"If marriage is to achieve its possibilities, husbands and wives must learn to understand that whatever the law may say, in their private lives they must be free." Thus wrote the late Lord Russell in his elucidated look at modern morality, Marriage and Morals.
Bertrand Russell means just exactly what he says, bitter as the lesson may be. He means that husbands and wives should not be mutual policemen, dictating the morality or direction of one another. He means, also, that so-called adultery, or extra-marital intercourse, should be tolerated, if not advisable under certain circumstances. Oh, Lord Russell does not advocate libertinism, as has been suggested by some of his critics who populate the lofty throne of moral guardianship. But he presents intellectually convincing, if emotionally abrasive, arguments for physical gratification through the biological and spiritual medium of sex.
The family, in Russell's considered opinion, existence for the sole purpose of bearing and rearing children. No relationship between two sane and consenting adults not intended to result in procreation should be marriage, he suggests rather sensibly.
We, in these modern-day United States, are products of conventional morality, morality concocted of the Pauline Doctrine, Protestantism, and a minor pinch of romanticism. If personal happiness is to be considered as a desirable goal for humans, then this debilitating melange of contradictory and unenlightened dogma should be re-evaluated and seen for what it's worth. The twentieth century presents any moderately intelligent human being with suitable histories that damn the very foundations of our morality, and a quick perusal of psychiatric journals will convince even the most obdurate of skeptics that our morality no longer fits the life-style of man.
Unfortunately, we trip over our emotions when we deal with so-called morality. And, for most of us, the thought of our wife or husband in the arms of a lover is acrid anathema. It's intolerable. Yet, the Double Standard seems to rear its ugly head. Many men are quite happy to enjoy the sweet caress of a strange woman. Yet they will roar like wounded elephants if they find that their wife has "deceived" them. And, of course, the same goes for women.
There is one forbidden aspect encountered in extra-marital relations, as Lord Russell rightly reveals. That is pregnancy. Instinct seems to prevent the whole-hearted acceptance of a child born to a wife by another man, strange and unfortunate as this contention seems to be.
Our rapid strides in humanitarian technology can prevent such pregnancies. The Pill.
Also, to further undermine the wicked and guilt-producing Double Standard, we see the Women's Liberation movement gathering some impetus. This is fortunate. World War One was, in America, most probably the greatest stimulus for the equalization of the sexes. Women left the farms to work in war-related industry. They achieved a measure of freedom from their parents, and thus responded, despite the Protestant Ethic prevalent at that time, as humans. In short, they began to recognize their sexuality.
It may shock some sheltered men, but women are sexy.
And that is the message of this novel by one of our friends, Barbra Bernardi. Miss Bernardi approaches the subject with a very sharp scalpel, a smile on her face. Pulling no punches, she lays bare the withered cadaver of the dead morality, exposes the silly Double Standard with almost brutal candor, and demonstrates the undeniable fact that women, too, have appropriate sets of responses to sexual stimulation. She rightly contends that women no longer will tolerate the image of sexual slave to, chattel to be manipulated by men, unpleasant as this blow to chauvinism may be to some.
CHAPTER ONE
The only thing that Fred and Shirley had in common was that they both loved Shirley. But Fred, being a man, liked other girls, especially all those annoying little girls who always seemed to trust him, to lean on him so luxuriantly, so softly, so warmly. He loved it and he hated it. Good Lord, who could justify an itching and burning erection about a twelve-year-old child, even if she did have twin mounds of soft, inviting breasts, lips like ripe sweet fruit ready to be sucked, nipped? glistening bright eyes that smoldered like coals? flaired hips subtly murmuring her coming womanhood?
Elaine Masterson spent her days and nights brooding about something that she just couldn't understand. Every time she was near this older man, the man who was building her parents' house, she could become moody. She had to be close to him, just had to touch him!
God, it was much more important than being with those acne-faced jerks from school! She had never succumbed to those almost irresistible advances of those nasty boys, but somehow she felt that if Fred were to touch her, she would melt like butter on hot popcorn. Her knees would shake uncontrollably whenever she was near him, and her stomach would burn and churn, the tight and narrow crotch band of her nylon underpants would become annoyingly moist, embarrassingly wet.
Unknown to Fred, his wife Shirley had an immense sexual appetite. She looked at him and thought about other men, about the men she had fucked, about those she intended to fuck, and about those that she might just happen to run into, perhaps in the produce section of the supermarket, chance encounters that might well prove to be jewels of warm, writhing, wet, sliding, erotic experiences. Her voracious pussy would burn wetly as she imagined the feeling of some alien man thrusting his purple-veined phallus desperately into the widely stretched labia of her cunt, sliding that throbbing member in and pulling it out, slamming it in, jerking it out, all the while smothering her with hot, passionate kisses, his hard hands grasping her sensitive, quivering, soft buttocks or breasts, kneading them sensuously.
She well knew the sensation of a strongly arched body wet and hot against hers, the feel of erotically aroused hands coursing over her body, the taste of alien saliva in her mouth, bathing her tongue as it played with some other. Oh God, how she craved the touch of a man, any man, but not Fred!
Her burning lust would shame the most liberal moralist, which Fred fancied he was. But she never told him how she just had to fuck every man she took a lusty interest in--after all, they had a nice family with three beautiful children, a beautiful house....
Ten years of marriage for Shirley and Fred had not mellowed either of them. In love at first, their love had gradually been replaced by a mutual hatred of Fred, who was successful in his own construction business, who drank entirely too much, who couldn't quite believe that his relationship with his wife had turned into such a horrible monster. He had no idea that Shirley was fucking around on him, deceiving him. Yet, he went about his business, and in it, he had many chances to meet women, alone, at any time of the day or night.
This feeling that Fred had made him accept the sultry glances of the various females he might happen to be with; he would interpret them correctly, but being naive, he regarded coitus with them as his conquests, not theirs. Common sense may have showed him that women were, after all, as sexually aggressive as any man, more so in many instances. But he preferred to believe that women were very virtuous, chaste, or at very least that they were true to their husbands, these notions salving his sagging ego. After all, his own wife detested him and made little effort to conceal the fact.
If some sexually aggressive woman took an interest in him, he quite naturally interpreted that as a proof of his worth, of his attractiveness, of his irresistibility as a sexy man. Almost thirty-two, Fred was busy and successful, unhappy with Shirley, drunk almost every night, and sexually frustrated. Oh, he fucked his share of women, but it amounted to nothing as far as he was concerned. After all, it was just a mechanical experience. He was seeking something of value, something of worth, something lasting. In the faces of all the women he would encounter, he would gaze, searching for some clue that would tell him that SHE was it, that he had finally found the person of his life. Certainly Shirley wasn't that person!
Shirley was not terribly happy about the fact that Fred worked from the house. His office was downstairs, occupying part of the ground floor of their hillside home in the most fashionable little cove of the city. She consistently tried to convince him to build an office building, and Fred seriously considered it, but business didn't indicate that such a move was smart, so he put it off, concentrating on his houses and apartment projects.
And the Masterson house was his current interest. The lakeside apartments were almost building themselves, but the new house was to be a winner, something that would undoubtedly attract national attention, bringing him recognition as a designer and builder. To him, this was necessary, so he spent many hours on detailing the blueprints, and many comfortable evenings discussing aspects of the house with Art and Liz Masterson, the clients. But after every meeting, on his way home, he would think about Elaine....
And, at the meetings, Elaine would sit silently in the corner of the family room, her breath fast and shallow, her knees pressed tightly together. She would weld her hot yet innocent gaze to the tall, tanned builder, wondering what her interest in him might be. He made her feel strange, vaguely unhappy, but whenever he would come, her heart would begin to race, to thump up in her ears until she could hardly stand it. An excitement would race through her, shocking her. This odd sensation had possessed her the very first time she had seen him, that day her parents stopped to look at a low, modern house overlooking the river. He was sawing and nailing, and when they had come up, he seemed to uncoil; when he smiled, Elaine's heart literally stopped, and she thought that she might wet her pants. She realized that he was easily old enough to be her father, but that didn't have any bearing on how she felt.
God, his face and smile, his tall and muscular body, his way of doing things all struck some responsive chord deep within her, making her want to be with him whenever she could. It gradually became the most important thing in the world to Elaine that this Fred build that new house for her parents, and she went out of her way to guide them into the big decision. When their decision was reached, it was like some huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders, but she still couldn't clearly realize why.
The new house was to be located on a wooded hillside only three blocks from their present place, about six blocks from Fred's.
The frost had just melted from the soil as the bulldozer very carefully scooped out the foundation excavation. Fred was there to watch, ensuring that the roots of the nearby black oaks weren't to be damaged, that the operator didn't go over the lines that had been painstakingly laid out. Everything had to be perfect. It was a warm Saturday, one of those glorious spring mornings, and the sun beat down hotly against his back. Suddenly he was aware of a close presence, and he turned to see who was standing by him.
Earlier that day, Elaine had awakened before light and had lain quietly on her back in bed, smiling warmly in the comfort of her own room, thinking. God, today he starts, she thought, squirming as she imagined being close to him, talking to him, getting to know him. Sure, lots of boys had told her that she was beautiful, but she was only thirteen, and hadn't taken any of them too seriously. Besides, that horrible experience in Cannes lingered in her mind, that time when she was coming home late from school, when her dad was working in France for two years.
A quick shudder of revulsion shot through her and she instantly forced herself to think once again about this wonderful new man, about the safety he represented, about how it might be if she were with him always. Her hand stole up to her already plump breasts and she began a slow, sinuous rotary motion, pressing those twin mounds of excited flesh down satisfyingly. God, how she wished that hand was HIS. Closing her eyes, she let her other hand move slowly over the smooth but tingling flesh of her thighs. A faint trace of a smile played on her blemish-free face. Red from the now-rising sun cast a warm glow in the room, and heat rose from the radiant coils running along the outside wall. Everything was so warm, so cozy, so intimate and comfortable. Her hands plied her eager flesh, quelling some unknown fires that were springing up in forbidden places. Oh, if only he were there to do that, to touch her like that, with his hard, masculine hands. Guilt welled up in her hotly.
What am I thinking? she asked herself chidingly. Could I ever let a man touch me? After what happened? God, no! But then why do I think about him so? What would I do if he were to put his arms around me, kiss me? What would I do?? ?
Her finger moved down through the sparse and now moist little thatch of coal black hair on her proudly bulging, hotly burning mound of Venus, and ventured into that little slit, approaching the itch that had sprung up down there. Her other palm pressed first one pink nipple and then the other in some instinctive attempt to stop that other itch. Guilt flooded her and she bit her lower lip, not at all able to stop the slow, undulating manipulations that she considered so obscene but yet so very necessary. Yes, she knew that it was forbidden masturbation, but an unbearable urge was upon her, hot and demanding.
Sex was not a big issue with the young Elaine, but ever since the first time she saw the builder, it had become a hot obsession, completely dominating her mind. Or her body. Her mind could only realize that this new man was doing something to her, without actually doing anything. He never touched her, except with his smiling green eyes. But that glance she intercepted made her burn and tingle inside, made her want to melt, to smile and cry, to run from the room or to run to him; it positively killed her! She knew that what she was feeling was wrong, depraved, unnatural, sinful, but she couldn't thrust the strong call of her body aside, try as she might. Her body was responding as it never had, just as a rose blossom opens at its time, blooms into a fullness of open beauty. Unfortunately for Elaine, she didn't think of it that way. Her church upbringing prevented it.
Yielding to the flesh was sinful. It was base and depraved, weak, something to be ashamed of. Yet, guilt and shame or no, her hands continued their soothing ministrations, moving sensuously over her smooth skin, arousing the dormant buds of her soft pink nipples to puckered erection, bringing the buzzing nub of her excited clitoris to a wet hardness, causing vaginal lubricating juices to seep deliciously through the ridging walls and down to the expectantly swollen labia of her burning and itching vulva. God, how she needed it! Her hands pressed harder, moved faster. "Fred," she moaned softly, her eyes closed, her tongue flicking across her full lips, "where are you now that I need you?"
Shamed, Elaine rolled over after her minor orgasm, and she went into the bathroom to shower, to wash the sin and shame from her still-quivering young body. In the bathroom she looked at herself. Her reflection in the full-length mirror revealed that she hadn't suffered any major physical harm as a result of her sins. On the contrary, she looked better, if anything. Her breasts were the first thing she examined, and they were larger, more feminine than she remembered them having been the day before. Her proud triangle of rich black pubic hair was more lusty, more dense. Traces of her sin glistened there, and she curled her lip irascibly, turning her attention to her thighs. They were full but not fat, well shaped, as were her calves. Elaine considered herself lucky; she knew that she had a good shape, was blessed with a good shape.
Her face bothered her, though. She thought that she was ugly, and hated her nose. It was too big, she thought, and hawk-like. And she thought that her face was too round.
Fred had noticed her. She had been the one. THE ONE. But Fred fought it. After all, a child. ... But he loved her face. True, it was round, and true, her nose was different, certainly not like that upturned little thing of Jean Shrimpton. But everything fit. Her lips were full above a rather smallish chin. Her cheeks were plump. Her eyes dominated, telling mystical, magical stories, promising hours delights, untold pleasures. They were black fire shooting delicious sparks of sensuous desire out at him, succulent messages that stimulated Fred in no uncertain way. When their gaze would break he would survey her body, that ripe and juicy young body that moved so like that of a jungle cat, so gracefully and yet with such feline liquidity. And now, turning, Fred saw those eyes again.
"Oh, hi, Elaine, How're you?"
She broke the glance and dropped her gaze, twisting her fingers self-consciously as though he could read her mind. "Fine, Mr. Carlson. How are you?" It was almost a whisper, but the bone-chilling timbre of her voice cut into him, making him think that she was a miracle, a dream, yet an unhappy girl, a girl who needed him as much as he needed her. Her whisper had a melancholy ring to it, one that stirred the protector in Fred, made him feel more like what he wanted to be.
But she was merely a child. Standing there, in a flash, he thought about the physical problems. Six-foot-three, he towered above her five-foot-four frame, and somehow he knew that it might work. God, those breasts of hers, heaving beneath the blue and yellow striped Gant button-down shirt! How he would like to cup them, hold them, open his mouth against hers in a hot kiss, their bodies naked and pressed hotly together in some unknown sanctuary. BUT NO! NO! It's forbidden! The law says eighteen, and she's thirteen! What could he do for five years?? ?
These thoughts went through his mind in less time than it takes for a flea to blink. Yet, his palms suddenly became moist in the crisp air, and his mouth simultaneously went dry. He coughed. A rush of embarrassment flushed him and he fished his pack of Camels from the pocket of his black and red checkered wool shirt. "Care for one?" he asked, half in jest.
The low, succulent murmur of her reply astounded him almost as much as the reply itself. "If you don't mind," she said.
Elaine didn't smoke. Oh, she had tried it, but didn't like it. But, being there with her idol, she felt some unconscious compulsion to take a cigarette, to share something with this man, to suck--to tell the truth. The gross realization would have made her faint!
Very uncomfortable now, Fred stuck two cigarettes into his mouth, lit them with his silver butane lighter, and pulled one from his not-lately-kissed lips, and handed it to her. Her cool fingers brushed his hand, electrifying him, stunning him, and he jerked away as though bitten by a snake. Then he laughed to cover his chagrin.
Elaine felt the tension. It was like some weird threads of tingling attraction were holding them together. She smiled and thanked him, covering her rout by taking a token puff from the symbolic gift. Her body was alive, lusty, burning to press against his in a hot embrace. Feelings like she was having there on the still-wet grass of that lot had never captured her, not even in her wildest fantasies. This was reality. This was the here and now for Elaine, and she was aware of it, prematurely, it could be argued. But her body knew. It knew what, or whom, it wanted. She fidgeted and then chanced a look up, was smote by his eyes, and she suddenly turned away, afraid that she would cry.
All this hit Fred quickly, and he shook his head as he inhaled a large charge of the strong tobacco. Shit, he thought, I'd really like to get my cock into her, but she's only a kid! But what a kid! They'd burn me at the stake--I'd be caught sure as shit! But his body was also responding. "What's the matter?" he asked.
It was Elaine's turn to shake her head now, but she couldn't talk. She shook her head again and again, torn inside, full and empty at the same time. Heat. She shook all over, and hot battalions of goose-pimples rushed over her skin, making her rub her arms and hug herself. Suddenly she felt the intense heat of his hand on her shoulder and her knees almost buckled; the only thing that kept her up was her spirit, which soared like an albatross. What bliss! He actually touched her. She melted into that touch, her stomach rushing up to bask in that comforting warmth. Is this the beginning of something new? she asked herself in blushing haste. Right then she would have died to wheel around and clasp him to her, to hold him, to feel his strong arms pressing her willing and eager body into his. She struggled, and her mind won out. No, can't do that--it's immoral, wrong, another sin, a weakness. But God, how she wanted to; even her rigidly tutored mind knew that!
The sun beat down. The bulldozer's husky bawl filled the air. The scent of fresh clay unearthed was rather like that of stockings worn for two days, or them plus the feet. A starling flew over.
Fred's glance met the eyes of the dozer operator and he looked away, at Elaine, his hand still warm on her warm shoulder. "Let's go for something to drink," he said, and released her, turning and striding quickly toward the steep-sided excavation. "Charlie," he yelled, "you've got it licked! We're taking off for a while. Bring 'er down to seven feet from the rear grade, exactly--okay?"
"Sure thing, Fred!" Charlie called, waving after throttling back. He sat like a fat cat on his yellow machine, grizzle from yesterday still on his full jowls. Nice guy and good operator, one who knew exactly what Fred Carlson demanded.
Fred's stomach jumped. Christ, he was committed! He was making a move on the thirteen-year-old and he realized it with stunning clarity. The realization made his pulse quicken, made his heart hammer in his chest until he could hear it. What a glorious day! Everything was simply perfect! The house was going to nestle into that hill, shrouded by the old, gnarled trees, looking as though it belonged there, had grown there like some mushroom of redwood and glass, topped by subtle pink granite chips on the low-pitched roof with broad eaves. And, there was the delicious Elaine, the most excellent little lady, standing there, obviously excited in that best of ways, sexually. Fred could smell it. She was ready, and he was. God knows, he was! His relationship with superbitch, his wife, had deteriorated, amazingly, going from worse to worstest, if possible.
Feeling a woman's body, devoid of love, seemed right enough to Fred, but he didn't realize that some women wanted him to feel them while they didn't feel anything but sexual desire. He was convinced that, if a woman wanted him, she was in love with him, mad about him, prepared to leave her husband, if need may be. Two exceptions to this mistaken notion didn't convince him, they downed him. Those two wives made him think that he was somehow inferior. He had made love to them consistently, and when he had proposed a split and elopement, they had demurred, stating that they just wanted to be amused, that he had been used. This hit him. But now, with the child, he felt the king, the loin, some Greek god indestructible. He felt that this was different, that this was IT.
But yet, he knew that she was jail-bait, San Quentin Quail, as they say. Eight years worth, in the cold, dank, gray routine of jail and pen. Carnal knowledge--what gross shit! The eyes tell all, and he knew it. Elaine's eyes blazed for him. They had from the first. He felt it in his guts. In his arms. His arms ached to hold her now for almost two months, through the intricate and elaborate negotiations. His mind had been swayed, bent by
Elaine's hot and sultry gaze; he had been mentally fucked by her and, as a result, had given the Mastersons the moon with a fence around it for less than cost. Shit, he could afford it; he desired Elaine.
Fuck her? No. Just see her. Be around her. He was afraid to do more than wrap his arm around her as an uncle might do. But deep inside he was burning for her, because he had gazed into the pools of her burning brown eyes--and he saw love and affection and warmth. He saw what he wanted to see, in short.
There was love in her eyes though, which is the odd part of it. Affection, desire, sex, the rest of it. She wanted him, without knowing it. She wanted him madly. She wanted him atop her, screwing her like a rough, hair-covered beast, fucking the living shit out of her, without knowing what it even meant, what it might feel like. This hot instinct ruled whenever she was near him. Her body would become weak, resilient, ready; her blood would turn hot and thick, slogging slowly through her veins like liquid fire; her pussy would become wet, her chest would ache. And now, now they were together, yes.
"Yes," she said as he returned, "Let's go and have something to drink." She was more ready for anything than ever before.
CHAPTER TWO
The same Saturday at the same time. "Hello, Karl?"
Karl Bach's breath caught on the other end of the line, and then a slow smile covered his smooth but somehow beetled face. He knew who it was instantly, and replied, "Hi, Shirley; how are you?" He knew how she was, despite the polite formality. She was sexy. But then, she was always sexy. Karl had known this for five years, and had taken advantage of that fact, gently following that first warm seduction, certainly a cooperative effort.
Karl was a banker and an ass-bandit of the first order. Very rich and very conservative in manner and dress, his mind keyed to two things and two things only: Money and Sex, but not necessarily in that order.
This man was one who had fucked a prostitute twice, while only inserting his rigid penis into her once. Dressed in his Army Reserve Lieutenant's uniform, he had succumbed to the sloe-eyed offer of a spike-heeled hooker in the city, and had followed her up to her tawdry little place of business, a grimy hotel room. Seemingly very generous, he peeled a hundred-dollar bill from the wad in his front pocket, and handed it to the thrilled young lady. Unthinking, she put it in the closet, under a hat box on the shelf. Karl smiled grimly, and then allowed himself to be undressed. They fucked, and Karl's mind was elsewhere since the girl was mechanical, uninventive, only superficially interested. Then, after he was spent, she went into the bathroom to douche. Karl dressed quickly, reached under that hatbox on the closet shelf, and pulled out about a hundred and fifty dollars. Pocketing it, he called his thanks into the bathroom and left, humming happily as he skipped down the steep stairway and strode, refreshed, out into the busy night atmosphere of the city.
His relationship with Carlson was one of cordiality and similar generosity. Carlson's banker, he would lend any amount Fred needed to finance something, knowing that he could know from Shirley if Fred was going to perform on the loan or not. He had no doubts about Carlson's ability or inclination to pay off, just as he had no doubts about Shirley's ability or inclination to put out.
So, the call was no mystery. He ran his hand over his head, raking his sparse, red-brown hair with his clean fingers.
And Shirley sat up in bed, comfortable against a bank of soft, down-filled pillows with green satin cases. A cup of coffee was sending up an aromatic plume of clear steam from a tray beside the bed. The kids were all glued to the television set in the family room, safely out of ear-shot. She smiled, her voracious cunt wet, her heart pounding slowly and steadily.
"Fred might be gone all day," is all she said, smiling dreamily.
"Be there in a flash," Karl crooned into the mouthpiece, his cock filling with hot, thick blood, his relaxed and wrinkled scrotum beginning to tighten in eager anticipation. He placed the receiver on the cradle and straightened his tie, smiling broadly now.
Bidding good-bye to his wife and kids, he strode briskly from his fashionable house and walked out to his blue Ford LTD, parked at the curb this morning because he couldn't get it into the garage late the night before. He couldn't even see the garage after the party he and his wife had been at.
Whistling and humming, he drove the five miles to Carlson's hillside house, pulled brazenly into the driveway, blocking it, and walked right into the house, waving at the mesmerized Carlson kids. In the bedroom, he felt warm, and closed the door.
"Well, good morning, Shirley," he said, turning to survey the cat-like woman lounging in bed, covered by a blue nylon negligee and luxurious satin and down of the large comforter.
She had an impish smile on her delicately beautiful face. Her pale skin was a complement to her finely sculpted features; in all she might have been the model for those artisans who conceived the cameo. Her brown hair worked well with her hazel eyes and sensuous lips, lips that were strange and somehow indicative of her gross sexuality. Men, looking at those lips, would consistently know that they were used for many things, many things indeed. And indeed they were, unbeknownst to Karl
Now they parted. "Quick, lover. Undress and come in and warm me up!" She wriggled lower into the warm comfort of the bed, her eyes almost closing. Now her pulse began to race as her body knew that she was going to receive the morning's satisfaction in her own bed, her husband's bed. Her hands roved sinuously over her smooth thighs, which parted instinctively as she anticipated the feeling of his hard, muscular body slipping over hers.
Karl undressed with calculated slowness, just as he did everything. He eyed the slender woman, thinking about her small breasts, her wide hips, her incredible smoothness. He hoped that she had brushed her teeth already this morning. Placing his clothes on Fred's clothing tree, he made no effort to conceal the bulge in his shorts. After all, that's what it was all about, his erection, her cunt, their mutual desire to get it together, to fornicate.
