There was a time in Bob's life when he'd have given his whole month's salary in return for some sex. For women were not a common thing for him to have. He had experienced the joys they possessed, but the encounters were brief and far apart from each other; like sudden bursts of inspiration.
Anne, Lorraine, and Louise were office girls. The regular nine to five typists. They too had experienced sex, but like the majority of the population in a city the size of New York, they were caught up in the daily routine-the maddening rush hours, and the hum-drum co-existence of their fellow working companions.
So it was a beautiful thing when they met by chance and agreed.
They, the girls, felt that Bob's hang-loose attitude definitely brought into their lives a keen excitement! While Bob's reward was spending no more nights alone, and as much sex as he could stand. How could one man survive the strain? How could one man get away with having something very much akin to a harem, and at the same pass out free sex at the office?
It was a challenge, true, but to the benefit of all involved, until one day it went just a little too far.
It was a beautiful thing to take ten o'clock breaks where Bob worked. Because instead of coffee, tea or milk, and a roll or doughnut; one had his choice of redhead, blonde, or brunette.
Not only that, but they came in different sizes, shapes, forms and fashions.
But like I said; it was a beautiful thing. But how far could it go? How long could it last?
CHAPTER ONE
Another night and Bob was alone. Color television, a drink in his hand, and the acute pangs of sexual frustration. What more could a man ask for, he mused.
Three months and no sex. A new job, good pay, lots of groovy chicks working around him-but here he was-a dinosaur's hard-on, and no one to give it to.
"Shit!" he cursed aloud, feeling the growing stiffness between his thighs. I need something new, he thought. Eight hours a day of looking up those broads' dresses can make a guy pretty horny, especially during the coffee breaks when they sit outside my office, laughing and bullshitting, exposing all that good gam.
You'd think that just once, one of them would come into my office and say, "Hi Bob! How about a pussy break?"
I'd settle for a little sit-on-the-lap, he thought, his desperation steadily building. I'd settle for a quick blow job, a hand job ... even a quick hand job.
"Shit!" he cursed again, the fuck now spurting from his cock. "They're all a bunch of fuckin' pigs!" He watched the ebbing remains dribble down his hand onto the floor. "But I need them, I need them," he cried, rolling over on his stomach and pounding his pillow with his fists.
Finally, he got up and walked into his bathroom, picked up his washcloth, generously wet it and soaped it, and commenced washing off the sperm.
Finishing the "bird bath," he strode nudely back to his bed, lit a cigarette and lay back-his tension temporarily satiated.
"What I need is a new approach," he said to himself, more or less talking to the walls, because that's all there was to listen to him.
* * *
"What you need is a new approach," Janis said as they lay back catching their breath.
Janis was the new girl in his life. He had met her in a small cafe off Sheridan Square in the Village. Janis was small, five feet and three inches in her stocking feet. Her hair was brown and silky and hung down past her shoulders. Her lips were full and her breasts were set high and tipped with luscious pink nipples, each of which were set in the center of matching pink bosses.
Her belly was young and firm. And Bob loved the way it seemed to disappear into the thicket of her pubic bush.
He rubbed her belly gently, glorifying in the heat which seemed to engulf her completely. Then he slid his hand further down, momentarily playing with the still-moist lips of her cunt. Lazily, he caressed the inner softness of her thighs.
"I'm serious, Bob," Janis said. She picked up where she had begun. "If I hadn't been so bold, there's no telling how long it would have taken you to get my pussy. You may not have gotten it at all."
Bob looked at her, and she continued.
"You're an attractive guy and all that, but you've got no 'come . ' "
Bob strained. "Exactly what do you mean by that?"
"What I'm saying is that although you saw me digging on you, you made no advance, no smile, no wink. You didn't really do anything to give me the impression you were really interested except that you kept turning to see if I was still looking at you."
"Then why did you come to me?"
"I guess I was just too horny."
"Well, unless you're a damn good actress, you don't seem too disappointed."
"I'm not disappointed at all, darling," she smiled, moving closer to him and sucking at his upper Up.
She went on to tell, Bob that although he was hell on the sheets, he wasn't too hip on his feet. But what the fuck did Bob care at the time? He had gotten his dick wet, hadn't he?
Bob wasn't really a handsome guy, but he had a nicely built body. He was just an inch short of being six feet tall, his shoulders were broad, and you could almost see the muscles rippling beneath his tight shirts. His thighs were strong and he seemed to move with a strong sense of male sensuality. Or at least Janis thought so.
And now, seeing him in the nude, she noticed a trickle of hair that started from the top of his crotch and ran straight up his stomach and chest between his pectorals, then spread out on both sides, giving one the impression of looking at a capital "T."
He reached up to fondle her breasts, squeezing and kneading one and then the other. With tenderness, he took a nipple into his mouth and sucked it.
"I'm trying to talk to you, Bob," Janis said, gasping slightly as he sucked her flesh into his mouth, flicking his tongue repeatedly across the tip of her hardening bud. Then he released her.
"I know!" He recaptured the nipple.
"But I can't maintain my train of thought while you're doing that," she gasped.
He sucked her more greedily. One hand held the fluid opulence, and the other rubbed her crotch. She was warming to his touch. He slipped one finger past the lingering sweetness of her inner lips and felt the muscles of her vagina clasp around it and draw it further up in her.
Her hips rolled heatedly from side to side, and he inserted another finger, pushing the both of them deeper into her sticky goodness.
She moaned and arched her back. Beads of perspiration glistened on her forehead like tiny jewels. Her eyes closed, and her breath came in gasps. Her head rolled from side to side.
Beautiful, Bob said to himself as he watched her. Absolutely beautiful. He was digging on the rhythmic movements of her body. Except for the slight movement of her thighs, every other part of her was still-while her hips rolled, undulating her cunt over his fingers.
Bending blades of grass, an autumn breeze and leaves, waves upon waves of an oncoming tide-that was the way she seemed to move her pussy. And somehow, Bob felt moved, moved to the point where he felt compelled to seek out the source of her sensuality.
He kissed the valley between her breasts. He kissed her nipples, and licked the under softness of each tit. Then, with all the tenderness he possessed, he began to kiss and lick his way down her body.
He thought, birds fly south, and so do I!
Down he went, over the gentle swell of her belly, stopping at her navel which was sunk deep in her stomach. With deliberate pause, he stuck out his tongue and slowly pointed the tip of it into the sweet dimple of her belly.
Janis froze. And he touched it.
Her breathing had all but stopped with this gesture. Bob felt her tension building and with all the finesse at his command. He continued to construct the excitement he felt within her.
He removed his fingers from the sopping wetness of her pussy as his tongue repeatedly dipped into her navel. With the ease of a professional stud, he licked his way from her navel to the top of her bush.
The sweet smell of her cunt was strong in his nostrils. Her mouth was open, with a gasp on the verge of escaping as she felt him slip between her thighs. She sucked in deeply, and the lips of her cunt quivered passionately. Her pussy was steaming and he licked the wetness out of her, drinking heavily of the pungent sweetness.
"Ahhh!" Janis sighed, throwing her arms abandonedly behind her head and writhing in complete enjoyment.
Her legs were spread wide and the inner softness of her thighs trembled in the quickening of her lust.
"Suck it baby, suck it!" she cooed. "Eat me good."
Making his tongue very flat and broad, Bob licked the oozing flow, letting it cover the entire surface of her quim. Then he rolled his tongue across her clitoris. Her back arched sharply and Bob could have sworn that no other part of her body was touching the sheets except her heels and shoulders.
Her hands clawed frantically at the air, as if striving to capture the raw lust and sensuality that filled her being. Again, Bob licked her hungry hole, and deep inside her belly she felt herself coming.
Come, come, come, Bob thought. Everything is come. Look, look, look, look at the come run. Run, run, run. Look at the come run from Janis' pussy.
He licked the insides of her as deeply as he could. His tongue was getting sore, his jaws were beginning to cramp up, and the pain was beginning to shoot down the sides of his neck.
But he wanted her cunt badly. Somehow he knew that he could or would never see her again after that night. He couldn't figure out why he felt like that but somehow he did. And the fear of losing that sweet box, and not knowing where he was going to put his dick on the morrow, inspired the moments for all they were worth.
Janis was blowing her mind.
"Holy Hannah. Holy shit. Eat my hole, eat it up, eat it!"
She raved on as Bob continued to eat her But she was fast approaching the point where she just couldn't stand anymore. She grabbed him by both his ears and the rest of his face-from the top of his nose to the bottom of his chin and shoved it deep into her busy box.
She clamped her thighs tight against his head and ground herself hard into his mouth. Then she added an up and down motion, literally washing his face with her twat, smearing cunt juice form the bridge of his nose to as far back as his ears.
Janis could feel herself coming. But she wasn't getting enough pressure to bring down the flood of come which begged to be released. She could almost feel her stomach swelling with the build-up of her passion.
Finally, the muscles in her ass locked and clenched in spasmatic rhythms. Her face was flushed, a passionate deep pink, as Bob would have described it.
She then quickly moved her hands from almost tearing Bob's ears off to locking them round his head. She drew her knees up, almost to her stomach, then threw her legs wide apart thrashing her pussy against his face as hard as she could.
Her body stiffened and she climaxed beautifully. She burst her grapes, drenching the inner succulence of her cunt with her womanly flow. The walls of her vagina contracted hard as if trying to clasp at the shortness of Bob's tongue, and she continued to cream in the throes of her orgasm.
Bob's head was reeling dizzily as he continued to slip and slide, lick and lap at the sopping pussy.
In the back of his mind he was screaming, nut up bitch! Get your rocks, your lumps. Crumble your cookies right here. Right here in my mouth.
And Janis did.
Her hips twitched in short jerking motions as the waves of passion gradually subsided. And slowly but surely she began to ease the pressure of her cunt against his mouth.
His lips were cracked in the corners and bleeding a little. Come was stuck in the hairs of his nose and a lot of it was still clinging around his lips. His jaws were sore and the muscles in his neck were killing him. And one can imagine his dismay at realizing he had physically torn the little ligament underneath his tongue.
He knew that he would find it difficult to talk. Not that he had anything so important to say. But if the pain was this bad when all he was trying to do at the moment was swallow, what the hell would be like if he had something to say? He wondered.
In any case, Bob concluded it would be wise to just keep his fucking mouth shut. And save what little tongue he had left. With a little luck and very little exercise, his mouth might heal in a couple of days. And maybe, if his luck held out just a little bit more, the muscles in his neck would return to normal.
Right now, they felt like two pieces of rope tied on each side of his ears and strung around the top of his head.
"Yep," he thought. This acute fixation for pussy sucking is quite satisfied. At least for tonight. But it's satisfied, and his dick was still hard. Even with the pain he felt in his head and face and mouth, the night was not yet complete without his rocks getting off.
He lay back, satisfied with his performance, and said; "Okay, girlie, do me!"
"Okay, pussy-face," Janis replied with a smile, momentarily satisfied herself.
Gently she slid her hand down Bob's body and grasped the throbbing cock "Wow!" Bob thought. There is nothing, absolutely nothing quite as exquisite as the feel of a woman's soft hand on one's cock.
Janis was stroking the stiff erection with thorough strokes. Slowly, but so slowly she massaged it. The very fact that her hand was filled with this throbbing, pulsating piece of man flesh thrilled her.
"It's beautiful," she said, heading down to kiss the tip of the head. Then she began to lick the underside around the base, barely touching the sac which contained the two fascinating balls which were now hung, or to be more exat, hugged tightly together. Tensed. Waiting for the climax that was sure to come.
Hotly, she laved the length of the prick. Taking long, heavy licks; reminding Bob of someone licking a delicious ice-cream cone. Back and forth, up and down, teasing Bob as she went. She filled him with sensation. Creating wave after wave of stimulating lustful pleasure, she licked him. And Bob was dying.
The muscles in his thighs and stomach were pulled tightly together. His prick was hot. So terribly hot and stiff and hungry.
It wanted to be enclosed, engulfed, to be housed within the confines of a wet twat.
A wet twat, Bob thought. Nothing in this world like it. Well, who in the hell ever heard of a "dry" twat. Mentally he bit his tongue even as the last syllable danced upon and then dove off the tip of his brain. Idiot! He cursed himself, remembering that he had once tried to dip his wick into a dry twat.
The thing felt like it had teeth on it! Nothing like going for a fuck and ending up with shark-bite!
"Ohhh," he moaned, feeling the tip of his tool slipping between the Janis's sweet lips. The muscles in his body pulled taut. He could feel the fibers of his brain pulling tighter and tighter.
Janis wasn't quite housing his cock completely because she wanted to keep herself from choking. But that which she did have was being sucked to the bone. That girl had gusto.
And when it came to cocksucking, Janis cared enough to give the very best.
Her lips clamped tightly around the shaft, creating a vacuum. She sucked hard, molding her tongue to the contours of the throbbing prick.
Bob "oooeed" and "ahhhed" in the quickening of his passion.
Just then, his cock slipped from her mouth with a resounding pop. Nothing was said, he simply slapped her on the ass and she rolled over onto her back. He hovered over her momentarily, then taking careful aim, he guided his weapon to the box her cherry came in.
Still juicy and wet, Bob thought, slipping easily into her.
Janis began winding her hips in wide horny circles, thrilling to sensations of being chocked full of man meat.
"Tear my pussy loose," she gasped. She was really getting hot now. Deep in the back of her box she was melting fast. Giving up brand new come, releasing the juices of her soul, and letting it cascade over the prick which now stuffed her completely.
But Bob didn't need any coaxing. He dug her word thing but he didn't need it. If it was at all possible, he was going to dig a whole new tunnel starting from her uterus up to her throat. He raised back on his knees, and taking both hands, he pushed her legs high into the air. Then, draping them over his shoulders, he settled himself into the saddle and readied up for the ride.
He began to move in short, hard strokes. This was called his "shoot the juice" move. And he continued darting his cock in and out of her, fucking her in much the same manner as a dog.
He was teasing her, taunting her, not really fulfilling the aching in her to be stuffed like she had been. She wanted to be plowed, to feel the furrows of her sweet hole being reamed from beginning to end, and all at the same time.
If a cup of cunt was all she had, then she wanted her cup to runneth over. If her cunt was as large as a railroad tunnel, then she wanted it stuffed with five miles of train. If only, she thought, if only I had an ocean of cunt. A universe of cunt. Wow!
It was easy for Bob to see her mind going. Her lips moved but no words came out. Only sighs and moans of passion. She wanted Bob to stop teasing her. Her cunt was not that big. All she possessed in the world was the little hot, creamy hole between her legs, and all she asked and wanted was to feel the seven-inch prick filling her the way she knew it could.
But Bob was still "shooting" it to her. Streaking in and out of her like a dream. One second there, the next second, gone!
The walls of her vagina squeezed tightly, grasping for something tangible. Janis ached for something solid, something real, but Bob just continued streaking and stroking. A drop of water for a woman dying of thirst. A smell of kerosene, when she wanted to burn like a fifty foot flame.
"Fuck me, you bastard! Fuck me, will you? Fuck ... ohhh yes. Do it, Bob ... do it!"
He did. He began to fuck her with his "shimmy," which consisted of literally trembling from the waist down each time he pulled away from her, and then giving her a long, strong stroke every time he took it home.
He could feel her fast approaching her orgasm, and he went into his "nut getter" which could generally be described as burying his bone in her to the hilt. Using the total length and breadth of his cock to full advantage and whipping it to her the way one would do any chick who (in cadence with the movements) moans, "fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck
She screamed-lost in the complete throes of her orgasm, and surrendering herself with total abandonment.
She came.
* * *
The sudden feel of hot come dripping down his hand and oozing between his fingers made Bob aware that he had been jerking himself off while reminiscing.
"Hot rocks!" he spat, shaking his head in self disgust and disbelief that he could do such a thing as he had just done. "If I want some cunt, then I've GOT to come up with a new approach. A new approach," he repeated, "a fucking new approach.
* * *
Mona Friedman lay stretched across her bed, almost calmly playing with the outer labia of her cunt. She knew that she was not going to be able to go to sleep until she had given herself a good frigging. No doubt about it, she thought. My little pussy is burning up. She growled hotly and rubbed her hand furiously back and forth across her aching twat.
With all this cunt between my legs one would think I could turn over a good fuck at least once a week, she thought. Just look at it. The lips are all juicy and red. It's not only a beautiful piece of cunt, she thought as she dipped her fingers into her wetness, but it tastes good too. She stuck the fingers into her mouth.
She growled again, then jumped from the bed and went to her dresser. She took out her hand mirror, then returned to her previous position and spread her legs wide apart.
Just look at that. The lips are all juicy and red, and oozing. She moaned, thrilling to the sight of her hot wanton sex. The little quivering nubbin of clitoris looked the size of a giant cherry, and, unable to stand the added pleasure of looking into her gaping maw, she began to jab three fingers hotly in and out of her cunt.
She pressed her hips down hard around her hand. She was going to make it. She could feel it, and now, the piece de resistance. Her cunt was large enough, deep enough and just now, it was juicy enough for her to begin the gentle but deliberate probing of her thumb on her quivering quim, which meant she now had all five fingers inside her.
How beautiful, she thought. It had been more than a year ago when Mona realized that her hands were small and slim in contour. Not exceptionally small, and certainly not unattractive, but beautiful and indeed slim enough to slide completely into the slick tunnel of love between her legs.
Fleetingly the memory of something comical and ironic flittered through her mind. Hah! Everyone said I should be a dancer of an acrobat, simply because I have the ability to maneuver my body into more awkward positions than the average woman.
No one knew, not even I, that the same ability would allow me the utter climactic satisfaction of shoving my whole hand into my cunt and fucking myself with an arm. I even have a choice of where I want it from the front or the back, like doggy style.
All those other horny bitches have to FINGER-fuck themselves, but only I or the very few like me can ARM-FUCK themselves.
She was on her knees and elbows (doggie position) with her hand in her pussy up to the widest part. She began grinding, writhing, twisting her hips furiously. Her hand slipped in completely. She was in up to her wrist. And with her greatest efforts she could clamp her pussy over more than a quarter of an inch past her wrist.
It was too much. Her come broke, drenching the walls of her vagina. Inside her cunt, she clenched her hand into a fist, shuddered violently and gave up the ghost. Her eyes rolled back in her head. Her hunger was not controllable.
Controllable-yes! But she climbed the peaks of orgasm and climaxed five more times, each time more violently than the last. Exhausted and completely satiated, spittal drooling from the corners of her mouth, she withdrew her hand.
She lay there, a glorious painting of pastel pussy. The shimmering sweat amplifying the fluid softness of her exhausted body.
A dripping portrait of uncanny lust.
CHAPTER TWO
After jerking himself throughout the entire weekend, it was no wonder Bob went to bed Sunday night with a bad case of "jerk-off fatigue."
He went to bed and dreamed: the room was spacious and richly furnished. The floor was covered with plush, thick carpeting.
He looked down and saw that his shoes were completely lost in the pile. The main color scheme was blue. Rich. Not too bright and not dark.
The way this fucking, well really fucking lighting was set up in the corners of the ceiling the room seemed to be filled with such a deep blue that the third wall looked a shade lighter than all the others.
It was the third wall that turned Bob on. Standing there taking on the appearance of a three-dimensional illusion was a seven or eight foot sculpture of highly polished bronze. It was a man and woman fucking.
Suddenly Bob realized the room was somehow dimly lit. It seemed to reek of a night-time atmosphere. An ideal light job for getting some pussy.
He gazed hard at the sculpture noticing the reflection of blue tint streaking across the dome of each figure. And for some reason, he turned. And noticing a knob on the wall, where ordinarily a light switch would be, he approached the wall, and turned the knob. Slowly. He didn't really know what would happen.
The room began to grow darker, and he reversed the action. The room brightened-more and more-until it now had the appearance of afternoon. It was only now that he could clearly see the fine detail of the workmanship.
The sculptor had taken great pains. The figures were real, and yet the piece was modern, each curve and contour smoothly flowing into the next. Bob paid particular attention to the flawless art of the pubic area of both figures.
He walked still closer. The male was standing in a semi-profile position, his arms outstretched. The woman's arms hung limply from her as she appeared-leaning backwards, as far as a woman could go. Her legs were spread apart, her pubis thrust forward and high. And gorged between her legs was the realistic detail of a throbbing prick.
Looking still closer, Bob could see the lips of her cunt, spread, and molded around the gorgeous hardness of the cock.
It was a beautiful piece of workmanship, he thought. And not only because his dick was getting hard looking at it. Somehow, he knew he was alone and free to give in to the sudden desire to masturbate. He unzipped his fly and pulled out his fast erecting cock. He milked it firmly back and forth. Then, not feeling completely free, he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off.
That done, he threw all caution to the wind, and decided to go all the way. He kicked off his shoes and completely stripped himself of all his clothing.
Now he was free. And again he began to skin back his flint igniting the flame of his passions with every stroke of his hand. He was grooving. Grooving to the feel of his meat in his hand. He was ready for a good fuck, but the freedom to pull his pud somehow seemed to help if not compensate for the fact that he was sharing his excitement alone.
There was no sound except for the rich, full-bodied sound of music which seemed to come from everywhere. And yet, he was positive he heard the strings coming from behind him.
Something broke his train of thought. He turned. And there, standing behind him, was a beautiful blonde. Even standing there stark naked with her fingers in her twat, her facial make-up and hair styling announced the sophistication of her upbringing. She looked rich.
Her legs were long and sleek, her skin tone almost milky white. Boarding school, Bob thought. Her tits were high and pointed. Her own European sports car, he registered. Her lips were thin and moist, tempting beyond belief.
This was the kind of chick he had always wanted to fuck. She represented the average fantastically beautiful woman on the street, crawling from the back seat of a driven limousine in front of a Broadway theater-or shopping on Fifth Avenue on a Tuesday morning while most of the other women are either pulling a straight eight, or cleaning house for hubby.
This was the chick you saw and said, "One time. That's all I want-to fuck her one time." But here she was-standing right in front of him. And if the fingers of her snatch didn't say she wanted to be fucked-TOUCH!
She'd get raped.
But no sooner had Bob concluded this thought, he looked to his left, and walking towards him was another gorgeous filly.
She was petite in size, but Bob found himself wanting everything she had. Her legs were young and firm, and she had a firm looking, round ass. Her hair was brown and sleek, and hung down to her shoulders in straight tresses.
Her tits were about the size of large party cups. The nipples stood out on her like the nipples on a baby's bottle. They had to be at least a good half inch. About the size and length of Bob's finger at the first knuckle.
Bob was dazed. He reasoned that his complete fascination was because they were both so outclassed when compared to each other. Both women were beautiful, and yet their beauties were entirely different from each other.
His brow furrowed deeply in thought for a moment. He looked to his right.
"Ooooooo shit-" he gasped. "Another one. A monster. An animal. No! There was another word to describe her. He was all too familiar with her type of woman. Not from experience, but he had seen her type often.
Animal! That's what she was. Her hair was dark, her eyes hot and fiery. One could not possibly say her skin was rougher or softer than the other two. But everything about her breathed the combination of femininity and animalistic passion. She conveyed more than a "hint" of sex. She "was" sex in its most basic form.
She was at least, or damn near, six feet. Her tits were huge and well shaped. They did not possess the rigidity of the other two, but still, they didn't sag at all.
Bob was captivated. Enraptured. Her flaring hips. Her heavy, strong looking thighs, like those of a belly dancer or something. Bob noticed the ripple of pleasure muscles beneath her legs and thighs.
He looked at her ass and was positive-she could fuck him beneath the pavement. He gasped sharply and began to jerk himself off more quickly. He couldn't stand the tension.
Then he saw her. A redhead walking toward him from the rear, and like the other three women, she too had her fingers moving busily between her legs as she walked.
