It has been known for many years that moon stages and climatic conditions have an effect on human behavior. Not, long ago, there was a story in newspapers that prolonged fog conditions lead to feelings of depression in some people. "Cabin fever" is a term employed years ago to describe the feelings of people confined to cabins and tents by adverse weather such as deep-snow winters and blizzards.
During the 1975-76 winter, southwest Idaho endured a period of 18 foggy days in one month. There were no reports of families killing each other or neighbors turning against one another. But people weren't very damn happy about the gloomy period.
Of course, not all emotional releases are characterized by suicide or violence against someone else. In the case of the people depicted in this book, the fog incited them to indulge in activities they might not have otherwise.
Perhaps their isolation from other people had something to do with their overt behavior. The four families-including a young minister and his wife-live in a low-income housing development that was not completed.
At any rate, the loneliness and "trapped" feeling that burdened the four young wives lent to their aberrations. It began when Jeanette played a game of working off the milk bill.
Pearl then got in the "swing" of things and Sylvia followed suit.
Their bawdy talk may have had some influence on the virtuous bride of the young minister. And, too, her yielding to the drink excesses of the others, plus a youth experience, may have contributed to her adventures with the morning paperboy.
Can the fog be blamed for the advantages taken of her by a veteran preacher from the nearby town who called to ask if he could help them get the Church by the River started. Of course finding her naked and numbed from alcohol and recent sex might weaken any man of the cloth.
The girls really get down to business once they decide they are going to sample each others hubbies who have been less than amorous. Well, Tom, Sylvia's mate, doesn't really qualify, but he doesn't do much for her, ready to turn off before she gets turned on.
Soooooooo, the gals-Jeanette, Pearl, Sylvia-auction off their hubbies in a contrived bidding. Trina and her mate, Grant, are not left waiting on the block by any means.
Well, was it prolonged foggy conditions? Or was it just the normal tendency of healthy, hyperactive young women trapped in momentarily boring marriages?
It could be added as a footnote to the end of the story that, once the weather changed to sunshine and warmth, a mate auction was held every Friday night.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
With heart hammering, breath coming in painful gasps, legs weak and trembling, Jeanette Carter slowly sank to a squatting position in the tub, reveling in the shower spray that stung the crowns in the prominent breasts, stinging the tingling tips to the ripe redness of pie cherries.
Lovingly, she ran the soap over her firm breast mounds and down over her taut tunny. "Damned bastard," she muttered, watching the suds catch and mat in her black pubic moss. She spread her knees against the sides of the tub, her heels digging into the perfect moons of her butt.
She pressed the froth of soap from her pussy bush and tried to see the itching, swollen lips that she could only feel with nervous fingers. Tears of frustration were flooded away by the shower and she blinked, remembering, angrily, the evening before when she and Charlie had gone to bed. Deliberately, she had worn only the top of her pink baby dolls. But all he had done was turn his back to her with a terse admonition that he was damned tired and it was no fun driving to the construction site some thirty miles away over by Boise and stringing wire for nine hours a day. "Just keep your powder dry 'til Saturday night," he had grunted, pushing her hand away when she had snuggled to his back and reached over him to play with his dry, limp peter.
Jeanette played the soap over her firm mound and ran it through her puffy vulva. "Uhuhuhhhhhhhh," she moaned as it slid silkily against her distended clit and skated across her pulsing entry. For a minute, she was tempted to push the smooth, fragrant bar as far as she could into her vagina.
She giggled softly, the water from the shower streaming from her long, black hair that hung in strings across her satiny shoulders. "I wonder how many gals save roosted a Dove in their nests 'cause their roosters won't set their cocks in them."
The soap was a warm, delicious caress in her gaping slot, over her bulging anus as she skated it up and down the wide crack of her butt and through her love-craving blossom with its bloated petals.
"I wonder if Sylvia and Pearl get the same put-offs from Tom and Ed," she mused, plopping the. soap into the dish and standing on quivering legs, holding to the shower curtain rod and twisting her body back and forth under the needling spray to flood away all vestiges of the soap lather.
Peevishly, she turned off the water with poutish twisting yanks on the twin knobs. She pushed the curtain back and got out.
She toweled her body roughly. Charlie hadn't said anything, but she knew be was slightly pissed when she had said she would bet he wouldn't hesitate to drop his pants if he had a chance for a crack at Sylvia Waltham or Pearl Chaveau.
"Not to mention," she said in a whispered pant, "that Trina Stein who had moved into the little low income housing project with her young minister husband, Grant.
She spread the towel over the shower curtain rod and sat on the lid of the toilet stool. She rotated her bare bottom on the stool, spread her legs and stared at the reflection of her hairy pussy in the long mirror on the door. She played her hands along the inner planes of her thighs as she stared at the intensely swollen outer lips of her pussy.
"Yeah, you bastard, you'd like to diddle her," she pouted, recalling keenly his remark about wondering whether Trina Stein was wired for 110 or 220. "Wouldn't mind plugging into her and checking her juice inlet," Charlie had chuckled, winking lasciviously.
For a moment, Jeanette fondled her breasts, tweaking the still turgid nipples, then she lifted the knee-length chenille robe from the knob on the door above the water heater and shrugged into it.
Her heart continued to hammer with solid thuds as she poured a cup of coffee Charlie had left plugged in before he fixed his own lunch and left while she was still in bed. She moved to the window above the kitchen sink and stared across the weeded area between their house and the Chaveau home. She squinted through the pre-dawn of early April and acknowledged fog was rolling in from the Snake River a few miles to the west. Twin tears flowed from her hazel eyes and splashed onto the gentle, jutting crowns of her breasts where the loosely belted robe had sagged away. A pulse quickened in her throat as she saw the light go out in the carport and heard Ed Chaveau crank up his television repair van.
"I oughta slip down to the corner and flag him down and ask him if he had time to service my RCA-rectal-cunt assembly," she muttered grimly, her thighs closing snuggly, instinctively against her burning crotch.
"After just four years of marriage-well, after the first two, Charlie is always too tired or too busy to give it to me," she whined, tugging the robe closed over her voluptuous tits and not minding when it fell open again, letting the twin cones nearly jut into the open.
Jeanette turned, set the cup on the formica top of the cheap chrome dinette table and picked up the half-empty pack of Pall Malls. A voice in her mind told her without words that something was going to happen-or she was going to make it happen-or let it happen.
"Whatever," Jeanette murmured, prancing about and yanking the robe open to shed the paper match that she had dropped into the canyon between her jiggling tits. "Better get it out-before I set the brush on fire," she tittered softly, picking the match from the floor and dropping it into an ashtray.
She rebelted the robe slowly, looking at the twenty and five Charlie had left for her to pay the monthly milk bill. She nibbled a full lower lip as she picked up the empty beer bottle he had weighted the money with and dropped it into the case beside the refrigerator they had picked up at a second hand store in Caldwell. It kicked on with a rumble and faint squeak. She slapped it sharply on the side and the noise settled into a low, humming protest. The door came open and she slammed it-and the rumble and squeak started again.
"Son of a bitch-junk," she growled, holding the door shut while she again slapped the side to get the old machine to settle down. Without snugging the robe about her lithe form, she tightened the belt.
She picked up the cup and refilled it, laconically thinking of what she could do with the twenty-five dollars-like buy that cute hat with the fringe of lace and the white gloves to match-if she didn't have to pay' the milk bill.
For a moment, she touched the money with just the tips of her fingers and turned to plod through the darkened living room. She drew back the drapes about half way. "I wonder ... and what if I did? ... maybe he wouldn't be interested ... but, if he is, who would know...?"
Jeanette drew a deep breath, staring into the floating layers of fog. She had heard the spicy, titillating stories of bored housewives who had discreetly paid off the meter readers from the gas and power companies. And there were still jokes about the ice man who cometh with cold hands, but a warm heart. And his heart dangles hot and stiff from between his legs.
Her heart jumped and bounced in her chest, seeming to throb against her ribs and backbone. "What's-his-name-Bill Something-isn't bad looking," she murmured, heat surging anew between her legs.
Her legs trembling and the muscles crawled in the inner planes of her thighs. "God, if I do it, Pearl and Sylvia better not ever, ever know," she breathed: Impatience mingled with apprehension as she peered through the fog for sight of the milkman's truck.
When she saw his truck swing the curve past the Waltham house and stop at the curb, between the Carter house and the Stein house, Jeanette hurried into the kitchen and checked the coffee pot, satisfied there were at least two cups left.
With trembling fingers, she lit another cigarette, then hurried soundlessly to the front door when she heard the clink of bottles being set on the concrete stoop. She opened the door a bit as she turned on the porch light.
He stood blinking in the sudden light, smiling. "Oh, good morning, Mrs. Carter."
"Morning, Bill," Jeanette said, hating the tight, husky sound of her voice. Her eyes went to his pants as he bent to pick up the two bottles of milk: You certainly don't have a milk bottle in there, she calculated quickly, more like a long-necked Budweiser. "Is that the bill, Bill?" She smiled, aware of his eyes in the Vee of the robe that extended all the way to her navel. His eyes wavered as she gripped the robe together at the throat, then used the other hand to push her right breast inside and close the lapel over it.
"The bill?" he echoed dully. "Oh, sure. The milk bill."
"Want to come in. I have the money on the kitchen table." She didn't wait for his response, but pushed the door open a little more and strode away from him.
She dropped the money into the knife and fork drawer as she heard him stomp his feet on the entry matt. "Charlie left the money somewhere-I think," she called, hearing the front door close and his steps dragging toward the kitchen.
"Oh, damn," she feigned annoyance as she searched the table and cabinet top for the money. She handed him a cup from the dish drainer. "Oh, hell, pour yourself-excuse my language-a cup of coffee. You've got that much time."
Covertly, she peeked at his face, intent eyes on the gaping robe and the flash of her bare legs as she prowled the Government house. She turned to face him, hands on hips and feet apart. "Darn it, Bill, I know it's here someplace. Charlie said last night he was going to leave it." She lit another cigarette, sneakily aware of his eyes questing inside the robe where her twin cones nestled hotly. When his gaze swung downward, she knew the robe was fanning away from her lower body and he could see the profuse black bush across her mound and lower belly.
She cocked her head as if thinking. "Where did he put the money last month? Hmmmmm. I know what I would do with it if I didn't have to pay you," she said petulantly. "There is the cutest hat at The Style Shoppe in Caldwell-and matching gloves."
He started to say something and Jeanette looked at him as a harsh gurgle drowned his words. His eyes were hot and stormy and he blinked as she tugged the robe over her feverish breasts. "I oughta charge you the milk bill for looking," she laughed nervously, yet boldly and challenging.
"By gawd," he blurted, setting the empty cup on the table and wiping his mouth, "it's damned near worth the $22.18, Mrs. Carter."
Jeanette swallowed painfully, throat tight. She let her hands drift from the robe, felt it drift apart. And she heard herself say, voice husky, "What would be worth $22.18, Bill?"
She nodded her head forward, eyes lowered, as he stepped toward her. Uncannily, she noted the short fingernails, well-groomed, the long fingers, the distinct blood veins in the backs of his hand and the wrist. Jeanette inhaled raggedly, fought the natural instinct to retreat as he reached toward her. A protest caught and died in her throat as he traced the tip of a finger over the crown of a breast, dug the blunt nail at the tumescent, dark point.
"I can think of a way, Mrs. Carter," Bill said gruffly, "you can pay at least half of it."
Without looking up, she said throatily, "No, no, all of it-if I-we do it. Whatever you mean," she amended.
"You look that good," he murmured, the other hand coming up and undoing the belt of the robe. She shivered violently as he brushed the robe aside and his eyes roved over her creamy nudity. She felt faint as his hands closed on her waist, thumbs dug into her soft belly flesh.
"Ooooohhhh," she sighed as his hands caressed, found the perfect, ripe melons that adorned her chest.
"I can feel your heart beat," he said, fingers and thumbs denting her satiny flesh. "Goddamn-your pussy's gotta be worth all of $22.18."
"Do other women...? " she began nervously, suddenly wanting to know that others were as vulnerable as she was.
He laughed softly as he flicked the robe from her shoulders. She stood rigid as it fell down her back and from her arms into a heap of folds and billows around her feet. "I wouldn't say yes or no about that," he nodded, hands moving from her saucily jutting, up-tilted titties to her shoulders.
"You better not say about me-to anyone," Jeanette whispered, throat dry, a fever beginning to burn just under her tawny skin.
"You can bet on it," he laughed, releasing her and taking the yellow slip from between the two milk bottles he had set on the table. He gave her an appraising glance, eyes sweeping from her heaving boobies to her narrow middle to her furred crotch and down her long, tapering legs. "Worth all of $22.18," he muttered, signing it Paid and initialing it.
Fear and apprehension flickered through her, serving to ignite new flames of excitement and expectation as she stood naked and uncertain, watching him unbutton the white coveralls.
"Where?" she almost choked. Not the bedroom where me and Charlie sleep, she hoped. "The sofa?"
"Nah," Bill shook his head, brushing down the coveralls and dragging his shorts off over his up-jutting cock. "Just lean over the table-put your imagine creamers up there beside the milk jugs and the bull will go after the heifer right here.
Jeanette hesitated a moment, eyes wide with consternation as she gawked at his mammoth tusk. Almost as big as a Budweiser bottle.
"Oooooohhh!" she squeaked as he took her left arm and turned her toward the table. His big hand was strong and forceful between her shoulder blades as he pushed her down, her titties mushrooming on the cool formica. She started to rest her cheek on crossed forearms.
"No, no, no. Not that way," he said gruffly, "get your hands back on your moons and spread 'em wide."
Fear and dread flickered through her and her eyes fluttered. "Not there ... You won't do it in my rear, will you?" Her glance wavered from his intent, gaunt face.
"No, Mrs. Carter. I only got an eye for that little winker you got hiding in your bird nest. Nope, I ain't gonna corn-hole your pretty little ass-hole. Now latch your hands onto your nice buns and peel 'em apart."
Timidly, her hands cupped over the fleshy loaves and she pried outward, feeling a flicker of shame and ludicrousness. "I never did anything like this before," she said in an apologetic tone. "But we're short of money. Bill, Charlie was out of work so long and we got behind on the house payment and he had to charge having another transmission put in his pickup and . . ."
"Lots of folks been down on their luck," he agreed. "Spread your cheeks wide now and let me into that nice, perfumy little pecker-pouch."
Jeanette strained to wrench her butt cheeks farther away from the crevice between them. She was glad she was lying out on the table as her legs grew weak. "Aaaaaiiiieeee," she gasped as his hands stroked up her inner legs and his thumbs gouged authoritatively into her moist, burning, nervous vulva. "That's not your-penis," she quavered, toes curling as his thumbs spread open the thick outer lips of her pussy and pressed the inner petals.
A tremor fled through the squeezed half-moons of her ass as he skewered his thumbs into her snug vagina. "Jesus," she whimpered, "please don't stretch my insides like that."
Bill chuckled dryly and Jeanette sighed with relief as he eased his thumbs from her twat canal. But she yipped softly as he pressed one wet thumb against her pooched anus. "Oooohhh, noooooooooo," she protested dumbly as he popped it into her back chute. There was an instant raging fire in her bowels that seemed to stoke the blazing furnace in her cunny. But he extracted his thumb from her butt hole before she could squall out.
His hands fastened on her lean flanks and he moved in against her spread bottom. A shiver of expectancy fluttered through her as she felt the hot, rigid length of his cock dry-fucking her wide anal crack. "Myyyyyyyy gawd," she cried weakly as his heavy nuts flopped against the little triangle of flesh that shielded her vulva.
She felt he was trying to mash the breath from her as he leaned a heavy hand in the small of her back and eased away from her. Before she could question him, he swung the knob of his rod into play, gouging and goring the head of his huge cock into her hot gash.
He found the entry to her body and pressed. For an instant she had a sensation of constipation-until her body yielded and he succeeded in popping the massive head of his dong into her snatch that contracted squeamishly from fright and intuitive guilt.
The walls of her anal were forcefully expanded as he slowly wedged his cock into her constricted cunt. His hands locked on the curving flare of her hips as he hunched cock at her.
"Awfullllllll much," she gasped, aware he had stiffened his legs, his huge prick levering in her and she was lifted, her feet free of the floor.
"Keep your hands pulling your ass open," he panted, his fingers biting into the softness of her flanks.
Jeanette imagined he was tearing her insides, that his monstrous cock was dragging the petals of her vulva into her cock-crammed cunt.
Sweat beads popped out on her body and she could hear her flattened boobies slipping around on the slick formica of the table top as he hunched his hips, driving his long, thick prick into her resisting snatch.
"Gawd, you got a hot, tight twat," Bill grunted, bucking his hips and hammering the head of his cock deeper and deeper into her. The deeper he drove his prick, the sharper were the little daggers of exquisite pain all along her sex-tract.
She could smell the musky, pungent aroma of sex, a mixture of his male odor and her female arousal. The perfume of mutual lust, Charlie had called it when they were first married.
Jeanette sighed silently as she accepted his monstrous prick with increasing ease. A shudder ran through her when the huge bulb on the end of his shaft slid past her cervix and bored deeper into her convulsing, spasming cunt. "Jeeeesussss," she bleated at the profound helplessness of her position. For an instant, she wondered crazily what she would do if her husband returned home and found her slumped over the kitchen table, getting the milkman's mammoth prick gored up her snatch. For that matter, what would she do if Pearl should trot across the fog-shrouded back and dance into the house and catch the milkman fucking the cock to her cunt.
"Hurrrrrrrrrrryyyy," she implored, her tongue licking at the saltiness of her perspiration.
"Ever do a blow-job?" Bill panted, hands stroking her silky, wet body as he gouged the remainder of his sex-log into her helpless body.
"What?" she mumbled.
"Go down on a guy-maybe your hubby?"
Jeanette swallowed feebly and she didn't answer. A few times, her mind acknowledged, remembering one night when both were still naive about not doing it during her cycle and she had Vaselined her breasts and he had squatted on her chest and fucked off his passion as she held her tits against his passion-bloated prick. And just as he was about to cum, she had let him shove it in her mouth and fuck it off in her throat.
She mumbled something incoherent and her mind volunteered she and Charlie had experimented with cornholing too. But, that always hurt a little too much for full enjoyment. She had tried to tell him if he would go at it slow, she thought she would like being fucked in the rectum.
"Hadn't we better get with fucking?" she whined, her insides beginning to crave slippery-slide action of his massive trombone.
"You like sucking cock?" Bill asked solemnly, drawing his prick out of her seething pussy and knifing it back in, the big ball on the end slamming the bottom of her well.
"I didn't say and I won't," Jeanette gasped, trembling as her sphincters closed and gripped the gliding length of his husky tusk.
"I'll teach you the joys of sucking cock," he said, amused laughter in his voice as he began levering his prick into her scorching cunt. "You got nice, full lips and the right kind of tongue to give a guy a fantastic blow-job."
"Noooooooo," Jeanette wheedled, keeping the cheeks of her ass open. "I don't want to eat your big meat-suck off your prick. Hadn't you better hurry and finish fucking me and get on with your route?
He pounded his cock to her roughly, brutally and slammed her forward. The edge of the table cut into her thighs, but she was unable to move back as his huge post was drumming away methodically at her smoldering cunt.
"Any danger if I shoot in you?" Bill asked solicitously.
"You can go ahead and jizz my pussy; I'm on the pill," Jeanette said quickly, her gripping cunt muscles and nerves sensing the buildup of his passion, the stirring ,of his cum-pump getting primed.
The pressure of ,her weight on the table and against her Venus "mound applied sensational agitation against her thorny clit and she was rapidly soaring toward a violent eruption. "Fuck fast!" she blurted, wishing she could heave her ass back at his plunging fuck-spear. "I'm gonna blast-fuck me fast!"
Totally helpless and at his mercy, Jeanette took her hands from her buttocks and spread her arms across the table, gripping the edges. "Oooooohh, yesssssssss," her breath hissed as his hands slid from her waist, down her hips, down her thighs to cup under and lift her off the table, adjusting the angle of his pistoning prick.
"Oooooooooohhhh, golleeeeeee gawd," Jeanette moaned with her crotch split wide, feet dangling a foot or so from the kitchen floor. Heat in her loins kindled to a tempestuous pitch and a form of lightning thundered in her brain. Stars collided behind her pinched eyelids.
Dully, she heard the meaty slog-slog-slog of his heavy meat pounding into her throbbing pussy. "You gonna cum yet?" she panted, a fever. of lust and passion consuming her.
"Aaaaaiiiiieeeeeeee-Jesus Christ," she whimpered, trying to shake her ass and hunch it back to meet his plundering cock-thrusts. "Keep it coming at me ! Pound your prick far in and twist it around in my twat ! Heave your cock up my redhot snatch and make your knob swell up big! Shove it in hard and make your balls pop and crack! It's heavenly fun-fuckin' fun; EEEEEE YYYYYYIIIIIIKKKKKKEEEEEESSSSS!" she wailed almost insanely as he straightened his legs and plowed the hefty knob of his plunging prick far in toward her womb.
"Give me your cock fat, fast and furious," Jeanette begged. "Stab deep and ream out my smoking pussy. WOWEEEEEEE!" she thrilled as her enchantment soared to yet another pitch of erotic enthrallment.
"Fuck me in deep and make my cunt smoke and jizz-eum me 'til you drown my ovaries. Fuck fast, nowww and cum along with me. Holy, mother fuckin' Christ, you got a big, hard prick and I'm getting all of it crammed into my snatch and punching at my guts. Hurrrrrrrrrrryyyyy, you cunt-pounding, big-pricked bastard, fuck me senseless," Jeanette screamed, her eyes bugging as her senses concentrated on the prodigious screwing she was getting in her fun-hole.
"AAaaaaaaWWwwwwwKKKKkkkkkkkk," she squawked as her pit exploded around his thrusting torpedo of carnal splendor. "Stab your prick up me and let it soak and blast me full of fabulous jizzzzzzzzz," she screamed, voice shrill and tormented.
When he did slam his cock up her cunt to the balls, his groin crushed against the hot cheeks of her ass and began unloading his cum, she almost fainted from sheer exhaustion and rejoicing.
His torrent of jizz splashed like a tidal wave all through her aching cavern like molten lava. Her fuck-muscles milked all along his massive shaft and she began whimpering as she felt him extracting it from her boiling caldron.
Then her eyes bulged and a scream of disdain formed on her contorted lips. Too late. The head of his cock spewed jizz, mashed flat, then slashed into her resisting bowels. He tore it along her rectal passage, the head reaming the way for the thick, rock-hard barrel. She felt all swoony as he unloaded the, remainder of his thick cream in her cringing guts.
"My gawddamn," she finally managed, coming off the crest of a shattering orgasm. "Up the ass, yet, and I cum off hard. Wonderful fucking me that way," she tried to blow him kiss-kisses over her bare, sweat-gleaming shoulder. "Maybe again?"
CHAPTER TWO
Numbly, she let him help her from the table and she wilted to the floor. It seemed her only senses were in her cuntal lips and fluttering vagina. "I am well-fucked," she sighed, staring dumbly at his soppy, well-used dong as he stepped toward her.
Comprehension came into her eyes as he pulled her face toward him. "Ooooohhhh, nooooooooo?" She breathed deeply and smelled the aroma of his massive cock. His balls seemed grotesquely large, swaying in their sac as big as a bumble bee nest.
He squatted and pushed his dangling cock toward her face. For the time, she was mesmerized. Her hands came up and she grasped his shaft with both fragile hands. Her mouth opened and she pressed the rubbery glans against her teeth, let the tip of her tongue through to tease and taste his pussy-perfumed prick. Eyes crossed, she watched as she slowly devoured inch after inch of his mammoth prick. "I love cock-yum-yum-yummy," she sniffled, her tongue working avidly as she laved and sucked his twitching member.
Alarmed, she looked into his lean face as he pushed her hands from his gonads and took his cock from her face. Then she understood, nodded and let him help her to her feet. "Yes, I guess you better go."
And she helped him fasten the snaps of his shorts, patted the bulging crown of his forced-down prick and helped him pull up his coveralls.
After he was gone, she poured another cup of coffee and stood staring through the fog toward the Chaveau house. It doesn't seem possible, she thought with a stunned feeling, that I just let myself be bent over the table and fucked like that. And I even sucked his cock-and I took his big prick up my tight little ass-hole. Will it be sore? She tensed her bowel muscles and was rewarded with a hot, delicious fluttering in her ass-hole. I guess not, she mused, idly thinking she should put on her robe-before Pearl paraded in or Sylvia stomped through the front door.
* * *
Pearl Chaveau was awake hours and hours even before Charlie Carter turned out. And an hour before her husband, Ed, roused. In fact, he would have slept on if she hadn't been instrumental in awakening him.
At first, she thought it was the soft creaks of the relatively new house settling. But she concluded it was the discomfort of being unfulfilled. Unfilled, she thought with lingering anguish as she removed the hairnet she wore to bed to contain her long, lavish blonde hair. She began shuffling down in the bed, deep under the covers, her arm stretching over her husband's slack body, her hand groping.
Why, she fretted, should I awaken him his favorite way when he won't accommodate me? Her fingers closed on his warm, limber organ and she squeezed it affectionately. Ed moaned in his sleep and rocked onto his back as she tugged firmly on his slowly rousing peter.
Delicately, she moved his meat that responded slowly up over his belly. I should say to heck with him, she pouted under the covers, after the way he was talking about that Trina Stein last night.
Pearl moved her face over his cock so she could blow her breath softly on the slick glans that fattened as she gently stroked her fist up and down his lengthening meat.
"By God, I wish that Trina Stein would call me to repair her television," he had said. "How I'd like to get my hot soldering iron and screwdriver to work in her Quasar. I bet I could make her Motor-ola, ola, ola, ola."
"Shit," Pearl had retorted, "I bet she wouldn't give your depraved cock a second thought, let alone let you punch it to her. After all-you won't remember how eager you were then they've only been married about a year. She and Grant. Besides, he's the new, young minister of the Church Beside The River, and I'd say they're very religious."
Pearl squirmed slightly to plaster her firm, round tits against his side as she slowly sucked the head of his hot cock in between her lips.
"Besides," she had taunted him, "you worked on the Carters' TV-why didn't you make a try to lay Jeanette?" She had fought back tears then, knowing he was lying there on his back with a bountiful hard-on and was in no mood to let it benefit her. "You're so hot for other broads' bodies, why didn't you pop it to Jean's pussy?"
"I thought about it," he had grinned, putting out his cigarette and turning out the light beside his side of the bed. "Yep, I would have liked to, but I had no idea what time Charlie would be home."
The vivid memory brought tears that stung her green eyes, but she blinked them away as she swallowed in a goodly chunk of her husband's musky cock and sucked her cheeks in against the sides of the thickening shaft. She pressed her hot tits against his side and lifted his heavy balls with her left hand, gently grinding his nuts together as if she were arranging them for cracking.
Ed groaned almost pitifully in his sleep as she sucked sharply on the full-fledged knob on the end of his cock. Thoughtfully, focusing her attention 'on the triumphant sensation, she ran her tongue around the thick flange at the back of the cock-head and concentrated on the sweet-salty flavor of the massive cock she yearned to have pumping in and out of her neglected pussy.
She started to slide her face over his flat, hard gut to mouth-fuck him, but her fine, silken hair was whisping around her face and sticking to his spit-slicked prick as she gobbled him. So, she contented herself with sucking and moving her lips up and down the thick barrel of his huge cock.
Nerves twitched along the hard, thick-skinned pole of flesh and Pearl nibbled her even white teeth behind the corona while she swirled her tongue over the crown of the glans. She knew he was coming awake because the tone of his moans had changed.
She shoved her mouth down on his long prong, thinking he was about to throw back the covers and roll her over and tumble between her legs, mounting her. But he merely stretched to reach his cigarettes and lighter on the nightstand.
She heard the harsh rasp of the wheel against flint and scowled as Ed hunched his hips, driving several inches of his throat-stretching prick into her narrow gullet. She fought against a gagging and eased her face off the giant column of delectable flesh.
"Can I top ride you, Honey?" she whispered loudly, her voice muffled under the covers and by a husky mouthful of sex-meat. Her heart hammered away and the nipples of her hard titties extended when he tossed back the covers and sheet.
"Oh, hell, Pearl," he growled, coughing slightly from the cigarette. "Not right now. Maybe tonight-or tomorrow night. But now that you got me awake, let's have some breakfast and I'll get an early start."
She felt humiliated and spurned as he twisted away, dragging his succulent cock from her clinging lips. Tears of anger and disappointment sheened her eyes and she wouldn't look at him.
"Going to service TVs or other broads? Maybe Sylvia Waltham-she's on your way to the shop," she had snarled.
It hurt even more when he laughed at her derisively. "You know that change and variety is the spice of life for a man," he had grinned. "Even just thinking about it helps."
Pearl slumped back in the bed, coiled her body and hugged the covers to her naked body. "It doesn't seem to help with us," she pouted, anger turning to a sense of fright and futility.
"We've been married five years-when did you start thinking about getting a strange piece of ass?" she yelled after him as he left the bathroom and strode toward the kitchen. "And how much spicy tail have you torn off since then? Huh, Ed? Huh? You've been getting new, exciting, strange pussy all along and I sit here at home and have nothing to do but tend house and gab with my neighbors?"
She wouldn't even look at him, turning away her white, oval face that was topped by the flounce of blonde hair. All that was visible from the covers. She shunned his efforts to kiss her by flopping to her left side. "Go on down to the shop and get on the road and fuck this gal and that dame. Go on, get .out and screw a ewe, I don't care."
* * *
Obediently, sleepily, Sylvia cooperated with Tom Waltham in removing the pants of her pajamas. "Tom, it's the middle of the night," she protested lamely, straightening out her legs to permit him to heave his hairy, naked body over her, then drew up her knees and fanned her thighs wide to accept him.