Looking at him, Shirley knew that he couldn't possibly be considered handsome, and yet he could have been a clothing model for some man's magazine. He had a lopsided attraction, was hard looking despite the fact that he led a sedentary life seated behind a very large desk. Balding a bit. Glasses with thick lenses, heavy bone rims and bows. Not unhandsome, but no Rock Hudson, either. Her eyes fell to his erection as he pushed his shorts down and bent. God, how she knew that penis, and how she loved it. It seemed to shoot sparks at the magical moment, triggering her own flashing orgasm at just the right second. Why can't Fred do that? she wondered. She had never had one orgasm with Fred, and she had often asked herself why. Because basically she didn't like him? That, she thought, might be it. Ten years of a hard marriage had destroyed any semblance of affection for him. She admired Fred, certainly, and tried to do her duty in the house and in bed, but her heart wasn't in it. Her own satisfaction came from forbidden trysts. AAAaaaahhhhhh, yes, somehow it was better if it was illicit, illegal, immoral. Shit, she silently mused, immoral? That's rare!
And this thing with Karl. Hadn't she been bedding him for five years now? She pondered. At least once a week. Five times fifty; maybe two hundred and fifty times or so. And always it was good. She never missed--excellent. His penis was no larger or thicker than Fred's, so size wasn't it. And he was certainly not as tall or good looking as Fred. The technique variations between the two were nil. Being honest with herself, she had to admit that Fred was more forceful, more aggressive, could hold out longer, pummel harder. Why, she continuously asked herself, why do I make it with strangers so well, and not with my own husband--that incredible ass-hole?
Now looking at Karl's rigid stalk of throbbing flesh, she had to swallow. God, she knew the taste of it, the smell, the feeling of that hot and spongy glans in her waiting mouth. She knew the deliciously exciting sensation of his tongue as it licked her bottom, tickling her crotch as it wetly rasped that sensitive area between her lubricating labia and tingling anus. Oh, the first time Karl darted his tongue into her ass-hole she almost fainted. All this came back to her in a flash, and she squirmed.
"Hurry," she called to the dawdling banker, who was carefully folding his shorts as though he had all the time in the world.
Karl hated to hurry at anything. Now, facing another bout with the incredibly nasty Shirley
Carlson, his excitement was building. It was the tease that he liked, both in loan arranging and in coitus. The tease, the build-up, the anticipation. Just jumping on, sticking it in, jabbing five times and shooting off, hell, that was no good. Wham, bam; thank you, ma'am--no, not for Karl Bach!
Knowing that she was about to explode, he deliberately took his good sweet time.
A slow smile crossed his closely-shaven face as he thought about the delicious aspect of this. Does Fred know? Of course he doesn't. What would he do if he knew? Probably kill both of us with his bare hands. Aw, come on now, he wouldn't, would he? That crazy bastard is liable to do anything, don't you know that? Well, to hell with it, then, let's have some fun. Yeah, let's--come over me the other way. MMMMmmmmmmmmmmmm. Yeeeaaaaaaahhhhhhh!
The dialogue running lightly through his mind, he slowly turned and gazed down at the squirming figure shrouded by the luxurious comforter. What treasures lay under there? He knew that hair-lined pair of lips, that smooth pair of inside thighs, that sweet and sour ass-hole, the feeling of her tongue doing wonderful things to his sensitive glans, to the itching shaft, to his nuts. God, that time when she took them into her mouth and slowly ground them until they exploded in a hot shower of steaming sperm! What a sight she was, hot sticky cum all over in her hair! He had laughed for three days after that.
"Damn it, Karl, HURRY!" she ordered irritatedly, hunching her slender shoulders. She frowned at him and wriggled over, pulling the covers down for him.
Glancing down at her, Karl saw that her negligee was already up over her hips, bunched at navel level. Her pussy-mound bulged out, graced by that triangle of curly brown hair that he loved to graze in. His penis twitched up as a wave of pure arousal flooded him. Her breasts were discernable under the filmy material of her garment. Small, they didn't stand out proudly any more, but they were soft and excellent little love handles that he knew she loved to have grasped and kneaded. Her nipples were responsive, soft until they were touched, rolled harshly, sucked, nipped. Getting her from behind, doggie-fashion, he would grab those hanging tits like they were hand-holds, almost rip them off. She loved it! And he'd slam into her. They'd both grunt and groan. Christ, that's the way to do it! Fuck her good and hard, sock it to her! Ream her!
He sat beside the wriggling and eager wife and reached over with his hand, caressing those breasts that were so soft under the sheer and somewhat raspy material of the nylon gown. "MMmmmmmmm," he hummed, "you're so nice and warm! Doesn't Fred satisfy you?"
She curled her shoulders forward and closed her eyes as thrills electrified her body at the touch of his hand. "Oooh, that ass-hole! You know that that creep couldn't satisfy me even if I convince myself that it's you --"
He smiled at this. Balm for his ego. "Do you imagine it's me when he screws you?" He grabbed one of her tits hard and pulled on it, then squeezed it back against her slender chest.
"Always," Shirley lied, thinking that she even imagined that Karl was some large, athletic Negro fucking her at times. Or Fred's father. Yes, that had happened too. Many times. Fred must never know. Or Fred's brother-in-law, his sister's husband, Charlie. Or his one-legged carpentry foreman, the man with the plastic leg, Emil.
Now it was the banker--again--and she reached up slowly and wrapped her fingers around his hot erection, pressing the very tip of his rubbery glans teasingly with her thumb. God, how she loved to stick the pointed tip of her tongue into that tiny slit, how she wished that she could get her tongue all the way into it! The taste of his maleness dizzied her, brought out some sleeping beast in her so thumpingly that she would almost lose sanity, so that she would be on the verge of screaming and bursting like some Fourth of July sky-rocket. Now she pulled the veiling foreskin back slowly, feeling the smooth, liquid-like friction of that skin as it slid over the hard and yet spongy meat of his shaft.
What a feeling. God, did she enjoy that sensation in her hand! She could feel the blood as it pumped through those ridged and curving veins. Aaaahhh, what a good dick you have there, Karl! She slid the skin all the way back and groaned as his hand moved into her negligee and caressed her burning breast again. "OOOOooooooooohhhhhhh, Gooooodddddddd, yeeeeessss!"
"He calls you 'Monkey-tits,' " Karl announced, thinking that her tits were on the small side, and thinking that Fred might not be too far from wrong. He wondered about fucking a monkey, and then he also wondered if monkeys had tits at all. He wanted to imagine that he was a monkey, or Casey, the gorilla, sitting there, about to miscegenate, degrade her, perhaps kill her with his cock. He wanted to be brutal, to make Shirley cry out. Try as he might, he had never succeeded in that, though. She would only cry out for more.
MORE! That's what Shirley was usually thinking when fucking. MORE! That's what she was thinking now. Her mind rejected anything that Fred might say about her. She had his number. Monkey-tits, indeed! He can go fuck himself! She began a slow humping motion with her pelvis, able to imagine that Karl was already fucking her, that her hand was actually her cunt, that his throbbing spear of hard meat was slowly sliding into the prepared wetness of her vagina, sending burning thrills shooting throughout her sex-hungry body.
As her hand slid his skin over the underlying flesh of his rock-hard penis, the sensation in her curled fingers and palm electrified her, made her heart race, made her breath come in short and jerky gasps of breathless arousal.
Pumping slowly, she could smell that pungent scent of his lubricating oils as they began to respond to the demanding call of her hand. Yes, she would bring him to the very verge, then she would suck that cock, take it into her mouth and run her tongue deliciously over that succulent knob, gnash it with her molars, suck those oils off, let them mingle lazily with her flowing saliva, cup his nuts, pump them, caress them, grind them together sensuously, and find his-haired buttocks with her other hand, sneak into that perspiration-wet crack, locate his ass-hole, slowly press her index finger against it and wait, yes wait--until she could feel the magic, the electricity. His and hers, that tingling and shocking sensation saying irresistibly that they were about to cum! And then, when the shock came, when she knew that his load of sperm was shooting up that tunnel on the underside of his bone-hard machine, she would plunge her finger into that tightly puckered anus, sending it all the way to the hilt, into the mushiness of his rectum. YES, FUCK HIM IN THE ASSHOLE!! ! BAM! As they would cum, she would be the man, perpetrating delirious anal sodomy on him!
Her hand began to move faster and harder up and down on his shaft, and she dug her finger under the foreskin as she bunched it forward as far as it could go. Her cunt was a seething cauldron of hot sexual hunger, and as she squeezed his ever-expanding penis into greater firmness, she inhaled the now strong aroma of his maleness.
"OOooooooooohhhhhhhh, Karl," she groaned, "will you be able to make it twice this morning?" She writhed, her breasts and pussy in flames of animal passion.
"MMmmmmmmm, sure thing, Shirley." Sure-lay, he was thinking. "Why do you ask?" he murmured, his stomach tight because of the great sensations she was causing in every tissue and cell of his responsive body. She was killing him, almost tearing his tightly-stretched skin from its moorings there on the underside of his itching glans.
"I want you to do something for me, something weird..."
"Sure thing," he replied from behind gritted teeth.
Shirley stopped her delirious ministrations and looked at him. "Let me squiggle down a bit, and you kneel over my face, all right? I want you to jack off over me and shoot on my face!"
"Aw, hell!" Karl grunted, disappointed, "that's no good! You suck me off, and I'll pull away and then shoot into your face."
"Come on, Karl. Do it my way and I'll let you stick it in my fanny like you like to do."
His cock jumped. Christ, what persuasion! She had a perfect ass-hole. Thinking about it was enough to make him jack off. "Oh, all right," he said, and pulled his hand out of her negligee, releasing her now-hot breast capped by its diamond-hard nipple. "You have to rim me, though, is that a deal? I'll sit on your face and you stick your tongue up me. That way I'll be sexy."
"A deal," Shirley said, throwing the covers aside and wriggling down. Her body was twitching and she had to breathe through her open mouth now to get enough air to survive. Wave after wave of pure, provocative pleasure crashed through her as Karl mounted her, his knees astride her shoulders. What a view! She looked up and saw the dark skin of his scrotum directly above her, and right behind that hairy and wrinkled sac was the hairy darkness of his now-moist ass-crack.
Reaching up, she spread his relaxed buttocks and spied that tightly puckered brown knot that was so damned sexy. Her saliva spurted from the tiny glands under her eager tongue. She gulped as he lowered himself. She could hear the almost metallic click-click-click of the skin on Karl's penis as he masturbated. The sharp aroma of his moist crotch wafted down to her, making her nostrils flare, her stomach absolutely burn. God, what a fantastically sexy experience! She could have wet the bed from sheer, unadulterated arousal. This was the way to sexual gratification!! !
Karl thought she was crazy, and he loved it. He slowly lowered himself onto her face, and he shivered with excitement as the hotness of her breath caressed his dangling nuts and eager anus. As her hands spread the cheeks of his ass he shook his head; he could never quite get over the great thrill of being tongued in the ass-hole by good old Monkey-tits! Then, lowering himself until he had captured her smooth face between his widely splayed buttocks, he let out a low groan.
"UUUUuuuuuu uuurrrrrrrrrgggggghhhhhh!!!!"
Shirley speared her tongue out and pressed it against the tasty and pungent elastic-like ring of his ass-hole, forcing it up as hard as she could. It yielded, and suddenly her tongue popped in. His hairy scrotum tickled her forehead maddeningly. She couldn't scratch the itch. Her tongue ached, and she pulled it out, savoring the flavor of what she collected. Saliva swirled through her mouth in a mad gush. She thrust her tongue back in.
Karl forced his way down harder, on the verge of an orgasm. The hot, wet tongue was making him faint, making him delirious with shots of indescribable pleasure. His stomach was a tight and hot knot of burning eroticism. God, the feeling of that tongue!! !
Dizzying waves of sexual arousal shook Shirley as she tongued Karl, fucking him in the ass-hole with her tongue as her nasal passages were filled with the scents of male genitals. The taste of his ass-hole was making her explode in flame like napalm bombs. God, she could have died from sheer sex right then. Huuuuurrrrrrrrryyyyyy, Karl! she silently cried, thrusting her tongue in and pulling it out as fast as she could. Looms of darkness hovered in the periphery of her waning consciousness, and suddenly a blast of cool, fresh air hit her, reviving her shockingly. She opened her eyes and saw the rose-colored knob of Karl's cock right before her eyes. She felt his weight as it settled on her splayed and burning tits. The tip was her focal point, that slit in the strainingly stretched knob of his poised penis. She was almost hypnotized by it, suspended in the delirious grasp of bizarre sexuality. God, she was cumming, and she thrust her hand roughly down onto her pussy just in time, spearing her crazily screaming clitoris just in the nick of time. BAM!
The hot spurts of white cum shot out at her, hit her on the lips, chin, nose, cheeks. She cried out.
"AAAAAaaaaaaahhhhhhhh, mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!! ! ! ! " Her tongue lashed out, her finger jabbed her clitoris, she bucked and gasped, her mind almost snapping away from. reality. The blast of cum tasted like oyster sauce mixed by a French chef, and she licked it from where she could reach it, savoring it as though it were the most delicious of meals. God. it struck some divine chord in her inner being, releasing things in her she could often forget were chained or hidden there. Flashes of electric pleasure filled her from her own weird orgasm, and she jerked spasmodically as jolt after intense jolt of sex's fulfillment possessed her.
Karl leaned forward, his stomach like steel, and pressed his cock against her face, smearing the hot sticky cum over her finely sculpted face sadistically. He held his hard cock by the base and raised it, then brought it down, slapping her with it and chuckling. He raised himself, poised the still-spurting rod at her lips, fell forward, jamming it all the way in, groaning as her teeth brushed the supersensitive glans and throbbing shaft. Lurch, and all the way, past the teeth and down all the way. His scalp crawled eerily.
"UUUUUuuuuuurrrrrrggggggghhhhhhh!! ! ! ! ! ! ! "
Automatically, she depressed her tongue, accepting the full length of his thick cock into her willing throat, sucking eagerly, biting gently, savoring the dwindling gift of oyster sauce into the wildly working depths of her gullet.
Karl's eyes were crossed.
His explosive charge of steaming semen was depleted, and he had to support himself with his arms. Christ, what a wild orgasm he had!
Shirley whimpered with exhaustion. Her pussy had flooded like never before, and as Karl pulled his slowly deflating penis from the buttery depths of her throat, she licked her lips, moaning in abandon.
And, unknown to both, right under them, on the nubby green carpet, a Sony cassette was winding away merrily, triggered by little Joannie Dirksen, the girl next door, by remote control.
Joannie Dirksen, fifteen, had a bet on with three of Fred's neighbor girls, all about the same age. The bet was who was to get into Fred's pants first. So, being the most aggressive, she was the one who informed Fred that men would come to his house while he was away. It was she who suggested that they plant her father's remote operable cassette recorder under his bed, a plan which Fred thought was sheer nonsense, preposterous. After all, who'd want to fuck old Monkey-tits?
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
CHAPTER THREE
Charlie sat on the smooth brown vinyl of his thundering bull-dozer, smiling. Look at that dirty old man, he mused, psyching Fred out with unerring accuracy. He'll get his ass landed in the pen if he messes with that little chickie! And Charlie chewed on the butt of his extinguished cigar, wishing that he could get into a delicious little piece like that. His daughter's girl friends drove him nuts, sitting around the house with their legs apart, their knees spread. Damn it, he thought, what fool invented panties? His cock was hard in his pants as he looked at the swinging little kid, standing there beside the lucky bastard, Fred Carlson.
Although Charlie Gumsrud liked Fred personally, he resented him too. Everything that Fred did worked. And now look, just look at the wild little girl he has. The bastard's taking off. Bet a buck to a beer that he nails her!
Fred wanted to touch Elaine. His hands wanted to, his heart told him to. But his mind said, "No No No!"
She was a miniature woman, a proud walking being, shaped, stacked, lithe even if pneumatic, pudgy. Beautiful. An odalisque with flashing black eyes, diaphanous hair, a coal black cascade that hung so very easily or flowed with the wind. Jesus, how she moved! The girl was pure sex, an imminent presence that promised to fulfill every carnal desire that any man could conjure up from the depths of his seething imagination. At least, Fred thought so. Once again, he was in love. But the fine difference was that this time he thought that the dark little Elaine was universally attractive, that he was lucky to be the one to be with her.
The truth was, even though she was universally attractive, or foxy, as they say, she was now who she was only because of him, because she would have willingly died on the spot for him. She was prepared to eat his shit, if it would please him. Anything, anything at all! OOOoooooohhhhh, God, how she burned to have him touch her! Tears flooded her eyes as she hurried toward his black Cadillac Fleetwood. She wanted to run, to hide in her closet, to cry her eyes out, to die, to get it over with. What was happening to her? It was all so terrible, so strong, so damned cryptic!
Trudging along behind her, Fred watched her fanny. Very tight Levi's, faded from a hundred washings. Those neat, full globes, doing this then that, this, then that, this, then that. MMMmmmmm, how he wanted to take those tight flairs off and kiss those beautiful moons of purity. Lick every square inch of her olive-tinted skin. Sink his tongue into her pussy.
Shit! Thirteen goddamn years old! What a crime to have that be illegal! Is there no justice? This little girl needs me, she needs someone to love her. Fuck a duck! I'm going to try, come what may! She gets to me, reaches something deep inside me, cuts into me with those expressive eyes. Damn it, I just know that we're somehow connected! Am I insane? Wow, what am I doing?
Fred shook his head and a shudder of incredulity shook him. He knew that he was skating on thin ice, but a brown little animal with razor-sharp teeth was inside him, gnawing like a brace and bit, going into his stomach. He was excited and frightened. The beautiful little girl walking ahead of him enthralled him, made him want to relent, yield to the weakness of his starving flesh. Little did he know that she, too was as bad as he, as desirous. It would have made little difference, of course, because the feeling that possessed each of them was such as could never be constrained by mere mental effort. No, this was low, growling, burning, abandoned sexuality, a beast that required satisfaction or death. There was no third alternative, not at all. Their spirits had touched in that magic way that nobody can ever understand or explain. Magic, pure and simple. Not so simple, and perhaps not so pure, but magic, nonetheless.
They reached the car, and Fred opened the door for Elaine, who slipped self-consciously onto the black leather of the front seat. Fred closed the door softly and walked around the back of the car, afraid that if she saw too much of him she might start to dislike him sooner than he wanted. He felt idiotic and obtrusive, but those flaming rivers of fire that were his veins and arteries made him also feel more like a man than he had ever felt. A man indeed! Designing on a mere child! He felt weird, but not at all like a perverted child molester. He felt bigger than usual, but somehow stupid, too. Well, it was obvious that his plans included touching her, which was dynamite any way one looked at it. Good Lord, fondling a child was severely dealt with by the authorities. But she's not a child, he argued, trying to justify his aching desire.
He got into the car and shut the door. He sighed and lit up another pair of cigarettes. Handed one to her absently, lost upside down on a merry-go-round. Conflict. No guilt about old Monkey-tits, hell no. But the whole thing was screwy. Almost thirty-two, now beside a thirteen-year-old. Humbert Humbert? And Lolita?
Good Lord, no! No, just a cup of coffee and maybe a Coke. We can't do it. God, no! That would be insanity, asking for a bloody nose. Blow the deal, end up making twine. Who needs it?
He glanced at her.
Their eyes met.
She had tears in her eyes, and quickly covered her face, sobbed.
He was stunned. God, why's she crying? "Why are you crying, Elaine? Tell me, please." His hand went to hers. Soft and cool. His hot, moist. Fondle. Rub. God, hold it desperately. Why are you crying, Elaine darling? Something I did? Are you afraid? Don't be, please! I won't hurt you. God, I love you! I'm a fucking fool!
She grasped his hand, turned away, shaking miserably. Melancholy voice. "Gosh, Mr. Carlson, I don't know." Fred, damn it, I love you! Why can't we go somewhere?! Hold me. Kiss me where we can without anybody seeing! God, kill me if you want. I've never felt like this! What's happening to me? Ooooooooohhhhhh, I just want to curl up and die; I'm soooooo sick, so--wowwww, I don't know what!
Jangled, Fred stabbed the key into the ignition switch, twisted it, pulled the monkey-motion shift lever into drive, and started off away from the site, afraid that Charlie might see the scene, which Charlie most certainly did. He didn't know where he was going, he just wanted to go, to get the hell away from there, to get the hell away from everywhere. He wished that there was some magical place, some sanctuary where people didn't exist, where laws didn't bind, some Eden of love, where he and his precious Elaine might be together, share tender and sweet kisses, know each others' bodies, make love with heart-bursting beauty and meaning. God yes! And he circled around the curving hills, avoiding the site they had just left, and he pointed the car toward the west, toward the farmlands outside of town, toward the Crow River, to a place he knew, a wonderful place where blue jays scolded, squirrels chattered, bugs hummed, where the wind in the trees soothed the tortured spirit, where everything was calm and tranquil, secure, beautiful, pristine, natural, the place to make love, where their spirits could kiss and melt together, where they would marry in their souls, where they would make love--because it had to happen and he knew it and knew it and knew it.
He buzzed. Her nearness burned into him. He was almost blind.
Elaine looked forward with bleary vision. Her hand clutched his. Her heart had broken cleanly in two. She knew that she was going to die. "OOOoooooohhhhh, Mr. Carlson," she wailed, and threw her face into his lap, sobbing hysterically.
Hot tears filtered through the material of his slacks and he pressed his hand down against her soft, clean hair, fondling her head. He was ashamed of the erection that sprang up in his pants, but there was nothing he could do about it. Wet heat, right there.
Elaine had seen penises. On the little boy babies that she sat for now and then. But she knew what it was she was breathing against. She knew. It was his. And it was large, huge, hot, hard, intriguing, exciting, demandingly obsessing, beautiful, IT! She stopped crying, but kept her face there, breathing hot against it on purpose now, instinctively. It called to her, exerting a magnetic attraction. Her hand moved onto the hard muscles of his thigh. She grasped him. Fulfillment! God, how happy she was. She kissed the hard bulge and her heart hammered crazily. She pressed her face down, opened her mouth. Gosh, what will he think? That I'm terrible? She bit him, taking the material of his pants over that hard tube of his magnetic flesh. Bit, but gently. His hand clutched her head. Fred was beside himself. What is this? he thought. My God, she's biting my cock! Un-real! His foot pressed down on the accelerator pedal, and the needle went from sixty to eighty in a few seconds. The sleek and highly polished black sedan raced down the sparsely trafficked highway, bound for Eden. Fred's pulses were bursting, his heart thumping, his cock so hard that he could hardly stand it. This was sensational! A girl he loved, the first time out with her, quite by accident, and she was turned on to him so much that she was actually biting his cock. He wanted to unzip his fly so that she could do it right. "Wait a minute, honey," he heard himself say. He lifted her face away. Then he did unzip his fly. "It's in there, waiting for you. Take it, little lover, it's all yours--only yours."
Panic swept through Elaine and she jerked bolt upright, tempted to open the door of the speeding Cadillac and jump out to certain death. His suggestion baffled her, but yet she wanted to do what he suggested. Was he telling the truth? What about his beautiful wife? The toad! How Elaine hated Shirley! She had seen the very cool, very sophisticated woman only twice, at her parents' parties, but she had an instinctive antipathy for the older woman, the wife of the man she wanted and loved, the man she was bound and determined to possess. like a mongoose and cobra, Elaine knew that she would one day have to engage in mortal combat with the vile, slender woman who seemed so fucking superior. But, did Fred--Mr. Carlson--mean what he said? Was it hers? She glanced at the horrendous scene of his opened fly. She whimpered in despair. Lord, how she wanted to reach in there and grasp it, fondle it, hold it, bring her lips to it, kiss it, do whatever her tummy told her to do. At this stage her body was a raging inferno, a seething network of fused cells melted one into the other, all burning to weld to the beautiful male body of her shining idol beside her.
"I CANT!" she cried, burying her face in her hands, wetting her palms with a fresh torrent of hot, saline tears.
Fred felt that he had blown the wad, that he had made the blunder of the century. He should have known better than to suggest such a lewd act to so pure a child. God, was he out of his mind? But yet, she had been nibbling on his penis just a moment before. That's what incited him to that insanity! He scowled, infuriated with himself for being so impulsive, so ill-mannered. Lunacy. But he thought, for a minute, that she was sexy, turned-on for him. Now, desolate, his foot eased up on the gas, then came completely off. It tapped the large brake pedal.
Panic once again seized Elaine. Mascara ran down her chubby cheeks as she noticed him stopping. "What are going to do?"
"Aw, screw it," Fred grumbled, pouting and unhappy. "Let's turn around. We'll stop somewhere and have something, then I'll take you back to the site--where you met me." He felt shitty.
"NNNnnnnnoooooooo," Elaine moaned, "please don't! Try to understand, Mr. Carlson, please! I'm so afraid! I'm . . .a . . .virgin!" She blinked back her tears and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. She looked funny, with no make-up, with her red and swollen eyelids, with her nose red from tears, with her lower lip quivering.