Slowly, he turned, feasting his eyes on the beauty which seemed to surround him on all sides. The high class blonde who expressed the typical rich, while the fire in her eyes tinted her beauty with that of a high class slut.
The petite, who gave the appearance of the proverbial sixteen year old girl, built like a brick shit house. Her enchantment being that one has the feeling of fucking a child, while deep in her heart is contained the lust and the passion of a full bred woman.
The redhead, the fun lover, light-hearted, whimsical, and yet displaying with a lusty fire in her eyes, her basic desire to be fucked from head to toe.
Then the animal. The broad every man wanted to be raped by, but too many of them don't want to marry for fear of being sexually over-matched for the rest of their life.
But what the fuck was going on?
There were more, not only coming in more shapes and sizes, but now coming in colors.
An oriental approached him. She was an oriental wasn't she, he blinked in disbelief. Her small breasts, the brown capped tits, her lithe, small frame, packed with dynamite. This was the broad, he thought, who breathed the very essence of passive love, but put her ass on a bed and one could experience the function of a cunt that you'd never guess a woman never had control of.
One minute you'd find yourself screwing a passive, yet passionate vessel of nature, and the next minute you'd find yourself fucking a writhing, twisting snake sucking you deep in its belly.
The top of Bob's head was lifting.
An Indian? Can the fates rescue me, he thought. I didn't rape her mother, nor did I kill her father and brothers. She fucks with the hate of a hundred years of anguish and sadness.
A black? I must be going crazy. No fuck can be so complete, so satisfying. The very essence of her being is hot and mysterious. Africa. Her love is as dark and as beautiful as the continent. Brown mother earth.
What's happening, he wondered. What's happening?
The room was now seemingly able to hold all the different types and classifications of women in the world. One couldn't fuck them all. Not even in a lifetime.
Bob was completely surrounded, standing in the middle of a circle of women ... all of them moving. Each of them rolling her fingers around in her twat and closing in on him.
He woke up.
The dream haunted him as he sat on the edge of the bed. He could still see their eyes. In spite of all the physical differences among the women, they all had one thing in common. Their eyes. Each of them had the same look. The look of lust blended with her own form of beauty.
There were but two choices. Let the dream haunt him or push it from his mind.
He decided to try pushing it from his mind. His prick was hard-harder than two week old pumpernickel.
He forced himself to get dressed, and on his way from the bathroom, dropped two pieces of bread into the toaster. Anxiously he watched the coffee pot, hoping to see the red light indicating the readiness Of its contents.
Today was the day his plan would go into action. He had had a dream. And in that dream he got the idea. Nothing less would satisfy him. He wanted to fuck, but he also wanted to see some fucking. Imagine that, he thought-all that fucking going on in one room. Oh wow!
Eight-thirty. Time to make the trip. He reached for his coat, checked for his wallet and started out. He had thought he would get a little work done when he reached the office, but something happened.
No sooner had he gotten himself situated, he looked out through the plate glass window enclosing one side of his office and saw Lorraine bending over.
Lorraine was a gorgeous redhead. Her body was sleek. Built for speed, Bob thought. He had often noticed her before (during coffee breaks) and would grab his cock and squeeze it tightly, as he looked at her creamy legs crossed, her skirt riding high along the upper portion of her thighs.
Here she was again. Not even giving him a decent chance to start his work. She was bending over her file cabinet, searching diligently for suspense dated material and replacing those pages with more current paraphernalia.
It was indescribably exciting the way her plump little ass jiggled, making it more than obvious that she wore no confining girdle.
Bob was digging her hard, and at the same time feeling for his cock which was as stiff as a gang plank.
Her skirt was no more than a couple of inches below the cheeks of her ass. And now and then Bob could get a good glimpse of her pastel colored panties.
First she would stand with her legs almost together with just her little sweet buns wiggling every once in a while. Then she would spread her legs apart, as if to give herself enough comfortable angle to remain in an uncomfortable position (for her, but an exciting position for Bob).
The backs of her legs were like looking at mom's apple pie. Succulent and delicious. The backs of her thighs were creamy, hinting strongly that beneath their soft smooth texture lay her pleasure muscles. Muscles strong enough to squeeze around Bob's waist while throwing him a good fuck.
Now suddenly, she shifted her position.
Bob whined softly to himself. She had closed that particular file drawer and was opening the bottom one, the drawer closest to the floor. It was no longer just her legs and thighs. Her ass was out. And Bob could swear he saw the shadow of some stray pussy hairs hanging out the legs of her panties.
He was grooving. Grooving to the more than tempting sight. Grooving to the feel of his joystick swelled tightly in his fist. His eyes were glued hotly to her inner thighs. He was boring holes in the back of her panties, wishing he could slip his eyeballs up the leg band of her panties and look up her twat; while at the same time he felt frustrated at the fact that he must content himself with looking and masturbating.
But he had to admit his cock felt good in his hand.
Never have a faggot goin' down on this, he thought.
He was concentrating on the spectacle before him. But in his concentration he failed to notice Anne Mitchell passing the door of his office while going to the stock room, which was located on the other side of Bob's left wall.
She couldn't believe her eyes. She hesitated a little, straining to see all she could in the passing second. Then she proceeded to walk through the door of the stock room. As she entered, she looked back unconsciously and saw Lorraine with her ass stuck up in the air.
So that's it, she thought. Well, I would guess that looking up an ass like that would be enough to give a guy a hard-on. But hell, this guy was jerking off ... right in the office.
She shook her head in amazement. Here was a guy literally surrounded by people. And he was-she just couldn't believe it. Oh wow. She just had to have another look.
It was a known fact that Anne wore contact lenses, and twice before she had dropped one of them. So it did not look too unusual to see her bending down in the doorway of the stock room looking around on the floor. In fact, one of the girls did notice Anne. And she hunched one of the other girls.
They both looked over at Anne and laughed.
Poor Anne and her contacts.
But Anne was using her head. Easily, she peeked around the door and looked into Bob's office. Yep! she told herself. That's what he was doing-jerking off, pulling his pud, beating his meat, grabbing his goober, beating his bishop.
She looked again at Lorraine and smiled. Then focused her attention once again on Bob. His prick was standing out from his pants like a giant root welded between his thighs.
His hand was moving faster, but there was no mistaking the fact that he was grooving as much as he could with each stroke.
She looked hard at the stiff rod swelled tightly in Bob's fist. Hmmmm. She was beginning to feel a little stirring in her loins. Yep! No doubt about it. She was wetting on herself, creaming in her candy, coming in the country bush.
Whether or not it was an accident, Anne didn't know. Maybe a tune was running through Lorraine's little peanut brain. But in any case, she was now wiggling her ass from side to side. A
Anne looked quickly at Bob to see his reaction, and she was just in time.
He shot. A big gob of come spurted up hard arching gracefully, then splattering over the top of his desk.
"Oh wow-" she gasped before she could stop herself. Bob jerked around. Unconsciously, Anne was squeezing the muscles of her thighs together, and had it been possible she would have climaxed right there on the spot. But instead, all she was receiving was a great big sopping wetness which was seeping through the wispy material of her panties.
Bob's eyes were still hot with lust as he turned to her. But already, she could see the shade of fear drawing down about his face.
He looked directly into Anne's eyes. Neither of them could break their gaze. Anne's line of vision was focused hotly on the semen which continued to spurt from his cock in ebbing passion. And Bob was fascinated with the look of open wanton lust which pulled slightly at the corners of her mouth.
He looked at her still as the final remains ran down the back of his hand, and down along the length of his cock. Slowly, blindly, he reached into his top desk drawer and pulled out a tissue. Neither of them had broken their fixed attention to the other.
He was still staring at the expression on her face, and now she had given up all pretense of searching for her contact lenses.
He realized she was not going to panic, but instead, she was thrilled with the sight. The movement of his hand gradually slowed down. His pumps were dry. He began to make the motion of mopping of his come when she stopped him with her eyes.
Her eyes pleaded with him not to waste all that juice on a tissue. And with his eyes he asked for assurance-did she want to suck off the remains. Still using nothing else but their eyes, Anne said yes, and walked towards him.
They both looked quickly around the office to see if anyone was noticing them. No one was. So she leaned over his desk and licked quickly, taking into her mouth the sour taste of cold semen. Then remembering he also had come on his fingers and hand, she removed her mouth from his cock and licked the back of Bob's hand, and in between his fingers. Then she placed her lips over his cock once again.
In its state of semi-hardness, she was able to get all the meaty drok into her mouth. She washed it.
She sucked harder and harder.
Bob hissed lustfully. "Ohh baby, you've got to stop." Anne stopped, pouting a little.
"I dig it baby, I really dig it. But we haven't got enough time."
Slowly, the fog began to lift from her head, and she understood. They were taking one hell of a chance. Already one of the other girls in the office had noticed her now, standing there in Bob's place, seemingly "talking" to him.
She didn't feel too bad now. For she realized that Bob had probably saved them both from getting discovered and fired, not to mention the embarrassment that would probably have issued forth.
"I'll be back during coffee," she said. Then she walked from the office.
Anyone looking at Bob would have seen him collecting his work together and beginning to earn his salary. But mentally, Bob was wringing his hands with ecstatic delight.
Oh shit, he thought. Pussy! Box, cunt, twat, quim, vagina, snatch, hole, honey-pot, hairy dug-out, snappy gap. I've got a bead on some of it. Finally and at last. Forsooth and whereby. Ohhhh wow. Hell. There's a chance I might be getting myself a fuck break while everyone else is drinking "coffee."
She's a pretty cool wench. She didn't blow. She was digging it. She was actually digging me getting my rocks off.
He smiled broadly to himself. Bob's gonna get a pussy break. Bob's gonna get a pussy break. Oh gee. Oh pollywogs. Oh for death and delight. And fuck the Jolly Green Giant in his green bean ass. Yes. And may his mother be corn-holed with a pickle barrel. I'm finally gonna get laid.
Bob went to work, refusing to watch the clock. He knew the time would drag, but he also knew that time would inevitably pass. As surely as his ass had a hole, time would pass and coffee break time would come to the office as it always did. And something good was going to happen to him. No doubt about it. Something groovy was going to go down.
Ten-fifteen came. Bigger than shit the hands on the clock had made their move, and so had Anne.
"I'm here," she said softly. He was sitting with his back to her. Pretending that he was unaware of her immediate presence. Pretending that he was completely subdued to unconsciousness, engrossed-totally engrossed with the paper work before him. But I tell you, dear reader, the fucker was quivering down to his smelly toes. His prick was as stiff as the brass pipes in the men's urinals. His mind was as filthy as an out-house. And his rocks felt like hot coals burning in an Arabian campfire.
"Oh, hi there pretty girl." He spoke the words as softly as he possibly could, urging a deep tone of male sexiness into his voice. His face depicted a mask of subtle sensuality. He 'was quiet. Almost casual. Yet, his eyes were filled with a quiet gentility. He was all man, but his touch would be soft and sincere.
His eyes said that he cared for her, that he wanted to care for her. He wanted to share more than just a bed with her. This was what Anne saw in his face as he turned around. And now she felt totally disarmed and vulnerable. Yet, in a way she could not quite grasp or even begin to put into words, this new feeling she felt. This feeling of completeness.
Somehow, being in the same room with him made her feel like she might be twice the woman she credited herself for being.
One thing was for damn sure. She was twice as hot as she would be normally.
"I was hoping you'd come," Bob said, his face projecting the image of one who was falling deeply and seriously in love, while at the same time maintaining a reasonable hold on his emotions.
"I was hoping I'd come more than just once," Anne said, smiling at her weak pun. "We've got fifteen minutes," she said. "I don't know how long you can hold off, or how quick you can get an erection once you've shot your load, but I do know that fifteen minutes is more than enough time for me." Then she quickly added: "I can come a lot."
"It seems like you've given all this a lot of thought."
"I have."
"Then maybe you've figured out how we're going to get our lumps without getting caught."
"It's easy. I'll just go get my coffee and roll, and come back here to sit with you. Then, I'm sure we both can eat with one hand."
"You intend to be eating while I'm fingering you?"
"I'm not going to waste my money."
"Then go baby. Go!"
Anne left, returning shortly with her chow. No sooner had she put them on the desk than her left hand shot down to Bob's rod. She smiled sweetly at him in case someone was watching them. Bob got the message and smiled back at her. And in the same instant he was sliding his hand up her dress. He pulled back the waistband of her panties and dipped in.
"You're right," he said. "You do come a
CHAPTER THREE
Anyone looking into the office by way of the big windows would see Anne smiling. Together, they created a picture of casual acquaintance. Bob was now raising his coffee cup. Or at least that's the way it looked.
Too bad no one had x-ray vision, he thought. He was willing to bet every chick on the floor would be creaming in her drawers if they could see what he and Anne were doing.
He now had three fingers shoved into the sweet girl's cunt, and she was grinding her hips down on his hand. The scene was lusty, and putting out quite a smell, because Anne was close to getting her grapes. Right in Bob's hand. Where else! And you can believe that wherever Anne's grapes went, Bob's nuts were sure to follow.
Her hand was filled with the throbbing of his hardness. She could feel the thick piece of meat pulsating in her tightly clasped fist. The knuckles of her hand were white as the blood drained away from the pressure she exerted during this stereo masturbation scene.
But slowly a twinge of red began to spread through her. Bob could see the color starting from the exposed part of her lower neck, spreading upward, and now it was completely shading her face. She was still holding her cup of coffee within plain view of the windows of the office. But her lips were pinched tightly together.
Bob's face had also taken on a deep blush, and he wished he could control the flow of blood rushing to his face. But he couldn't. Anne was doing some job with his cock. She was jerking him off like a pro.
She pulls me off almost as well as I pull myself, he thought.
He had given up on the effort of trying to hold onto his cup of coffee. His left hand was holding onto the edge of the desk, as if his strong grip would anchor him down and cut the intensity of sensations he was experiencing.
"Tighten it up baby," Anne whispered, readjusting her grip on his penis.
Bob leaned back, allowing her complete access.
"Oh baby," she sighed. "I'm going to come. Do me harder. That's it. Ahhh yes. That's the way. My clit. Mmmmmm."
She was now looking directly into his face and he was looking into hers. Their eyes were locked hotly together. There were no secrets. Everything they felt was visible in their eyes. like portable TVs with giant screens. The emotions that filled them both, all the sensations, the consuming passion was open to them like the panorama of cinemascope photography.
She was pulling him faster, and Bob could feel the shaft of his prick stiffen thickly.
"Ohhh," she moaned, and melted away in his hand. Bob could feel the tremble start deep in her belly and spread throughout the depth of her cunt. He felt the heat from her burning twat.
Her come was thick and sticky between his fingers. But he couldn't have cared less. They were still looking deeply into each other's eyes, even as their passion subsided.
One of the girls across the way was beginning to notice them. Anne caught a glimpse of her, using her peripheral vision. She tossed her head back and laughed gaily. That was enough to satisfy the girl who was watching.
Anne returned her attention to what she was feeling with Bob, as he was now smiling at her questioningly.
"Lorraine was beginning to watch us," she said softly, maintaining a facial expression that would fool the devil himself. Bob understood, and nodded in total agreement.
"Will you do me again?" she asked. "I come more easily after the first one."
"Of course I will," he answered. "But you know of course that my heart died when my dick did." Anne laughed, partly for the sake of appearance, but more so because she was digging Bob strongly.
His fingers had never left her cunt. He began to rub her clitoris with his thumb, using circular motions. He pressed firmly but with consideration, then disengaged one finger and began to tweak her pulsating clit.
She moaned softly, clenching her teeth tightly together. She squeezed the slimy prick, thrilling to the way it slipped through her fist, coating the inner palm of her hand with its sticky substance.
Bob tweaked her clitoris again. She gasped and shuddered. They were talking with then-eyes again. He squeezed her again, massaging the swollen bit of sensitized sex flesh. Then he slipped the finger back into her drippy slot, keeping the other two fingers company. His thumb still rubbed her clit.
"I'm going to come again," she said hotly.
The muscles in her ass pulled taut, and she creamed again into his hand. The excitement of feeling her melting away under his manual manipulations was giving Bob another hard-on. Anne felt him beginning to lengthen and thicken in her hand, pulsating, and expanding within the clasp of her grip.
She began to groove him. He was getting hard, as hard as a brick. She could feel the thick rod straining at the roots.
"Something is going on over there," Lorraine said to her girlfriend who was putting away the last of a jelly doughnut.
"Going on over where?" Louise asked between her chewing and licking a gob of jelly from her fingertips.
"Over there, stupid. Something is happening with Anne and that new guy, Bob."
"He's not new. He's been here about three or four months-"
"I know that," Lorraine interrupted, and feeling a little pissed. Louise was an ignorant ass. "Look," she continued. "I've given a lot of hand jobs and I've looked at a hell of a lot of guys. And if his expression isn't one of getting his nuts off, my pussy is the Grand Canyon."
"Hello, Grand Canyon," Louise giggled.
"Look at them. Look at the expression on their faces. And I haven't seen either of them lift a cup or take a bite of anything since she first went in there."
"Why don't you just mind your own business. Anne might be trying to get a play with the guy. None of the other girls has said anything to him, except to speak to him."
"I know that, but-"
"You wouldn't be jealous, would you, honey?"
"Fuck yourself with a typewriter eraser, or something willya!" Lorraine snapped. "Something is going on Over there. I know it. I just know it!"
"Well, if you ask me, I think they're trying to get something going. But I've got a steady supply of cock, so I'm not going to begrudge Anne a chance to get some for herself."
"Yeah," Lorraine said, thoroughly irritated with the whole conversation.
Bob was digging deeply into Anne's sopping wetness. He could feel his orgasm fast approaching, and his fingers were a constant motion of sexual stimulation.
His fingers were digging, squeezing, and pressing, kneading the folds of cunt. The hot smell of twat wafted its way to his nostrils like the scent of jasmine floating down the Nile. The smell was sweet, and he inhaled it deeply into his lungs, wishing to himself that he could suck the heavy aroma into his body with the convenience of a cigarette.
"I'm coming again," Anne breathed hotly. "Make me come hard, baby."
Bob moaned and increased his vigorous digitation. Their eyes were still locked into that blazing stare of heated horny lust. He was grooving behind the sordid line of communication they had established with their eyes.
It was as if their hands joined their bodies together and their eyes locked their hearts and minds together. A fusion of body and spirit. But Anne was beginning to lose herself in the forthcoming wake. She wanted to maintain their communication line. But the aching in her cunt hole was causing her to slowly diffuse the direct contact of their eyes. So complex and widespread was her stimulated excitement, that she was finding it hard to direct it into the dual channels of her eyes and pussy at the same time.
Her eyes began to roll back in her head.
The contact was broken. Indeed the spirit was willing but the flesh was weak, Bob thought.
Without any warning, Anne bent over, they had been sitting side by side getting each other off. But now, with her bending over, she disengaged Bob's fingers from within her.
"I've got to suck it," she said, as reason for her actions. Down she went, her beautiful lips parting, curving into an oval of acceptance. Her lips cupped gently around the head of his cock. She sucked, fusing her lips to the contours of the cock head, creating an instant vacuum.
Bob moaned softly, the shaft of him stiffening like the braces of a radio receiving tower, protruding hard, high, and erect from the grassy field of his pubic hair. Lifting, reaching to conform to the standards set by her sucking lips with every hope and intention of capturing in essence each wave of titillating pleasure.
"Ohhh, arggh," Bob moaned a little heavily.
"Shhh" Anne cautioned, lifting her lips from the head of his cock, then quickly engaging them again.
In her new position, the only way Bob could get to her was by reaching over her shoulder and down her back, entering her melting honey pot from the rear.
No big deal, he thought. Suits me fine, as a matter-of-fact, I can get a deeper penetration. He now was able to shove his fingers into her damned near up to the knuckles of his hand. But he knew she wouldn't be getting enough stimulation with bringing her clit into the play.
So when he was thoroughly satisfied and contented with wallowing around in the mushy swamp, he removed his dripping fingers and stuck them into his mouth. He sucked them quickly then put them back into her cunt, but this time in such a way that he would be rubbing her clitoris with his thumb while stuffing three more fingers into the swampy marsh.
With this added stimulation, Anne could no longer content herself with the lavishly bestowed kisses upon the head of his prick. She frenched him fully now, lowering her mouth and taking in as much as she could of his juicy meat.
Her cheeks were puffed out slightly, as she tried to bring every muscle in her mouth into play.
"Oh, wow," Bob rasped, barely audible. She was actually grinding her mouth down hard on his cock, trying to fit it deep in the back of her throat. Bob could almost swear he was feeling her tonsils. And if it wasn't for the fact that he could feel her teeth every now and then, he could almost swear he was fucking her cunt.
Nothing like face fucking. Absolutely not. He was actually fucking her' in her head, just below the nose. Wow!, he thought.
At this point, Anne was sucking extremely hard and rapid. There was no throbbing in his organ as she frenched him this way. So direct and intense was her sucking, that his prick just stood there straining at the seams.
Bob was lost, caught up in total oblivion, while Anne had come two more times, making it a total of four orgasms. Little did she realize that Bob was best in bed "after" his first climax.
As a matter-of-fact, it had become a part of his love making. He would always push for his first climax, then settle down to ride with the second. If a broad could survive after that, one could be damned positive she wouldn't be doing much walking around the next day, that is, if Bob continued to ride her after his third orgasm.
So, it was not that Bob didn't want to come, but instead, he had perfected his bodily functions so well, that it was literally impossible to make him come in less than ten minutes, regardless of the extreme or combination of any source of numerous techniques. Or at least that was the way it had been up till now.
He was straining. No doubt about it. The man was straining for all he was worth, not really conscious of trying to get his rocks quickly, but merely submitting himself totally to the increasing intensity that racked his joy stick from stem to stern.
His joint had swollen to almost a quarter of an inch more than it had on any other given occasion. It was just a little thicker too. He was getting the sucking of his life. The aching in his balls confirmed this fact.
Suddenly, Anne knew he was about to come. Usually she knew because she could feel the penis pulsating and throbbing in her mouth. The signal was when she felt it stiffen thickly. The head would swell tightly. But she was administering a different technique other than the one she usually used.
So stiff and tight was Bob's prick since she put the "clamp" on him that it was virtually impossible for it to throb the usual sign. But Anne could still tell. Which said a lot for her, she thought.
She arched her ass up sharply, then shoved her hips down hard, shuddered violently, and came. An instant later, the shaft of Bob's cock recoiled like that barrel of a cannon and he shot. Splat! Right into the back of her throat, spraying the slimy gobs of come against the roof and back of her mouth.
She began to raise and lower her head quickly. Up and down, up and down, using her mouth like a second pussy. But Bob was flying too high to be of any assistance. He just lay back a little more, barely conscious of the fact that she was again melting in his hand.
"I know something is going on over there," Lorraine said again, and a little excited at the tingle in her little snatch. "I'll bet that little bitch is blowing him."
"Where, who?" Louise started to say something else, but now as she looked, she could see Bob laying back in his chair but Anne was nowhere in sight. "Maybe she left," she shrugged.
"Just keep watching dummy. I'll bet you a hundred bucks that hot little pussy is in there getting her goodies off!"
Lorraine got up from her desk and walked around to Bob's office. Neither Bob nor Anne saw her standing in the doorway.
"Just as I thought," she said, just loud enough for only the two of them to hear.
Slowly they turned to see her standing there, hands on hips, and a shit eating grin on her face. Anne flushed deeply while Bob's eyes were hard and disconcerting. Quickly he searched the face, trying to conclude an immediate prognosis.
Was she vicious? Bitter? Hateful and angry? Or was there a chance her immediate anger was tainted with a quarter part jealousy? Did she have a price? Could he pay it?
