
She had given up any hope of having that dick pushed into her, and instead resigned herself to humiliating masturbation. She no longer cared, because it felt good. What a big, thick monster of a rubber cock it was which rippled her cunt-walls and stroked the red-hot tip of her clit . . . which sank deliciously deep into her quaking belly!
She writhed and moaned and frigged herself while she watched Farris jack off.
His pleasure-giving fist snugly gripped his loose, wet foreskin, gliding it up and down across the ridge of his cockhead, making his bulb swell and drool. He stared at Teresa's quivering tits and at the dildo she was shoving up and down inside her. The pink rubber gleamed with her juices, and he could see her damp pussylips turn outward each time she withdrew the artificial cock, then turn inward as she fucked the thing deeply into herself. She writhed and panted.
She was going to get there, she realized. She was going to come strongly!
She stepped up the rhythm of the self-fucking, greedily going for the satisfaction she craved.
Farris quickened the tempo of-his masturbation at the same time. His cock twitched and quivered as he stroked it. It stood up high and hard, pointing directly at Teresa's face. His bulb swelled voluptuously.
She gasped. Her mouth hung open. She diddled the dildo fast.
As she pantingly surged toward her shameful climax and was just about to reach it, Farris let go. A powerful spurt of thick, creamy cum issued from the end of his cock and shot at Teresa's face. She couldn't dodge. She couldn't do a thing to save herself. She didn't even want to, she realized shockingly, as his sperm splattered into her face, and she got a bumping, bone-jarring orgasm.
Spurt after spurt of the man's musk-scented semen struck her nose and open mouth and closed eyelids as he stood very close to her and kept stroking his quivering prick to make it shoot strong. The goop dribbled down her pretty face, hanging from her nose and lower lip, running along her rosy cheeks. She moaned and squirmed, her own climax deepening until she experienced one of the most thrilling and complete comes she had ever known.
Farris's cock slumped in his hand, and he snatched a tissue from his desk. He wiped himself first and restored his softened penis to his pants. Then he wiped Teresa's face as she continued to coo and whimper in the afterglow of her extreme excitement and bliss.
She finally pulled the wet, gleaming dildo from her snatch, and he watched her pink orifice slowly close before taking the artificial cock from her and wiping it clean. He placed it back into his desk.
Teresa gazed at him, awed by the very strange but satisfying experience he had given her.
The door of his office opened, and she whirled around to watch a young man enter the room and shut the door behind him.
"I said I wasn't to be disturbed!" Farris roared.
"Yeah, but that doesn't apply to your son, does it?" the new arrival asked as he walked around next to his father and gazed at the nearly naked young woman who sat bound to a chair.
Teresa returned his gaze without shame. She had worked all through that and had no more girlish embarrassment left.
The boy was about twenty years old, she judged, but with a remarkably worldly face, even exhibiting a touch of boredom as he looked at her. He was dressed in a sport jacket and slacks, with an open shirt. His dark hair was combed straight across his forehead and ran down past his ears to the line of his collar. His face was clean-shaven, and he had a mole on his right cheek.
Surprisingly, he seemed more conservative-more straight-than his father.
"This is my son Phil," the elder Farris said to Teresa. "He's on spring vacation from college. Phil, take the young lady home, will you? Her name's Teresa."
She blinked. "B-but I'm supposed to be working."
"Fuck that!" said Farris. "You've earned the rest of the day off." He bent and unbound her ankles from the chair.
"Looks like Dad has been playing one of his little games," Phil observed. "Did you enjoy it, Teresa?"
Ignoring the impertinent question, she glanced away. The younger Farris seemed as smug as his old man, and she didn't like him any better.
"I can go home by myself," she said, and stood up. Her legs were unsteady at first, and she felt ludicrous with her damaged underwear dangling.
"Take her home," Farris repeated to his son.
Facing away from both of them, Teresa shucked her panties off and shrugged out of her bra.
"I'll pay you for those things," the elder Farris said, and held out a twenty dollar bill.
She ignored it, raising her dress and wriggling it down her form which was devoid of under things except for her garter belt and nylons. Phil watched with what seemed like faint interest and didn't smile. Teresa noted that the front of his trousers was straight.
"Use the back way," his father indicated.
"About Joe . . . " Teresa said as she stared at the bearded man.
"Ooh, yesss. Well.. . " He moved around behind his desk. "To be fair to you, I'll put him back on days. What's the difference? I only made the change to get you in to ask me for a favor, anyway."
Teresa glared at him, wanted to say something, but didn't. She turned and strode to the back door of the office, Phil following along.
That exit avoided the awkwardness of going out through the main office, which Teresa appreciated. But she still didn't like the idea of Phil driving her home.
"Really . . . you don't need to escort me," she said as they crossed the parking lot. She felt next to naked with no panties or bra underneath her thin and rather clingy dress.
"When Dad says to do something, I still do it," Phil replied, "since he's paying my bills."
Teresa gave up protesting and walked to his yellow, wedge-shaped sports car ...
ll
Theresa had no sooner gotten into the car, settling into the vinyl bucket seat with only her thin Dacron dress between it and her most sensitive parts, before she became anxious:
What would Joe say when she showed up at the apartment, interrupting his sleep in the middle of the day? She could tell him that she wasn't feeling well and had been excused from work for that reason. But he might still be angry with her for last night, and he might look at her in a suspicious way.
Or else he would want to make up and fuck. Both thoughts distressed Teresa.
She didn't want Joe to touch her right then. She was confused and upset. Having gone in to see Farris on Joe's behalf, with only the purest of intent, she had submitted to a bizarre and degrading treatment which had driven her wild with illicit excitement and had ended up giving her a lot climax while Farris splashed his spunk all over her face!
After that, she was going to go home to the man she loved?
"So, how did you like Dad's notion of how to entertain a young woman?" Phil asked as they drove along. "Did it turn you on? Or more to the point.. . did it get you off?"
Teresa cast him a critical glance. "Is it any of your business?"
He smiled faintly. "No. But I have an academic interest, you might say. Psychology is my university major."
"Well, I don't car to be a laboratory subject," Teresa sniffed.
"Nice day," Phil commented, glancing about. "Shame to just go home."
"I was thinking the same thing," Teresa blurted. "Let's go some place else."
"Shit!" Phil said, and it was the closest thing to excitement that she had noticed in him. "Do you mean it?"
"Yesss!" she said with a shiver.
The young man whipped his sports car onto the desert road and, in minutes, they were zooming through the bright Arizona morning, headed for she knew not where.
"I say you're frustrated after what Dad did to you-right?" he asked.
"Wrong! I came like crazy!"
"Well, I'll be a son of a bitch," he said in a casual tone. "Want some music?" he asked, reaching for the radio.
"No!"
"What do you want to do?"
"Drive!"
"Yes, milady."
She sneaked glances at him, marveling at how cool and mature he seemed for a college kid. He was about three years younger than she.
"I've really fucked up my life!" she said suddenly.
"Oh?" Phil glanced at her.
"Yes, I'm married. And I'm living with a guy. And another guy has been laying me. Then there's your father."
Why am I telling him all thin? she wondered helplessly. Have I freaked out or something? Or is it just that I have to talk with SOMEONE and he's handy? Maybe it's because he's a psychologist, or is going to be.
"About my father.. . " Phil said. "Don't entertain any illusions there. He and Mother have been married for twenty-two years, and they're not about to split up. He's not in the market for a mistress, either. He plays with lots of girls. Just diddles around with them in his odd ways. He's kinky as hell. But, then, you found that out."
"Yes."
"You're a good-looking chick," Phil said, glancing at her again, "and you're out of the ordinary. There's something about you."