"I feel like screwing," he panted, hunching, plowing his massive, heavy phallus at her pussy. The blunt-nosed head thudded against her outer labia, dented them into her dry groove and skidded upward. Sylvia winced as the sticky knob caught in a tangle of her pubic hair and pulled it painfully.
"Golly, easy, Honey," she implored, quickly pushing a hand between her slight, sinewy body and his wiry torso. She encountered his wet cock, pushed it aside and parted the lips of her pussy with her fingers, deftly combing the coarse, brown tendrils of her moss to the side, so that her sex rut was unobstructed.
For a moment, she made a ring of thumb and forefinger and circled his scrotum near its attachment. She squeezed and pushed it away from ifs sag against the crack of her butt.
"Honey, I need to be ready, too," she whispered as he dry-fucked his cock across her flat belly in impatience. "I'm dry and it will scrape and hurt."
"Let's get with it, Syl," Tom grunted. "Put it in for me, or I'll get my hand down there and aim it and rip it up your cunt and tear out everything between your belly button and your tail-bone."
Almost defensively, she grasped his long, thick dong near the base, milked it a few strokes. "Would you rip your big peter into that Trina Stein-or any other woman-this way?"
He heaved back on his heels, to give her room to adjust the 'head of his prick in her groove. "I know I've talked about her, but I don't go for cheating and if I caught you or heard you at it, I'd cuff your head 'til your brown hair turned white and your eyelashes fell off."
Sylvia scowled in the dark as she obediently swabbed the huge bulb up and down her slowly lubricating vulva. She set it against her entry, timing it before his next admonition to hurry it up.
She placed both hands against his hip bones as if she could control the force and speed of his invasion. "Oh-oh-oh," she gulped as his Ups lurched forward and it seemed he was turning hi,-outer petals inward.
"Gaaaaaaaawd," she croaked as the giant head popped inside her shrunken vagina. "Let it soak a minute," she pleaded, grateful that his weight relaxed and the pressure of his prick slackened.
She squirmed her ass under him, trying to speed the flow of her own lubricants to grease the passage for his prodigious prick. When his huge palms groped over her opulent breasts, she curled her arms across his hairy shoulders and pressed her knees against his lean flanks.
"In a minute," she whispered. "I'm getting hot and juicy and ready. Feel my pussy starting to heat up and get all wet and honeyed for you?"
He grunted and heaved farther into her reluctant saddle. Her knees skidded from his body and he drove two or three inches of prick into her burning pussy, stretching the crinkled walls.
"So goddamned tight I think I can hear my cock squeak when I slide it up your snatch," Tom grunted, his hands gripping her firm cones almost cruelly.
Slowly, the sickness in the pit of her stomach dissipated as her channel became responsive to the steady penetration of his massive prong. "It's getting good already," she sighed.
She swiveled her rounded bottom to facilitate the passage of his prick into her snug cunt. Flames came to life and began to dance along her channel, licking at the fleshy log her husband had imbedded between her shapely legs.
As soon as he sank the full length of his cock in her, she slid the calves of her legs up over his rump and held him to her, forcing him to soak his prick in her pussy until she was fully adjusted.
She worked a hand between their bare bodies and flattened it over her stomach, certain she could feel a grotesque welt created by his rigid member buried in the core of her being.
"Ready?" he grunted, his hips starting to push and rotate in her tight saddle.
Slowly, she relaxed her legs and nodded in the dark. Her eyes widened and there was a regret in her as he slowly hauled the length of his cock from her cunt until just the plundering knob remained locked in her snatch.
"Uh-uh-uhhhhhhhh," she wailed as he pumped it back into her and she was sure she could feel the progress of its pistoning through the outer wall of her abdomen. The friction along the walls of her pussy that were cinched around his massive rod sent sparks darting through her loins, dulling all senses but the foremost one of having her cunt slammed and crammed full of grinding cock.
Because she wanted to, she began upriding her bottom at his inward lunges, curving her crotch to his demanding, hammering prick. "I'm gonna cum quick," she giggled in the dark. "I love your fucking me at all hours-if you'd be more gentle when you first start" His prick was gliding smoothly, hotly, snuggly into her cove now. She curled her arms around his neck to give her leverage to up-fuck her crotch to get every inch of his cock in her suctioning, milking cunt.
When his mouth fumbled at her bosom, she removed one arm from his shoulders and pushed a tit to his face, setting a turgid nipple against his greedy lips. "That's it, Honey. Suck momma's tittie good. Aaaaaahhhhh, yesssssss, suck my hot tit and fuck my hot cunt."
The only sound in the room was their labored breathing, the soft snock-snock of his cock into her cunt and the smack-smack of his heavy balls bounding against the crack of her butt, against her burning, itching ass-hole.
Sylvia got her heels denting into the lean cheeks of his toiling butt and pressed him forward on his down and inward plunges. "Sooooooo goooooood, fucking," she crooned, reveling in the exquisite sensations of her pussy muscles crawling and coiling around his plunging prod.
"Really, I think you fib when you say you wouldn't give it to Trina," she sighed. "Or Jean or Pearl, too," she added. "Or any other woman who looked like she wanted and needed a good fucking."
"Hush and fuck," Tom grunted, nibbling her tittie tip and hammering his cock into her fiery cunt. "Eeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiii, Damn-damn-damn," she howled as he levered and pried the length of his cock around in her convulsing, erupting pussy. "Go-cum, Tom-honey," she begged as she was wracked with explosions.
There was a hot wetness all through her crotch and she could feel a moist, searing, scalding trickle leaking from her plundered hole and down over her anus. "Just cum in me and don't cornnnnnnn . . ." she began, but he yanked his cock from her hungry cunt and bludgeoned it into her ass-hole.
"Eeeeeyhyyyyyyyyyyyiiiiii," she squalled from total impalement of her rectum. Tears flooded from her eyes and intense pain shot through her guts. But he continued to corn-hole her, slamming into her depths and unleashing his jizz just as she was about to adapt and accept the merciless invasion of her butt.
"Whyyyyyyy do you do that sometimes," she sobbed in frustration and disappointment. "We can be fucking so good and then you sort of ruin it for me and shaft my ass and hurt me and jizz my bowels. Why, Tom?"
He collapsed against her, panting and gasping, his cock pulsating and pumping cum into her guts. "I don't want any kids."
"Me, either, now," she cried softly. "That's why I wear a diaphragm."
CHAPTER THREE
Sylvia watched her husband dress. Then she shuffled out of bed and put on panties and a dressing gown. She helped him pull on the brown coveralls and patted him on the butt, then the back, letting her fingers trace the monogram : WALTHAM'S Wonder Service.
"If we had such a wonder service, we wouldn't be living here and in one of these cheap houses," she said disdainfully.
"If I made so damned much money, we wouldn't qualify for a low-interest mortgage," he retorted, looping an arm over her shoulders. "How come you walk so funny?"
"Because," she said, "I feel as though I have a big corn cob jammed up my ass." And she shrugged from under his arm and changed course from the living room to the kitchen. "I'll make you some breakfast, Stud."
"Just coffee," he said, closing the front door. "Damned fog really rolling in from the river." He perched on a stool at the serving bar. "There's a new waitress at the Diner and the guys get a kick out of deviling her."
Sylvia avoided his hand as he attempted to cup and tweak her breast. "You sure you guys aren't making a play to devil your eggs in her salad drawer?"
A sharp retort rose to his lips and died there. "What do you plan to do today?" he muttered, lighting a cigar, clearing his throat and squinting piercingly through his glasses at her placid face as she poured two cups of coffee.
Her full lips pouted across her wide mouth and she brushed irritably, at her long, wavy brown hair. She wished, sometimes, she was more independent, more defiant toward him. "Oh, I will go back to bed for a couple of hours after you leave to open your fixit shop and watch out for what-ever dame you can fixit. Later, I'll check to see if Jeanette has time to shampoo my hair and set it. Why won't you let me get it cut, Tom? It's my hair."
"I happen to like it down to your shoulders this way," he said, a tone of affection strong in his voice. "And if you ever cut it, I vow I'll shave every bit of hair around your pussy and off your lovely plump little mound."
"You would, too," she scowled, pouring the remainder of the coffee into a Thermos. "Here. Now get the heck out of here. I need to rest up from your rough screwin' and shafting my butt hole and cornholin' your jizz in my rear end."
* * *
For an hour after Grant had left for the little church, Trina Stein sat disconsolately at the secondhand kitchen table doing what she had promised. Trying to understand.
But, really, she did not understand Grant's platitudes that they had "to resist the desires of the flesh and remain true to God's way. Sex is not meant for physical pleasure, but to people the earth."
She refilled her cup with decaffeinated coffee and suffered the memory of being put off again the night before. "I thought when we got married last June we could do whatever we wanted when-ever we wanted," she had cried softly, trying to get her arms around Grant, to cling to him.
But he had pushed away gently, not even letting her kiss him.
"Too many people on earth now," she said softly, blinking away hot tears. She stared morosely through the window into the thickening fog that lay fluffily over the weedy back yard.
Times-lots of times in the past month-she wished she was back in Portland. Maybe, not even married, too. But she knew-thought-Grant was doing the best he could. They had gotten the house-almost new-with no down payment when they agreed to clear the weeds around it and level out the huge piles of dirt the contractor had left when the government had pulled out of the project because someone had over-estimated the demand for low-cost housing in this area.
She shivered on the seat of the plastic-covered chrome chair that needed reupholstering. He had kissed her warmly before he left to continue working to clean up the church. But, somehow a physical torment lingered strong and painful in her body.
He had said that boy would be around again after school to continue working on the weeds and shoveling the dirt around, but he would be late again. Some men from the church were coming in after their work and from the farms to begin painting the inside.
"What can a small boy do with just a shovel and a hoe against all those weeds and all that dirt?" she murmured, voice shaky. Distantly, she heard Tom Waltham leave to open his business and she wondered absently whether the other men in. this dismal project shunned the love of their wives. like Grant did her.
Gloomily, she got up, holding the quilted robe about her, and took the little pill disk from its hiding place in the flour cannister. She was glad her mother insisted on sending her the pills every month after warning her to "take them faithfully until you're certain your marriage is going to work out."
Trina washed down the pill and splashed the remainder of the water from the aluminum glass into the sink. "I don't know why I should take them," she muttered, "we only do it about once a month and I don't see too much risk in getting PG."
She stood staring out the window above the sink at the drifting fog and the shadowy splotches of crusted snow that still lingered from the mid-March storm. Idly, she wondered how Corky Graham could accomplish much with the ground frozen and the snow and fog and all. It would be Corky that Grant was sending, she mused, hearing his motorbike as he brought the newspaper.
That would be something to do : Read the paper, she thought with a flicker of interest. Anything to combat the boredom. She left the house and minced down the slick sidewalk to where the curb was supposed to be, to the yellow paper box.
The youth braked in front of her and handed her the folded paper. "Hi, Mrs. Stein. Guess I'll be around about three-thirty to do battle with the weeds and dirt again. I sure hope the ground thaws a little."
"Me, too," Trina smiled tremulously, peering through the gloom and wisps of fog at his round, freckled face. She almost chided him about needing a haircut as she peered at the tufts of unruly red hair that escaped from under and around the blue motorcycle helmet.
She backed away slightly as he revved the engine and cut across the gravel street to hand the paper to Jeanette Carter. As she was about to turn away, Jeanette called, "Hi, Trin', why don't you come over later today? Coffee and gab and whatever."
"Maybe. Yes, I guess so. Will Syl and Pearl be over, , too?"
"Unless today is different from all other days," Jeanette waved. "Brrrrrrrr, I'm getting out of this damned soup and maybe have a shot of something warming."
The flush of warmth of the meeting faded and Trina trod sadly back into her own house. She knew Jean drank-they all did. All of them in the project. What there was. She sorta wished the other two vacant houses had people, too.
Unaccountably, her mind turned to the boy who was three or four inches taller than her five-four. But still a boy to her. Sort of a lot like that boy she had gotten paired with on that frolic up the Columbia River near The Dalles. To that state park.
"I bet I could give Corky a nice haircut," she mused with a pang, suddenly wishing she had finished her course at the beauty college, but had quit when she met and married Grant.
"His hair wasn't red, though," she breathed, a hand going to her own long, copper-red tresses. "His hair was more closer to black-even darker than brown."
An uncomfortable heat flushed through her body as Trina's mind pulled back the nebulous recollection. And she felt even more sinful than she had felt then-after things Grant said about sex.
"But, I-we-really didn't do anything so terribly bad," she sighed, eyes misty.
She had only a vague suspicion what the boy and girl were doing in the backseat as she sat staring at her eerie reflection in the windshield, fending off the hands trying to get up under her dress tail.
After a time, the girl's squeals of protest sub-sided and the car was loud with the sounds of their heavy breathing. And the car rocked from their actions. But pretty soon-it seemed like a long time to her-the couple straightened and got out of the car and strolled away into the dark toward the edge of the Columbia.
She had finally let the boy with her kiss her dry, nervous lips and pushed his hand away from her, slumped behind the wheel, weeping softly, raggedly. "Ooooh, geez, it hurts so bad," he had whimpered.
She touched his shoulder his cheek. "What hurts-so bad?" she queried timidly, frightened. "What hurts you so bad? I didn't do anything. Did I?"
"No," he snuffled. "You didn't do anything and won't do anything."
"What hurts you so bad?" she said sympathetically.
She felt petrified as his hands slumped into his lap and she watched him, by the pale light emanating from the radio dial, unbutton his pants, grope inside.
She was stunned and alarmed as she stared at the thing protruding from his clothes. Never-even with five brothers-had she seen a male cock before.
"Hurts something terrible," the boy whimpered. "You can fix it, Trina."
"Whaaaaaaattttttt? How?" she puzzled, struggling only weakly as he took her wrist and pressed her trembling hand down on his stub of flesh. "Nooooooo," she bleated softly, startled by the intense heat of him, "Pleeeeeeeasssssse," she whined.
She let him curl her fingers around his organ. "Just like this," he whispered hoarsely, his hand starting hers to gliding up and down on his quivering flesh.
"This isn't nice," she protested weakly, unaware he had taken his hand away and hers was stroking steadily, fingers even digging into the pulsing shank of meat. A surge of heat assailed her and she giggled nervously, bending her face toward his lap. His clothes were rumpled around his male appendage. And she could see better what her hand was doing and feeling.
Only dully was she aware he had taken a hand-kerchief from his pocket and had it wadded in his left hand. "Faster, Trina," he pleaded and she turned on the seat, a heel dug into her fanny, to make her hand whip and flog up and down on his hard, hot spear.
He squalled suddenly, his body lurching upward and he swabbed the handkerchief over the dark knob as her hand swept the thick, warm skin up over it. She felt the inner tensing of his hard flesh and her hand was showered and flooded by a hot, thick, sticky fluid.
"Jesus, I love it," he panted, "keep jacking me off while I shoot."
Stupidly, she asked, "Does it still hurt?"
"It's better-lots better," he said, voice strained and muffled.
She watched, stupefied as he took the handkerchief away and swabbed the white, pearly slime from her hand. Still, she clung to his slowly softening meat.
"You could kiss it," he suggested, an arm looping over her shoulders, behind her neck.
"NoooooOOOOOHhhhhhh," she protested as he pushed her face into his lap. Her hand slid down his shaft, pulling the skin back. Her lips came in contact with the purplish bulb.
"Pleeeeeeasssssse," he wheedled.
And she did, kissing it in quick pecks. Abruptly, he pushed her face closer. Her mouth opened to protest, but she had a mouthful of the head of his cock. She tasted the sweetness of him and sucked involuntarily. A heat wafted through her body, tingling in her young breasts and scalding deep between her legs.
Memory failed her and she couldn't say just how long she had sucked on his cock, unmindful of his hand playing on her raised rear end and a hand fumbling and squeezing her breasts through her sweater and blouse and filmy bra.
"Those four years when I was sixteen don't seem so long ago," Trina sniffled, wiping her blue eyes and sipping the cold coffee.
She had told her mother about it not about what she had in her mouth and what she did to it in her mouth-but about having her hand on his hard thing.
She had suffered her mother's keen, appraising stare. "I'm glad, Honey, all you did was masturbate him. No great damage done. But worse can happen-and I want you taking The Pill. Just for, your own protection. And I don't think you should date that boy any more."
"I sucked his peter," Trina sobbed, squirming her tormented, burning bottom on the chair. "And I've never even seen my husband's-not even naked. He even locks the bathroom door."
She stiffened, hearing a car park in the street. Then she recognized the sound of the Waltham's old Pontiac sedan. "Sylvia's at Jean's," she murmured to herself.
All through the morning, Jeanette had struggled with varied emotions, ranging from guilt to I-don't-give-a-damn. She found half a glass of whiskey left over from a party the previous Saturday night and opened a bottle of Budweiser.
"Here's to a cheater's Monday," she muttered, carrying both back to the living room and slacking her tall body into the sofa. She braced the heels of both feet on the seat of the sofa and let her legs fan open. It was only then that she realized, when dressing, she had put on a bra and slip and dress-but no panties.
The liquor bit quickly at her mind and her lower lip quivered as she reflected on letting herself be taken by the milkman-on the pretense she wanted the money for a new hat and gloves. Shit, she frowned, she almost never, ever wore a hat or gloves.
She took a sip of the whiskey and a swallow of the beer, her emotion-filmed eyes watching the hem of the dress and slip slide down her long, tapering thighs to bunch in her lap, at the juncture of legs and curvy hips.
"Right up there, in me there, right between my legs, through my bushy lips and up my twat," she murmured, tracing the side of the cold beer bottle down her inner left thigh to rest the wet bottle bottom against her still-sensitive, puffy sex-mouth.
She removed the bottle and held it between her right forearm and waist while her free fingers deftly explored all over where she had been so expertly plundered. "He got it all in my hot little pussy, all right."
She took back the bottle and drained off the remainder of the hard stuff, gulped at the beer. Almost immediately, a hand was plastered over her crotch, middle finger teasing between the responding labia. "No damage done-can't even feel it any more, where he plugged it into my fanny canal. I just got a diligent fucking and a corn-hole-finish plus a little forced nibble on his spent sausage. Just so Charlie never knows, I guess."
Jeanette delved two fingers far into her aroused cunny and twiddled them back and forth. "So what the hell if he does find out? He doesn't want to diddle my needy little twat. But he sure as hell can talk about getting to that cute little Trina Stein, though.
"Uh-Uhhhhhhhhggggggrrrrrhhhhaaaaaa," she gurgled as she pressed a thumb against her swollen clit. "Yeaaaaaahhhhh, he'd screw Sylvia and Pearl, if he had a chance. Damn him."
Almost unbidden, her hand began to massage and caress in rapid masturbatory strokes, the sweet sensations of hand orgasm tightening her muscles and pinching her ass-hole against a torrid burning and agonizing itching. "I don't care if he wants to fuck them-and does fuck them," she gasped, sucking on the long neck of the beer bottle and pretending it was a hard, hot cock about to jizz her mouth full of foam. "I could stand some riding from that horny Tom and Ed, too. I can tell, the way they stare at my legs and boobies. Yep, I would take 'em on between my legs and up my snatch, if I had a chance."
Abruptly, her senses focused, even as she continued fingering herself to a greater climaxing peak. "I wonder how Syl and Pearl would feel about strange tail? I'll ask 'em."
CHAPTER FOUR
Wordlessly, Jeanette took the paper sack Sylvia handed her and took it to the kitchen. "I want you to brush out and wave and set my hair, Jean," Sylvia called after her as she shrugged out of her two-year-old car coat.
"What's the bottle of vodka for?" Jeanette called as she broke the seal and mixed two drinks with a freshly opened can of grapefruit juice. "Drinking," she answered her own question. "Why'd you drive up instead of walking per usual?"
"I thought we gals would wheel it into town-or chase over to Nyssa or up to Ontario and set our butts on some barstools part of the afternoon. Anything to get away from desolation flats for awhile. Thanks, Jean," she said, taking the drink.
Jeanette sat beside Sylvia on the sofa, a foot and calf curled under her. "In this fog? That sounds silly."
"Then we can go to the Sunrise and get a little snockered," Sylvia said adamantly. "Damned Tom took me mean last night-early this morning-and damned near screwed my box sore and reamed my rear hole. Sometimes I almost hate him for his . . ." She paused at the knock on the back door.
"Come in," Jeanette called and both watched Pearl, wearing navy blue ski pants and an egg-shell blue cashmere sweater slink in. "Ain't she a beauty, though," Sylvia nudged Jeanette's shoulder.
"She truly is," Jeanette nodded, eyeing the jut of the pert blonde's twin mounds. "As you were saying...." Jeanette prompted Sylvia, gesturing with her glass for Pearl to help herself. "Ice in the tray in the sink."
"As I was saying, I sometimes almost hate that brutal bastard. Oh, I like my screwing, but not when he pounces on me while I'm asleep and not worked. up and ready for it. He's so damned huge," she finished thoughtfully, lamely.
"You're lucky, though, Syl," Pearl slipped easily into the conversation as she swaggered into the living room and sat in a worn swing rocker across the room. "I tried to get at it with Ed-awoke him just the way he-likes-and he still put me off."
"How does he like to be awakened?" Jeanette blinked her long, dark eyelashes with feigned innocence.
"By," Pearl said with deliberate slowness, "creeping under the covers and blow-jobbing him 'til he's hard. That's how he-likes to wake up-with my hungry little lips lapped around the head of his dong and sucking him hard."
"Whew," Sylvia chirped. Then she swiveled her gaze to the silent Jeanette. "What's on your mind? You got a little ! A lot!"
Jeanette avoided their kindled eyes, frowned, vertical wrinkles forming between her wide-spaced eyes, drawing well-plucked eyebrows into a quizzical arch. "Not from that damned Charlie, I didn't."
Her glance skittished past Pearl's intent green eyes. "The milkman got me this morning," she said with a gush of breathlessness.
"Raped you?" Sylvia bolted to an erect sitting posture.
Jeanette laughed shakily. "No, no, I wouldn't say that, exactly. I guess you could say I sort of led him on-after I got all hot when Charlie brushed me off last night. Well, I needed it bad and the milkman seemed a reasonable solution at the time."
Holding her breath, she waited for recriminations and accusations from her two friends. Pearl's eyes flashed an emerald green lights flashing. Almost simultaneously, they asked, "Was he any good? I mean really gooooooooood?" The diminutive Pearl purred, squirming in the chair.
"Well, he battered it around in my pussy 'til I banged out my brains, jizzed me to start in the cunt and finished it off by churning my butt hole full of liquid cottage cheese."
"Send him around," Pearl chortled.
"Nottttttt me," Sylvia inhaled sullenly. "Tom said if I ever messed around on him and he found out, he'd shave all the hair off my pussy, off my pubis and from around my dump."
"Is that all?" Pearl chuckled, voice rising musically.
"Besides probably beating me cross-eyed," Sylvia added.
"Hmmmph," Pearl huffed. "Not-likely. If I read our hubbies correctly. They'd all three snort and paw the earth to take on any of us-all except our own non-providers of stud service."
"Tom says he won't cheat on me," Sylvia said defensively.
"Bullshit and fertilizer," Pearl laughed merrily. "I bet I could get him in the sack-the way he stares at me, I feel like I just lost all my elastic and buttons and hooks and my clothes fell around my feet. I bet I could get him to lay me-and I'd not let him do it like a rape-job, either. What about you, Jean? I bet he'd drop his pants in a jiffy, if he thought he could get his cock up your slot."
Jeanette sensed herself blushing, pleased and glad that neither had even made a gesture of reproach about her getting dicked by the milkman.
"You don't have to answer that, Jean," Sylvia said. "He has mentioned it has crossed his mind-both of you. And, especially our new neighbor, Trina.
"Here she comes," Pearl said, peering through the window past Jeanette's and Sylvia's heads.
"My old man has the same wandering bull ideas," Jeanette said softly, rising to fix fresh drinks. "Let Trina in-I'm gonna make her a teensy one. She can drink it-or no."
"Come in," Pearl yipped as Trina rang the doorbell. "Ed would romp with you ladies, if he had a chance," she said solemnly, not altering the conversation because Trina was there.
Jeanette returned with four glasses, handed one to Trina without a word. "Well, Trina doesn't have to worry about it, being a bride still of less than a year. That handsome man of hers probably won't give her any peace and rest. I mean, she probably gets more piece than she can handle."
Three pairs of eyes focused keenly on the little redhead as she perched on the arm of the sofa. "You guys," she said with effort as they began laughing. "Wow! Bet my face is red as my hair."
"How about it? How about what Jean says?" Pearl pursued. "You newly weds knock off a piece every night, huh? Goddamn, I wish Ed still had that sexy yen for my under-nourished-I mean-underscrewed body."
Thoughts in a turmoil from surprise, Trina drank nervously, only half tasting the alcohol. "You don't know," she said so softly her voice was barely audible.
She flicked a look at Pearl's face, saw the smile wilt and eyes soften, lips grow slack and compassionate. "I could tell you," she blurted, blinking back tears.
The silence was unexpected and slowly, Trina glanced from face to face.
"Tell us, Trina. We'll understand. And help you de-nut that crazy loon."
"Let me do your hair, Pearl," Trina said, accepting a second drink and following the others into the kitchen and combined dinette. "I was training in a beauty college when I met Grant."
As she piled Pearl's hair high, sweeping it up from the back and sides, concealing the ends and hiding the gold-headed pins, she poured out her frustrations and incomprehension.
A little later, Sylvia said, "Let's all four go into town and have a little drinkee at the Sunrise. You, too, Trina. You've been downing vodka and a little public exposure won't hurt you."
"Yes," Pearl said, hugging her. "I'll buy because I love the way you fixed my hair." She postured before Trina's fuzzy view. "Like a platinum crown. You learned good at that beauty place."
"Too bad she can't send her husband to some kind of good sex school to learn him what a girl needs," Sylvia said caustically.
"Send him over to my place," Pearl began and Jeanette added, "or mine."
"And we'll give him a graduate course in how to screw and take care of a girl and I bet either one of us can go down so far on him he'll think we're gonna suck his male teat right off his crotch."
"I can't," Trina said, eyes blinking. "Not because I don't want to, but Grant is sending the boy again to work in the yard. I'd really like to, though. Really and truly. You have fun and I'll be home-with nothing to do but see that that Corky Graham keeps busy."
After she had shuffled back across the street, the others silently put on their coats, collected purses and ambled out to the car. "That poor kid," Jeanette said. "Someone ought to teach her dumb husband what life's all about. The weaknesses of the flesh-my neglected ass."
With drinks in the back booth of the Sunrise, watching two Mexican farm workers finish a game of pool and leave, Jeanette ventured uncertainly, "About what we were talking about back at the house of the milkman's easy lay," she took a firm grip on her glass and purse to keep her hands from shaking.
"Knock off that crap-consider yourself lucky," Pearl chided. "Just chalk it up to having gotten your cunny caulked with a big, willing prick. Now, what were you trying to say?"
Jeanette took a deep, ragged breath, turned the glass in its wet circle and lit a cigarette. "About our guys," she began hesitantly. "Well, maybe not about Syl's. But ours, anyway.
"I guess all our men have talked or confided or boasted how they'd like to bang one or the other or all of us-I don't mean by our own husbands."
"I know what you mean," Pearl said quickly, green eyes eager bright, pixie mouth curling into a frown of dissatisfaction.
"I may get it pretty often from Tom," Sylvia said slowly, shaking her head to swish her tawny, luxuriant hair over her shoulders. "But I don't know who would appreciate the brute. It really hurts-at first-having him fuck it into your dry hole."
"I'd give it a whirl," Jeanette said, heart pounding.
"Yup," Pearl agreed. "And you can have stolid Ed, the talk-a-better-lay non-stud, then he puts out. I'd give your boar a rut."
"Be my guest," Sylvia smiled tremulously, voice shaky.
Jeanette signaled for another round, covertly dug out the crumpled five-dollar bill Charlie had left to pay the milk bill. "Girls, I have a very evil idea." She laughed with growing nervous excitement. "Let's trade 'em off."
"Could we?" Pearl taunted. "Just tell us how."
"Just swing with each other's hubbies and not let them know a damned thing about it," Jeanette frowned, wondering, herself, just how it could be done.
"Swap husbands and their not knowing anything about it?" Sylvia scowled, face whitening so that the delicate sprinkle of freckles were clear across her nose and cheekbones.
"Gotcha!" Pearl chortled. "We seduce them into laying us. And trust their honor not to squeal to the cuckolded guy and not to tell his own wife."
"What about their egos?" Sylvia asked doubtfully.
"Poop on their egos!" Pearl snorted. "Another fling of joy juice," she waved gaily at the bartender who was squinting at them. "I just bet they wouldn't let out a peep if they got a chance to romp in the sack with a strange piece of tail. I'm pretty sure Ed wouldn't."
"But how?" Sylvia groaned.
"Just use your female wiles when you got the opportunity and the time, Pearl said enthusiastically. "That's all there is to it."
* * *
Still feeling giddy and her eyes not focusing properly, Trina moped around the house, bewildered, yet excited about the illicit talk she had heard. "It wouldn't be right," she mused, "Letting a man besides your husband do it to you." She gritted her teeth, clenched her fists at her side as a delicious tightening twinged deep in her insides. A surge of heat licked all through her dainty pussy and a moisture quickly dampened the crotch of her panties. "Not moral at all," she ground her teeth, scowling as she whiffed the faint, heady sweet aroma seeping from between her legs.
She got a drink of water and trembled as the heat became more intense. "Ooooooohhhhh," she whined, "why should filthy talk like that make me feel so-so-so naughty?" She scooted her feet apart and her fingers clawed at the crotch of her panties to unstick them from her curvy, full lips. "And I'm getting my underwear all nasty."
