It is a sad, and yet embarrassingly true fact, that despite the technological advances of our society, despite the new levels achieved in education and modern personal freedom, there are still great numbers of our fellow citizens who have not escaped the twisting fetters of a medieval concept of morality and sexuality. As a nation, and as individuals, we sometimes pride ourselves on what we call a "new freedom", or a "new sexuality", and fail to realize that what is for most of us a paradise of individual choice, unhindered by traditional and worn-out taboos, is to a great many people simply another link in the chains that secure them to their inhibited concepts of right and wrong.
Lawson Collins, in his brilliant new work, Marilyn's Dog, examines with great care and, we believe, sincere compassion, the plight of one particular example of this inability to shed an outmoded sexual consciousness. With the vision and acumen of a true artist, Mr. Collins gives us the tender and intriguing portrait of Lisa Andrews, a young woman whose sensual and natural instincts come into violent conflict with the dictates of her moral conscience. She is the representation of countless women in our society today, women who have had, or will have, the traumatic experiences of rape, divorce, seduction, and perversion enter their lives with terrifying intensity. Hers is the story of how one woman, in order to rise above the limitations of a misguided concept of human sexuality, must first drag herself through the swamps of physical and mental degradation.
And yet, Marilyn's Dog is not simply an examination of one desperate and heroic individual. It is the picture of an age, a mirror held up to contemporary society. It is the sometimes brutal, sometimes perverse reflection of some of the more sordid sides of our lives, and the individuals who we all know exist in our lives. True, Mr. Collins' concern is with the blacker side of our society, but he cannot be faulted for that. For while his study is of necessity limited, it is not inaccurate: We invite you to judge for yourself whether or not the characters in this fascinating narrative are as real and vibrant as we believe.
The obese Kurt Mertz, the strangely alluring Marilyn Drew and her constant canine companion, the schemingly seductive Cortlands, husband and wife: These are all true-to-life characters which, we are confident, will long live in your memory. They are more than the setting in which Lisa Andrews acts out her desperate struggle for a new maturity. They are warnings for us all: Sometimes deceptively charming, always capable of the worse kind of mental torture they are the stuff of which nightmares are made.
We are confident that you will be as impressed by this profound and exciting novel as we are. It is without exaggeration that we say that Mr. Collins' new work is worthy of the closest study and thought. It is a heart-rending and yet heart-warming testament to one person's tenacity. It is, or should become, one of the classics of modern adult fiction.
-The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
Lisa Andrews woke up slowly, her consciousness only reluctantly leaving the realm of dreams to face another hot New York summer morning. With an enticing feline stretch, she reached out reflexively to the other side of the double bed, and then opened her eyes with a start. Quickly she swung her legs off the bed, and then let her head drop slowly in resignation.
When would she stop doing that, she asked herself miserably: Reaching out for a man who was no longer there? Mark had been gone eighteen months, and still she was continually reaching for him in her sleep, dreaming about him, awakening with his name on her lips. She couldn't stop wondering where he was, whether he was all right; and yes, whether he'd found another girl to take her place.
We've been separated ... divorced ... almost two years. Good Lord, is it possible? Lisa thought to herself unhappily.
The lovely young girl rose from her bed naked, her long blonde hair an entangled mess from her night of fitful rolling and tossing. She crossed the room to her vanity, her perfectly rounded buttocks quivering slightly with the movement, and ran a brush through her silken honey-colored tresses. The raising of her arms lifted her proudly up-thrust breasts to a regal state, their rose-tipped nipples distending sensitively as she watched in the mirror before her. Strange, she meditated, how the mere thought of Mark could arouse her this way, yet when they had been together she had invariably frozen up.
Subconsciously, she noted her slender waist and the way it flared into roundly attractive hips. Her shape pleased her. Her stomach was flat and smooth as it should be, and her thighs were long and satiny, her calves tapering admirably into thin and well-formed ankles. There was nothing fraudulent about her body, she thought proudly: No pads necessary, no defacing blemishes, and the soft golden down that sparsely covered her vaginal mound denoted her natural complexion. The term "divorcee" did not fit her, she thought bitterly.
She picked up her robe, slipping into it, then looked again into the mirror. Her eyes were swollen and puffy from her sleepless night, and she poked at the little bags beneath them irritably with a long slender finger.
I ... I wonder if he ever thinks of me, Lisa thought to herself sadly, and then immediately reproached herself for thinking again of her husband. There was no use doing that, she told herself for the millionth time, it was just a kind of self-torment to continue thinking about the past, about what used to be and could never be again.
She tossed down her brush and went to the bedroom window to greet a typically hot and smoggy New York summer's morning. It was 6:30; she'd hoped she might get some writing accomplished, if only a page or so, before the temperature reached the unbearable point in the little apartment, but she was in such a hellish, downcast mood. The stupid manager hadn't repaired her air-conditioning unit as yet, and she doubted that it would be done today. She sighed in resignation. It was going to be a miserable day.
Turning from the window, Lisa made her way through the living room to her small kitchenette, vowing as she always did at that time of the morning to find another place that was something less of a dump. She'd moved into her present apartment immediately after she'd been divorced, and had just not gotten either the strength or the funds together since then to move. As for finances, she just barely managed to eke out a living on the meager proceeds she received from writing an occasional magazine article or grant prospectus, in between work on her first novel. This, combined with the scanty alimony check she received from Mark each month, was just barely enough to sustain her, much less to enable her to move into another place. And as for strength: To move even four blocks in New York City required not only diligent planning, but the courage and stamina of a thoroughbred. These days, Lisa had neither.