His prognosis was finished and he spoke. "What are you going to do?" His voice was soft, not meek, and not overbearing, but evenly spoken with the realization that they were powerless to stop her. There was an undertone in his voice which definitely said he would pay a price for her secrecy.
Lorraine grinned wickedly. But, Bob noted quickly, it wasn't a vicious grin. He detected a trace of humor at the corners of her mouth. His first suspicions were correct.
"I want a piece of the action," Lorraine said, looking directly into Anne's face. Anne hadn't bothered to wipe her mouth and there was still a small trickle of come dripping down the left corner of her mouth. Her eyes were like that of a wounded deer, as her eyes flashed quickly from Bob to Lorraine and back to Bob again.
"Is that the price?" Bob asked, allowing the hint of a smile to break across his face.
"That's my price, starting with lunch, today!"
"Set." He looked at Anne for approval.
She pouted, looking directly into Bob's eyes, then nodded her head affirmative.
"Oh, by the way, what's your bag?" Bob shot at her as she turned to leave the office. She raised her eyebrows slightly, not out of ignorance of his meaning, but in surprise, the fact he was so hip.
"I like, or shall I say love, having someone go down on me." She stepped back into the office, and in a more confidential tone of voice said; "Screwing is groovy, sucking cock is groovy, and getting it in my buns is groovy. But to emphasize my answer to your question, my bag is having my cunt eaten. And damn good!"
Again, she smiled wickedly, a smile Bob would grow quite familiar with. She winked at Anne, and giving an exaggerated wiggle to her ass, she flounced from the office.
Bob smiled, knowing she was totally ignorant that he had already seen quite enough to know what she had underneath the short skirt she was wearing.
He smiled again. The horn of plenty had finally been tilted in his direction. He was going to drink heavily from the sweet, sweet cup.
"Well at least sucking your cock will be my department," Anne said finally.
Bob looked at her. "Coffee break is over." He grinned sheepishly.
"Trying to get rid of me?"
"You mean you're not going to show up for the luncheon date with Lorraine?"
"I've never tried making it with other people."
"Never?"
"Never, but I admit it might prove interesting. I guess I'll be there."
"See you then, Anne."
"Yes?"
"Here's a tissue." He smiled and she smiled back and blushed.
Lunch time came quickly, and Bob was as ready as hell. This was what he wanted-his own gang bang. That was what he called it. Just imagine, he thought! Me, Robert Townsend, banging two broads at the same time. What a lovely way to go. What a fantastic way to kick the bucket. With the hard-on I'll have, they'll be lucky if they can dig a hole deep enough to put me in.
"Hi stud," came a voice from the door of his office. He looked up to see Lorraine standing there with another girl. He eyed the other girl questioningly.
"Louise, you know Bob. Bob, Louise." Lorraine introduced them.
"What are you trying to do, Bob asked. "Is she in on this?"
"She has to be-" Then Lorraine went on to tell him about her telling Louise of her first suspicions, and how, upon her return, Louise had insisted on being told what had occurred. Now, she too, wanted "a piece of the action."
"You seem like you have this whole thing planned out," Bob said.
"I do," Lorraine answered.
"Well, where are we going to go to do all this fucking and sucking?"
"The stock room."
"The STOCK ROOM? You've got to be kidding. Well get caught sure as hell."
"Look, you well-hung-dong. I want my cunt licked this afternoon. Right now, as a matter-of-fact. I don't want any shit. You don't want to give me a lapping say so. But I'll have you crucified and your little cunt-eyed girlfriend too!"
Again, he was searching her face. There was no malice in her eyes, he concluded. But she meant what she said. He was positive about that.
Louise said nothing, but simply looked back and forth from Lorraine to Bob. Shit! Inwardly, she was ready for a good tongue job herself.
"Okay," Bob decided, as Anne approached the group, unaware of what had just transpired. Seeing the extra girl she looked at Bob quizzically. He answered her only with his eyes.
"Okay, I said. Lets move."
"We're going inside the stock room," Lorraine stated, shooting Anne a look that dared her to question the decision.
There was none.
They went into the stock room and they closed the door.
"Everyone will be either out to lunch, or goofing off until their lunch time comes," Lorraine said, explaining her choice of doing their thing so close to home base. Her reasoning made a lot of sense in a way, but there was more to her decision than just that, and Bob "knew" it. It was the excitement-the chance of getting caught that thrilled her.
Lorraine wasn't wasting any time. She was already pulling up her short mini-skirt, while Louise and Anne merely stood their ground looking somewhat uncomfortable.
Against one side of the wall were boxes of several different shapes and sizes, consisting mostly of stock-one kind or another. Lorraine spotted it while hooking her thumbs into her waistband.
She stepped quickly out of her panties, threw them to Bob and began to tug at one of the big boxes. Guessing her intention, Louise went over and bent over to help, revealing a good deal of thigh while doing so.
So it begins, Bob thought, feeling the bulge pressing tightly against the inside of his pants.
His eyes missed nothing as the girls succeeded in pulling the box away from the wall toward the middle of the floor. Louise took the coat which had been hanging on her arm all the time and folded it carefully, then draped it across the box.
"First, a little digitation." Lorraine said, and focused her eyes on Bob's crotch. "You want to watch?" she asked, that special grin of hers spreading across her face.
Bob said nothing and made no move, so she parted the lips of her sex, watching Bob, as he stared hard into the inner pinkness of her.
"Come on," she coaxed, spreading her labias outwardly as far as they would go. Bob walked towards her, suddenly not as sure as he was before that all this was really happening.
"I'll take the pressure off that cock, honey," Louise said. She moved towards his fly.
"Fuck all this play acting," Bob snapped, suddenly taking control of the situation. He walked to Lorraine and positioned her firmly across the box so that most of her back and shoulders were touching the floor while her ass rested on the box. He pushed his hands against her inner thighs spreading them widely.
Then he spread her cunt lips and dipped his head into her muff.
Oddly enough he didn't go straight to her hole, but instead, he aimed directly for her clitoris. Once there, he flicked his tongue against the prick-by proxy, sending titillating shivers up through her beautiful body. She wiggled her hips in delight.
CHAPTER FOUR
I'll get this over as quickly as possible, Bob thought. Then I'll see what I can about keeping Anne as my constant supply of cunt. Then, and then. ...
"Hurry it up will you," Louise interrupted his thought. "I'm really getting hot looking at the two of you."
But who was paying any attention to her. Lorraine was almost completely gone as she breathed repeatedly, "fuck, fuck, fuck-" Her hips twitched furiously. Her sighs were deep and lustful. Her knees were pulled up and her parted thighs opened and closed.
"I got you, honey," Bob felt a hand at his crotch. It was Louise. Down came his zipper, in went her hand, and out came his goober. The only problem was, how to keep eating Lorraine and give Louise a good shot at him. There was no other way, Bob concluded, or was there . ...
"Up baby," he said to Lorraine, who was panting heavily and fast approaching her first come. She didn't say anything. She knew Bob wouldn't get her so close and then refuse to take her over the hill. Blindly, she obeyed. Anything to make him happy. Anything to make her happy.
Bob didn't bother to take his pants off. He simply opened them completely from the top and pulled them and his underwear down around the lower part of his hips. He lay on the floor on his back and motioned for Lorraine to position herself above him.
"You've got your choice," he directed. "Either sit on my face, or let Louise sit on my face and you sit on my cock. Anne wanted her cunt licked.
"Okay. Louise you can have my cock."
"What about me," Lorraine pouted.
"Okay, okay. Anne shift positions with Lorraine."
Anne pouted.
"I'll finger you now, then fuck you when
Louise is finished."
That's the way it was. Together, they were strung out along the floor from the window which was located at the back of the room, almost up to the door where they had entered. So now you have a pretty good idea of about how large the room actually was.
Lorraine straddled Bob's face and anxiously pushed her weeping, wanton, wishy-washy cunt up to his mouth.
Louise straddled his hips, and guiding her gapping maw, impaled herself upon the throbbing prong.
Anne was already in place by this time. And she was sitting as close as she could to Bob's shoulder, raising her knees to her chest, affording him with a convenient access to her snap-dragon.
Lorraine, who had been very close to coming before, now changed in her position, placed the palms of her hands against the floor and began to nudge her steaming twat into Bob's mouth with the veracity of a jockey coming into the home stretch.
Again she thrust her sweet cunt into his face and over his tongue. Again she lost her self, completely enraptured in her moment of pleasure.
"Faster," she breathed. "Faster, please, faster. Do me good. Make me come. Please make me come."
But Bob knew what he was doing. He had learned his lesson well, and there was going to be no more, absolutely no more jaw cramping, neck stretching, and hp cracking while "he" sucked cunt. He was pro now. And she would soon find out.
Delicately he traced the contours of her cunt lips, found them with his teeth, then bit down. Her body shuddered violently. The pain was null, but the joy, indescribable. Again she shuddered, thrusting her cunt hard against his mouth.
His hands gripped the firm, ripe fruit of her ass, as he luridly pictured himself eating from a bowl, or as he preferred, the horn of plenty.
Louise was trying desperately to maintain some sense of perspective. She understood she could not give total vent to the moans and groans which swelled inside her throat. But the throbbing cock inside her cunt was making it quite difficult. Heatedly, she rolled her hips from side to side. She was beginning to notice the sensual way in which Lorraine wiggled her ass as Bob ate her out.
She, Louise, had never thought of another woman as an object for her own pleasure. At least, not since elementary school. But that was different. All the girls at one time or another had played "squirrel." But now, looking at the creamy white globes of Lorraine's flesh squeezing together, and looking and clenching rhythmically, she couldn't help but feel a slightly added pleasure coursing throughout her being.
Still pushing her hips down upon the cock which gorged deeply into her time and time again, she bent forward and inserted a finger into the puckered brown ass hole.
Lorraine wriggled furiously, pleasingly Surprised at the raw sensuality of this perverse pleasure. At least, she thought it was perverse. No one else had ever stuck their finger up her lass. Never.
Seeing there would be no objections, Louise began to urge her finger deeper into the quivering hole. It was tight and warm around her finger, and she began to thrust her finger in and out the hole. It was getting good to her. The whole bit. All this sex in one room.
She bounced her ass up and down, faster and faster Bob's prick which hooked up in her like a blunt-tipped spear. Up and down she went, twisting and writhing her cunt sheath like a snake.
Deeper and harder, she thrust her finger into Lorraine's ass. Ahhh, yes. She could feel her come about to burst. She was fast becoming powerless to maintain her sense of "proper" control. What time was it? What day? Where was she? Where did everything go?
Then oblivion overtook her. No questions, no answers. For nothing else existed except her and the feeling in her cunt.
Surprisingly enough, Anne spoke first. "I-I think I'm going to come. Yes-yes I am. Ohhh-"
Bob twitched his hips furiously. He had to please her. He had to please them all. He didn't really know why he felt this way at the moment. But he did. And it was more than ego involved here.
Harder he pushed for Louise to get over the hump. He concentrated his tongue action directly upon Lorraine's clitoris. He flicked his tongue back and forth across the sweet little cherry. And at the same time he was screwing and thrusting three fingers hotly into Anne's sweet little hole.
Anne shrieked like a little mouse, immediately followed by a tormented gasp from Louise as she shoved herself fiercely down upon the shaft of cock and gorging her finger into Lorraine's ass as deeply as she could. And Lorraine in turn, started her down tremblings.
They were all coming except Bob. And he was as pleased as punch. Even though Louise thought she was getting his rocks off for him too!
Throughout the "coming" proceedings, Anne had been keeping careful watch on Louise and Bob. She knew Bob hadn't yet come. And now that Louise had gotten her grapes, Anne stood up, love juice immediately running down her inner thighs.
Gently, she pushed Louise off Bob, damn near tearing his cock off the hinge.
She was just in the process of taking her place upon the mighty shaft when Bob pushed her gently away from him. She almost fell over backwards.
"All right you bitches. This is it! Now it's my turn.
Anne looked hurt, but said nothing as each of them gave Bob their fullest attention.
"Anne-" Her face lit up. "Cock to cunt!" She was on him immediately.
"Louise. Finger to cunt. Lorraine-ream me!"
"Ream you-you mean--? "
"Ass to mouth! My ass to your mouth! Correction. Your mouth to my ass-hole!"
"I-I don't know if I-if I can. I never-"
"Ream me," he repeated.
He was the king. These were his subjects. Not that-no-they were his sex slaves. There is a difference between the two, he thought.
Just the thought of it made her stomach turn. But Bob was determined to break her. She's the cocky one, he thought. And if I can get her to eat my ass, even if it's just a little before she pukes, it will be the first step towards procuring a little harem. And I'm sure the other two will follow her example.
This was turning out to be much more than Bob had expected. He was getting some pretty good ideas.
Anne now lay on the floor facing upwards. Bob mounted her, exerting the pressure of his full weight upon her body. Louise sat in front of them with her legs spread and close enough so that Bob could reach her still dripping twat.
Slowly Lorraine got down on all fours, inching her way to Bob's ass. Bob was set. He waited. Outwardly, as cool as a cucumber. But inside, he was tense and anxious. Would she go through with it? Would Lorraine actually eat his ass out as he had directed her to?
He felt her face touching the left cheek of his buttocks. She hesitated momentarily, then gradually began to ease her face between his cheeks.
"Spread them with your hands," Bob again directed her.
She spread them. There before her eyes was the puckery pink little hole of his anus. She couldn't really believe she was doing this. But she dug this guy. He had a hell of a lot of balls to ask her to do something like this. And because of that, she was going to do it. Or at least try.
Quickly, she rummaged mentally through the names of all the guys she knew. She couldn't remember. She couldn't remember a single guy whom she thought had as much balls as Bob.
Yes. She'd eat his ass out. He deserved it. Balls of brass.
She touched it. She actually touched a man's ass-hole with her mouth. There was barely any smell. She was grateful. He was a clean person.
"Touch it with your tongue," he spoke rather raspy.
She frowned distastefully, then stuck out her tongue. She opened her eyes and looked at it again. It was sucked in tightly. Now it was puckered outwardly. She could see the little wrinkles around it.
She stuck her tongue to it again. Then frowning tightly, she shoved her faced forward. She didn't get all of her tongue in there. It was impossible. But more of it did penetrate.
His ass quivered passionately. Then suddenly, the muscles tightened in his ass, almost locking her face against him. Then he farted a short gusty force of intestinal gas into her face, literally blowing her face loose from his ass.
She immediately erupted in a series of coughing and gagging spasms because along with the blast had come bits and pieces of "ass-hole-curds-and-whey."
Her face was all scrunched up, and she was spitting bitterly.
Bob rolled over on one elbow, looked at her with somewhat of a shameful expression, and said; "-Sorry babe."
Inside, he was cracking up. Watching her face and waiting for her complete reaction. He was surprised when he concluded quickly that she seemed more embarrassed and disgusted, rather than angry or bitter about the deal.
If she buys this, he thought, then I've got her-right by the cunt hairs. And if I've got her, I've got the other two!
Perhaps it was her coughing attack which attracted Mr. Dewey's attention to the stock room. And maybe it was because he was one of those gung-ho motherfuckers who didn't feel he was doing his job unless he kept a constant check into every crack, nook, and corner under his jurisdiction.
In any case, he pushed the door open, stuck his head inside, and was about to retract it, when he suddenly shot his head back into the room. His eyes bugged out of his head, his mouth moved, but no words came out. He just stared incredulously at the lurid sight.
Two pair of pantyhose lay in a crumpled heap at one side of the room. Louise had kept hers on because she had gone to the ladies' room earlier and cut a hole in the crotch of hers. Now she sat with her legs spread wide apart, the hole in her hose agape, her cunt lips agape, her cunt hole agape, and with three of Bob's fingers still inserted up her. Not to mention the fact that her dress was rolled up around her hips.
Anne was still in her favorite position, decked out on the floor with Bob's semi-hard penis hanging half in, and half out of her hole. She was just shivering her way through an orgasm when the door opened.
She now lay there, her body stiff with fright, while Lorraine, still tasting the little curds of shit in her mouth, sat on her knees, her cunt away from Dewey, but all of her ass hanging out.
Dewey regained his voice, looked outside the door hoping desperately that no one else was aware of what was happening. Then, like he was in a drunken stupor, he entered the room, closed the door behind him and leaned against it.
He couldn't believe what he was witnessing.
"What the fuck is going on here?" he rasped, his voice locked in a confidential volume. "You-wha-shit!" He was still at a loss for words. His jaw worked furiously. You could see him straining at the seams of his self control.
"Well," said Bob, quoting a jest from one of his favorite girlie magazines; "you can't blame the man who invented the zipper for the undoing of so many girls, but he sure as hell speeded up the process."
The gnashing of Dewey's teeth sounded like concrete blocks rubbing together. He moved threateningly towards Bob, his fists clenched tightly, his knuckles white, and his face a deep purple. Purple indicating rage, Bob surmised.
"You cocksucking-" he started.
Bob jumped up. "Make another move and I'll break your prick in two pieces!" he shot back.
Oh wow! Lorraine thought to herself, a faint smile breaking across her face. This guy really had a set of nuts on him. They had to weigh ten pounds a piece. And that's a lot of balls.
Dewey stopped short, biting his tongue harshly between his teeth. His whole body trembled-like he was experiencing an epileptic seizure. "Get out!" he rasped. "Get the fucking hell out of here-"
"Let's go girls," Bob said quietly, almost too quietly.
Lorraine's heart skipped a beat. Somehow she felt, that the guy she was watching pull up his pants cautiously, was a walking time bomb. A bomb with a short fuse. She didn't want any trouble, but if there was any, she was sure that Bob would explode all over Dewey's ass and shoulders.
She wasn't frightened. Not with Bob, she wasn't. She wanted to laugh-it was hurting her inside. Dewey was a pig. She knew that. But to see him back down at the first sign of someone man enough to stand up to him-oh wow.
They walked out the door in single file. Lorraine was the last girl, so she slapped Dewey in the stomach with the back of her hand. "Seeya round fuck-face."
Dewey flinched as if he were going to give in to the urge to punch her face in. But Bob moved quickly up to him. Dewey flushed deep purple, but said nothing. Nor did he move a muscle.
"I'll be back on Friday to pick up our checks," Bob said flatly.
Dewey grumbled something and pushed his way past them.
There was little attention drawn to the three of them as they made their way out the administrative area. There were a couple of whispers, but nothing serious.
"Where the hell are they going?" one of the old ladies asked the woman sitting across from her.
"I don't know," her companion mused, as if trying to solve the riddle of the world. "I really don't know."
The trio continued walking, passing the statistical typist section, past the comp operators, the receiving desk, the accounting department, and then into the lobby.
Meanwhile, Dewey was back at his desk fuming mad. He hadn't said a word to anyone about the three people he had just fired. Nor had he made or taken any steps toward filling out the necessary paper work.
The fucking bastard, he thought. I should have hit him. I should have knocked his teeth out. Fucked up his nose. I should have kicked his ass. Embarrassing me in front of those girls. Girls? Bitches! That's what they are.
I figured Lorraine and that other girl fucked. But Louise. She's always so quiet. And he had his fingers all in her cunt. I could see it dripping even from where I was standing.
Shit, she looked good. Dewey groaned softly to himself, feeling the budding of a gigantic hard-on. He put his hands to his crotch and squeezed his penis tightly. He gazed around the office slyly.
His office was similar to Bob's, except that he was surrounded completely with partition on the lower half of the walls, and glass on the upper portions.
No one was paying any attention. Good. He leaned back, and with skillful dexterity, released his cock from the prison of his shorts.
And that little bitch, Lorraine, he thought. Kneeling there with her ass out, and none of them even tried to cover themselves. They simply let me look. As he was thinking this, his favorite secretary got up from her desk and went over to the file cabinet across from Dewey's window. She bent over, revealing a stimulating portion of her thighs and legs.
Oh shit, Dewey cursed to himself, his eyes glued hotly to the creamy texture of her legs and thighs. He couldn't help himself, so he commenced jerking right behind his big expensive, cedar wood desk.
Bob and the girls were just about to walk out of the lobby and into the street when he stopped.
"What's the matter?" Anne asked, clasping his arm tightly, reacting from the expression on his face, and suddenly afraid.
"It's nothing really," he answered. The other two girls were now looking at him also. "Don't get up tight. I was just trying to make up my mind."
Their faces registered the question; make up your mind about what?
"I'm going back up there," he said as a matter of declaration. "But I'm trying to make up my mind whether to kick his ass, or just give him a good cursing out."
"Look, you were great up there, but let's not dig up more trouble. I think I speak for all of us when I say that the reason none of us have said anything so far is because we're with you, baby. You're calling the shots. And if you don't want that, then we'll each go our separate way."
They were each smiling in approval of Anne's words.
"I'm calling the shots?" he asked, like he was giving them their last chance to change their minds. But they all nodded their heads yes.
"Then come with me!" he instructed, taking hold of Lorraine's arm. "We'll be back shortly, wait for us." Anne pouted a little. He winked at her, but didn't smile. Lorraine took his arm and together, he and she walked back towards the elevator.
He glanced at Lorraine out the corner of his eye. No hint as to what she was thinking. She said nothing, almost matching him stride for stride. And Bob smiled to himself. Nothing in the world like complete, absolute, blind obedience, he thought.
Dewey was just about to shoot his load into his pocket handkerchief, when he whirled around and saw Bob and Lorraine standing there looking at him.
A smile spread across Bob's face and threatened to crack the corners of his mouth. Lorraine stood there, her eyes darting from Dewey's cock in his hand, to Bob's face.
"Did I hear you say something about us being fired?" Bob said sarcastically.
Dewey tried desperately to mask the fear that was welling in his throat. He was trying to evaluate his position as quickly as possible. Searching for a loophole. Anything!
Nothing. His face broke out in a cold sweat.
"Lorraine. Go back and tell the girls they still have a job." Bob ordered.
"You can't do that," Dewey whispered harshly, forgetting himself and half standing before he realized his goober was still hanging out of his pants.
"Don't move!" Bob moved forward threateningly. "One move, and I'll call your assistant in here and let you explain to him what your prick is doing hanging out."
Dewey slumped in his chair, his anger rekindled. He was twice as bitter as before. If that were at all possible.
"Go get the girls, Lorraine," Bob repeated. No response. He turned. She was gone, convinced that he had meant it the first time. Convinced that he knew what he was doing. Yes, Bob thought, nothing like blind obedience.
A smile played across his face. "To use your own words, during that last bullshit meeting you had with us, your employees, 'fair is fair.' So, I won't tell on you, if you won't tell on me," Bob smiled, knowing how ridiculous his statement sounded, while at the same time knowing Dewey could not miss the threat he implied.
"What if I agree to this?" Dewey mopped his brow. "How do I know you won't break your word?"
"You're clutching at straws. Do we stay or don't we?"
Dewey slumped forward on his desk, his head down low. "Done!" he muttered.
"Then you can stuff your prick back in your pants."
Brock Harris looked up from the papers on his desk and absently gazed around the office. His eyes came to focus on Bob who stood calmly against the wall as he waited for the girls.
I wonder what "that" was all about, Brock mused. He wanted to go in the office and ask Dewey about it, but he knew he wouldn't. He was only a flunky here, sitting behind the desk and sporting the title of Assistant Manager of the Administrative Department.
My job, he thought, is to simply bear witness to, and observe the goings on around here, and then to keep my fuckin' mouth shut. like when he wants someone fired. I'm supposed to go tell them to get the hell out while he stays home that day.
Anne, Louise and Lorraine were now coming. They walked up to Bob who greeted them calmly. He said something to them that Brook couldn't catch, then they all turned and went to the rear of the office where their desks were located.
I'd sure like to know what the hell went down in that office, Brock thought. And too, what the connection is between that new guy
Bob and the three broads.