Fred laughed. His foot came off the brake, went onto the gas. The car purred forward, gathering speed. His spirit soared. His hand clasped hers, brought it to his lips, turned it. He kissed her hand in the palm. His tongue speared her sweet palm, fondled it, forced a message right through that sweet skin. Hove you.
Niagara revisited. Elaine began to bawl, and threw herself against him "OOOooooohhhh, God! What am I going to do?? ? "
His arm encircled her. His hand cupped her breast. She leaned closer and her hand slipped into his open fly. Electrifying touch!
Magic happened. Their spirits melded. It was complete.
God yes, hold me! she silently urged, so happy that she could have burst.
Fred almost lost it going around an easy bend. He couldn't see because he was so agitated from the delirious rush of intense arousal. Holy shit! Thirteen, and what a woman! The large black car swerved, the tires screamed, and he chuckled. Man, what a way to go, he mused. like John Garfield or Steve Cochoran. Nice. The soft and warm flesh of her large, yielding breast was his balm of Gilead, soothing his jagged emotions like nothing else could. Her tit was mammoth compared to Shirley's--two fried eggs nailed to a washboard of a chest. These were boobs! Lush, full, high, ripe!
Fred inveigled his hand into the shirt, squirmed his fingers into the brassiere, gloriously cupped that gorgeous prize, what bliss! He almost shot off! Her tit was luscious, and as he captured it, her hand clasped his cock so hard that he once again swerved perilously, narrowly missing a white road-marker that would have demolished the car's suspension.
OOOoooohhhhh, what am I doing? Elaine thought dizzily, her hot little hand grasping that tube of strange flesh jutting magnificently from Fred's body. Merely the touch stole her breath away, made her body quiver with some inexplicable delight, made her want to spread her young and nubile thighs for some reason she couldn't understand.
Fred knew what she was doing, and he knew what he was doing. He was being beat-off while fondling a large, plump breast, trying all the while to keep his car on the road while speeding to a secret destination where he might lie atop her, insert his penis into her, kiss her, feel her against him where nobody could bother them.
Elaine opened her eyes and pulled Fred's cock out. She gasped as she saw how large it was. Its scent wafted up to her, making her head spin in sexual delirium. She wanted to kiss it, to put it into her mouth. What a funny-looking thing! like a big sausage! Hard. That front part; like a crab-apple! OOOoooohhhhh, God!
Fred turned off onto a dirt road, the tires of the car showering up a spray of red dust against the standing rye. Almost there.
That goes into my pussy! Jesus, it'll never fit! Even my finger is tight! That's like my arm! Elaine whimpered abjectly. Her fingers grasped Fred's blood-filled penis desperately and only the strongest of resolve kept her from throwing herself upon it, lips open, mouth ready. Mother, how she wanted to taste it! Oh, what wild rushing emotions rushed through her! It was as though she were blossoming into womanhood, raging madly, hotly into some beautiful grove of heavenly bliss yet hellish confusion. The world was topsy-turvy for her, reeling her into a sexual limbo of vertigo, tumbling her breathlessly into seething voids. She wanted to crawl into her lover, be secure there, be contained by him, safe and warm and loved. She thought this to Fred, and pressed his hand against her warm, pneumatic breast with hers. Her other hand squeezed his swollen penis desperately, and all the while, guilt flooded her. She was keenly aware that she was sinning unforgivably, but she didn't care if she would spend her eternity in hell's fires; she just had to touch him, to let him know that she was his, body and soul.
Fred, wrong as usual, thought that he had stumbled upon a fast girl. Virgin indeed! Bullshit! She's a fox! Well, goddammit, I like her anyway! But, Fred was wrong. She was a virgin, and she had never behaved quite that way before, not even when forced at knife-point to do degrading and obscene things in southern France. She did love him, and Fred couldn't quite believe it. Not after so many mistakes. He loved her--that was enough for him. Selfishness was one of the dominating principles in his life by this time, an ignoble emotion spawned by knocks. Yet, he realized that Elaine was a prize not to be ignored. His hand was hot against the yielding liquidity of her nubile young breast. Her nipple sprung out and burned into the moist palm of his hand. He turned again, and sent up a high shower of dust as he raced toward his destination, their place of peace. Sanctuary. A place of love, unspoiled by a single argument.
Through the rye, coming through the rye. They arrived. A small gate, untended for years, since Fred bought the place. No houses, nothing. Just a high bluff, eleven acres. An island. The river flows backward here. Noise from a sawmill two miles away. Buzzing insects, innocuous. The tall grass, some dead and still standing from last year, husky yellow, stubborn Swedish grass, perhaps.
Action in the car. Hot action. Kind words, hot thoughts. Nice words. "God, Elaine, I think I love you."
"Oh, Mr. Carlson
"Call me Fred....."
""OOOoooohhhhh, Fred. Wow, gee! Mr. Carlson, Fred!"
"We're here!"
"Where are we?"
"Here."
"Where's here?"
"Where we're at, my little love. Come on out. I want to take your clothes off and kiss you all over."
"No."
"Yes! I want to kiss your mouth, your beautiful eyes, your ears and hair and neck, your fine and glorious breasts, your belly, your belly-button, your puss --"
"NO!"
"Your legs, your toes, the very bottoms of your feet, your armpits, your fanny --"
"Your very soul, don't you know?! " Pause. "Come now."
Elaine felt as though she had been cut in half by a machine-gun. She was liquid, unable to move. She swooned and fell back against the shiny black leather, groaning in lost ecstasy. "Mr. Carlson, what am I going to do? I feel so strange! I love you, darn it!"
Fred fell upon her like a yellow-eyed timber wolf, his mouth smashing against hers in a hot, searing kiss. His lips felt hers, his tongue darted into her mouth, found her tongue, touched it in a sparking shower of white-hot sparks. He was together. His breath left him as he affixed himself to her. Glorious gratification! "Oooohhh, Elaine, my loving, sweet --"
"MMMmmmm, Fred, my dear darling--oooohhhhh God!"
Fred's hand pulled her shirt from the confines of her tight Levi's, and his hand slid up, snaked under the bottom of her tight brassiere, and cupped first one breast and then the other. Incredible smoothness, vibrating so he could feel it. Madness! Lust!
OOOOoooooooohhhhh, will I be good enough? Elaine screamed in her dizzied soul. Will I please this wonderful god of a man ?
Fred broke the fantastic kiss and hurried out of the car. The sun was high now, and the tall grass was dry. He almost sprinted around the car--the front this time--and opened her door. "Hurry!"
She accepted his hand and almost fell out, drunk on sex. She melted against him as they walked, like lovers, toward the bluff overlooking the slowly moving stream, chided by the forest creatures whose forest domain they trespassed upon so innocently. Some of the animals knew, and chewed out the others who didn't. As Elaine and Fred found their place, everything was once again tranquil. The creatures knew!
He handed her down, sat beside her in the sweet smelling grass.
Their eyes met. Infinite sadness. Despair.
God, what can I do? That's what they both thought.
Fred felt the idiot, his cock out, semi-rigid. Boob.
Elaine felt sinful. More tears. What can I do?? ?
Fred put his hand on her wonderful shoulder, pressed her back, pushed her easily down, held her so she wouldn't go hard or fast. When she was down he rolled over onto her, savoring the warm softness of her young and soft body, his body in her skin, his possession beyond any doubt whatsoever. God, how good it was!
"I have been looking for you for so long!"
"You found me, Mr. Carlson. I'm yours!"
"Call me Fred, please?" He liked Mr. Carlson better.
Their eyes were only two inches apart. Weird. Madness. So very fine. Every fibrile of their bodies were merged. Nice.
Fred inhaled her sweet young breath and sighed, fulfilled. God.
Elaine was about to die. Audaciously, she thrust her hands up and ran her fingers through his rather long hair, her eyes closed. The sun's brightness was a red before her eye-lids, hot on her face. The earth was warm beneath her. She hummed inside. Happiness. "Fred," she softly cried, "please be careful with me. God, you don't know how I've dreamed about something like this...."
He grazed her full and quivering lips with a dry kiss, his own heart pounding dangerously. MMMMmmmmmmmm, who can say how much he really loved this woman-child. His total weight rested on her small and hot body sensuously. His cock was out, soft and harmless. Even if it would have been hard, it would have been harmless, because he had been clipped, a direct result of his sour marriage and three kids. He had had a voluntary vasectomy, and could not, under any circumstances, produce children. Best seventy-five bucks he had ever spent, without a doubt! Elaine wouldn't get knocked up. But he wasn't about to tell her that he was sterile! Lingering distrust, mingled with burning love. Who can trust a kid? Even if she has a hot cunt and two very beautiful tits? Flaired hips. Liquid movement. Warm, yielding lips. A calling spirit. Shit, Fred thought, I CAN! I CAN, IF NOBODY ELSE CAN!! ! Fred was lost, utterly lost. How he loved her, craved her.
Elaine sighed and smiled. The sun was hot on her, Fred was even hotter. She was a woman now, she thought, possessed and fulfilled, noticed, seen, accepted, really appreciated. It was her time.
"OOOooohhhhhh, my lover," she cried, tears welling up from her deep pools of dark brown eyes. She dug her fingers into the hard meat of his back and squirmed, trying to writhe up against him, trying to press her burning pussy against his strength, his cock.
Fred dipped for another cool kiss, his eyes open.
Vision of loveliness. He kissed her closed eyes. His heart battered against the tight muscles of his chest. His cock began to hear, inflated gradually. Blue jays, as they will, chided. He smiled, tried to rein up, enjoy this wonderful thing. Really a virgin? Maybe. Well, we'll see! God, she is without a doubt the living example of feminine perfection! Cool and dry lips brush her face all over. Hands, neither cool nor dry, fondled her vibrant body. Wow, those breasts, even the stomach, those wild hips, down to the warmth, in there, in that warm part in there, there! Aaaahhhhh! Yes!
"GGGOOODDDDDDDDDD!" she cried, "what you do to me!"
Her thighs spread out.
Fred pushed away and brazenly unzipped the fly of her Levi's, feasting on her olive belly, the flowered nylon underpants. He pulled the Levi's down; she arched, willing. All the way off, over her sandals, and off. Her toes were great. He shuffled down after noticing them, kissed each of them, and then sucked each of them; they were HER toes, great toes, beautiful toes, toes to be loved.
Elaine knew that there was going to be an earthquake or H-Bomb attack. She whimpered and prayed to Mother Nature to let it go on. It was all too wonderful to happen; something had to spoil it!
Then he kissed her again, his lips opened, his tongue darting into her eagerly receptive mouth, his hands fondling her so lovingly.
She mewed and squirmed under him, grasped him, quenched her lust with the feeling of his warm nearness.
Fred pulled away, incited to roaring lust. Hooking his fingers into the elastic waistband of her underpants, he pushed them down, his eyes hot as he gazed at the olive sheen of her forbidden parts. God, what a beautiful little patch of black pubic hair! He longed to kiss it, to delve into it, to sample the honey of her little valley! He pulled those panties off and his eyes were welded to that beautiful thicket of promise. She raised one foot and another. Glancing at her, he saw that her eyes were closed. Aaahhhh. What a sweet, acquiescent child! Off, he threw the panties aside after clutching them. Then he bent. His lips approached that magic bush, and he inhaled. Such sweetness! The curly down tickled his lips.
Elaine writhed and shook with sensual delight.
Fred dipped and kissed her mound. He moved down, his tongue the guide, leading him. It tasted her sweetness. It delved into the first fold of her sex-wet labia. Ah! Deeper, farther back. He felt her hands come around the back of his head, pulling him; he responded eagerly, aroused to flaming eroticism. God, what sublime flavor! His tongue flicked out boldly, and sank into the toothsome depths of her crevice, coated now with virginal juices better than any soup Grandma ever concocted in a pot on the stove! They were two but yet one, their hearts beating to the same time. His tongue rimmed the delicate petals of her modestly-haired cuntal lips, darted into the buttery depths of her untried cunt, returned with a cargo of sweet maiden juice.
Oh, God! How sweet it was!
Elaine couldn't believe the fantastic sensations rushing to every unknown corner of her young body. She jerked and bucked, cried out, grasped Fred's head, tried to pull him closer against her. The sensation was unbearably great, incredibly sweet. Her heart was once again about to explode. Nothing seemed real to her as that hot wet tongue touched her just where it had to, just where She burned and itched. But it didn't put her fire out, it made it worse while feeling so incredibly fine!
And Fred was enthralled. God, there he was, out among beautiful nature, in the warmth of awakening springtime, experiencing sweet love that he felt he had no right to enjoy. Elaine's delicious little pussy seemed to suck his mouth every bit as hard as his sucking mouth worked at it. What a lover--it was wearing him out! His hands swept warmly over her bare thighs, slid up her bare hips, touched the coolness of her fanny, coursed up the valleys of her fluted waist, and up her exciting front, to push her tight brassiere over those twin mounds of nubile young softness so cool. He cupped her breasts, his tongue lapping and spearing, his lips kissing and sucking, his teeth nipping her delicate and totally exposed bottom. Her legs pressed his head in a scissors-grip, bringing him closer, satisfying her young and inexperienced body ever more.
One of Elaine's hands found his penis again, and she grasped it, turned her torso, writhed almost acrobatically, and came to it with her lips, instinctively, not afraid, just motivated to administer oral sex as was being done to her. She was not acting brash, but some instinctive force in her made her do what she did. Her lips ovaled, she closed her eyes, and accepted the large, pungent, rubber-like glans of his blood-engorged knob into them, kissing it first, then allowing it to pass. As her lips touched that velvet-like hot bulb, a thrill shot burningly through her, rocking her, dizzying her, knocking the very breath out of her.
"MMMMmmmmmmmmmm...."
Fred bucked forward as he felt the magical touch of her lips on his cock. Her delicious pussy was sweet, not like Shirley's cunt, which gagged him. Elain's was like ambrosia, nectar of the gods, and he delved deeply into those honeyed folds, sucking out her goodness as his skin crawled and his breath faltered. A conquest!
At peace, Fred knew that he had finally found someone who could be close to him. This girl was every bit as good as he thought she might be, only she was even better, which was fabulous, since
Fred had a very vigorous imagination!
Elaine began to buck and writhe. Rivers of fire began to rush through her body. She was having an orgasm, but not one like she would have while playing with herself, no. This was something that frightened her, something desperate, something that threatened to kill her, drive her mad, destroy her total body. The call was there, and she couldn't deny it for a second! Instead of stopping, which was impossible, she worked harder at being a sexual woman, following the lead of her latent eroticism, and she began to suck harder, her tongue lolling over the light-skinned shaft of Fred's wetly trapped penis. God, the taste of it did something to Elaine, made her want to explode sexually, and her fingers dug into his skin and she cried out from the depths of her throat. MMMmmmmnnnn!! ! "
Fred had found the small nub of her clitoris and was sucking it wildly, noting all the while that Elaine was responding beautifully. He wanted her to cum in his mouth but he didn't want to cum in hers; that might blast her out of the tank, disillusion her, frighten her, make her not like him any more. And his nuts were about to erupt. He tried to pull away, but she had thrown her arms around him....
Elaine was locked desperately into the embrace, welded into it hopelessly. No force on earth could have kept her from her natural culmination with her dearest lover, and she wanted him to continue, to do what she felt had to be done. Hence, when he tried to pull away, she clutched him as, a possession of hers, neither willing nor able to release him. She was his, for the time being, at least. But, more importantly, something was happening, something drastic, and she knew that any disruption of their frantic ministrations would be a calamity, a disaster, chaos! She knew, deep down, that he was going to respond to her, or at least she hoped so, so she held on to him as though her very life depended upon it.
It was apparent to Fred that she felt the way she did, and he continued, knowing that they were on the down stretch, approaching their climax. Her juices were flowing freely and she was making wet, slurping noises as she sucked on his sensitive penis so madly, so desperately. Fred didn't really want to let himself go like that, not the first time with a thirteen-year-old, but what could he do? He abandoned himself to it, that's what he did.
He focused sharply on the bizarre experience. There he was, on a bluff overlooking a beautiful little river, the sounds of nature surrounding him, his face hotly-trapped between a pair of creamy white thighs, his tongue slurping up the most delicious of all maiden juice, his cock thrust erotically into the buttery depths of the delightful nymphet's throat, his nuts about to explode like twin cherry bombs. What could he do? He came! He came with a bang!
"AAAAAaaaaaaarrrrgggggghhhhhh!! ! ! ! ! "
Elaine exploded at the same time, and her arms and legs seemed to fly off crazily, her stomach burst, waves of erotic passion shot through her, sweet and wonderful waves of carnal lust satisfied.
Jets of white-hot cum spurted into her mouth and she sucked as hard as she could, trying desperately to savor every last drop, to fulfill herself with his gift of love.
The same for Fred. He sucked at the crucial moment, and her blazing gush of hot orgasmic fluid spewed out, filling his mouth, mingling with his wildly secreting saliva, and he clutched her to him desperately, more in love than he could stand.
Then, amidst the hummmm and cawings of the birds and bugs, they slumped, dead to the world.
Finally, Fred disengaged himself and crawled up to Elaine, placed his lips against hers, and planted a soft, wet kiss on her.
"God," she murmured, "how long I've waited!"
"Are you really a virgin?" he asked.
"Only physically, now, lover, only physically now! I have my cherry--your cherry--but you've had me!"
The only thing wrong was the unnoticed presence of Don House, Elaine's most ardent boy admirer. He had an AKAI VTR and had shot the entire sequence in audiovid.
CHAPTER FOUR
Don House was the only boy that ever heard about Elaine's rape in France. Oh, she didn't get fucked; she was dealt with in other ways. She was walking home from her girl friend's house at night, quite a bit after school. Walking about two blocks from her home, across a small park with rolling hills, her dead mouse in a match-box. This car. A Citroen DS-19. Four boys. Two rushed out, grabbed her. In her panic, she dropped the dead mouse in the match-box. She was thrust into the back seat. More hands grabbed her. Pulled her in. Terror! No door handles inside. Elaine fought viciously but the boys were brutal and determined. They slapped her and one managed to twist her arm behind her back, forcing her into submission.
The metallic whine of a zipper almost made Elaine faint as the car sped toward the east.
Then she felt her clothes ripped off.
She had the curse, and tucked up between her legs, tight against her crotch, was a large white Kotex.
The French boys gasped in horrified dismay. "Sacre bleu, SANGRE!"
This saved Elaine's virginity, but they weren't through with her, not at all. She was forced down and the scent of musky and raw male sex overpowered her as she felt the unfamiliar touch of a sex organ pressed against her face.
"Mange-toi!" came the gruff order, followed by a rough twist of her hair.
Elaine, at this time, was twelve, and she was crying hysterically.
The perverted young man whose lap her face was in pinched her nose so she was forced to open her mouth widely. Then he shoved his scummed-over cock into her mouth, manipulating her head.
Dizzying spasms of revulsion shook Elaine, and she retched, almost losing the contents of her stomach. The taste was unbearably strong, the sharp scent was acrid and unpleasant. The penis was so hard that it hurt the top of her mouth. She struggled again, trying to bite that throbbing tube of obscene flesh that was thrusting up into her protesting mouth so lugubriously, so salaciously.
The whole revolting scene of carnal depravity was overwhelming the piteous girl and, when she felt that penis begin to tingle and twitch as though it were electric, she tried once again to struggle up.
The boy holding her down laughed raucously and thrust her head all the way down.
"MMMmmmmmnummmnumm...." Elaine tried with all her strength to disgorge the intruding tube of quivering male flesh, but suddenly her mouth was filled to overflowing with some very bad gooey substance. She tried to spit it out, but to no avail. Drop after drop slid down her wildly protesting throat, causing her very stomach to turn. She thought that she would surely die.
That French boy unleashed his whole cargo of hot sticky cum into the depths of Elaine's gullet, and then he laughed again and thrust the girl aside, to his compatriot beside him.
The scene was repeated with him.
Elaine couldn't believe it.
There was just noise and smell and taste and touch. Everything was pitch-black. The car had stopped.
Four times that night she had to suck penises, servicing each boy. When she was finished her lips were raw, her budding breasts black and blue, her tightly puckered anus burning from the stabbing of unseen fingers.
Nude, she was shoved roughly out of the car, which sped away.
Bewildered and sick from her vexing experience, Elaine could just lie on the rocky ground on the side of the road and whimper softly. She was too upset to walk, she was frightened, she was lost.
After what seemed like hours, the lights and noise from a car approaching roused her. She wondered if she should try to hide; after all, she was naked but for her school stockings and oxfords.
The driver saw her. He was a young Italian, touring the south of France in his new Ferrari. Reacting swiftly to the bizarre sight, he quickly down-shifted and swerved the car over to a stop.
He leaped out, removing his coat most gallantly. He only spoke Italian and some Italian version of French, so when he called out to Elaine, she couldn't answer him, but in her rather awkward French.
She understood about the coat, though, and went timidly to the man, trying to cover every part of her anatomy with her two small hands. She was still blubbering and whining, and accepted the coat with a tearful nod of appreciation.
The thoroughly honorable young Italian brought her home, where a major scene ensued, Masterson ready to beat the Italian and his daughter both. Elaine quickly put him right, and the tone changed. Masterson, agitated, called the police, while Mrs. Masterson brought Elaine to the bathroom. Then the Italian and Masterson had a few glasses of wine and some sandwiches, profuse apologies were extended by Masterson, and the Italian left, proceeding to his home in San Remo. As he drove his high-powered racing car expertly toward Monaco, his jaws were tight, his knuckles on the steering wheel were white. His personal opinion was that the French were all crazy as hell--What's the matter with a little blood?
Now, this late Saturday morning, Elaine and Fred lay in the warm and tall grass, unaware that they were being videotaped.
The thoughts about her previous encounter with penises in her mouth floated through her once again, as they had earlier that day. What had been horrible, under other circumstances, was now so very beautiful! She turned on her side and smiled at Fred.
"My God," she murmured, "you are my God...." Her hand moved toward him and traced a soft, loving series of romantic little curly-Qs on his cheek. She was purring in the warm sunlight, completely secure in her nakedness with her new lover. She felt that she had to be naked, nude, to relate to him the way she wanted to, fully. Every cell in her body was bursting with keen delight and feminine satisfaction. She felt loved, wanted, for her own sake.
Fred was comfortable, truly comfortable for the first time in ages. It was no real conquest for him to have done what he did, and post-orgasm remorse threatened to overpower the feeling of bliss that filled him so warmly. Pulling off a soixante-neuf with a pneumatic youngster was a trick, in a way, but nothing to crow about. A child, he told himself, regarding her through half-closed eyes. No, a woman! another part of his mind argued. She seemed to be mature in her responses, calm and not at all childish. Her body was that of a woman, certainly! He curled closer as her finger teased his cheek. God, what a beautiful day for him!
"Elaine," he said dreamily, and smiled. Then he began to recite a poem from the top of his head--a poem that just occurred to him: "Lainie baby, boobs so fine; won't you be that girl of mine? I want to hold you, love you deep, and butt-to-butt we'll go to sleep!"
Elaine exploded in mirthful laughter. "You just make that up?"
"No, it's from Shakespeare! What do you think?" And then he went on: "Here comes Lainie, down the street--watch those hips, what a beat!" and on and on and on. Fred had never built so quickly as he was doing this morning. He' recalled Ibsen's classic, The Master Builder, the play about an older builder who had a rather unsatisfactory home-life, and who fell in love with a very young girl. That builder had been afraid of heights, but the girl had inspired him to reckless bravado, and he mounted a scaffold that led to the very spire of the town church that he was building. ZUT! The end for that builder, but he died supremely happy. Fred wondered if such would be his fate, and hoped that the Master Builder had enjoyed his young sweetheart as much as he, Fred, was enjoying the dark-eyed Elaine.
What sort of heights might I be threatened with? Fred wondered. Probably Icarian heights, like flying too near the sun. He was not afraid of heights, having been a pilot for five years. No, distances from the ground didn't frighten him at all, and he quite often went up to the ridge pole on some tall house, to nail the rafters when the carpenters were too timid. But, there was always the chance of flying too near the sun, of becoming too big, of exploding or perhaps being exploded--exposed. Yes, he mused wryly, that will most likely be it, the Master Builder will be exploded, exposed. Shit!
His mood was depressed now, despite the pristine tranquility of their surroundings. God, he loved her, but who can legally love a girl only thirteen? Each time he would go out with her he would be taking one hell of a chance. Each time they might touch, it would be possible that somebody would see, and that would be that. Of course there was also the very distinct possibility that Elaine herself might become disaffectionate, angered, and might blow the whistle. like: "Dad, you know what that Mr. Carlson made me do --?"
A bad shudder shook him and he examined Elaine's eyes. "You wouldn't ever think of telling anybody about this, would you?" he asked pointedly.
She kissed the tip of her index finger and pressed it against his slightly parted lips. "Don't be silly," she chided.