Trina glanced over her shoulder to see that the drapes were drawn across the front picture window, then pulled up her dress and rolled the soppy panties down her thighs, let them fall around her ankles, stepped out of them with one foot and lifted the other to remove them.
With the crumpled panties wadded in her hand. she let her dress fall back in place just as the doorbell rang. "Oh!" she squeaked, changing the panties from hand to hand, not knowing what to do with them. Still indecisive, she wadded them in her right hand and hurried to the door. She opened it about a foot and shivered as a gust of cool air whooshed up under her dress and caressed her hot pussy's soft lips.
Blushing with virginal shame, she peered into the calm face of the boy. "Oh, hi, Corky," she breathed. Her breath caught as he pulled his hands from the pockets of his mackinaw and shoved them into his pants pockets. Her eyes, unbidden, followed the motion and riveted on the front of his pants with the telltale male tenting.
"I guess I'll start now, Mrs. Stein," Corky smiled, cocking his head inquisitively as she stood behind the door with her head and neck craned around the edge.
Trina sought words, swallowing with difficulty. She wondered with a sense of modesty and horror whether he was able to smell her as clearly as she could smell herself. "Yes," she gulped, a hot shiver flushing upward through her belly as the youth absently scratched himself through the pocket.
"I'll get the shovel, I guess, and the pick and see if I can dig into that big pile of dirt. Reverend Stein aorta wanted me to work on it and see if I could get that sunken place filled in where the ground settled over the field drain."
Trina nodded. "Yes," she said uncertainly. "You do whatever he told you or whatever you can. I don't see how you can do much, though, as frozen as the ground is."
"I'll give it my old sophomore try," the red-headed boy grinned infectiously. Just as he started to turn away toward the carport and the tool shed at the rear, Trina said impulsively, "I think I'll take a hot bath and I'll fix some hot cocoa for you pretty soon. Okay?"
"Oh, you bet," Corky winked and waved, striding away, a picture of a diminutive, determined man. And Trina closed the door and wandered uneasily to the bathroom.
She stripped naked in the bedroom after starting the tub to filling and carried the quilted robe to the bath. After soaking in the hot water, she stood reluctantly and dried slowly, peering covertly out the steamy bathroom window at the boy who was swinging the heavy pick to break the frozen crust of the huge pile of dirt-she supposed so that he could reach the dirt that was not frozen. Naturally.
Trina bobbed out of sight as the boy stopped, laid down the pick and glanced all around. He turned his back to the highway a couple of hundred yards away and dropped to his knees.
"What are you going to do?" Trina whispered, puzzled. Then she gulped as the kid unbuttoned his pants, slipped out his peter and took a pee. He was almost facing her and her gaze was fastened on the piece of flesh so stark white against his blue corduroys.
She wanted to jerk her eyes away, but stood as if hypnotized, fascinated as he shook his peter and milked out drops of urine she couldn't see from that distance. Then he crammed his penis back into his clothes, buttoned up and began swinging the pick again.
Trina continued gawking at him long after she had finished drying, unaware she was rubbing the coarse towel across the jutting crowns and taut, tingling nipples of her breasts.
The boy tossed the pick aside and picked up the shovel. He drove it into the area he had picked clear several times until it was firmly imbedded, then he tried prying on the handle to break the crust loose.
Trina smiled with warm amusement as she watched him begin to lose his temper when the frozen ground wouldn't yield. He glanced about furtively, clearly said something-probably obscene or wrathful, she thought. He seized the handle with both hands, trying to lever at the same time he kicked a foot against the shovel. His other foot skidded on the frozen ground and a frozen patch of snow and he was hurled forward, falling hard.
She could see that the shovel handle had struck him by the way his body doubled forward, yet his hips seemed to hang suspended on the end of the handle. He collapsed, hard, to the ground, his head bonging into the frozen clod of dirt he had dislodged where he was trying to dig. And he lay still.
"Oh, my God ; Oh, my God!" Trina wailed softly, her heart pounding violently with fear. She flung the towel into the tub, bolted from the bathroom and raced toward the back door. "Don't be hurt ; don't be hurt bad," she cried softly, stopping as she remembered she was naked.
She skidded to a halt on the slick kitchen tile and nearly fell. She turned and ran back to the bathroom and flung herself into the robe. She kicked her feet into flimsy house slippers in the bedroom and fled through the house, the skirt of the robe billowing behind her. If the boy had been alert, he would have seen a wild vision of a lady naked from the waist to her ankles.
But he was lying on the ground, moaning softly, just half-conscious. Trina knelt beside him, lifted his head and saw the angry welt on his temple.
"Are you hurt bad? Please don't be hurt terribly," she sobbed . in a near-panic, cradling his smooth cheek to her bosom. "Ooooohhh, please? We don't have a telephone yet and I can't call a doctor or an ambulance or anything. And everyone is gone and the only ones who have a telephone are the Walthams."
He stirred in her arms and mumbled incoherently, struggling to rise. She put her hands under his arms, noticing his hands were clutched against his groin and she knew-just knew positively-he had ruined himself and that the shovel handle had hit him in the area that is very vital to a man. Or boys, too.
She got him to his feet and supported him. "Can you get in the house, if I help you?" He sobbed convulsively and she dragged him along with her.
CHAPTER FIVE
Corky was gulping and gasping as she helped him lie on the sofa in the living room. His face was so white, she agonized, the normally dim freckles stark and clear. Tears seeped from his tightly closed eyes.
Trina cradled his head in her arms, shaking with fright. She just knew he was bleeding where the end of the shovel handle had gouged into his-his-well, belly or near thereabouts.
Impulsively, she kissed him just as his mouth opened so he could run the tip of his tongue over dry lips. His tongue flicked into her mouth and a hundred bolts of lightning sparked and crackled through her entire being, exploding in sheets of flame deep between her legs.
"Aaaaaaahhhhhh," she whimpered, her mouth impulsively suctioning onto his mouth, her teeth closing with dainty gnashings on his darting tongue.
Dizzily, she leaned back from him, her eyes amazed and tender on his pallid face. "What can I do for you ? " she fretted. And she thought of what she had heard and read and seen on television of injured people always getting a drink of brandy or whiskey or some such.
Her thoughts just wouldn't become logical. If it really works, she reasoned erratically, why wouldn't just any kind of liquor suffice? And there is some left at Jean's She remembered the bottle of vodka that was almost half full.
"Oh, please be all right, Corky," she sobbed, standing, staring at the pathetic way his hands were palmed over his groin and lower belly. Determined, she ran from the house, across the street, burst into the Carter home and ran back with the Smirnoff.
She lifted his head and held the bottle to his dry lips. "Please drink some?" she pleaded. His eyes flickered open and she smiled tremulously. He gagged and choked, but she persisted. "Come on, Corky? You drink some for me and I'll drink some with you."
Pleased by his obedience, she tilted the raw liquor to her own mouth and took a couple of deep gulps, so frightened it went down easily. But it hit her empty stomach like a ball of liquid fire.
"Geeeezzzz-aaaaaaahhhhhhh," she shuddered, weakly setting the bottle on the table at the end of the sofa. "Still hurts?" she blinked owlishly. When he nodded slowly, eyes closed, she let a little cry of sympathy escape her pursed lips. She knew she should look-she couldn't see any blood oozing through his clothing.
As gently as she could, she dragged off his coat. In the process, his left hand flopped out against her and his doubled fist lodged in the Vee of the bodice of the robe, and it gaped wide.
She made a half-hearted effort to close it over her exposed cones, then tugged out his shirttail. She stared at his white belly, but could see nothing. She pushed his hands away and pulled down the waistband of his pants as far as she could.
And she saw nothing. She loosened the belt and his pants slid a couple of inches. "Oooooooohhh, darn-darn," Trina sighed, indecisive. "Did the handle hit you in the...? " One of her hands slipped from its grip on his waistband and skidded over the rounded bulge. "You know. ... "
But Corky just lay on his back, eyes closed, breathing shallowly. Without realizing it, she picked up the vodka and took a deep swig that caused her vision to dance and waver.
"I gotta," she muttered. "Ooooohhh, I wish Grant was here to-help me. ... Or, do I," she whispered, shaking fingers opening the fly of his pants. She breathed shakily.
No blood.
She stood, hovering over him, not caring that her ripe breasts were bulging from the gaping robe. She pulled his pants down around his ankles. She hesitated a moment and hauled his jockey shorts down, stifling a gasp as her eyes darted at his suddenly exposed young genitals.
"Did the shovel hit you-there?" she waggled a finger at his limp cock and twin egg yolks that lolled between his relaxed thighs.
She glanced at his face, his pale eyes intent on her face for a moment before they flickered shut. "Did you get hurt in your-privates?" she whispered, voice husky, mouth intensely dry as she stared at his limp appendages. "Your-penis-and-testicles?" she managed, face flaming with embarrassment as she stared at his nakedness.
She saw the dark red splotch in the skin across his groin bone, but suspected the handle of the imbedded shovel had also struck him in his-privates.
Trina knelt beside him, a hand again brushing casually, irritably to close her gaping robe. As she inhaled deeply, she extended a trembling hand to touch the dark red area, her heart lurching as she detected a faint quivering in his penis.
"Ooooohhh," Corky sighed. "That feels-kind of nice-sorta soothing."
"I'm so glad-Oh, that you aren't hurt terribly," she smiled encouragingly, gratefully, her hand moving, fingertips caressing the place, brushing the sparse tendrils of reddish hair across the curve above where his-penis was attached.
"Niiiiiiicccee," he murmured.
"Yeaaaahhhhh," Trina laughed with relief and a fingertip coursed out and down to trace along the top of his dangling penis. She blinked with excitement and awe as his white thing-shaped so like a cow's teat-twitched. And she would have sworn it stretched out-just a little bit-as she continued to run just the tip of a finger up and down its curving.
It did ! Yes, it seemed-no !-it did grow a little bit longer !
Amazing! Trina breathed heavily, her firm breasts jutting out and upward, the tips burgeoning to smooth little cherry shapes. A sweet giddiness of excitement rippled in her taut tunny and there was a hot twinging between her open legs. And there was an accompanying itch and burn so intense.
She stole a glance at his face and was glad his eyes were closed. Her gaze didn't leave his face while her fingers slowly curled around the steadily growing piece of boy-thing. She lifted it up from between his legs and her fingers closed on him firmly, tips kneading and teasing and caressing.
Her mind seemed locked to all thoughts and emotions but what her hand was doing, stroking up and down, up and down as the remarkable thing in her fingers continued to grow, the pear-shaped tip seeming to crawl out of the skin, out of her quickening fist.
Trina gritted her teeth and changed to her right hand without missing a stroke and used her left hand to cup and lift his twin nuggets that seemed, to her, some sort of miracle.
A full smile curved her lips as the boy's body shook and he groaned as if in tortured misery. But she knew it was a treatment every man and boy loved. "You're going to be just fine," she whispered, voice ragged with her own mounting passion. She jostled his balls in her left hand as she lowered her face to peer closely at her gently flogging right hand. She twisted about, putting her back partly to him, thinking she didn't want him to see her face or watch her-jack him off !
When his belly muscles contracted, so did hers. And her hair-fringed furrow was dripping, oozing hot honey onto her inner thighs.
She shuddered as one of the youth's hands moved between her arm and body, fingers fumbled inside the robe and explored a feverish, super-sensitive opulent tit.
"So hard and hot," she sighed so softly he didn't hear. She ran. her thumb over the slick glans and she peeled the skin far back to fully expose the thick flange of the corona. "I never thought that a man's business could be attractive. But," she giggled softly, almost smugly, " man's-cock is absolutely handsome. Uuuuummmmm," she hummed on impulse and brushed back her long, wavy red hair and kissed the torrid tip of his sex-torch, letting the tip of her tongue trace over the smooth, pointy knob on the end of his ample young cock.
"Yaaaaaahhhhhheeeeeee," she mumbled, tentatively closing her red lips over about half of the tasty bulb and tasting his male flavor. "Yeeessss, I like it," she breathed. And she munched her lips over the head of the boy's prick, closing them behind the hefty ridge. "I like the taste and feel of a hard cock in thy mouth." She let her cheeks gather saliva around his husky, thick prick as she bobbed her face down on him, tickling the head against the palate, the curve leading into her throat.
All moral concepts fled her mind as a need and wantonness pervaded her feverish mind. The timid hand mauling her hot, hard tittie aroused a bold, animal instinct in her. Her middle began buckling slowly as her hips weaved and humped and rotated in urgent coital need. Her left hand fondled and loved the boy's hardening nuts and she struggled to focus her eyes on his meaty stump as it slowly vanished into her O'ed lips.
"Gluuuummmmmmmm," Trina suckled loudly, her tongue snaking to devour the big, hot, tender morsel of fuck-flesh. A wild singing seemed to grow louder in her head as she rejoiced in the exciting sensation of closing her teeth behind the firm, rubbery ridge of the head. Lustful fascination abounded in her as she stroked along the shaft with her frantic tongue.
A tempestuous frenzy was storming deep in her hot, juicy cunny as her ass humped and bucked while she mouth-fucked the kid's lusty cock with increasing vigor. Each time she took it all the way into her throat, she slurped her mouth around his cock, pressing her chin into the softness of his lower belly in an effort to get more and more prick punched into her gullet.
Tentatively, she took her hands from his aching, quivering balls and the base of his pleasure-root and shuffled the robe from her shoulders, tossing it to one side. A nebulous thought wormed into her mind that it would be heavenly if his mouth was sucking and eating her pussy. Why not? If she could gobble his fabulous tusk of sex-meat, couldn't he give her delight by doing the same to her pussy with his mouth?
But he's been hurt, her mind wailed, and maybe doesn't feel like eating my hot little cunny. There was a thunder building deep in her grinding channel and her desire to have it humped and jammed full of lovely cock was becoming unbearable.
She eased her mouth from his cock and sucked the fat knob. With the wonderful head of his cock lodged in one cheek, she stole a look at his pale, emotion-pinched face. "Do you feel like doing-it-to me?" she bubbled, licking her spit and his tasty oil into her sex-hungry mouth.
His eyes fluttered and his fingers clenched roughly on her globe of chest-flesh. Reluctantly, she let the bulb of his cock slip from her mouth and gripped his shaft tightly, fingers flogging slowly up and down his red, tormented prick.
"Yes," she sobbed, eyes riveted to the boy's magnificent joint. "How? I need it in me," she whined. She coiled her arms around his waist and rolled backward onto the floor, tugging him with her. With her right leg, she guided him over her and into the wanton saddle of her thighs. Her breath gushed from her lungs as he toppled onto her naked body, flattening her opulent breasts.
She felt his hot, wet stick pressed into her belly, his heavy balls sagging against her gaping, steaming pussy trough. She shoveled a hand between their bodies and pushed against the resilient head of his cock, forcing it into her sticky furrow. Trina bobbed and rolled her ass, getting the end of his prick lower, pushing, pushing, forcing it. When the fat knob reached the rim of her hole, it skidded into her as if it were a piston especially made for her cylinder.
"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhheeeeeee," she wailed with delicious pleasure, her nether mouth savoring the hot, snug glide of his cock into her lust-glazed cunt. "Ahhhhhhhiiiieeeeee," she howled, muscles tensing in her butt cheeks, along her thighs as she brought her feet up to dent the heels into his lean ass. "Come on," she implored. "Let's do it; you do it to me, deep and fast. Come on, Corky, I love your nice prick in my little twatty. I need it so much I could cry. Please? Come on, fuck me nice and good?"
She drew his tear-streaked face down and stole his quivering lips, biting them demandingly as she forked her tongue into his gasping mouth.
Trina bounced her hips upward, curving her insatiable pussy to his spearing prick. "Nice, isn't it? Don't you love how it feels, having your wonderful, hard prick deep in Trina's pussy?"
She pushed his face down and held a breast to his mouth, sighing and tingling all over as his mouth closed on the cute, tumescent nipple. "Suck my tittie nice and make your nice peter bob in and out of my pussy, Corky." She shook and rotated her eager bottom, forcing a pistoning of his prick in and out of her grasping, coiling cunt. She wished she had removed his boots, thus taking off his pants and shorts. But he got the idea and intuition and her goading took over. He drew his knees up, dug his toes into the worn rug and began humping his skinny bottom. Gradually, he got the hang of it and began pumping his prick in and out of her pussy.
"Ooooooohhhh, yeeeeeessssssss," she whinnied, crossing her ankles across his behind, tugging him into her Veed thighs as she up-fucked her snatch to take his inward lunge. "Fuck me deep and make me have love-explosions all through my hot cunny," she wheedled.
Their bellies smacked sharply, wetly from their combined sweat of passion. "Fuuuuuuuuuucckkkk me deep and fast," she howled in a sudden, uncontrollable frenzy.
The boy heaved his weight up over her, rolling her rounded ass up from the floor as he drummed his vibrating prong into her milking snatch. She. hugged him tightly around the shoulders as she swung her ass upward, taking the full length of his goring cock far into her glutinous snatch. Flames of tempestuous passion leaped and raged in her convulsing twat; thunder began to echo through her body, crashing in mighty explosions deep in her belly and her tits. A fury of wanton greed belched fire along his pistoning, plundering young prick as he pounded it into her.
His cock slammed and banged into her cunt and she heard herself screaming and wailing uncontrollably as she kept her ass flying high to trap his leaping, bounding pleasure-tool. "Keeeeeeeeeepppp fucking me like this for hours and hours," she pleaded, obsessed with lust and a sort of depraved madness for the glory of his hammering cock. Still keeping her ass bouncing to meet his ramming cock, she flung her arms out as her being seemed to come apart in shattered fragments from internal explosions. Her tormented fuck-gash was aflame with passion and lust, the outer lips engorged with blood, thick and fat around his rupturing cock. When he slammed it into her and grated his hard groin harshly against her Venus mound, she squalled like a, demented creature when he flooded her insides with his virginal fizz. She felt she was drowning in scalding oil as his prick pumped her pussy full of his thick, pearly cream. She would have held him against her crotch, but he insisted on pulling away, pulling his cock from her cunt. As soon as she mustered strength, she flopped to him, grabbed his meat and sucked voraciously on his rapidly withering cock. "Wonderful cock and wonderful fucking and being fucked."
CHAPTER SIX
Time and its passage were beyond Trina's comprehension. She remained hunkered naked on the floor where the boy had left her when he had pulled his limp pecker from her avidly sucking mouth. She had reached for his genitals, red and puffed from being well-sucked and well-fucked. But he had stared at her with a mixture of wonderment and accusation on his face as he wrestled with his clothes.
The house was gloomy with gathering darkness and Trina finally stirred. Thinking only of the hot burning and itching in her vacillating cunt, she picked up the robe and shrugged into it. Numbly, she eyed the vodka bottle, picked it up and measured the contents with dazed eyes. With the robe belted loosely, she plodded to the kitchen and poured a water glass about a third full. Logic filtered into her brain that she had to dispose of the bottle so Grant wouldn't see it. She carried the glass with the raw vodka into the backyard with the empty bottle.
"It was fantastic," she breathed as she strode around the high heap of dirt, picked her way through clumps of withered weeds to the edge of a deep drainage ditch that carried away surface water to keep down the water table of the land. "I know he never did it before-but his fucking it in me was better than Grant ever did."
Trina paused behind the shoulder of dirt that shielded her from the highway and tilted the glass. The hot rawness of the liquor caused her to shiver from the burning that spread through her taut belly. The fog swirled wetly around her and seemed to penetrate the robe that billowed loosely around her. She stared upward into the gray bleakness of the fog and smiled, gloating over the. delicious cool sensation of the damp air against her hot body.
"And I sucked hid', " she whispered, a tone of awe her quiet, resolute voice. "And I liked the feel of his nice cock in my mouth and the taste of his handsome male come."
She took another sip, shrugged her shoulders and strode back toward the house, the hem of the robe sailing out and away, letting her long legs sort of slice through the thick fog as heavy as smoke. "Why won't Grant do it with me?" she sobbed softly. "What can be so terribly wrong with sucking his nice peter? And I bet it would be wonderful if he would do the same to me, too."
Trina entered the house, paused in the kitchen to drink the remainder of the vodka, got a drink of water and rinsed the glass. "Darn," she whined, slouching back to the living room and throwing herself onto the sofa. She tugged at the robe to get it around her, but it was rumpled under her rounded rump. A scowl traced wrinkles in her smooth forehead and she rubbed them away with the tips of her fingers.
"I wonder if the girls were serious about getting it-all the fun-from each other's husbands?" she pouted, the vodka stirring a delicious heat all through her vibrant body.
"Wonder if they would let me play, too?" Then she frowned again. "But who would want Grant? He's such a prude and no fun at all."
She heard a car stop out in the street. Her head came up, but she didn't have the ambition to get up and look out. The engine died and a door slammed. "Not my stodgy Grant," she muttered.
The doorbell rang and nerves jangled harshly in her mind and body. "To heck with it," she grumbled. Then there was a gentle rapping. "Go 'way," she said in a whisper. A minute later when the rapping turned to a hard knocking, she called impulsively, "Well, come on in!"
In the heavy gloom she recognized the Rev. Dave Bruce from the nondenominational church in town. She stared at him resentfully and let her head flop back onto the small square pillow with the embroidered cat and ball of yarn.
"Mrs. Stein," the tall, gaunt man said in a deep, melancholy voice, "is your husband here-the Rev. Stein? Are you ill?"
Trina let her head roll from side to side languidly. "No, I'm not sick," she said tersely.
"I know," he said unctuously, closing the door, "the fog is very depressing. Should I call my wife in from the car to talk with you?"
She stared at him sharply. She didn't care for the frail, severe, bird-like woman who always wore an austere black gown that reached midcalf and a straw-woven black hat that reminded her of a bon-bon tray. "No, don't do that," she said, tone flat.
Blue fire seemed to be dancing in his piercing eyes. And Trina knew what he was seeing. She took the edge of the robe and tried to pull it across her middle, over her legs. But her weight held it and her hand slipped loose. He pushed back the wide-brimmed black hat and stepped toward her, silent as the vulture he resembled in the black overcoat that reached below his knees.
She thought his hands seemed abnormally long and slender in the black leather gloves. "I came to see if I could help your husband in any way," he said in a funeral tone as if he were presiding at a cemetery. "All of us engaged in the Lord's work must band together and help each other."
Trina's eyes never left his long, lean face and his blazing eyes as, he hovered over her, slowly bent to his knees. For a moment, she thought he was going to begin praying over her. But he laid a cold, glove-clad hand on her exposed tunny and pressed firmly. She thought he was going to pull the robe over her to conceal her nakedness. Instead, his long, lean hand parted it even more and he slowly rubbed his hand around and around over her belly, rubbing the coarse. curly tendrils of red pubic hair. "Aaaahhhheeeee," Trina sighed, gulping as he spaded his fingers between her legs, pressing into the softness of her inner thighs to palm her thick lips.
When the Reverend Bruce squirmed his hand demandingly between her crushed thighs, Trina obediently drew up her left leg and laid it out flat on the sofa. She scissored her right leg and let the tall preacher stretch her right calf along the top of the back, giving him ample room to work his gloved hand.
She sighed as he unbelted the robe and laid it open. "Oooooeeeeee," she whimpered as he rubbed his right hand in a circular motion over the pink-tipped blossoms of her hot tits.
Muscles strained and stretched as he rubbed his left hand back and forth in her crotch, grinding the puffing labia against her hole and her distended little clit.
"You are truly one of God's beautiful creatures," he intoned sonorously, a finger poking and gouging to open up her feverish furrow. "Yesssss, gorgeous. Such white, clear skin turning pink with the love of life."
Trina squeaked uncontrollably as the soft gloved finger slid up and down her wet gash, paying homage to the tiny thorn of flesh fully risen from its sheath. "Lovely little sex-place," the preacher breathed heavily, pushing the tip of a finger against the firm resistance of her anal ring. "Naaaahhhhh," Trina protested as he pushed forcefully at the hyper-tender entry.
"No, my lovely dear," he grunted, "not this way, of course."
Muscles began reacting spastically in her belly and along the lengths of her tensed, tapering thighs. She sensed hot goose bumps spring out on the moons of her uptilted bottom as he dabbled the tip of his middle finger against the fluttery curtain to her sex-chute. "Your blossom has the delicate perfume of a bouquet," he sniffed loudly, bending over to tickle his tongue into her navel while his right hand pawed and mauled her twin breast melons.
"EeeeeYiiiikeeees," Trina yelped as his lips fastened on her belly button, sending hot flashes through her loins as he sucked her creamy flesh.
It was as if he had run a blazing torch into her cunt when his longer finger penetrated her in a quick, ruthless thrust. She started a scream, but he choked it off immediately, strangling it in her throat with his right hand clasped over her wide open mouth.
Her right leg rose from the top of the sofa, extending straight into the air as he deliberately twisted his fully inserted finger back and forth in her throbbing, burning pussy. The ridges of the seams of the glove finger scraped and agitated the sparking, tingling walls of her snatch.
Tears sprang into her eyes and his gray face with hot, red spots on the cheekbones was a blurred evil image. But her bottom began jolting up and down as he rotated his finger in her and rhythmically worked it in and out, finger-fucking her into a delectable madness.
"Aaaaahhhh, yesssss, you lovely morsel," he muttered, "you love it; you were made for a man's pleasure, for corrupting and enjoying and eating and fucking."
Astonished and frightened, she suffered his putting the big hat over her face as she shifted position. "Whaaaattt?" she burbled, feeling a scratching on the tender skin of her right thigh. The scratch of the faint gray stubble of his beard, she thought.
"Aaaaagggghhh," she gurgled as her full pussy gash was captured by his thin lips. Her ass lurched upward as his tongue ran like sandpaper up and down her vulva, tickling her tortured clit and dipping deep into her smoldering cunt-hole.
Labored mewling sounds fluttered from her lips and it seemed her bottom end was in the power of some being within and without. Her entire body trembled and undulated, her hotly exposed ass rising to push her pussy mouth against his lips.
Instinctively, her arms reached for the somber pleasure-giver, one hand covering the hand that was goading her tumescent nipples, the other searching intuitively around his waist to feel the male tenting of his black trousers. She couldn't quite reach her objective. Not until he moved back on his knees. Then her fingers could close on the hard, hot welt down one pants leg.
He gobbled noisily in her torrid trench and scooped his tongue in and out of her fluttering snatch as she squeezed the rib of flesh yearningly, lovingly.
"Aaaahhh, yessss, Sister," the lustful preacher grunted in her boiling twat as he sucked and licked lasciviously, bringing her out, out, far out until she thought she would scream as the exquisite pleasure reached an unbearable height.
"You love your lovely pussy eaten out, don't you?" he gulped in her blood-hot groove. To Trina, it seemed he was sucking the life from her cunt with his voracious mouth, keeping his face snuggled to her hairy crotch.
As if from a distance, as if her being was protracted from her body, she heard herself pleading and whimpering and was watching her snatch gobbled by this relentless man who had slid a hand under her left leg and cupped her bottom in his huge palm, lifting her snatch to his depraved mouth.
"Ooooohhh-aaaaahhhh," Trina gulped, helpless, feeling the gloved thumb pressing at her anus. But she was unable to circumvent his carnal penetration and she had the shameful feeling her bowels were actually relaxing and her ass-hole was expanding to accept the skewering of his hand.
"Whoo-whooooo-whooooeeee," she panted, her ass rotating and sizzling on his thumb as if it were a spit. His other fingers dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her butt buns, not torturing her, really, but accentuating the feral excitement and intense pleasure flames that seemed to engulf her body.
When he suddenly extracted his thumb and took his mouth from her roasting cunt, she was nearly overwhelmed with disappointment. She stared into the room that was now murky-dark as he clapped the huge black hat with the flat crown back on his head. "Nooo, no, no, don't stop," she whined, voice tiny and shrill like a child's.
"Of course not, you sweet, hot little fuck-animal." He shook his head. "You want me to help you to bed, don't you, Mrs. Stein?"
Trina relinquished her grip on his peter and let him help her to a sitting position. He stripped off her robe and tossed it across his shoulder. He dragged her to her feet and she leaned, naked, against him, legs weak and trembling. She laid her head against his shoulder and snuggled to him as he patted and palmed her bare buttocks, fingers tracing deep into the cleavage, seeking her itching and burning rectum.
She sighed as his other hand jostled first one plump, jutting tit, then the other. She motioned languidly toward the bedroom as they moved in slow motion along the dark hallway.
She stood docilely beside the bed as he turned on the small reading lamp. Her eyes blinked uncertainly as the towering man slipped off his shoes, removed his pants and shorts. She stared at his genitals with growing astonishment.
His prick was long and rigid, reaching straight out from its rooting in his groin. For a moment, it reminded her of a length of the handle of the bristle broom she used to sweep the carport-it was that small around and had hardly any knob at all.
She peered at him questioningly as he laid a gloved hand on her shoulder and turned her. "On the bed, Trina," he said, voice choked with emotion and lust. Obediently, she turned and flopped across the bed, starting to roll onto her back and spread her legs for him.
"Stay on your back," he commanded, twisting her ankles to flop her over as he pulled her toward him until the saucy curve of her buttocks were at the edge of the bed. "Get your knees up under you-against your delectable Apples of Eden-and raise your butt high in the air and push it back to me. Aaaaahhhh, yessssss!"
Trina twisted her neck and craned to look back at him as he laid his hands on the crowns of her buttocks and addressed her ass end. "Aaaaiiikee," she wheezed as the point of his prick dabbled at the opening of her tormented pecker-pouch. Nerves sparked and muscles crawled in her tunny as his hot rod veered through her groove, backed up and speared her cleanly in the cunt, stabbing in one long grating stroke into her until his bony groin was crushed against the tight curve of her butt.