Concluding nothing more intelligible than the fact that all three girls had sweet looking asses, and that he would gladly fuck either or all three of them at the drop of a hat, Brock went back to work, but stored the questionable incident in the back of his head.
He'd find out sooner or later what was going on. He usually did!
As the train pulled into the station Mona Friedman scanned the cars for lone passengers. Nothing juicy, she thought as the train screeched to a halt and she got on, then proceeded walking from one car to another. Looking. Looking for someone to show herself to.
Ah, there was someone-nice looking too. She could see the tight bulge of his crotch even as she came through the car. She pictured f his jockey shorts jam packed with all that cock and balls, and picked her seat.
There were only a few people on the car, and the seat she picked afforded no one a view of her except maybe, her head and shoulders.
Mona was wearing one of those light-weight acetate pull-over jackets which came down over her thighs like the length of a micro-mini skirt. Thus, when she crossed her legs, there was more than just a "Little" peek at the shadowed apex of her thighs.
No panties? the guy's eyes bulged open.
Nona thrilled to the expression on his face.
Casually she glanced around the car again to make sure no one else could see what she was about to do.
No one else could!
She uncrossed her legs. The fellow's eyes glowed with hot flashes. Slowly Mona began to raise one leg so that her foot was propped up on the seat in which she sat. Then she began to part her thighs, and her eyes were glued to the bulge at the crotch of his pants which was quickly growing larger and larger.
Sensually, she began to rub her hand up and down the length of her thigh, at the same time parting her thighs wider and wider.
He was still looking as she slowly slid her hand down along the inner softness of her cocked up thigh until her fingers were sliding into the glade of pubic hair. Then with one finger, she slid her hand along the furrowed slit of her sex.
She could see the fellow's breathing coming more rapidly, and she knew he was tremendously excited. She took notice that the train was just pulling out of another station. So she played with herself lightly, never actually sticking her finger into the slot itself, but merely rubbing it back and forth along the groove between her fat cunt lips.
Unconsciously, the good looking chap began to rub his crotch, unmistakingly convincing Mona that she was turning him on to no end.
His eyes were glued to her hot spot, and the expression on his face excited her still more.
She hadn't really planned to come, but merely to tease him, or anyone she found for that matter. But the way he was looking-his handsome face, the intense heat in his eyes, and the way he was rubbing the hardness between his legs-was ungluing her at the hinges.
That was a fact, because she could feel the glue seeping between her fingers. So now, she rested one finger lightly against her clit.
The sensation was titillating. She had to rub it lightly. She knew she could come right there-right in front of his eyes. But not yet. The time wasn't right.
As if testing her, the fellow began to slowly unzip the fly of his pants. Now her eyes moved to his pants. The hell with his face-she was about to get a "real" treat.
He saw that she wasn't going to move or give him away, so he completed the operation. And out it popped. One big throbbing hard-on, made to order-Mona's answer to Swiss blue cheese.
Now was the time. The train would soon be pulling into the station. Mona began to concentrate frictioning herself on the cut, and at the same time the fellow masturbated himself. That was it.
The train was beginning to slow down.
* * *
"Come on, Martha," Brock Harris whispered to his wife, as he slid his hand up and down the length of one of her creamy thighs.
"I'm tired, honey," she whined pitifully.
"I'm tired too, honey, but hell. All I want is a little bit."
His pretty but ice-berg of a wife said nothing.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked, getting just a little frantic. "Do you want me to suck your pussy? Do you want me to eat your ass out. I will you know, if that's what it takes to turn you on. I'm sure you wouldn't want to suck my dick, but you can if you wish. Anything! Just name it right now, and I'll do it for you or to you. Whatever you wish. Honey? Honey?"
She wasn't listening.
"All right, then, dammit. Fuck you!"
"Where are you going," she cried, as she felt him roll off the side of the bed and head towards his clothes which he had hurriedly thrown across the floor in his haste to get some pussy this night.
"I'm going to get some pussy!" he snapped. "And she won't turn her back on me either!"
"Brock-Brock, please. Try to understand. Brock?"
She heard the door to the apartment slam shut and she knew he was gone.
Out on the street, Brock headed for the drugstore on the corner. It stayed open all night.
Calculating each movement, Mona began to unbutton the front of her little jacket-one button at a time, starting from the bottom up.
The handsome looking fellow looked like his eyes were going to fall right out of his head, as he followed the movement of her fingers, continually unbuttoning the jacket. And as each button popped loose, more and more of her full, ripe body was exposed.
The man was jacking himself faster, as if each button on her jacket represented a faster gear. So that as she popped the third button, he was pulling himself ferociously. And as the forth and fifth buttons popped, the movement of his hand was unto the-likeness of a blur.
As the train pulled into the station, Mona let the last button pop free, her lithe nude body completely exposed to the stranger's hot gaze. The brakes screeched as the train pulled to a stop. Too bad, she thought. She had hoped to see the stranger spread his joy before she got off. But he hadn't yet come.
She smiled crazily to herself, giving him his last look at her delicious flesh. And as she stepped from the train, she quickly closed her short, little waist coat, not wishing to be caught in such a condition by anyone save the chosen few-or was it "many." She shrugged. She had done this before. And who kept count anyway?
For a moment, her mind rambled on. It was true-she "was" freaky. And though her tendency to exhibit herself on frequent occasions filled her with joyful tingles of perverse satisfaction, she was still an incomplete woman.
She had not yet had a man. True! She wanted one, and wanted one badly. And she'd be good to him-whoever he might happen to be. But where the hell was he? In spite of the thrills and excitement of doing something so far away from normal sexual satisfaction, she wanted to stop. And she was convinced she would gladly trade the present thrills of exposing herself in public for a good steady supply of normal sex.
Up till now the pattern had been the same-work, home-work, home-work, home. Well, maybe something would turn up at this new job she would be starting in a couple of weeks.
She had already given her present employer two weeks notice.
Yes, she thought, maybe something "will" come out of the change in pace. And if it doesn't, then maybe I'll at least find another part of town to be freaky in.
She blinked as she walked into the sunlight, taking her time about walking home. So what, if she had gotten off the train two stops from home. The walk would do her good. It would give her a little more time to think, and a little more time to shake the loneliness she hid within.
CHAPTER FIVE
Bob felt great as he lay across the bed that evening. He had personally escorted each of the girls to their home-with the understanding that he would call them as soon as he got things arranged.
It was their plan to find a suitable apartment, and then move in together-all four of them. And Bob was to be the king, a bull in a pasture of heifers, so to speak. There was no denying he was quite proud of himself, and more secretly, his heart and his head swelled with conceit and contentment at this good fortune.
How well he understood the power he now possessed. And at the same time, he also understood very well the importance of using this new power with all the wisdom at his command. In other words, he was to take advantage of the situation, and make it work to the best interest of everyone involved.
He knew this couldn't be done over night, but he, even now, was anticipating every problem that could possibly arise, trying to broaden his scope so that he could grow into his newly acquired position with ease and comfort-for the welfare of the girls as well as himself.
He smiled suddenly to himself. Already, a part of his mind had detached itself from one thought and was entertaining something else. It was beautiful how he could work out more than one thing in his mind at the same time.
His smile broadened. Yes, it was a good idea. They would go to a nudist camp this weekend, if it were at all possible. He would call the girls right now. No-he reconsidered. Better wait until tomorrow. He didn't really know what their home situations were like. Maybe there were extension phones, and someone might overhear what he had to say to them.
He sighed heavily, and again centered his full concentration on anticipating possible conflict with living in an apartment with three women.
Tomorrow came, and Dewey avoided a direct meeting of the eyes as Bob strutted into the office that morning, as proud as a peacock. First mistake, Bob thought as he passed the window of the Administrative Director's office. Don't strut-be cool-be myself; and be, as much as possible, as I have always been.
The morning passed quickly, though he took careful note of Dewey's sudden appearance every fifteen minutes or so. Dewey was checking him. Fuck him, let him check.
Five minutes after twelve, the girls were standing at the side entrance to the building as Bob got off the elevator. They were laughing and chattering like magpies until they saw him approaching. Their eyes followed him and the chattering quieted down to a complete silence. He stood there directly in front of them for a moment, saying nothing. Their eyes still held his face as they waited. He maintained no expression. He only looked from one beautiful face to the other-from one pair of eyes to another.
Suddenly, his face cracked up into a huge grin, and they all burst out laughing. Immediately three different voices were talking, all at once, as his own voice struggled to be heard. Louise didn't mind being left out. She'd have an arm coming back, she thought to herself, as Anne latched on to one of Bob's arms, and Lorraine the other.
Right now, all they had was one lousy hour in which to squeeze a life-time. And she wanted to enjoy every second of it.
"What do they do at nudist camps?" Anne wanted to know.
"How the hell do I know? I just want to go! I've heard or read that they play ball, swim, and in general do everything anyone else would do, except they don't wear any clothes."
"Well, where is all the fun in that?" Lorraine asked. "They don't have any sex parties, or anything like that?"
"All I know is what I've told you. But I will add one thing. I can't possibly believe that all those people can be together for all that time with no clothes, and not once take care of any business."
Louise sniggled, cupping her hand over her mouth.
"Well," Bob continued, "is everyone game, or do I hear a better idea?" He licked his lips, and rubbed his hands together exaggerating the actions of a dirty old man.
The girls laughed.
"I'm sure there's something better to do," Lorraine said, her quick mind always thinking; "but until we think of it, I'm all for the camp and the nudists who go with it!" Anne and Louise agreed. The matter was settled and closed.
Bob called in sick the next day, telling his boss (Dewey) he had come down with some kind of virus. He also told his boss he would ask the doctor for a signed receipt, so he could present it as proof in case Dewey thought he was lying, just so he could get the day off with pay.
Dewey quickly rejected the idea, convinced that the prick, Bob, was telling the truth; and at the same time he hoped to hell the bastard had contracted a contagious and cancerous growth in his left testicle, and that the diagnosis was terminal. Sure, Dewey thought, after hanging up the phone; take a couple of days off-take a week-I hope your mother dies of rusted joints and hardened arteries.
None of the girls had Bob's number at the hotel at which he stayed, but he had theirs. They wondered why he didn't show up for work that Wednesday, but none of them asked around, for fear of creating suspicion.
Thursday passed in silence, also; and so did Friday.
It wasn't until Friday night that Bob called Lorraine. She was glad to hear from him.
"I don't want to go into it over the phone," Bob said; "but I found this great-sounding place outside of Hartford. Can you and the girls be ready about seven in the morning?"
"We'll be ready," she answered.
Bob gave her the other two girls' phone numbers and hung up after promising a surprise they all would enjoy.
He was up before six the next morning, anxious for the day to begin. He showered and dressed quickly, his mind in tune with the music which filled the room in soft, rich stereo sound.
The girls were standing on the appointed corner, obviously excited, and jabbering away as usual. None of them noticed the car pull up alongside them. And Bob sat there, pleased as punch, and grinning from ear to ear. He honked the horn. Louise and Anne looked towards the car but continued to chatter. So Bob slid over in the seat and rolled down the window.
"Ah, whenever you girls finish we can leave," he grinned.
"Bob!" they exclaimed in titillating gasps, all three talking at the same time, looking over the car, walking around its length, and generally making the big fuss Bob had hoped for.
"Is this the surprise?" Louise asked. Anne was rubbing her hand across the upholstery, then pulling her fingers away as if she had just been burned.
"This is it," Bob finally answered.
"So you got a new car-big deal!" Lorraine interjected with teasing sarcasm.
"No, my love-T don't have a new car-'we' have a new car."
"You mean it's for all of us?" Anne spoke. She couldn't believe her ears.
"All of us, for as long as we are together," was the reply.
There was a quick exchange of comments, sighs, and exclamations of appreciation. There was harmony, and a mutual feeling of well-being.
A couple of hours later they arrived at the nudist camp. Bob was surprised to find the receptionist fully dressed. He had assumed, for some reason or another, that everyone in a nudist camp went completely naked. But he didn't let it bother him as he sighed the register.
"When this is finished," the receptionist stated, "you may follow the guides who will show you where to put your clothes. For once you pass through that door," she indicated with her fingers, "you must become as everyone else-physically, that is."
"Do we have separate rooms in which to undress?" Louise asked.
"Everyone is going to see each other anyway, so there is really no need," the receptionist stated politely.
As if summoned by a mental command, a man appeared just as each of the dynamic quartet was finished.
"This is Mr. Santos. He will show you where to go from here, and, if you wish, he will remain with you as a sort of guide, for as long as you require his service."
Bob nodded in acknowledgement, then he and the girls followed Mr. Santos through the single door behind the receptionist's desk.
He, Mr. Santos, then led them to a room very similar to a gym locker room except that the walls were paneled, and the floors tiled, and there were long, low cushioned benches in the aisle between the rows of lockers.
The guide watched them, somewhat impressed as they all undressed, and the room literally hummed with the excited chatter of the girls. It was almost like they had all been here once before.
But none of them had.
Nude, and ready to grace the world with the vision of their physical attributes, they each followed the guide to the out-of-doors.
It was beautiful, the smell of fresh cut grass winging into their nostrils like the scent of jasmine drifting across the Nile, the sounds of the country filling their ears, and enjoyment for each of the five senses.
They took it all in.
The guide answered their questions, quickly, clearly, and politely. He was use to this-the questions. They were all questions he had heard before, and the answers came almost automatically.
He was still waiting for Bob to ask the one question every man always asked when first entering a nudist camp. But so far, Bob had asked nothing. He had simply been taking in the sights, and letting the questions and answers drift aimlessly into one ear and out the other.
After a little while, they told the guide that they thought they could get along without any further need of him. So he departed. He told them that lunch was served promptly-so when they heard the bell, they were suppose to make tracks. Fifteen or twenty minutes late held up kitchen service and clean-up procedures.
They walked past the volley-ball court, the girls watching the dangling penises as their owners jumped and bounced around scrambling around for the ball. There were also couples, or groups lying around on the grass. Some of the people looked at them, while others seem to not notice them at all.
"Hey! Let's go swimming," Lorraine said.
"Sure," Bob agreed with everyone else; and they raced towards the swimming pool. Bob didn't really try to be first. He lagged just a little, letting a couple of the girls hit the water just before he himself cleaved into the sparkling blue water.
They were in there about fifteen minutes or so when Bob said he was going to get out for a while, and that he would rejoin them later. They said they would remain by the pool.
He walked up the narrow cement path onto the grass. He then picked up a little dirt path and began to follow it.
He had nothing to be ashamed of. He wasn't badly built, and didn't consider a seven-and-a-half inch penis anything to sneeze at. So he merely fell into the groove and went forth into the woods, seeking whatever it was that lay ahead of him.
For the first hundred yards or so, the woods were thick. Not monstrously tangled and unkept, but merely thick. There were numerous places one could hide, providing one had reason to want to hide-say, for knocking off a quick piece of ass.
Yea, Bob thought; if I had to give my ass to the grass to get a piece of ass, this would be the place.
A little ways in front of him he could make out a small clearing. He made his way to it.
As he walked a little further, he suddenly gasped. For there in front of his eyes was one of the sweetest little chicks he had ever seen in his life. He reassessed his opinion. All the new chicks he came across looked sweet to him, one way or another. For in each new woman, he found something different, and attractive
But here she was, lying in the grassy clearing, one knee propped up, and-what was this? Diddling herself? Sure 'nuff. Well now, Bob thought, this little lady just might need a little help. Let's see if I can be of any assistance.
So casually, he lumbered over to her.
"Hi," he said, "whatcha doing?"
Startled, the nude woman glared at him for a second, then said; "What the hell does it look like I'm doing? I'm feeling myself off!"
"Well, you don't have to get sore about it. If you want me to leave I will."
She hesitated for a moment, her eyes taking in his complete physical being. Her eyes took in his not too bad-looking face, or so Bob judged himself. Her eyes took in his broad shoulders, narrow waist, strong muscular thighs and legs, and his flat, hard stomach. And with a slight glint of mischievous glee, Bob followed her eyes as they locked onto his seven-and-a-half inch dong.
"No," she answered finally, "you can stay if you wish."
"That's what I thought you would say." Bob moved over to her and seated himself down along side her.
"You're very sure of yourself, aren't you?"
"No not really-or shall I say, my self-assurance has nothing to do with my verbal answers."
"You're confusing me," she said.
"Then let's forget about talking, shall we?" Bob reached over and tweaked one of her nipples gently.
"Are you always so forward?" she asked.
"I thought we weren't going to talk. ... "
Her eyes said nothing as she lay back fully prone, and completely exposed to his ministrations.
His fingers again touched the nipple of the breast closest to him. He rolled it between his fingers, then cupped the whole breast. He squeezed it gently and she sighed softly. Then he squeezed it again, then ran his fingers up the curvature of the breast, along her shoulders, then up and along the column of her neck. She turned and kissed his fingers.
Down along her chin, the front of her neck, and then once more he was at her breast. But he did not stay. Instead he made his way down along her rib-cage and then onto her dimpled stomach. The cleft in her stomach where her navel lay hidden was deep, and Bob thrilled inwardly as it ran his hand back and forth along silky softness.
Then his hand was sliding down her hip and onto her thigh. He squeezed the fleshy meat. Then he began to feel the inside of her thigh, starting just above the knee; and he began squeezing his way up her thigh's inside, up, up until he was just along the outer ridge of her fat labia.
He squeezed it tenderly. She gasped.
He was killing her with all the teasing. He was killing her, and she was enjoying the melting flow he stirred within her.
Now both his hands were busy on her body. Squeezing both titties at the same time. Squeezing the nipples, sending tingling little sensations all through her. Suddenly, he cupped both breasts fully and squeezed. Her mouth opened and another heart felt sigh escaped her lips.
She was beautiful to look at when she was hot, Bob thought. But then, so were most women. The most beautiful moments in their lives, he concluded.
He was now almost straddled her legs, bent forward slightly, massaging, and caressing her; her hips, the long length of her thighs, then her stomach.
Then he moved up her entire length, and squeezed her tits hard, pushing them as flat as he could against her frame.
She moaned deep in her throat and raised her knees. Her legs and thighs began to open and close rhythmically. And she began to coo.
He smoothed her arms and shoulders, her tits, her stomach, and thighs, her knees and legs. He caressed her everywhere except on her pussy.
Now he began to work himself down toward her mound. She tensed as she felt him playing in the tendrils at the top of her Venus mound. Suddenly, he cupped her whole pussy in his hand and squeezed it. She sighed, then moaned as he slipped two fingers into her very moist cunt.
He could almost feel the inner muscles pulling his fingers deeper into her.
She wanted to squeeze her thighs shut around his hand, but she didn't. Instead, she continued to flutter them, open and close, open and close.
Now Bob began to move in for the kill. He stretched himself out along her length, touching her with his lips, everywhere he had at first touched with his hands.
But she wasn't going to stand for anymore of this. She placed her hands upon his head and began to gently push him downward.
Oh? Bob mused to himself. And inwardly, he smiled.
He let her continue her gentle urging and he slid down, down and down until he felt his lips brush against her hairs.
He opened his mouth wide to take her whole pussy in. He changed his mind. Instead, he resisted when she tried to push his mouth into her. He stuck out his tongue, and barely let the tip of it slip into the groove of her sex.
She gasped, and trembled slightly. She pushed a little harder to get the full effect of his mouth. Again, he resisted, and let only a little of the tip of his tongue slip into the groove. Then he began to move his tongue up and down along the groove, and she panted and sighed in earnest.
The lips of her sex were very moist and had already begun to dilate with the titillating sensations he was producing down there. As his tongue parted the tender folds of flesh, the moisture which had built and was continuing to build up behind them, began to ooze through the opening his tongue had discovered.
He could feel the warm, sweet flow oozing into his mouth. The smell of her cunt was rich and also sweet; and Bob was finding it just a little difficult to keep himself from ravaging this young beauty completely. He knew that if she let him, he could suck the cover off her pussy. But my oh my, what would her future be like without a cover for her box, he mused.
She was beginning to flow quite heavily, he determined, so he dug his tongue deep into her slot and literally scooped, or funneled off the rich flow of whey. He drank heavily from her sweet, sweet cup.
Her hands about his head, she trembled from stem to stern. She trembled in the quickening throes of pre-orgasm as Bob repeatedly laved her inner pussy with his broad, flat tongue.
Then he was on her clitoris. A guttural sound emerged from deep within her throat. She wanted to press him fiercely to her. But she found no strength in her grasp, and so, she lay there, simply trembling beneath his cunt caresses.
But Bob understood and took the initiative of cupping his hands around the cheeks of her ass and pressing her pussy fully against his mouth.
The moistness of the lips made them slip easily either side of his mouth, so that his mouth was now adhered to her pussy hole like a suction cup, while the outer labia clasped and slid along the sides of his jaw and cheeks.
Thrilling to the muff job, she arched herself into him as he shot his tongue inside her hole as far as he could get it making it as stiff as possible as he laved her.
The tremors she felt were growing stronger, and so did the movements of her trembling body. And just as Bob determined that she was cresting the first climatic wave of orgasm, he slipped up and sucked her clitoris into his mouth, pursing his lips then clamping them firmly around the thrusting little jewel of erotic sensation.
She screamed, and shuddered violently as he sucked the clitoris hard into his mouth, rhythmically making his sucking pulse with the throes that crescendoed up and down the length and breadth of her being.
Her fingers dug harshly into his head and hair as she peaked. Then her fierce grasp lessened as each succeeding wave finally lessened.
Hot for her, Bob now raised up, taking the situation between his legs in hand; then he deftly breeched the portals of her joyous harbor and sunk his ship. There, anchored securely, with no hope or desire to leave, he began to ride the waves of ever increasing pleasure.
Had he considered her as unto the-likeness of a harbor for his sinking ship? What a laugh. This chick was the ocean. Her arms were clasped tightly about his neck and she undulated her pussy up and down, over and around his steaming penis.
Nothing like straight fucking, Bob thought. No imagine do-hickeys, no swiveling or erratic gyrations, just straight, out-right fucking-moving all the goodness between her legs over and over along his length of cock. Gee willikers! What a smoking ride!
The pussy was getting stronger, he thought for a fleeting second.
She could feel his rod growing stiffer and much harder than before. She could feel muscular ribbing along the shaft riding along the inner walls of her. She tried molding the folds of her pussy around the gorging cock, but it was stiff. She had to take it any way it came. And it was coming to her hard and strong.
She twitched suddenly, in a motion as if she wanted to try to get a good grip on it, and then to bend it and shape it into whatever she wished. But it was much too hard. Much too stiff to deal with that way. One moment she had it secure. And the next moment it was drawing down along the insides of her while she could do naught but clasp onto it as tightly as she possible could.
But it never left her. No, not by a long shot. Bob was here to stay. Once more he sank it into her all the way to the hilt. They both could feel their pubic hairs touching, kissing, gently caressing each other.
Then she began to feel a big push starting way back in her dimpled stomach. It was building faster and faster. She began to buck her hips. She cocked her legs wide, bending her knees deeply to take him into her.
Harder and harder she bucked her hips, her arms still clasped tightly around his neck, but pressing him more closely.
Repeatedly she bucked her ass, jerking her pussy in short, hard bursts of movement, as Bob continually sunk into her all the way to the back.
The pressure was building tremendously in her stomach. Then, finally, the blessed release. She burst.
Bob now added long, hard thrusts to match her fierce short ones, jarring his pubic hilt against her clitoris with exploding bursts of pleasure that shot up her body and filtered throughout her body.
He could feel her melting down along the length of his cock. And like the soft introduction to an orchestration, the sounds of her juicing pussy grew louder as he continued to gorge his cock into her tight little nooky.