"Just what?"
"I'm not sure. You seem reserved, yet you aren't bashful. I've got a feeling no one knows you very well."
"Including myself," she said. "Want to go to a motel and screw?" Phil asked abruptly. "I don't know."
Phil chuckled. "There you are! Mysterious. That really turns on a man."
"But you 're not turned on. You're Mr. Cool."
"You could turn me on quick enough."
On an impulse, she reached over and unzipped his pants. Her fingers dipped inside and withdrew his soft penis. It was neatly circumcised and not especially large.
"It doesn't excite you much to have a girl touch it," she observed. "Fellatio is my kick. Do you suck?"
"Sometimes," Teresa admitted. She couldn't seem to hold anything back.
"But you didn't suck my dad, I'll bet."
"No. He didn't seem to want that."
"He doesn't care for any direct contact. We've discussed his quirks. He and I are very outspoken with each other. Want to suck me?"
Teresa shivered, though the day was warm. "I shouldn't! I ought to have you take me right home."
"But that isn't what you want. Lean over here and give me a sucking."
"Now?" Teresa asked. They were skimming down the road at 60 miles an hour, traffic passing them in the opposite direction.
"Sure. Right now. Sex is more fun in unorthodox locations, I've found, especially when there's the risk of discovery. I once had a girl suck me off in a moving elevator. I just kept the car going up and down. Anyone outside could have stopped it at any floor and gotten on. But no one did. I had a hell of a come."
"And the girl?"
"She told me later that she was hoping somebody would get on, right while she had my cock in her mouth! Can you understand that?"
"Maybe," Teresa said, and she shivered again.
Phil waggled his soft whang. "Are you going to suck it or not?"
She leaned across the console which separated the two seats of the sports car, and she began to lick the tasty head of his cock as she held the stem up. He reached into the top of her dress.
"Good tits!" he said, and his dick stiffened in her hand, the head swelling.
Teresa took his lollipop into her mouth and sucked on it.
She felt like a complete slut, and somehow the feeling was good. She wanted to be just as wild and nasty as she could be-it seemed fitting.
She pulled out Phil's hairy balls and began to lick them as his spike stood up next to her face, pressing across the corner of one eye. He was rolling her tits in her dress, pinching and plucking at her nipples.
Oh, if Joe could see me now, he would be mad at me and kick me out! she thought. It would serve me righ t! I don V deserve him!
I don't even deserve Ben.
I don t know what I want any more, if lever really did!
"I can't drive while you're doing that," Phil said, his voice turning rough. "I'm going to pull over and park."
"Aaaaahhhhhhng . . . " Teresa said, licking his dick up and down.
He parked on the shoulder of the road, and she could hear the traffic passing.
When he opened the car's door, she raised her head. "What are you going to do?"
"Get out."
"B-but your cock's sticking up!" she said. "You can't get it back in your pants that way, can you?"
"Who said anything about putting it back in my pants?" he asked, and stepped out of the car. His prick poked out and upward from his open fly. There was no traffic passing at the moment.
"You get out, too," Phil said.
"Oooh God, no!"
"Afraid?"
Teresa got out, trembling. She had really flipped, she decided. Freaked for sure! She didn't care what the shit happened!
Phil led her to the center of the highway. A car was coming.
"Are you crazy?" she asked when he pushed down on her shoulders.
She knelt on the line in the center of the road and resumed sucking his stiff and throbbing cock. The approaching car honked and whooshed past, so close that they could almost feel it. Phil laughed, and his hard cock quivered between Teresa's sucking lips. She had a hot, fleeting come.
"Oooh shit, this is rich!" he exclaimed. "What do you suppose those people thought?"
"Ghawwgh . . . ghawwgh . . . " Teresa said, sucking for dear life.
Another car approached, braked, and passed slowly. A middle-aged woman rode alone in the car, and she stared. Phil grinned at her.
"Get onto the hood of my fucking car!" he told Teresa. "I want to screw you right here!"
"Right on the road?" she asked, panting as she looked up.
Another car streamed past, honking its horn.
"Right here! Right now!"
Phil hustled the confused but excited young woman to the side of the road, and boosted her up onto the sloping hood of his sports car. He raised her legs in the air, holding them wide apart, and stared at her lack of panties.
"We've got to hurry!" Phil said, his voice shaking. "Because somebody's going to tell the cops."
He dropped his pants and shorts, so as not to soil them, and he moved forward, his arms wrapped around Teresa's stocking-clad legs. Her ass was lifted off the car's hood, suspended in mid-air.
Phil's stiff prick found its own way into her well-greased quim, and he sank thickly, throbbingly inside her. She cooed and squirmed. More traffic passed. There were more honks, some shouting.
She heard, "You crazy, goddamned . . . " What, she didn't know, because the car had sped past.
Phil fucked her with straight, strong jabs of his cock as he held her up by the legs and twisted her, squirming her hot, wet cunt around him. Now he grasped her by the asscheeks, letting her legs flop. Her garter clips winked in the sunlight, and her bare thighs gleamed above tightly drawn stocking tops.
Phil stroked his hard prick in and out of her quaking pussy as he wiggled her supple, firm ass in his hands. She opened the top of her dress and let her tits bobble free.
She was advertising to the whole world that she was a tramp, and that seemed to please her. She wanted everyone to know!
She heated in response to Phil's stroking thrusts, and even more so in response to the shockingly public location of the act as cars and trucks passed in both directions. Nobody stopped. She kept her eyes shut, but she could hear and feel the cars, and she knew she was being watched as Phil pumped his prick into her.
She squirmed and bumped against him. She gasped.
When Phil exploded inside her, she came lusciously. His semen spurted, pooling in the depths of her quaking, gratified vagina.
He pulled free, yanked his handkerchief out of his sagging trousers, and wiped his still-stiff and bobbing cock while Teresa tucked her tits away and scrambled off the hood of the car. How delicious it had been! She couldn't get over it!
Back inside the car, Phil fired up the engine, whipped the nimble machine about, and took the first dirt road, rocketing across the desert and kicking up dust.
"You can bet there's a black-and-white racing to where we were right now," he said.
"Oooh, God . . . if we'd been arrested.. . ! " she shuddered.
Phil made a quick turn onto an intersecting secondary highway, went a short distance, and turned again.
"They'll never find us now," he said, and relaxed a bit.
"What if somebody took our license number?" Teresa asked.
"Are you kidding? They had better things to look at than our fucking license plates!" Phil laughed. "Baby, you were terrific! Shit, that was the most fun I ever had in my life!"
"I don't want to go home," she warned him.
"Great! We'll find a motel."
"Oooh, God.. . ! " Teresa murmured.
Twenty minutes later, she was spread out on her knees and elbows, with her ass sticking up, wearing just her hose and garters, while Phil knelt behind her, wearing his socks. He was slowly stroking his rod in and out of her slick, snug-fitting pussy as he ran his hands up and down her thighs, across her expanded stocking tops.
"Phil. . . ? " Teresa asked, her tone tensely quavering. "Will you do something for me?"
"Sure. What?"
"Stick your cock up my ass!" He chuckled uncertainly, and stopped stroking, holding his prick deep within her vagina. "Are you sure you want that?" he asked. "Yessss."
"It might hurt."
"I hope so!"
"You're a funny chick, all right," Phil remarked, and pulled his wet, stiff pecker from her.
He pinched the cheeks of her ass, spreading them wide apart to look at her anus.
"You've never had it up there, have you?" he asked, noting how small and tight her asshole was.
"Noooh!"
"But today you want to get punished?"
"Yesssss!" she hissed heatedly.
"No good," Phil said, and poked his prick back into her pink, slippery cunt.