Fingers tangled in her hair and her eyes closed momentarily as he drew out his immense needle and drilled it back into her, the oils of her passion greasing his axle as he levered and pried and ripped his long, slender prick deep into her clenching pussy.
Trina began sobbing with passionate gratitude as he reamed her neglected snatch with long, expert plunging, his balls slap-slapping up between her tensed thighs against her hot, hard tunny.
Timidly, she reached a hand down under her and caught his heavy nuts and held them to her belly and love mound while he snorted and grunted, pounding cock into her cunt nearly a foot at a time.
It seemed her entire being was coming unglued and she wanted to beg him to sock his cock in deep and soak it in her spasming pussy, but it was too, too, too delectably heavenly, the way he was slam-banging his cock into her body.
"Love-love-love it," she gasped, pushing her ass end back as, he hunched cock into her. "Oooohhhh, yesssss, fuck your nice, long, skinny cock in my pussy."
Trina was so enthralled with her exploding passions, she hardly noticed he had extracted his prick from her steaming twat. But in the next instant she was aware of it when he lodged the sharp point again and drilled it to the balls in her burning ass-hole.
Her back bowed upward, then caved in as she felt herself gored in the back hole, frantic that he had torn her guts. But the pain of surprise vanished quickly and her innards seethed with heat and passion.
She screamed shrilly, hand gripped his bag of nuts hard.
"Aaaaahhh, my lovely piece of ass, as God's children, we must have pain in our lives and learn to accept it and endure it," he said with pompous reverence.
But Trina wasn't protesting from pain. The steady plying of his slender prick in and out of her rectal canal was setting wild fires of erotic pleasure raging through her guts, lapping through her now vacant tunny.
She humped her ass back at him and waggled it from side to side to increase the friction of his plunging torch on the smooth walls of her ass-hole.
She wanted to yell at him that it didn't hurt, that she loved having his long cock cornholing her, that she really, truly loved fucking in the ass-hole. But she couldn't find coherent words to beg him to fuck her butt faster, but she communicated her desire to him by foisting her defenseless, conquered bare bottom back at him as he came up on tiptoes and slammed it to her with ruthless poundings.
"Fuuuuuuccckkkk my sweet ass-hole," she finally screamed as violent orgasm thundered through her.
Even as he began ejaculating, shooting steaming streams of jizz into her bowels, he kept on fucking it to her tight butt hole.
Trina screamed and squalled and sobbed as she shook her ass, her butt gobbling his spewing prick. His thick, hot cum was like pouring boiling oil on raging flames. She got both hands on his bag of balls and held his cock in her blasting ass.
Even when his stream of passion ebbed and finally stopped, the Reverend Bruce continued cornholing her lovely ass-hole, snorting and groaning. Trina let a satisfied smile twitch at her lips as she concentrated on contracting her anal muscles, milking lovingly along the length of his punching prick.
"You do it wonderfully," she breathed, fingers toodling on his heavy gonads, wondering whether it was possible to cram them into her throbbing cunt.
"Best ass-hole fuckin' I've had since I screwed the organ player at our church," the Reverend Bruce said a trifle irreverently as his hands squeezed her narrow waist and he gave her a couple or three cock-hunches for good measure.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jeanette stood on the front steps and watched Charlie rattle down. the gravel street on his way to the liquor store. She watched Sylvia leave her house, wave at Charlie and yell something about Tom wanted him to hurry with his part of the case.
Sylvia angled across the street and called to Jeanette, "I'm going to see if Trin' is going to use those food and detergent coupons printed in the Boise paper this morning. See you later."
Jeanette frowned at the dark house across the street. "Is she home? I don't see any lights, Syl."
With a shiver, she stepped back out of the misty fog and went to clear the table and stack the supper dishes in the sink.
Through the kitchen window, she saw Pearl, hunkered into a heavy coat picking her way across the rough backyards. "I got heating problems," Pearl said, knocking and slipping in.
"Isn't Ed home?" Jeanette murmured, pouring two cups of coffee and joining the pouting little blonde at the kitchen table. "Can't he fix it?"
"That turd," Pearl breathed with a tone of contempt. "He said call an electrician like Charlie. He said he didn't have time, had to make three night service calls way over by Notus. He said if Charlie can't or won't, it would just have to wait 'til he got back. Maybe around midnight."
"Charlie went to the liquor store to pick up a case of booze that he will split with, the Walthams," Jeanette offered. "Probably be back in half an hour-if he only went down here. If he doesn't get lost in four miles."
She peered thoughtfully at Pearl who had taken off the heavy coat and hung it over the back of the chair. She had changed into a loose house dress, but the impudent jut and tilt of her breasts were not concealed.
"Maybe tonight is your chance," she said softly, eyes on the tempting rise and fall of the twin cones as Pearl breathed.
"My chance to freeze to death," Pearl said waspishly.
"No, ninny. Maybe your chance to get hot-and get something really hot," Jeanette grinned. "Your old man is going to be gone for quite awhile and mine is going to be available. Unless you've changed your mind or never was serious about-you know, what we were talking about. Swapping around among our hubbies."
"I was, too, serious," Pearl snapped. "But right now, I'm more interested in keeping Pearl warm all over, not just her pecker-needy tail. My house is cold, damn it, Jean, and I want some heat in there before I get this little body naked and take a hot poker in-my furnace."
"Just get him over there and I bet he can fix it in a second. Probably a fuse or some such," Jeanette remonstrated, "then mangle his sausage for him. Then I won't feel guilty about squeezing the cream out of Ed's pussy-churner."
"I can't believe you'd feel guilty," Pearl said archly.
Both heads turned at the knock on the front door.
"Cooooommmmeeeee," Jeanette called. "Can't be old Charlie," she said in a low voice.
Sylvia shut the door, marched into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. "Something happened-weird-over at the Stein's this afternoon," she volunteered, eyes glinting, as she sat down.
"The front door was ajar and I knocked and no one answered and I just slipped inside and spied through the house as if I were trying to catch Tom shacking with her. You know what? I found her on the bed."
"Sick?" Jeanette and Pearl chimed together, concerned.
"Not if you call having been diddled sick," Sylvia winked. "I said I found her on the bed. Cross-wise. Knees drawn up to her chin and her very naked and pretty ass end in the ideal position."
"Naked?" Pearl scowled.
"Not a stitch. Her pussy was gaping and runny with white cum and her ass-hole was red as her hair. Redder," Sylvia giggled. "She had gotten herself roundly and soundly fucked and corn-holed."
"Raped?" Jeanette rasped.
"Not raped," Sylvia shook her wavy brown hair, grinning. "The preacher."
"Her husband came home and banged her?" Pearl snorted.
"Not that preacher," Sylvia elaborated, "the one from that church in town. The walking cadaver preacher with the little hatchet-face for a wife. That's the preacher what did give our little Trina a diligent screwing in front and back."
"That poor kid," Jeanette breathed.
"Ooooohhhh-hoooooo, wait a second," Pearl refuted. "I don't think you should feel sorry for Trin'. How about me? Trin' got some badly needed diddlin' and I ain't had some for quite awhile."
"You can get Charlie later this evening," Jeanette nodded. "How do you know that old buzzard got to her?"
"Trina told me," Sylvia smirked. "And she said something about making it with the paperboy earlier this afternoon while I was getting a nightie on her and putting her to bed. She's done more swinging in one afternoon than I ever did in my whole life."
Sylvia finished her coffee and stood. "I got to get back and help Tom open a bottle when Charlie gets back from town. If I don't get half-looped, our damned TV isn't in focus."
"Ed fixed your TV," Pearl frowned.
"The poop he did," Sylvia said a trifle defiantly. "He said he put in a new power tube, but it still isn't sharp and it flickers from bright to a milky lightness and the sound goes up and then fades away. Ed's the shits."
"Tell him about it," Pearl called. "Make him fix it-and you."
"Here comes Charlie," Sylvia called from outside. "And Tom would kill me-or at least beat my tender little ass if I let someone else chew off a piece of it."
"He doesn't have to know," Pearl frowned.
"I'm gonna get that jealous bastard," Jeanette twinkled as Charlie clomped into the house with a liquor case. To her husband, Jeanette said, "Honey, you can have one drink with us, then you gotta saunter over to the Chaveau house and do something about Pearl's heat."
She placed an impish stress on the last two words, winking at Pearl who blushed slightly. "Did your hot little furnace go out, Kid?" Charlie grinned lewdly.
"We have electric heat, the same as all of us in this dumpy project," Pearl snapped, "and the furnace you're talking about has a fire in it-even though it's banked at the moment."
A few minutes later, Charlie said, "I'll just take this bottle along for a little nip while I try to find a match for Pearl's heat," he winked at Jeanette who stuck her tongue out at him.
"I'm going to bed," she said firmly. "I'm going to ride down to town with you when you go to work," she called after them.
* * *
While Charlie stopped in the utility room with his tools and supply of fuses and circuit breakers, Pearl sauntered on through the kitchen, setting the open bottle of Old Crow on the serving bar.
"I'Il fix a couple of drinks in a minute," she called, continuing down the hallway to her left. She hesitated in the dark bedroom, heart hammering. Then, decided, she hoisted her dress, holding it high around her body with her elbows, and took off her panties.
I'll either make a brazen fool of myself, or get myself screwed by my best friend's hubby, she
thought to herself and left the bedroom.
"Couple of 60 amp fuses weak," Charlie called. "You didn't have anything but lukewarm water, either. Won't take a minute 'til you have heat."
Pearl sloshed whiskey into two water glasses, added ice and water. It won't take that long to get heat. She smiled nervously. My heat started building up as soon as I uncovered my fanny and my pussy.
She carried the two drinks into the living room, left one on the side table next to Ed's easy chair and perched on the sofa. Deliberately, yet trying to seem casual, she set her right foot on the dayeno, knee up. She held the hem of her dress at the knee, creating a tent of the tail.
A lame blind man could see it all, she thought, almost moved to giggling with expectancy and witchiness. "Your drink is in here," she called, hearing him slam his tool box shut.
"That takes care of it," Charlie nodded, sighting his drink and dropping into the chair. He nearly spilled the drink as he swung his gaze to Pearl. She continued her posture of nonchalance, looking back and forth around the room. "I can feel the heat already," she said conversationally. And I can really feel it in my box coming off your bulging eyes.
Imperceptibly, Pearl arched her back, thrusting her opulent breasts forward against the bodice of the dress. At the same time, she swung her left leg out slightly, increasing the scope of his view.
She changed the drink to her right hand, releasing the hem of her dress which slowly skidded down her doubled leg, settling in folds at her waist. Covertly, she studied his face, jaw slack, eyes unwavering on her crotch adorned with a thick mesh of spun gold hair.
Effecting a tone of indifference, she said softly, "If we do, noooooboooody must know. Absolutely no one. If Ed should ever find out we did it, he'd most likely kill us both. And I don't think Jean better know either."
"Jesus Christ!" Charlie blurted, running a nervous hand over his thinning sandy hair. "Of all people, she shouldn't know nothin'. "
Disappointment flashed drearily across his face as Pearl suddenly sprang to her feet, letting the dress fall to shut off his gawking, and took his empty glass. "Let's have another drink"
As she mixed drinks, she called, tormenting him, "How long will the job last over by Boise?" She glanced around the partition separating the kitchen from the living room, grinned impishly as he stroked fingers along the long, thick welt of agony down his left pants leg.
"The job?" Charlie muttered as if in a daze. "Ten or fifteen minutes."
As she handed him his drink, she frowned, if we do it, it better last more than ten or fifteen minutes.
She smiled secretively as she perched on the sofa, legs drawn up under her, facing .him demurely with the dress modestly covering her lap and knees. She struggled to suppress amused, delighted laughter as a haggard look of disappointment again shadowed his angular face.
His eyes were unwavering on the angle of her body and thighs. Pearl leaned back and deliberately worked her dress back. Her green eyes were intent on his flickering gaze as she exposed more and more of her legs, finally bunching the dress up around her waist.
"If we make it, I repeat nobody is to ever, ever, ever know," she said sharply, yet keeping her voice low, confidential purring.
Charlie shook his head dumbly, jaw hanging slack, eyes piercing, a film of sweat on his high brow. "Nobody," he echoed, tone as flat as a zombie.
"Then," she said sharply, crisply, breaking his daze, "get your clothes off and let's fuck!"
Charlie recoiled as if she had slapped him. His eyelids batted rapidly and fingers gripped his long ridge of flesh. His eyes never left her face as she came over, set his glass on the little table and started unbuttoning his shirt. "Well, help," she whispered harshly, "start getting your pants and boots off."
She waited until his boots were off, then knelt and grabbed his stiffening cock before he even had his pants off over his stockinged feet. "Myyyyyy God," Charlie groaned as she flogged his meat, jacking him off furiously.
"Ya like it?" she taunted him, unbuttoning her dress, slip and bra off. Then she scooted be-and red. "I do! I like jacking off a handsome cock, Charlie," she chortled triumphantly.
She dropped his prick just long enough to get her dress, slip and bra. off. Then she scooted between his parted knees and quickly sucked the head of his cock into her mouth, bobbed her face. on it a few times. "And I like sucking a big, gorgeous cock, too, Charlie."
Pearl squirmed her head back and forth, twisting her hot, wet mouth on the full-blown knob as she curled her tongue behind the thick ridge of the head. "Yuuuummmmm-I love sucking cock. But you gotta promise to fuck my pussy good or I'll quit giving you a blow-job right now."
"Myyyyyy God, don't stop," Charlie croaked as she let his spit-slicked cock fall from her pouting lips. As she licked her lips, a hand fondling up and down the huge tusk of sexiness, she deftly plucked pins from her hair and let the pale, golden crown tumble apart, cascading over her bare shoulders.
Slowly, she ceased to look on Charlie as someone she knew, as a neighbor, as the husband of her best friend. "Nice cock, big prick, delicious fuck-meat," she said, her tone raspy, almost a growl of greed. She jacked him off industriously with both hands as she bent her face into his hairy crotch and licked the massive knob as if she were laving a dip of strawberry ice cream.
A humming and crooning seeped from her as she sucked, "UuuuuUUUuummm-YUUTJmmm," on the throbbing head.
"Jesussssss Christ, suck meeee," Charlie yelled hoarsely, his legs tensing, ass bucking his monstrous rod into her gulping mouth.
"Ummmmm-Yyyyaaauumnun," Pearl glommed her mouth full down on his stiff male organ, trying to drive it down her quivering throat. Her body began to weave and undulate her pretty, curvy ass jouncing and rotating.
"Fabulously tasty cock," she cooed, reluctantly lifting her mouth from his pulsing prick. She held it in both hands, as if it were a bat, the lower rim of her left fist against the knob. "Gotta have me a cunt full of this wonderful, huge fuck-monster," she groaned, crawling into the chair with him, her knees at his hips, the shanks of her legs along his thighs.
"Got me a red-hot pussy for this big wand," she purred, looking under her crotch to guide the head of his cock into her passion-gorged slot. When she got the massive knob on her entry, she curled an arm around Charlie's neck. "Honey, you hold it on target for me-for us."
As soon as she was satisfied he had a firm grasp on his root at the base with both hands, she got her feet up on the flat arms of the easy chair, keeping her furrow engaged with his spear.
"Aaaaaahhhheeeee," she squalled, lowering her almost obscenely sagging bottom until her quivering vagina accepted just the knob of his rigid rod. "Get your hand away," she gasped. "Right now, get your hands away from your fuckin' prick. I got 'im in my pussy. Move your hands!"
As soon as his hands were gone and she had control of his cock with her cunt, she pushed a tittie into his mouth, started sliding her feet outward. "Juuuuuust you wait," she panted, eyes streaming tears of passion and sex-hunger. "Hey, watch your cock and my pussy, Charlie!" she yelped as her feet slipped over the edge of the arms of the chairs.
Her bottom came crashing down into his lip. His long, skewering prick went stabbing up into her body, splitting her cuntal lips and ripping into her snatch. "Aaaaarrrggghhh," Pearl screamed shrilly, tone of anguish turning quickly to one of sexual enchantment. "I got your monster-prick socked all the way up my twat," she howled with erotic glee, trying to wriggle her bottom to perform coital acrobatics on his long super bar.
"But, I can't fuck my cunt on your cock in this position," Pearl yelled, her arms flailing the air in frustration and helplessness. "Do something, you big fucker; do something and make your nice, big cock go fuck-boom-bang-wham in my hot juicy pussy."
Every time she wiggled her bottom, the coarse hair on his thighs tickled the milky half-moons with enthralling grittiness. "Pick me up and bounce me on your prick," Pearl howled with licentious urgency. "I wanta pop my cunt-nuts on your big twat-banger. Pick me up and jounce me; throw me down on the floor or take me in the bedroom. Anything-just so you fuck the cock to me!"
She hugged his neck as he looped his arms behind her, palmed her ass cheeks, squeezed. Pearl clung to him as he leaned forward. She murmured purring sounds and ground her hot, tender tittles against his hairy chest as he lifted her and slammed her cunt down on his prodigious cock.
She hooked her ankles over his buttocks as he crawled out on the living room rug with her naked body. She held him tightly, her pussy feeling hot and creaming as he scooted with her, then laid her on the floor. She glanced past him and saw that he moved back so he had his up-drawn feet braced against a wall for tremendous leverage.
When he pushed her legs far back, she obediently grasped her feet with her hands and spanned her legs as far apart as she could reach, lifting her ass high, opening her saddle so he could piston all the way to his nuts and her belly button with his bludgeoning prick.
As he slipped his cock out of her cunt, she could actually see the thick outer lips flanging around his immense shaft, like a rubber gasket. With golden hair all wet and matted with passion moisture.
Her body began trembling as he slowly knifed his harpoon of sex back into her fuck-carnivore. "Goin' to chew your big prick to ribbons with my pussy," Pearl grinned, licking sweat from her upper lip. She winced as the great cock-head skidded against her tortured cervix and skated toward her womb.
Pearl let her head drift back to the floor with satisfaction as Charlie got his hands under her, holding the taut cheeks of her butt.
"Slock-slock; slosh-slosh squish-squosh," his prick worked in and out of her tight, wet pussy.
"You do it good," she breathed, feeling faint. "Oooohhhh, you do fuck a girl goooooood. Keep on pouring the prick into me. Really haul off and slam cock all the way into my ... AAAIIIIEEE, Jesus Christ, I'm cummin'-hot cunt."
Charlie began snorting and grunting as he flagged his ass, slamming and driving and grinding his long, massive cock into her straining pussy. Pearl drowned out his deep, guttural growls of fuck-madness.
She began undulating her body, using her legs as if they were oars, letting them fall back, then hauling them forward, feet-with toes curled-up even with her ears. The action caused her contorted ass to bob up and down as she took his cock deep, sighed when he withdrew it, and held her breath as he pounded it back in.
Their combined juices escaped around his plunging cork each time he drew out and dribbled into the flattened cleft of her butt and acted like burning fuel on her bulging anus. "Get a finger or a thumb or something big in my ass-hole," she yelled into his face.
Obediently, he dug his hands farther under her bouncing butt and stabbed his two big fingers to the fist-knuckle into her rectum. "Ooooohhhhh, Aaaaiiiieeee, this is what I call real good fucking," Pearl cried, tears blinding her as she squiggled her ass muscles on the added impalement and got all her sphincters working and churning around his relentlessly drilling, boring, auguring cock.
"I've come a gob of orgasm already, but just keep on fucking cock in me and I'll bang-bang my cookies again," she sobbed, her cuntal passage contracting wildly around his slamming prick.
Her eyes widened, but she stared unseeing at the ceiling, focusing all her senses on the deep throbs beginning in his hard, thudding prick. "You have such a nice, big cock," Pearl wept, squeezing her coital muscles around his-punching Cock, reveling in the spindling action deep in her twat. "I had almost forgotten how wonderful it is, being fucked, having a fabulously huge cock in my fun-hole."
Mentally and physically, she prepared herself for the ultimate of sensations as his thrusts quickened. His shaft swelled with promise as a prelude to a tumultuous finish. "When you jizz me..., " she started to say.
But Charlie growled deep in his throat, snorted and slammed his cock in hard, his balls plopping against her unprotected fanny, his groin grating against her Venus mound.
She squeezed her tunnel around his expanding organ then. "Aaaaaaggggghhhhh," she squalled when the first squirt of jizz scalded her innards. Each time he spewed cum in her, she rocked her tunny up onto his buried cock. Each hosing of cock-juice in her aching pussy hurled her higher in an ecstatic spiral of elation.
She went off again as he slipped his fingers from her erotically exploding ass-hole. "I wish-you could keep your magnificent cock plugging my cunt all night," she whispered, face wan as she formed a kiss with her lips. "But Ed will be-he'll come home pretty soon," she whispered.
"While you're still squirting hot, thick jizz in my twat, give me a few goodnight, love pumps of prick and we better get dressed, Honey."
CHAPTER EIGHT
For a full minute, Sylvia sat on the edge of the bed, huddled in the darkness, groggy and ill-humored. Her first thought was that Tom had locked himself out and was delighting in leaning on the doorbell to irritate her.
Unsteadily, Sylvia stood, petulantly adjusting the flimsy top of the baby doll pajamas, twisting the loose-fitting bottom about, pulling the cling of the crotch from her crack and easing the pinch of it from her curving lips.
Without turning on any lights, she groped through the house to the entry onto the carport. The only light in the house was the little red bulb in the coffee maker Tom had carried to the dinette table.
She flung back the door and squinted sleepily into the moist, foggy air. She shivered slightly as the chill, early morning air wafted against her bare legs, sifted through the satiny thinness of her pj's.
"Well, you ineffective horse," she said sulkily, "what are you standing out there for?" Then she inhaled sharply, recognizing Ed Chaveau. Instinctively, she folded slender arms across the full breasts that tented firmly against the gauzy bodice of the pajama blouse.
"Pearl said you were complaining I didn't fix your TV," Ed said tersely. "I thought I would look into it before I went down and opened the shop."
Numbly, Sylvia stared at him, mind slowly coming alive. Look into my TV set, her mind fumbled with the thought. Well, your eyes are looking into me right now. "I wonder if you can fix anything," she grumbled, easing aside. "Are you coming in, Ed?" she frowned. "You know where it is-and it certainly hasn't been moved from the living room to the carport."
She closed the door after him, hesitating thoughtfully as he strode into the living room and set his box of tools and tubes on the floor next to the TV. "Want a cup of coffee?" She didn't wait for an answer, but got two cups from the cabinet, sloshed bourbon into them both and filled them with steaming coffee.
She pulled an ottoman into position in front of the TV and slumped onto it. Her brow wrinkled as he took the cup and stared at her filmily clad body. "Don't stand there and stare at me stupidly just because I'm staring at you stupidly," she muttered with a trace of exasperation. "But Tom kept me awake half the night trying to, but not being able to make it. He drank too much."
"Couldn't get it up, huh?" Ed grinned, frowning and blinking as he sipped the liquor-dosed coffee.
"Just couldn't get a hard-on," Sylvia nodded, covertly glancing at his crotch. "All night, he kept trying to cram his rubber hose in me. The damned souse-louse."
"You were hot to trot, huh, Syl?"
She squirmed on the ottoman, shuffling her bottom to pull the crotch of her pj's into her pussy smile. She leaned forward, resting knees on elbows, letting the bodice of the blouse sag away from her body, knowing the sandy-haired man could get a full glimpse of the creamy crowns of her boobies.
"Not particularly," she pouted, "but it tees me off when the bastard gets me worked up and can't cum through with his promises. You ever let Pearl down that way, Ed? Get her hot and worked up and ready for some serious punching, then let her down?"
Sylvia smiled inwardly, fully awake now, hot tingles beginning deep between her legs. But she maintained a steeply mien while her eyes darted from drooping eyelids to the distinct puffing and twitching in his sex basket.
"I ain't heard her complain," Ed grinned, a hand stroking along the thick welt down his left pants leg.
"Well, I have, Sylvia thought. "Crap," she breathed disdainfully, "you men are most all alike. Boastful, but inept."
"Says who?" Ed scowled, shifting his weight, arching his well-stuffed crotch at her.
"You think you're God's gift, too, huh?" she sniffed, crossing her legs, leaning away to let the filmy material mold over the flushed jut of her tithes.
"Want proof, Sylvia?" Ed mattered, voice choked.
"And you'd brag about it!" Sylvia shook her head.
"Oh, hell, not me, Syl," Ed disputed, nervous, anticipatory fingers closing convulsively on the lengthening ridge of sex-meat.
"Poo," Sylvia frowned, not looking at him as she sipped her coffee. "You probably couldn't wait to get downtown and cackle like a stupid rooster to everyone you meet how you laid Sylvia Waltham, boasting how you made me yelp and beg for it, bragging how you stretched me all out of shape with your big male organ."
"I wouldn't never tell a soul," Ed whispered, voice coming in a rough gasp.
"If we did and you ever did-tell anyone," Sylvia said warily, "I'd find a way to cut your heart out-but not before I lopped off the head of your pecker and cut out your nuts."
"Jesus," Ed grunted, watching her set the empty cup on the floor beside the ottoman, lean back to arch her breasts up and out. She uncrossed her legs and scooted her bottom forward, binding the bottom of her pj's so her vulva was starkly accented.
"You probably haven't got enough to do a girl any real good," she said huffily.
"I got plenty," Ed growled.
"So, prove it," she challenged, sitting forward. "If I take you on, I want to see I'm getting enough to risk your blabbing about screwing me. Prove it, Mr. Chaveau. Come on over here and let's have a look."
A tremble of excitement shivered through her as he moved in front of her. Her fingers twitched as she reached to find the metal zipper tab. The fly parted from the internal pressure of his swollen genitals. She held her breath as she undid his belt and loosened the waistband of his pants. She hooked fingers in the front pockets and pulled them to his ankles.
"Hah, I don't see so much so far," she taunted him, her fingers unsnapping the three snaps of his boxer shorts, one at a time. "I don't think you got anything to brag about," she breathed, her eyes exploring the thick tufts of pubic hair puffing through the slot in his shorts. "If you' had a lot, the head of it would stick out your pants leg."
"I bet it will fill your haughty little fun box to overflowing," he muttered defensively, fists clenched at his sides.
"Hummmmm, we'll see," Sylvia muttered, flashing his shorts down his legs, letting his unburdened peter swing out and up. She glanced fleetingly at his tense face, gleaming eyes, then cocked her head to study the steadily hardening cock.
"So you got a piece of fuck-twang," she said aloofly, slapping the back of her fingers against his tuck of flesh. "I bet you go off like a jack rabbit and a gal doesn't have a chance to get any more than warmed up. A real hot pussy would melt your hunk down to a blot of grease in about two hunches."
"Bullshit!" Ed growled. "I can make your prick-teasing pussy smoke."
Impulses of lust began twitching along the shaft of his cock and. Sylvia's cunt grew hot and juicy in wanton anticipation. She took just the rubbery head between thumb and forefinger, waggled his stump back and forth, watching his heavy balls climb up in his scrotum, roll back.
Sylvia squirmed her hot bottom on the ottoman, reached to cup Ed's handful of goodies. "Uuummhmmmmmm," she cooed raggedly, tensing her thighs together against the urgent boiling of her needy pussy.
"Jesus Christ, Syl," Ed breathed as if in agony as she let her hand slide over the smooth glans and down the hefty barrel of his rigid cock. His ass hunched and the muscles ridged in his belly as she jacked him off slowly, yet vigorously, milking a jewel of clear oil from the red slit in the tip of his hard dick.
"You got a real hot, hard cock," Sylvia murmured, eyes intent on her hands as they squeezed and lofted his nuts, stroked the length of his meaty post.
"Let's get it in your cooker," Ed growled, stripping off his coat and shirt. "Goddamn, you're gonna make me ,shoot if you keep jacking me off."
She tried to avoid his hands, but he caught her head and pulled her face toward him. She slanted the head of his hot, aromatic cock away, but he pulled her forehead against it.
"I don't want to blow-job you," she protested as he tried to maneuver the knob of his prick to her mouth. "You men always want what you want," she snapped, squeezing fingers into his cock and balls until he groaned. "What makes you think it's a woman's privilege, sucking your prick?"
"Oooooooohhhhhhh, Jesus, Syl," Ed whined. "Pleeeeeaaaasssseee?"
She managed to move her head back and stared at the seeping slit in the end. She inhaled deeply, smelling the warm, musky flavor of his massive organ. Still holding onto his long, hot wand, she got onto the ottoman in a prayer position. The muscles in her tunny were so taut, pains flickered through her loins. She glanced only fleetingly at his lean, tense face and licked the tip of her tongue over the swollen glans.
"Yeeeeesssss! Pleeeeaaasssseeee," Ed groaned, nearly toppling over her as she absorbed the full knob with her lips, digging the tip of her tongue into the dripping slit.
"Uuuuummmmm," she sucked noisily, the head of his cock lodged in a cheek. "I can't mouth-fuck all your cock," she mumbled, going down on him as far as she could, the thick, blunt knob prodding into her throat. "Don't cum," she warned, "I want you to blast my pussy with jizz. If you shoot off in my mouth and don't fuck me-you'll never have me again."
His eyes were glazed as she slowly fucked her mouth over and along the passion-bloated length of his long prick. She dropped the hand from his balls and began fumbling to push down the bottom of her baby dolls, mumbling sulkily until she got the flimsy garment off over the roundness of her bottom end. She straightened up and ushered the bottom down her sleek thighs to the bend of her knees.
Keeping his hot, juicy prick lodged in her mouth, she squirmed to get the pj bottom down her calves and off over her feet. Her crotch was wet and sticky. Sylvia delicately played fingers over the thick, lust-filled welts of her outer cunt lips that were glazed with her passion flow. The trench gaped wide, ready for him, ready for his massive cock to plow into her body. She let the knob of his cock flop from her lips and she tongued off his sticky honey and her spit. "Now!" she panted, toppling over on her back on the big, square ottoman.