The big push over, her high began to lift quietly, her movements subsiding back into the quiet, smooth flow of undulations.
Bob rhymed with her.
She opened her eyes and looked at him. His body was still in motion, as was hers. Her lips parted and her tongue slithered out as she licked the curvature of her bottom lip. She started to speak and Bob jerked into her, grinding his groin hard against her clitoris.
She gasped and squeezed her eyes shut tight. She tried to speak again and he repeated the move, which again brought another gasp to her lips and a hiss from between her clenched teeth.
She could feel the building flow starting up again. Bob thrust hard into her again. He knew she would blow more quickly this time.
Her undulations progressed rapidly into short, hard fucking motions, and Bob fucked her back, amplifying her every movement with one of his own.
"Ooooh," she cooed in earnest exaltation. "Ohhh gosh, oh, oh, oooh oh!"
Bob thumped her hard. He was ready to squirt into her. She anticipated his need and desire and bared herself before him as he played out the long length of his prick into the inner recesses of her dribbling cunt.
Her pussy sucked on the rope and drew him deep into her again and again, squeezing, teasing, grinding, rhyming, playing and flaying, her thighs parted wide, the lips of her cunt gaped almost grotesquely around the rounded contours of his ribbed and heavily veined shaft.
She bucked her ass up hard to him and he felt her cunt slide up along the entire shaft of him, and he squirted deep into her. And at the same time he banged into her clitoris, the jarring sensation quaking deep in her belly, the tremor bursting the flood gates of her passion and releasing the loving flow of her canal.
Together they rocked in the mutual throes of orgasm; she, continually creaming, clinging and convulsing around the length of his shaft; and he pulsing and swelling rhythmically, while continuously squirting the juice of his lust into the rich pink recesses of her beautiful body.
Athletically, he rolled off her, their mutual hunger temporarily conquered.
She didn't try to speak again the whole time they lay there. She wanted to tell him how beautiful he made her feel. But she knew he realized it just the same.
He, Bob, wanted to tell her nothing. He already had three girls, and from the way things had just turned out, he was afraid that with his present luck, he just might end up with another filly in the fold. He couldn't take the chance that his mouth would get him into trouble.
Somehow, he found himself almost madly in love with every woman he fucked. That is, while they were together. For unless there was a stronger bond between them, he could easily forget them when it was all over and he was no longer near them. But in their presence, he could easily kiss their ass and do any other bidding that might tickle their imagine at the moment.
No, he would keep his fucking mouth shut. It looked cool, but more than that, it was safer. He had enough responsibility at the moment.
Speaking of responsibility-where were the girls? Were they still waiting for him at the pool? He wondered. He didn't want them to worry needlessly.
Shit, he thought, having second thoughts, they just might be out giving someone else that pussy just like I've just finished giving someone else my dick. Hmmm, I'd better get back and check my stock.
He leaned over the girl and kissed her on the mouth.
She slipped her tongue in his mouth before he pulled away. Then she took hold of his pecker, and as he watched, she planted a kiss solidly upon the head of it, sucked it for a fleeting instant, then let it go. She knew he was leaving. And he did.
As he made his way back along the little dirt path, he thought about what had taken place back there. The way she had held him, the sounds she had made, the feeling he had for her while he was with her; and delved more deeply into his thoughts, he only noticed in passing the hardening of his dork. He smiled to himself, and once more let his thoughts go.
CHAPTER SIX
The girls had been having a good time, splashing about in the water and checking the "salamies" on the guys around the camp. As a matter-of-fact, a couple of the fellows had introduced themselves to the girls and had introduced their wives also.
They had been having a pretty groovy time, though the only incident to occur during Bob's absence was that one of the fellows, while taking in Lorraine's charms during passing conversation, had grown a hard-on before he realized it, and then, in panic, he had dove into the pool to swim it off along wth his embarrassment.
All the girls had laughed, including the wives. But Lorraine noticed that the wife of the respective male didn't really think it to be as funny as everyone else thought.
"That was one of the funniest occurrences we've ever had," said Mrs. Cullen to the girls, one hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle.
"I imagine it is," one of the girls answered. But then they all forgot about it and went on having a good time and enjoying each other's company.
Now, after spending almost an hour in the water, they all lay around on the grass, just outside the cement pathway which cornered the pool on all four sides.
One of the girls was drinking juice from a can, the straw bent to a convenient angle for her almost prone position. Lorraine lay close by, reading one of the most recent issues on women's fashions; and Anne lay near her carrying on a conversation with Mrs. Tingle, wife of the embarrassed man with the hard-on, and at the same time, lying there on the grass with a big straw hat covering her face from the sun.
They all seemed to detect the growing disturbance at the same time. It started in the distance, then very gradually grew louder. It was almost a murmur, but it was growing louder. People were exclaiming one thing or another. like, "Wow, he sure has a lot of nerve." Or, "He must be new." Or, "I wonder what he's really like."
And it was something akin to this last statement, that caught the ears of all the girls at once, not to mention the two Mrs. who shared the girls company.
The murmur grew, and as each of the girls started to look around, they could see people stopping whatever it was they were doing at the time, and looking. They were all looking in the same direction.
The girls turned. Louise damn near choked on her juice, while Lorraine's eyes were glued to the sight, and Anne tried hard to suppress a bad fit of the giggles, not so much that the sight, but at the disturbance it was causing. For low and behold, there was Bob making his merry way towards them with one of the stiffest hard-ons sprouting from his legs you ever saw.
There! Right there-sprouting twix his legs.
Bob had noticed the disturbance as he entered the camp and made his way towards the pool and the girls. But it was only this moment that he began to realize that he was the star attraction.
At first he felt a twinge of embarrassment, but then he thought; what the hell-I've got nothing to be ashamed of. And so, with his head thrown up in the air, his shoulders back, and his chest stuck out, he displayed quite an air of elegance.
"Hi," he smiled.
The girls chirped their reply.
"Well, what's been happening since I've been gone?"
"You're the only thing happening here," Lorraine said with an amused grin on her face.
"Well, thank you, my love."
"Thanks hell. I'm ready to have my cunt eaten." She said this and turned her face to look down at the ground, sort of ashamed of her own bluntness. But Louise and Anne perked up their ears. They had heard her-no mistake about it. And they both wondered what Bob was going to do about it. Of course he could do nothing unless he was going to do it to them all.
"Any particular place you'd like to be eaten?" Bob asked. He was ready to oblige her anytime.
"Yes, my cunt, I said." she quipped. "Want to play games or do you want to be eaten?"
"I want to be eaten," she answered rather demurely. Then she added; "It really doesn't matter where you do it. I'd just like it done ... and some time right away."
"Okay," Bob agreed, "Let's try to find a place."
"We're going too, aren't we?" Louise pouted.
Bob answered her with his eyes, and they all got, and walked off together.
People were still watching them, but Bob's sturdy flag was now flying at about half mast. Big deal. What the hell did he care what they thought. He was about to get into something. And where would they be when he was tightening up three groovy babes? Nowhere! That's where they would be-standing around looking dumb.
They walked until they found a particular area where the trees came together in a clump. At one point, the trees were so close together they couldn't see the sun. Only by moving around could you catch a glimpse or a slight peek at a renegade sun ray.
"What about this? This looks good enough," Lorraine said, anxious to get it on.
"Groovy."
She picked out a nice grassy area, and after smoothing down the grass where she would place her ass (like smoothing down a bed sheet) she sat down and then reclined her body in a leisurely position. She drew her leg back, raising her knee.
Bob zeroed in on the shady bush of her pubis. A vision of loveliness, he thought to himself. Unconsciously, he reached for the belt buckle of his trousers, which of course, didn't exist. He smiled dumbly to himself then knelt down before her.
Lorraine closed her eyes.
She looked like a picture of health-a wealth of beauty-a fountain from which he would drink his fill-for the charm of her flowed in abundance.
"Hurry, Bob." Her voice edged with anxiety as she spread her arms out a little ways from her sides, her hands clutching at the blades of grass.
On the wings of a moment, Bob recollected the old days of his childhood back on the farm, when he too, with some of his cousins, brothers and sisters, would go down to the "old water hole", a beautiful lake about a half mile down the road, past where all the houses were. His eyes took in the rich sleek contours of Lorraine's mobile frame, as he breathed in the fresh country air of years gone by.
He could see his cousins standing at the bank of the lake. Then he saw them jumping in one, two at a time. And he also saw himself. He remembered. He remembered as if it were just yesterday.
His eyes saw the shadowy bush at Lorraine's apex, while his mind recalled his favorite diving position into the beautiful lake. Mentally, he put his hands together, as in the form of saying a prayer, poised himself-then-physically, he dove between Lorraine's thighs.
"Too much," he heard Anne gasp softly, as she and Louise took in the spectacle of his technique, (which under any other set of circumstances, would have looked ridiculous to say the least).
"He's just too fucking much," she sighed.
Lorraine neither saw nor heard anything.
She was already writhing and twisting her hips in short, jerky movements, unable to stand the intensity of the direct contact between his tongue and her body, while at the same time, unwilling to break it. She couldn't have let him go even if she wanted. Because Bob had quickly clasped his hands under her buttocks, and was pressing her front to his mouth with all his strength.
Louise said nothing. But she was beginning to fidget, twisting her thighs and legs, pressing her thighs together as if it would stop the melting flow she felt building up behind her cunt lips.
Her eyes felt hot, and her heart was racing like mad. It was as if she were in a dream world. As if the things she was seeing just weren't real. But she neither entertained nor dissected this train of thought for very long. She just continued to stare, letting her eyes take in the detail of every movement.
Bob never eased the pressure of his lips against Lorraine. He knew she was hot, and he had two more girls to go. He didn't fool himself for a minute, in thinking that he could get away with eating Lorraine right in front of Anne and Louise, and then think that they wouldn't want their lumps also. So he gambled. Or at least he felt he was taking only a little gamble. He felt he could make Lorraine come quickly if he maintained the intensity of his oral manipulations. There was a chance he couldn't because he could already feel the strength draining from his sinews.
But he groveled his nose into her like a bull-dog, partly because of his ecstatic delight, and partly because of his stubborn determination and uninhibited psyche.
Lorraine was now throwing her titties up each time she sighed. Her signs were heavy and getting louder and louder. Each sigh increased in volume, intensity and grew more rapid, as Bob continued to eat her out.
He had now grabbed hold of her clitoris between his lips and was flicking his tongue across it with increasing rapidity.
She now had a fist full of grass and earth in each hand, and squeezing it for all she was worth.
She was coming. She could feel it-building, building, higher and higher. She pressed her buttocks tightly against Bob's hands, sucking her belly in and out, harder and harder.
"Ohhhh ... ohhh ... ohhhh..." Her belly arched high off the ground, her titties bounced and bobbed around in fluid gay abandon.
Then she began to tremble.
From stem to stern, the waves of passion poured over her.
Made her! Bob thought to himself, as he sucked her sweet clitoris into his mouth hard, and laved the full length of his tongue across it, not wanting to make a dip in the peak she was hitting on all four barrels of her carburetor.
Made her, he thought again, as she arched there against his mouth, stiff and trembling in the quickening throes of orgasm.
Made her, he repeated inwardly, as he felt the warm flow of her inner goodness come into his mouth. Made her, he thought for the last time, as he felt the stiffened muscles in her thighs and legs begin to slowly relax, and heard her deep sighs of lusty passion quieting down into short gasps for breath.
The air hissed sharply between her teeth as she sucked in deeply, as he moved his tongue from her clitoris and slipped it up into her cunt. He licked her hard. Then slid his tongue up her again. Again she sighed heavily, then went limp against him, the muscles in her buttocks, now, totally relaxed.
He released his grip on her buttocks, then rolled over on the grass onto his back.
"Next!" he breathed, taking in completely the sight of day, and the forms of the other two beautiful women standing there before him, both of them with their hands between their legs.
"Me-"
"No, me! Me please, please can I be next?" Anne pouted.
"No, me," Louise sighed, while Bob found himself unable to ignore the heat of her flashing eyes. Damn, was she hot for him.
But Anne began to cry. "Me please. Please do me next. I can't wait, really I can't. Please let me be next," she pleaded. They were both blowing Bob's mind. There was no mistaking that Louise had the hots bad, but those were real tears coming down Anne's cheeks.
Dammit! That was one problem he hadn't foreseen. Idiot!
"Then I'll take you both at the same time," he stated, trying to seem more calm about it than he really felt.
"I don't want to freak," Anne whimpered, stamping her foot on the ground like a little girl, terribly frustrated, her pretty mouth looked so sweet when she pouted the way she did. She was readily crying. "I just want to be eaten the way you did Lorraine."
Louise said nothing, now. Even she had to admit that Anne had to be pretty hot to carry on the way she was doing.
He had to say something-he had to do something, and fast! It was getting out of hand. He had to maintain control.
"I want to be screwed," Louise said suddenly.
"Then that's going to take more," Bob said firmly. "Anne you're next, and Louise-"
He left it at that; opened his arms in invitation to Anne, and she came to him quickly. She positioned herself on the grass next to Lorraine, and spread her legs apart. Then she held out her arms to Bob as he got into position, put her hands on his head, and quickly guided his face to her cunt.
Lorraine opened her eyes and stared around her like someone just coming down after taking an over-dose of idiot pills. Ordinarily, she was a cool, cool chick. She maintained her composure at all times, and never (well, hardly ever) let anything upset her to the point whereas she couldn't function or think her way out of whatever the situation was.
Even when she fucked, she let herself go, but she was still cool. She had to be. She had an image to protect. An image she admired of herself, and loved. She wanted to keep that image of being a cool broad.
At least, that's the way it had been up until she met Bob.
Bob brought out the-what was it? She pondered for a moment for the right word. The "inner" woman-the "inner me", she thought. Raw and lusty. To give one's self over to free abandon-to feel all one could feel, and then to do whatever one did at the moment-any moment-each moment-each millisecond.
By rule of the book, Bob was as crazy as a loony bird. But in her eyes, Bob was "Loose." Free. He functioned when he had to function-like at the job, or business, or what-have-you. But by himself or with himself, he was loose. He functioned or did on the inspiration of each second-each moment.
Having sex with Bob was a "happening". Not just a mere thrill-not just a build up and-pow, orgasm. It was really a trip; an honest to goodness trip.
She concluded that what she saw and witnessed with her own eyes was a truth. That truth is an honesty. And Bob was honest-at least-and she understood that for now this was the strongest bond between them-at least, in sex.
That was as far as she got into her thoughts because Anne was babbling all sorts of things. She looked over at them. They were right next to her. When was the last time she could actually look around and see someone making out right beside her, she asked herself.
Well, except for the stock-room, and that had been with Bob, the answer was, never! Something like this had never happened to her before. Never in her life, nor in her wildest dreams.
Wow, she gasped inwardly. Even from where her own head was placed, she could see Bob's mouth fused to the lips of Ann's pussy. And she was sure she could see the juice around his mouth. If she kept watching this, she would surely get hot all over again, she thought.
But Anne was coming-coming on like a strong southern gale storm. She was hunching her hips into Bob's face. Yes, she was coming, pumping her hips like she was pumping a flat tire and had a date with a man who was going to give her a million dollars.
Lorraine laughed inwardly at her silly parable of comparison-of comparing an orgasm to a million dollars. No, those two things really couldn't be compared. Because she knew what Anne was feeling right about then: sharp fingers of titillating sensations shooting up her cunt and belly, zipping across the tips of her nipples, zinging her again and again until each sensation had built up into a tidal wave of passion. The feeling of something growing inside her being, her body, and mind.
She was all too familiar with the distinct feeling of his sucking mouth at the entrance between her thighs; then feeling the raw, pure pleasure of his flicking her clitoris rapidly across the tip of his tongue.
A shriek ripped into the silence of her thoughts, and Lorraine's eyes once more brought into focus the lusty scene before her.
Anne was goosing her pussy into Bob's mouth with increasing velocity. She heaved once, then died in a burst of pleasure, letting out one long drawn out animal grunt.
Her legs were sprawled out to either side of Bob. They were raised up off the ground, and just hung there in the air trembling-the soft flesh of her under thighs shaking and quivering like the last breaths of a wounded doe.
Finally, her legs dropped to the ground.
Bob slipped his tongue up her, the same way he had done Lorraine, helping her down from her high; like welcoming her back to earth.
That done, in about three or four good licks, he rolled away from her and motioned to Louise, who was on the grass in a flash, and stashing her ass before one could say; "I pass."
Just then, a pair of eyes spied them from a clump of trees. Hmmm, what's this? Bush-running in the open breeze. Grappling on the grass? Fucking in the forest?
Bob was unaware of the eyes peering at him and Louise as he strove to stretch his stride while atop the strapping young stripped pussy.
Louise, too, was unaware that they were all being watched. Her face and body were wet with perspiration, and she was filled with the ecstasy of the great fucking she was getting. Already, she could feel herself on the verge of a second come.
Inwardly, she squeezed the muscles of her cunt firmly around the stiff erection which stroked in and out of her cunt.
Bob could feel her contractions. Her pussy was tight and slick. And he knew he would soon empty his balls into her.
Suddenly, Louise wrapped her legs around his back and bucked her cunt up hard sucking him far up into her. The muscles of her gripped around his shaft like a fist, and she shuddered fiercely and came, while at the same time Bob felt himself squirting his juice deep into the back of her.
There was a series of moans and groans as they rode the waves of orgasm together. Then it was over. Bob rolled over and off her.
"You're not finished yet," came a strange voice behind them. They all turned and looked at the same time.
She walked towards them. Her hips were mature and full. Her tits were huge and stuck out far from her body. And the girls took in her physical dimensions, then looked towards
Bob to see what he would do. How would he handle this, they wondered.
"First," said the strange girl, who was actually a very mature woman. "First, don't say you're not going to fuck me because you are. And there is nothing any of you can do about it."
As she said this, she had now walked into the middle of their midst, and now stood before them with her hands on her hips, and a knowing smirk on her sensual mouth.
"This is a nudist camp, is it not," Lorraine asked, a hint of defiance in her voice.
"Yes, it is. But rules are rules. And there is absolutely no fucking allowed on the grounds. You do all your love-making here, just like you would do anywhere else-at home, in bed."
"Look sweetie," Anne spoke up. "Just who the hell are you?"
"I'm the one whose going to report you all, if your boyfriend here doesn't give me a good hard fucking ... and right now!" the woman countered.
As she said this, Lorraine and the other girls had stood up and walked over to her, more or less surrounding her; because one stood on either side of her, while Lorraine faced her head on. So just as she said the last word, it was not such a hard thing for Lorraine to raise back and slap the shit out of the strange chick who had been spying on them.
"Ow!" the woman hollered, as Lorraine slapped her three more times in rapid succession. Then Anne and Louise each grabbed one of her arms and threw her down on the ground.
"That's just a hint of what will happen to you if you ever try to threaten us again," Lorraine spat at her. "And if you open your mouth, we'll get you again. Do you understand?"
The woman nodded.
"Now get up, and get the hell out of here." Bob was dazed.
"In the other direction," Lorraine ordered as the woman had started off towards the main nudist encampment.
What in the hell have I got here, Bob thought to himself, with a mind-blowing inward smile. These chicks are keeping me to themselves-and they aren't taking any shit either. He quickly decided that he would give it much more thought when he was alone and by himself. Because at that moment, someone else was coming into the clearing where they themselves were at.
Waht the hell was going to happen now, he wondered.
"And who the hell are you?" Lorraine snapped, as a gorgeously well-shaped, brown-haired vixen approached within voice range.
"My name is Faith-I have lots of hope, and I hope you girls believe in charity," she smiled.
Lorraine was taken aback-and smiled broadly, before she could stop herself. "Well, you've got a lot of nerve, I must say that much for you."
"Funny, you didn't feel that way when I came in," shot a voice outside the circle. It was the girl Lorraine had just slapped. She had not yet gotten out of ear shot when the new girl appeared.
"Tell me, just what are you going to do with all this pussy?" Lorraine asked, throwing her hands up in the air as if exasperated with the whole scene, and looking at Bob. "You can't fuck us all!"
"And just why not?" queried the first girl, a devilish glint in her eye, as she took in Bob's long tool which was already getting hard with anticipation.
Louise and Anne said nothing. Each of the girls were now looking at Bob. How would he handle this? Could he really take care of all of them? What in the hell was he going to do?
"Come here," Bob ordered flatly to the first girl who had gotten slapped and thrown to the ground. She walked towards him seductively, the smile on her mouth widening, the devilish glint in her eyes softening into a look of sensual anticipation.
Bob pulled her towards him and pressed his mouth tightly against hers, sticking his tongue far into her mouth, as he frenched her fiercely. She melted against him, and he felt her body catch fire. For that is the way she felt to him, like she was bursting with heat.
She squirmed as she felt his hand sliding down between their bodies. And she was pleasantly surprised when she felt him lifting his wedge up between her thighs, prying the soft flesh apart, seeking the hot mouth of her inner sanctity.
Lorraine couldn't believe what she was seeing. Was he actually going to take her, the strange woman, right there on the ground-standing up?
That was about the size of it. And the woman quickly understood his intentions, and spread her legs apart. Then raising her lower half up to greet him, she released one arm from around his neck. Big Bob-Cool Bob, was having trouble locating her. So she reached down to help him.
Ahhhh. It was in.
She wriggled slightly, and felt it slide all the way up to the ceiling. Bob began thrusting up into her, and she followed his lead, conforming to the pre-set rhythm, and throwing her pussy to his penis in a lusty style. She began to warm to the newness of the position and Bob began to bump his groin harder against her, shoving his penis further and further into her, recapturing the depth of her.
She would spill over in moments, he knew. She was already beginning to tremble, her arms about his shoulders and back, her fingers pressing more firmly into him.
He now clamped both his hands and pressed her closer, adding a grinding movement to each bump before he retreated to repeat the same.
The new girl began raising her feet off the ground almost like she was prancing, prancing to a hot dance, as she tried to literally climb his limbs. And each time she lifted a lovely leg, Bob could feel the hot flesh of her thigh rubbing against his as she slid her leg back down to the ground.
He was now squeezing and kneading each of the fleshy mounds of buttock, pulling them apart, pressing them together, squeezing again, each time a new way, with a little more pressure in a slightly different spot.
She began to shake and he knew she was ready, and he began to thrust harder. The girl gasped loudly, releasing her hold on him and bent over backwards. Her long hair almost touched the ground. Her arms dangled loosely, hanging limp from her body.
This was better than Bob had anticipated.
Bob began to growl his growl-that growl of determination, that growl of steadfast stubbornness, as he was definitely unwilling to give in to the ache he began to feel in his arms. For all her weight was against them, and the pounding action that he was steadily applying to her pussy was only adding to that weight three-fold as he dug again and again into her succulent pussy.
Her unshod feet were now standing on top of his, securing her leverage as she reared back and let go with a scream that echoed twice before it died. And at the same time she screamed, Bob thrust hard into her, wedging his cock in as tightly as he could into her well of warmth and goodness.
Ahhh, yes, he thought to himself, as the warm flow of melting cream around his cock spoke of his success, and was thus the reward of his mighty efforts.
He hunched into her again and again as the girl trembled in the ebbs of her draining passion, the testimony of her fulfillment melting down the inner softness of her thighs.
Then, suddenly, Bob let her go, to the surprise of all who stood witness to the fact. He just let her fall, her lithe frame sprawling awkwardly to the ground.
The girl just lay there, her legs and thighs askew, her hair a disheveled mess, her breasts rising and falling sharply, and her lips rounded curvaceously into a smile of joyful fulfillment.
She actually dug it!
"Now you!" Bob said, motioning to Faith, who was more than a little ready to see what her fate would be.
He motioned for her to stand where she was and to spread her legs apart. Then he stooped down, put both his hands up under and between her legs, grasping the globes of her ass, then started to lift upward.