"I was silly," he replied evenly, "just now."
Elaine pondered that and frowned. She felt put down by that straightforward statement, but she mused that he was right, that he had taken a bit of a chance. Still, her prestige as a woman was involved, and some dam of sensuality had broken in her, flooding her with burning desire. Also, she wanted to prove herself, so, evilly, she smiled her most seductive smile and let her small, cool hand move down until she was once again grasping his penis, which was semi-hard yet. She manipulated his warm protuberance expertly, toying teasingly with the foreskin, inserting her finger under it so that it was trapped in that heat between the stretched skin and rubbery knob.
She twisted the finger sensuously around, all the while telegraphing messages of wonderful sex to him from the dark, sparkling depths of her seductive eyes. God, those eyes made Fred's stomach do weird things. He felt the tinglings in his burning groin, the rush of thickening blood to his genitals, to his scrotum which tightened, to his penis, which was becoming hotter and larger once again in response to her subtle, erotic ministrations. He knew what she wanted and thought, What the hell, may as well be hanged for a goat as a sheep. The weakness of the flesh was never quite so apparent as it was this day with Fred. His resolve crumbled under Elaine's gentle persuasion, and his intention not to screw her this day crumbled with that resolve. He was prepared to believe that he was, in point of fact, insane--crazy as hell!
A variety of amusement was filling Elaine. She felt great, like some powerful woman, a controller. She was making him sexy, and this fact told her that she was no longer a child, but a desirable woman. A graduation had occurred for her at that magic place where they were lying in the warm grass. "You make me feel like a whole woman," she said to Fred, clasping his now-erect penis tightly, demandingly.
"I'm glad," Fred replied, noting that she was more of a woman than his wife ever would be. Telling Elaine this would have been one of the best moves Fred could have made, but he merely smiled at her, wondering how tight she would be. He reached down with his hand and pressed his fingers against the modest thatch of coal-black pubic hair that graced her bulging mound, her proud pubis, and began to move those fingers up and down a bit, noting with satisfaction that it affected her. She moaned.
"OOOoooooooohhhhhh, yeeeesssss," she murmured, cuddling closer to him in response to the unspoken demand of her sex-hungry young body. Elaine was discovering sex, but not with her mind. It was a visceral sensation, a guts feeling, that she was able to feel. Her mind was torn between the traditional antagonists, desire and guilt.
Can sex out of marriage be condoned? Her preacher told her no her school told her no, her mother and father told her no! But her body told her yes! After all, she had to have gratification, but she didn't say that to herself. No, her body craved it; her mind only realized it. Trying to deal with the guilt, she thought, what difference is there between sex and eating, say, as far as the body's determination is concerned? If a person is starving, he should eat, even if the meal is stolen or begged for. Yes, she mused wryly, but if you steal or beg you might either go to jail or end up a social outcast--which is what she felt like in part of her mind.
This moral crippling diminished her total enjoyment of what she thought could be a good, pure, loving, holy experience. Oddly, even though she felt a spiritual love for Fred, the holy aspect, which should have been the strongest intellectual component of her feelings, was precisely the aspect which was most detrimental to her whole perception of the affair. Damn, damn guilt! she silently cursed, my pussy needs satisfaction! God, it's burning and itching, and when Fred touches it, it feels so fine. Jumping away from her train of thought with reckless abandon, she said: "God, Fred, will you fuck me today?"
Don House almost fainted! He watched the audiometer and saw that the needle was steady, straight up. He smiled evilly and lay on his stomach in the grass, some twenty feet away. His motorcycle was parked among a thick clump of lilacs, well-hidden.
He lay on his stomach, his young penis stretched so tightly that he thought it would burst or explode in flames. Feasting his eyes on the lovely spectacle of Elaine's body, he growled. It was his intention to have her, and have her any and every time he wanted her. Turning his attention to Fred, his eyes narrowed and the burning hatred of keen jealousy sliced through him like a sword. This man would pay! Don wondered what the man's wife felt like, tasted like, fucked and sucked like! He had been watching Elaine for a long time, trying to get something on her, and now, with his twenty-pound video recorder, he was getting his lever. Glancing at the monitor display, he chuckled. Yes, the picture was coming in loud and clear, and his accessory zoom lens was working like a charm. Worth its weight in gold, and it cost eighteen hundred dollars, the lens.
Toying with it, he zoomed in on Fred's fingers.
A wedding band. Hmm! And then that one middle finger, slipping into the soft and swollen lips, those moist, hair-lined lips of Elaine's cunt. Ah! She's moving slightly. Zoom in! Look at those delicious, white moons of her ass! Why, that bastard's going back there! Whoops! I spy an ass-hole! Yes, I'll get into that ass-hole, too. Maybe me and all my friends will all do her--at the same time! What fun!
And, twenty feet away, Fred was fondling Elaine's bottom, that masterpiece of feminine smoothness and youthful beauty. God, her buttocks were so beautiful! His hand coursed over them slowly, drinking in their alluring appeal, their coolness. His hand Slipped into the warmer, moist crack and his finger touched the hot little knot of her anus. Oh Jesus, he thought, I wonder if she'd ever let me get her there?
He pressed against it, judging her reaction to be not unfavorable. His other hand was kneading her full, ripe breast, a monument of splendid liquidity that retained its roundness even when she had lain on her back. Her nipples were dark pink, surrounded by intriguing aureoles that made Fred's mouth water. He moved down a bit, rolled Elaine onto her back, and pressed his hungry lips onto a nipple, rolling that now-hard little nub of delicious pink flesh between his upper teeth and his tongue. Then he sucked, pulling as much of that deliriously attractive flesh into his mouth as he could. His low hand worked her pussy demandingly, the middle finger massaging the warm and vibrant little clitoris so that Elaine writhed and whimpered in the throes of abandoned animal desire and ecstasy below him. Raising himself, Fred quickly unbuttoned his shirt so that his bare chest could couple sensuously with her naked belly. Then, down again, he resumed his oral manipulations, and began to work his finger in and out of the wet hotness of her tightly clasping labia. God, what a cunt she had! Perfection!
Fred slowly began to enter it farther, proceeding from the atrium of the tight vulva into the ridged, clasping hotness of her wet and ready vagina.
"OOOOHHHH, GODDDD, FREDDDDD! YYYESSSSSS!! ! DO IT!! "
The gentle sound of her voice thrilled Fred. There was little girl in it, but also sexy woman. Her voice killed him. Everything about this girl was excellent, wonderful, lovable. She was everything that Shirley wasn't, and he hoped that she was nothing Shirley was! God, another nightmare like Shirley he didn't need! Her soft, yielding flesh beneath him, cool and soothing under his demanding body, made his heart crash in his ears. Happiness like he was now experiencing was almost too rich for him, but he couldn't stop unless someone were to shoot him with an elephant gun.
"Oh, shit, Elaine, what you said to me; don't you know how long I've been waiting for you?" He sunk his finger into her tightly clasping little virginal hole and she wriggled along with him, her eyes closed easily, her lips parted so seductively that he wanted to bruise them with his, bite them, draw blood. God, what a superb woman!
Samoa? The Trobriands? Fred wondered where he could go, take her, where they could be safe from the scowls of civilization, safe from the stern application of the law, secure from denunciation. Does love like this know age limits? Everybody says so. He wondered quickly if Mastersons would trade her for their house. Free house if he could marry Elaine after a divorce. Goddamn laws! But laws may prevent a lot of lawlessness, he thought, smiling at the idiotically tautological conclusion. He turned his thoughts once again to the sensational feeling of his finger in her pussy. His lips dipped once again to that mound of inviting softness, capped by the wild strawberry of a nipple. God, he could imagine being a baby, sucking sweet milk from that wonderful teat. What lucky baby, he wondered, will have the good luck to nurse at these wonderful breasts?
"Oh, God," Elaine whispered, her whole body on fire. "Fred, what are we going to do? Jesus, I want you more than I've ever wanted anything! What are we going to do?" She had opened her eyes, and was looking at the beautiful sight of the sun as it filtered through the rich green of the young oak leaves above them. It's like some romantic movie, she thought. The two of them, all alone with nature. Birds calling, mating. The gentle gurgle of the river down there, the overriding buzz of insects, the gentle whisper of the wind in the tree-tops, Fred, his weight, his warmth, his gentleness; omigawd, so very fine! She wondered then if it would hurt, if she could stand it. She was suddenly frightened, and stiffened.
"What's the matter?" Fred asked, noticing her change.
"God, I'm just a little afraid, that's all. I'm afraid that it might hurt when you do it to me. Have you ever--fucked--a virgin before?" Her arms curled around him, up under his woolen shirt. Her fingernails scratched his back sinuously and she closed her eyes.
"It will hurt, my little lover. We don't have to do it...."
"I want you to! I don't care if it kills me! I want it to hurt, so I can remember the pain, know it was you, that it was something worthwhile...."
Fred raised himself and looked down at her. A child? Hardly! No child could think like that! He suddenly knew that she would never tell. "I'll be gentle," he whispered, and then pressed his lips gently against hers.
As their tongues met, Elaine released his lust-hardened penis and threw her arms around him, clutching to him so hard that he was afraid that he might crush her with the combination of his weight and her strength. She ground her lips against his, nipped his lip after sucking it into her mouth. She was crying from deep in her throat, the song a heart-song of abandon and release, of female resignation, of willingness to be had, used, loved.
Fred wriggled his hips and positioned his cock against those moist and ready lips of her virginal cunt. The heat was intense there, and he pressed forward, still locked in the passionate embrace. Slowly a wet warmth covered the sensitively expanded glans of his lust-crazed cock as the rubber-like knob worked into that pair of receptive labia.
"Ooooommmmmmmmmm," he hummed, his stomach now the ruler of his body. The stomach muscles contracted, tightened, making him buck forward, causing that illicit and pederastic penetration. It had to be! He pressed forward, his eager flesh beyond any legislative strictures.
Elaine cried out from deep within her as she felt her vaginal walls being stretched so mercilessly, but she just couldn't stop! Instead, she steeled herself, bucked back, trying to achieve the end of the pain, the beginnings of the corporeal pleasure that she knew underlay the lust that commanded her body to subject itself to the entry of that terribly large shaft of masculine flesh. God, did it hurt, but there was something more than the pain; there was a strange compulsion to accept it, an unspoken promise, some underlying drive to smash back, to take it, bear it, become impaled, get fucked.
YES, THAT WAS IT! GET FUCKED! Elaine
WANTED to be fucked, to be hurt, to bleed from her torn and ruptured hymen, she wanted her cherry popped! Breaking the kiss, she threw her legs as wide as she could and locked her ankles instinctively over his back. "GOD! HIT ME!" she cried out luridly, lost to the passion of sex, "SLAM YOUR COCK INTO ME, NOWWWWW!! ! ! ! "
Fred pulled back, his erection about to burst, and he left only the straining knob in, lodged tightly in the cleft of her hot and wet little furrow. Bracing, his knees on the grass, he lurched forward with all his might, and sent his rigid member all the way in to the hilt, slicing through her hymen into a pool of fire, a seething cauldron.
"AAAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!! ! ! ! " Elaine screamed, the very breath knocked out of her, her eyes wide in disbelief, her body as rigid as a stainless steel I-beam. The terrific burning pain seared her very soul, making her believe that she had been split like a log which had been smashed by a wedge and sledge. She shuddered, hating Fred at that second.
He covered her mouth with a burning kiss, his tongue thrusting into the sweet recesses of her honey-mouth, and nestled tightly against her, pressing his chest against her burning breasts. Then, slowly, he pulled his blood-slick protuberance almost all the way out, causing Elaine to sigh and relax. Again, slowly this time, he pressed forward, sending the entire length of his erection erotically into the boiling recesses of her plundered cuntal hole.
The pain was sharp, but as he pulled it out, it diminished, and that other sensation, that demanding call of her body picked out a pinpoint of intense pleasure, something so very important that it overrode any mere pain. It was a delicious pain anyway, one that she knew she would always remember, until her dying day, and she now melted into the hot embrace, her pussy screaming to have him plunder it, slither wetly back and forth into it, slam into it harder and harder, in a cosmic attempt to initiate her into the ranks of womanhood. She was his and she now told him so, when her pain passed.
"God, Fred, you bastard! God, that hurt!! ! "
But she hugged him and he knew that it was all right! He began to pump it into her, the veined shaft of his sensitive penis clasped tightly as though by a wildly working fist. The sensation was one that summoned vast quantities of his harmless orgasmic juice, semen without sperm, hot and sticky and the real item without the bomb, without the ingredient to produce that troublesome old ZYGOTE! His nuts were now going crazy, and they exploded their charge of hot, sticky cum, cum which raced headlong up the underside of his rapidly plunging prick.
Elaine was cumming too! She couldn't believe the fantastic tidal wave of sensuous pleasure that had built in her young, unfucked body, but when it came, frighteningly, she met it and accepted it. Working hard, she fucked back, knowing that one of the finest experiences in the world was upon her! God, stars were zooming at her, exploding inside her body, dynamiting her, making her fall to pieces. Such a thrilling experience was not-likely, she knew, but there it was! Her flood-gates burst and a hot, seething rush of her orgasmic fluid gushed out, steaming Fred's spurting cock as though it were a mere hot dog in a double-boiler. She shrieked.
"AAARRRRGGGHHHHH, OOOOOHHHHHH GOOODDD!"
"UUUURRRRRUUUHHHHH!! ! " Fred moaned, his body like Eskiltuna steel, arched against the quivering softness of the young goddess' body.
In a moment they both slumped into a post-orgasmic daze, oblivious to the fact that Don House got up nonchalantly, kicked over his bike, and purred very quietly down the rye-lined road toward the city.
Don knew that he had the goodies, everything he needed to set himself up as in impotent seducer.
CHAPTER FIVE
Shirley was alone. She sat in bed with a curled lip, hating the world. Karl had left, unable to cum twice. He had reamed her ass-hole until she was sure it would never be the same.
The stupid shit is as bad as Fred, she thought.
The sun was directly overhead and the kids were making noise in the other room. "Toonies" were over, and they were restless, wanting something to eat. She shook her head in annoyance and swung her shapely and smooth legs out of bed. This was the day that she had worried so much about yesterday. Damn, a bomb! Stupid Karl could only cum once, the shit-head!
She walked into the adjoining bathroom and bent to lift the hem of her blue negligee over her head. Off. Standing there, she looked at herself in the mirror. Small tits, she thought. Maybe I should take that Mark Eden Course. Aw, fuck it! I can get what I want with these little shits! Christ, what am I going to do?! Wrinkles. Damn! I'm growing old!
All I can hook is freaks like Karl and beat-out old farts who can hardly get it up! Goddamn it to hell! I'm so fucking sexy that I can hardly breathe! Where can I find something, someone, to fix me up?! Look at that goddamn stomach! It looks like an old-fashioned wash-board! All corrugated, but not hard. Plain old flab. But I'm not fat! A fat ass, yeah, but not fat, really. Skinny and fat, what a hell of a combination! Why can't I have tits like that bitch across the street, Marlys? Suppose Fred gets his nuts off when he thinks about that cow! Awwww, Fred can fuck off!
Thus thinking her pleasant thoughts about herself and everyone else, Shirley reached into the shower stall, twisted the single handle, and stood back, waiting for the proper temperature, seething inwardly because of her bitter frustration with any sexual encounter she had had for a very long time indeed. Her mood was such that it was lucky for the Koreans that they never captured her, or they would have been wiped out with sheer anger. She hated Fred, Karl, and every other man on earth at that minute, and she stepped into that hot shower, seething more than the scalding torrent.
Shirley knew that she was intelligent and good looking, but she just couldn't seem to click with a man sexually. She had to be fucked, and she realized that she well might be a slight nymphomaniac, even though, standing under the steaming cascade of scalding water, she shuddered at the thought of the horrible word. Nymph? Am I a nymph? God, I don't think so! I just want sex. I want--or at least wanted--to be a good wife and mother, but God, it's almost impossible!
Shirley had to receive her satisfaction, and she thought that it was possible, always, by chasing strange stuff, by having chance encounters with men she didn't know, didn't love, didn't care a damn about. True, the thought excited her, but the result was always like it was this morning, bitter frustration. She hated Karl, and she hated Fred. True, she knew that Fred had no part in her matinee fiasco, but she just hated him in principle. What little bit of affection they had felt for each other when she allowed him to make her pregnant had been eroded by the rains of years of tough matrimony, as happens so often between husbands and wives. She had often wished that she had hated him at first, so that emotion might have eroded, so that their relationship might have at least ameliorated. But no. Worms! The whole thing had turned to worms, so now when she thought about him, she thought about him lying peacefully in a coffin, releasing her from the hell that they had worked so hard to create.
She washed her hair three times with Breck, lathered her lithe body carefully with Palmolive Gold, rinsed, and washed again, rinsed, and reached for her rubber douche bag, which was always ready for a wash such as this. Filling it with warm water that mixed with her vinegar and organic cleanser, she stooped, held the bag away, inserted the small plastic prod into her cum-wet pussy, and tripped the small metal stopper so that her vagina was flushed with the warm gush of sanitizing and deodorizing liquid. It gave her a rush. She liked douches, and thought about being fucked by a horse each time that hot spew of liquid would shoot up into her voracious cunt.
Clean inside and out, she stepped from the shower enclosure and went to the vanity, where she had placed a thick, dry nubby material towel on the low bench. She looked at herself in the mirror once again and muttered. Sure, her face was one of classical beauty, with an aristocratic nose, high cheek-bones suitably accentuated, a fine chin, small ears close to her head, very large eyes, liquid and dark, a complexion that any model would envy. A long, graceful neck. But the tits! Small, and they sagged! Only twenty-nine, and the tits resembled two large fried eggs hanging from a washboard! She sighed audibly and reached for the other towel, patting herself dry. Her pussy burned for action and, as she dried, she wondered what she might do that afternoon. Maybe some young boy, one of Marlys' boys, those handsome little fuckers....
Her mind turned to other thoughts. What about wife-swapping--or, better, husband swapping? I wonder if there are any swapping clubs around here, what kind of wild fucking goes on there...? Probably just a bunch of pot-bellied old farts who want to look and feel, but who can't get it up or keep it up! Good God, where can a woman find a real man?! At a bar? SHIT! I feel like I could take ON THE WHOLE DAMNED UNIVERSITY FOOTBALL TEAM!
A knock on the door. Vance, the oldest Carlson child, ran down the steps and opened it. "Yes?" he asked, looking at a big guy about five years older than he was.
Don House smiled nervously. "Is your mother at home?" he asked, holding a suitcase-like apparatus.
"Yeah. C'mon in. She's in the bedroom. Just a minute." He ushered the boy in, showed him up, and then went, alone, down the hallway. "Mom," he called, opening the bedroom door, "there's some guy here to see you."
Shirley was thrilled. "All right, honey. Ask him to come in here, will you?"
"Sure thing, mom," Vance said. "Hey, kid; you can come here. My mom's in the bedroom."
Shirley threw a shift around her and held it, unbuttoned, wondering just who this visitor might be. Her hair was dry, protected from the tedious hours of wetness by a new high-speed dryer. Nevertheless, she had a scarf over it and, with her garment, she looked quite like she either had just come from bed or was ready to go back to bed.
Don wondered what the deal might be. It was well after noon, and she was still in the bedroom? He carried his VTR in, though, his knees almost collapsing under him. But he had to follow up the clue that Joanie gave him, about Fred's wife being a nymphomaniac. And the tape he could show her husband and the thirteen-year-old Elaine really ought to prime her. "DO IT!" Joannie had urged, knowing that her own purposes would be served if she could also record, on the same tape, a fuck-scene with Mrs. Carlson and a fifteen-year-old boy. Don entered the bedroom and looked around.
"Eeerrrr, ahem!" he uttered, nervous as hell.
Shirley floated out of the bathroom and stopped dead. "Who are you?" she asked, temporarily startled at the presence of such a young man. She had expected anything but this.
Don House couldn't believe his eyes. He knew that she was naked under that house-coat, and his cock immediately reacted by springing to rigid attention. His heart almost stopped, because he had never seen her, and thought, upon first sight, that she was without a doubt the sexiest woman he had ever seen. Young, he was still brash because his father was very rich, and he closed the door behind him after he collected his wits. Then he lowered his eyelids and surveyed the calm, attractive woman.
"My name, Mrs. Carlson, is House, Don House," he said.
"Well, Don, pull up the bed and sit down. What can I do with--eerrr,--for you --?" She smiled and moved liquidly toward the bed herself, sitting, making certain that her knees and a goodly portion of her perfectly formed leg showed as she crossed them under her robe. She patted the bed, taking the initiative.
He sat and gulped, his mouth suddenly dry. "Well, Mrs. Carl-"
"Shirley! Call me Shirley Don--! " she said.
" --son, I have something here that you might like to see." He began to open his case, the VTR, with the fresh tape. But his eyes flitted to her legs. Those perfect legs. My God, he could see almost up to there. He began to shake. Fifteen years old. He stole a glance at her, at her eyes. She was watching him, and their eyes met. He flinched. God, was he nervous!
Shirley smiled and leaned toward him. Her hand went out and she patted his knee indulgently, but then the patting stopped, and her soft, hot hand rested on his knee sinuously, seductively. Crazy as Fred ever was, she moved her hand slowly up his thigh.
"Holy Cow, Mrs. Carlson --!" he said. "Shirley!"
"Holy Cow, Shirley! Jeez!" he said.
"Come on, now, Donnie; just relax, all right?" Her hand slid up the corduroy material of his slacks, from the impersonal domain of his knee to that hot and exciting area of his upper thighs, where she knew he would be hot and burning. She shifted, moving her legs so that the robe opened even more. The devastating effect she was having on this well-built and good-looking young man titillated the lascivious and frustrated woman, and she went to uncommon lengths of forwardness to stimulate the young man, using her hands, her soft and very soothing voice, using her body by displaying it in such a way that he would necessarily become sexually aroused.
Shirley didn't know the reason for the young boy's visit, and she didn't really care. She had seen him at the supermarket on two or three visits there, and her reaction to him can only be described as being roughly similar to the reaction of a twenty-eight-year-old man, a vigorous and healthy man, upon seeing a very pretty young girl, stacked and swishing, dressed in a very tight sweater and very short miniskirt. In short, she was horny for him.
And now, sitting beside her, Don felt somewhat useless. He had a dynamite tape all set up in his expensive little recorder, but the wind seemed to stop, unbillowing his sails, just as that robe opened when she crossed her legs. His eyes involuntarily flitted down and his gaze welded to those two fantastically smooth and white limbs displayed for him. He realized that she was exposing herself for him, and his mouth went dry. He wondered if he should go on with his plan, or take advantage of the frame of mind of this very pretty middle-aged woman. As far as he was concerned, she was quite old--but then, he was used to girls in the twelve-to-fifteen age group, girls no older than he. Yet, there was an indefinable attraction that he could feel with his guts, and he knew that the attraction was sexual in nature. There was no denying it.
He was responding heatedly to the touch of her hand, hot up near his crotch, that hand that moved in slow, warm, sinuous circles, circles that promised to enlarge until the hand would undoubtedly touch his private parts. He held his breath. His hands were wet with excitement. God, what was this all about? Was she seducing him, when he had intended to use his well-filled tape machine to seduce her? Well, he thought, any port in a storm, and he put the machine on the floor, knowing that he would be able to put the film to good use later, both on the husband and on Elaine.
Sensible, Don knew that he didn't need an atomic bomb to kill a fly, so he relented and phased into the scene as easily as he could. The hot allure of this woman was demanding, and her intentions were unmistakable. She was horny, he could smell it. Her hand on his thigh was proof, her open robe was proof. Emboldened by this, he looked steadily at her now, and his hand went to the flap of her robe, which rested unbuttoned. He gently opened it, dropping his gaze. As his eyes saw her nakedness underneath, his suspicions were confirmed; she grasped his rock-hard penis.
"OH, JESUS!" Don grunted in disbelief, casting a glance toward the door.
"Lock it, Don," Shirley whispered breathlessly, releasing her grasp, excited by the size and rigidity of his protuberance. God, how she wanted to have this young boy, to experience the thrill of his young but virile body on hers, feel his nice hard penis thundering up into her clean, calling pussy!
Don lost no time locking the door, but he certainly did fumble with it, nervously shaking as he was. He was so excited by this unexpected turn of events that he could hardly control himself. Now, turning, he was astonished to see that Shirley had covered herself modestly, and was sitting primly on the edge of the bed with her two hands clutching the robe shut, her legs uncrossed, her knees tightly together under the protective material of the robe. What the hell? he wondered in roaring bewilderment.
"I want you to go into the bathroom until I call you," Shirley announced coolly, looking steadily at him without a trace of a smile.