"Why not?" she demanded, as he resumed slowly pumping his cock inside her.
"Because I'm not going to be used as an agent to solve your personal problems."
"Then I'll pick up another man!"
"Shut up and screw."
Teresa lunged forward, and his prick pulled out of her to bob up and down, stiffly quivering. "What the hell.. . ! " he said. "Stick it in my asshole," Teresa told him, "or I won't let you get off!"
He sighed. "Okay. If that's how you want it.. . "
She positioned her ass again trembling, and he pinched her cheeks wide apart. He stared at her star-shaped converging puckers. Her anus had a sprinkling of tiny black hairs around it.
Phil poked forward, nestling his prick in the sucked-in dimple.
"Oooh!" Teresa said. She was frightened. Still -she wanted him to do it!
Gritting his teeth, the young man began to grind, twisting his cum-coated prick against her resisting anus. Though if she had no concern for her safety at the moment, her anus wanted to protect itself.
But it lost the effort, being gradually forced to yield and spread as Phil pushed and twisted. The little aperture opened up. It got shockingly bigger and bigger as Phil watched and Teresa moaned, hurting. The greased head of his prick spread her anus quite wide indeed before it popped in. Teresa shuddered, and her asshole clutched him.
"Godddd!" she said. "That feels like a log sticking in there!"
"It's going to feel worse!" Phil promised. "But it's what you wanted!"
He ground ruthlessly forward, burrowing deeper and deeper into the girl's virgin ass. She panted. She whimpered. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
The fellow's stiff, thick cock bored inch after inch into her tightly clutching anus, until most of his shaft was sticking up her hot rectum. He withdrew a little, and Teresa took a grateful breath. But the relief only lasted for a moment, as Phil came grinding in again . . . even deeper.
"Ooooooh, it's awww-ful!! ! ! " the girl shuddered as he pumped his thick prick in and out of her abused and violated rear. But she couldn't blame him. She had asked for it!
Ever mindful of this fact, Phil showed no mercy. He fucked her tight asshole with straight, strong, quickening thrusts.
"Ooooh . . . oooooh . . . oooooooh.. . ! " she gasped and moaned, hurting like hell as he brutally buggered her.
The tightness of her nether orifice, and the squishy warmth of her invaded bowels gave him such excitement that he couldn't hold back. His strokes became more and more rapid, until his ass-fucking dick fairly flew in and out of her clutching, rubbery rim.
Though her conventional sexual nerve-ends were not involved in the fucking, Teresa responded. How much of her arousal was due to physical stimulation, how much to pain, and how much to the idea of what Phil was doing, she didn't know. But she began to bob her butt, her anus gulping at his hard, thick, penetrating cock.
"God damn!" Phil husked, fucking fiercely. "You love it.. . don't you?"
"Yesssss!" she hissed, panting. "Oooh, fuck my hot ass! Give me all the prick . . . you've got! Stick it.. . way up in there! Screw my asshole! Haaaardr
Phil rocked her with the force of his unconventional, sodomistic fucking, and she came, quivering and jerking. His prick twitched in her asshole's rippling grip, and he spurted. His thick, creamy sperm irrigated her bowels.
She had to rush to the bathroom as soon as Phil had pulled out, and she sat shitting for a long while, her asshole still feeling as if it were on fire.
When he drove her home, she was subdued. She walked with difficulty after getting out of the car. She had cleaned herself up, and her anus had contracted back to its normal shape, thought not quite as tight as before. Still, she felt weak in the knees and sore between her buttocks.
What she didn't feel was guilty as she let herself into the apartment. She had been amply punished for her sins, she thought, and she could look Joe in the face.
He was up, fixing himself a late lunch, and he looked at her in surprise. He wore only pants and was bare-footed.
"What the hell are you doing home?" he asked.
"I didn't feel good," she said.
"I don't feel good, either," Joe replied, his tone softening. "Hell, I'm sorry about last night."
He tried to embrace her, but she shrugged him off. It wasn't that she didn't wish to make up with him, but she had to get on some underwear before he discovered she was without any and started asking embarrassing questions.
She hurried into the bedroom, shut the door, and quickly pulled on panties. She lowered the top of her dress and donned a bra. She had just fastened up when Joe opened the bedroom door and contritely entered.
"I don't blame you for being mad at me," he said. "I guess I acted like a bastard last night, saying I thought you might let Farris fuck you."
"Let's forget it, shall we?"
He grinned. "You bet! I'm ready."
He took her into his arms, and they kissed. Teresa slowly drew away when she felt his cock harden.
"I really don't feel good," she said. "Let's postpone it until tonight."
"But, damn it, I'll be on the road!" Joe replied. "Have you forgotten they've got me on the night run?"
"Ooh."
As if on cue, the telephone rang, and Joe walked to the living room to answer it, Teresa following.
"Yeah?" he growled into the receiver. "Oh hello, Harv."
It was the trucking company's dispatcher. Teresa tensed.
"No shit?" Joe said. "I can go back on days?" He grinned at Teresa. "Well thanks, man. Yeah-damn right, I dig it! See you in the morning."
He hung up and looked at Teresa. Suddenly the smile faded from his face.
"You knew they were going to put me back on days!" he said. "Did you talk to Farris after all?"
"Yes I did, Joe!" she said, lifting her head defiantly.
"Aaaw, shit!"
"You got what you wanted, didn't you?"
He kept staring at her. "Yeah, but I told you I wanted to work things out on my own."
"Everybody can use a little help now and then."
Joe's expression softened. "We'll forget about it this time. I don't want to start another fight."
Teresa relaxed.
"Farris was good about it, huh?" Joe asked. "He didn't demand anything from you."
"Of course not."
"Well, maybe I misjudged him. Want some lunch?" he asked, ambling back to the kitchen. "No. I ate."
She returned to the bedroom and stretched out on the bed. She wasn't sure just how she felt-about Joe, herself, or anything. She hoped he would leave her alone for awhile and give her a chance to work things out in her mind . . .
12
She didn't need a very long time to think, Teresa discovered that night, as she melted in her lover's warm embrace. It was just the same as always between Joe and herself.
She forgave him for not trusting her before, because-let's face it-his lack of trust had proved justified. But she had been "punished" for her weaknesses, which meant she and Joe had a fresh start, free from guilt.
In her mind, it all worked out quite neatly, and she wanted only to put it behind her.
She and Joe kissed and played and fucked.. . several times before morning. When she went off to work, he whistled happily. Teresa snuggled down into the covers to relax for an hour or so before she herself had to go to work. Everything was all right, she confidently concluded. Joe was her man, and she was his woman. She never wanted to fight with him again.
Dozing, naked beneath the covers, she felt warm and loved.
The front door of the apartment opened, and someone entered. He called, "Where are you, babe?"
Teresa sat up with a start, her tits quivering.
"B-Ben.. . ? " she called, scarcely believing she had heard right.
But she had. "Still in bed?" he asked, entering the bedroom and smiling at her, as if he had just been down to the corner to buy a pack of cigarettes instead of being away for two months, without a word.
She stared at him, and he looked at her bare tits.
"Hellll.. . ! " he said, and chuckled. "That's the way I hoped to find you-in bed, butt-naked, and waiting for it."
He began to take off his clothes.
"No!" Teresa cried, and leaped up, titties shaking. She yanked a cover off the bed and held it in front of her. But Ben already had gotten a good look at her jugs and her pussy.
His cock poked through the fly of his boxer shorts to stand up, quivering, as he let his pants down. Just Teresa's age, he was skinny with an angular face. His eyes were dark and roguish below black brows, and he wore his straight hair moderately long.