She understood, and immediately circled her arms around his neck and helped to hoist herself up. Now she was jacked up to the point where her pussy hovered just above his cock and nearer to his navel. She then wrapped her legs around his waist, then inventively, she reached back and under her thighs, grabbed for Bob's prick and began to quickly insert it into her steaming cunt.
She was already fired up. Just the thought of what they were about to do and the way they were going to do it, turned her on tremendously.
With all that weight so precariously balanced, it was no wonder that when she located the tip of Bob's penis to the entrance of her, then let it go, it shot straight up her pussy. Right to the hilt!
Bob hissed, while at the same time, Faith gasped delightfully, as they both felt the sturdy cock wedging itself tightly in the snug little fit.
"Up and down, baby," Bob answered her questioning eyes, as she wondered how they were going to create any friction in the strained position. But still she looked at him.
Bob dug his fingernails into her ass cheeks and she jerked upward involuntarily. So that's what he meant, she caught on.
Her arms clasped tightly around his neck, as she began to raise and lower herself over the throbbing prick. It was encased deeply inside her. And it felt deliciously good.
She gasped again, thrilling to the fruitful delight of sliding up and down the stiff rod. She raised herself up again. She felt the ridge around the head of his prick wedging against the folds of her inner pussy. Then she lowered herself again, but still cautiously. She didn't want it to end up sticking out through her navel. And she damn well didn't want to tear anything up there.
She raised up again, and sure that he had her weight under proper control, Bob slapped her on one of her ass cheeks as hard as he could, then quickly regained his hold of her.
It was a resounding smack, and the pain shocked her. She instantly forgot her control, and slammed back downward impaling herself tremendously with the thick prod of cock.
She screeched, feeling the tip of his penis jab harshly against the tip of ye ol' uterus, and feeling his balls slap in between her ass. It hurt a little, but it also sent a jarring shock of titillating pleasure shooting through the little nubbin of her clitoris. And she was just a little frightened as she raised herself up again, paused, then let her entire weight do a free-fall back down on the impaling shaft.
She screeched again as she felt the shaft shoot far up into her banging against the door of her uterus. But the thrill was unsurpassed by anything she had ever experienced before. And so she did it again, and again, and again, until she was sliding up and down the shaft like a well-oiled piston.
A gasp twisted her mouth each time she raised herself, and a screech ripped from her each time she shot back down onto him; until finally, she was moving like a Jack-in-the-box with a broken trap-spring.
Then she finally shot down and stayed there, growling and grunting; straining against the hard, throbbing meat, digging out her cunt with it, pressing hard for the climax that was sure to come. And it did.
A shudder creased her body at the same time as Bob jerked into her with the summation of all his strength, and she burst open like ripe fruit, creaming into the mouth of the knotted prick inside her.
"What's this?" came another voice. "Hey! You can't fuck out in the open like this ... what the hell's going on here anyway?"
It was a man. Probably one of the camp's regulars, Lorraine thought. In any case, she was feeling just a wee bit bitchy, and her pussy was just a little itchy.
"I said-" the man attempted to speak again; and Lorraine shoved him unexpectedly down on the ground, catching the poor bastard completely off guard. She straddled his head and before he knew what was happening he was staring into a beautifully delicious twat, that was ready to trot, feeling hot, and fdled with Forget-Me-Nots.
"I say, mffff-"
Lorraine shoved her hot pussy right in his mouth.
"Suck me off you bastard," she rasped, her face frowning in the torture of prolonged delight. "Suck it off you bastard ... suck it. Yes ... that's the way. With your tongue. Ohhh, yes, yes."
She was creaming in his mouth before you could say "Jack Rabbit had a habit."
"An orgy," another female voice shrilled, the graceful lines of her body floating out from between the trees like a golden wood nymph. "I'm for some of that," came a joining male voice. "Me too," came still another, and yet another.
Louise had had her share of looking also, and she melted into the arms of the first male to come within her grasp, the both of them sliding down onto the grass, the prick slipping easily into her wet nooky.
Anne was still trying to grasp what was happening when she was suddenly pulled to the ground and a pussy shoved hotly into her face.
"I'm sorry," said a gentle voice in hot eager tones, "but I've got to get off now ... this minute. It's too much to watch."
"But-m-f-f-f-"
I've never eaten pussy, Anne cried out inwardly. I've never ... but ... gee. Oh wow. Now someone had her by her wrist, which was guided to a stiff, hard and throbbing cock. She recognized the touch instantly. Oh wow. He wants me to jerk him off at the same time-whoever he is-oh wow.
She began to groove her hand back and forth along the length of cock.
Bob saw it happening as if in a dream-almost like it was happening in slow-motion. At first he wanted to blow his stack. Who in the fuck were these people? But at that instant, a dazzling, little blonde came running up to him, her face filled with eager fascination and bewilderment, as if she too was wondering what was happening.
Fuck it! Bob resigned inwardly, the pissy side of his inner nature coming to light. And that's exactly what he did. He grabbed the lithe, little body of the beautiful, sweet girl, spread her legs after throwing her to the grass, her eyes wide open at the spontaneous assault upon her private person; he grabbed hold of his cock, found the rim of her pussy. ...
And he fucked it! High and low-hard and wide-he fucked her young, sweet pussy, bracing her passion against the heights of heaven, then drowning her pussy in the hellish delight of devilish orgasms.
Again and again she peaked, cresting the waves of sexual climax, each orgasm more wicked than the last. And upon the announcement of her fifth, Bob felt himself about to come.
Anne had long since sucked her unorthodox partner through two crucial orgasms, and was now, for the first time, herself, being eaten out by a female.
Louise had reached three blissful and shattering releases before her first partner spurted off his load far into the back of her; and she was now approaching her fourth climax, the first with this, her second partner.
And Lorraine had succeeded in reaching two creamy bursts of her own before her bestricken partner forced his mouth from her slobbering cunt, whipped her over onto her back, crawled between her blushing thighs, and commenced to fill her succulent hole with expert inspiration of his own.
A love feast of the gods-or an orgy of the earth-men. One could call it what he wished. But in layman's terms, there was more fucking and sucking and jerking Off, and cunts being eaten out, than one could shake a stick at. And indeed, around so much sexual delight, if one could find nothing better to do than to try shaking a stick at each individual scene, one deserved (in the least) to lose count.
One young puppy, and that was what she most resembled, for she was petite in form of body, straight black hair, with an angelic expression of utter, and exasperating delight, was on both her hands and knees, while some wild young stallion slipped it to her from the rear, and obtained and maintained possession of all the lusty goodness of her hot, little cunt. Or at least he possessed it through one of her own orgasms, until finally he spent his seed joyfully into her.
Still, another young nymph sat on his face, while he greedily drank from her sweet, sweet cup.
"Harrrggghh," Bob growled savagely, as he felt the come burst from the tip of his penis and spurt heavily into the tight young cunt which housed him so snugly.
"What the-what in tarnation-" The main orderly and guide sputtered as he entered the clearing where the lusty feat was taking place. "What the fuck is going on here?" he hollered.
"We're fucking," Lorraine shot back at him, just finishing the feeling of her cheerios.
"I'll have the authorities down here. We'll kick all of you out of here. That's what we'll do." And he spun on his heel and sped back through the woods toward the main encampment.
"Let's go," Bob shot, trying to pull himself together, so that his fogged up mind could respond to the quickness of his physical movements.
Lorraine was checking the other two girls, making sure they were all together, then they shot for the woods.
The others were still trying to get themselves together, as the quartet disappeared into the woods. Some of them hadn't even heard the verbal exchange of words and was stupidly looking around them wondering what the panic was all about.
Bob and the girls took a wide turn as they approached the building where they had stored their clothes. He really didn't want to get caught, especially with the girls with him. They were peeping around the building and ducked out of sight just as the guide sprung from the induction building, with two uniformed men trotting closely behind him.
Then they ducked into the building, dressed hurriedly, and split.
Safely tucked away in their car as Bob sped down the road, they all cracked up laughing.
"That was the wildest ever," Louise gasped between giggles.
"I'll say," Anne chirped behind her.
Bob chuckled to himself. He was happy too! It had been groovy. And once again he had pulled the bunny out of the hat.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Bob didn't see the girls that Sunday, but instead, he lay dead in the crib. He would have their apartment set up and ready for them to move in, by the end of the week. It should really be groovy, he thought to himself. A lot of shit had gone down, but everything looked good. They could make it, he thought.
Lorraine was the lead girl. She held the stuff together. She watched his ass like a hawk. Not out of mistrust, but for his safety. She knew he was calling the shots, and she dug that. But he didn't have eyes in the back of his head. So she watched his ass. When a person wanted to give you the shaft, that's where usually they would put it, right up the old bung hole.
Bob was important to her. She couldn't really put her finger on it. But he was. Bob knew, or felt this. Also, somehow, he felt a stronger bond between himself and her. But then, on second thought, he couldn't really say what he felt for her was any stronger than what he felt for the rest, it was, well, she just watched out for his ass, and helped to keep him from getting the shaft. And she watched the other girls, looked out for them.
It would work, he told himself. Somehow, he knew it would work. Now, if he could just keep Dewey Dumb-dumb off his ass.
He slept.
Brock pushed a coin into the telephone box and dialed.
"Hello, Helen? Brock! Can I see you? I know it's late, but could I please see you?"
He detected the slight trace of amusement in the tone of the voice at the other end of the line. Let her laugh, he thought to himself. I can handle her. No hang-ups there. Somehow, with her, I don't have to worry about shooting off too quickly.
Why does it only happen to me when I'm with my wife?
Fuck it. Why worry about it now. I'm going to get some, and I'm going to nail her fat ass to the mattress. I'll fuck the shit out of her. I'll push her cherry so far up in her they'll use it as a stop light. I'll fuck the cover off her pussy. I'll have her walking bow-legged for two days afterwards. I'll slay her dragon, I'll ...
* * *
The next day, when he arrived at work, Brock had a bad case of light balls. But he was still pissed off. That fucking wife of his. He could hang her by the twat and slowly burn the hair off her cunt.
It wasn't his fault that she upset him so, he always shot off before she reached her climax. What the hell did she expect?
"Brock?"
"What!" he snapped, catching himself a little too late, and squirming inside, seeing the puzzled, begruntled look on Dewey's face as he entered the office.
"Bad night last night, Brock?" Dewey inquired, his brow furrowed deeply. "It gets that way sometimes."
The old fuck, Brock cursed inwardly. Who the hell was he? Thinks he knows everything-been everywhere. How the hell does he know I had a bad night. Has he been fucking my wife? No! It was a stupid thought. Brock sighed heavily, once again drawing Dewey's attention, and the frown that he seemed to reserve only for Brock.
"You know, Brock; you can go a long way in this company if you'd just tighten up your ship. Batten down the hatches. You've got the ball, son; now run with it, run with it! Don't sit down at that desk and wait for me to tell you what to do next. Check up. Keep on your feet. Keep the employees guessing. Look like you're interested in the production, like you're interested in the company's welfare. You are interested in the company's welfare, aren't you Brock?"
"Yes sir." Cocksucker!
"Then move around. When you're on the move, the workers hustle a little more. They don't want you to catch them goofing off. And when they are, or the work is a little slow, find something for them to do. Get with it. You're a young executive. You've got to function."
"Yes, sir."
"Okay, remember what I said. Here, take this memo down to personnel."
"Yes, sir. I'll give it to one of the messengers as soon as one of them come back."
"Brock," Dewey let out a long, low sight of exasperated tolerance. "Take this memo down to personnel." He glared at Brock as if daring to hear the slightest rebuttal or look of defiance.
"Yes sir, right away sir," Brock flashed his ever-ready smile, the one Dewey liked so much.
"That's the way, Brock." Dewey smiled.
"Good morning, Phyllis," Bob said as he stopped in front of the receptionist's desk to punch his time card. Brock and Dewey heard him at the same time, and Dewey turned in the direction of the voice and flushed a deep crimson. And Brock took it all in, once again storing this observation with the other tid-bits of unexplainable vibrations he felt going around between Dewey and the new guy, Bob.
Ten o'clock break came around, and to keep things cool, Bob was going to go over to one of the fellow's office and bullshit the break away, but Anne caught his eye. And according to their pre-arranged plan, Bob changed his direction and headed toward his office with his coffee and roll.
Anne appeared shortly afterward.
"Feel up to giving me a little diddle?" Her eyes looked hot and kind of misty.
Bob sighed. "We're pushing it, darling."
"Shh, just touch it. Just press your hand against it through my skirt. I could cream off in less than a minute, I'm so hot."
Bob scanned the office casually, and had barely lifted his hand up and away from his desk when he felt Anne pressing herself against his wrist. He adjusted his position and cupped her pussy through her thin, light-weight skirt.
"Put it up my skirt, please. Just touch it."
"Look, you're so damn hot, all one has to do is look at your face and they'd know you're about to cream in your drawers, that is, if you haven't already."
"I save all my cream for you, love,' breathed hotly.
He didn't want to admit it, but she was blowing his mind with that kind of talk. He loved a shit talking chick. The more shit she talked, the more he blew. Knowing Anne, she could probably talk him into creaming in his pants. Her pussy rubbed urgently against his hand. Unconsciously he felt himself cupping it more firmly with more and more intent.
She smiled, then reached down for his hand and put it under her skirt.
"Goddam, your panties are sopping."
"I told you," she hissed, her face taking on a soft glow of warmth and blush.
Bob dug his hand down into her panties and slipped two fingers into her very moist hole. She ground her pussy down on his fingers. They were talking with their eyes again when Dewey came down toward the back where they were. So they didn't see him walking casually, but ever so quietly towards them, even though Lorraine had spotted him, and them, and was trying frantically to make signs with her face. Louise was sitting doing her best to conceal the fear that billowed inside her pounding heart like the full sail on a ship taking its maiden voyage.
Tiny beads of sweat popped out on Lorraine's forehead, and around her nose. While Louise froze where she was at, petrified with fear.
Anne let out a soft, low moan of ecstatic d blessed release as she shuddered, the sensual movement of Bob's working fingers gliding rapidly inside her sweetening cunt, en she melted in his hand. "I've got to get blown," came a gruff voice from the doorway.
There were no sudden moves, physically that is. Though two hearts simultaneously jumped into second gear and shifted into third within the space of a "trinit," which is thirty-six seconds quicker than a minute. They both looked around. "I've got to get blown," Dewey repeated hotly, his voice much more intense than before.
"Are you crazy?" Bob rasped, his voice not going any further than just their ears.
"I've got to get sucked, NOW!" Dewey was beginning to tremble, Bob noticed.
"The stockroom is the only place," Bob suggested, making the decision and playing the I cards just the way they were falling. There was no time to second guess himself.
Lorraine watched, and scanned the rest of the office as she watched Bob, Anne and Dewey enter the stockroom and close the door behind them. She wondered what would be going on. She could guess, but guessing was j nothing like knowing.
She continued to scan the office as she returned to her work, and Louise did the same. Louise was scared stiff, Lorraine could see that. But she had to give the girl credit. She was holding onto her cool.
Minutes passed, and the door to the stockroom was still closed.
"Stay here," Lorraine whispered, as she casually, but purposefully left her desk and headed for the stockroom. She opened the door and stepped in quickly, then shut the door and gasped.
Poor little, sweet little Anne. There was Dewey himself, laying back against the crates, his fat little, hard knob of a prick jutting from the slit of his pulled down zipper, and Anne sucking it off for him.
Bob glared at her. "What the hell are you doing in here?"
Lorraine said nothing. Her eyes were glued to the sight of Anne's hot mouth fastened securely to the prod of cock, and the look on Dewey's face.
He was making all sorts of little grunts and groans, his fat jowls trembling loosely from the rest of his face, and she knew he was going to come soon.
"Hell," she wriggled hotly. "I need something behind all this action."
"Look," answered Bob fearfully, "what do you want to do, bring the whole fucking joint down around us?"
She answered him with her eyes.
"For pete's sake," Bob unloosened his belt, opened the top of his pants, then shucked them down around his ankles along with hi undershorts.
Angrily, he reached for her, yanked up her dress, pulled down her panties, then spun her around like a cop doing a "frisk" routine. He placed her hands against the wall, then pulled her buttocks out towards him a little, then started searching for her sweet little cunt.
The entrance found, and feeling the lips around her pussy puckering and closing around the head of his cock, he pressed it against the slit, and slipped it up into her, feeling her pressing backwards and down upon him.
He sighed heavily, as his joint slid all the way up her, and he felt her familiar sucking pussy muscles grab hold of his dick and begin to do their pussy thing. He put it to her sweetly, moving his dick in and out of her with a steady rhythm. Her cunt was sweet and wet. Most of all, it was as hot as all hell.
Just then, the door opened and a frightened Louise came in closing the door quickly behind her.
"Good grief. Everybody's going mad around here. Sex, sex, sex, all I see is sex." Then she exclaimed again: "Good grief!"
Fuck it, Bob thought to himself, as he continued to move in and out of Lorraine, not missing a stroke. Fuck it all to hell.
There was a slight choking sound, and Lorraine tore her lips away from Bob's hot kiss just in time to see Anne's mouth bubbling over with hot gism as Dewey came heavily into her mouth
"Suck it, suck it. Oh, hell, suck that prick, honey. Suck it. Ohhgg, suck it. Suck the meat off the bone, baby! Ahhh, suck it, suck it, suck it, suck it, suck it," he babbled in rhythm with motion of Anne's tongue sliding back and forth Ms prick just beneath the head of it.
Lorraine started sighing the way she always did when she was getting her rocks.
"Ohh, push it, ohh! Ahh, Ahhh, Ohhh!"
Bob pushed it to her hard.
"Ohhh baby. Ohhhbaby, ohhh baby, I'm coming."
Bob whipped around inside her a few more times, then like he had other things to do, slipped his steaming, hot cock from the creamy snatch, and reached for Louise.
"Come on, let's get it over with."
Louise started to protest at his reluctant manner. I mean, she thought; after all, she wasn't just something for him to spit his come into. You know?
He detected her hesitation, and snatched her by the arm, reaching up under her short dress and grasping a hold of the waistband of her panties, and stripping them down over her ankles, as she involuntarily stepped out of them.
She knew she wanted to be fucked, or eaten, or something. Who the hell did she think she was fooling?
She was really going to give him a piece of her mind, when he placed her into the same position as he had Lorraine.
"It's all right honey, I enjoyed it," Lorraine said, satisfied with the medicine Bob had given her to cure her temporary illness of lusty hots.
"But ... "
Bob slapped Louise sharply on the ass. Then manfully, found the entrance to her sweet pussy and inserted his cock as far Up into her as he possibly could. Hmmm. His cock was beginning to get a little feeling into it. He had better get her over kind of quick or she'd find herself with a pussyfull of male spunk, and no cream of her own to mix with it.
Ah shit! I got her under control. Bob redeemed himself. Then he commenced working his cock in and out of Louise's tight, little snatch. Boy, how long had it been since she had a good fucking, outside of the ones he himself had given her.
She really had a tight, little pussy. He could touch the back of her, and yet every solid inch of his prick was encased with pure pussy. Whooo! Pussy like this could blow the lid off Mount Everest, providing the Mount had a prick!
Bob cracked up inwardly at his own weak humor.
He was just beginning to make his stride, sinking his hot cock into Louise, in long, hard strokes. She was getting a much better fucking than Lorraine had gotten. And Lorraine was wondering why?
Dewey had finished spurting his come in Anne's mouth, and now sat down on one of the boxes of supplies and watched the scene before him. It was really kind of nice. When was the last time he could watch a scene like this and play with his meat.
Well, Martha's place was something different altogether. I mean, at a whore-house, what do you expect but the best. Those girls are paid to give the customer the very best. But this was different. This wasn't costing him a single cent. Hee, hee, heee. Yes, what a stroke of luck for him when he caught them fucking and gamahuching on the floor that particular day. Weee, dogie. Yes indeed! Free tail. This was only the beginning, Dewey told himself, smugly.
Bob now had his hands on Louise's ass and was pulling the cheeks widely apart, taking a good look at the sight of his slick shaft slipping in easy and coming greasy; more greasy each time than the time before.
Yes, she was about to burst her grapes.
Then the door to the stockroom opened again. And what to their wondrous eyes should appear-horny, ol' Brock with a lustful leer.
He said nothing as he closed the door behind him and took in the lusty sight. That wasn't the scent of jasmine wafting its way down the Nile, what he smelled either. That was, that was, yeah. PUSSY! PURE PLEASURABLE PUSSY!
"All right, mother-fucker," he grinned. "The jig's up."
Everyone just stood there staring at him-Dewey, turning as red as a beet. Yes, everyone stood staring at him. Everyone that is, except for Bob. Louise was trying to look at Brock, but Bob was putting such a terrible fucking to her sweet hole she could give a fuck less if it was Brock, the president, or the Prime Minister's chancellor.
It was just too damn bad for all of them. She was getting fucked. Which was the same as saying: Come back later-can't you see I'm busy.
Yes, she thought. I'm terribly busy. I'm getting the wrinkles fucked out of my pussy. He's ironing out the wrinkles. Pretty soon it will all come out in the was, that is, when I finally cream all over his cock. Oh, oh, the thrill of it all!
Oh, hell, he's so stiff, so hard, so good! Oh, for life and limb of me. Oh, that I might give my soul to get fucked like this for the rest of my life. That I might forever and always take into my being the sweet delicious boy who stands behind me giving me what I want-giving me what I need-ten pounds of cock-piping hot-more bounce to the ounce, more ground per pound, and ohh, ohhh...
"Well, you hot-blooded motherfuckers, I'm waiting." Brock was very smug now. Knowing that he was holding all the trump cards. Not only had he discovered the link between Bob and Dewey, but he had stumbled onto an easier way to spend the day, an easier way to get his dick wet.
He started to approach Bob and reached out to grab him by the shoulder. But Dewey stopped him. Brock started to protest bitterly, but the fear on Dewey's face made him hesitate long enough to take a second thought.
He couldn't really figure out why Dewey was so scared, but for the moment, not knowing what the score was, well, he could "afford" to take his time about things. No, he didn't have to push this new guy, Bob.
No, just because he, Brock, was now the man of the hour, the man with all the aces-naw, he didn't have to be a prick. But, just as long as each and everyone of them understood that he "could" be a prick if he desired to be so.
Well, he would get that understood just as soon as this young man finished the fine fucking he was giving this girl, Louise. Louise? Wow! I didn't know she would throw a fuck like that!
"Ohhh, o gosh, wow!" Louise began to gasp, interrupting everyone's train of thought except Bob's.
"Ohhh honey, ohhh, do it baby, do it, wow!"
With her skirt hitched up around and above her waist, with her little sweet ass cheeks shaking furiously in Bob's hands, her thighs trembling, her legs shaking, and heart felt sighs escaping her pursed lips, Louise climaxed beautifully right there in the stock room.
A few more strokes, then Bob eased out of her, his own fulfillment yet to be obtained.
He turned around somewhat annoyed at this last interruption.
"Just what the hell do you want, man?"
"Hey kid, I'd suggest you watch your mouth, you know? I mean, like I now hold the security of your job in the palm of my hand, yours and Dewey's also."
"You don't hold shit," Bob shot back, his voice still in quiet control, still not wanting anyone outside the stock room to hear.
"What the-" Brock took a threatening step towards Bob, and Dewey immediately rushed up to him, seized him by the shoulder, the fear on his face twice as intense as before.
"Ahh, ahh Brock, no. Ah, no, I wouldn't do that Brock."
"Look, I've just made the discovery of the century. I could turn you all in for just half of what I've just seen.
"Brock," Dewey interrupted him.