She spanned her knees wide apart, kicked her feet high in the air. "Come on," she gasped as he stared with bulging eyes at her snatch. She reached for him as he stumbled toward her. "Get it in me, Ed," she demanded, a hand closing on the knob of his cock and pulling it into her Veed thighs, toward her throbbing, seething gash and the waiting tunnel that angled far into her body. "Give me all your nice cock at once," she sighed, words slurred with passion and lust. "Huuuurrry up," she whimpered, able to swab the fat point up and down her thick-lipped gash. "Oooohhhh, yes," she agreed as his big hands delved up under the top of her pajamas and mauled her tingling tits.
As she planted the' head of his cock at the entry to her stormy cunt, her body began writhing and coiling. "Come on," she panted, working the top of her pj's up over her tits so she could watch his hands mash and squeeze the proud cones.
His feet slipped a little bit and the head and a couple of inches of his long prick speared into her cove. "Aaaaahhhh," she moaned with passionate satisfaction. "Shove it all in me. Ram and plunge all your cock up my twat at once," she pleaded, shaking and rotating her exposed ass.
She could sense his strength gathering. She kept her eyes wide open, concentrated on making her pussy muscles squeeze and rub the slick, scalding knob of his cock.
"Aaaaarrrrgggghhhh," she squalled, her middle buckling as he stabbed in her pussy, his heavy balls slapping against her bulging butt hole. "Great God," she exhaled raggedly, "You really sank your cock in my pussy."
Sylvia thought she could feel the resilient, spongy walls of her snatch molding around his prick, hugging the ridges of blood veins and shaping around the massive knob with its immense ridge that held the foreskin back in a large roll.
When he hunched up over her, he rolled her bottom high and doubled her body. She nodded as he scooped her legs up over his shoulders, seized her flanks and hauled his cock out of her cunt in a slow, tantalizing glide. She could see the dark, pulsating shaft sticking out of-or into-her hot cunt.
Wham !
"Aaaaiiieeee I" Sylvia shrieked as Ed slammed his prick back into her brimming sex-well. "God, that's good. Do it again. And again. And aaagain ! Fuck your nice, big prick to me, Ed!"
Her voice wavered and quavered as her greedy snatch accepted and gobbled at his plunging, rapacious prick. "Fuck the prick to me!" she screamed, her insides convulsing and spasming with each long thrust of hard cock into her snatch.
Her bowels began to growl and burn as his tempo hastened and his monstrous cock began to fly in and out of her steaming fuck-hole. He bounced it to her hard, his body smacking hers,, driving her across the ottoman until her head hung off the side away from his diligent, obsessed work. "Keep on fucking," she admonished, "just don't push me off and lose my pussy with your delectable cock."
His prick slam-banged into her tight, juicy snatch and she screamed for more. "Faster ! Fuck me faster!"
He's really getting with it now, she thought dreamily, listening to the soft, steady drumbeat of his long stick prying and levering and hammering into her body.
"Shake your tail, Baby," Ed gasped, sweat dripping from the end of his nose and chin to splatter saltily into her face and onto her heaving boobies.
"Aaaaawwiiiieeee-yeeeaaahhh," Sylvia agreed, tensing muscles along her legs, her heels denting his shoulders as she tossed her ass upward to meet his manful thrusts, "Let me get my hands down there," she panted, hands exploring between their lustful, vibrant bodies. She combed fingers through her sweaty pubic bush and flattened her hands against her inner thighs.
"Aaaaayyyyy," she marveled, using her fore-fingers and thumbs to circle his prick as he drilled and reamed her snatch. She tightened her thumbs and fingers, forcing her thick, tingling cuntal lips snugly against his pumping, plunging cock. "Shove it in deep and swiggle it around," Sylvia begged, free fingers tickling his big, lolling balls as they rolled against her anus.
Her pussy was overflowing with their sex juices and his cock made wet, squishy sounds as he pulled it out of her twat and burrowed it back in. Sylvia had a sensation he was making her seething gash longer and wider and the hole up between her heisted legs was becoming bigger and bigger and deeper and deeper with each inward hump of his prick.
Absently, she wondered whether his cock was thick enough to thoroughly cork her cunt or whether his jizz would come sloshing out of her when he shot off his cum. Her insides felt as if they were ballooning when he pumped his prick into her pussy and collapsed when he pulled it out. Her cuntal walls hugged his long, rigid shaft on each penetration and a storm began to rage out of control throughout her channel.
She wanted to talk to him, tell him how wonderful his cock felt gliding smoothly, hotly, snugly in and out of her famished snatch. But each time she opened her mouth to speak, he made a heavy lunge with his hips, driving his cock into her feverish depths. She could feel the head very distinctly, the fat coronal flange skidding and scraping all along her tight passage.
Her senses reeled and all her feelings were focused on the exquisite torture being inflicted on the hole between her Veed thighs. "Give it to me fast," Sylvia whined, at last taking her hands from between their bodies, from around his pistoning prick. She gripped the taut, numb cheeks of her ass, found her anal dimple and cruelly dug two fingers into her red hot rectum to heighten the thunder-pleasure roaring and raging in her guts and cunt.
It seemed a flood broke inside her as she got her gun and popped her nuts. The scream seemed unreal in the dark room and Sylvia made her ass buck and bound. "Fuck me and cum in me," she whimpered desperately, shaking her ass wildly as he complied, hammering his cock to her cunt faster and faster.
His cannon began unloading in her cunt-first the right ball, then the left, she thought hazily. "Give me both barrels of your fabulous cock. Cum in my cunt and keep fucking."
CHAPTER NINE
Jeanette stood on the fog-shrouded corner and watched the taillights of Charlie's pickup absorbed by the swirling cloud of mist. She smiled faintly, wondering how everything had gone the night before with Pearl. He hadn't said anything, but had seemed immersed in thought. He had seemed distracted even when he asked her how she would get back home; he didn't even seem to hear when she told him she would manage; might even have Tom take her home-or Ed. But she had walked the four miles before, too.
Two blocks away, she could make out the faint outline of Tom's rig and the garage lights created misty little halos in the fog. She passed by the cafe and strolled toward the bus depot. She nodded to the manager opening the supermarket and a little farther on spoke to the woman who was unlocking the drugstore.
In the bus depot, she went to the ladies' restroom, stepped into one of the stalls and deftly removed her panties. "Won't need these when I get to Tom," she whispered, stuffing them into the bottom of her purse. She would have left them off, but Charlie had watched her dress and might have asked questions if he'd noticed she was going to town bare-ass. At least, he would have been suspicious.
Making certain her dress hung without fault, she left the restroom, sauntered through the empty lobby and turned up the street. Just the knowledge of being bare underneath sent ripples of sensual excitement crackling along her nerves and quickened her pulse beat.
She waited for several minutes for Tom to pump some gas and re-enter the garage. Then she slipped along the front of the garage. The Dr. Pepper clock read 7:20 and she was sure no one else was in the building.
A bank of lights was on above a car with its hood up and a trouble light burned underneath. .Jeanette moved silently into the darkened garage, stifling a nervous giggle when she saw Tom's feet and lower legs extending from under the vehicle.
She heard him mutter something with a dash of profanity and moved close. "Tom, it's me-Jeanette," she said lightly. "I came into town to do a little shopping. If you go home for lunch, could I ride with you?"
"Huh!" he snorted, tone startled for a moment. "Jeanette? Ohhhh, sure, Jean. I hadn't figured that out, but I can go home for chow-if my damned helper shows up. Let's see, this is Tuesday. He's probably sobered up by now. Yeah, I'll take you home."
He was quiet for a minute. "Jean, do you know what a nine-sixteenths socket looks like? I picked up the wrong one."
"I know what it is," she replied. "Where do I find it?"
"In that top tray of that tool box on casters in front of this car," Tom said.
Jeanette stepped over his legs, found the socket and returned to squat next to his right knee. She reached under the car. "Here, Tom."
She smiled smugly as his hand fumbled for hers, then stopped with their fingers touching. Have a good look, Tom! she wanted to goad him, spreading her knees even wider so the glare of the trouble light fully illuminated the inner planes of her thighs and the kinky bush that adorned her tingling cuntal furrow.
His hand moved away with the tool and she let her hand go limp-falling lightly on his crotch. He had moved and she knew he was still staring at her completely exposed crotch.
"Is that the right one?" she asked, struggling to keep the mockery from her voice.
"Uhhhh-uh-huh," he mumbled, toes pointing at the ceiling as she let her hand trail down his left leg.
Most men keep their pleasure-post in this one, she mused, grinning as her fingers traced the long, thick welt of his penis. She maintained contact just long enough to feel a twitching in the long organ. Casually, she stool and stepped across his stiff legs and circled the car to stand on the other side. "What time will you be going home?" she asked nonchalantly.
"About noon," his voice came to her muffled and tight.
"I didn't hear you," she fibbed, listening to him shift his weight on the creeper. She glanced down as his hands gripped the edge of the car. As he pulled himself out, she spread her feet wide and his head emerged between them. He was silent-and tense, staring up her dress tail.
"About noon," he said chokingly.
Just as if she didn't know he was there, Jeanette bent her knees and squatted, bringing her bottom down within inches of his face. "You said about noon?"
"Yes," he muttered and she could feel his hot breath on her exposed pussy. He exhaled hard enough it tickled the tendrils of black mane that grew profusely through her legs.
She couldn't see his face, but his fingers gripped the edge of the car so hard they were abnormally white. "That's gooodddd," she breathed, letting her rump settle a little lower.
Then a little more and she could feel the tip of his nose sniffing at her black moss. Jeanette wriggled her bottom and brought her hot cunny against his face.
"Ooooohhhh-eeeeeek," she squealed, feigning surprise. But she didn't bounce away from the contact. In fact, she squirmed her fanny gently so his nose and lips nudged into her hot, moist groove.
"Yiiiiikkkkkeeeessss," she yipped as his hands left the car and palmed the stretched buns of her fanny. She knew she was very open by the way his tongue stroked up and down her burning rut, the tip dabbling at her fluttery hole.
Jeanette leaned her forehead against the door of the care to steady herself as her legs went weak and wobbly as the man with gray-streaked wavy hair dipped his tongue into her pussy.
Sweet thunder thumped through her as Tom licked out her hot, streaming trench and the tip of his tongue squiggled deep into her cuntal passage. "Jesus," she gasped, rubbing her snatch on his face, feeling dizzy when the end of his nose rubbed across her itching anus.
"I never thought-or dreamed, Jean," Tom mumbled, his lips paying homage to the thick outer cunt lips as his tongue laved the dainty inner petals of rosy flesh.
"Me neither," Jeanette muttered, voice muffled as she felt herself reeling toward a quickie climax. "And it feels so good. Charlie hasn't eaten my pussy since a year after we were married. Soooo darned good, Tom, having my hairpie devoured."
He slurped her pussy in reply and his fingers dug into the firm, rubbery loaves of her butt. "I'm gonna cummmm," she cried plaintively. "But it would be so much more heavenly if I had a nice, hard pecker bringing me out and making me go boom-boom."
Tears flowed from her pinched eyes as he moved his hands, adjusted his thumbs against her anal ring and pushed. "Awwwwwk," she squawked as his thumbs penetrated her ass-hole and dug deep. At the same time, his tongue probed deep into her cunt and Jeanette bit her tongue to keep from screaming out her expression of extreme ecstasy. "Tongue me deep and suck my pussy hard," she begged, scooting her ass around on his face with erotic shuffles. "Eat my pussy good." She felt as if she would swoon when his thumbs levered apart, stretching her ass-hole out of shape. Hadn't Sylvia said he corn-holed her? Yes, a butt hole could accommodate a big prick. But she wasn't sure she was quite ready for that, even if she did feel she sort of wanted to find out what being corn-holed was all about.
His thumbs were dancing in and out of her rectum in alternating rhythm and she was going wild in her bowels and her cunt at the same time.
Her enchantment heated toward a fever pitch and she pulled her dress and half-slip up over her trembling thighs and scooped her hands under Tom's head, holding his face in her sex-soppy trough. "Keep going," she panted, crushing her snatch against his avid face. "Suck my cunny good and use your tongue to scoop out my cum-juices," she pleaded, eyes squinted shut as she savored the rising nuances of orgasm.
But Tom suddenly released the cheeks of her butt, pulled his fingers out of her anus with little cork-popping sounds and scooted under the car, taking his mouth from her dripping pussy.
"Oooooohhhhh, you damned bastard," Jeanette whimpered, her ass still scooting and rutting where his mouth had been. Sobs shook her body as disappointment surged through her. Then she was lifted with strong hands under her arms, palms hard and demanding on her pointy titties.
"Gotta fuck you," Tom groaned, opening the back door of the sedan and pushing her in on the back seat. Jeanette lifted her head and peered over a shoulder, eyes widening as he unbuttoned his coveralls and pushed them down. "Oooohhhh," she squeaked when he dropped his shorts and his massive column of flesh hove into sight.
"Jesus Christ," she gasped in awe as Tom pushed her front down on the corner of the seat and his thumbs parted the half-moons of her bottom after flinging her dress tail up over her back.
"Push your ass and cunt back," Tom grated, voice loaded with lust. Cool air breathed across her bare bottom for a moment then she felt the heat of his monstrous faggot.
"God, no!" she gasped as the blunt head of his cock raked down her crack and nudged her anus. But he bent his knees, letting the knob search into the velvety folds of her long slot.
She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes with expectancy as she held rigid as he prodded his prick with a slow, short hunching of hips. It seemed the inner petals of her sex-blossom were being crushed by his cunt-mauler and the outer flares of flesh were stretched in a fat donut shape.
"Aaaahhhhh," she hissed as the red-hot head of his cock poked at her entry. His hands at her waist kept her from wilting away from him. He wobbled his shaft, back and forth, reaming her entry,, then socked the great bulb of his cock into her pussy.
Jeanette fought a choking sensation, felt she was being torn as Tom wedged his mammoth tusk deeper and deeper into her defenseless body. A searing enthrallment coursed upward into her belly, seeming to ignite in arcing fires in the tips of her tumescent titties.
"Gonna have me the tightest, hottest piece of tail in a long time," Tom growled, his hips bucking as he drove and pounded his cock far ino her cunt.
"Notttttt soooooo fast," Jeanette screamed her protest as the walls of her pussy were sretched and her hole began to gorge with his lustful penetration. Her thigh muscles quivered and her tender ass cheeks tickled as the coarse wool of his pubic growth scratched like spun steel.
"Uuuuunnnnhhhh," Tom growled and grunted, humping his lean ass, driving and powering his husky prick up her strained snatch.
"Aaaaaiiiieeeeee," she whinnied, a form of fear swirling in her brain like a vapor as her cunt was crammed full of grotesquely huge cock. Without warning, he stopped punching into her and let it soak, more than half way in her. Gradually, the numbness fled from her impaled hole and a surge of immensely pleasurable heat washed all through her loins. Her rectum seemed to glow and her innards were bathed in a delectable liquid fire.
"Jean," Tom said huskily, hesitantly, gently rocking and rolling his hips, his huge auger seeming to enlarge her pussy, "you have a gorgeous twat; so hot and snug. It won't hurt you, my prick in there."
Confidence and enchantment built in Jeanette as the strong cuntal muscles began convulsing and milking along the thick shaft of his skewer. "Come on," she breathed hesitantly, almost timidly, pushing her ass back at him invitingly, "but give it to me slowly. Just feed the rest of your big cock in nice and eeeeeeasy!"
But he had thumped it into her and the blunt head with the high thick coronal ridge scraped her cervix, sending electrical impulses crackling through her womb. "You got it all, Babe," Tom gloated, breath coming in gasping chugs. "Now we fuck!"
The resilient, tortured walls of her twat collapsed as he slowly extracted his long tusk and she was filled with momentary disappointment at the empty feeling. But Tom gripped her flanks and bang-bang-banged his plundering prick to the halls up her stinging snatch.
"Eeeeyyyyyoooowwwww ! Jeanette croaked as the power of his lunge lifted her feet from the concrete floor of the garage and she skidded slightly on her titties on the backseat of the car.
On one of his haul-backs, he pulled too far and his cock slipped out of her sex-craving cunt with a loud pop like a champagne cork. "Sombitch," he panted. But she reached down under, found his greasy knob, repositioned it and moved her hand away as he socked the cock back into her without losing more than the time it takes for one stroke.
"Go-go-go-give it to me," Jeanette whispered harshly, trying to shake her ass and rotate her pussy on his piston. But he had her down and helpless and she was unable to backfuck her snatch on his ravaging sex-bone.
Jeanette had the dreamy sensation her pussy was a live thing crawling around his bludgeoning cock, that it had teeth and was chewing the thick pear on the end, that it was about to swallow up his monstrous meat and digest it.
But the swallowing sensation was the preliminary convulsions of orgasm that grew to a raging inferno all through her fuck canal. There was a pitiful screaming rattling the rafters of the garage, but she failed to realize it was she who was squalling.
Fingers tangled in her black hair, snarling and disheveling the long tresses. "My pussy is on fire," she shrieked as she tried to brace herself to take the rapid pelting of his prick into her agonizing, grateful pussy.
"Shoot your gun, Jean," Tom warbled in a mighty gasp, throwing his meat into her in a lustful frenzy. "I'm about to ball your guts out and shoot my wad."
Not in my ass-hole, Jeanette frowned dizzily, trying to fuck her cunt back on his stabbing, spearing prick, feeling the erratic spasmings along his plunging shaft. "Come oooooooon," she wheedled, her cunt muscles gripping and milking his savage pistoning cock.
His first spew of jizz swirled up into her clutching cunt when he had only the head socked away inside her. It galded all along her tunnel and provoked her sphincters into a mad fury of clutching. His load of cum splattered with greater force, blistering her twat as he rammed it back up her, lodging it deep up between her legs.
She could feel the head expanding and expanding and expanding as it gushed stream after stream of male lava into her ravenous pussy.
"Sweet, fucking Christ," she managed weakly as he tried to hunch more cock into her even though he had it buried in her to the balls.
The phone began ringing and Jeanette protested as Tom unlocked his cock from her jizzbrimming cunt. He helped her straighten and wadded a clean grease rag between her legs. "Where the hell's your panties?" he growled, stalking away. She had just finished swabbing out her pussy when he returned.
"Son of a bitch," he rasped, "that was my wife. She better not find out about this, Jean. You better go, she's coming down for something. What have I done? Nobody better ever hear a word about how I-you-we fucked here in the garage. Sure hope we didn't drizzle any jizz in this car; it belongs to the mayor."
Sulkily, Jeanette adjusted her clothes and stumbled away from him, feeling as if she had corncob up her snatch. "I won't tell, you can bet on that," she whispered hoarsely. She ventured a timid smile. "But it was sort of good-well, more than that. It was a darned good screw, Tom Waltham. I'll get out of here now."
She turned at the door. "Tell Syl I'm at the supermarket and ask her to meet me there."
CHAPTER TEN
"How did my husband know you were down here?" Sylvia hissed softly to Jeanette as she strode up to her at the wine shelves in the back of the store.
Jeanette turned slowly to face the brown-haired young woman, smiled with sultry satisfaction. "We were in the midst of fucking in the back-seat of the mayor's car when you called."
Warm lights flickered in Sylvia's eyes as she studied her friend's animated expression. "You got to Tom? That's great! Did he get sort of mean-like, I mean insist on ripping his big gadget in your back and cornholing you?"
"Noooo," Jeanette whispered, "but I think he had it in mind, but his trigger started getting away from him and he settled for jizzing my pussy full."
"Fucking in the ass-hole is okay, if he'd just let me get aroused for it," Sylvia pouted. Then her face brightened. "I got Ed this morning after Tom left. He screwed me on the ottoman in the living room."
Jeanette selected three bottles of wine. "What are you doing downtown at this hour? I came down with pure intentions of getting your husband to fuck me."
"Ed screwed me good," Sylvia said docilely, "but I felt like more and you weren't home and Pearl said you were coming into town with Charlie this morning and I knew I could find you., , "Well?"
"I thought-if you're not sore and all reamed and fucked out-we could go lay Trina's preacher-man," Sylvia said, trying to control her jubilance.
"At his church?" Jeanette whispered, handing out some of the money Charlie had given her for the milk bill.
"I saw him leave," Sylvia said, holding the door of the store open and darting to open the car door. "Let's go down there and screw him, Jean!"
* * *
Grant Stein was at the top of a very tall aluminum ladder in the center of the little church. A ragged stocking cap was pulled over his sparse blonde hair and he was swabbing at dark beams with a piece of gunny sack in a rubber-gloved hand.
"Whatcha Join' ? " Jeanette called as she and Sylvia eased in the double front door.
"What! Huh?" he replied, startled, obviously not expecting visitors. "I'm using a very potent varnish remover; I want to bleach these old beams, maybe paint them white." He came down the ladder a couple of rungs, steadying a gallon bucket on the top of the ladder. "Don't close the doors ; this stuff is wicked as the devil . . ." he chuckled, pleased at his unintentional pun.
"Takes your breath away, huh?" Sylvia called up to him as Jeanette strode toward the front of the small church, got up on the dais.
"The fumes can make you dizzy." Grant nodded, coming down another rung or two.
"This the altar for sacrifices?" Jeanette called, standing behind a large table-like fixture.
"No," Grant laughed self-consciously. "That's just a big packing box I put there to work off of."
"I think it would make a great sacrificial altar," Jeanette pursued, stretching out on the long box. "It would work just great for sacrificing young virgins and girls not so pure."
She stretched her arms back over her head in a posture of supplication and lifted her right knee, letting her dress slip down her thigh to expose a sleek, creamy expanse of skin.
"Don't be sacrilegious," Grant chided, shuffling down the weaving ladder.
Jeanette glanced at him mischievously, kicked her feet into the air, caught her hips in hands on her stiffened forearms and began a bicycle exercise, bare legs flashing and threshing in the air. "Maybe a little impious, but not what all you said," she pouted.
Grant started to hurry. The bucket jostled, caught on a ladder rung and tilted, sloshing its contents over the front of the tall young minister's patched coveralls. "Oh, my God," he gasped.
"Hurry down and don't fall," Sylvia called, standing aside.
"This stuff will blister and actually take off the skin," Grant groaned.
Jeanette sprang from the dais and darted up the aisle. "Phew, the stuff certainly stinks dreadful-like," she sniffed and sneezed. "Grant, you are soaked with the stuff."
"God, yes," he intoned, trying to hold his soggy coveralls away from his lean, tall body.
"What can you do about it?" Sylvia questioned, concern darkening her brown eyes.
"I should shower, but the pump isn't working and there's no water downstairs," he lamented.
"Well, come on," Jeanette said decisively, taking his right arm and nodding to Sylvia. "Let's get you downstairs and get you fixed up, Grant."
"I can feel it burning my skin," he croaked as they shuffled down the narrow, dark stairs to a combination of small kitchen, work area and office.
"You must get these things off," Jeanette said dourly, pushing him into the office, smug as she noticed the battered leather sofa against one wall. "His boots, Syl," she said abruptly, attacking the buttons of the coveralls.
"Oooohhhh, please you can't," Grant protested, but Jeanette slapped away his hands and tugged the coveralls down to his waist where he clung to them. "You can't," he said, a note of hysteria in his voice.
"Why not?" Jeanette demanded.
"Because I'm-not wearing anything-under these," he said plaintively.
"Crap," Sylvia interjected. "You don't want the skin to peel off your tunny and your-you-know-whats, do you?" And she helped Jeanette tug the garment to the floor. "UP with your footsies," she commanded.
"Sit back on the sofa," Jeanette urged, pushing him. For a moment, she studied his lank frame, long, lean legs, flat gut and the soggy, stinking boxer shorts. "Sylvia, find some clean rags and some water, if you have to go to the river."
"Water in that ten gallon cream can," Grant provided, eyes bleary from breathing the fumes of the paint remover. He let his head loll back dizzily as Jeanette unsnapped the waistband of his shorts and exposed his limp, wilted genitals. "It stings and burns," he whined.
While Sylvia went to bring water in a stainless steel milk pail and some clean rags, Jeanette succeeded in getting Grant's Tee shirt off.
"I think I'm going to faint," he moaned, head lolling to his left shoulder.
"Just faint away," Jeanette murmured, easing him over on the sofa, jostling him onto his back. "Well, well, well," she gloated, ogling his complete nakedness. There was a faint pinkness of his skin, but she couldn't detect any serious. burning from the volatile fluid.
"Hurry up, Syl," she called, hovering over him and warily lifting his limp peter. "Nice, big balls," she intoned, gripping his dong, tugging it up to lift his well-filled scrotum.
She smoothed out his blondish, silverish hair and several strands came out. "Syl, I think he's going to lose a batch of his manhood bush," she said as the brown-haired girl returned with a bar of Camay she had found in one of the rest-rooms.
"Yeah?" Then Sylvia began giggling, squatting beside the heavily breathing young preacher. "Well, I bet he would look terrific-not obscene at all-if he was as hairless as a young boy."
"Yup," Jeanette nodded, excitement building in her as she selected a rag and dipped it in the bucket of water. "Let's do what we can, washing off that awful smelling stuff." He winced when she began swabbing his thighs and belly with the cold, soapy water.
Sylvia used her hands to soap and wash his twitching balls and quivering pecker. "I'd like to see a ,man all shaved slick and hairless," she pouted. "Hey, look at the head of his dick grow, Jean!" she whispered, giggling softly. "Look at his holy pole stiffen and get long-long-longer!"
Grant groaned groggily and his legs tensed and the muscles ridged in his flat belly as Sylvia stroked her fingers up and down his stiffening staff, working up a thick, creamy lather.
"I know about what Pearl would do if she had his dong in her hands," Jeanette smirked.
"What?" Sylvia asked absently, concentrating on her play with Grant's sturdy pecker.
"Suck his cock," Jeanette gloated.
"Hah!" Sylvia retorted. "I could do that-blow his pipe and fill the air with soap bubbles ! But I don't think I want to get soap-or hair-in my mouth right now."
"I'm gonna go get a bottle of that wine," Jeanette shrugged, still reluctant to leave the naked young minister alone with the obviously hard-up, hot-pantied Sylvia. "Don't let him blow his gasket 'til I get back."
When she returned, Sylvia was working on Grant's well-soaped pubic forest. "What on earth are you doing? Where did you get that?"
"The razor? It was in the men's restroom," Sylvia said archly, giggling softly as she deftly hoed off a wide snatch of Grant's prick moss. "Here, hold his hard-on up out of the way while i finish shaving his belly and get the wool off his nice balls. Don't you think he'll look fantastic? Soooo smooth and edible, Jean."
With one hand, Jeanette held onto Grant's prominent cock-knob while she held the neck of the bottle to his lips. "Drink it up-or down," she said when he gurgled, almost choked, then caught his breath. "Thaaaaaaat's the way," she cooed, "good for you, Grant."
His middle undulated as she squeezed the thick head of his cock, letting it squeegy around in her palm. "A real crop of wool," she chortled with increasing excitement that created a wormy sensation in her pussy. "He has a nice, big one," she marveled, jacking him off slowly before removing her hand so Sylvia could wipe away all the excess lather.
"I never saw a shaved male before," Jeanette gasped with delight and anticipation. "You gonna eat his cock like you hinted?"
Sylvia studied his long, hard subject for a minute, quietly astonished that she didn't now feel the timidity and docility she always had toward her husband. Instead, her mind and breast were glutted with powerful urgings of lust and sexual need.
With both hands on his thick, white wand, she peeled the foreskin 'way down the shaft, baring the coronal flange and crimping-the tip of the pear-shaped head to the underside.
"Uuuuummmm-MMMmmmmm," she breathed, "smell that clean aroma of a well-washed cock, Jean? Scrumptious aroma. I just think I may gobble and chomp on our neighbor's husky hunk of fuck-meat."
Jeanette leaned on Grant's chest to shield his eyes from what Sylvia was about to do-and so she could watch up close. A violent shudder swept through her body as Sylvia leaned her face over her work, opened her mouth and tickled the tip of her tongue around the purplish head. "Aaaaahhhhhh-ah-ah-ah," Grant groaned, his hips bucking.
"Just a second, Syl," Jeanette breathed, enthralled at watching another gal in the process of going down on a man's hard prick. She held the bottle of wine for Grant, almost forcing him to drink. "There, almost two-thirds of a bottle of port. That should keep him doped up for awhile-long enough for us to have our way with him and his nice basket of male cookies."
Jeanette was vaguely aware of how silly she must look, opening her own mouth wide as Sylvia opened-hers, lovingly absorbed the fat end of Grant's impressive cock. "Uuuummmm," Sylvia purred, her tongue slipping from her mouth to explore along his immense barrel.
"You like it?" Jeanette breathed, a hand working up her dress so she could finger her pussy, fondle the passion-inflated labia that flanged her sticky, pink vulva.
"Fantastic," Sylvia nodded, blubbering as she sucked and mouth-fucked his quivering monster. "I love the taste of a nice clean cock. Watch me take all I can down my throat."
Jeanette cringed as she ogled the stiff, white hunk of meat vanishing through her friend's tightly pinched lips. Impulsively, she reached to cup Sylvia's slender throat, feeling the progress of massive cock into her gullet.
Abruptly, drunkenly, Grant broke into slurred song:
"Roooock of Aaaaages . . ."
Jeanette clasped fingers around the base of his prick and flogged it from his groin to Sylvia's trembling chin. "You got a real rock there, Buster," she purred. "And Sylvia's going to give you a couple of stonies, to boot-the way she's sucking your imagine, handsome prick."
"Cleeeeeft for meeeeee . . ."
Jeanette's body and Sylvia shook with silent laughter.