It was his dick, however, which Teresa stared at. Though stiff, with a plump, attractive knob, it was short, compared to Joe's.
"I know I should have written you," he said. "But I didn't know what to say. I was drifting around, looking for a decent job. I couldn't find one, so I gave up on California. Guess I'll see what's going down here."
"Nothing's going down between you and me any more," Teresa said, still holding the sheet to conceal her naked body.
"You're my wife."
"Not for long! I want a divorce."
"What's this shit? You got another guy?"
"That's none of your business!" Teresa said, her eyes flashing. "I just want you to get out of here!"
"Now, baby, you know you just need a little persuading . . . and I've got the old persuader all ready," he said, grinning as he gripped his short but rigid cock.
"I told you to get out!" she said.
"Okay . . . I'm sorry for not writing you. You've got a right to be mad. But we can pick up where we left off." He was approaching her in just his shorts, with his prong sticking out of them.
Teresa panicked. Clutching the sheet about her, she made a break for the door. Ben tried to stop her, but was able only to grab the sheet, whipping it away from her body. She ran into the living room, tits bouncing.
Ben was after her, his protruding prick pointing the way.
She chickened out. She couldn't run from the apartment in just her birthday clothes.
Ben caught her by an arm and swung her around, sending her plunging toward the couch. She tumbled onto it, her shapely buttocks vibrating. Ben sprang atop her.
"Now you're gonna get it!" he said. "You're my wife, and I'm gonna remind you what that means!"
Joe! she thought. I don't want to do this! I really don't!
But she was powerless to protect herself from her husband's vicious attack, short of screaming and attracting the neighbors or the police, which would cause a scandal.
Ben backed up, straddling her legs so that she was still held in place, but with her bottom exposed. He gazed at her wriggling asscheeks as she tried unsuccessfully to squirm away. Then he raised his right hand and brought it down against both writhing, supple mounds, slapping them with a noisy Spat! Her buttocks jiggled, and Teresa jerked.
Ben swung both hands, alternating left and right, and bounced his wife's quivery asscheeks against each other, causing them to vibrate erotically and to burn. This was a stronger spanking than Farris had given her. Ben was really blistering her bottom!
She hated him: She wished she could get at him with her clawing hands or kicking legs. But pinned on her belly as she was, that was impossible. She could only claw handfuls of the sofa fabric and wiggle her legs against Ben's buttocks as he sat on them.
He spanked her until her bottom bore rosy swatches and felt as if it were on fire. Then he rose and rolled her onto her back. The fight had gone out of her by that time, and she was crying.
Ben spread her legs wide apart, got between them, and wallowed atop her body. Her tits were like inflated air pillows beneath his hairy, ticklish chest as he ground his mouth against hers, forcing her to accept his tongue-spearing kiss. His hands ran between their bodies, surrounding her boobs, and he raised to watch himself squeeze and roll her magnificent springy-firm globes.
"I've missed these tits of yours!" he said, and bent to suck her nipples, biting them painfully and stretching them up to let them snap back.
Teresa moaned and squirmed. Tears clouded her eyes. Despite herself, she was beginning to feel a passionate response, and that was the worst part. She had sworn she would never again share passion with a man other than Joe.
Ben's cock stuck up above the clump of hair at the base of her belly, and she knew it was just a matter of moments before he would drive that stake into her, demonstrating that he still had husbandly rights.
She didn't want him to . . . and yet.. .
He backed up slightly, tilted his prick down, and hunched forward, splitting the hair-fringed outer lips of her cunt. Because she was well-greased inside with Joe's cum, Ben's cock glided easily into her. He seemed surprised when he suddenly found himself fully lodged within her belly, on a single thrust.
"You see?" he said. "You do want it!"
"I don't! I don't!" Teresa cried. But he was already fucking her, and there was nothing she could do but accept the rapid, bone-jarring jabs, which made her tits shake up and down.
"Oooh, Ben . . . Bennnn . . . damn ittt!" she cried, and squirmed, attempting to demonstrate her wish to get out from under him. The effect, however, was to wiggle her wet, warm pussy around his stroking rod, and to give him even more stimulation so that he increased the pace of his already rapid-fire screwing.
Having enjoyed herself so much with Joe-and other competent love makers-in recent days, she had forgotten what a jackrabbit Ben was. She had just begun to surge, against her will, toward a climax when he twitched and spurted, sending his hot, liquid bullets deep into the center of her body.
"Oooooh, you.. . ! " she moaned, quivering with unsatisfied passion which she hadn't wanted to feel.
Ben pulled out almost immediately and stood up, his cock wet and gleaming as it sagged.
Teresa lunged at him. Not thinking about what she was doing-not wanting to believe it-she lifted his slimy, strong-smelling penis and began to lick it crazily.
"Heyyyyy!" Ben said, startled. "What the hell!"
Teresa took his filthy cock in her mouth and sucked heatedly on it, making a sensuous, hungry sound in her throat.
Ben pulled back, and his still-limber penis whipped free.
"Where did you learn that whore-trick?" he demanded.
"What?" She gazed up at him blearily.
"Sucking my goddamned cock!" he said. "That's the nastiest thing a woman can do!"
"I . . . I . . . "
"You must've been with another guy-maybe a whole bunch of 'em!" Ben accused.
"Just get out of here!" she cried. "I don't want you any more!"
"Are you living with somebody else? Is that it?"
Ben strode into the bedroom and to the closet, his soft penis nodding as it hung out of his shorts. Teresa heard him roll the closet door open.
"I knew it!" he yelled. "There's a guy's clothes in here!"
Teresa was still cowering on the sofa when Ben returned to her.
"Who is he, huh?" Ben demanded. "Where can I find him?"
"Oooh, pleeeeease! Just leave me alone!"
Ben grasped her by the hair, hurting her scalp, and slapped her hard across the face. Pain seared her. Her brain went woozy as she screamed. Ben slapped her again, let her go, and she sank into a sobbing heap.
She didn't see him get dressed, but she heard him leave the apartment.
He would be back, she knew. She couldn't face more of his abuse and condemnation. And when Joe came home-what would happen?
It was a hopeless situation, Teresa felt, and the only thing she could think of doing was to run.
She got up and quickly packed, sniffling and trembling. She cleansed herself and got dressed. Since she had no car of her own, she called a taxi.
Thanking God that she had a little money set aside, she asked to be taken to a downtown hotel. She didn't leave a note for Joe. What was there to say?
13
Tired after a long run, Joe returned to the company office that afternoon and was surprised to find Teresa's desk unoccupied.
"I guess yesterday was too much for her," one of the other girls remarked, in response to Joe's questioning glance.
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, nothing."
The girls looked at one another, and Joe knew something had been going on which he should be aware of.
"She didn't come in at all today?" he asked, feeling foolish, because he lived with the girl and ought to know whether she was working or staying home.
"We haven't seen her," was the response, and Joe got the clear impression that no further information would be provided.
Troubled, he checked out and walked to his car.
Yesterday wax Uto much for her? What did that mean? What had happened yesterday? Teresa had come home early, saying she didn't feel well, but she hadn't indicated anything special had happened. Also, she seemed to have recovered fully by last night.
Joe parked in front of the apartment house, deciding to put his car away later, and he hurried to the apartment which he had been sharing with Teresa for the last week or so. He opened the door, walked in, and stopped dead in his tracks.
He was staring into the muzzle of a Saturday night special, held by a skinny young guy who sat facing the door.
"What the fuck!" Joe said.
"So you're the son of a bitch!" Ben replied. "I oughta put one through you."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Joe demanded. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm Ben Modley."