"Anyone of you is willing to give this sucker a play?" Bob asked no one in particular.
"I'm the only one that hasn't been fucked," Anne spoke up quickly, and a little embarrassed at her boldness.
"You can fuck her," Bob said to Brock, in his matter-of-fact tone of voice.
"Now, just you wait one fucking minute."
Bob spun around and the expression on his face was evil and menacing, as Dewey again rushed to Brock's shoulder.
"You'd better confer with your boss, sweetie, before you loose some teeth," Lorraine said knowingly.
"But-" Brock still tried to protest.
"But, mother-fucker, you haven't got all damn day to fuck. Now get the pussy, then get the fuck out of here!" Bob spat the words out, his body tensed, poised, like something from the jungle ready to strike.
Brock's feathers felt suddenly wilted. They just didn't understand his position yet. They didn't understand what power he had over them. Well, he would get the pussy first, then they would talk. They'd talk and they'd listen. Then we'll see who the real "King Tut" is.
Anne was already stepping out of her panties. "How do you want me," she asked almost demurely.
"Just like old people fuck," Bob shot in, "straight up and down."
Brock glared at Bob, as Anne lay down on the floor and spread her legs wide apart, everyone getting a good look at the salmon pinkness of her inner pussy.
Brock quickly forgot his bickering, as the throbbing of his stiff cock took hold of his mind, and the sight of Anne's sweet pussy wiped his mind as clean as an erased blackboard.
He fumbled momentarily, not knowing whether to just take his cock out of his pants, or to strip down to the ankles like Bob had done. The girl had warned him to follow his boss's lead. Did that mean fucking too!
He decided to take one more chance to see what happened. He unfastened his pants and dropped them down around his ankles.
Nothing was said. Hump! You mean he had finally done something without an objection from the "in-crowd"?
He didn't have a bad-looking cock at that, Anne thought as she viewed the stiffening rod, jutting out and throbbing right above her face.
He looked around him once more, then knelt down between Anne's spread open thighs; grabbed hold of his member and aimed it toward her slot. It slipped in with no trouble at all. Anne closed around his cock like a velvet glove.
He hunched into her once and she began to writhe beneath him. He thrust into her again, and she began throwing all that hot, young pussy over his marauding prick. But alas, too much, too soon. For as Brock hunched into her a third time, he groaned suddenly, and cursed.
"Ohh, fuck, I'm coming, dammit, ohhh, I'm comin'. " He started spurting into her.
"You creepy bastard," Anne shot at him disgustedly, instantly jerking away from him while at the same time reaching for his prick with her hand to keep him from shooting off her entire load between her legs. But she wasn't quite fast enough, because he was still coming as his prick slipped from her and the stiff rod slurped from her pussy with a resounding pop, and burst forth with two more heavy spurts of come that shot up and landed on Anne's stomach and inner thighs.
"You pig!" she spat, and frowned nastily.
"Where the fuck do you think you get off?" Brock yelped, raising his hand back to give her a shot across the mouth.
A shoed foot kicked him gently but firmly in the ribs as he began to start the down-swing. And as he looked up, Bob slapped him viciously across the mouth, jerking his head back, and while the blow jerked Brock upright, Bob hit him again, so that he just kept going backwards and sprawled out on the floor on his back.
Brock felt at his mouth. His lip was split and bleeding a little. He went to jump, and Lorraine grabbed his arm.
"You snatch away from my arm, and he may kill you," she said softly, her voice heavy with concern, though her concern was only for Bob.
Brock's eyes were hot with anger. He wanted to kick ass. He wanted to kick much ass. But now that he looked at Bob, well, the guy looked just a little too confident. His air was just a little too quiet.
Naw, Brock evaluated, just might get the shit kicked out of me.
Bob watched Brock's face. Brock was angry and impulsive. He just might want to tangle and go for broke. But no, his eyes showed he had resigned himself to let things go as they were. Bob turned his back. And it was then that Brock lept up from the floor just high enough to tackle Bob around the legs, sending him slamming into the floor.
Bob was instantly a twisting, thrashing snake, violently kicking the entanglement of pants from around his feet, and fighting to regain his balance of the situation.
Brock also had his feet entangled in his pants. But Bob got loose first, and raised up over Brock and smashed down into his face. Once, twice, three times, and Brock crumpled to the floor in a heap.
Bob began pulling on his undershorts and pants when the door to the stock room opened again, and one of the fellows across the hall walked into the room.
"What the hell-"
Well, there was the scene: Lorraine half laying, half sitting on the floor with her dress up around her waist; Louise sitting on a box, her skirt up around her waist and her pussy hanging out, and then there was Anne cowering in one corner of the room. Her face flushed and full of fear. And...
Who the fuck was on the floor?
"Who's that? What happened. What's going on?"
Bob was keyed and ready to go. "You want to go down too! Come on in."
"Hey, wait a minute, I didn't mean to interrupt anything. I mean, I didn't mean to interfere. I just heard the noise, and I came to see what it was."
"Did anyone else hear it," Bob asked. "What?"
"Did anyone else hear the noise? Was it loud?"
"Uh, no, I don't think so. You want me to take a look?" He reached for the door.
"Hold it. You take a look, but you just open the door and split back to where you belong. We'll talk later."
"Yeah, sure, okay, Bob. Anything you say, man."
The fellow opened the door and left.
Brock was staring up at Bob from the floor. He opened his mouth to speak.
"You say one motherfucking word, just one-and I'll stomp your guts in," Bob said in a low tone of voice. But there was no escaping the intensity of his threat. He meant it. And now Brock knew it!
"If the price for keeping your mouth shut is pussy on the bone; then you've got it. I know we can work out something. But if you have any ideas of turning any, or all of us in, forget it. Because you'll need twenty-four hour police to keep me from getting to your ass. Do you understand?"
Brock shook his head in the affirmative.
"Now get dressed and get the fuck out of here."
Minutes later Brock was dressed and weaseling his way from the stockroom. They, the girls, had wiped the blood from his face as best they could, and Brock had said that he would go straight to the men's room and clean himself up.
"Do you think he will say anything?" Anne asked.
"If something should happen to give him complete protection, he'll sell our ass out for the price of a used cigar butt. But until that happens, he's afraid, and he'll keep his mouth shut. So don't worry about it. Okay?"
He threw on his disarming smile.
"Now, which one of you are going to service my fulfillment?" They all stared at each other incredulously.
"Are you serious?"
"Everyone in here has gotten their rocks except me. Even Brock got his."
"I didn't get mine, remember? The bastard came before I even got warmed up."
"Then let's get it on."
Bob stripped again, and by the time he got out of his pants, Anne was lying back on the floor, again with her legs spread widely apart.
Bob crawled between her legs and inserted his penis into her.
Ahhh, yes, he mused. like putting a key into a lock.
like putting a hand into a glove. like putting penis to pussy. Ahhh, yes.
He had no sooner stuck it in, than Anne began writhing her lovely hips, squirming beneath him and throwing all the pussy she possessed up to his cock.
Again, and again he dug into her hallowed tunnel of love. Again and again, he felt the inner muscles of her sweet cunt contracting around the shaft of his penis, closing, clasping, loosening, tightening, drawing him deep into her, then spewing him out again.
Bob was hard up, now. Fuck all that pretty shit to make her feel good. He wanted a good down to earth fuck, and that's just what he was going to get.
Lorraine watched the scene with increasing interest. She dug Bob. She let her mind go again. Maybe it was his style. Maybe it was because the way he just let himself hang loose. Maybe it was because he was so capable of taking care of them when the shit hit the fan.
Maybe, it was the care he took in their interests, and in their behalf. And then again, maybe it was just that she liked the way Bob fucked. Somehow, even though it had looked like he was doing a much better job on Louise's pussy than he had done on hers, she still got one big hell of a thrill in being fucked by him.
He was just so capable.
There was something about the way he nudged his prick up the straight of her vagina, touching her at all points west, north, south, and east. Maybe it was the way he filled her from stem to stern once he started stroking that long thick cock in and out of her dripping box.
Yes. She was sure now. That was it. That had to be it. The way Bob filled her box made her feel like a birthday present, a Christmas stocking, a Thanksgiving turkey, an Easter basket.
Yes. Having Bob fuck her was like having a celebration. like drinking champagne in August. Or having steak in the morning for breakfast.
Yes. That's what it was, her steak. But only if she could have it anytime she wanted it. Well, at least, almost anytime she wanted it.
"Ohhh, ohhh," Anne moaned, interrupting Lorraine's train of thought again.
That girl. Every time I get to think about Bob, either she or Louise are with him. Oh well, I already had mine. She smiled openly, and Louise looked at her and smiled too! Neither of them knew what the other was thinking, but they just continued smiling at each other.
Bob stroked Anne down hard, till finally she shuddered violently, and a gasp tore from her pursed lips.
"Ohh, Bob, Ohh, ohh do it, do it, do it, ohh, yes."
Dewey still sat on one of the boxes jerking himself off. And at the same time that Anne was coming, and Bob was spurting off inside her, Dewey fizzled to the top of his dick and squirted his last remains out on the floor of the stockroom.
While our dynamic quartet was in the stockroom with Dewey doing their thing, Phyllis, the receptionist at the front desk, spoke to Brock.
"Brock, this is the new girl that will be working for us now, Mona Freeman."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Mona adjusted quickly to her new position and within a couple of weeks she was beginning to feel relaxed and a little more secure. But that wasn't all she had to be proud of. Because for almost a full month she had succeeded in resisting the temptation of exposing herself in public.
She sighed wistfully, as she congratulated herself for the accomplishment thus far. But she wasn't really fooling herself. It wouldn't be long before that old familiar ache between her legs would once more become too much for her to bear.
Suddenly, she squeezed her eyes shut tight, forcing this line of thinking from her mind. Why not consider the prospects. That, at least, provided a more optimistic point of view, she told herself.
There weren't that many good-looking guys in her section. But then, she'd have been game for any man, the first man to speak a kind word to her, or even hint that he might have an interest in her.
For instance, that guy Bob. He wasn't bad-looking at all. But she had to admit that it wasn't his good looks that aroused her curiosity about him. What was the bit with the stockroom, and those three girls? She was under the strong impression that the three girls' jobs were much the same as her own. What other privilege, or responsibility was it that allowed them constant access to the stock room? And the visits were so sporadic.
Sometimes two of the girls would make four or five visits a day, while one might make only one or two. Or then again, it might be the other two-sometimes all three.
Hmmm. Dewey, Brock, Bob, Anne, Louise and Lorraine. Three girls, three boys.
Mona decided that she would simply keep her eyes and ears open, and merely "observe" the happenings. Sooner or later something might break to give her an indication as to what was going on. And besides, wondering about them sort of helped to keep her mind off her pussy.
Oh goodness. She had allowed herself to think that word again. Instantly, she tried to force down the glowing warmth that began to creep up from the bowels of her belly. No! She had made a promise. Do not try to bottle it up inside. Get hot-go release the valve. For it was always the summation of those days she went without fingering herself off, that she finally exploded, and found herself riding the trains, looking for someone to show herself off to.
No. She wouldn't try to keep it inside. A quick finger, and the pressure would be released. Then she could go back to work.
So, away to the ladies room she went.
But on the very next day the strangest thing happened to trigger her off to even greater heights of curiosity. At about a quarter to twelve, just before lunch, each of the three girls left their desk-something like one minute apart from each other-and went into the stockroom.
But as the last girl entered, Mona could swear that she saw-a pair of panties-on the floor. No. She had to be mistaken. But her mind was awhirl with lewd thoughts and images. And her curiosity shot up sky high. She "had" to find out what was happening. Maybe it was just what she was looking for.
Somewhere inside her, a voice was saying:
Take it easy, don't get your hopes up, it's nothing, you're getting too worked up. But the tone and the volume of the voice became much fainter second by second. Mona was ready for some action. And if there was the slightest chance that there was something going on in the stockroom...
She gripped the edge of her chair, forcing herself to sit still. But then, a minute later, Dewey came down towards the back of the office, looked around like he usually did, like he was checking over the workers, then he went straight to the stockroom.
Mona raised up from her chair. Then plunked back down. She was going crazy. She had to be losing her marbles to think that someone would be fucking in the stockroom. It was, crazy to think that anything relating to sex could be happening in a stockroom.
But her willpower was draining fast, as Brock now approached the rear of the office, and he too, went into the stockroom. And now Bob, with his office just outside; he also got up and went into the stockroom.
Fuck it! They can fire me, black-list me, cut off my pension plan, do anything they damn well want to.
And with that thought in mind, and a mental preparation to accept the consequences should there be any to befall her, Mona got up from her chair and walked straight to the place that housed so much mystery to her rampant imagination.
A premonition-or maybe it was the gasp from Louise's mouth that told her she was on the right track. In any case, she entered the stockroom, closed the door quickly, and stood there, back pressed up against the door, her mouth agape, and her eyes about to burst out of their sockets.
Bingo! Jackpot! A solid home run! They say that there is gold in them thar hills, but she'd have gladly traded all there was, and all there ever would be, for the sight that greeted her eyes.
Brock was stretched out on his stomach, his face buried deep between Anne's thighs. Louise was jacking off Mr. Dewey, and Bob was putting it to Lorraine doggy-fashion. And what Mona smelled was the mixed blend of male and female come-juice.
Everyone immediately stopped what they were doing-everyone except Bob. He looked around (never missing a stroke), and took in an eyeful; the soft line of her shapely legs, her pleasure dimpled knees, the soft, smooth glow of her full thighs, and slightly flaring hips, and enough tittie to rest a man's head quite comfortably, till death did he part.
That was enough for Bob. "Sit down, please, and wait your turn." He put the words together as best he could, because he was applying one hell of a fucking to Lorraine's womanly snatch.
Her pussy was hot and snapping at his cock like a snapdragon.
A sheet of heat engulfed Mona. Her eyes grew hot, and her heart pounded beneath her breasts with terrific force. Her mouth was dry and her pussy was moist-very moist.
He could say what the fuck he wanted to, but she was creaming in her panties already. She couldn't possibly wait until he got good and ready to do her pussy. She had to release some of the pressure NOW! And by hell, she did.
She all but tore her panties off her hips, and down her thighs and legs; stepped out of them, and damned near tripped herself up. Her hands were at her pussy in a flash. And she twiddled her sweet clitoris at a furious pace.
"Ohhh, ohhh, ohhhhh," Lorraine gasped, as she felt the blessed relief melting from her, its sweet warmth already dribbling down the insides of her thighs.
"Ohhh, I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming, Bob."
And as the lesser waves of the terrific onslaught coursed through her body, Bob whipped his prick from her smoking hole, and laid her to one side. She gasped, as her pussy snapped shut with a juicy pop, sending titillating sensations vibrating through her clit, and spreading throughout her being.
"Cock!" Mona breathed, as if daring to say the name loud. "Cock. Good, sweet cock. Hard and stiff, cock! Cock, cock cock!
Well, needless to say, Bob took immediate steps to solve the young woman's problem. She was all too obvious in her suffering.
His first instincts were that of the great protector. He wanted to take this gorgeous piece of wanton womanhood into his arms so that she might ever be protected from the cold of the world outside; to kiss away her tears that she might never cry again; nor express the worth of pain. He wanted to let her bask in the strength of his manhood.
But on second thought, that was not what she wanted. That was not what she needed. Her utmost desire, he determined wisely, was to be fucked blind, till she was out of her head with passion and exquisite joy.
So firm, his grasp; he pulled her to him, then laid her down on the floor. She parted her legs widely. And in the heat of her passion, she raised and lowered her knees, impatiently awaiting the reward of her long, long wait. Bob knew as he knelt down to her, that this was where he would leave his seed-right into the sweet depths of her body. For at this moment, this place, this particular time; she deserved it much more than anyone else in the room.
like the lance of a christened knight, he challenged the entrance to her love; then slipped between the treasured gates of labia, and up into the sheath, until he was fully clothed in all her warmth and wetness. She took him all, and dared not spare an inch.
Along the hallowed walls he pressed his advantage still; sparing not the rod, nor the strength of his motivation.
A shudder of pure delight rocked her body. And everyone in the room was being turned on by the intensity of her passionate exclamations.
"You don't belong to me, I know," she gasped," but I need you so. I need what you alone can provide."
A lusty moan escaped her lips as Bob thrust hard into her. She wanted to speak-to thank him for the great service he was doing for her. But every time she tried to utter a word, Bob shot deep into her, sounding bottom. And each time he hit the bottom, her voice broke into a long and tremendous sigh of pleasure.
"Ohhh," she breathed. Then, "ohh, awww, ahh, ohh, fuck me hard, make the bells ring."
Bob drew back mightily, then launched his shaft into her with all his might. She cried out in her violent passion. And Bob launched into her hard again. He was making the bells ring; and he heard her breathe in a barely audible whisper; "Louder, baby, louder. Louder! LOUDER! LOUDERRR!"
She began throwing her cunt up around his cock at a maddening pace. The beads of sweat formed around her nose and cheeks like jeweled freckles. Her mouth was open, completely exposing the soft pink lining of her inner mouth and jaw as she cooed, her voice boldly testifying to the tremendously satisfying fuck that rocked her exposed titties. For in the heat of her passion, she herself, had undone the buttons that lined down the front of her blouse. She wore no bra.
Her eyes were closed tight, her hair a disarrangement of abstract lines, like a painter had gone wild while capturing her hair on canvas.
Lorraine now grew fearful of the torturous outcries of unbridled lust.
Louise began to fidget, torn between the wild desire to masturbate herself or to run from the room before the other workers discovered them, while Anne was completely captivated by the unparalleled scene of lust before her.
"Oh, louder..." Mona cried. "LOUDER-LOUDER," she wailed, until finally, she began kicking her legs like her ass was glued to the hot seat of a bicycling exerciser. She was running-kicking in mid air-bucking, tossing, furiously twisting her ass about. But throughout the sporadic bout, Bob not only maintained the steady pounding of his vicious thrusts, but he increased with strength each terrible stroke as he piped hot shaft to the burning pussy beneath him.
Again and again, he nailed her ass to the floor, until in one long wail, like the screaming of a banshee, Mona lay in the violent throes of a violent orgasm.
The waves were shattering, the convulsions strong, and excited Bob into reaching his own climax. And he spurted off heavily into the depths of her aching, now cooling cunt.
Finally nothing else in the room moved, save the come dripping from the tips of Dewey's and Brock's pricks, and the steady ooze of three other wet cunts, and at last, but finally, the exhausted mixture of Mona's and Bob's love-cream, which now ran warmly down between the crack of Mona's ass, and dribbled on to the floor.
The door to the stockroom burst open, and three men crowded into the small entrance.
"Close the damn door, will you!" Lorraine hissed viciously at their ignorance and stupidity.
They wedged themselves in, neither realizing, nor remembering later just who closed the door. For they all stood there for a second or two, their mouths a total gap of disbelief.
Finally one of them snapped out of it. "Hot damn! Nothing like a warmed over meal."
"And I'm known for eatin' my fuckin', " chimed another.
But the third one was the fellow who had come in before and caught them all in the room fucking. He said nothing, but his eyes darted from one hot-looking box to another, as he sucked in the whole scene into his scope. But they had no sooner said this when the door opened again, and two of the secretaries peered inside.
One of the fellows standing closest to the door yanked them both in by the arm. "Can always use some fresh stuff, too, you know!"
"What's going on?" one of the girls asked fearfully.
"Nothing! Don't worry about it. Nothing will happen to you!" Bob spoke. "You can split if you like; but not until we are all dressed. Understand?"
Neither of the girls heard a word he said. They were too busy looking at the exposed and hairy twats lying there on the floor, sitting on boxes-Anne still curled up in a corner-things happening just a little too fast for her-but she was still alert-watching for a signal from Bob or Lorraine. She was ready if they were. Ready to get the hell out of there-and fast!
"Okay, everybody can start getting dressed. You three fellows that just came in ... we'll talk later. But not now. There are too many of us in here. Someone has to know something is happening in here now."
"Now wait just a-"
Bob had had just about enough shit for the day, and he was filled up to the hilt with giving explanations. So without any warning, he slammed his fist into the speaker's face, sending him sprawling into a stack of supplies piled up against the wall; spun quickly around and readied for any hint of danger from the other two.
There was none.
"I said I'd get back to you guys. No one's trying to cut you out of anything; but do you want to ruin it before it's even started?"
"It sounds all right to me," one of them quickly stated.
"Then get this fucker out of here, and keep him cool!"
Dewey said nothing as he commenced putting on his trousers and fastening them up. While Brock worked his trousers up and buttoned up too, and at the same time he worked the muscles in his jaw up and down with increasing anger and vengeful bitterness.
This new guy, Brock ascertained, had one hell of a way of saying, "please." And Brock didn't like it one bit-not one motherfucking bit.
"You want to see me when this is over?" Bob addressed Dewey with his eyes. And Dewey nodded.
"Do we have to put these things back on?" Lorraine asked, holding up a filmy pair of panties.
Bob smiled. Lorraine collected the other's panties, Louise's and Anne's, and put them under one of the boxes.
"We'll come back for them later-one of us will anyway."
"Could I say something please?" It was one of the secretaries who had stumbled onto them by accident when the noise had broken out.
"What's up?" That was all Bob said.
"Well ... if this is going to be anything like an office orgy or something, well, I mean ... I might be interested, that is, if someone was to provide me with the ground rules."
"What about your girlfriend?"
"I can speak for myself, if you don't mind. And I would have a piece of this action if you paid me-"
"Pay you? You have a hell of a lot of nerve," Lorraine hissed.
"Well," Bob proceeded, "is there anyone here you'd like to hurt, or get back at?"
"If you mean to be asking if I will keep my mouth shut about what I've seen-sure. But how soon do we start?"
"You'll get the word," Bob said.
Faces anxious with concern, and long-nosed busybodies, watched the procession marching from the stockroom.
"Everything's okay," Dewey said to them, holding up his hand for their complete attention, and throwing on his award-winning smile.
"One of the girls fainted, and we had a little trouble bringing her too."
"Oh gosh," came a gasp from some of the workers, as they quickly exchanged their verbal surprise; their day was now complete-for there I had been brought into their hum-drum lives, at least, a little excitement. And to make it look real, Dewey gave Anne the rest of the day off, telling the other workers that she was going to the doctor's.
Back in Dewey's office, Bob spoke:
"I was thinking about having an office party. You know-human relations-reward for faithful workers, etc."
"That's impossible," Dewey stuttered.
"Come on, don't give me that shit. You know you carry the weight to bring something like that off ... and soon!"
"I don't know . ... "
"I've got it. Just think about how good it's been getting your prick sucked off these past few weeks. Now you mean to tell me you'd give up the chance to have one hell of a blow-job from not just one girl, but from two or three-four even-no telling how many of these girls would fuck under the right kind of circumstances."
"I'll see what I can do," Dewey said.
"Don't see about it. Do it!"
"Now there you go, ordering someone else around again. For the past couple of weeks I've been thinking that maybe I've been wrong about you-maybe it was just a personality conflict between us. But with this bullshit attitude of yours-"
"Okay, okay. You pull this party off and I'll see for myself just how much you like me, or just how much of a chance we have of sharing something else besides blackmail."
"All right. Now can I get back to work?"
Bob left.
The next following Monday, Bob told the girls that he had succeeded in securing an apartment and that they could all move in together, and at their earliest convenience.
The girls were delighted, and said that they would have all their belongings moved in by Friday.
That night, they decided to celebrate the new apartment.
Louise was taking a bath with Anne. Bob I and Lorraine had already bathed, and now sat in the living room talking.
"What about this new girl Mona?" Lorraine asked.
"What about her?"
"She-likes us a lot. She talks about you constantly."
"You sure she's not just looking for a free hand-out? Because, she 'does' know we moved in together?"