"And we both have clefts for you, Grant," she cackled gleefully. "Hot clefts between our legs just dying to have you massage, then crack your nuts in."
"Let me fiiiiinnnnd myself in thee . . ."
"You betcha," Sylvia gurgled, almost choking on a mouthful of hot cock, "you'll find thyself in me-real deep in me-when I get through sucking and mouth-fucking your marvelous sex-tool."
Jeanette was keenly aware she was becoming relentlessly obsessed with lust and greed for sexing. The insides of her legs were glazed with the juices seeping from her bloated slot. "I went down on the milkman's cock and gave him a blow-job," she groaned, shoveling a hand into her unsheathed crotch and probing her fingers as far as she could into her recently used cunt.
Impulsively, she pushed her face along Grant's belly, felt the whiskery rasp where Sylvia had shaved his groin and lapped her lips around the base of his trembling stump of sex-meat.
Sylvia resisted her greedy attempt to take over when she eased off his cock. "Get my panties off, Jean," she panted, "I'm ready. I just gotta get on top of him and get his big cock in me before I go off. Hurrrrry, Jean, and get me naked so I can get on and top-ride his prick. I need it fucked up my twat 'fore I shoot my bang-bang."
"Damn," Jeanette swore softly, her mouth with-drawing from her claim on his pecker. She dragged Sylvia's dress off over her head, left the bra alone and pulled down the half-slip and panties which were sopping wet from Sylvia's copious flow of cuntal fluid.
Sylvia kept the bulb of Grant's prick lodged in her teeth as she tried to rise. "Help me, Jean," she pleaded urgently as the tall man writhed futily on the sofa. Jeanette hoisted the lithe young woman with hands in her armpits.
"You're gonna have to spit out his cock, what-ever you plan on doing," Jeanette bubbled, patting Sylvia's bare butt, fingering her crack and finding the little triangular sag of her sex-pouch.
"What's going on?" Grant mumbled, words slurred even more as the wine bit into his brain.
"Not 'on', but in," Jeanette corrected as she watched and helped Sylvia climb over him, her knees straddling him.
"Hold his prick pp in the air so I can sit down on it," Sylvia implored, bending her head down to check her position, to see if her gash was hovering above his target area. "Right up in the air, Jean. Yaaahhhhh, hold it just like that. Ever see anything as gorgeous as his long, meaty pussy-spindle without no wool all around it?"
Jeanette clung to Grant's huge prick, canted her head to more or less guide the giant spearhead into Sylvia's dainty warp. "Aaaaaahhhh-Haaaa," Sylvia gloated as she captured the plump plum with her fatty outer lips. "Get his rod aimed at my hole so I can hunker my twat right down on it," she whined with erotic eagerness.
"Gotcha," Jeanette breathed deeply, her own innards coiling and churning. "Aaaa-Oooowwee, beautiful," she sighed enviously as Sylvia's perfumy pussy slowly absorbed the enthralling column of perfect white flesh. "How does his cock sliding in you feel?"
"Like-wooooowwweeee," Sylvia crooned, shaking her bare ass as she took his cock inch after inch. "I like it about as good as having the man on top, pumping to me. I don't think I can get as much prick in my pussy this way as I can on my back with my legs straight up and spread out wide. That way, a gal can get every inch of fuck-pole a guy has. But this is womb-tickling just the same."
In complete command, before she began riding her body up and down on his hairless impaler, she reached behind her and removed her bra. "Come on, Jean, get naked and be ready; you get to fuck him as soon as I have me a heady climax."
When Jeanette hesitated, she frowned, rotated her ass on the enormous, cunt-engorging cock. "Didn't you-say you sat on Tom's face and got him to eat out your pussy? Why don't you strip and get on Grant here? Any man can do a good job of sucking and tonguing cunt if he has the opportunity and a gal puts it to him."
Quickly, Jeanette stripped and stood against Sylvia, hugging her shoulders; fingers playing with her turgid tits. "I get my jollies, too, from watching you turn your trick and fuck him," she murmured, kissing the top-riding girl's cheek.
"Get on his face and let him lick you into a cum," Sylvia urged, beginning to lift her body and slide her gooey pussy back down on his prong with soft, squishy sounds.
"Face me," Sylvia said, rising passion deepening her voice and slurring her words. "We can take turns playing with each others' boobies; while he eats your cunt and I fuck his cock."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jeanette poured some more of the wine into Grant's mouth before she climbed onto the sofa. She snuggled her feet against his head, keeping his face turned upward. His arms waved weakly, futilely as she slowly settled her rear, bringing her long slash against his mewling mouth.
"Suck my pussy good," she breathed, placing hands on Sylvia's shoulders to steady herself. "Aaaaahhhh-ooooooo," she purred, smiling tremulously. She returned Sylvia's wink. "He knows what and how to do it," she whispered, shivering with ecstasy as Sylvia took her hot, tumescent tits in her hands. "He's mouthing my pussy now and -Aaaaiiieeee-he just pushed his tongue inside meeeee. Eeeeeyyyyiiii ! Oh, so good!"
She caressed Sylvia's shoulders, let her hands slide down her friend's arms, fondle for her breasts that jounced saucily as Sylvia steadily rode her supple body up and down on the young preacher's long, slick cock.
There was a creamy froth smearing Sylvia's cunt lips and looked like lace where it was matting in her coppery pubic fur. Jeanette watched with enchantment and lewd expectancy as Sylvia raised her fanny high. Jeanette inhaled raggedly as she peered at the visible flange on the head of Grant's cock that was barely contained by Sylvia's smoldering snatch.
"You're gonna lose it," Jeanette whispered hoarsely, then exhaled as Sylvia giggled, shook her head and slid her body back down, her snatch devouring the long, white rod. "Not on your life," Sylvia purred, rubbing her bottom around on Grant's twitching thighs, forcing his cock to ream and scrape around in her pussy.
"You gonna fuck him 'til he cums?" Jeanette asked shakily, delicious tremors shivering through her as the man beneath them ate her pussy with increasing industry. "He's really tonguing out my twat now," she reported, fingers like talons clenching into Sylvia's pliant titties.
She responded to Sylvia's lip-puckering invitation and leaned to accept the proffered kiss. Her mouth opened to receive Sylvia's darting, lashing tongue. "Uuuummmm," Sylvia crooned, lifting high and slamming her cunt down ruthlessly on the long bone spearing her coiling snatch. The cheeks of her butt slapped loudly against Grant's thighs and his knees rose.
He mumbled something but the words were lost in Jeanette's deep gash. Jeanette noticed that each time Sylvia fucked down hard on his husky cock, his tongue lashed deep into her own throbbing pussy. "I'm gonna cuuummmm!" She whispered the words plaintively into Sylvia's devouring mouth.
"He's getting ready to shoot-whether he wants to or not," Sylvia panted, her body flying up and down faster and faster on the goring prick.
"Then he won't be hard for me," Jeanette whined in protest, gnashing her teeth agitation on Sylvia's probing tongue.
"We can get him hard again and keep him that way," Sylvia admonished, flinging her body wildly on the massive erection she was plundering with her pussy. "We'll just give him some more wine and get him half-stewed and he'll wear a hard-on all day."
"Are we going to fuck him that long?" Jeanette giggled. "What about fixing Tom's lunch?"
"I told him to eat downtown," Sylvia moaned, her body twisting and kinking as she fucked her cunt in a frenzy on Grant's expanding prick. "He seemed a little too disturbed about something-from fucking you, I suppose-to object. He didn't even ask me why I wouldn't be home.
"Aaaaarrrggghhhh," Sylvia screamed, yanking her mouth away from Jeanette's and squeezing the panting brunette's feverish titties roughly as she was launched into a shattering orgasm.
"He jizzed my cunny just as I was slamming it down on his niiiiicccce, biiiiiigggg prick!" she howled with sexual delirium. "He's really unloading a flood of cum in my hole. Ooooohhhh, God, wonderful fuckin' cock!"
Just watching Sylvia in her devastating throes of orgasm sent Jeanette into a new pandemonium of passion. Suddenly, Sylvia threw her head back and began yelling, "I gotta get off; his jizzing cock feels so good, exploding in my pussy, I can't stand it anymore!"
She slowly keeled backwards and Grant's cunt-slimed cock slid out of her convulsing cavity. "It'll get soft, it'll get soft!" Jeanette cried fretfully. "Don't let his wonderful prick get soft!"
Jeanette grabbed up his still-spewing prick with both hands and jacked him off furiously. Thick, pearly cum squirted about six inches in the air to splat back on her fists. "Oh, no, don't go all limber," she sobbed, leaning forward, her breasts crushed against him, and gobbling his turgid member into her mouth.
"Uuuummmm-Yuuummmm," she sighed, breath whistling through her narrowed nostrils as she sucked and tongued away the copious juices from Sylvia's snatch and his massive tusk of fuck-meat.
"Suck my pussy good," she howled at Grant as she wobbled her face back and forth, pressing the massive knob of his cock against the back of her throat, down her gullet. The tight, wet mouth-fucking brought a resurgence to his cum-pump and he sprayed sticky hot jizz down her throat and she swallowed rapidly to carry away the flood of creamy, delicious semen.
Her hands lifted his balls and pressed the passion-sweaty monsters against her weeping eyes as she gulped and fucked her mouth ravenously on his fertile organ. Her tongue increased in sensitivity and she could feel the twinging of nerves and muscles along the lust-engorged shaft of his spasming prick.
Slowly, a great sense of smugness and satisfaction formed in her dizzy mind as she realized she had gone all the way down on his long prick, had all of it in her throat and mouth. He writhed and groaned as she alternately sucked and blow-jobbed his stiff joint.
After Grant left, Trina took a hot bath, put on a bra and panties and shuffled into an ankle-length dressing gown. Lethargically, she washed his breakfast dishes and sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee.
If I had had panties on yesterday, that old preacher-man wouldn't have gotten to me that way, she reflected ruefully, perplexed by the feverish heat between her legs that the memory provoked.
But he had done something to her she had never even dreamed about, she mused guiltily. He had gotten her legs open and his mouth on her, down there between her thighs.
"Aoooohhhh," she sighed, body trembling as she succumbed to the memory and savored the forbidden sensation. "Evil," she whispered without rancor. And you sucked his cock in your mouth, her mind r reminded her. Prayer, she thought. "Oh, dear God . . ." she began.
And was interrupted by a soft, timid knocking at the front door. Her body stiffened and she hugged the lapels of the gown over her heaving bosoms. Not Jean, she thought hastily, she went to town. And I saw. Syl drive away. Maybe Pearl...
She was about to call "come in", but got up from the table and hurried to the front door. For a moment, all she saw was the heavy fog that again clung to the ground. Then she saw Corky Graham. "School was called off the rest of the week because of the fog," he said" uncertainly, "and I just thought I would drop by."
Trina's brain went dizzy for a minute. For what? she fretted nervously. For some more of what I did to you and we did yesterday when you hurt yourself ? He extended his arm and she took the paper from him, suddenly hotly aware that his eyes darted to the open sag of the bodice of the dressing gown.
"You finished your paper route already?" she asked dumbly.
"Yah, a little while ago," Corky said, his eyes keen on her face, scowling faintly when she snugged the gown closed over her tingling breasts.
She was about to send him away and close the door, but she found herself saying, "Well, come on in. I was having a cup of coffee and there must still be some in the percolator."
Trina didn't know why she did it, but she pressed the door knob and turned it to lock as the slender youth preceded her toward the kitchen. As she poured another cup of coffee, she asked, emotion choking her voice, "You weren't hurt badly?"
"Nah, I'm okay," the boy replied.
She nearly spilled the coffee, not knowing he was close behind her until his strong, slender arms snaked around her waist and his hands cupped her breasts. "Now, Corky," she gasped, her elbows closing against his arms as if to push him away, but she merely tightened his embrace. "You better not," she gasped as his hands fumbled inside her robe and were firm over her breasts, feeling almost as if there was nothing between her flesh and his eager hands.
"You mustn't," she protested lamely, taking a deep breath, leaning back against him, arching her breasts high, pressing them into his rapacious young hands. "What we did wasn't and isn't right," she murmured weakly. "We mustn't ever do anything like that-ever, ever, ever again.'
She sighed as his arms flourished around her and the robe drifted away to open her bare skin to his groping, inexperienced hands.
Without even thinking, Trina hunched and rolled her shoulders. The robe slid down her arms. "Turn me loose," she whined. But the boy's arms tightened about her and his hands trapped her rising and falling breasts more snugly. "Well, just for a moment, Corky," she added irritably, "Yes," she sniffed as his arms withdrew and the robe slithered down her arms, down her back into a tumble at her feet.
She tilted her body back against him, shrugging her arms away from her sleek sides, making room for his embrace again. But his hands moved over her smooth back. His fingers fumbled at the bra fasteners. "Oh, yes, do that," she whispered heatedly, drawing a deep breath that fairly lifted the perfect cones up out of the cups as they drifted away.
"This is really naughty and not right," she said numbly, shuddering again as his arms came back around her, crossed over her waist and the eager hands glommed her opulent globes of flawless, creamy flesh.
"Aaaah-aaaaah," she purred as his lips moved over her back, his tongue crawling hotly along the crest of a shoulder and he kissed and nibbled the skin in the curve of her shoulder and neck.
The fever between her legs communicated itself to her brain. "Is this all you came back for?" she moaned softly. "My body?" She wondered, thought processes thick and sluggish, if she would tolerate this violation if she wasn't so lonely and felt so neglected by her husband.
Reason seemed to desert her and she found she was concentrating on wishing the boy was naked, too. Zombie-like, she cupped her hands over his and tried to manipulate his fingers on her burning breasts in a way that pleased her all the more.
When he comprehended that, she liked the nipples pinched and rolled, she let her arms sag to her waist. Without even thinking about it, she hooked thumbs in the thin elastic of the waist of her panties and pushed them down as far as she could, over her rounded bottom to nearly mid-thigh.
"You're dressed and I'm naked," she said plaintively, her hands groping behind her, fingers wiggling for him. "It's not fair for me to be naked and you to be clothed."
Her eyes opened and her mouth worked to protest as he released her. When the boy stepped back, she turned slowly in the jumble of the robe and stared at him as he tossed away his jacket. His eyes were blazing blue fires as he ogled her nudity, probing at her jutting tits for a moment, then falling to dwell on the reddish tinsel adorning her mound and the pooch of vaginal lips from between her crowded-together legs.
She watched his face until he was naked to the waist, then she focused her attention on the area most fascinating to her. "Yesssss," she hissed as he opened his pants and let them fall to the floor. "Yesssss," she repeated as he shoved his shorts away and his manhood stood at obscene attention before her avid eyes.
Impulsively, Trina went to her knees and removed his pants, then his boots and socks. She lingered on the floor in worshipful pose, eyeing his magical wand. It stared back at her, seemingly, with its vertical, slanted eye.
A hand reached timidly, trembling. When it detected the heat in his hard rod, her fingers darted forward and closed on it. She leaned forward, rubbing the dark, slick head over her lips, up beside her nose. Each time she passed the hot knob over her lips, she kissed it softly, her eyes dancing to his pinched face for approval.
"Remember yesterday, I kissed it for you and took your wonderful-peter-in my mouth?" she said falteringly.
Corky swallowed and nodded.
Her gaze wavered. "Would you do me-minethat; way, too, Corky? Please?"
His brow wrinkled momentarily in a scowl. "Gooooolllllllly," he muttered as Trina opened her mouth and her lips enveloped the torrid knob. She sucked hungrily, her eyes on his for a minute. "It's so good, huh? Having your thing sucked and loved? I like mine done, too."
She reached to grasp his arms at the elbow and stretched to her feet, hugged his shoulders and pulled him against her. She rubbed her hot titties against his young, bony chest and molded her curvy body to his belly, trapping his pecker between tween them, and moved her creamy thighs against his. His cock was like a smoldering faggot against her tunny.
Instinctively, in lustful need, Corky began rutting his body against her, dry-fucking his hard cock up across her painfully tense tunny. "I'll suck yours some more, if you'll do me," she whispered, kissing his cheek and playing her hands up and down his lean back to knead his taut buttocks. "I think we can do it to each other all at the same time," she sighed dreamily as his hands caressed her back, found the sloping half-moons of her hungry ass.
When he bent his knees, she read his intention and slid her feet apart, even reached in to bend his erect prick between her legs into her crotch. She let him fuck at her, but when the head of his cock failed to do more than slither back and forth through her vulva, she grasped it at the base and lodged the fat bulb at her opening.
"Noooooow," she whispered, leaning back and arching her cunt out to him. "Aaaahhhiiieeeyah," she gurgled, voice guttural as he stabbed his prick into her. She kept her arms embracing him as he held onto her ass cheeks and began fucking her standing up.
The boy grunted, groaned and gasped as he labored, fucking at her clumsily in the awkward position. "I'm not going to get there this way," Trina whined, arching her crotch to him, trying to get more of his cock into her famished cunny.
"Let's get on the sofa or on the floor or back in the bed," she whimpered, her body sweat mingling with that of the laboring youth. She grew irritable and impatient as he hunched ineffectively at her unfulfilled pussy and she wrestled away from him, panting and gasping as his wet prick slid out of her coiling pussy.
"It's just not working, not any good, trying to screw standing up," she sulked, her hand gripping his hard, eager cock and bending it away from her heaving belly. "Let's get on the couch." She led him by the cock through the living room. "And I want you to do mine with your mouth and I'll do yours at the same time," she said determinedly as she released his cock and stretched out on her back. She motioned with her hands how she wanted him to mount her, head to toe.
She took his penis in one hand as he settled over her. "You get your mouth on my cunny and start doing it good and I'll suck yours," she admonished, splitting her legs wide, curling them up over his back.
"Please?" she whimpered, placing her heels at the back of his head and urging his face into her crotch. To encourage him, she jacked him off slowly and ran the tip of her tongue along the underside of his quivering cock.
She tried to curve her cunt to his mouth when she felt his hot breath blowing in short gasps in her gaping gush. "Go on, Corky, kiss me down there and suck your lips on it and use your tongue in me."
Trina bent his young, hard cock around to her mouth and sucked him with a promise. Then his arms scooped under her bottom and his fingers peeled the loaves of her ass wide open as he fastened his wide o aen mouth in her blazing trench.
"Aaaaaaahhhhh-yessssssss," Trina panted, ass bucking, and she worked the knob of his cock between her lips, slid it through a cheek and let it slip into her throat. Her breath whinnied through her nostrils as she worked her mouth and tongue on the immense hunk of pleasure-meat filling her face.
Her innards churned as Corky responded to her promised blow-job and he attacked her furnace entry with relish, gulping and blowing his wind into her coiling canal. As his fervor increased, Trina placed her hands at the union of his legs and torso and guided him into a coital movement of fucking her suctioning mouth.
When she felt the first stirrings of his ejaculation, she hunched away from him and got his cock out of her mouth. "Get around and on me and in me in a hurry," she panted for breath, opening her legs wide and urging him to reverse his position with one of her feet.
Grunting and huffing and sniffling, he flopped around and atop her. She had his long cock in a flash and aimed it into her scalding snatch. "Fuck in deep in a hurry," she begged, heisting her ass as he thrust into her. "Aaaaggghhh," she growled, locking her ankles over his ass and pushing on his butt with the heel of one foot.
"I'm gonna cum off hard," she whimpered, breathing noisily, "and I can feel your jizz building up. Come on, Corky, fuck your nice, big cock in me fast and really deep and slam in all the way just as you-Ooooohhhh, Jesus, I'm cumming!-shoot my cunny full of hot jizz," she screamed. "Come on, I'm cumming ! Fuck me, Coorrrrrrky!"
CHAPTER TWELVE
Planning the regular Friday night parties was never a complicated process, consisting of who would bring what kind of liquor and who would fix what for snacks to avoid duplication.
So that afternoon .the girls spent nearly three hours refining the operation of their slave sale. "Just so a gal gets a husband she hasn't had before," Jeanette winked.
"I don't understand," Trina said dubiously.
"All contrived, Honey," Jeanette purred. "Now Syl and I have had your hubby and she has had Ed crunch her cookies. I've gotten my jollies from your guy-as I said-and took on Tom down at the garage. Pearl-as far as she will admit-has crushed my guy's stonies. Honey, you haven't had any of our men, so the three of us have to stack the deck so we get a strange piece of nookey and you get the man left over. Not that he'll not be terrific," she added hastily.
"We sell them by secret bid," Sylvia said, grinning shyly, but her slow blush betrayed her exuberance, "Let 'em sweat all night and turn 'em over to their owners-for-a-day early tomorrow morning."
"The only combination I see," Jeanette picked up, refreshing their drinks, "would pair you with Grant, Pearl; Sylvia with Charlie; me with Ed; and Trina with Tom."
"Maybe Grant won't come to the party," Trina said wistfully.
"He'll come," Sylvia said dourly, "or Jean and I will come to your house and drag him to the Waltham's. After all, we shaved his balls as bald as his head will be in a few-years. He'll come-or we'll strip him bare-assed and take him again in the middle of your living room floor."
"Grant won't drink anything," Trina pouted.
"He will if I have to sit on his lap and pour it in his mouth," Pearl giggled. "Pm itching to see his hairless pecker and balls."
Shortly after ten that night, Sylvia grabbed up the cards from the eight-handed pitch game. "I think, ladies, we better get our slave sale out of the way before Tom gets a wrecker call. By the way, Honey," she said to the wavy-haired man sitting opposite her, "you better get in touch with your relief man and be sure he'll be on hand all day tomorrow-because I'm selling you tonight."
"What the hell you talking about?" Tom grumbled while all the men but Grant Stein rumbled with laughter.
"You can shut your trap," Jeanette chastised her husband, "because I'm peddling your ass, too."
"You're kiddin', Babe," Charlie snorted, blushing and chomping a piece of ice. "None of you gals-not all together-has enough money to pay me what I'm worth."
"Shhhhh," Jeanette cooed, kissing him on the ear as she helped bring fresh drinks all around. "If you were so damned hot around the house, I wouldn't put your cock on the block."
"I heard that," Pearl said, brushing a hip against Charlie's shoulder and laughing softly.
"I don't understand all this," Grant said a trifle woozily, his eyes avoiding Sylvia and Jeanette's twinkling gazes.
"You'll get the full drift in the morning when we surrender you to your new owner," Trina blurted with an unaccustomed boldness. "And you'll do what you're ordered, Grant Stein. Just like the slave I purchase."
"What will you do with a slave?" Grant laughed doubtfully, blustering slightly.
"I'll treat him and use him just like the paper-boy," she retorted, color rising to a pretty level in her face. She pushed out her lower lip impudently.
"And you'll do it, Grant-honey," she continued breathlessly. Almost casually, as if it meant nothing of import, she added, "You may get sold to Sylvia or Jean. So you do what you're told."
Grant smoothed hair that didn't exist on the crown of his head and blinked at his wife's unfamiliar spirit of dominance. "This is crazy," he mumbled.
Then Jeanette said, "Everyone light a fresh cigarette, collect your drinks-the men, that is-and cloister yourselves in one of the back bedrooms. Each wife will show her husband for the others to bid on. Okay? Scoot-except you, Charlie-dear. I'm gonna auction you first. Girls, secret bids, remember?"
"What if a gal buys more than one guy?" Ed muttered, as if waking.
"She'll just peddle him to a gal who needs two helpers or keep him or sell him to a gal without a slave," Jeanette shrugged, grateful for her witty, fast-thinking. "Stay, Charlie," she admonished her husband as the other men slouched toward the other end of the house.
"You see before you," Jeanette said solemnly, addressing the other three young women who had arranged their chairs about the dinette table, "an electrician, licensed to string wire and hook up fixtures and such stuff in the State of Idaho"
Sylvia and Pearl tittered softly and clapped their hands silently. Trina sat without expression, but her eyes wavered up and down Charlie's slouching frame.
Jeanette patted Charlie's chest, unbuttoned three buttons of his shirt. "Lots of chest hair and not much else."
Jeanette took his left arm and turned him back and forth, then moved around him. She molded her body to his, crushing and squirming her breasts against his back.
"Awwwwwww, hell; Jean," Charlie grumbled, but he laughed indulgently.
"Hush," she admonished him as she pushed her hands into his front pants pockets. He tried to shove her away with his rump, but she groped for his genitals and clamped down her fingers. "His power outlet is a little short-speaking of shorts, I think it has a short in it, no more than he plugs it ,in.
"Jesus Christ, Jeanette," he said, now a little irritable and embarrassed.
Her left hand squiggled in his pocket. "And his two bulbs definitely are of low wattage." She gave his testicles and penis a harsh squeeze, then withdrew her hands, patted him on the butt.
"There you have it," she said in a tone of finality. "Do you all have a page out of the score-book? Good. Write down your secret bids and we'll evaluate them later. Bid 'em high for good ole Charlie."
As she started for the table, she nodded at Pearl. "Take him back to an empty bedroom and bring out your wares, Pearl."
* * *
"This is Ed Chaveau, your friendly television repairman," Pearl said in a cynical voice. "He was called my 'wares', but, lately, I've come to think of him as my worns. Worn out." She patted the prominent tenting of his pants. "Probably got a shot tube-but I couldn't say when he last shot it."
"You dames have all gone crazy," Ed protested weakly. "Especially you, Pearl. You're all daffy."
"Shut up, Ed," Pearl said crisply. "Want to queer your sale?" She played her hands up and down his ribs, over his flat belly and down the outsides of his legs, then crossed her forearms and ran her hands up inside his thighs, used her thumbs to twiddle his privates. "A very limp antenna and two ground terminals. Neither working, I'm led to believe by the supervisors of Better Housekeeping."
"You're going too damned far," Ed swore softly, scowling. He subsided when Sylvia rose part way out of her chair and pointed.
"I could focus better if you'd get a-hold of his fine-tune gadget," she said tartly. Ed's ears reddened when his wife found the tab of his zipper.
"Never mind that, Syl," Pearl winked. "Please bid now and Sylvia can cage him with Grant and bring out good old Tom."
* * *
"A mechanic," Sylvia said, leading her husband back to the living room. "He never sleeps. in fact, he does his best rear end work when the customer is sleeping-or trying to. He has a manual transmission and long shift lever."
"Whhhaaaatttt," Tom muttered, a trifle drunker than the rest of them.
"He would never pass the state safety inspection and would be rejected on any okay Used Car lot," Sylvia said with increasing confidence. "But when he does shift into high, he is fluid drive all the way. But he's hard on a she-hide's clutch when he starts in. He's easy on inner tubes, but carries patches and workable pump."
Sylvia turned Tom away and nodded at Trina. "I think I know who the high bidder is going to be, Dear," she smirked. "Don't you dare gyp her, you hear? Now back to the bedroom you were in. Take him down the hall, Trin', and bring out your offering."
* * *
Trina stood uncertainly beside Grant who blinked owlishly, dumbly at the leering women. "I don't think I can do it," she whispered, blinking.
You mean you can't sell him?" Pearl's teeth clicked and her pouty lips curved into a frown.
"Oh, I want to sell him, but I don't think I can-you know-show him," Trina pleaded.
"You can, Trina," Jeanette encouraged. "Just do whatever you feel like you can. Okay?"
Trina sucked on her lower lip for a moment, eyes downcast. "Okay, I'll try. This here is a preacher-young and inexperienced-in-everyyyyything," she said valiantly.
She blinked back tears when the others applauded and hooted softly, "More, more, more."
"He's going bald," she blurted, turning away from Grant, "all over," she finished in a whisper.
"Trina, this is a lot of nonsense," Grant said solemnly, obviously half-looped.
"Not worth much, except leading a prayer meeting," Trina continued stubbornly. "He believes the staff of life is truly a loaf of bread. What-ever I'm offered is probably too much.
"Is that enough? Do you want to bid now?" she finished in a rush.
"Beautiful," Jeanette gushed as Sylvia rose and hugged the petite redhead. Then Sylvia strode a little way into the hallway. "Okay, you bums can all come back now." And she returned to sit with the women as the,men swaggered into the kitchen to replenish their drinks.
"No damned talking," Pearl called with stern ominousness. "Okay, what time do we deliver 'em in the morning?"
"Six sharp," Jeanette said, "out in the damned weeds about equidistant from all our houses."
"Bring 'em on a leash to make the exchanges," Sylvia, added.
"Now, just a damned minute," Tom blustered, "I think you women all have cabin fever from the lousy fog or something. Okay, we men will play along with you dizzy dames, but leashes?"
"Who gets the money we brought?" Charlie guffawed.
"The sellers, naturally," Jeanette snapped. "Okay, gals, I think we oughta break it up. Six comes early. So, let's split up the booze-give Trina that bottle of vodka-she'll probably need it."
As they moved toward the front door, Tom said, "I got a-hold of Ernie and he'll open up in the morning. But damn you dames if something comes up and I lose a lot of dough."
* * *
An outside observer the next morning wouldn't have gotten a flutter out of a polygraph if he had sworn lunacy was afoot in Southwest Idaho. What would anyone have said if they had witnessed four women in housecoats carrying flashlights and leading four men on pieces of clothesline rope through the fog?
"Let's see," Jeanette murmured, flashing her light from face to face, "who bought whom? Ohhhhh, yesssss." And she handed the end of Charlie's rope to Sylvia and took the end of Ed's rope from Pearl. Pearl stepped forward, kicking petulantly at a frosted weed clump and took possession of Grant Stein.
"Come on, Charley," she said.
"I'm Charlie," Charlie cackled.
"Figure of speech, dumb-cock," she whispered loudly.
As Sylvia tugged on Charlie's rope, she pressed her own husband's leash into Trina's hands. "Make him do whatever you want, however you want, Honey. Don't let him get the upper hand, though. Once he gets the idea, he'll dick you good-make him eat hair-pie and he bathed. just before we came so you may enjoy sucking his rod. Don't choke, Baby."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
As soon as Jeanette led Ed in the back door, she removed the rope. "Fix us a couple of coffee royals, Ed." She turned down the hallway to the bedroom. "Then take off your shirt-I want to get a look at what I bought."