This scared the shit out of Don. Was she going to call the police? Did she have a gun? Were they after him? Did they know of his evil intention to blackmail them? Would she tell them that he had lifted open the loose flap of her unbuttoned robe to peer at her naked breasts, her belly, that patch of auburn fur at the base of her white belly? Hell, she had made him do it! But would they believe it? Especially after he had come with his dad's VTR? Man, when they'd look at that tape, then everybody'd be in a peck of trouble, for sure! He looked at her, distress clear in his eyes and voice.
"W--w--why in the b--b--bathroom --?" he stuttered.
Shirley was tempted to smile but she didn't, noticing that she had frightened him. That was good. "Just go into the bathroom until I call you, will you please? It'll only be a minute or so. Oh, you can keep the door open, don't worry; but I don't want you to peek!"
With that, she turned away, and heard him walk slowly into the adjoining bathroom. She verified that he was out of the room, and threw off her robe. She knew good and well that he would be watching her. That was also good--for both of them, she thought.
Don was peering stealthily out at her, inquisitive as to what she was going to do. When he saw her throw her robe off and strut completely naked to the dresser, his cock began to pound and burn and itch. My God, she was going to dress! His hand went down to that itching lump in his pants and he squeezed it, trying to quell that annoying demand. It was too much! He had never seen a naked lady before, except in magazines. Now he could just run in and grab this one! But she might scream! What would he do then?
God, he would be thrown in jail as a sex pervert, ruined for life, all because she was parading around naked, him in the very next room, the door open. Hell, hadn't she told him to leave the door open? It wasn't his fault, you know! He was an innocent victim. Mouth dry, palms wet, he gaped in awe as he saw her rummage in a drawer and withdraw a black thing, which he could see was a brassiere. Damn, she was putting it on! Her slender shoulders hunched 'way forward and she hooked the thin back-band together with her hands. She was humming! Don shook his head in dismay, but his erection was pounding fuller and fuller of hot, itching blood, becoming so large and full that he was once again afraid that it would burst on him!
Gulping for a silent intake of air, he blinked the dryness from his hot eyes and watched as she fumbled in the drawer, still humming, and pulled out another black dead octopus of a garment, which she fastened around her smooth white waist. He had a clear shot of her backside, and his gaze was welded to her buttocks, those creamy white oblongs of sexy white flesh that were so exciting. Looking closely, he could see those hairs, even from behind, and he knew that her pussy was in there, right up between her legs, between those smooth and naked legs.
God, there just waiting to be fucked! He had seen some young pussies, on girls that he had played strip-poker with and spin the bottle with and post-office with and doctor and nurse with, but he had never seen a grown woman's pussy. He was frightened but also stimulated as hell, filled with carnal lust, with a burning passion to fall on her, to kiss her, to feel her tits, to fuck her!
AH! He realized what the new thing was when he saw her straighten it out. A garter belt! Man, did that look sexy! Those dangling black straps set off her white skin so much! Shit, he wished that he could tape that! What a show for the guys! This woman, dressing like that. He would have been able to pick up her crazy humming, too, the sound of the drawer opening, the cars going by outside. Yeah, even the labored sound of his breathing, damn it!
Shirley knew exactly what she was doing, and she hummed merrily as she dressed, fully aware that the kid in the next room was watching her. Her brassiere was a necessity, since she knew that it enhanced her sexiness. If he wants to feel me, then he's going to have to feel me in this bra! she said to herself.
Hardly able to contain himself, Don rubbed his burning penis in a slow, rhythmic motion, hoping all the while that he wouldn't shoot off in his pants as he had done one other time while looking at this woman on the bus. Oh, he masturbated a lot, but then what young boy doesn't? He knew that it was bullshit about masturbation making a guy crazy, about hair growing on your hand, about it bending a guy's dick. All those tailors are nuts as hell, he said to himself, rubbing all the while, asking if a guy is right-or left-handed! Man, the dink normally goes to the left for a right-handed guy, to the right for a left-handed guy. Any fool knows that!
Glancing more boldly into the room, Don watched as the woman pulled out a pair of nylons and went to the bed, sat, and put one of the stockings beside her. My God, isn't she going to put panties on?? ? She lifted a leg and placed the bunched-up doughnut of dark brown nylon at the very tips of her toes, worked it, and then pulled it up so that her shapely calf was encased with the darker sheen of the stocking. She pulled it all the way up, still humming some song that Don didn't know. Then, as he watched, she repeated the moves with her other leg, looking so damned sexy that Don wasn't sure that he would be able to control himself. Wow, he didn't know if he was going to cum right in his pants or rush out into that room, throw her on her back on the bed there, and fuck the living shit out of her. My God, she certainly deserved it, because she was really asking for it!
Any woman who would put a kid in an open bathroom and screw around dressing right in plain sight was clearly asking to get herself fucked, asking for trouble. Don was only a kid in high school, but he could realize that!
He ducked back quickly as she stood. Shit, it wouldn't do at all to let her see him peeping at her. And, God, was his cock ready to shoot! Oh, it would have been so good to just give it one last squeeze! But that cool sticky mess in his pants! His mother would wash his shorts and know. "Don, what did you do in your underpants?" Oh, no! Not that! He had to touch it, though, stroke it just to keep it satisfied. Was it all over, though? Was she dressing, and then was she going to leave? To do something bad, like haul out a gun and then call the kids in, call the police? These paranoid thoughts obsessed Don, who was so lusty that he could have fainted. Never had he seen anything to match this!
Shirley was well aware that she was driving him slowly crazy.
She carefully hooked the top welts of her dark nylons to the black elastic bands of her garter-belt, bending over so that she knew he was enjoying an unexcelled beaver-shot. Knowing that he was seeing her cunt and ass-hole gave her some inexplicable pleasure, made her cunt become wet in anticipation of the foul and rotten perversions that she planned for her captive. But she wanted him to be ravenous, like a starving man fetched from the stark and dry sands of the burning Sahara, like some wild man captured in the blazing interior of Australia's Outback, like an animal, sex-mad, insane with withering lust, driven to almost brutal excesses by carnal desire. Yes, she knew that this was her golden opportunity for a bit of heavy sex, to do some imagine fornication with him, to teach him all facets of competent coitus! She was fucking his mind now, and then she was going to fuck his body! IT WAS SHE WHO WAS GOING TO BE ON TOP, BY GEORGE!
She was going to fuck the boy silly, and if he squawked, then, damn it, she would cry "RAPE!" A slow smile crossed her sensuous and expressive face. MMMmmmmmm, yes, I'll nail that little devil but good, and hell be-at my back door until the day I die! Thinking these lewd thoughts the horny woman walked to the closet and selected a dress. It was silk, very, very nice, and not too very short. Beige, with brown and black flowers, of all things. She stepped into it, pulled it up, still not wearing any underpants, and fit her arms into the sleeves, which were long. Then she reached back and zipped the skirt up. Once more she entered the closet, and bent, careful once again to bend so far that the hem of her dress rode up over the clear white orbs of her smooth buttocks, revealing her plumbing to the eagerly lustful eyes of the secreted voyeurist, Don.
Shit!! he thought, look at that! Christ, I'm going to cum if she doesn't knock that stuff off! Looking as though he were a scientist, he could see the hair-fringed lips of her sex-furrow, the pink of the cunt itself, the pink-brown knot of her ass-hole, every last detail! God, how he wanted to run up behind her and sock it to her as she bent over like that. Man, it was all there, ready to be had. Looking closely, he could discern glistening droplets of cuntal lubricating oil; he knew that he could check that oil very excitingly with his dip-stick, that hard and throbbing sword that needed a cunt so badly now.
Shirley then did something that almost knocked Don out. She walked to the bed and began making it, smoothing out the sheets and blankets, bending obscenely. When the bed was made she smiled and threw herself onto it, lying on her back, her legs slightly parted. Oh, mother! Don's cock shot off a drop of sperm in its fantastic agitation! Was she going to play sleeping VICTIM? Was she conning him into a mock rape, a mock seduction? Was she going to lie on the bed as though sleeping, allowing him to steal up as though in darkness, as though he had come through the rear window, to very softly touch her, lift the hem of that dress, gaze at her exposed and defenseless pussy, touch those tits, see that ass-hole, touch it, stick his finger in it? How far could he go before she would play that she woke up? Good God, the infernal woman was obscene!
Well, that's what she was going to do. She suppressed a smile as she stretched out sybaritically on her back, her entire body tingling with anticipation as she thought about the slow and unsure advance of the nervous boy standing in the bathroom. She knew for a fact that he had been watching her, that he had a monster hard-on, that he was hornier than a goat. She had staged it with the big tease, but it was an unstrip-tease, worked backward because the next strip-tease was the pay-off, the big deal! Ooohhhh, yes!
Now she waited, her hungry body thrumming eagerly. She closed her eyes lightly, breathed slowly, confident that the door was locked, that Don would come, that he would peer at her, touch her very lightly copping a feel here and there, that he would hike up the hem of her light dress, that he would increase his already roaring sexuality by examining her pussy, touch it, maybe kiss it. Oh, God, what a great afternoon it was turning out to be!
Don, witnessing what she had done, was confused and frightened. He balked, wanted to creep into the room and gaze upon the reposing form of the foxy lady, feed his hot and hungry eyes on her luxurious form, explore her flesh that he had just seen, that mysterious and alluring form of utter sexuality that had been so secretively displayed for him only moments earlier. God, how he wanted to! But what would she do?! Would she scream out? And why didn't she call him, like she said she would? Why didn't she?
Don's cock was burning now, and drop after drop of seminal fluid seeped irresistibly out from the tiny slit at the very tip of his hard, rose-colored glans. Jesus Christ, it was too much to bear! That nasty woman was playing games with him, he just knew it! He knew it, and this steeled him! He became bold again, and ventured forth into that exciting room where the woman lay, fully clothed, on that huge bed. He unzipped his fly in a gesture of defiance, knowing that this was it! Man, he had to fuck her. Wild! What a deal to tell the guys about! Tell them? Shit-fire! He crept to his VTR and opened it, pulled out a fresh tape, threaded the reels, and focused the camera on the bed, checking the F-stops and audio. Yes sir! This was going to be something that he could sell, but he could only sell views, not the tape!
Little did he know that Joannie had triggered her dad's cassette, which was purring happily under the bed, picking up every noise since he entered that house!
Then, everything all set, he leered crookedly and advanced on feet of cotton toward the reclining form of the woman who he really preferred to think was actually asleep. Imagine his delight! It was just like some kind of forbidden rape! Goddamn! Imagine being in a room with a woman on her back on a bed, breathing calmly, eyes closed, sound asleep, not wearing panties! God, high-heeled shoes and all! MOTHER-FUCK! That's what Don thought, because this lewd woman was about old enough to be his old lady. Creeping ever so quietly, Don went to the foot of the bed and bent, squinting up the darkness between the woman's legs, trying to achieve a glimpse of her bare pussy. Oh, wow! God, the hem was about six inches above her knees. He wanted to throw himself onto her, to just fuck her to relieve that internal tension, to fulfill himself! But no, she might cry out! Was she really playing a game? Maybe she was taking a nap! Balls, that was possible! Sure, she was taking a nap! A lewd rush of salacious lugubriousness filled him, and he moved around to the side of the bed, struggling to control his breathing. God, did his breath come hard!
Now, standing above her, he gazed down at the woman, watching those mounds of her breasts as they rose and fell, as she breathed so easily. The temptation to reach out and touch her was great, but Don resisted, merely stroking his exposed penis slowly. Moving slowly toward her legs, he knelt on the carpet and slowly reached toward the hem of that dress, his hand shaking like a leaf. HE TOUCHED IT! God, he was about to pass out from sheer excitement!
Quivering, his blood thick as cold molasses but hotter than bubbling oil, Don lifted that hem slowly, his eyes burning as he saw more and more of her creamy white thighs come into view. He knew, he remembered, that she wasn't wearing underpants! God, he pulled that hem up until the part she was lying on stopped further raising, and when the material was as high as it would go, he lifted it up and then bent and peered up at her crotch. Good God, he saw it! There it was, her pussy, all hairy, a slit, with pink lips, nestled there between the marble-like smoothness of her legs! He wanted to touch it, to smell it, to know everything about it. Shaking, he bent very close and inhaled, his mind reeling. Oh, it smelled just wonderful! Unable to resist, he brushed that thicket of curly brown hair with his lips, experimenting like any adolescent boy may do.
Just as his lips brushed the bush, Shirley moaned and turned over, wriggling and facing him. As she turned, Don moved quickly away, but then he took advantage of her movement to hoist her dress up so that it was bunched up around her waist. He watched her face the whole while, and she really did seem to be sleeping! He was beginning to believe that she was nuts or something! One thing for sure, he was going to take advantage of it, use every wonderful second of this precious time to explore her, until she might wake up. When she woke up, well, he intended to deal with that when the time came! Emboldened by this all-out view of her cunt, Don walked around the bed and looked closely at her smooth white buttocks and the crease between them. My God, was that something.
He was burning to touch her, and placed the tip of one of his fingers on one of those cool orbs of fanny flesh, prodding until he was sure she might wake up. Nothing! More brash now that he had achieved no reaction, he pushed her over so that she was on her belly. She yielded easily, as though in a drugged sleep. Throbbing with sexual desire, he pulled one of her limp legs away from the other so that her legs were lewdly parted and her entire cunt was exposed, visible right below the creamy smooth globes of her buttocks. What a sight! Unable to resist, he put a hand there, and spread those hair-lined labia with the thumb and forefinger, peering into those moist pink folds of her cuntal hole until another hot drop of his youthful sperm pressed out from that quivering slit at the very tip of his bursting glans. How he wanted to jab that hard rod of desire right into her cunt, into that moist and warm cave of satisfying pink flesh open there beneath her relaxed buttocks. It was almost too much for him to bear, just looking! He wanted to put his tongue against those delicious-looking coral convolutions of sex-flesh, and he bent close, inhaled the scent of clean cunt, and pointed his wet tongue experimentally, advancing.
My God, Shirley thought, He's going to eat me! And from behind! She wriggled as though sleeping, trying to become more comfortable while dreaming, and managed to spread her legs even more to allow him easy access to those parts of her that she loved to have touched and kissed, fingered, licked, fucked.
Don waited and, when she had settled down, he leaned back for another close look at her. By God, he thought, If she's playing a game, I'll play it with her. This is fun!
His fingers, calmer this time, went to her pussy, and he once again opened those delicate folds of her hair-lined vagina. Now he was strong and bold, desirous to know more, and he bent forward, his tongue aching to delve into the buttery depths of her honey-pot. It was so strange, so forbidden and lewd, so wonderful! His tongue went forward, his nose brushed the perfumed muff of her fluffy and clean pubic thatch, and the tongue speared the edge of those delicate petals of sensual flesh. The thrills that shook him! Here he was, only a high-school kid, and he was eating an older woman as she lay on her stomach in her very own house. God, it was something else!
His hands went softly from the bed to the yielding pliancy of her smooth, white buttocks, and he positioned himself comfortably on the bed, on his stomach, between her lewdly spread legs. God, he thought, this tape! He could just imagine it, showing the tape of him eating this rich bitch, her lying there asleep, knowing nothing. Why, he would be a real hero, even though the guys in his crowd already knew that he was an accomplished ass-bandit! This would cinch it, though, for sure!
Shirley had a hard time keeping still. God, the kid was putting his tongue against her bottom so softly that it was driving her up the wall, making her want to throw her legs over his shoulders, around his neck, clasping his head and pulling it tightly against that hot and voracious little pussy of hers that demanded so much attention. But she just couldn't! The sensation of his lascivious ministrations were giving her the thrill of the century!
Don pulled away, savoring the delicious flavor of the cuntal oil he had withdrawn from her hole. He looked closely at her bottom, examining every detail of her cunt. It was the ugliest sonofabitching thing he had ever seen, like a colored oyster. But, yet, there was something about it, something alluring, demanding, so, ugly or not, he kissed it, knowing that it didn't have to look like her face. God, if it did, he might have fainted! He speared his tongue into the pungent folds and withdrew it, savored that delicious broth, and then he lapped her entire bottom, starting above her ass-hole and going down slowly, letting his hot and excited tongue explore every little fold and flavor there.
It was too much for Shirley, who moaned and writhed. God, she thought, this kid is great! I have to get into him!
She slowly moved her legs, and her hands went down to his head. She held him lightly, moaning in ecstasy as he tongued her cunt.
"AAAHHHHHHHMMMMMMMM!! ! ! " and then she quickly threw her legs around his head and pulled his face hard down against the burning flesh of her erotically aroused crotch. Jesus, but did she need him! Her delicate cuntal parts were burning for his touch, and she had to have more, have him harder, and by God she took the initiative, grasping his unwary head in a leg-scissors.
This move naturally startled Don, who struggled to free himself. But not too hard. He realized that the jig was up, that he had made the woman wake up, and he was rather glad that she didn't scream out for help, call her kids, call the police! His face was pressed right against her cunt, and he loved it, actually. So he sucked and lapped, knowing full well that she knew now that he was there, engaging in sexual activities with her! Oh, well!
Shirley was boiling over. She was hoping that this boy might be the one to satisfy that fantastically strong sex-drive in her body. Unable to hold off any longer, she released him, her entire body disintegrated by the lascivious lappings and prurient probing of his titillating tongue. "God!" she cried, "hold on for a minute!"
Now Don was brought back to reality. He knew that something was about to happen, but he didn't know exactly what. He was scared as hell, and his penis deflated as though it had been punctured by an ice-pick.
CHAPTER SIX
Breathless, Shirley ran her fingers through the soft, clean tresses of her shining auburn hair. Her eyes were watering with desire that bordered on insane wolfishness. Her small but fetching breasts heaved, rising and falling as she looked uncertainly at the bewildered young man beside her. Mustering up enough voice to speak, she said: "Don, honey, I want to play with you--may I?"
A crooked frown covered his boyish features. "Hunh?" he asked.
"I said," repeated Shirley in a low and languorous voice, "I want to play with you.' " Her gaze fell to the pink of his penis that was only just visible in the rumpled opening of his fly. Her tongue flicked wetly across her emotion-dried lips, those full and expressive lips that men were so quick to notice and dream about.
"Play with me?" he echoed in a surprised croak, his voice breaking like many teen-agers' voices do under stress.
"Just lie back, honey, and let me do something for you, to you. Just relax for a while, mamma will take good care of you," she said.
Stunned, Don did as he was told, and stretched out on his back on the sumptuous bed. He eyed Shirley warily, wondering what she was about to do with him, what that 'playing' might amount to. It took him no time to find out.
Shirley smiled in that indulgent way of hers and moved close to him. Once again her tongue flicked across her sensuous lips, making them glisten invitingly. She glanced at Don and her smile broadened. God, what a nice way to spend an afternoon! Her eyes then went once again to his penis, that little pinkish white thumb of covered flesh. Bending low, she reached for his belt buckle, undid it, and then she fumbled with the button on his slacks. It was tight, and she could feel him cooperate by pulling in his lean and hard stomach. It came undone, and she lovingly spread the two sides of his fly apart, revealing more of that sex organ. Still not satisfied, she asked him to raise himself. When he arched, she pulled his trousers down to his thighs, and then pulled the white boxer shorts down too. Now she was able to see everything, his entire set of genitals, and a rush of liquid fire possessed her.
The foreskin was all the way down, shrouding his glans easily. He had a nice crop of light pubic hair, just slightly darker than his light blonde hair. His testicles hung easily, loosely, the skin of his generous scrotum still darker than that of the limp penis. The sight of that nice equipment thrilled Shirley, and she nimbly bent and placed a small dry kiss on that foreskin, inhaling the pungent scent of his sex as she did. The heady aroma was so very exciting to her that she thought she might burst. Making herself comfortable, she spread out on her stomach, between his out-stretched legs. Propping herself on her elbows, she gazed at his genitalia for a few seconds, contemplating the beauty they represented to her.
They called to her with their youthful smoothness, promising unspoken pleasures to her, she knew, if she would treat them right, if she treated them the way she wanted to so badly. Which woman wouldn't respect such a lovely penis, such alluring testicles? It would certainly be a most gross crime to ignore such beautiful and sweet organs, to just rush blindly, thoughtlessly, into a sexual encounter without first lavishing some form of respectful worship on them. Then, too, she WANTED to kiss them, fondle them, suck and taste them, know them. For her own benefit.
Don's body tightened like a steel rail when Shirley's lithe fingers went to his burning groin and coolly fondled his gonads and the soft scrotum that was so excited. He quivered with ecstatic delight as she blew a stream of cool air on them, and his penis began to fill slowly, twitching as it did. He had to hold himself in rigid check to keep from grasping her head and pulling it roughly toward his burning loins. God, how he wanted her to just take a big mouthful of him and suck and suck! No girl had ever given him a real blow-job, bringing him all the way. Oh, he had heard about it being done, but he never had experienced such a sexy thing himself. Now he was determined to have her do it, but he couldn't push; she might do something even better! As it was, he writhed and sighed because it was all so fine.
Shirley would have smiled if she would have known exactly what was going on in the youngster's mind! Bring him all the way? Take his cum into her mouth and swallow it? HAH!
Patient but still burning, she began to play with him, her gently caressing fingers raising welts of cold fire under the skin of his scrotum. His gonads were expanding in intuitive anticipation, tingling as though some delicious current of erotic electricity were motivating them. Oh, it felt so fine that he moaned.
"OOOooooooohhhhhhhh, wowwww, that feels so good!"
This made Shirley smile. He liked it. She blew him a kiss and said, "Just relax, my new young friend; I'll make you feel like a real man! Just relax, close your eyes, and enjoy." And then she whispered, "Enjoyyyyyyyy---"
That was rather like telling a cat to enjoy a nice filet of fish.
She placed a small kiss on his penis, which she now cradled so tenderly in one of her cool, steady hands. Her own passion had given way to a supreme desire to see him writhe, to make him as big as he could get; then she would bounce back, ready to let him fuck her, gratify himself inside her belly just as she knew he wanted to.
The taste and scent made hot rivers course through her, and she nuzzled the smoothness of his foreskin with her lips, teasing him. Then, slowly, she opened her mouth while still caressing his balls with her other hand, and she exhaled hotly right against the shrouded glans, heating it with uncooled breath from her hot breast.
This made Don's mind reel! "OOOhhhhh, GOD!" he groaned, certain that she had burned him with that hot breath.
"MMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmm...." Shirley took the still-limp penis' glans into her mouth slowly, feeding it in just a bit. Then she closed her lips very softly, slipping her raspberry tongue very sensuously up between the rubbery-like glans and the loose foreskin, her tongue wedged there in such a way that Don saw stars and thought he might shoot off. He tensed.
Shirley pulled away and chuckled. "Just hold it," she advised him. "We have a long ways to go yet!" This promise made him whimper.
Shirley had played with a penis or two, but never one on a young boy like Don. The sensation of illicit sex was one that added to the overall intrigue, lewd as it was. She had no real fear of punishment. After all, how many housewives are arraigned for child-molesting? How many horny housewives are sent-up for raping innocent young high school boys? None, that's how many, none! It just doesn't happen, and she knew it! She knew that fifteen-year-old boys were regular sex machines, and she now had a super-hung prize of a young stud. She was going to bend him like a pretzel and make him so happy that he would think of her if he made love to any girl, no matter how young or beautiful! Yes, she was going to suck him silly, and then fuck him silly! Be on top, be ruthless and imagine, be extreme, inventive, insatiable!
Had Don known this it's hard telling what he would do. He may have jumped her, or he may have run out, or, again, he may have gone to sleep, to wait for his orgasm. But he wanted to touch her, and he reached down and brazenly cupped Shirley's yielding breasts, once again heaving an audible sigh of pleasure.
Shirley leaned forward once again and picked at his foreskin. Pulling it slowly back, she peered closely at the corduroy texture of his rose-colored knob, smiling warmly at its cleanliness. She turned the skin back, her heart pounding, her pussy determined to boil like the core of an active volcano. The pink tip of her tongue flicked out and speared that turned-back skin, and she moaned as the sensitive taste-buds registered the flavor of his youthful but certainly masculine sex. She pulled his legs closer together and rubbed her intensely agitated body sinuously against them, almost delirious for maximum contact with this fine young god of a man. She admired his firm smoothness. He was no hairy ape like Fred or Karl. He was a bronze god, almost hairless but for his armpits and pubis. And she brushed her lips slowly through that man-scented bush of golden-blonde hair, savoring the fineness of the youthful curls.
Unable to contain herself, she thrust his penis into her mouth, trying to devour it, trying to press her lips against that hair-on-skin-on-hard bone. All the way in! It went into her mouth, and the sensation made her quiver with erotic arousal. God, she tongued it and ground her teeth down on the spongy-textured mass of hot and throbbing masculinity. What fulfillment! Shirley could have sobbed with keen, cutting happiness! Sure, there was no love, but who needed love? Sex was an end in itself, always has been, always will be--hopefully, she thought, hopefully.