"Oh-oh," Joe said softly, then immediately recovered his poise. "Well, so what? Your wife's going to divorce you. She's my woman now, and we're living together."
"Not any more you ain't!" Ben snapped, and indicated the pile of Joe's personal belongings at the side of the room. Joe hadn't noticed them earlier because his attention had been dominated by the small, ugly revolver, which was still pointed at him. "Pick up your stuff and get outa here!" Ben ordered. "I don't want to see you come back."
It seemed to Joe that his whole world was crumbling, and he couldn't understand it.
"Where's Teresa?" he demanded.
Ben slowly stood up. "Man, you don't hear so good, do you? I said to split!" He raised the gun higher and pointed it directly at Joe's face. "I'd have every right to pull this trigger, because you got no right in my apartment.. . or with my wife!"
Joe flicked his eyes toward the bedroom and noted that the door was shut. "I want to see Teresa," he said. "I want to hear it from her."
Ben tensed, and Joe moved just in time, dropping to a crouch and swinging his left arm upward. The gun went off, and he heard the bullet zip past his head as he knocked the gun from Ben's hand. He drove a straight right into the skinny man's belly, which he followed with a vicious left hook to the jaw. Ben stumbled backward and fell to the floor, unconscious.
Joe picked up the gun and jammed it into his belt. He strode to the bedroom, having a sick premonition that he might find Teresa's bloody body stretched out on the bed. Two-timing husbands with guns were dangerous as Ben already had proved.
But-thank God!-the bedroom was deserted, and an inspection of the closet revealed that Teresa's clothes were gone. If she had split, was she running from her husband or from him, Joe wondered. And what if Ben had done her in after all, then had disposed of her clothes?
Joe returned to the living room, grabbed hold of the other man's hair, and slapped him across the face. Ben groaned, and his eyes popped open.
"Where is she, you asshole?" Joe demanded.
"I don't know.. . ! " Ben growled. "She was gone when I came back tonight."
"So you were here before! When was that?"
"This morning. Man, give me my gun back!"
"In a pig's ass!"
Joe turned and strode from the apartment, not bothering with his belongings. That was the least of his concern right then. If Ben had told the truth--and he hadn't acted like a man who was lying-Teresa was confused and frightened. She needed him, Joe believed.
Where to find her? That was the problem.
More pressing, however, was the need to get away from the apartment house. The neighbors had to have heard the gunshot, and the cops were most likely on their way.
Joe hurried out through the front of the building, jumped into his car, and took off. He drove aimlessly through the evening streets.
Teresa might be anywhere. She might have left town, or she might be staying with a girlfriend. Perhaps she was in a hotel, but ut would take forever to check them all.
The apartment was their only link, and Joe drifted back to it, after giving the police plenty of time to have come and gone. Cruising up the street, he did a double-take when he noticed Buck's garishly painted van parked in front of the building.
What the hell is that son of a bitch doing here? he wondered, made a quick U-turn, and parked behind the pussy-wagon.
Buck emerged from the building just as Joe was getting out of his car.
"Why ain't you working?" the beefy trucker demanded.
"They transferred me back to days," Joe said, "if it's any of your fucking business! What are you doing here? That's what I want to know!"
T came to see Teresa, but she ain't home," Buck declared. "I've got as much right to her as you have."
"Man, I thought we settled that a long time ago--when you were trying to feel her up in the company lot that day."
"Shit!" Buck sneered. "I've had her a couple of times since then. She's a damned good screw! I don't blame you for shacking up with her. But I'll tell you something, man-she'll put out for anybody. Ask Farris and that snot-nosed kid of his. She's probably out with one of them right now!"
Joe stared. His first impulse was to bash Buck's head in. But what if the bastard was telling the truth? He had spoken with greater than usual assurance.
"If you don't believe me," Buck said, "ask around the company. It's the talk of the office!"
Joe turned and shaken, walked back to his car. If Buck were lying, he wouldn't have said what he just did. And Joe wouldn't have gotten the funny looks and strange remarks he had encountered at the office that day.
Teresa was a slut, he sadly concluded. And she had taken him in completely. When Ben had come back things had gotten too hot, and she had split the scene, walking out on everybody.
Joe would never see her again, he believed.
Well, good riddance!
He decided to get drunk . . .
In the early hours of the next morning, he found himself with the Willoughby sisters-Cindylou and Sharon-in their mid-town apartment. Both blondes, and real ones at that, he had partied with them before. They seemed glad to find he was back in circulation, drunk or sober.
They offered all he needed-cunt and plenty of it.
Nude, the three rolled on the girls' king-sized water bed, and his cock was up. It seemed a contest between the two titsy females as to which was going to make use of him first.
But Joe didn't want to be used. He wanted to do the using.
He pressed both girls into a kneeling position on the bed, with their asses up, and knelt behind them. They giggled and submitted, being just as drunk as he.
He speared into the blonde-fringed pussy on the left, finding it slippery-slick from the foreplay in which the threesome had engaged. His prick socked solidly into Cindylou's welcoming crevice, and his straight belly slapped her bouncy buttocks.
"Oooh, fuck me, Daddy!" she cried. "Make me know it!"
"Hey, I want some, too!" Sharon pleaded as she waggled her lush bottom next to that of her sister.
Joe gave Cindylou several deep-fucking strokes of his 8-inch rod, then pulled the gleaming wet piston out and transferred it to Sharon's equally well-prepared twat. He pumped in and out of her revolving and rippling pussy as she moaned.
He went back and forth, back and forth, fucking both girls at the same time, but frustrating both of them because he didn't stay with either long enough to work them up to fever pitch.
Finally they whirled around and swarmed over him, pushing him onto his back. Though he had wanted to remain in a dominant position, he found himself smothered by soft female flesh as Cindylou scrambled forward to straddle his face and her sister squatted astride his bristling loins.
He had nothing to say about it as Cindylou's fragrant, wet cunt plopped soggily against his mouth and his dick was surrounded by Sharon's man-loving snatch. He bucked and squirmed, jabbing upward into Sharon's pussy while his tongue slithered into the meaty feast Cindylou provided.
The water bed rolled beneath his undulating body as he ate cunt and had his prick blissfully massaged by pussy flesh at the same time. He reached up blindly and grasped Cindylou's tits.
If anything could take his mind off Teresa, it was the superabundance of female flesh which now pressed down and around him, offering him all the pleasure and satisfaction a man could ask for. For awhile, it seemed to fill the bill. His prick throbbed in Sharon's very active cuntal embrace while he slurped down Cindylou's honey. His tongue flew across her clit and stuffed itself up her slick fuck hole. Sharon bounced merrily on his wicked prong.
Both girls came at the same time. Cindylou's pussy spasmed against his face, sending a rich flood of girl juice rolling down his tongue and into his gulping throat. Sharon's cunt wrung his dick, trying to milk spurts of jism up from his churning balls.
He shot. But he knew at that moment he was not getting the satisfaction he craved. The pussy which spasmed around his cock was not Teresa's. The sweet cunt which pressed against his mouth wasn't hers, either.
He pushed the girls off and sat up.
"Wh-what's the matter?" Cindylou asked as she lay on her back with her legs in the air, inviting him to take a plunge between them before his cock got soft.
Sharon lay near the foot of the bed, also ready for more fun and games.
Joe said nothing as he pulled his clothes on. He had turned into a one-woman man, it seemed, and it was his sad misfortune that his woman was the town's biggest tramp.
He strode from the apartment without so much as a word to the girls who had entertained him, and he heard Cindylou say:
"What's the matter with him, anyway? He sure didn't used to be like this."
"Yesh, he's changed, all right," he sister replied. "I'll bet he's got another woman on his mind."
Joe thought, If only that wasn't true.