"My shirt?" he called after her, finding the bottle of whiskey on the counter next to the percolator.
"Oh, yesssss, and your shoes and pants," she retorted. She let the robe slide from her shoulders, caught it and hung it in the closet. Briefly, she surveyed herself in the long mirror on the closet door, frowning at her slightly unkempt black hair, but smiled as she stretched, lifting her unfettered breasts against the filmy fabric of the knee-length pink nightie. She turned so the light caught her front and her cunt thatch was out-lined as the gown clung to her curves.
Before leaving the bedroom, she called loud enough for him to hear, "Does eating pussy make your cock hard? Or do you like it sucked hard to get ready to screw?"
Ed was still standing in the kitchen, two cups of coffee and whiskey steaming on the counter when she returned. "You told me to do what?" he began, then stopped, a stunned and bewildered frozenness in his face as he stared at the lithe brunette wearing nothing but a low cut nightie.
"Your shirt and pants and shoes," Jeanette said blithely, wiggling to him and unbuttoning his shirt.
"You didn't yell what I heard you yell?" he muttered numbly.
"I did," she disputed, "and do you like to eat it to get hard-or do you like a blow-job to get you ready to fuck?"
"Son of a bitch," he breathed shakily as his pants fell around his ankles. He stood transfixed as Jeanette removed his shirt and tossed it over the back of a chair in the dining area.
"Yeah. Well, you manage your shoes and finish with your trousers. Okay?" She slapped at his genitals with the back of her hand as she picked up a cup. "This one mine?" And she swaggered toward the living room, hips swinging. "We could go to the bedroom-but Charlie has gotten me used to the idea that it is only for sleeping. And I got something in mind besides snoozing."
Listening as he removed his pants and shoes, Jeanette sauntered into the living room and settled onto the sofa, an elbow on the arm supporting most of her weight as she held the cup and saucer daintily. She drew a foot up near her bottom, forcing the flimsy nightie to slither down her thigh.
"Yeah," she echoed her earlier comment. "Look all you want. Have a good, close ogle at my pussy, Ed. By the way, shuck the shorts. Just don't lose them for Charlie to find. I want you to have most of everything with you that you brought when your balls turn into pumpkins and you crawl your spent ass out of here."
"Does Charlie or Pearl or any of them know what we're doing? What are they doing?" Ed managed with difficulty.
"No one knows-and you better not tell, Ed. And I don't have the faintest what they're all up to. Get your shorts off so I can make an estimate of what kind of pecker you got," she hissed, impatience increasing.
Without taking her eyes from him, she watched him drop his skivvies and step out of them, kick them toward his clothes in the dining area. His peter lurched out and up without impediment of clothing and his balls rolled in an up and down churning action.
She set her cup and saucer on the arm of the sofa and. leaned forward. "Help me off with this thing, Ed-honey," she purred. "And play nice with my titties. Okay?"
Jeanette waited, eyes on his twitching genitals as he slurped down the coffee and booze, set the cup and saucer on the coffee table. "Squat on the floor beside me," she cooed, reaching for him, catching his wobbling dong as he settled beside her.
Her hand clenched on his expanding cock as he covered one of her breasts with a big hand and his lips closed nervously over the taut nipple of the other. "Aaaaahhhhh, yesssss, suck my tittie and teeth on my nipple nice like that."
She gasped with erotic pleasure, her butt hole tightening as he sucked and her hand worked on his thickening, hardening cock. "I like that," she gasped, "and I like jacking off a big, handsome prick, too."
Her breath whistled softly through her teeth as he laid a cool hand on her tunny and pressed, his little finger doodling at the fringe of curliness adorning her tender mound. "Cup my pussy, Ed," she pleaded, milking the foreskin up over the plump plum of the head of his cock. She skidded her legs wide as he shoveled a hand between her legs and pressed the hot lips of her cunny in against her turbulent vulva.
Her mouth opened in sublime anticipation as she felt the ooze of hot, sticky syrup from the slit in the blunt tip of his. cock onto her threshing hand. "Stick a finger deep in my honey-hole," she panted, her ass jouncing and rolling about on the sofa.
"Aaaaaahhhhhheeeeeee," she whinnied as he spread the lips of her furrow and delved his middle finger into her vagina. "Deeeeeeper," she whined, curving her crotch out to his pleasure-digit. "Up my twat all the way," she whispered, sweat springing to her satiny skin.
"Finger-diddle me good-into a quickie-cum," she urged, passion building like a stormy ,fever in her brain. "How long can you fuck a gal without cumming? How long does it take you to re-load to screw her-mmmmmeeeee-again?" she groaned, ass bucking as he finger-fucked her as fast as she jacked him off.
"First time-in a hot, tight pussy-I shoot pretty fast," he panted, breath delicious on her hard tittie. "But I stay hard as long as the gal works with me-maybe goes down on me or jacks me off. Long as she plays with me and keeps me interested, I can stay hard for a long, long time."
"You get longer all the time-as we keep making out," she . groaned, ass bucking hard to arch her snatch against his hand and the stabbing finger.
"You got it," he grunted, crooking and swizzling his fingers in her hot, juicy cunny. "Ever got it in the ass, Jean? Lots of women like it in the back, too."
"One hole at a time," Jeanette panted, choking off a scream of passion as her cunt cooked and coiled around his expert' finger. "Wish you had a French tickler on your finger so you could-Aaaaaiiiieeeeee !-tickle my twattie," she. moaned, curling an arm around his neck to hold his mouth to her tingling tit.
"First time I ever got finger-diddled I was nine years old," she wheezed, coming out of her blazing orgasm. "Hurt like hell. A kid from the Salvation Army. Played the trumpet. Second time, same kid. I asked him to. And I blew his trumpet for him. The same afternoon, he got me down and got his flute and the whole damned orchestra in me. I've loved Sousa marches ever since."
Ed took his mouth from her wet tittie long enough to kiss her. lingeringly, then went back to her tumescent globe. "First sex I ever had was my sister. I was fourteen; she was seventeen. She blew me hard and swallowed my jizz. My peter burned so-wonderfully. Then she sat on it-broke her cherry-bled all over my shorts and jeans-and fucked me every day all that summer and winter and 'til she got married."
"How old was she when she got married-eighteen?" Jeanette groaned, lifting her hot ass high to get all the finger he had.
"Twenty-six," Ed mumbled, chewing her nipple-berry.
"You lucky bastard, Ed," Jeanette whimpered, her body shuddering as her passion began building to a tempestuous pitch again. "Get on me and in me, Ed-I'm about to bust my rockets again."
She held his flanks as he came up over her, guiding him into her ready saddle. Her right hand grasped his dripping dong and she aimed it, eyes closed with anticipation. "There," she sighed, holding the knob of his cock at her fluttering entry. "Stab deep and all the way and up to the balls in my hot snatch."
Jeanette moved her knees high, to his armpits, and drew her legs against his flanks. "Now," she whispered raggedly, feeling the rubbery outer lips of her cunny snuckle around the thick head of his prick. "Shove the cock to me," she begged.
"Aaaarrrrggghhhh-wonnnderful," she wailed as he lunged into her Veed thighs, driving his long, thick, rigid member far into her snatch, 'til his heavy balls banged meatily against the crack of her ass and bulging anus.
Getting her breath and rejoicing in the lovely sensation of her sphincters swimming around his invading spear, she moaned, "Fabulous prick. I can feel the head tickling my womb. Gouge a little and let me feel the fat shaft all along my cunt-canal."
Ed shoved hard, smiling into her wide-open eyes. His prick-head socked the floor of her sex-well and he raged his pussy-slammer around in her vacuuming sex-cavity. "Make your fuck-muscles milk my prick, Jean," he wheezed, his hands finding the taut bowl of her ass and rocking his body back and forth between her out-fanned legs. "Fuck me back and let's make our first cum right together."
"Don't you dare jizz yet!" Jeanette shouted. "I'm just building to a climax." As best she could, she tossed her bottom at him to give him full penetration with his twitching harpoon of lustful flesh.
"My cock is sizzling; your pussy is boiling my pecker," Ed howled, slamming and banging and pumping his prick into her gripping pussy.
"My pussy is on fire and your nice, big cock is turning me into a vat of lava," Jeanette responded, up-fucking her butt to match his pistoning prick. "Throw the meat into me, Ed," she squalled, lights blinding her as she exploded from ass-hole to the top of her head. "Fuck me fast and make my toes curl and my pussy smoke."
For a few minutes, the only sound in the house that was shrouded in heavy fog, was their breathing the slog-slog sound of his cock slugging into her avid cunt.
"I love the aroma of fucking," Jeanette gasped, sniffing loudly as she tilted her snatch to his plunging prick. "I always love to get my pussy banged without covers and with both of us naked. "I-sometimes-wish I could have my mouth on my pussy and the pecker I'm getting fucked with all at the same time."
They paused a moment, his cock half in and half out of her stretched twat, thinking they had heard a yell. They listened a few seconds and Ed resumed thumping his long sexpole into her up-tilted twat.
Hazily, Jean thought that Tom had probably corn-holed it into the relatively innocent Trina. But she was intent on her own frenzied turmoil and shook her sweaty snatch at his impaler. "Get with it-let's fuck like crazy and cum," she squealed.
She came again, hard, and looped a calf over his heaving buttocks. "Really pour your prick to me, Honey," she hummed softly, skyrockets blazing inside her each time his groin ground against her love mound. "Ooooohhhh, God," she crooned, rotating her shaking bottom as he pistoned his prick into her spasming cunt.
Their bellies smacked together in their combined sweat and his thudding prick made loud squishing noises as he pried it back and forth in her as he drummed cock into cunt. "Get your hands under my ass and push a thumb or finger in my hot ass-hole," she pleaded. "That always makes me cum hot and hard, too."
His prick seemed to grow harder and thicker and longer with each joust up her mind-blowing twat. "Aaaaaahhhh, yesssssss," she sighed lustily, feeling that her outer cuntal lips were becoming a big, fat donut around his plunging prick.
"Sock the cock to me," she whined, her senses reeling dizzily. "You're making a real storm in my pussy," Jeanette whimpered, her ass flying wildly as her pussy devoured his massive sausage. "Aaaaarrrggghhhh," she gargled as. he palmed her tense butt cheeks and pried them apart. "Yes ! In my butt hole, pleeeeeaaasssse ! Yiiiikkkkeeees," she squalled as he delved a finger into her rectum in a ruthless stab.
"Can you cummmmmm, now, Honnnnnnney?" she wheedled as she squeezed her fuck-muscles around his plunging, expanding prick
He slammed deep and the first spew of his jizz spattered her insides like a scalding stream from a long hose. Her middle heaved and the twin holes between her legs squeezed and milked on his prying finger and spraying prick.
"Heavenly," she breathed as he continued gushing her cunt full of his thick love-gravy. "I wish you could keep fucking my pussy and jizzing me 'til it absolutely runs over."
Jeanette sobbed softly as his gushing ebbed and she knew he was about to end their first session. "Let it soak in me for a little while," she smiled dreamily, her sphincters milking out the very last drop of thick jizz from his loving cock.
"How can I keep it hard for you, Ed? How long will it be before you can fuck me some more?" She loved his neck with both arms and let him slowly extract his prick from her clutching pussy. "Oooooo, I don't like this part a bit," she complained, "it feels so good."
"You're a terrific fuck, Jean," Ed groaned as he unwedged himself from between her long legs. Instantly, her hands groped for his soggy, still-rigid meat and squeezed. "Come with me to the bathroom," she purred, ogling his love-reddened hunk of twang.
As she sat on the stool, her hot, feverish pussy draining, she jacked him off with both hands and kissed the purplish end of his hot, hard dong. "Yuuummmmmmmy," she purred as she dabbled the tip of her tongue into the small, gaping slit. She O'ed her lips around the point and sucked with hungry, ravenous sounds. Her eyes danced merrily as she glanced up into his tense face.
"Aaaaaawwwwmmmmm, yuuuuummmm," she. crooned, closing her red lips behind the fat flange of the corona and sucked with fervent relish. "I can't take near all of it," she mumbled, pushing her face down on his rigid member, sucking her cheeks in against the lust-engorged giant.
One hand held his sac of nuts as the other caressed his slowly undulating butt as he helped, driving more and more of his massive prick into her throat as her mouth ravished him.
Her tongue remained active, slithering along the sensitive underside of his cock and she smiled mentally as she felt his thick meat. "My Gawd," Ed groaned, caressing her bare shoulders, fingers loving her neck.
"Mouth-fuck all you can," he pleaded, tone wheedling.
And Jeanette obliged, taking a deep breath, all but inhaling his monstrous, throbbing member. "Fabulous cock," she blubbered on his prodigious prick, blowing her breath into it.
"Shall we have a drink?" she murmured, letting his big prick slip from her kissing lips. She kept one hand on his hard joint as she lowered the lid. She got up on it and tugged his cock into her outwardly thrust hairy nest. "Let me squat down on it-Aaaaahhhhhh," she crooned as the thick head vanished inside her love-mouth. "Get your hands under my bottom so I can loop and lock my legs behind your back and you can mix the booze while I. sit on your wonderful dong, Ed."
Feeling stuffed full of prominent prick, she loved his neck as he carried her jostling, naked body into the dining area where he got the bottle of whiskey and the coffee pot.
"We can fuck all day, if we want," she giggled. "You can eat my pussy after we have a drink-you know, 69-while I go down on you again."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"How much did you bid for me?" Charlie guffawed as Sylvia led him through the fog and frosted weeds, into her house.
"Thirty-five," phe said brusquely, leading him to the kitchen where she mixed two hot toddies.
"Dollars?" Charlie whistled.
"Cents," she said flatly, handing him a steaming mug. "Come on with me," and she led him through the house to the bathroom. She removed the rope from his neck. "Take off all your clothes, Charlie."
"Whaaaaaaaaaaaat?" he scowled, hands automatically going to the buttons of his shirt.
"Something I've always wanted to try," she said softly, slipping out of the robe and baby dolls and turning on the water in the tub. "I've always wanted to see what it's like, getting fucked in a tub of hot water. Hurry up," she ordered, dropping his pant and shorts and grabbing his twitching cock.
Gingerly, still clinging to his rapidly inflating cock, she stepped into the steaming water. "You'll have to keep me from drowning," she giggled nervously, turning onto her back and positioning her feet on the rim of the tub. "Come on, get in and get your cunt-knocker in my greedy twat, Charlie."
"You're nuts," Charlie grinned, recovering from his astonishment. "I think all the dames in this project are wacky."
"Come on and get your cock in my famished cunt," she persisted, "so we'll know how much water to run. I don't want to flood the place and spend half my Saturday mopping water."
As he adjusted himself between her spread thighs, she guided the point of his sizzling cock into her golden thatch, through her hot gash, into her throbbing, pulsating entry.
"Gouge your cock into me," she breathed in a loud whisper. "Aaaaaaveeeee Mariaaaaaaa," she whimpered as he skewered her turbulent twat. "Worderfulllllllllll," she sighed wistfully, face screwed up as she concentrated. all her senses on. his invading prod. "I want you to fuck me into a cunt-cum, then ease it into my back hole eeeeeasy and corn-hole me into an ass-hole climax, Charlie."
When the water was within three or four inches of the rim of the tub, Charlie twisted around to shut it off. "I think my balls are being rendered down to little peanuts," he moaned, ogling her plump boobies as they bobbed on the surface of the steaming water.
"If you were a midget, you could suck my titties while you screw me into heaven," Sylvia hummed the tune of a dirty song the girls used to sing in high school. "Give me inches one-a hundred," she sang softly as he fucked slowly, the water sloshing around their entwined, naked bodies.
"Like fucking me in hot water, Charlie?" Sylvia purred swinging her crotch up to meet his harsh, inward thrust of cock.
"Different," he acknowledged, kissing her moist lips as he humped his prick far into her gripping pussy. "Yeah, I think this is the berries, fucking and bathing at the same time." He groped for her buttocks, backing his feet against the far end of the tub to hold them steady. "I think my balls are actually swelling instead of melting," he laughed, the tips of his fingers pressing her stretched cunt lips against his bludgeoning cunt-walloper.
"I'm reeeeeeally turned on," Sylvia whimpered, devouring his masterful dong with her suctioning cunt. "Bring me 'way out and fuck it to me, Chaaaaaaaarlie, she wailed.
Her wide open mouth sought his and she snaked her tongue into his lips, swizzling the tip against the roof. "Yeeeeeee gods," she mumbled as he sucked and chewed on her tongue.
For a second she wondered how Pearl was making out with the young minister, what she thought of a man with a shaved cock and balls.
She complied with Charlie's efforts and got her legs looped up over his shoulders. "Yeah, good," she agreed, "this really lets you fuck all your cock into my starving cunt." She winced, but didn't say anything in protest as he wedged two fingers into her anus. That'll get me ready to corn-hole, she mused.
"Aaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiieeeeeee," she screamed as he thumped his cock to her cunt and stretched her butt hole all out of shape. She orgasmed without warning and thought she was about to pass out, the sweet agony of her cum so violent and exquisite.
"Shove all of it up me hard," she pleaded reveling in the super joy of her watery fuck as he pressed the lips of her swollen vulva against his rampaging prick. Her bowels went wild as his fingers dipped deep and stretched her rectal channel.
"Can't you fuck me faster while I cum?" Sylvia pleaded, voice wheedling, almost delirious as she hung on a precipice of sheer carnal pleasure. "I wish you had two cocks and could corn-hole me at the same time you screw my pussy," she yelled frantically.
Her heels beat a tattoo on his hunching shoulders as he strived to drive his cock up past her navel, into her contorted mouth. Her fingers tangled in his thinning hair as he thumped the prick to her throbbing pussy. "I wonder if two guys could give it to a gal at the same time-one in the front, one cock in the back," she panted as her passion storm subsided.
She cringed as his cock slid out of her snatch and his fingertips guided it lower-right up her rear chute. "Give me a big lunge and slam your prick in my ass!" she yelled.
He skewered her ass-hole neatly, all the way to his sagging balls and Sylvia wailed with sheer ecstasy. His groin ground and grated against her swollen furrow and Venus mound. "Give me all your cock up the butt!" she whimpered, feeling her very guts were bloated with his lovely hard meat.
"Can you fuck and corn-hole me all day without losing your-our-lovely hard-on?" she sniffled as he rutted valiantly in her greedy gash.
"A long time," Charlie panted, "but when , I come off, I'll probably blow your guts out and you'll lose the top of your beautiful head."
"Don't promise if you can't deliver," Sylvia retorted, a lustful leer flicking across her sweet face. "Being corn-holed is a fabulous experience-almost as good as having a fine, big cock fucking my pussy."
"I think your butt hole is hotter and tighter than your cunt," Charlie gasped, diligently reaming out her fluttery bowels.
In a minute, he began pumping prick to her faster. "I'm gonna cum-can't hold back," he howled as if in misery.
"It's okay, Honey," she crooned. "You have your jollies in my ass and I'm gonna orgasm in the guts and my pussy right with you.
"COME ON-NOW ! Fuck it up my ass fast and deep! Eeeeeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiii!" she blasted her passion-bomb around his thrusting missile. Just as he unloaded a mighty dose of jizz in her butt.
His massive charge was like a flooding torrent that scalded her surging bowels. "Cornhole me deep and fast while you gush your jizz in me!" Sylvia bellowed as she seemed to fragment into a million pleasure pieces.
Charlie's sex torpedo continued devastating her rear passage for several minutes, squishing love-juice into her tormented rectum. "A good plan," she whimpered, thinking how all the women-and the men-would benefit from sexual variety.
Absently, she wondered if Tom was into Trina yet. She hoped the little redhead would maintain control over the well-hung stud. She wanted to inspect her husband afterwards and see where Trina's ring of lipstick was on Tom's dong-see how much cock she could actually gulp into her gullet.
Sylvia cried softly with disappointment as Charlie eased from her embrace, let her legs slide from his shoulders and slump into the cooling water of the tub. "Uh-uh-uh-uh," she moaned as she felt his thick prick retreat from her rectum.
With a momentary struggle, both of her holes still feeling as if they were corked, she came upright, facing him. His huge cock, red from its workout and the hot water appealed to her as a ludicrous periscope protruding from the water. With a quick smile, she clutched it with both hands, jacked him off roughly.
"Give me the soap," she said tersely.
"Why?" Charlie groaned, handing her a bar of Camay from the soap dish.
"I know I can blow it; I want to see if it can blow soap bubbles."
His balls splashed and rolled as she used both hands to beat his meat, hauling the foreskin way down, then rolling it up over the corona to hide the soapy glans.
"Jesus H-Christ," Charlie groaned, chin on his chest as he watched her flog his wonderfully rigid member. "Do you jack off Tom, Sylvia?"
"Hush," she breathed, irritated he should mention her husband. "I hope you don't jizz while I jack you off. You won't, will you?"
Her hands traveled faster and faster on his long, hard shaft, the lather increasing into a thick froth. "Be a way to get my pussy sparkling clean," she grinned, "soap your dong, then have you put it in me and fuck me."
"If you soaped my prick good and I corn-holed you, I bet you could fart and blow bubbles," Charlie proposed, scowling as he watched her hands whipping up and down his cock that was an angry red.
She released his dong, pushed it under the water. "Rinse it off-I'm tired jacking you off. Let's get dried and have a drink and think of how you can make my pussy happy again with your simply marvelous cunt-chunker."
They mixed fresh drinks and strolled around the living room, each admiring the nakedness of the other. "Want me to top-ride you in the middle of the floor?" Sylvia pouted, pausing to study his half-hard cock judiciously.
Sylvia posed before him, moved her arms out and up from her sides, lifting her jutting titties. Just looking at his pussy-massager, pronging out from its thick moss and his pair of heavy gonads caused delectably satisfying flutters deep in her womb. She tensed the muscles of her tunny, leaned back slightly and curved her mound to him.
"Goddamn, I like it," Charlie panted coming toward her like a sleepwalker. Without otherwise touching her, he bent and captured her open mouth, slicked his tongue in and took hers back in a groaning French-kiss. When they broke, he let his tongue lick over her chin, down her throat, then from the crown of one breast to the other.
"Fancy jugs," he breathed, curling his tongue around a nipple that seemed to snap to the tumescent point.
"Not a very imagine name," she laughed with appreciation, a hand going to the nape of his neck to hold his face steady as he sucked in a wad of turgid boobie-fruit. "That's nice; I like my titties loved, the nipples sucked and kissed and tongued."
She let her hand slide down his back to spank the hard, lean cheeks of his ass affectionately. Then her fingers drifted around between them and found his fully expanded sex-member. "You're all ready to screw again," she breathed, her passion ballooning 'til she barely could breath. "I could go down on you and you could eat my cunny," she proposed, writhing with ecstasy as he continued laving her hot titties with his tongue and lips.
Sylvia tugged on his stiff meat as if she would force it between her spraddled legs and trap it in her feverish pussy. But Charlie resisted her, circling her narrow waist with an arm and laying his palm flat over the twin half-moons of her enticing bottom. "I love it," she sighed harshly as he dipped a finger into the valley between the creamy hills and tickled it down and under, caressing the dark brown pucker that still tingled hotly from his masculine penetration.
The fever in her began soaring and she pulled harder on his dong, fingers and thumb gripping him behind the flange of the massive heady "Just fuck it between my legs," she begged as the knob slithered through her lips, past her steaming entry and out the back against her scorching ass-hole.
She hugged his shoulders and closed her sleek thighs against his slowly working cob of flesh. "Kind of nice," she whispered, her forehead lodged against his chest. "Now don't cum off and blast jizz all over the room and I don't have to climax, either," she purred. "I just like the lovely feel of your big prick sliding back and forth against my swollen pussy."
Clumsily, Charlie backed the naked young woman around until he could set their glasses on a table. "Yeeeesssssss," Sylvia panted, "Lay me out somewhere, Charlie, and give it to me again. You got me all hot and ready-fuck the cock to me."
She clung to him as he looped his arms around her, cupped the cheeks of her bottom and lifted her. She let her legs dangle in order to keep his prick pinned in her crotch. "On the floor, on the sofa, in the bedroom-just anywhere except out in a fog bank," she giggled with anticipation as Charlie waltzed around with her naked body cradled in his arms, his cock throbbing on the thick lips of her pussy.
She trembled violently all over as Charlie backed her to the sofa and let her down slowly, keeping her body glued to his. As soon as he leaned back, she reached between them and held his cock intact against the throbbing, puffy lips of her snatch.
She lofted her leg onto the back of the sofa and curled a calf across the crown of his buttocks. "You drive-and I'll steer," Sylvia trilled with new excitement as the passion was kindled into a raging inferno deep in her sex-volcano. She strained to arch her crotch upward as she forcefully chiseled the blunt head of his prick into her groove.
Feeling the fat bulb on the end of his prick against the soft, fluttering curtain guarding her cove, she said, "Up my twat in one big booooom," shaking her butt impatiently for his assault.
Instead, Charlie grasped her hips and gently forced his cock with the weight of his ass. "Ah-ahah-iiiiiiiiieeeeeeee, wonderful," Sylvia crooned as her outer cunt lips parted, the inner petals were crushed aside and the blunt head of his hard cock dented her.
Sylvia sensed she could actually feel the blending of their heat and passion, watched, hypnotically as the toes of the foot on the back of the sofa curled. The expanding of her flesh sent exquisite tremors through her loins. "Aaaaaiiikeee," she whooped as there was a yielding and the massive lump on the tip of his dick dipped inside her in a soft, audible "pop".
"Champagne," Sylvia chirped, "but you just corked my bottle, I think." Nerves twanged and muscles rippled along her thighs and across her tunny as he speared his prick into her. Resistance of her cuntal walls was firm, but yielded smoothly as his elegant cock bored farther and farther into her hot cavity.
"You won't cum for hours and hours will you, Charlie?" she wheedled, lofting her cunt to get his cock faster.
"You have such a hot, tempting pussy, I may not be able to hold off creaming your twat 'til I get it all socked away between your beautiful legs," he grunted, loving her tits with both hands as he labored and hunched his cock deeper into her golden cunny.
Sylvia took a deep breath, curled her other leg over his humping back. "Please don't jizz yet, but if you gotta, hit me quick with all the cock you got and squish your cum way up in my twat and keep fuckin' me 'til your well runs dry and your peter wilts."
Charlie laughed exultantly, hands sliding down her satiny sides to grip her trim waist. "Maybe I was only teasin' you," he chuckled, bracing his feet against an arm of the sofa and driving the remaining four or five inches of his prick into her pussy with a lustful lunge.
"Aaaaarrrrrgggggghhhhh," Sylvia warbled as she felt the thick outer lips of her twat hauled inside her cavern as they stuck to his thick, hot shaft. She felt with her fingers, the tips snaking through her matted moss to explore around the base of his cock that had her pinioned like a butterfly on a pin.
"Do you like fuckin' in daylight, like this?" Charlie panted, pulling his prick far out and plunging it back into her.
"I like fuckin' anytime," Sylvia challenged, up-tossing her cunt at his invading prick.
His sculpted column of flesh slid into her easily, but the walls of her cunt gripped it all the way, forming around the swollen ridges of blood veins. "I can feel your prick getting thicker and longer each time you hunch it to me," she gasped with mounting emotion. "But-pleeeeeeeasssssse don't cum off yet. I need a lot of cock fucked up my twat first, Charlie," she panted, rolling her snatch upward to smack her belly to his each time he plunged his prick deep into her pussy.
Charlie began snorting and huffing as he toiled. Each time he lunged his cock into her writhing body, he hoisted her body half off the sofa. His sac of goodie-nuts plopped smartly against her butt hole and the coarse hair on his scrotum tickled her sensitive crack.
The friction seemed to increase on the exterior of her snatch and Sylvia imagined or knew intuitively that the outer lips of her contorted vulva were bloating into thick slabs of carnal flesh.
She bit her lips and tongue to stifle any sound that might stimulate him to ejaculate when he thrust her over the edge of ecstasy and she seemed to tumble crazily through a void as her cum-gun boom-boomed deep in her womb, echoing in her sex-permeated brain.
"Giiiiiiiive me your cock fast and hard," she screamed suddenly, flinging her ass up at his plunging, pistoning, pummeling prick. And he goaded her appetite for fucking by pulling his prick out until only the head remained in her and hammering it back in, skidding off her cervix and slamming toward her womb.
Sylvia's whimperings were child-like as she felt an expanding and trembling all along the massive barrel of cock slamming into her. Her clit was fully out of its dainty sheath and was tingling maddeningly.
"Hurry now," she pleaded, rotating her snatch on his long spindle. "Give it to me deep and jizz me into heaven." Charlie grunted deep in his throat as he bored deep, his groin slamming her mound and the pressure agitating her hot little thorn.
She reached for him with her crotch as her snatch bubbled and boiled. The first spew of his cum sloshed deep in her innards. "Aaaawwwkkk," she squawked as the thick spray of semen gushed wildly into her ravaged pussy. Charlie wrestled his sweaty body between her splayed legs as he spewed his pleasure juice in frantic gushes, drowning her insides.
Sylvia wished she could reach his balls where they lolled against the flat crack of her ass. She would just squeeze and love them as her torrid cunny milked out every last liquid pearl of his thick, hot cream.
Slowly, he collapsed atop her, his chest mashing her breasts flat into fleshy blossoms. His hands, cupping her ass, held her crotch up to his imbedded prick so that she had every fraction of an inch buried in her body, way up between her cramped legs.