Don cried out in despair and delight. "Oh, SWEET JESUS!"
Her mouth full, Shirley smiled. Ah, he-likes this. Isn't that nice? There's all he wants here, any time, any time.
And the tape-recorder whirred happily on....
The rich flavor of his organ seemed to fill Shirley's breast, making that bosom swell with womanly fulfillment. She thought that this was certainly one of the key-note experiences of her insatiable search for erotic gratification! Those meager and stingy orgasms that she had managed at the hands of her numerous male suitors just amounted to nothing, or less than nothing. Now, while ministering unto this youth, she had the visceral conviction that she was on the verge of living through a fantastic experience. She was very ready.
Pulling away, she once again looked at his slowly expanding penis. The veins were becoming dark blue as the oxygenated blood coursed into the shaft, suffusing the capillaries with rich and hot blood, thickened by that magical catalyst of sex. It was becoming hard and thick, expanding to an admirable size, a length and thickness that the connoisseur Shirley could appreciate. "OOOOHHHHH, you wonderful, wonderful thing, you! God, how I love you!" She planted kiss after kiss on the now-bulging knob, her heart pounding, her cheeks a high-red, her entire spirit keyed on things that only related to the moment, to the supreme experience of hot and heavy sex with a virile and clean young boy. God, was she happy! And God, was she not! She could have burst from the hot pressure pounding inside her eager and sexy body. This was life, and she knew it!! !
She couldn't lavish enough affection on Don's rapidly hardening penis, and she covered that lust-hardened shaft with thousands of kisses, kisses thrust from the very center of her boiling stomach, where that hot ball of sex burned like the implosion-ball of a thermo-nuclear blast. That penis was the only important facet of her reality. She saw it, held it, watched it grow, kissed it, loved it, wanted to devour it, ovaled her lips, dipped breathlessly down, and took it in once again, tasting the tangy manhood secreted through the tightly stretched skin. Now that soft foreskin was tight and almost bright red, as though the tip of his stalk of male flesh were in actuality as hot as a branding iron, his seminal fluids were secreting, and Shirley's wildly working tongue lapped and slavered madly, trying to collect every lust-inciting atom!
Minor explosions were making her arms and legs twitch spasmodically. Her mind knew nothing now but the warmth of his legs against her craving body, the keen, heady sensation of his male sex organ in her tenderly sucking mouth, the intense sex of the taste of his glans and shaft, the scent wafting up from his tingling gonads and now-tight scrotum, the feeling in her fingers as she fondled that wrinkled pouch of wonder-working walnuts, the feeling in her fingers as she gripped the very base of his hot and throbbing shaft as she held it so desperately.
GOD NO, LADY! Don silently screamed, DON'T DO IT! CHRIST, I'M GONNA CUM! A A A R RRRGGGGGHHHHHH, SHITTTT, I'M GONNNNNNA CUMMMMM, I'M CCCUUUUMMMMIIIINNNNNGGGGG!!
Shirley knew it, and she exerted maximum vacuum, sucking on the lobe of his sex-hard cock until she thought she'd faint. CUM, DAMN IT, CUM! she telegraphed to him, wanting to suck every drop of his precious cum from that crazily pounding cock of his. God, she began to thrust her head up and down on it like mad, rasping her clean, even teeth over the ridged and veined shaft of his blood-engorged protuberance. She pressed her tongue down as hard as she could, knowing that she could take him all the way. She had mastered the gag reflex, and this was the time to prove it! God, that steel-like prick was hot, and it shot past her tonsils like butter through a froster's funnel! Her own excitement was such that her pussy was exploding! Jesus, the thought of such a beautiful penis shooting off into her mouth was enough to make her cum!
She grasped his exploding nuts and ground them together as though she hated them, stopping just short of hurting him but doing it hard enough to let him REALLY know that she was there!
" A A ARRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!! ! " the unstrung young lad cried, writhing. His gonads exploded, shooting a hot gush of wildly rushing sperm mixed with succulent male vehicle up that slick tunnel under his lugubriously sucked shaft and shot it deeply into the dark and hot recesses of her wildly sucking gullet, searing her membranes with that steaming spew of his masculine gift.
Shirley went cross-eyed, and her pussy just plain exploded in a monster orgasm that threatened to kill her.
" N N MMM N UMNUMNUMNUMMMM!! ! " she groaned, as those repeated surges of delicious sperm shot into her thirstily sucking throat. She threw her arms around his bare legs and hugged them, feeling the smooth skin but hard and tense muscles under that skin, hugged those legs desperately as she cried out in the excitement of her own erotically ecstatic orgasm.
"OOOOHHHHHHHH!! ! SHIT!! ! " Don cried, throwing his legs around her upper torso and scissoring them tightly together. His whole body was disintegrating, and he knew that he had a fabulous thing going with this soft and beautiful young woman. God, what a wild orgasm he was having! He cried like an insane baby, unmindful of anything but his open release. Sssooooo very, very good!
Shirley took it, swallowed it, fell limp on his pubis, and let out a sigh of infinite gladness. Lordy, was she happy! She could have gone to sleep right then! Her lips gently kissed that penis while her hands loosened their torrid grip on his steel-hard thighs.
Everything seemed to deflate, as though they had slowly peeled their toy balloon. It didn't pop, it just hissssssed down.
AAAHHHHH, what ecstasy! They were in love, and no man on this green earth had the papers to say that they weren't.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Fred and Elaine sat in his glossy black Cadillac Fleetwood, at an A&W root beer stand, waiting for their order. If Fred would have had his way, which he could have, they would have gone to the Chateau de Paris or maybe Charlie's Cafe Exceptionale. But no. It was an orange and black root beer stand, a concession to budding youth.
Charlie's, it should be mentioned, is a very good place.
But, despite the decor, Fred was happy. He wanted to impress his new lover, certainly. He really wanted her to think that he was God. He wanted her to love him, to be UNABLE to exist without his love. But, they sat in a dusty A&W root beer driveway, semis and busses and ordinary cars whizzing by on the highway a few yards behind them.
Love. Their eyes locked together and they smiled. Always, they smiled. Sharing some precious gift of unbuyable value.
His hand covered hers, on his knee.
It would not be possible to discuss their gladness at that minute.
Fred did have a twinge of remorse about poisoning his lovely young bird with a quarter of a pound of A&W hamburger, but he knew that she would survive it; after all, babies are strong. Her dark eyes fascinated him, and he saw her and felt her with his guts.
She, for her part, felt something serene and peaceful. God, she was so happy and relaxed! She wondered how it was possible that she could rate a guy like Mr. Carlson--Fred. Her body wanted to touch his, her mind allowed that despite the noise of guilt screaming.
Fred was one of those Americans who required love since he had never been loved. like many people, he sought love in ways impossible, in places most unlikely, with people unable to love. His whole life had been a testament to that unfortunate group of corollaries. But now he thought that he had the genuine article, true love, love eternal, love that verged on holy, fervent adulation. And he was certain that he could feel the sweet reciprocation from the lovely young Elaine, whose dark eyes made him tingle when they flashed at him so hotly. Her lips had been like pillows of love's yielding touch, her arms had clutched him, her pussy had caressed his own male organ that he shared with her.
Everything had been perfect, the very culmination of love's promise. And then the acne-faced car-hop came out with the hamburgers and French fries and root beers, effectively peeling that toy balloon by turning the attention of Elaine and Fred to the unfortunate fare.
Fred tossed the girl a perfunctory "Thanks" and paid, leaving an over-large tip for the poor farm-girl with the erupting face. He lost his appetite, and stabbed the ignition key in and twisted it. In a few seconds they were flashing back toward town, David Clayton Thomas singing something about a girl named Susy with Blood, Sweat and Tears, the New York rock group. Elaine had tuned the FM stereo to the local rock station, and the message seemed to flood the interior of the car like wistful and sweet warmth.
"Why don't we get together?" Thomas sang, having noticed that the object of his own affection seemed to be languishing, sitting around and crying all day as she did. Fred didn't know a single person named Susy, and he was thinking, listening, that he hoped he never would. Elaine was enough for him, that butter-ball of erotic young womanhood next to him. God, she was the woman of eternity, the very personification of perfection in flesh! Yes, he thought that he loved her. He did, quite possibly. Certainly he did, at the time.
And Elaine loved him, or so she thought. Munching happily on her hamburger, she listened to the music, thought about how silly the weeping Susy was, and thought about how happy she was. Her poor bottom burned, but not for sex; from sex, though. It was sore from her morning with her lover. It hurt and burned, but it was somehow a fulfilling hurt. She felt like a complete woman. They drove together back to the city, Elaine sitting hotly beside Fred after the food was gone. Her hand rested easily on Fred's thigh, making Fred feel happy as a snail. His emotions rippled like a luffing sail on an X boat.
They arrived at the site, and Fred handed her out of the car to explain the technicalities of the excavation.
Even though everything was perfect, an indefinable unhappiness began to creep through him. He thought about the strain on another relationship, one which would give him certain pleasure but one which would consume his time, present legal problems, and one which would, in all probability, turn to worms just as all the rest had. Also, he was unhappy about the prospect of leaving Elaine, that nice young girl who, at that minute, meant so much to him. It was a cosmic futility that flooded him, one that wearied his arms and legs, making them feel as though they weighed tons.
The sun was still high and warm, the yellow-green of the newly sprouted leaves were cheerful enough, and birds flew busily and gaily overhead. Young Elaine stood very close and smelled good. His pocket contained a lot of money. Everything should have been fine.
It wasn't fine.
"Listen," he said, knowing that it had to be said, "I'd better beat it. When can I see you again?"
Elaine's heart stopped and a tornado of emotion ravaged her spirit. "Why go? I don't have to be home yet. I can tell my parents that I'm going to stay with a friend. Fred...? " She was almost crying, and her breasts ached.
Remorse and guilt were overwhelming Fred. He thought about the three kids, about his family, about the injustice of what he had done. What if Shirley were to conduct herself like this? he asked himself, wincing at the cutting pang that possibility caused. He didn't have an overabundance of affection for his wife, but he did love the kids, and he clearly realized that he couldn't be a father to the kids without being a husband to their mother, difficult as that was. Each prize has its price. The immense prize of his children was certainly loaded with an enormous price!
He was returned to the moment by a touch by Elaine's hand on his. Blinking, he looked at her, distracted and somewhat ruffled. "Hunh?"
Pouting, Elaine said, "What's the matter with you? You don't seem like the same person you were a while ago!" She was cross.
"MMMmmmm," Fred hummed, and said, "just thinking about things. About the kids. The family. If we're really in love, I was just wondering what would become of the family, of the kids--you know."
Elaine scoffed at this. "Good God, are you kidding?"
Upset by her flippancy, Fred asked, "What do you mean? Of course I'm not kidding!"
"Look," said Elaine, "your wife is an incredible whore! She'd screw anything in pants, don't you know?"
"I've heard," he replied absently, gazing at the trees and fishing a cigarette from his pocket. Yes, he'd heard, from Joannie and from his mother and from his sister and from his close friends. "I've heard. So what?"
"So what?? ? Fred, you're worried about divorce or something just because you are having an affair with me, and your wife is screwing like a mink? You've got to be kidding!"
Saying this, Elaine shook her head and walked a few steps away from him in apparent disgust.
Fred shrugged and took a deep drag, shutting off very effectively from any stark realization that his wife may be screwing. A slow and ironic smile captured his tanned face. Sure, he thought, I screw. But, damn it, the thought of her doing it cuts me badly! And it did, of course. What man can bear to imagine his wife in the arms of another man? What man can tolerate the image of his own wife naked in bed with a stranger, her tongue in his mouth, her wet vagina lewdly accepting his penis! God, that's a toughie! Even for the most broad-minded man, for the most liberal of amoralists!
But, he argued with himself, Elaine is right. If I screw, my wife ought to be able to. So long as she doesn't become pregnant. Aw, shit, it's too ugly to think about! But yet, he continued, my thing with Elaine here is beautiful, I think. It fills me with something that I can't find elsewhere, something that Shirley certainly can t provide. Is it that way with her? Is that why she is--or might possibly be--promiscuous?
The painful argument raged on in his boggled mind, and Fred wished that it could be dealt with like calculations of soil-bearing capacity or span determinations, with the simple and direct medium of unerring mathematics.
Elaine, a product of the new morality, couldn't believe how dense the man was. She loved him, adored him, in fact, but she could still see how dumb he was. Stupid, in a functional sense. She didn't want to marry him, she just wanted to be with him all she could. She had no respect for Shirley, and used the term "whore" only to lessen Fred's respect for that person. But, naive or sophisticated, Elaine could not understand the arguments in favor of monogamous virtue. They seemed to have no bearing on feelings, which was what affection and love were all about.
All she knew was that her body burned to touch Fred's, despite any drawbacks such as illegality, public scorn, or the obvious age difference. She wondered what she might do if she came to feel that way about some other person while still involved with Fred. Pondering this, she smiled. He'll probably flip, she concluded, and walked to him.
"Come on, you boob!" she said, smiling. "It's a nice day for something. Why not take me to your house? I'd like to see the expression on Shirley's face when I walk in. And don't worry, I am not the one to let on about us. We'll just tell her that I wanted to see your place, that I was at the lot here and we talked, okay?"
Sighing, Fred agreed. "All right," said he, moving off toward the car beside the darkly beautiful and cuttingly brazen little girl.
The drive only took a minute, and Fred pulled the quiet car into the driveway, glad to notice that his parents were not visiting.
"This is it," he announced, shutting the engine off and sitting back as though bracing himself for a rough encounter. That house, even though it was stunningly attractive, represented capture and capitulation to him. It was, as far as he was concerned, everything a house should be and nothing a home should be. It was a well-designed battle-field, an unhappy place, a place of less security than the woods or centerline of an Italian highway. The thought of achieving even a morsel of happiness or tranquility in that house forced a gush of wind up from Fred's lungs, and he snickered dryly in involuntary humor.
"What's funny?" Elaine asked.
"Oh, just thinking what a God forsaken dump this is...."
"It's a beautiful house--! "
"Correction, it's a hideous house! It's worse than Auschwitz, considering the anti-humanitarian horrors perpetrated here."
"You're crazy as hell," Elaine calmly announced, and got out, not waiting for him.
Walking up the cantilevered stairway, they were silent. Fred opened the tall, thick door, and the blast of raucous television speakers greeted them.
Up on the main living level, Fred poked his head into the family room. The kids glanced up.
"HI, DAD!" the youngest, a very fetching blonde boy, shouted.
"Hi, dad," the other two said without much enthusiasm. They were watching a show about Romans horse-backing in Egypt among palm trees and pyramids.
His heart sunk as he waved, and he glanced at Elaine, who was smiling hopefully. "TV," he lamely announced, trying to explain modern children candidly.
Elaine wagged her head. She had outgrown TV, just that morning.
Now Fred walked down the hallway and tried the knob to his bedroom. Locked. He fished an eight-penny nail out of his pocket and poked it into the small hole in the knob to release the locking device. Then he opened the door quietly, thinking that Shirley might hopefully be asleep. WOW! He almost fainted!
The sight that greeted his eyes was so stunningly obscene that he almost choked. "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?? ? ! ! ! " he roared, shaking the very walls and making Shirley jump, along with the dazed Don, a good foot into thin air.
Don almost pissed from startled fright. His eyes shot wide open and his stomach instantly began to tighten. He gasped, but no sound came out from between his lips.
Shirley cried out in dismay, half because she had been startled and half because they had been interrupted in an ecstatic and dreamy post-orgasmic interlude of peace and bliss. That goddamned Fred did it again, ruined something for her.
Trying her best to recover, she whirled and smoothed down her dress, as though her naked bottom was sacred from her husband and no others. "GET OUT OF HERE!" she growled fiercely, her eyes bugging hotly out of their sockets.
"I'll be damned," Fred muttered, unable to believe his eyes. There was a young boy on the bed, cowering, his pants down, glistening moisture fresh on his limp penis. "I'll be double damned," Fred affirmed, shaking his head. He thought about kicking their asses, about wringing their necks, about murdering them in cold blood! .
Intrigued and inquisitive, Elaine moved silently toward the source of the ruckus, that bedroom at the end of the hall. She was almost giggling, knowing with her feminine intuition that Shirley had finally been caught in the act. God, this revelation amused her like nothing else could.
The kids, hearing the yelling, rushed down the hall.
"No, no!" Elaine called, holding her arms out to prevent their passage. "Go on back and watch your boob-tube. Your mom and dad are just having a discussion. Go on back now."
Vance, the oldest, scowled at her. "Who the hell are you, anyway?" he blurted, belligerent and prepared to fight her.
"Back, Fang!" Elaine said, laughing at the youngster who was taller than she but years younger.
Vance laughed at this and shook his head. "Another fight, huh?" he observed somewhat wryly.
"Nothing physical," Elaine informed him. "Now beat it, will you? We'll let them get it off their minds."
All this while a confused roar was issuing from the room.
Fred was rooted to the spot, and suddenly he laughed. It all seemed so incredible, so far-fetched, so damned ironical!
As usual, his laughter infuriated Shirley, who grasped a thick book and threw a strike, smashing her laughing husband right in the nose, which promptly spurted a torrent of rich, red blood.
He laughed harder, wiping his nose and tear-flooded eyes. "Hey Elaine," he called over his shoulder between hicking sobs of unmitigated mirth, "come here and see this! My God, it's too much, I'll tell you!" He was now pointing with one hand, leaning on the dresser, and holding his nostrils shut with the other fingers.
Who the hell is Elaine?? ? Shirley quickly wondered, not knowing what to expect.
What in the devil am I going to do now?? ? Don thought in panic.
Jesus H. Christ, Fred thought in crashing befuddlement, I caught her in the fucking act! I really did! I simply can't believe it! What do I do now? God, all I can do is laugh! It's just too funny! She was sucking his cock! How rare! How utterly incredible! And all I can do is laugh! All I can do is laugh! God, how rare!
Elaine strode into the room and gasped at the red gloss covering Fred's lower face. Then she saw the book and looked at Shirley and Don on the bed, Shirley fighting mad, Don about to wet.
"Hi, Donnie, how's it going; and I presume that it's going pretty well, huh?" Then, to Shirley, "How are you Missus Carlson. You are looking good."
"Shut up, you little bitch!" Shirley growled, about to spring like an enraged panther. It was bad enough being discovered so abruptly by her oaf husband, standing there braying like a jack-ass, but being subjected to the unwarranted scrutiny of the young daughter of one of his clients was entirely too much. Shirley knew that the time had come for a shoot-out, and this was it. "Get out, both of you! Get out of this room this instant!"
Elaine looked at Fred and Don looked at Shirley. Neither moved, supported as they were by major factions.
Fred was weak from laughing, and his nose-bleed had subsided.
"What were you doing to this poor little boy, Monkey-tits, sucking on him or something? My God, you should have seen yourself!" Then, looking at Don, he said, "Hey, kid. Do me a favor and reach under the bed for a small tape-recorder, will you? Oh, and don't worry, I won't touch you. Being screwed by Monkey-tits there is its own punishment." He chuckled and nodded as Don dutifully went onto his hands and knees and reached into the darkness for the cassette recorder. "That a baby. Here, let me have it."
Fred got the recorder and thanked Don over-civilly. Then he cast a broad, ingratiating smile at Shirley. "A recorder," he told her, holding it for her to see, which she could. She also knew that it was a recorder, and that he was merely being humorous.
She growled and muttered a string of fairly hot epithets.
Elaine wagged her upper body coquettishly and looked up at the ceiling, trying to keep from laughing.
Don zipped up and looked to Shirley for help.
Fred hit the rewind function switch and the room was filled with a soft whirring noise and the sounds of rapid, shallow breathing.
Click! Fred smiled at Shirley and then at Elaine. "Music," he said to them, "music of the stars, of the universe. Magic music to make the world go 'round!" Then he pressed the function switch to "PLAY."
"Well, good morning, Shirley," came a male voice.
"How interesting!" Fred said, nodding his head. "Good old Karl Bach, here to pay a friendly call! Didn't know that bankers made house calls. Did he leave a small deposit in your night box, dear wife?"
"Shut the fuck up, you--you beast!" she said.
"Hey, kid, listen to this! You'll see that you've been used by Vampira here!"
Don blinked dryly and tried to swallow. He only gulped.
"Quick, lover." The voice of Shirley came from the small speaker. "Undress and come in and warm me up!"
"Hey, kid--did you get that? You've been used! You've had sloppy seconds! How's that grab you?? ? "
Recovering, Don whispered something to Shirley, wriggling for all he was worth to get out of the incredible fix he was in. All that laughing had unnerved him, and the sight of blood all over Fred's mouth and chin and neck made him think about being murdered.
As she listened, a slow smile began to build on Shirley's face. She began to nod, and then she looked at Fred and laughed. Turning to Don, she said, "You don't say! My goodness, that's great! Elaine, that's great! Really fine!"
"What's fine?" Elaine asked, bewildered because neither had she paid any, attention to Don whispering, but she certainly hadn't heard.
"It's fine," Fred supplied, confident that he was holding the winning hand in a ludicrous game.
"Hurry!" came the sound of her voice.
"Yeah, Karl, hurry!" Fred supplied, shaking his head happily.
"Damn it, Karl, HURRY!" came the further demand from the box.
"Yeah, Karl, you toad, hurry, damn it!" He looked at Elaine, who was becoming edgy. "Karl's a regular speed-demon when it comes to balling what's her name, here. You can tell."
"I think I want to go home," Elaine said.
"No, kid," Shirley said in gooey-sweetness, "stick around for a while. Why don't you take off your clothes and get comfortable?" Shirley crossed her shapely legs and smiled pleasantly at Elaine, who frowned and shook with panic.
These people are insane! she told herself, sharing only a semblance of comradeship with Don now, who was in the same boat. She glanced at him. Nothing more with Don! He was leering!
Shirley knew that she had scored in two ways. She saw Fred wipe his nose and frown. Elaine moved closer to him. "I think that I'll go into the kitchen and make some drinks. Anybody for a peanut butter sandwich? You, kid? You, dunceman?" She could be sweet, she could. Getting up to go, Fred caught her by the arm.
"No you don't," he growled forcefully. "The goddamn gun is in there...."
"Get your paw off me, you creep!" she retorted, "I don't like you enough to shoot you. And I wouldn't do society the favor! No, you've created the perfect hell for yourself, me bucko, and you're going to gag on it, eight-years' worth!"
If she was ever too close to getting a pop in the nose, this was it, but Fred tensed and then relaxed.
"If you refer to jail, honey, it'd only be a vacation after the term I've been forced to do with you! Christ, fresh air, finally!" But inwardly he was wondering how she knew, how his wife knew that he had screwed Elaine. How could she know?? ? It had just happened a few hours before. Miles and miles ago! Impossible! She was kidding--shooting in the dark.
Shirley swished by Fred and Elaine, humming happily as she strolled down the hall full of confidence.
Elaine, now roused to anger, looked at Fred and pointed to the VTR case. Then she looked at Don. "If you did," she said, "I will personally cut your balls off!"
Don, who was chuckling, turned pale.
"He did it!" Elaine said urgently to Fred, pointing at him. "That dirty bastard probably filmed us with that silly thing of his dad's! I just know it!"
"What is it?" Fred asked Don, who was now shaking.
"It's a video tape recorder," Don confessed uneasily.
Shirley came back with a tray of glasses, a carafe of ice water, and a bottle of Canadian Club. "And you filmed us?" Fred asked. Don nodded abjectly.
Shirley chortled. She mixed four stiff drinks. She hummed.
Elaine whimpered and grasped Fred's arm.
"How sweet," Shirley commented, glancing up.
"No shit?" Fred asked Don, a half-smile of benign amusement on his face. "I mean, really, no shit? You actually sneaked up on us and filmed the whole thing?"
"Yup," Don said, gladdened that Fred didn't seem angry.
"Yup," Shirley said, handing Fred and Elaine two drinks.
"I'll be damned," Fred said absently, lifting his drink.
"Yup!" Shirley announced cheerfully, lifting her drink.
Don just drank his, and he coughed violently.
Nobody paid much attention to the blatting recorder until this came on: "Let me squiggle down a bit, and you kneel over my face, all right? I want you to jack off over me and shoot on my face!"
Fred howled with delight! "OMIGAWD!! ! "
"Aw, hell," Karl's voice replied from that machine, "that's no good! You suck me off, and I'll pull away and then shoot into your face."
OH, JESUS! Fred thought, completely destroyed and almost falling onto the floor from mirth's weakness. He poked Elaine in the ribs and said, "How's that! I mean, isn't it too much?? ? ! ! ! "
Elaine laughed nervously, and eyed Shirley with new respect.