14
He didn't show up at the trucking office for his early shift the next day. He waited until he was sure Farris would be in.
Joe marched into the boss's office without knocking, and Farris looked up from his desk with a scowl.
"What's the idea of coming in late?" he demanded. "We had to assign your run to somebody else."
"I don't give a shit!" Joe said. "I'm quitting, anyhow!"
"Yeah? Why?"
Joe reached across the desk, grasped Farris by the front of his shirt, and yanked him out of his chair. His eyes bugged as Joe hauled him forward onto the desk.
"Where's Teresa staying?" Joe demanded. "I know she must've called in, 'cause she's got a check coming."
"Take your . . . hands off me . . . ! " Farris said, nearly choking as he clawed at Joe's grip on his collar. Redness suffused his cheeks, behind his neatly trimmed beard.
'Tell me what I want to know," Joe said angrily, "or I'll smash your silly face to a pulp!" He cocked his fist.
"All right! She's at the Oasis Hotel!"
Joe's fist struck anyway, and he let go of Farris's collar at the same time. The trucking manager slid along the desk and dropped off the far edge of it, landing in a heap.
Joe heard a sound from behind him and whirled as Buck charged into the office. He had been outside, picking up the papers for his run, and evidently had heard Joe's squabble with Farris through the open door. He was coming to the boss's aid, obviously interested in making points.
Joe let him make his rush and quickly stepped aside. The bulkier, less agile man, plunged forward across Farris's desk. Joe grasped him by a shoulder, flopped him over, and smashed a fist to his face. Groaning pain, Buck raised a boot to ram it into Joe's groin. But again Joe was quicker, planting his own boot painfully in the big man's crotch.
That put Buck out of action.
Farris cowered at the far side of his desk, peeping fearfully over the edge.
Joe turned and strode from the office . . .
In her room at the Oasis Hotel, Teresa rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. She had lain awake for most of the night, missing Joe and wondering how her life had gotten to be such a jumble. When she finally had fallen asleep, it was nearly dawn; then she had slept late.
She had wanted to get an early start at job-hunting, but her fine resolve had been dashed. She didn't feel like looking for work, though she knew she would have to find a job. All she could think about was Joe and how circumstances had seemed to conspire against them.
By this time he must have found out all about her, she thought shamefully. The gossip was too juicy for the office snitches to keep it to themselves, particularly now that she no longer worked for the company. Joe undoubtedly believed the worst of her and probably would never take her back, even if she could get up the nerve to return.
Anyway, she was still married. And Ben was in town.
She certainly would not go back to him, she vowed.
She got up and walked to the bathroom, the protuberances on her chest bobbing springily. She sat down on the John and peed.
She took a warm shower, which was calculated to soothe her nerves, but it had no such effect. Her handling and stroking of her soapy tits . . . and her cleansing of the rose-petal lips of her pussy.. . made her all the more tense and frustrated, without her lover.
She stepped out of the shower and toweled herself briskly.
Naked she stepped into the other room and stopped still, thrilling. Joe sat and stared at her lush nakedness, which glowed.
"How . . . how did you find me?" she asked in a small voice.
He didn't smile. "I beat the information out of Farris," he said. "I also kicked Buck in the balls. It'll be a little while before he's in shape to make out with another chick."
"Joe . . . ! " she murmured, staring at him.
"As for your husband," he went on, "he pulled a gun on me, so I had to work him over, too." Joe opened his jacket. "I've got the gun now," he said unnecessarily, as Teresa gazed at it.
"I . . . I'm sorry for everything."
"Shit!"
"If you can't forgive me," Teresa said, "why did you bother to look me up?"
"Because you're in my blood, and I've got to do something about that. You know what I need? To see you with another man-to watch him fucking you-and to watch you getting off! That'll cure me, I figure."
"Joe! I don't want another man! I never did!"
Teresa went to him, but he leaped up and grasped her by the shoulders, holding her off. Her tits quivered up and down.
"Please.. . ! " she begged. "I'll make it up to you!"
"Bullshit!" Joe snarled. "There's no way you can do that! You screwed Buck twice, he told me, and you let Farris get at you, too. You even gave it to his goddamned son! Right?"
"Ooh, Joe, please! I didn't mean to do any of those things! They just happened! Maybe I'm weak, but you're the only man I want! You've got to believe that!"
"I'll believe it if you can take on a guy while I'm watching and not have an orgasm! But I know you can't. When I see you cumming with another man-having your cookies crumbled-then I'll get you out of my system at last! Come on-get a dress on. We're going out!"
"But, Joe, I don't want another man!"
"Not now, maybe. But the first time I'm not around, you will. That hot cunt of yours just has to be pronged all the time, doesn't it, or you're not happy! Now I know why your husband ran off."
"Joe! Please! That's not fair!"
"Horse shit! Put a dress on!"
"I.. . I won't go out." She walked to the bed and lay down. "I just want to stay here."
She opened her tilted thighs teasingly, letting Joe have a glimpse of her hair-edged, damply gleaning cunt.
"Slut!" he cried. "Okay, stay there. I'll be back."
He turned and stormed from the room.
Teresa's heart pounded. She feared what Joe had in mind. Would he return with another man and make her accept him? If so, she would die.
But she couldn't just get up and run away again, not after she and Joe had been reunited. She wanted him desperately. The fact that he had come after her made her believe he still wanted her, also, and would continue to do so, despite what he had said.
She tried to still her apprehension. Joe wouldn't really make good on his threat to turn her over to another man, she decided. He loved her too much for that. He would walk around the block a few times while his temper cooled off . . . and while his balls heated up as he thought of how she looked, lying naked on the bed. Then he would come back and fuck her.. . and everything would be all right. They would move into a new apartment, and she would file for divorce, serving Ben with the papers before he left town.
The door opened, and Joe entered the room.
"Darling!" Teresa cried, sitting up. "I knew you'd come back alone!"
He stepped aside, and a uniformed bellboy entered the room after him. The fellow was freckle-faced and in his teens, trim and handsome.
"Gosh!" he said as he gazed at Teresa's lush nudity.
"Go get her!" Joe rasped, finding them the most difficult words he had ever uttered. "Remember, there's twenty bucks in it for you, besides the fun."
"Joe!" Teresa cried, holding an arm in front of her tits and pressing the other hand to her furry loins. "You can't do this!"
"Don't make a fuss," he warned, "or I'll walk out right now, and the kid gets his twenty bucks, anyway."
Teresa lay back, the blood rushing through her veins. Her only hope, it seemed, was to go through with the bizarre test.. . and to pass it! Joe had said he would believe she wanted him and him alone if she could resist having an orgasm while another man screwed her.
She ought to be able to manage it, she thought. Hadn't she failed to climax when Ben had taken her yesterday morning?
But because of that, and because of her desire for
Joe, she was more keyed-up than usual. It would be difficult to hold off today, she realized, especially with a strong and handsome youth like the freckle-faced bellhop.
Obviously nervous, but wanting to make the twenty dollars-as well as the beautiful hotel guest-the boy began to take off his uniform.
Joe sat in a chair to watch.
Teresa resolved not to look at him. And she resolved, several times over, to feel nothing when the teenager slipped his cock into her body. She could control herself if she tried hard enough, she believed. Everything depended on it.
When the boy removed his underwear, his cock hung limply, and Teresa was surprised. Wasn't she lying totally nude in front of him?
But he was nervous, and no doubt that accounted for it. Also, Joe was there. Perhaps the kid had never screwed in front of anyone before.
He fidgeted as he stood next to the bed, looking down at Teresa. His face was rosy. His penis remained soft.