"Yes. We told her. And, no! She has her own place. But she told us at lunch that next day after you fucked her, that it was the first time in her life. Up until that day, she had done nothing but jerk herself off."
"Aw, come on. No chick could be as hot as ! she is, and never been fucked."
"Well I believe her. She told us a lot. And I I feel sorry for her, Bob."
"So what do you want me to do?"
Lorraine smiled. "Fuck her. It's the greatest I gift you could give her."
"For pete's sake, Lorraine. Now I'm to go wherever this chick is on certain nights and fuck her, empty my balls into her, and then shuffle back here?"
"She could move in here. And as a matter-of-fact, you could stop working if you wanted to."
"So now I'm to be a pimp now, huh? Or better yet, a gigolo-you girls really don't care who gets a piece of my dick, do you? I mean, look at it from my point of view. I've got three chicks. Three! And every one of you need a steady supply of cock. Now I admit I'm good in bed but-"
"Yeah, okay, Mr. Big-Prick, okay. Forget I said anything about it."
There were a couple qf moments of silence between them. And in the silence they could hear the other two girls splashing and giggling in the bathroom.
"It might not be such a bad idea..." Bob started.
"Come on, Bob. I'm not angry with you. You're the man-my man-our man. And I agreed with the other girls that you are calling the shots. I guess I was just being a woman. I really felt sorry for the girl. That's all."
"I know you do. And the point is I keep remembering how she acted that day. She was really turned on."
"Who was turned on?" Anne asked from the doorway. She and Louise were standing there in the nude, calmly drying themselves off, drying off the loose ends of their hair that had somehow managed to get wet.
"Mona," Lorraine answered.
"We gonna take her?" Louise shot.
"Yeah, are we? Huh? Are we really?"
Bob understood that they had all evidently discussed it among themselves, and were "for" the idea.
"It can probably work, so long as all of you are in agreement."
They answered that they were in total agreement. Mona should be taken in.
"Okay. Let's see how it works. But if it keeps on like this, I just might have to bring in another stud."
"Nobody, but nobody's getting any of this pussy but you, baby," Anne smiled seductively.
Lorraine's hand was already on his cock, and Bob lay back on the sofa. He could see it coming. They were going to start right there in the living room.
Lorraine now pulled back the flap of his bathrobe, to complete exposing his cock. He was already stiff as a brick. The other girls joined in, slinking down on the sofa, stroking his head, rubbing his temples, and in general making him feel like King Tut with his butt out of the rut.
Bob had just rolled over on top of Anne, and was about to nudge his nose into her slot, when the doorbell rang.
It was about ten-thirty.
"Who the hell would that be?" Bob frowned.
No one answered him. Louise got up and went to the door, as Bob raised his eyebrows at the idea of her not bothering to put on anything to cover herself up.
Mona walked in, past Louise, immediately appraising the scene, and stripping off her clothes as she approached the sofa.
Bob wanted to gently rebuke the girls for the sneaky way they set him up. But the feel of Lorraine's hand around his cock was getting good to him.
Slowly, Anne untied the belt to his robe, while Mona wasted no time opening his robe all the way. She ran her hands across the hardness of his chest, then down the flat of his stomach. She bent her head down on his chest and sucked one of his nipples into her mouth.
Bob touched the softness of her knee and slid his hand up the softness of her thigh till it joined with the other. She was moist already and hot to the touch. He slipped his fingers between the simmering goodness and up into her.
She wriggled her pussy over his hand.
Louise joined them and brought her head down over the erect phallus which Lorraine was firmly stroking with an up and down movement. She stuck her tongue out as far as she could and laved the underside of the cock. Then, taking as much of it in her mouth as she could, she sucked it hard and long until her mouth came to the tip of the head. She went down on him again. This time taking long hard sucks at the base of his prick. She could feel the hair of his crotch washing her face like a long hair coat. And she liked the sensation it gave her.
She began to finger her pussy while she sucked. She enjoyed the satisfaction she felt at both ends. Suddenly, she felt another hand at her pussy. It was Anne. She was wiping her hand in Louise's pussy, as if she were actually washing or drying her hands on a cloth towel.
Then Louise felt Anne slip three fingers up her. Shit, it felt good. This freaky stuff was beginning to turn her on more and more. She removed her own fingers from her pussy and pushed them up to Bob's nose. Yes, he smelled it. Uh-huh. Go right ahead, he thought.
She did. She put her fingers into his mouth. He sucked on them, licking off all the pussy juice. He liked the way Louise tasted. How would one go about describing the taste of Louise's pussy?
But then, how would one go about describing the beautiful blow-job she was giving him?
Louise took one last turn around the tip of his cock. Then he felt her mouth lift up off him. He was about to protest when he felt his cock encased once more. But it wasn't Louise because she was at the end of the sofa now, with her legs widely spread while Anne feasted between them.
It was Lorraine sucking him now. Her tongue was a torturous rush of maddening twirls just beneath the head of his prick. She was giving him a furious licking right there.
He could feel his cock thickening, swelling against the maddening sensations. Somehow or another, she was managing to almost rap her tongue around the circumference of his shaft. The feeling was indescribable. Then she bit him, and he yelped.
Biting was new to Bob. But he hoped she would do it again. She did. Taking little nicks into the shaft of his throbbing cock, Lorraine put one of her hands down to his balls and began to coddle them. Bob felt the balls moving around in the sac. He knew that if she kept it up, he would shoot off in her mouth.
But Lorraine knew this also. She opened her mouth side and concentrated on just licking up and down the shaft. Her hands remained at his balls but she moved them around very little. Only now and then would she nudge them gently upward into him, heightening his excitement and increasing the produce of his pre-come, which oozed steadily into her mouth.
She felt the shaft thicken and lengthen. She knew he was about to come and she ceased all activity. Then feeling the decrease in his excitement, she relinquished her post to the next in line. That was Mona.
Anne was eating Louise to a fare-thee-well. She was holding open the lips around Louise's cunt and licking around their insides. She would do this first with the left then with the right, until she could stand the torture herself.
Then she would wedge her face into Louise's cunt sinking her tongue as far up into her as she could get it.
Louise was creaming heavily as Anne sucked her greedily, her tongue swishing about in the sopping wetness. Then she would clamp her mouth over Louise's little clit and suck it until Louise shrieked with delight, and came in her mouth.
That accomplished, they reversed positions. Louise possessed not the finesse nor the technical know-how that Anne seemed to have. Therefore, she went straight to the sweet girl's clitoris. And there she began to suck the ripe plum. She added little flicking movements of her tongue across the tip of it.
The sensations drove Anne wild. She gaped and squeezed her thighs together around Louise's head. She could feel herself coming strong in the other girl's mouth. She secretly wished she didn't come quite so heavily.
But gosh. The feeling being created there was joyously excruciating. Her tongue was at the rim of the hole. Just below her clitoris, she felt the tongue working. It was working in and out of her.
There. Again it was back to her clitoris. She didn't really want to come in Louise's mouth. But she had to. She just had to.
"Oh please ... you sweet thing. Please. Yes. No, don't. Don't ... but suck it. Yes. Yes you sweet little pussy. Suck my cunt. Arggghhh. Ah ... ahhh ... ahhhh."
Louise pushed her face tighter into the little cunt and flicked her tongue as rapidly as she could across the clit.
Anne jerked sharply and froze. She was creaming; creaming in another girl's mouth. Oh yessss. Yesssssss. She had to do it. She shouldn't have sucked her so hard. She shouldn't have done it so well. She shouldn't have made it feel so good.
Now she was coming in her mouth. And she wanted her to suck it up. Suck all of it. And swallow it. "Yes, you sweet little pussy. Such me off ... suck me off good . ... "
Mona in the meantime was repeatedly bringing Bob to the edge of climax, then releasing his prick totally from her mouth. Then she'd let him simmer down, while she administered only light caresses of a sort. Then she would work him over again, whirling, twirling and lashing her tongue about his prick, licking up and down his hot, stiff shaft, then clamping her pretty, sweet mouth down over the head, and sucking on him until she was as far down on his cock as she could get.
A couple of times she choked slightly. But she couldn't help it. She had been so long without cock, so long with nothing but the images of pictures, and the things she had seen while exposing herself on the trains.
This one was her very own. At least it was as long as she had it in her mouth. She had plans for keeping it there for a while.
Anne realized this as she looked over at
Mona. But she also believed how lonely Mona had been. No! She wouldn't try to cut the new girl out. There was plenty enough for everybody. However, she "did" hope the "new" girl wouldn't be too long.
I mean, just because she had just finished having her pussy eaten out, and sucked to a cunt-watering climax, didn't mean she was relinquishing a good fuck before she went to sleep.
Bullshit!
The cock was tasty. Mona was intrigued at the way it was hard and yet so velvety smooth at the same time, she wanted to bite down on the joint. To chew it up and swallow it-like biting into a pickle or something. But she knew she couldn't-and took out her ultimate frustration on long drawn sucks on the cock. She sucked so hard, her jaws swooped in every time she drew back on the shaft.
She wished she could let him come in her mouth. But she knew that would be acting greedy. No she couldn't do that-not on her first night.
Again, she sucked Bob up to the peak of ecstasy, then let him drop just before he hit the crest. She liked the taste of his pre-come. "Delicious" was only one word towards telling the truth about how good it really was.
Anne finished feeling off Louise again, when she got up suddenly, went over and straddled Bob's face with her pussy. She rubbed it forcefully into his mouth and nose. He sucked her hard, then before she could cream, he yanked her away, and breaking the contact between himself and Mona, he rolled Anne onto her back, splayed open her thighs, and shoved his hot, throbbing piece of prick far up into her.
She greedily consumed him. She clutched him tightly. She nibbled on his ear, then bit him sharply, and at the same time she clutched him tighter still. He understood her taste for love-her taste in love. And again the head of his prick against the back walls of her cunt.
Only moment passed before she trembled beneath him and he took her off. She crested the highest wave of her orgasm, and thrilled in knowing she was creaming off all over his cock.
Done with her, Bob reached for Mona, who was then the closest to him. He wedged his cock into her tight, slick cunt, then shoved it up to the hilt.
She wrapped her legs about his waist and commenced hunching her pussy up over his cock. A menial task to get her rocks as he screwed himself into her flood cunt.
Filled to the very brim and chockfull of nothing but pure sensations of erotic lust building up inside her belly, Mona ground herself into him, feeling his groin hairs mixing with her pussy hairs.
Bob humped against her mound, and she became a mass of wriggling flesh as she quaked in the throes of climax, and tried her damnedest to make Bob shoot off Itis load up in her belly.
Bob wasn't buying any of that shit, just cream, female cream.
Done with her greed, he proceeded to give Lorraine a screwing to relax her nerves too! Instinctively, she threw her legs way out to the sides of him so that he could see the ooze in the crack of her cunt. No sooner had he rimmed her and seated himself properly, than she began throwing her pussy all over his cock, feeling it pressed between the walls of her pussy like a hot dog on a bun.
Lorraine fucked funky-like, but the way she did it excited Bob tremendously. So he hurried to chump her off. Harder and harder he whipped his cock up into her. He wanted to touch all of her pussy at one time-at the same time. He damn near twisted himself into a slipped disc, trying to get at that pussy.
But Lorraine wasn't trying to challenge his mastery of her body; she was just giving her body free rein to respond anyway it wanted to the superb fucking going on between her legs.
She loved it so; the hot feeling streaking in and out of her cunt, the quivering tremors rippling up and down the length of her body, the tingling electric-like bursts sizzling in the tips of her nipples as her titties bobbed and weaved back and forth, up and down and around; like the tops of long-stem pussy-willows in a country breeze; like jello in a bowl.
She dug his fucking, the pressing between her cunt walls, the jarring shocks against her clitoris.
'Take it baby. Take everything I've got ... take it all...."
Her words excited Bob. He hunched against her hard.
Oh heaven ... the rush was quick. She wrapped her legs around his back forcefully, and in the maddening rush of the juicy feeling, she hotly thrust her pussy upon the impaling lance, and burst into orgasmic flow.
Bob was about to pull away to save himself from coming. There was still Louise to fuck. Lorraine clawed at him fiercely and humped against him. She tried to open her cunt walls all the way to the back. She succeeded, and Bob slid in all the way to the hilt.
He growled in defiance of his coming. Lorraine reached down and grabbed his balls. She squeezed the juicy orbs frantically. Jostling, coddling, then bouncing them in the palm of her hand.
Sporadic bursts, like electrical energy, shot up the rod. He felt himself spurting against the back of her cunt, squirting his come against the tip of her uterus.
He drew back sharply and Lorraine sucked him back into her. She squeezed the walls of her pussy, milking his prick like a fist, the secret muscles inside of her rippling and squeezing along the thickened length of his shaft. He spurted again inside of her.
He could do nothing but lay there pressed against her tightly as she rolled her hips in a fuck, winding her ass around, whipping it up and down and around in horny circles.
She had made him come. She had made him shoot off inside of her against his will, and she was making him enjoy it. He did.
"Oh you sweet bitch," Bob gasped. "You terrible, sweet, sweet bitch."
She laughed a little laugh. Her voice sounding hot and lusty as she relaxed the tension of muscles gripping his cock.
Another pair of hands clasped his shoulders and rolled him over off the couch and onto the floor. He sprawled out limply upon the plush carpeting.
Then a mouth was closing over the head of his cock.
"Awwww shit ... " he moaned, as Louise clamped her mouth over the steaming piece of meat slowly softening between his legs.
She understood Lorraine. She knew how she felt when she, herself, was getting fucked by Bob. She didn't hold it against Lorraine for making Bob come. All of them wanted to be the one in which he shot his fuck into their belly, filling their hips with an almost obscene warmth.
She understood. But she was still going to get her fucking before she went to sleep. True, Anne had eaten her well-she was warming to sensuality, the raw bawdiness of freaking, but nothing would ever replace the feel of hot cock shooting between her thighs.
She sucked him hard, filling his heart and mind with all sorts of flickering lights; filling his body with tinglings. Then, guided only by the inspiration of the moment, she licked up and down the length of his shaft in long easy strokes.
She felt it swell-once-twice-then again. She forced her mouth down over the cock, taking it all into her mouth. She began sucking for all she was worth. It was hardening. Yes. The feeling was distinctive. He was definitely getting hard again.
She continued to suck. It seemed to get harder, to grow longer than it had been before. She'd suck him just right, then stick him in her cunt.
Ahhh. That seemed to be just about where she wanted him.
She quickly let go off the cock. Then she quickly crawled up over him and inserted his prick and swung her hips down hard over him.
He was hard as a brick. She could feel him touching the back of her. She shoved her hips down over him again. Then raised up and came down again.
Bob jerked upward, and she shuddered as she felt the tip of him nudge up against the back of her. Then he put his hand down between their bodies and squeezed her dripping clitoris. Louise shuddered violently, the tremors building, shaking her to the heights of a thundering climax.
She hadn't expected this. It was so terrific. So hard, so vibrant. She couldn't control her shaking body. She was caught in a seizure of tremors which rocked her head in dizziness.
She gargled deep in her throat as Bob squeezed her clitoris continuously and shoved his prick in her in long hard strokes. She gasped, then convulsed harshly, and came, creaming down over him in a flood.
Her head rolled loosely from the cord of her neck, as she could do nothing more than lay there in the fit of tremors and come, and come, and come.
Bob rolled from on top of her, and collapsed beside her on the carpet. All three of the other girls had fingered themselves off as Bob and Louise fucked.
They were all satisfied with the "just before bedtime" fuck.
CHAPTER NINE
The phone in his office rang. "Hello
"Mr, Dewey would like to see you, please."
"Thank you."
"It's set," Dewey said with a smile, as Bob entered his office and sat down. "It will come off in about a week. There will be a memo to that effect." Then he quickly added: "It ought to be quite wild..."
"Groovy. Let's see how it works."
"Is that all you've got to say."
"What do you want me to say?" Slight pause.
"Nothing I guess. Except, it's mighty hard to be friendly to you, it seems."
"Maybe it's the generation gap," Bob smiled in an effort to pacify the jowled, balding man.
Dewey har-hared.
A wonder his face didn't crack, Bob thought smugly. Then ... ' He left.
The week passed with lots of fucking and sucking between Bob and his four girls. So far, no one else, not even Dewey and Brock knew that Bob and his four girls were living together. As a matter-of-fact, Dewey didn't really know what connection Bob had with the three girls Anne, Louise and Lorraine. He had never been able to get Bob to tell him the set up.
He only knew that either Bob had something on the girls, or that all three girls dug him; and on that basis they did whatever he suggested to them to do.
Dewey figured they were grateful for his seeing that they kept their jobs. Another matter-of-fact; neither Dewey nor Brock knew that Mona had now become one of them.
Once in a while they would see her going to lunch with Bob and the girls, but it was never consistent. Therefore, they still considered Mona an outsider, as just another of the employees.
Bob and the girls and Mona had discussed and agreed on this tactic. Mona was to absolutely associate with them on an objective level while at work. Sometimes, she would meet up with them on the train by accident, but never intentionally.
It might seem hard to believe, but all you really have to consider is the fact of how long it had been before Mona had finally gotten her first taste of cock. Then, I'm sure you can understand as she did. She was doing absolutely "nothing" to jeopardize her position. Placing Bob and or any of the quartet under suspicion or apprehension was not going to help her situation at all.
She still didn't know anything about how to go about getting herself a man.
No. She was satisfied with Bob. She too, was beginning to enjoy the sensual softness of lesbian love; of freaking with the other girls, particularly on Bob's "rest" nights.
The day of the office party was fast approaching. The air was filled with a strange excitement. Even the old biddies working there felt it, but they didn't know what it was. They along with all the other workers had received the green memo informing them that in honor of the management's appreciation for uncompromising loyalty of each individual employee; that there would be a party in their honor-the employees-of which they would participate, and indulge to their hearts' content.
The whole floor would be closed off from visitors of any kind. There would also be a small band to play live music for their entertainment.
Some of them (the employees) had been to office dinners which were held at one fine hotel in the city. Sometimes they were held at another, but never had they been in an office party. Well, let's say nothing more than a little cookies and candy being passed around, an exchange of best wishes, and then they all went the hell home and got drunk on their own booze, with their own money.
This hinted to be better than anything else they had ever been connected with-at least, at the working level.
Oddly enough, there had been no rumors of any sort of strange get-to-gether. It was only whispered by the ones Bob had promised to take care of. Even the guy whom Bob had smashed in the face was being cool. That was not only because the other two guys had promised to kick the shit out of him if he opened his mouth.
The guy was down. He wanted to check out this "office pussy." The party would be sure to provide him with not only an excuse, but a way to do it.
The others-and there were others-the majority-still believed that when Dewey had said a girl passed out in the stockroom-they took it for the truth. Why shouldn't they? Dewey was a nice boss. He was strict. But he tried to be fair.
More than one of them had been up against it, when they had gone to see Dewey about time off. They had found him quite fair and understanding of their situations, whatever they happened to be at the time.
That is, not to mention the fact that there were of course, a few of those old biddies who secretly desired for Dewey to get into their pants.
Cheating on their old fagged-out husbands never entered their mind. They often wondered at the delights Dewey shared with his wife. It must have been something else to crawl in bed with such a "well-to-do" man-a man of such great influence.
More than one of them had noticed that Dewey tended to shy away from the "official" business suit.
Dewey didn't even approach the avant-garde. But his suits were-stylish. That was the word-stylish. He didn't wear his pants as tight as the younger fellows but most certainly didn't wear them as loose-fitting as most of the old codgers.
And more than once, Helen thought, she had detected the faint outline of where his cock hung.
She'd never cheat on her husband. Neither would her other two working companions, Lucy, and Gussie. But they had talked about it. Well, you know, just little tid-bits of observation.
"That old flame isn't dead yet," Lucy had snickered lecherously.
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself." Ciussic said. "But--"
"But what--" Helen sniggled her old-biddie sniggle.
"Well." Gussie started, "it has been quite a while since I've had sex with my husband. He suffers from lumbago you know."
"Gussie." Lucy gasped in mocked surprise. Then they all burst out in a fit of old-biddie giggling.
"Yes by the way, Helen, how is your dog?"
"My dog?" Helen snapped, her hands on her hips as she sat there behind her desk of accounting sheets. "I'm not speaking to my dog. So don't say a thing to me about him. Do you know what that little son of a bitch did? He crawled up on my bed last night and wiggled himself beneath the blankets. And I awoke to find him licking me..."
"Where?" the other two biddies gasped, in secretive unison.
"You know where..." she answered in a confidential whisper, and with mock disgust.
* * *
The office party was set for the following Friday. The week seemed to drag from everyone. Only Bob and the girls indulged themselves completely with sexual pleasure.
The party to them was nothing but a means to coordinate the situation of being caught fucking in the stockroom.
The people Bob had asked to be cool until things were "straightened out," were waiting. This party was for their benefit. To get them off Bob's back.
Finally, the party started.
Dewey made a not too lengthy introduction of some of the company partners, said the toast, then they all commenced to eat the wonderful food which was laid out everywhere.
Everyone, or just about every, agreed to start at the punch-bowl. And then if they felt like it,, they would work up to the "rough" stuff.
Hank and Frank, two of the three guys who had came in on the stockroom scene a couple of weeks back started to christen one of the bottles that were laid out at their disposal. None of that fucking around with the silly punch-bowl stuff for them. They were j men-drinkers. They "knew" what it was all about. None of that namby-pamby bullshit for them.
"No sireee," Frank slurred not more than a half-hour later. He reached over and pinched the ass of a girl standing on the other side of his desk calmly indulging in a three-way conversation with some other girls.
"Eeeek," she giggled, feeling a little high, herself. "You sneaky thing, you."
Frank rolled his eyes at Hank, giving him that knowing look. This was a confirmation that Frank was the big time lover, he claimed to be.
Hank smiled back at him, and looked the girl up and down, Yep! She had some goodies on her. Uh-huh. She damn sure did.
"Hank," Bob said, pulling at his sleeve, this is Denise."
Hank eyed her critically. Looking for a flaw and so far, finding none.
"Hi," he introduced himself, with no excitement and seemingly, no interest in his voice.
"Denise is here to fulfill a promise."
"And I think it will be a pleasure," Denise interjected, a bright smile flashing across her face, a twinkle in her eyes.
Hank could not mistake the look she gave him. And in spite of himself, she turned him on. Hank left the girl for something else. He went to the punch bowl. Hank got his revenge by putting "Spanish Fly" in the punch bowl. Before long all hell broke lose.
Some of the band members were having a little trouble playing as they witnessed this. The girl threw her arms around the partner's neck and began shoving her mid-section into his groin. She giggled as he pulled his mouth away from hers and slid her juicy lips down along side his neck.
Bob began to scope. Shit, there was someone with one of the secretaries bent back over a desk, with his hand up her, up to the elbow. Her short skirt was up more than half way her thighs. One of her legs were raised daintily up in the air.
His eyes left the scene just in time to see the door to the stockroom swing open slowly, and a pair of lovely legs which had been propped up against it, fell lazily to the floor.
There was someone between them. Good fucking grief! They were fucking in the doorway.
Bob looked away. While he had been scoping, Hank and Frank had been passing out drinks left and right from the punch-bowl.
There was the sudden whirl of a typewriter carriage returning to the other end of the track. Bob turned around to see one of the girls laid back across one of the desk, her head laying atop the typewriter (which had caused it to reject,) and her arms open wide, as one of the office studs crawled up on the desk between her splayed legs.
Bob watched as the stud, unzipped his pants, unholstered his cock, and stuck it up her cunt. Someone else gasped. But a hand shot out and grabbed her by the ass.
Hank got his revenge, when after he left he called the police. The police raided the party and Bob was ruined by the scandal.