As the tape played on, she found herself beginning to giggle, but she was sexy. The noises issuing from that box were horrendous, titillating, exciting, unimaginably sexy. She gulped at her drink, and wished that she could be alone with Fred, listening to it.
"That doesn't sound at all like me," Shirley announced with confident flippancy. "I don't record very well, do you think, Fred?"
"You sound like Sydney Greenstreet taking a shit," Fred said.
"You'd probably know," she retorted, smiling frostily.
"Hey," Fred asked, pouring refills for the group in the bedroom, "what did Karl mean back there about rimming? I mean, I'm naive."
"Do you want me to show you?" Shirley asked openly.
"Not on me, for Heaven's sake. How's about on Fellini here."
"I wouldn't rim you with a battle-root, hayseed! Don, get up."
Don, dizzied by the drink and in no frame of mind to cause a hassle, got up.
"Take down your pants," she ordered, nodding and smiling.
He did so, worried as hell. He had to set his drink down.
When his bottom was bare, Shirley said, "Turn around and bend over and spread your cheeks."
"Oh, no!" Elaine cried, gasping and leaning against the giggling Fred.
Don turned around, bent over, and spread his cheeks, revealing the tightly puckered knot of his anus, all pink-brown and hairless.
"Sic 'im, Fang!" Fred urged Shirley, guffawing raucously at the surrealistic scene being perpetrated in his own bedroom. Not a mind on earth could experience the unreal activities and not snap.
Yet, watching, he was growing an erection! Imagine, his own wife, the person that he thought he knew better than anyone on earth, bending forward, her eyes almost closed, her lips parted, the pink spear of her raspberry tongue pointing forward like the hot tip of an old-fashioned soldering iron! He giggled nervously.
The world is mad! Elaine silently screamed, transfixed by the lugubrious sight. Was this woman actually going to stick her tongue into little Donnie House's ass-hole! Good God!
Don didn't know what to expect, but he knew in a minute. The hot, wet touch of her tongue against the sensitive elastic ring of his ass-hole electrified him, and he groaned, liking it immensely.
"I'll never eat in this restaurant again!" Fred told Elaine, laughing and crying at the same time.
"This can't be happening," Elaine murmured, entranced and dull.
"UUUUuuuuurrrrrrhhhhhhh!! ! " Don groaned as Shirley's hot tongue forced itself slickly into that tightly closed little hole. His knees buckled and he bucked back to feel even more.
Shirley wanted to stun both Fred and Elaine, and she didn't mind performing at all. In fact, she thought it might be fun. She did well indeed. The Danes would have been enraptured, shocked.
Elaine whimpered. She was profoundly sexy, and she wondered what that might taste like. She whimpered again and looked up at Fred, shaking her head, her eyes filled with unshed tears.
Shirley went out of her way to make wet, sluicing sounds, noises of pure animal pleasure. She was on her hands and knees, oriented toward Don, who was bending and spreading his cheeks.
Her tongue twisted in his sensitive anus, and his cock was jerking up spasmodically like the hard handle of a bumper-jack. Shirley anticipated this, and her hand went up and around and grasped that hardening stalk of supreme sexuality. She began to pump it as she fucked him in the ass-hole with her tongue. God, were the moons of his fanny soft!
Standing there, witnessing it all, Fred was lost. He didn't know what to do. But there it was! She was actually perpetrating the most weird, foul, perverted, lewd, lascivious, lugubrious, obscene, degrading, bizarre, salacious, crude and gross sexual act known to psychosexuality, and he wondered if she really liked doing it.
He grasped Elaine's arm. "Wait a minute."
"Not on your life," she said.
"Come on, then." He went into the family room and gave Vance a twenty-dollar bill. "Call a cab and take Dave and Mellie downtown to a show, okay? Have something to eat. But split."
"Aw dad!"
"Do it, okay? And watch out for Dave. Don't lose him."
"Forty?" Vance suggested.
So it was done. The kids beat it, and Fred locked the front door. He looked hotly at Elaine.
"I don't like any of this," she answered, sensing his question.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"Relax," he told her, pressing her against the closet door by the front entry. His hands moved up her sides and cupped the full bottoms of her breasts. His system was dulled by three stiff drinks and the sordid sight he had just witnessed, and he knew that now he could enjoy Elaine without fear of being caught by Shirley. In fact, he intended to let Shirley see them, because it was his opinion that Elaine was not only shaplier, but a hell of a lot more responsive.
Elaine melted into his embrace and closed her eyes tightly, trying to make some sense of it all. She could see that it was a good thing that Fred's bubble had been popped, but she still couldn't quite believe the sequence! Don House, screwing Mrs. Carlson? Too utterly fantastic. But, of course, the word was out about that woman. Anybody who knew anything knew that she was always horny.
She thought that she might be free with Fred now, unconcerned with Shirley. She honestly liked Shirley more as a result of what she had seen, but she didn't know why. Perhaps a kinship. Equal rights, maybe, even though she was no cultist of women's liberation. Perhaps it was a simple matter of honesty. She settled on that like some sea bird on a rock. Honesty.
"She's not wrong," Elaine said, when she could. "She's never wrong," Fred replied. "I always am."
"About me?" Elaine asked, stiffening.
"I can only hope not," Fred whispered, his lips brushing her hair. "I want to love you."
"You can't afford it," Elaine blurted, and then she laughed.
SPIKE! Fred pushed himself away from her. "What?"
"I said that you can't afford to love me. There isn't enough of you to love me, I think." She turned away and gazed out at the thick stand of blue spruce right beyond the windows.
"What do you mean?" Fred asked, profoundly hurt.
"I am thirteen. How much time do you have? Can you be cool for two years? Do you want to marry me? Don't answer that," she hurriedly inserted. "I know you do. But I don't want to marry you. I love you, yes. But I know too much already yet! About you, about me."
"What do you know?" Fred asked, becoming guarded and cagey now.
"Well, watching in there," she began, still facing away from him in a capsule of telegraphic insulation, "I was sexy about Don. And you were sexy about your wife. I thought that I knew it all, but you changed all that, y'know?" Her voice broke.
"How, Elaine? God, tell me." He advanced, and wanted to touch her, but his hands stopped short, an inch from her quivering arms.
"Well, heck," she cried, "I can be jealous too! Imagine me, in my bed, alone, late at night, thinking about you screwing that--that bitch in there! That fucking-machine wife of yours! How do you think I'd feel?"
"So we have the same problem, then?" Fred said, and sighed.
"OOoooohhhh," she wailed, her face now streaming with hot, saline tears, "we have the same everything, I think! I love you so much, but I don't have you! Nobody has anybody!"
"You have me," he tried.
"Awwww, bullshit! I don't have you and you know it! You're--no! I'm just your plaything, your current imagine, something to distract you, to satisfy your goddamn wiener. It's all shit!" She began to sob, and ran down the half-flight of steps and threw herself onto the large sofa there.
Bewildered for the hundredth time that day.
Fred walked slowly after her, amazed at the depth of her love, the acuity of her reasoning. She was dead right, or right on, as they say.
Going down there, on the first floor, he sat beside her and his hand went to her rapidly heaving back. "Elaine, come on, cut it out!" he said.
"Aw, fuck you!" God, she loved him so much she could have died! Her very heart was breaking. She knew that he would screw his wife now that the air had been cleared, just as she knew that she had been changed by what she had seen, that she would screw Don at the drop of a hat. That's the way it was. Sex was odd, strange, elusive, like a washtub full of fresh, writhing eels, not graspable.
"Elaine," Fred implored, "please!"
"AAAaaaawwwww, goddamn it anyway! What have you done to me?"
Panic hit Fred. Was she going to crack? Psych out right there? Bad scene! He knew that Shirley would throw him to the dogs easy as that, but he had counted on some time with this lovely new thing. And, of course, the young girl was right. She was right about what she had said earlier, damn it. But the full feeling was still there, despite the motivations.
"Elaine, cut it out now, please, " Fred entreated her, rubbing her back slowly, softly, warmly. With part of his mind he was wondering what Shirley was doing upstairs.
She rolled over, her face all wet. "Oooh, God, Fred, what can I do? I thought that I was in love with you, but I'm only in sex with you, or in sex with sex!"
He chewed on that, but his heart was breaking as he looked down at her incredibly beautiful young face. He shrugged.
It was an impasse, a Mexican stand-off, a Chinese puzzle, a Neapolitan traffic-jam. Both knew it, and both were sick about it.
Beaten, Fred stood. He walked slowly up the steps, the entire weight of the world on his un-Atlas-like shoulders. The walk took forever, but he finally arrived at the bedroom, where he found Don and Shirley sitting on the bed, chatting.
"Well, you look like the bottom of an old pot," Shirley said in cheerful greeting.
He glanced at her and wrinkled his upper lip. Then he poured a glass full of Canadian. He contemplated Don, who sat there very nervously, very guilty about something. Glancing again at his wife, he saw that she was smiling. "Are you happy, Shirley? I mean, are you really, seriously happy?"
"Incredibly!" she replied.
"Cut that shit! I want to know something. Just tell me this: Does making it with other guys give you a thrill? Let's be friends for a minute, hunh?"
She twirled the remnants of her drink and stared into the revolving amber of the liquor. "If you don't know by now," she murmured, "don't mess with it."
"What the hell kind of answer is that?" Fred griped.
"Listen," she said, looking up at him, "do you ever get the least bit sexy about some pretty girl?"
"Sometimes."
"And what do you do?" she asked. "Mostly nothing."
"That's because you're an idiot," she said.
"Or a liar." He raised his heavy eyebrows.
"Good for you!" Shirley exclaimed. "And do you know the difference between a man and a woman?"
"I hope to tell you!"
"In terms of things like--mmmmmm--desire?"
"You mean being horny?" he asked. "Exactly. Do you know?" she said. "No."
"Women are as horny as men," she said.
Tombstones fell dully, with muffled thuds. Fred added water to his too-strong drink. He went and leaned against the dresser. He looked at Don. "How are you this afternoon?" he asked. "By the way, what's your name? I think Elaine mentioned it."
"Don, sir."
"Well, Don, some day--perhaps soon," and he spread his arms wide, "all of this might be yours."
"GEE!"
"Aw, Fred, goddammit, wise up!"
"Shit!" said Fred Carlson, sneering into his drink and drinking.
"Where's little Miss Bigtits?" Shirley asked, downing her drink.
"Downstairs, brooding."
"What's her problem?" Shirley enquired.
"She's worried that I might screw you."
"Valid?"
Fred contemplated his wife and nodded. "Valid enough."
Shirley smiled. Her hand slipped into Don's lap, and she gave that lump of male flesh a provocative squeeze. Teasing her husband.
Fred could have killed her. She looked so beautiful.
"Let's see your candidate for the Venice Film Festival, Don."
Don shrugged and bent away from Shirley's inviting grasp, lost to the madness of the weird couple. He fidgeted with the reel and set the thing up, and then pushed a function switch of his own, after placing the unit and monitor on the bed between the rumpled pillows.
The screen went light blue from dull gray, and suddenly the image of weeds appeared. The focus changed, and then Fred recognized it all. He and Elaine. He was eating her. "Why?" he asked without a trace of rancor.
"I wanted to rip her off for me," Don said.
"She's downstairs," Fred informed him, implying acquiescence. "You wouldn't mind?"
Fred had to think about it. "Yes, I would. It would hurt, sure, but, as she said, none of us owns another. If she wants to ball you, that's your business, you know, yours and hers. Not mine."
"And what about me?" Shirley asked.
"What about you?" Fred asked in reply.
"If somebody wants to ball me, whose business is it?"
"Ours, I think," Fred answered after thinking about it a while.
"Why not mine?" Shirley persisted.
"You're my wife."
"I am an individual," she retorted.
"You are the mother of our children."
"So what! I don't have to let them hear that tape or watch this incredible shit on this thing! They don't know what balling is, even."
"You're racing toward divorce!" he said.
"Stretch your mind, man!" she said.
"Christ, cut it out, will you!" he said.
"Fred, you can screw that girl all you want, don't you know! Just look at you! There, on that little TV thing! You seem to be having the time of your life. Hell, I know you! You're enjoying yourself! Why take that same pleasure from me, you unfair bastard? Am I some kind of de-sexed slave? Some kind of neutered animal? Subhuman? Can't you understand?"
He sat beside her and took her hand in his. Her other hand now rested, with a glass, in Don's lap. "I don't know nothing," he confessed.
"I can't buy it, Shirley," he said, after a long silence.
"But why?"
"Upbringing, I suppose," he said, shaking his head abjectly, slowly, staring down into the amber pool of anesthesia.
"Look," she countered, "you like Elaine, right? I mean, you balled her. You enjoyed it, right?"
"Yup."
"Why can't I do the same thing? With Don here, or Karl?"
"You can. You did, and you can," he said. "Oh, you simple shit--can't you understand anything?"
Fred stood, finished his drink, and walked out of the room, his wallet suitably heavy in his back pocket.
CHAPTER NINE
He cast a glance at Elaine, lying silently on that sofa down there. "Good-bye, love," he whispered, and he left, walked to his car, and got in. He didn't want to do it, but he had to. It was all over. Finished.
Starting the car, he felt extremely weary. He stopped at a liquor store for a six-pack. Malt liquor, tall.
His eyes were moist. He didn't know what he gave the man at the counter, and he didn't glance at the change. It meant nothing. The music reminded him of Elaine, centuries ago. So long ago.
Driving slowly out, he glanced at his rear-view mirror. A red car was approaching at a high rate of speed. He sneered and turned his attention to the road.
Shirley, accompanied by Don and Elaine, raced along in her red Cad convertible, all worried. She had questioned Elaine, and had found out that they had spent the morning out on the bluffs of the Crow River, a place Fred liked. Obvious, then.
"He'll be there, but we have to hurry!" Shirley informed them.
"Why?" Elaine wondered.
"Don't ask, lint-head!" Shirley snapped, not disliking Elaine, but not wanting to get involved in a debate at the time. She knew that Fred was blasted out of the tank, shaky, close to the edge.
When she saw his car she felt a surge of gratifying relief. "There he is," she said.
"You really love him, don't you?" Elaine said, crying softly.
"No. But I kind of like him," Shirley said and set her jaw. She did love him, but she wouldn't admit it, because that would make her own life harder to bear. Lies are great.
"I love him," Elaine said, proudly.
"Nonsense," Shirley snorted. She believed that Elaine did love him, and felt glad for Fred.
"I love you," Don said, hot against her side.
"Of course you do," Shirley said, swinging out swiftly to overtake the black sedan. She then applied brakes and swerved over, forcing the sedan to turn or hit her, she didn't care which.
Out and around, she glared at Fred. "Cop out!" she accused.
Fred, with a devastating headache, tried to focus on her. A cold Colt was sweating in his hand. "Hi," he said, "what you doing 'way out here?" He recognized her--as unpleasant.
He took a sip, spilling some beer down his chin.
Shirley was disgusted, and was tempted to let the stupid bastard do away with himself, but her affection overruled. "Don!" she cried, "drive that thing, will you?" Saying this, she opened the driver's side door and nudged Fred over. "Move over, you moron!" Fred moved.
She swung out and wide. Shot a U-turn, and headed back.
"Where we going?" Fred asked, quietly.
"Taking you to the nut-house," she replied tersely.
"Oh, back home. Okay." He slumped over.
"Why are you listening to that insidious teeny-bopper music?" she asked him, her knuckles white on the wheel.
"I don't see how I can ever kiss you again," he replied.
"So who wants you to?" she countered.
"We do," he said, leaning her head back.
She put her hand into his lap. "Damn it, Fred, I'm nuts about you. But you're so damned--oh, Christ, I give up!"
"I'm talented and good looking and strong and-"
"And idiotic!" she cut in, her hand finding his penis and pressing down on it. "We can reach some kind of deal, can't we?"
Shirley knew that they had a good deal, and she wanted more than anything to have some freedom, to be able to be like most men, to be able to screw whom she wanted, more or less when she wanted, without the monstrous guilt complex that hung over everything. She liked the life with Fred, and wished that she could make it with him, in one way or another. Certainly she was jealous of Elaine; after all, Elaine had wonderful tits! But she knew that she could bloom as a wife and friend for her husband, whom she actually did like.
That she liked to screw was no crime, she reasoned, no sin. Almost all women do. She just liked guys, that's all! But she liked Fred, too, and more than she could ever show. Hard thing to surrender a husband to some young girl; easy thing to bed a young boy, though; fair's fair!
She pulled over, fingered the window down, and waved Don, who was following, to pull up beside her. "Here are the house keys," she said. "We'll be back in a while. Go on in and amuse yourselves. Stay there and wait, all right?"
Don caught the ring of keys that Shirley pitched to him and he smiled, at her. Then he depressed the accelerator pedal and his hand crept onto Elaine's thigh. Elaine's hand covered his warmly.
Shirley sat, parked, until they were gone. Then she took a hanky from her purse and spit on it, wetting it. She turned and wiped the dried blood from Fred's face, tears flooding her eyes.
He looked at her. "What's the matter with you?"
"Just shut up, you big, dumb, block-headed Swede."
"You like me, then --" he said, in awe.
"I hate your guts!" She dabbed lovingly at his face, tears rolling down her cheeks, her very heart ripping loose. Unable to contain herself after a minute, she threw her arms around him, covered his face with kisses, and cried without restraint. "Please try to understand me," she wailed, clutching him desperately.
"I understand you," Fred replied loosely, "You're a cheap bitch."
"Yes, damn it, I am! What would you be if you were me?"
"Either dead, or a prostitute," he said.
"You're a fool!"
"Aren't I, though. Do we fuck right here in the car?"
"Are you going to fuck me?" she asked.
"I've never fucked you in my life," he replied, "but I'm now going to fuck you. In this car. Right here."
"What about a motel?" she asked. "On our way in, maybe," he said. "Was Elaine better than me?" she asked. "Tremendously!" And then, "Besides, it's better than I, dumb!"
"I am dumb."
"Some dumb. I'd hate to fight you if you were smart."
"Carlson?"
"Wut."
"Nothing. Nothing," she whispered in his ear, "just hold me, please? Hold me for a while. God, can you hear me talk to you--from inside?"
"You must've eaten onions," he said.
"I ate something. You know what," she said.
"ECH! GODDAMN! I FORGOT!"
"You ate Elaine."
"Yep. I sure did."
"Can I light you a cigarette?" she asked.
"Sit on my lap."
"I want to eat you."
"So eat me."
"Do you love Elaine?"
"I love all kids, ours mostly. More than any."
"Are you mad at me?"
"Yes. I hate you. Now eat me, goddamn it!"
"Yes, sir." She unzipped his fly and fished into the warm and moist recesses of his slacks and found his semi-rigid penis, which she took lovingly out. Bending, she sniffed. "I smell maiden-juice."
"If you stick your tongue in an ass-hole, you shouldn't mind licking off some juice from Bartholin glands."
"There's blood!"
"Lucky me!"
"She was a virgin?" she asked.
"I guess."
"Lucky you."
"Why 'lucky' me?"
"You nailed a virgin," she said.
"Virgins are for shit," he said.
"She wasn't any good?" she asked.
"She was wonderful!" he said.
"I see. You don't like me?" she said.
"You've got a box like the Greyhound bus terminal."
"I love your hooter, you know?"
"I'd like to see you screwed by a donkey," he said.
"MMMMMmmmmmmmm ... "
"Yeah. Do that some more. OOOOoooohhhhh, God, you nasty, nasty woman, what do you want? That I renew your--ooooooohhhhhh--lease? Christ, you're collapsing my skull. OW! Not so fucking hard! Ouch, damn it! Oh, what you do to me!
"Nice to be home, honey." His hand went to her head, his fingers raked into her soft, silky hair, he gasped and gritted his teeth, his stomach tied in knots. The sensation was fabulous.
"Shirley," he said, talking through clenched jaws, "I think that I do understand, honey, but it's so hard. God, I cherish you!" He strained as incredible thrills suffused his body. Her hair was a diaphanous curtain over his lap. "I want you exclusively for my own, but--you're right--I have eyes for other chicks too. OOOooohhh, God! Jesus, does that knock me out! Why haven't you done that to me before?? ? " He stiffened, and thought about his own wife as she sucked his cock.
"What can we do?" he went on dreamily, enjoying the intensely keen and erotic sensation of her hungry mouth as she sucked so very ravenously. His body was merging with hers.
Shirley was bursting too. She came up and turned her head. "We can love each other," she said, simply.
"Ten years," Fred said, "and I've missed the essence of you."
"Not entirely," she corrected, smiling and grasping his cock by the base as though she were afraid she might lose it.
"An unhappy ten years," he said.
"A bitching bad ten years," she responded with alacrity.
"Our next ten years will be better," he said.
"Infinitely more interesting," Shirley agreed, putting some spin on it.
"I need something," he said, simply.
"I know," Shirley crooned around his cock.
When she went down on him again, he hefted the hem of her skirt and put his hand on her bare fanny. God, what a beautiful ass that woman had! Sex. Wow, who can figure it? He was turned right around watching her lewd performance a while before. Now, touching those cool moons of pliant softness, he knew that it was possible to stick a tongue into that crevice, to rim her, to fuck her anally. With his tongue. They had fucked, obviously, but they had never indulged in imagine fornication before they were married or complicated coitus after. Now it was something else.
"Let's do go to a motel," Fred said, delirious with sexual arousal. "Robb's is only about two miles down. God, let's!"
"Yes, lover, yes!" she said.
They arrived, checked in, smiled broadly at the no-mind clerk because they most very certainly were married, and they walked jauntily to cubicle 107, a depressing affair with the sole winning feature of a large bed with a funny-colored orange chenille bedspread.
Fred threw Shirley onto that bed, and fell beside her, swapped end for end.
Shirley sighed with anticipatory delight and grasped his penis once she opened his pants front. She eagerly opened her mouth and took it again, squirming in an insatiable delight as his hot breath brushed her pussy. She quivered with sensual delight as she felt the delicious touch of his searing tongue on her labia, and wriggled down to better realize that sensuous touch. God, was it heavenly! No guilt, no remorse, no possible recriminations. She pulled away.
"OOOOooooohhhhh, Fred darling," she cried, and went back onto him, her mouth working like it had never done before.
Fred was at the trough royally, sucking and nipping and biting. His body shook with nervous eroticism that he had never before experienced. How could he have slept with this woman for so long and not known her ticket, the combination to her safe, her secret? He didn't know; God, he didn't know! Now he literally shook with erotic delight, sucking her divine pussy, that thing that he had despised for so long. He felt her writhe and whimper under him, her soft but shapely body wriggling and trying to caress him voluptuously. God, she was wild, and Fred knew it!
Shirley lavished maximum attention on Fred's penis, tonguing that rigidly straining stalk of excited flesh more than she ever had before. She loved it! It was quite a bit larger than Don's, and the tart flavor from its recent use magnified its own normal flavor. Her tongue did wonderful things to that magnificent penis, and Shirley was suffused with an abandoned sexiness that she never knew she could muster up. There was no guilt, but it seemed that all the guilt she had previously felt was now resolved, sweetened by this holy and torrid tryst with her own husband. She didn't imagine that it was possible!
She sucked on that rubber-like knob of his blood-filled glans with a mad passion that was truly frightening, and she cried from the depths of her throat, happy to be there, to be with him finally, to make such erotic love to him.
His tongue in her pussy, his magic lips that massaged her itching labia so deliciously, his hands fondling her with such deft expertise, all combined to make her cry out, to make her wonder where she had been all his life! He was sexier than any man she could imagine!
She fleetingly imagined that she was being raped, such was his burning ardor! God, he was taking her apart with his body on hers!
"AA ARRRRGGGGHHHHHH!! ! ! " she screamed, pulling her hot lips away from his rapidly surging penis. His tongue was actually burning her, and her clitoris was hammering like a timpani. Jolts of pure electricity surged through her, spasming her arms and legs, crushing the breath out of her very lungs, making her mind detach frighteningly from her body. She was gone, lost to the pure, provocative sexuality that she was sharing with her very own husband!
Fred knew that he must be doing something right, and he increased his ministrations hotly, his lips and tongue sucking and delving madly into the buttery depths of her wildly working cunt. He too was plunged into a never-never-land of sex, enjoying the very company of his wife of ten years. What caused it? Was it hearing the tape? Seeing the video display? Was it the stark realization that she was a sexy woman, with defined needs? Honesty? He didn't know, he simply didn't know, but he wondered, and his face remained tight in the warm nest of her crotch, his face warm and wet, his mouth ministering wetly to that hungry feminine demon of delicately tingling flesh she was exposing for him after so long.
Fred's balls were being fondled by her cool hands, something that had never happened before. God, did it feel good! Her soft fingers moved them as though they really were the family jewels, and he tightened up from the force of sheer delight.