"Let her suck it for you," Joe told him. "Stand next to her head."
"Joe . . . please!" Teresa begged. "Don't make me do that while you watch!"
"Suck his goddamned dick!" Joe demanded in a harsh tone.
The bellboy moved forward along the edge of the bed, his eyes reflecting eagerness even though his cock remained uncommitted. He stood within reach of Teresa and waited.
Slowly . . . numbly . . . she reached out and took hold of his penis. She felt a tremor pass through him. She leaned closer, parted her lips, and her pink tongue came out.
The boy looked down, watching. Joe watched, also, as his lover's tongue touched the lip of foreskin which softly encircled the bellboy's glans. She licked the sensitive edge of skin, tasting his tangy maleness. She told herself that she mustn't get aroused, and swiped her tongue across his exposed tip of pecker.
The lad jumped again. His stem began tensing in Teresa's grasp.
Plunging resolutely forward, she rolled his foreskin back and breathed in the scent of his faintly moist glans which emerged pink from its snug hood. She licked the slitted tip once again and swiped her tongue wetly around the flavorful bulb.
The fellow's glans swelled, his shaft stiffening in her hand. She let go of his pecker, and the organ pointed at her of its own accord. She fitted her pursed lips to the end of it, and the boy gave a gasp as she glidingly encompassed his entire cockhead with her mouth. She sucked.
Joe's prick grew hard in his pants as he watched. He couldn't prevent the automatic response, hurt and angry though he was.
Teresa shut her eyes and glided her o-shaped lips claspingly up and down on the boy's barber pole. She caressed his lightly fuzzed balls.
"Wowww . . . ! " he husked. 'That feels so . . . g-great!"
He began stroking his cock between the pretty woman's lips, watching them claim his entire six inches with rhythmic plunges. Her tits shook. Her mouth was damp and warm.
Teresa's senses swirled as she sucked the boy's cock. She liked it, and there was no way she could avoid getting excited. Her best hope, it suddenly occurred to her, was to bring him off with her mouth, so that he wouldn't have a chance to stick his cock into her cunt. Then, being nervous and all, perhaps he wouldn't be able to get hard again, she hoped.
She began to pump her mouth rapidly on his dong. He squirmed and rocked forward and back, fucking her beautiful face.
Joe rubbed himself through his pants.
"Aaaahhhrgh!" the bellboy suddenly rasped, and pulled free of Teresa's mouth.
His prick jerked and spurted, blasting thick, creamy cum into her face. She happily took it, believing she had passed the test. She even clutched the youth's cock and stroked it, making him shoot more and more-against her nose and lips and closed eyelids, until she had a face full of his musky-scented, warm, slimy sperm.
Finally his penis softened in her hand, and she let it drop, as jism dangled from the tip of her nose and off her lips and chin.
"Get down on the bed with her, kid!" Joe yelled. "You aren't through yet!"
"Oooh, God!" she groaned. "Pleeeease! Don't make me do any more!" She was using a corner of the bedsheet to wipe the mess off her face.
"Baby, you've just started!" Joe said, and stood up.
When Teresa opened her eyes, she couldn't help noticing that his pants were pushed out of shape.
The bellboy clambered onto the bed and stretched out next to her.
"Tongue wash him!" Joe told Teresa. "Work all over his body! You've gotta get him up again!"
She was dismayed and offended. But she still loved Joe and needed him. She had to pass the test, difficult as he was making it for her!
She leaned over the youth and began to lick his nearly hairless chest. Her damp tongue probed at his small nipples, making them stiff. She licked down to his belly button and wiggled her tongue-tip into the crinkled indentation.
He groaned, and writhed. But his cock only flopped limply to and fro.
Oh, PLEASE don't get hard! she begged it. She never would have believed she'd be wishing for a man's lack of response.
Joe stood next to the bed, slowly rubbing the protrusion in his pants-front.
"Work right on down!" he ordered Teresa. "Lick the kid's cock and balls!"
Her reluctant tongue obeyed, foraging first through his boyish bush, then around the trunk of his flaccid penis. She licked onto his nuts.
The boy squirmed more actively.
Despite herself, Teresa got caught up once again in what she was doing, and she tongue-flogged his peter, enjoying the taste of jism which clung to it. She took his entire soft cock into her mouth and sucked, getting the full blast of rich male flavor.
She was hot all over.
She was grateful, however, that the boy's dick didn't yet get hard. "Roll over, kid!" Joe demanded. "Let her lick your ass!"
"Oooh, Joe, that's nasty!" she protested as the youth obeyed.
"Damned right! That's why I want you to do it. You're nasty! You're a fucking slut-so act like one!"
Teresa bowed and began to lick the boy's hairless buttocks. Perhaps she was a slut, she thought. Perhaps everything Joe had said about her was true, and perhaps she deserved the abuse he was heaping on her. But if she could just pass the test, and if he would take her back, everything would be all right.
She licked the bellboy's ass more avidly.
"Pull his butt-cheeks apart!" Joe directed. "Lick in between them!"
The young man quivered in anticipation, and Teresa tensed. This was quite the nastiest thing anyone had ever asked her to do. Still, she felt she deserved it. Yes, she really did!
She spread the boy's ass and stared at his small, tight anus.
Joe didn't have to repeat his order. With her heart beating wildly, Teresa bent her head, wedging her cheeks between the bellboy's buttocks. Her tongue was out, and it touched the boy's asshole like a sizzling brand.
He jumped, wobbling his buttocks against her face. She licked his anus and, surprisingly, thrilled when she tasted its acrid flavor. She wiggled her wet, strong tongue and thrilled more giddily as she broke through his sphincter. She shamefully licked into the clutching, rubbery ring of his asshole, tasting traces of shit.
She wasn't the only one who went wild. The boy squirmed and jerked. She reached underneath him while still slithering her tongue in and out of her ass, and she found that his cock had turned hard as a rock. He was able to fuck her now!
"Lie on your back, baby!" Joe said. "Spread out!
Let him get on top of you!"
Teresa flopped onto her back panting. The taste of the youth's shit-hole was still on her tongue, and she feared she might be sick. But at the moment, she was fantastically excited. She had been punished severely, she believed, and perhaps that was what she had wanted and needed all the while!
The bellboy mounted her.
When he drove his dick deep into her well-greased cunt, she squealed. She began to bob her hips right away, casting aside her resolution not to enjoy the fucking. She simply wasn't that strong.
Joe stood at the foot of the bed and pulled his stiff prick out of his pants. As he watched the bellboy's shaft stroke into Teresa's hair-ringed hole, taking the wet, gliding caress of her rosy love-lips, he stroked his up-thrust, quivering cock.
Teresa squirmed. Her pussy reached upward for every inch of the bellboy's rod and seemed to gulp at it, like a hungry mouth. Joe eyed her asshole, just an inch below the orifice that was being plugged-and, as he slowly stroked his hard cock, he realized he could forgive her. He would have to forgive her!
Her hips moved faster and faster, with abject, shameful abandon. Her tits shook against the bellboy's chest as he rode the pneumatic mounds, her nipples pricking him. He pricked her harder and harder, and her cunt made lubricious sounds as it suckingly gripped his stroking organ.
She gasped and writhed. She lifted her legs and locked them high over the bellboy's back.
She was surging toward a climax, she shamefully realized, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She loved Joe, but.. .
She came, jerking and moaning, and the bellboy emptied his gushing sperm into her demanding hole. Joe let go of his cock and let it stand high and quiver in mid-air while he watched Teresa convulse in the throes of orgasm, beating her heels against the bellboy's back.
She really deserved what he had wanted to do to her from the first moment he had seen her, Joe believed.