"Just fannnnnntastic," she sighed, kissing his cheek and blowing her warm breath in his ear. "Just one of the best fuckings I about ever had."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Trina was unsure how to proceed as she stood with the rope end in her hands and Tom Waltham's neck enclosed in the other. There was a flicker of disappointment in her mind as. she watched her husband being led away by Pearl Chaveau. Maybe she had hoped for some sign from Grant, but he had kept his hands in his pockets, head bowed and shuffled along behind the diminutive blonde.
She didn't want the others to see her indecision; but this business wasn't anything like with the young boy or even that old preacher from degree of confidence built in her and she thought of the bottle of vodka. In spite of the clinging chill moistness of the fog, a warmth surged through her belly, into her limbs. She wondered whether Tom Waltham suspected she was naked under the old robe except for the flimsy shortie nightgown that concealed nothing.
When she passed the paper tube, she noticed that Corky hadn't been around yet that morning. And one darned sure thing she didn't want was him barging in and catching her with Tom. So she urged Tom on into the living room, turned and locked the door.
Indeed, he seemed sleepy and grumpy, eyes dull and almost docile. Her eyes explored up and down his lean frame, dwelling just for a breath-taking moment on the prominent tenting down his left pants leg.
"Now what?" Tom grumbled. "I'll tell you for damned sure I don't like being led around on a leash: That damned Charlie is a stupid ass for going along with this-and I think I'm more stupid than he is."
Trina let the rope drop. "Take it off then-Tom," she murmured breathlessly. "Want a cup of coffee or something? I brought home that bottle.. from your place last night. Do you want a drink. I don't know how vodka is in coffee."
He shrugged as he loosened the noose and lifted it off over his head. "Hell, let's try it."
Trembling, she led the way toward the kitchen and the bottle still in its brown paper bag. She filled two coffee mugs half full and topped them with steaming coffee.
"After what I drank last night, I'll be drunk all over again after I drink this," he muttered, eyes searching for hers until she turned away.
"Yeah, me, too," Trina agreed, apprehension and excitement crackling along every nerve fiber in her lithe body. She stood at the back door, staring out into the ghostly fog.
"And what can a man do-even slave labor-when he's all shot full of booze and polluted," Tom made it a statement instead of a question.
Trina drew a deep, nervous breath, hoping her voice came out bold and positive. "You drink your drink then I want you to-eat me."
As she voiced it, there was a surge of intense heat deep between her legs and they wobbled weakly. She tensed when she heard his sharp inhaling of a deep breath.
"What the hell?" he slurred.
"Yes, That's right," she said quickly, setting the half-empty mug on the end of the cabinet and loosening the belt of the robe. She shrugged and let it slither off her shoulders, down her arms to the floor.
"Good Christ," Tom whispered hoarsely.
Trina shivered, sensing his eyes on her bare legs and on the curve of her buttocks. A vague feeling of sluttishness surfaced, but subsided as she flirtishly lifted the thin nightie so her butt was fully exposed. "Just take off your clothes, Tom, and make me feel good-I want to see you naked when you eat me."
She felt a chill of fright when he laughed harshly, coarsely. She let the nightie fall back and turned to face him, blinking away doubt from her eyes.
His slow grin almost infuriated her and she felt a flush of cheapness in her cheeks. Resolutely, she stepped toward him, trembling fingers undoing his belt and finding the tab of his zipper.
"You really mean it," he frowned, hands going to the buttons of his shirt. "My God, you got a imagine set of mams."
Trina gasped as she let his pants fall around his feet and his massive penis surged through the slit in his underwear. He reached for the snaps in the waistband with one hand and pushed the monstrous knob aside. She shivered when he reached for her, lifted the nightie from her vulnerable nudity.
"Where am I going to do this thing you want?" Tom asked softly, stepping out of his clothes, removing his shoes. His hands were hard and cool on her bare shoulders and Trina weaved toward him, gasping when the blunt point of his hard prick skated upward on her belly.
"Anywhere," she mumbled as he hugged her to him, his hard chest crushing her firm breast globes, his hands sailing down her back to palm the twin moons of her bottom. "In the bed-on the sofa-on the floor . . ." she whimpered, feeling the intense heat of his sturdy cock and heavy balls against her satiny skin.
"How about right here," Tom murmured, lifting her and balancing her on the edge of the cold dinette table. She sighed as he pushed her back. Her eyes held a haunting light as his gaze gloated over her nakedness with a frightening rapaciousness.
"Heeeeeeeey," she wheezed as he lifted her legs over his shoulders, baring her crotch and golden nest to his intent eyes.
"Heeeeeeeey is right," Tom chuckled, leaning between her tapering legs to kiss her belly, dip the tip of his tongue into the dimple of her navel.
"Aaaaaaaaiiiiiiii," Trina wailed softly, nerves afire with sweet pleasure.
"Sweet Jesus," Tom groaned, sucking her belly button.
Trina's body quavered and bucked and her breath came in blurted pants and gasps. She felt faint as his hot, wet tongue trailed from her tunny to flick around the dark tips of her twin mounds of succulent flesh.
Her arms curled around his head as he sucked in a great mouthful of tender flesh. "I like that," she whimpered with brazen delight, senses swirling as his tongue and lips paid homage to her unmatched twin delights.
She was aware of her bottom rolling and lifting, inviting his male ministerings. But he contented himself for the moment with laving and teasing and sucking her hot young titties.
Trina almost cried out as he finally left her spit-wet boobies and licked a hot trail down her body to nuzzle the rich fleece on her mound. Her ass shook and her body hunched with delectable anticipation. She caressed the top of his head and whimpered raggedly as his tongue darted into her dainty furrow and tickled her swollen clit that had speared out of its fleshy sheath. Her toes curled, heels drummed against his back as he licked downward slowly, across the flutter of her entry, all the way to her bulging anal pucker.
"Ooooooooohhhh, my gaaaaaaawd," she gasped as he licked back, this time his tongue dabbling at her fever-inundated front hole. Tears flooded her eyes and her white body was a wet blur as she lifted her head to stare between her opulent titties at the slow nod of his head as he licked and sucked her pussy.
Her lean, creamy thighs closed on his head, pressing his face to keep his lips and tongue trapped in her sweet-scented, steaming gash. "Just love that,'" she sighed softly, "Love having my pussy loved' with your tongue and mouth. Lick it all out and put your tongue in me as far as you can," she pleaded, rolling her bottom, her cunt-cove searching for his darting tongue.
Trina couldn't say whether she was rapidly losing control over Tom or whether he was assuming it. All she knew was that her entire being was rejoicing in the strong nuances of pleasure that rippled and surged through her pelvis, exploding violently in her turgid titties.
"Oh, help me ; Jesus Christ, do it to me-whatever you want to-just make me feel good and cum ! Ooooooooooohhh, Gawd, lick my cunny deep. Pleeeeeeeeeease? You can keep sucking my pussy or you can fuck your cock up me! But not in the ass-hole." She fought for breath. "Yeeeeeesssssss, you can even corn-hole me, if it will make me cum, tooooooooo."
A hard, silent explosion in her snatch, thunder in her womb brought a shrill, rafter-rattling scream from her throat. She gripped her titties and squeezed until it seemed the taut nipples would burst. Her feet kicked wildly as Tom augered his tongue deep into her liquid twat.
"Baby, I'm going up your snatch, up your ass and shove my cock down your throat and you're gonna suck and mouth-fuck me and gulp my jizz," Tom shouted with his face buried in her furry crevice.
"Oooooooohhhh, yessssssss, if you want to and want me to," Trina howled as she climaxed almost painfully around his snaking tongue. She lifted her ass and opened herself to let him dagger both thumbs into her rectum. "I looooooove it all," she shrieked as his thumbs swizzled in her bowels and his tongue delved into her hot, sweet honey-pot.
Trina nearly swooned with regret as the hot, sucking mouth left her tender slash. Her legs were raised, her ass lifted high. She tried to see what awaited her, but all that met her eye was the tremendous end of his male bludgeon.
"Get your hands down here and open your pussy-mouth wide," Tom grunted, rubbing the length of his dong over her fleecy love-mound.
Obediently, Trina ran her hands down the inner planes of her thighs, fingers spreading the thick, passion-glazed lips for his imminent invasion. She stared at the dark purple knob, a mixture of fretting she could take it and an eagerness to find out permeating her sex-dazed brain.
"Yes," she said softly, "go! Fuck it to me. All your huge cock."
She strained the thick petals apart and watched numbly as Tom adjusted his position, butt squirming back to permit the bulb of flesh to glide through her narrow sex-rut. "Oh, please hurry-but not so fast you split my little pussy," Trina pleaded, flinching with pleasure as the smooth-skinned knob of his rod skated against her distended passion-thorn.
Her ass-hole quivered as he wobbled the bulb of his big prick against her cunt-cavern. A surge of heat flooded through her as he pushed and she felt a caving in it as he increased the pressure along the length of his monstrous prick. She pressed the outer leaves of her vulva to her trembling thighs, concentrating on the heavenly wonder of a massive hunk of meat and gristle starting to invade her aching cunt.
"Shove it harder," Trina groaned, ass-hole fluttering as he pried and levered cock at her vulnerable tunny. A sweet dizziness obsessed her mind and she imagined a creaking of her bones as he pressed forward. A searing heat burned in her distorted vulva.
"Aaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiieeeeee," she squalled as the vast knob of his cock popped inside her. Still, she kept her hands between her legs, holding her gash wide open. She raised her anguished face to stare at the spar of sex-meat lodged between her widely fanned thighs.
The sensation of stretching was a combination of torment and delicious ecstasy as Tom slowly worked inch after inch of hard, thick cock into her voluptuous snatch. "I feeeeeeeeel your cock going up my tunny," Trina warbled breathlessly, rolling her hips to facilitate his steady penetration.
He rammed hard, punching three inches of massive cock into her yielding hole and Trina screamed as her insides were expanded to accommodate his prodigious prick. As Tom steadily planted his prick in her pussy, Trina let the thick outer lips of her cunt collapse against the invading shaft and pressed her thumbs into the massive column of hard flesh.
She shook and rotated her ass slowly, reveling in the exquisiteness of having a real man grind his cock far into her contracting cunt. The blood veins were livid and ridged in the alabaster column, like sculpted ivory. All her insides seemed alive and afire as her sphincter muscles strained and coiled around his monstrous member.
Trina let her head loll back on the formica top of the kitchen table as his cock seemed to be pushing her bowels out through her back hole. She never in her life had imagined she would ever see such a huge dilatory hunk of man-meat, yet here she was, lying on the table taking not less than a foot and at least two pounds of monstrous cock into her contorted cunt.
She curled her fingers around the great tusk, only taking her hand away when her fist was wadded against his groin and her O'ed cuntal lips. "Drill all the rest in me," she begged, taking a deep breath, her belly heaving as he levered his cock into her.
Trina fanned her knees, letting them slip from Tom's shoulders. She swooped her feet high and far apart so he could imbed every last fraction of an inch of his huge cock in her supple body.
Just having him drill his cock into her was so exquisite she wondered how she could possibly stand it when he finally began sliding it in and out of her. Would she go absolutely wild and crazy when he began fuuuuuuuucking her with long, passionate, emotion-kindling, erotic prick-strokes?
Before she could contemplate further, her body filmed with sweat that turned her skin golden; Tom turned beastly-and started pulling his marvelous tool of enchantment from her expanded orifice.
"Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah, nooooooooooooo," she gasped with desperate regret. Until he chugged it back into her body with a mighty rush. "Ah-ah-ah-ahah, yeeeeeeeeesssssssss," she sighed loudly, lifting her head so he could hug her neck with both of his hard-muscled arms.
He hammered his cock into her, withdrew it 'til only the head remained immersed in her gaping snatch, and hammered it back in again. He hugged her so strongly, her body seemed wadded up under him as he assaulted her snatch with increasing fervor, his hard, fuzz-covered groin slamming into the soft, mesh-adorned golden pillow of her womanhood.
Trina blasted into a violent orgasm, her cunt muscles churning furiously around his pistoning prick. Her mouth opened wide to emit a piercing scream. Her hands seized her legs just behind the knees and she hugged them back toward her head to offer him a completely unobstructed shot at her roiling snatch.
Tom slammed the meat to her faster and faster in loud, thudding wallops of cock into cunt. His lust-loaded nuts smacked her exposed bottom, inciting excitement in her anus. Gradually, he released her shoulders and his hands glided down her shoulders and his hands glided down her frail body to hold her hips.
Her eyes widened questioningly as he fought off climaxing, slowed, then stopped his strokes. "Whhhhhhaaaaaatttttt?" She whimpered as he inched his cock from her fiery cavern. She could feel the wet, burning head of his dong slip out of her and sag into her uptilted crack. "Nooooo!" she cried shrilly.
Too late.
He jockeyed the knob of his bludgeon into place and thrust with his hips. Trina imagined a tearing of her flesh as the massive plum popped into her rectum. Her squall of protest was muffled by his mouth covering hers. Still, she kept her legs pulled back, knees wide, giving him her ass-hole.
His huge prick set her afire, but it scissored into her cleanly. The shafting was slow and . steady, expanding her rear passage, socking the great knob away deep in her clutching, searing bowels.
A delicious euphoria of pleasure quickly inundated her sweaty body when he ground his hair-matted groin against her recently gored pussy. The grinding of flesh against her distended clitoris sent her into a wild orgasm that seemed to shatter all of her senses.
Especially tantalizing was the slow slippery-slide of his monstrous prick in and out of her tortured butt hole. Trina squalled plaintively as he established a steady rhythm of ass-hole fucking her. Her cunny boom-boomed repeatedly as he drummed his cock into her anus.
She wondered dizzily how being corn-holed could be so ecstatic. Fuzzily, she wondered whether getting a load of jizz in the guts would be as exhilarating as having it sprayed wantonly in her scalding snatch.
Trina thought she hazily remembered Sylvia saying that Tom was a real ass-hole artist and she could hardly wait for him to get his spray gun in operation. Just as she began wondering whether he could pump his prick in and out of her ass for hours, she felt a fantastic expansion along the barrel of his cannon and he slam-banged deep.
She moaned with ecstasy just as the knob grew to an immense site and he unleashed a flood of cum far up in her rectum. His hard groin crushed the blossom of her pussy, ground her little fun-nub into crashing fireworks.
"Heavenly," she sighed, clenching her ass-hole around his gushing gun. Slowly, she let her hands relax and her legs slowly collapsed, dangling from the table. She thought she would have flowed right onto the floor if he hadn't kept her anus impaled with his massive prick.
She stared resentfully at his smug expression as he straightened, keeping his enormous cock skewered into her butt, jizzing her insides freely with great blasts of pearly cream.
As he slowly retreated, she glared at him fearfully. "No, don't," she whined, "keep cornholing me a little while longer?"
But Tom slowly snaked his massive hard-on from her body and pushed her onto the table. Her head turned as her eyes followed his movement around the table. Without hesitation, he flopped her over on her front. Taking her arm-pits, he skidded Her across the table. Trina lifted her head and stared at his well-greased cock just inches from her helpless face.
Whether in defense-or desire, she didn't know. But she reached for him and took his monstrous stem at the base. "No," she complained.
"Suck," he commanded.
She peered at his impassive face, opened her mouth and let him thrust the head of his cock into her mouth. Instantly, her lips closed behind the corona and she sucked her cheeks in against it.
Timidly, her tongue began working around the enlarged glans and she swallowed to accommodate the insistent hunching of his cock into her face, the knob into her throat.
"Eat and suck and swallow my prick," Tom grunted, his ass bucking the giant sex-prod into her gullet.
Trina got her elbows braced on the top of the table and let her hands slip to cuddle his swollen eggs. Her jaws ached at the hinges as she steadily absorbed the full length of his immense tool.
As soon as he began fucking her mouth, she let her teeth scrape from the tip of his cock back along the shaft. Tom whimpered harshly in mild protest-and fucked her face faster and faster.
Trina squeezed his balls and sucked loudly, taking him all the way, letting him shoot his second load of jizz far into her gullet. "Suck my cock hard," he wailed.
You just fuck and I'll do the cock-sucking, she thought happily.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Pearl led Grant through the fog, in the back door, on through the house to the master bedroom. As she peeled the bed down to the contour sheet, she ordered, "Take off your shirt. Do you have to use the bathroom?"
She turned, hands on hips, smoothing the dressing gown over the curves of her body. "No? That's good. Go ahead, take off your shirt."
The little blonde grinned and shook her head when he asked dully if they were going to start out by flopping the mattress. "Not in the way you have in mind, Honey. Get your shirt off. Gonna be some hot, sweaty work ahead of you. We aren't gonna flop the mattress; we're gonna flop on it and beat the heck out of it."
She tugged on the rope and pushed him to sitting on the edge of the bed. "Off with the shoes and socksies, Mr. Preacher-man." And she knelt and removed them.
Before he could muster his wits, she pushed him back across the bed, leaned over him and secured the leash rope to tubing in the old-fashioned brass bedstead. From under a pillow she took other lengths of rope with prepared slip loops and quickly secured his arms, stretching them out from his shoulders.
"I don't understand, Mrs. Chaveau," Grant muttered, a tone of alarm and embarrassment in his slightly high-pitched voice.
For a minute Pearl surveyed him, then deftly slipped the button in the waistband of his khaki trousers. The zipper skipped easily in spite of his clumsy kick to defend himself. "Just want to check your sermon and two apostles," she smirked, parting the fly and unsnapping his boxer shorts, opening them.
They were right, she gloated mentally, eyes dancing, they had shaved him !
Grant struggled, flopping back and forth on the bed and kicking. He gasped as the noose choked off his breathing. His feet kicked out straight, his legs quivered.
"Be a good boy," Pearl chirped, stepping around the foot of the bed and seizing the bottoms of the legs of his pants. She tugged hard, but his clothes wouldn't budge until he again kicked at her ineffectively. When his pants slid from his hips they also dragged his shorts along with him.
"Oh, my God, you depraved thing, you," Grant whined, the muscles bulging in his arms and across his chest. "Worse than those other two."
"Ooooooooohhhh, you bet," Pearl chortled, getting him stark naked and ogling his male nudity. "Enchanting-a man with no pubic brush. You're all meat and I hope a foot long." She gathered up the other two pieces of clothesline and captured his ankles after a brief tussle, securing them to the foot legs of the bedstead. He panted harshly and she tenderly. loosened the loop around his throat. "I don't want you to choke or smother on anything except my hair-pie," she muttered.
She frowned at his shriveled penis and shrunken gonads. She shrugged out of the robe and lifted her bared titties with both hands. "Bet I can remedy your slack condition, Grant," she twinkled at him, bursting into pleased laughter as his eyes bulged, his gaze flicking from her twin mountain peaks to her platinum-thatched mound.
With her boobies bobbing and floating firmly, she crawled onto the bed with him, caught his face in both hands and plastered her mouth over his gaping, lax lips. "Uuuuuuuummmmmm," she purred, rubbing her tingling breasts against his almost hairless chest.
He growled deep in his throat and squirmed under her. "I wouldn't struggle so," she chided him, "I don't want you to choke and get a nasty rope burn on your neck. Don't fight it, Honey; cooperate and enjoy it."
Pearl groped for his crotch and his body buckled and bucked when her cool hand flickered across his genitals. "I think you're gonna have a nice basket of goodies for Pearl," she cooed, dashing her tongue far into his gaping mouth.
She was encouraged when his lips began working timidly; his teeth nibbled gently; his tongue explored hesitantly into her hungry mouth. "Yaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh," she purred, passion burgeoning in her bosom. She gnawed wickedly on his slithering tongue and sucked his lips into her suctioning mouth.
Her hand groped again, fingers circling rubberiness. "Wheeeeeee," she exhaled into his throat as she felt a growth of heat and a twitching in his sexual meat. She pinched her fingers around his slowly responding dong and stroked it gently, feeling the sandpapery scratch of beard where he had been shaved.
She maneuvered her body so she could trap his leg between her thighs and rode her feverish, puffy crotch against him. Sparks of wild fire showered through her loins and she rubbed her pussy harder against his muscular thigh. She held his lengthening prick upward over his belly and rubbed the unskinned head against her flank. His shorn balls overflowed her hand and she let them part, concentrating on paying finger adulation to one fat nut, then the other.
His nude body undulated under her and she flattened her opulent titties against his heaving chest. "Get hot and hard, Grant," she breathed as erotic ambition flooded her emotions. "I'll top-ride you and show you how much fun you miss when you only fuck your cute wife about once a month." She rubbed her wet vulva against his leg and smeared her cunny juices over his leg and throughout her famished crotch.
The flabbiness was leaving his peter and it was stiffening, growing into a long, thick column of marble flesh, seeming that much longer as it extended from a hairless groin. "We're gonna have a marvelous time, fucking and eating each other," Pearl crooned softly as their tongues clashed excitingly in their glued-together mouths.
Grant groaned loudly and Pearl broke the passionate kiss and leaned away to study his tormented face. His eyes fumbled around vacantly ; his mouth twitched as she clamped down roughly on his box of jewels, caressed the full length of his throbbing dong.
"You got too nice a prick to keep zipped in your pants," she panted, jacking him off demandingly, milking a clear drop of oil from the slit in the tip of his pecker. She braced herself companionably beside him on the bed and studied his white sex-meat as her hand slowly flogged him to full erection.
"Just beautiful," she marveled, eyes unblinking on his long post of flesh that seemed even more immense because his belly and balls and crotch were completely bereft of kinky hair. With her free hand, she caressed his groin and his butt lurched as her fingertips tickled the very faint beard stubble all around his long, velvety stump of meat.
"So long and hot and silky," Pearl purred, rubbing her flushed titties against his chest. Her passion flowered and she squirmed atop him, molding her soft curves to his solid, muscular torso. She stretched her legs along his and cooed softly, his long, hard cock like a torch pressed between their naked bodies.
Gradually, she began sliding her body back and forth over his in a form of dry-fucking him. A tormented moaning escaped her open mouth as his thick gristle rubbed back and forth over her furred mound. "Ooooooohhhhh, God, and I got you all day for fucking and sucking-whatever I want."
Then her ears tuned to his voice and she realized he was praying. Her lust reached a fever pitch when he began reciting the 23rd Psalm and she slid her feverish body downward until the wet head of his prick nudged under her chin.
She raised herself to a frog position and peered at the long, stiffness of his milk white penis with the fine blue blood veins. With both hands, she raised his long stick of flesh and flexed the fingers of both hands around it, gently jacking him off.
"Just lovely long hunk of cock," she crooned, adjusting her position to control her balance. Lovingly, she pressed her hot, creamy breasts in against it, trapping his shaft in the compressed valley.
Grant had stopped praying and his head was up and he was staring at the dark knob of his prick protruding from between her voluptuous globes. "Buck your butt up and down," Pearl panted, "Like you're fucking-and you will be-fucking your marvelous prick between my titties."
She held her breasts against and around his hefty barrel and lowered her head, opened her mouth and licked her raspy tongue across the underside of the flushed glans. His hips lurched and the motion caused his rod to piston back and forth between her velvety mounds. "Wonderful," she breathed, her tongue flicking the slick head each time he hunched upward.
Pearl shuffled back a little to get the fleshy fruits against the base of his prong. And the head loomed before her face. Grant moaned in torment and Pearl captured the fullness of the head of his cock in her lips, sucking hungrily.
She found she could hold his cock between her titties and also fondle his husky balls, pressing them upward into the under surfaces of her boobies. She smacked her lips noisily as she savored the plum on the end of his long stump.
Each time she sucked on his cock, Grant groaned with a mixture of agony and sexual pleasure. Thus encouraged, Pearl crooked her neck to absorb more of his thick pecker in her suctioning mouth.
"You-like-fucking your-nice-cock between-my tits and fucking-me-in-the mouth?" she blubbered, gasping and squirming between his trussed legs. Saliva escaped her mouth and drizzled down his shaft, becoming a hot, sweet lubricant between her firm breasts.
For a time, she left off sucking the head of his cock and concentrated on masturbating him with them. When she felt a flexing along the huge barrel, she quickly recaptured the fat bulb and swirled her tongue around it.
With a tormented moan, Grant came off violently, shooting a torrid, sticky stream of cum into Pearl's mouth, down her vacuuming throat. She "Yum-yum-yummed" happily, gluttonously, savoring each spew of semen as it flooded from the big "I" in the tip of his prick.
At the height of his ejaculation, she released her tits from around his cock and slowly devoured it, inch by inch. Her back bowed and she stretched her neck so that the massive shaft would spear into her gullet so her swallow muscles could milk out every drop of his sweet sex-cream.
He whimpered like a little boy-and tried to drive all of his massive prick into her eager face. "I love cock," Pearl gulped, mouth-fucking him vigorously, at last forcing all of his prick she could take into her gullet.
Finally, she slipped from the bed and stood drooling over her conquest. "Don't go soft," she admonished, "and I'll bring us a bottle."
She ran naked through the house and back with half a bottle of bourbon. She took a swig and held his head, forcing the young minister to swallow nearly a measuring cup full. She watched his eyes roll accusingly, laughed and flounced onto the bed to pick up his half-wilted length of meat.
Quickly, she flogged him back to full erection with both hands, goading him by loving his heavy balls and doodling a finger against his tensed anus. Grant's balls throbbed in her right hand , and his pecker stiffened and expanded into an admirable sex specimen.
"Did you like the way I gave you a blow-job?" Pearl chortled, leaning over him, rubbing her left tit against his right flank and blowing her hot breath on the angry redness of the knob of his prick. Grant didn't answer.
"Ooooooooooohhhhh, Jesus, I love cock," Pearl whined, jacking him off slowly. "And I think I love your magnificent prick-with no hair around it-as good as any I ever ate."
Grant hiccupped and his body undulated as she brought him all the way out. When his hips bucked in time with her masturbation efforts, she peered at his face. Flushed and pinched.
"Ready to have Pearl top-ride-fuck you now, Honey?" she muttered, her cunt long-ready for masterful punching. She swung her supple body astride him, raised her straddle as high as she could by standing on her knees. She pursed her kinky fleece flat and lifted his heavy cock.
"Oooooooohhhh, you just watch, Honey, what Pearl is going to do with your cock-and for us both," she gasped, using one hand to shove apart the passion-bloated lips of her pussy.
"Aaaaaaaiiiiiieeeeee," she groaned with shrill ecstasy as the firm knob rubbed against her distended clitoris. "Now down through the groove and heading for home," she panted, maneuvering her body, rotating her hips, hunching her butt and getting the point of his prick where she wanted and needed it.
"Watch Pearl's fuck-mouth devour your hot, white meat," she smirked, eyes on his face, his eyes riveted to his long dong held upright between her tensed thighs.
Pearl's back bowed as she brought her crotch down slowly, impaling her vagina on just the head of his spear. "Ooooohhhhhh, soooooooo damned, fuckin' good," she whined, rotating her butt and twisting her snatch on his massive harpoon.
Her arms floated up and away from her body. Her head swayed backward and she whined softly. Her body began a sort of undulating snake dance as she slowly thrust down onto his trapped prick.
Grant's eyes were glazed as he watched his long shaft vanish slowly through the thick outer lips of her snatch. His hips bucked intuitively to hasten the delectable penetration of her fragile, curvaceous body.
"Love my tunny taking your cock, huh?" Pearl crooned.
Pearl joggled her body, set her enticing chest balloons to jiggling as she caressed her tunny with one hand, fingers gouging, trying to feel his mammoth tusk invading her through the hot hole between her trim, trembling legs.
Delicately, she felt around his goring tusk of flesh, delighting in the sensual sensation of her thick outer lips suckling around the rigid barrel of his cock. "Don't you want to help me-us?" she wailed softly, grinding her body down on his lust-engorged cunt-popper.
She smiled when his ass hunched his cock upward experimentally, dobbing an inch or so of his pussy-stretching prick into her vibrating cranny. "Sooooooo goooooood, huh?" she smiled, her entire body flushed a pretty pink with wanton need.
He didn't reply, but let his head flop back on the pillow. But as soon as she began grinding and rotating her pelvis, twisting her snatch around his pulsating shaft, his face came up again to watch her absorb the last couple of inches. He could see his prick go in her quite clearly without the mesh of obscuring pubic hair.
At last, her snatch had him all, her love mound rested snugly against his bare groin. Her spread buttocks molded against his upper thighs. "Yiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeee," Pearl yelped, rubbing back and forth, forcing his massive prick to lever back and forth in her, stretching and caressing the lust-inflamed walls of her cunny.
She leaned over him and lifted her body from his love-spit. Almost instantly, his middle buckled to drive his cock back into her twat. "Yeeeessss," she purred, "you got lots of rope slack to participate in our fucking." She again lifted her bottom so his cock could slip out of her snug orifice. She smiled when his middle hunched upward as she wiggled her cunt back down on his long, slippery pole.
Pearl sniffed loudly, inhaling the pungent aroma of cock and cunt stewing together. "I have always liked the perfume of male and female mixed in bed," she sighed, her ass working back and forth at the same time she up-and-down fucked her ass.
She sawed her feverish crotch back and forth on his prick to increase the friction of her sphincters on his pistoning rod. Grant moaned and she fucked her body faster on his passion-oiled member. "Let yourself go," she pleaded, "hunch your hips fast and high off the bed and really drive your wonderful prick up into me when I slam my pussy down on it."
Her hands caressed his chest as they found a mutual rhythm of cunt taking cock and cock invading cunt. "You're getting good," she complimented, letting her butt fly as her cunny suckled his male teat. "Do you realize how good your prick is? 'Bout the longest and thickest I ever did have sticking my pussy. I bet it's so long, it gouges way up in my belly."
The only sound in the fog-shrouded house was their wanton gasps of lust-pleasure and the sweet, sodden meaty sound of cock hammering into cunt.
Pearl began screaming when her gun went off and continued all through her five-minute orgasm. "Later," she gasped weakly, "I'm gonna have a corn-hole-cum." And when she said later her mind was on when the fog lifted too.