Shirley was burbling in the steaming throes of one of the very best orgasms she had ever enjoyed. Her legs and arms began to flail and jerk wildly, and her body was lost in tumultuous explosions of flagrant sexuality. She allowed everything to explode as hard as it could, yielding to the powerful force of the climax that shook her. She screamed from the depths of her throat, but the scream was one of intense erotic pleasure! She felt electricity sparking from Fred's wetly trapped penis, and she sucked with all her might, feeling his legs as they thrashed against her wildly working head.
God, that explosion of Fred's nuts was fantastic! The steaming gush shot up like a geyser of liquid fire, exploding hotly from the slit at the tip of his wetly embedded glans into the buttery depths of his wife's throat.
"AAARRRRGGGGHHHHH!!" he groaned from deep in his own throat, simultaneously releasing his steaming spew and slurping in that torrid torrent issuing from inside Shirley's wild and hot cunt. God, he clutched her buttocks and pressed her pelvis against his face as though it were some hot, living meal, one that he was wolfing down savagely.
In a moment it was all over, and both slumped, dazed by their fantastic orgasms, breathing slowly, unable to move.
Meanwhile, in the red Cadillac, Don and Elaine were driving toward the city rather quickly. Rock and Roll music blared from the two speakers, and both were smiling. They were relieved to be out of that hornet's nest of bizarre matrimony, confused by the entire scene they had witnessed.
"God," Don said, "have you ever seen anything like it?"
"No. No, I haven't. I can't believe it! That woman! Putting her tongue into you like that. God!"
Don chuckled and glanced at the young girl beside him. "You should see what she did earlier!" he announced with bravado.
"What did she do earlier?" Elaine enquired of him testily.
"She sucked my cock," Don informed her, thinking that he might generate some action. "Like you sucked that old guy's."
"He's not so old," Elaine replied, grim because she thought about the inexcusable intrusion Don had perpetrated. "You're a rat, by the way. You know that?"
"Yeah. God, am I glad to be out of that mess! Christ, I was thinking that that creep might have killed me."
"Maybe he should have." She glared at him now.
"You heard me say why I did it," he tossed to her, grinning.
"I heard. I know. But it was still a crummy thing to do."
"Wasn't it, though! God, Elaine, you're the sexiest thing I've ever seen, don't you know that?"
"And you want to add my scalp to your little collection? So you can tell all your friends about it?" She sat away from him and regarded him coolly.
"God no! If I were to tell anybody, they'd all be running after you, can't you see that? Why would I tell anybody, huh?"
"Boys will be boys," she mumbled.
"So will some girls," he countered, glancing at her.
"And what the hell do you mean by that?"
"Nothing, Elaine, nothing. I really would like to have you, though. What dp you see in a jerk like that stupid guy, anyway?"
"I don't know. I just like him," she said.
"You know that he's screwing Shirley right now, don't you?"
This hit Elaine like a sledge-hammer. She hadn't really thought about it, but it now made sense. Of course he was screwing her now! Goddamn him anyway! Of course he was screwing her!
"You really think so, Don? I mean do you really think so?" she asked.
He laughed. "Hell, yes! Didn't you see how she was so worried about finding him? And they're not following us, are they? And she tossed us the key to the house, didn't she? I mean, what do you think they were going to do, go fishing? for Christ's sake?"
"How fast will this rod go?" she sullenly asked.
"Man, this hog moves! She'll kick up plenty of dust. Why?"
"Let's go to their place, then. I want a drink."
"And then we'll screw?" he said.
Elaine was burning with jealousy. "And then we'll really screw!"
"Hot-cha!" Don cried, and his foot pressed the accelerator pedal down, racing toward town at break-neck speed.
Elaine's eyes were narrowed as she thought about the fickleness of men. She suddenly hated Fred, the man she had loved so much just a while before. Could he really switch off, just like that? Run from her and into the arms of another woman, even if the bitch was his wife? God, how gross! How rotten! She looked at Don. "Look," she warned him, "if you kill us, we miss out!"
Don laughed. The car tracked beautifully for a large car, and it had power to burn. But he eased off. "Sit close to me," he told her, "and let's do things."
She slid over, not caring that she didn't really feel any love for him. He was sexy, and she was angry. Her hand went to that hard bulge she saw in his trousers, and slipped over it. She took that now familiar lump and fondled it, thinking all the while how she would never speak to Fred again. What would be the point?
Don moaned and stretched luxuriously. This was a conquest for him, the second of the day. True, it hadn't come about as he planned it, but then things in life seldom come about as planned. The important thing was that she was holding his cock, albeit through his slacks. But the ice had been broken, and he imagined untold delights in Carlson's bed with her.
They arrived, and Don hurried Elaine into the house. "Let's take a shower!" he said. His arm circled familiarly around her waist as they walked up into the silent house. His spirit soared.
In the bedroom, both undressed. Don sat on the bed idly undoing the buttons on his shirt, his eyes welded to the figure of the great young girl who self-consciously began to undo the buttons on her own shirt. He had seen her, and had seen her naked. Just that very morning. But somehow, watching her now, it was different.
He knew that HE was going to possess her, to stick his rigid penis into her tight and wet pussy. HE was going to grasp those ripe young breasts so rich and full. It was HE who was going to know her body intimately, to snake his fingers into her buttocks, to feel her pneumatic smoothness, that lush frame so comfortably covered with soft, yielding flesh.
His eyes burned as he watched her, sullen and dark, yet glowing with mysterious beauty. Her brassiere came into view. Don bit his lower lip and paused. God, look at those tits! he said to himself, gazing at the lush olive skin that bulged up from the confines of the stark white cotton of her brassiere.
Elaine glanced at him, her dark eyes burning with vindictive purposefulness. She was going to show him a thing or two, and he would never be the same. Jutting her breasts forward, she threw her shirt off. Then, with determined precision, she unzipped her Levi's and shoved them down the creamy smooth columns of her shapely young legs, aware that Don was going simply crazy watching her.
He was. His eyes almost popped from their sockets as he gazed hotly at the magnificence of her young, olive-tan body, so very shapely, so alluring, so comfortable looking and ready. He gulped in a breath of cool, air-conditioned air as he watched her hands go back, back to the three small but significant hooks of her brassiere. As she unhooked them, he almost whimpered.
That brassiere seemed to spring forward, propelled by the force of those nubile young mounds of erotic tit-flesh they constrained. Those gorgeous round mounds of delicious flesh were capped by the most delicate of all nipples, two subtle nubs of rose-pink, surrounded by soft haloes of a lighter hue. God, how they jiggled! Slowly, as though they were heavy.
Then they swung out and down as she bent slightly, pushing her thin little nylon underpants down. Don whimpered as her olive belly was exposed down there, as he saw that magic triangle of curly black hair guarding the gate to her wet, tight pussy. Then those underpants went down, and she kicked them nonchalantly away and turned, arms on her hips, elbows out, toward Don. Her eyes glistened hotly.
Don had never seen such a beautiful specimen of womanhood in his life. My God, was she fantastic! He shook, spell-bound by her divine radiance and allure.
"Well," she said, "I thought you were going to undress!"
"Uuummmm, yeah," Don said, and began to mechanically remove his own clothes, still stunned by her incredible loveliness. His eyes were welded to her, and he was lost in yet another whirl of intense sensuality, one that was even stronger than what he had known earlier that very afternoon. His dream had been to make love to the untouchable Elaine, and now she stood before him, her legs slightly apart, stark naked. God, she was his!
Naked now too, his penis rigid and upstretched, Don smiled at the younger girl and moved toward her. The keen and neat feeling of his naked body against her pliant softness called him, inciting him to warm, rumbling lust, and this was his chance to do everything right. His arms went around her. His gaze froze to hers. He smelled the luscious scent of her delicious young body and his arms pulled her to him.
His heart thumped madly in his ears, and as he felt the softness of her cool body against his, every bit of resolve about taking a shower fled like snowflakes in a blizzard. God, all he wanted to do was hold her and kiss her. His lips smashed against those twin segments of ripe fruit that were her lips, and his tongue darted furiously into her wet, honey-sweet mouth.
Elaine almost cried out from sheer, provocative sexual delight as she melted into his embrace, her body molding to his as though they were made for each other. She felt his hard and hot erection pressing demandingly against the tingling flesh of her belly, and her hands went instinctively down the smooth and cool skin of his well-muscled back, down to those firm buttocks that seemed to call to her so demandingly. God, as his tongue speared into her mouth so hotly she almost came!
Her pussy was ready, even though it was still sore. Something in her belly demanded that she respond to this young man, answer the call of sex, give herself to him completely. It was nothing she, or any other girl, could fight. No, her strength was now needed to meet his fervor, to match it, to merge with it, to add to it, to build it to a roaring flame, to make him explode!! !
No, Elaine couldn't resist! Her body was suddenly ablaze with pure, provocative desire, and she clung to her man, to her muscular young man, Don, and her toes curled, her heart hammered, her mind threatened to desert her. God, she didn't want her young body to betray her like this. It was all wrong, but there was nothing she could do, nothing she would do if she could, except yield softly to the hot ministrations of his expert hands, which were grasping her, fondling her, raising welts of hot desire wherever they passed!
Breaking that fire-hot kiss, she cried, "OOOOooooohhhhh, Don, damn it! OOOOooooohhhhhhhhh, take meeeee!! ! "
He whispered into her ear, "Elaine, I want you! I want you so much I could die! God, you're a beautiful person!"
They kissed again, and Don led her to the bed, where he laid her gently on her back, his eyes filled with illustrious sensuality.
She was before him like a meal, about to be devoured. He was the wolf, the lewdly-aroused wolf that was going to take her, all of her.
Elaine's body seemed to rise off the bed, to her, to again experience the ultimate pleasure of hard masculine flesh against her. Nothing mattered now but his body, and she cried out again, "Donnnn, take meeeeeee! Huuurrrrrrryyyyyyy!"
He knelt quickly, his mouth watering. His face brushed her belly, olive-colored and softer than anything could be, and he went down, his lips pursed, and entered that luscious thatch of her black curls, inhaling the delicious scent of her budding sexuality. God, what can compare with a delightful young nymphet?? ?
Lying on her back, Elaine grasped his head and forced it down onto her burning pussy, impatient and almost delirious with sexual abandon.
Don delved in, spearing into the delicate and moist folds of Elaine's pussy. He sucked that delicious flavor in, his spirit dizzy and his body nothing but a slave to the intense heat of his roused sexuality. Nothing mattered now but sex, and Elaine was the vehicle.
"OOOO OHHHHHHH, DONNNNNNNN!! ! ! ! " Elaine moaned, her legs twitching spasmodically as she felt the divine ecstasy of his hot tongue flitting in and out of her sex-starving pussy. That wonderful sensation was making her mad with a frothy desire that could only be satisfied by heavy fucking. She needed something, a cock, anything!
At that very moment, Shirley and Fred were racing home, hoping to find the sexy youngsters. They had made a deal. . .
CHAPTER TEN
Shirley and Fred sat close beside each other, and that black Fleetwood sedan raced toward town.
"UH, UH, UH," grunted Don, beside himself with the erotic avalanches caused by the fabulous ministrations of the charged-up young Elaine. His first orgasm was building quickly, and so was Elaine's. They were both about to cum!
"MMMMMmmmmmmnnnnnmmmmnnnmmm," Elaine moaned, her face working frantically just as her boiling pussy was being worked so very wonderfully. Her smooth thighs were burning inside, and they were wrapped against the sides of Don's head, locking it tightly up against her. God, did what he was doing feel good!
Both wished that their fun would never end, but the strength of their emotions was too much, and the inevitable climax was now roaring up like a volcano eruption in both of them. Elaine seemed to be disintegrating under the ripping force of the fantastic new feeling. Minor explosions jerked her around, made her whimper and mewl, made her clutch Don desperately. She thought that she had come to some ledge of the world too fast and was unable to stop. Just as she really began to come, she tightened, screaming from deep inside, wailing pathetically, like a wolf caught in a trap in the freezing north woods of Canada. "MMMMRRRRROOOOOOUUUUUU!!!!!"
God, Don jerked and twitched, his lust-hardened prick jabbing in and out from the tightly clasping lips of that young girl. His nuts were blasting out their steaming cargo of hot sticky cum now, and he spewed his gush of steaming sperm deep into Elaine's wildly working gullet relentlessly, cringing and crying out from his own breast. It was wonderful, coming like that again! God, twice in the same day! Having his cock sucked, being brought all the way, was his idea of greatness! What gratification!
Elaine's climax echoed Don's, and she gulped quickly as she felt his cargo of seminal freight being delivered into her sex-hungry mouth. She slurped and swallowed, making wet, sluicing noises, her cool little hands fluttering like agitated birds as they flew over the youthful hardness of his body.
God, her red-hot cunt was now a river of blazing fire, seething deliciously as that probing tongue and those frantically sucking lips brought it to a fever pitch of extreme sexuality. Every fiber in her body was responding to the glorious release that was overtaking her, and she could have died on the spot. God, did it feel fine! This truly was what being a woman was all about!
Both arched and whined and locked together in that most wild of all orgasms just as Fred's handsome sedan slipped noiselessly into the upsloping asphalt driveway that wended up through the sumac and oaks.
"They're here," Shirley said, seeing her red car parked up by the garage door. She was, to put it mildly, relieved.
Fred was excited. He knew that he and Shirley had made a good new deal, one permitting each of them to fuck. It, of course, was a hard one to accept intellectually, emotionally, but it was an easy one to accept when it came right down to the nitty-gritty. She had told him that they could not only screw whom they wanted, but they could do it together, a thought which inspired Fred, because he still cherished lingering doubts about his wife.
Oh, she was sexy, sure; but he still didn't know if any great trust fund of affection for her had been restored in him, or if such a similar occurrence had been achieved with her. He was, at any rate, amenable. Mainly because he wanted to see her get fucked and because he wanted to make love to Elaine once again.
"Hurry," she urged him, scooting out of the car.
Shit, he thought, that damned woman is always in a hurry! For sex!! ! He twisted out of the car and walked briskly behind her, admiring the fine shape of her legs. Damn, he thought, they are better than I thought! She's not bad at all!
She had just gone a long way toward making him feel like the most important man on earth, something she had never done before. A good housekeeper and mother, she had been an antagonist almost all the time until today. Today she made Fred feel as though he was important to her. Through this bit of intransigent legerdemain she had secured his affection once again, as she had done years ago, and he didn't hate her, even though he still kept an eye on her, thinking that she might be just setting him up for the big Knock Down.
Both were still calm from their tryst, but the thought of coming upon those two beautiful sex-symbols, perhaps in a position of abandonment, titillated them, making them breathlessly eager to know, see, participate. Yes, they were prepared to get into the same big bed with the youngsters and fuck, elbows and ass-holes.
Now, entering the house, both were quiet. They smiled at each other and Shirley held her up-pointing index finger to her lips to indicate silence. Fred almost chortled.
Upon entering the bedroom, they stopped and stared. It was just as they had imagined it! God, there were Elaine and Don, lying in one another's grasp, upside down.
Incredible bitch! Fred thought! God, I leave her alone for a minute, and she immediately runs off and sucks some jerk off!
Look at that! Shirley was thinking. She admired the wonderful symmetry of the two young bodies.
Neither moved, except with that slow, relaxed motion of comfortable breathing. She smiled. The sight of two lovely young bodies intrigued her, making those old juices of prurience begin to course through her. Slowly, gradually, she began to breathe faster, the excitement of this situation filling her with sex' roaring call. Her hand curled around her husband's waist and she moved close, leaning against him and looking up into his face. She smiled and nudged him, indicating that they should undress quietly and join the dazed and resting kids.
Fred agreed, and they both undressed quickly. Then, one on each side of the bed, they each selected a corresponding mate and moved in.
Elaine let out a little yelp of surprise as she felt hands on her still-excited breasts. Opening her eyes, she was astonished to see Fred, and then she heard Shirley and Fred talking beside her.
OMIGAWD, she thought, are we all going to do it in the same bed?!
She had forgotten about hating Fred, and succumbed to the hot lips that pressed against hers searingly, to the branding-iron tongue that darted wetly into her mouth to mingle and dally with hers. God, she was lost, just like that, and her body arched and strained to achieve maximum contact with his. She whimpered and squirmed close to him, to be within the entirety of his grasp. Oh, it felt so fine, even if it was wrong! How could it be wrong, being so good?
Fred's excited stalk of maleness was stretching once again, trying to work its way into those honey-soft folds of her delicate, hair-fringed vulva. It seemed to have a will of its own, to know the way! Fred was also lost during this hot touch, and he sighed heavily after they broke the kiss.
Both could feel a commotion beside them, and they turned to look at Shirley and Don, who were already getting with it. They saw Shirley on her hands and knees, splaying her legs widely for Don to enter her from behind. "YYYyyyyyeeeessssss," she cried, feeling his hands going onto her hanging breasts and caressing them firmly.
Don's cock was a red-tipped spear that looked twice its normal size. Elaine and Fred watched, enthralled, as he placed that hard weapon in position, the rose and rubber of his glans pressing against the pink elastic knot of her anus that nestled exposed between her pliant white globes of buttock moons. Elaine gasped as she witnessed the inward pressing of that tight ring, and then she watched in quiet stupefaction as the knob began to force its way in, slowly, harder and harder, until it popped in, disappearing.
"AAARRRRGGGGHHHHHH!! ! ! ! " Shirley cried out, throwing her head from side to side as volt-like shocks from that lewd penetration raced through her, radiating from her widely stretched anus. God, the pain was almost unbearable, but it was the pain of sex, and had a strong component of exciting pleasure.
"Is she being hurt?" Elaine whispered to the enthralled Fred.
"Hell no!" he replied, reaching again for Elaine's full breast. The sight made him smile. Imagine watching your own wife taking it in the ass while fondling a ripe and lush young breast like Elaine's! Fred wanted to join in, and he looked at Elaine. "Do you mind if I try something? Something I've always thought about?"
"What?" Elaine asked, fearful that it might be something that might be so bizarre as to hurt her.
"I want to get into Shirley too. From underneath."
"Omigod!" Elaine exclaimed, shocked by the perverse suggestion. "Wouldn't that kill her?"
"Hell no! She'd like it!" Not waiting for a reply, Fred hugged Elaine and moved a couple of feet, to that sodomizing couple, and he snuggled under the slowly working couple, his eyes meeting those of his wife. "Can you take both of us?" he asked softly, in position.
God, new thrills of expectancy shot through Shirley at the thought of having two cocks in her bottom at once! "Oh, boy!" she gasped, settling down slowly, careful not to dislodge that penis that was now wedged so tightly into her rectum. That pain had diminished, and now everything was pure pleasure, excitingly erotic sensation that bridged the gap between her and Don. A new dimension was to be added, and she liked that very much. She had heard and read about double-fucking, but had never tried it. God, now she was going to do it with her very own husband! How sexy could it get?? ?
Fred, on his back under them, had his cock sticking up like some purple-veined railroad tie, ready for the exciting and wet penetration of the slender woman's cunt. God, as the sensitive glans grazed those soft curls of auburn hair that graced her sex-swollen labia, he almost fainted. It was so wild!
She settled closer, and he guided his blood-engorged glans into the yielding wetness of her hot and wet lips, abandoned to the utter debasement of what he was doing. He smiled grimly as he felt that she was super-tight, that the bulk of the boy's cock was closing off quite a bit of her vagina's capacity, and he knew that she was going to be stretched good and proper, that she was first going to scream out in pain and then to be fucked royally! It was the most exciting thing he had ever done!
As his red-hot rod of bulging sexuality began to force up into her vagina, Shirley gasped. God, it wasn't going to work! She just couldn't do it! She couldn't take two cocks at once! They were ripping her! Oh, no! "Sssssstttttooopppppp!! ! " she cried out, but her cry of abandoned pain only served to incite Fred to boiling lust, and he jammed up into her, sinking his cock up into the stretched and yielding depths of her wildly cringing vagina.
"AAAARRRRGGGHHHHH!! ! " she wailed, every ounce of energy exploding in a bright orange flash of extreme and shocking pain. She almost went unconscious from that sword-stab of shooting pain, and as she slumped she relaxed, her body almost melting between those two captive male bodies that sandwiched her so lewdly.
Then, as the two men began to slither their cocks in and out of her two sex holes, the pain seemed to dissipate and become replaced by the most exquisite rushes of incredibly sweet pleasure. Those twin weapons now became rods of wonderful and comforting sensuality, thrusting new jolts of the keenest pleasure through every cell and tissue of her sex-burning body. My God, she cried out wildly, yelling, "OOOO YESSSSS, FUCK ME!! ! FUCCCCCKKKKKK MMMEEEEE!! ! ! ! "
Witnessing this lewd triangle of writhing sex, listening to the hoarse and prurient cries of the obscenely trapped woman between Don and Fred, Elaine thought that she was going to cum without even touching herself down there. How could a woman take two pricks like that without dying, without being ripped in half? It wasn't even possible! But then listening to her cries for more, Elaine reasoned that it must be working, that the sensual woman must be enjoying the brutal punishment to her body, that everything about it must be sexy as hell. Imagining that it was she under there, receiving those two wildly slithering rods of plundering flesh, she gasped and was left breathless. Oh, no! She could never subject herself to something like that! Not in a million years!
Those twin cocks were driving Shirley mad, and she screamed out: "HAAARRRRDDDE-EERRRRR, YOU BASTARRRRRDSSS, HAAARRRDDDDEEERRR!"
Elaine looked closely, moving down. God, the scent was mind-bending! Pure, provocative sex! She saw Don's scrotum splat against Shirley's exposed thighs, saw that penis of his bury itself into the wildly stretched anus, saw the pink of her inner rectal walls clasp the penis when it was withdrawing, and then saw it fold and pucker in as that thundering cock plummeted in again. And, below, she saw the other, larger cock slam into the hair-lined lips of the woman's cunt, pulling those pink inner folds out with it as it came out, then jabbing them in again. This slithering protuberance was covered with a milky white mist of lubricating fluid.
Pandemonium! All this while they were sweating and writhing, chuffing dryly for breath, grunting, and between them, Shirley was crying out in the most obscene manner, urging them to fuck her faster, harder, faster, harder!! !
Shirley cried out again and again, unable to exert the least control on her sex-crazed body or her voice. It was total sex for her, and she squirmed and wriggled and tried her best to clench her holes to intensify the fantastic pleasure she was receiving from those two cocks she was servicing so sensationally. My God, was it even possible that anything could feel so good?? ?
Elaine found herself empathizing with the woman, sharing first that pain and then vicariously enjoying the utterly incredible lust-pleasure.
Can I do it? she asked herself, could I do the same thing? She found herself wondering now, seeing that Shirley was on the very verge of a bone-grinding orgasm.
Shirley's orgasm was coming, and as it approached all the stops came out. God, her arms and legs flailed, she tried to bite Fred, who was grasping her tits so hard that he thought he might possibly pull them off! Christ, every cell in her body was now afire, her blood-stream was a raging torrent of white-hot lava, her arms and legs just evaporated in the heat of this lust-mad orgy. She cried out in pitiful abandon, as though dying, "GGGOOOODDDDDD, I'MMMMM CUMMMMHIIINNNNNGGGG!! ! "
Don and Fred were coming too! They both pumped in a concerted effort to inundate the woman between them with a steaming spew of hot sticky cum, to fill her so that she would pop like a balloon!
Arching like the steel in a trestle bridge, the three tensed and Elaine shrunk back, knowing that she was witnessing the monster orgasm of all time. She gulped, gazing in wide-eyed amazement at the horrendous sandwich of rock-tense humanity all covered with wet and glistening perspiration, muscles tight against the white smoothness of the female filling, grunts and groans issuing from all mouths.
As those twin spews of steaming cum all milky white and scalding shot up searingly into Shirley's belly, she cried out in animal fulfillment! God, she felt every bit of it splash against the very thirsty and sensitive walls of her rectum and against the very sphincter of her tight cervix. Then, when she sensed that it was over, her body slumped and she fell into the deep and soft blackness of an intensely relaxing post-orgasmic daze.
All through this, she was conscious of a new relationship with her husband, one of honesty and openness. No longer would there be those sneaky trysts in tawdry motels, no longer would she burn with hot recrimination and guilt. Now there would be fresh air between them, and she could relate to him without that unfortunate veil of deception that had done so much to ruin their romance, to make a shambles of what she now knew could be a good, affectionate marriage.
And, while smiling to herself about her reconciliation with her husband, she heard Elaine's voice cut into her comfortable consciousness.
"Mom," Elaine was saying, "this is me! Listen, could I stay over at Joannie's tonight? I can? Fine! See you about noon, then."
Elaine smiled at the mound of spent humanity, knowing that it would be a while, maybe a couple of hours, until the men would be ready to do that very same thing to her. In the meantime, maybe they could have a few drinks, sit around and talk, get to know each other perhaps a bit better...