The bellboy pulled out of her still-sucking pussy and scrambled off the bed. Joe, making no attempt to hide his massive erection-which would have been impossible, anyway-fished into his trousers and brought out two ten-dollar bills. He gave them to the kid who quickly pulled his clothes on and was gone.
Teresa stared up at Joe, her eyes reflecting her shame. But she took heart at the sight of his amazingly huge and turgid hard-on. He still wanted her, his body was making clear. Perhaps, strangely, he wanted her more than ever, having watched her climax wildly around the bellboy's driving prick.
"Get onto your belly!" he ordered.
She became more excited than ever as she hissed, "Yesssss!" She obeyed.
Joe knelt on the bed between her splayed legs, and he pushed his pants down so as not to get them dirty. He grasped Teresa by the ass and boosted her backside into the air.
"Oooh, dar-linnnnng!" she groaned. "Yesss! Pleeeeease! DOOOOOOO it!"
Joe spread her supple buttocks and stared at her excited anus, which pulsated before his eyes, the puckers contracting and pouting spasmodically.
Joe spooned two fingers into her dripping cunt and brought out a copious amunt of goo, which he spread over his bulging cockhead. Then he parted her buttocks once again, and she held her breath, knowing he was ready for the brutal plunge.
She knew his big prick would really hurt her when it squeezed through the small aperture of her ass and sank deep into her rectum.. . but she had it coming! Oh, did she ever! She could hardly wait.. .
Joe's greasy knob pressed her converging puckers. Instead of tightening, they blossomed. Still, her anal orifice was too small to comfortably accept his fist-thick glans.
Comfort was what neither of them wanted.
Joe pushed forward, grinding his hard prick against her anus. She gasped. She cried out as her orifice spread painfully . . . and spread some more. Her asshole felt like a pit of fire as Joe slowly and forcefully inserted his thick, round-headed poker into it. He sank deeper and deeper-plunging and withdrawing, plunging and withdrawing-her rosy anal membrane rippling along his rod. She yelped and bawled. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Joe fucked her stretched, tightly gripping asshole and surged deep into her squishy, hot bowels. He stroked and stroked, his shaft taking on a slick coating of brown grease, until he finally twitched and spurted, gushing what seemed like gallons of thick sperm into her quaking ass.
She came wildly, her buttocks vibrating at each side of his deeply sunk rod.
"I love you, baby!" Joe groaned, as he lay forward, his softening tool still sunk in her ass.
"Oooh, I love you, Joe!" she said. "I love you so much!"
They both knew they would never be parted again . . .
15
Several years later, Joe rolled his rig to a stop in front of a neat suburban house and turned off the ignition. He hopped down, grinning as he thought about what lay in store for him inside.
Teresa had given him the signal that morning. She had lied, "The Muller Brush man is coming today, bit I don't have any money to pay for my order."
"You know how to pay him, baby," Joe had replied, giving her a pat on her bouncy bottom.
The kids were not home when Joe entered the house. He had known they wouldn't be. It was not even necessary for him to ask.
He let himself in and called, "I'm home, honey!"
Teresa entered the living room through the dinette, looking shame-faced.
"Well, did the brush man come?" Joe asked.
"Yes, he did."
"And did you take care of him."
"Ooooh yesssss, Joe!" she breathed. "And I feel so cheap!"
"Well, you know what has to happen now," he said, and turned her around. He gave her a slap on the buttocks, propelling her toward their bedroom.
Teresa's excitement mounted. She stopped next to the bed, and Joe reached forward at both sides of her, his large hands cupping her braless tits through her dress. He squeezed and rolled the resilient mounds, feeling her nipples prick up.
He unzipped her dress-front, brushed the garment off her shoulders and let it drop to pool at her feet. His eyes swept lustfully along the graceful curve of her back, to the elastic of her pink panties. The thin nylon embraced her buttocks beautifully. The lace-scalloped leg elastics of her briefs arched upward across her plump mounds. Her thighs gleamed full and bare above the expanded tops of her stockings, which were held up by garter straps.
Joe gave her a little shove, and she sank forward, rolling onto her back on the bed. Her rounded tits quivered to a stop, rosy nipples standing proudly at their crests. She steepled her knees and parted them a bit, so that her husband could see the narrow strip of pink nylon that passed between her legs, edged by curly little hairs.
He yanked up his soiled t-shirt, baring his muscular and hairy chest. He kicked off his boots. By the time he lowered his jeans, his cock sprang up, rigidly erect, the hood pulling partially back off his bulging pink glans.
He knelt astride Teresa's neck and dragged his heavy balls against her nose and mouth. Her nostrils flared, taking in the stimulating scent of his intimate perspiration. She licked his hairy nuts, bobbling them about, as his up-thrust cock waggled to and fro above her eyes.
After she had gotten a sufficiently satisfying taste of his sweat-drenched balls, he backed up a little and she wrapped a delicate hand around his massive cock. She rolled his foreskin back, releasing a gust of musky, male aroma which caused her nostrils to flare once more. She gazed at his swollen rosy knob, then tilted his love-stick down and pressed her puckered lips to the slightly moist tip of it. Her lips gradually parted, and she took his entire bulging knob into her mouth. She sucked heatedly on his cockhead, bathing it in her thick, slippery saliva.
She drew back, dropping her head to the pillow, and Joe's big prick flipped almost straight up, gleaming with the moisture she had deposited on it.
He dismounted, and his wife rolled onto her belly.
Joe pulled her pink panties down.
As she moaned softly and wriggled, he stretched her panties, turning them inside out as they slithered along her stockings and off. She spread her knees and lifted her ass, concavely bowing her back.
Joe took a moment to admire the billowing beauty of her backside, framed by her white garter straps and the stretched tops of her light-brown stockings. Then he pinched her buttocks apart.
The puckered dimple between her pale rear cheeks teased him by contracting and expanding. Suddenly he pushed forward, slamming his moist cockhead against her anal entrance, and she gasped.
"This will teach you to screw around with the brush man!" he said, and sank his big prick thrillingly up her ass.
It still hurt when he buggered her-and that was necessary to her enjoyment. But the pleasure of having her ass fucked, and being made to feel she was being punished, overcame what pain there was, and she bobbed her buttocks up and down, loving his turgid strokes in and out of her throbbing, clutching rear hole.
Joe watched his long cock sink deeply into her rectum, then withdraw, drawing her pink ass-flesh outward with it. In and out of her loving asshole he stroked, and he knew he had the most wonderful wife in the world.
She knew she had the most masterful, loving husband, as well. She couldn't have been happier, even while getting her ass screwed. Especially while getting her ass screwed!
She didn't need to fool around with other men. The talk about the brush salesman was just that--so much talk!
Joe fucked her gripping, rippling asshole faster and faster, feeling it draw at his prick, begging for him to spurt his thick, warm sperm into her rectum.
He leaned forward, over her back, and reached underneath her to clutch her tits. Squeezing the springy-soft mounds, he pumped his prick briskly between her quivering buttocks. When he felt the time was exactly right, he glided a hand down her belly to squeeze her clitoris . . . hard.
She came, moaning and bumping, shaking her buttocks at each side of his quivering, twitching rod, and he emptied the produce of his balls into her rectum.
"Ooooh, loverrrrr!" she purred, wiggling her ass around his deeply sunk cock. "You're the only man for me-the only man ever!"
"Just see you remember that!" he warned, and gave a final twitch in her rear. Then he pulled his prick from her asshole with a sucking Pop!
He knew she had meant what she said and that he had nothing to worry about. She knew she could look to him for all the satisfaction she craved.
Theirs was one of those rare which was frequently talked about but not often seen-a truly perfect marriage!