She spooned some dehydrated coffee powder into a cup and drew hot water from the tap. Why hadn't Kurt Mertz contacted her? She had given him her manuscript over a week ago, and he was to call and give her his evaluation the moment he finished reading it. He'd seemed more than just a little anxious to be of service, but, of course, his enthusiasm hadn't fooled her. She had felt his little fish eyes raking her lushly ripened body up and down, had almost sensed his fat, sweaty hands touching her cringing flesh a half dozen times when they had ridden up on the elevator together. But that was before she had learned he was a literary agent and had gotten up the courage to approach him.
"Why, I had no idea you wrote, Miss Andrews," he had said, drenching her in his jowly grin and wiping perspiration from his nakedly fringed pate. "Imagine that, a writer and an agent living in the same building..."
Some phenomenon, Lisa mused, dropping into a living room chair, her robe falling partially open to reveal the tanned golden flesh of one smoothly rounded thigh. All the same, she hadn't told him of the half-dozen rejections her novel had brought her so far, only of her scant, now-and-then magazine credits, implying that she made her living at it. Well, she hadn't really lied about that; it was her only earned income, even though she always had her teaching credential that she could rely on. Her ambition as far back as she could remember had been to write, and teaching had never been more than something to fall back on, in case the need should ever arise. So far it hadn't, but there had been many discouraging days after Mark had gone and before she'd reconciled herself to the divorce. Now she was determined, by hook or by crook, and she was beginning to believe that one more often made it by "crook" rather than ability.
How many times had Mark said, It isn't what you know, honey, it's who you know.
Dammit, there she went again. Mark, Mark, Mark! He haunted her sleep and tortured her when she was awake. Her brain reeked with his memory! Damn him to hell, anyway! She bolted to her feet and went to the cupboard for a half-emptied bottle of bourbon. She was going to need something this day and there was no question about that. She spiked her coffee stiffly, watching through watery eyes, then drank half of it, feeling it burn all the way down into her belly. She went back to her chair and fell into it, wiping at her eyes as small tears formed in the corners.
She could curse him all she liked, she thought, biting at her perpetually pouting lower lip, but it hadn't been all his fault had it? Lisa knew that if it hadn't been for her insane frigidity, they would be together at this moment!
The young divorcee tried to open her mind, tried to admit to herself as she so often did, that the break-up of their marriage had rested in large part with her, and with her own sexual inadequacies. As she sat gripping her coffee and bourbon, Lisa forced herself to look back once again, to gaze back objectively on the first memories of her relationship with the handsome Mark Andrews.
She could still picture those balmy summer nights when they'd first gone together how for two whole years she'd teased and taunted him with her sensually alluring body, wanting him as badly as he did her, leading him on to that near impossible stopping point, until he would be almost out of his mind with desire. And then, her morals would gurgle up into her throat, the molten transmutation of a too strict upbringing, and in horrified repugnance she would fend him off. And only because he'd loved her and respected her, had he reluctantly given in.
Oh God, it was inevitable! The young blonde girl realized that now, and had for a long time. It was following a dance and they'd both had too much to drink. Graduation was only a month away and they planned to be married the week after. Already, Mark had a place in a small office of investment brokers who were handling some fairly big accounts. It was a magnificent start for him, and Lisa would be able to write. They'd both been so happy; had thought or talked of nothing else but their life together and the home they were going to design and build. Lisa smiled softly to herself as she remembered.
That night they had gone to their usual secluded parking place, climbing into the back seat where there was more room for their limited nature of love-games. They'd never gone all the way, but with each passing night it became more difficult for her to control him, especially with her own passion and need just about driving her wild. Things had been getting further out of hand at every session, and probably if it hadn't been for her over scrupulous determination to bring her virginity to their marriage bed she would've long before given in to him. Their friends were all physically enjoying each other to the fullest, they both knew, and that hadn't helped matters. He constantly badgered her with that fact until finally she had conceded to the gentle caresses of his hands beneath her blouse, undoing her brassiere and handling her naked breasts, kneading and massaging them into a vibrantly hard-nippled throbbing, setting her whole love-starved body aflame with desire.
Perhaps it was what they had drunk that night, rather than the amount, or maybe it was just inevitable. But suddenly, as he took her left breast into his warm eager mouth, his lips encompassing the entire crinkling areola, his tongue playing maddeningly about her erectly throbbing nipple, Lisa was so out of her mind with the bliss of the moment that his warm hand creeping up the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs had seemed a necessary part of her mindless rapture.
"Oh, Mark, darling ... no, no we can't do this, my sweet," she gasped into his ear, her fingers running through his hair, pressing his face and tantalizingly sucking mouth tight up against her naked breast. She squirmed beneath his hot hand caressing her thighs, his fingers moving ever upward and over her eagerly quivering belly, then down to stroke the nylon covered softness of her moistening pubic mound, until she had actually whimpered aloud from the shock and sensation of his nimble fingers slipping inside the tight elastic leg band of her panties to insinuate themselves into the wetly waiting slit of her virginal little cunt.
Even now Lisa shivered excitedly as she remembered the unbelievably titillating spasms that raced through her from the first galvanic contact of his finger with the sensitive flesh of her untouched vagina. The never-before feelings of pleasure had rendered her momentarily helpless, and she had writhed almost frantically beneath his insistent ministrations.
"Mark ... Mark ... we mustn't, darling..." she had pleaded, suddenly aware that all sense of control was getting away from both of them.
"Why...? Why...? " he moaned, moving his finger upward between the fleshy lips of her hair-lined pussy, tracing through the warm pink flesh to the tiny bud of her sensitive clitoris and teasing it into immediate hardness.
"Oooooohhhhh, God, darling," Lisa moaned, raising his face to her own between her hands and locking her lips wetly to his, her tongue darting into his mouth even as her quivering thighs separated further in unwitting invitation to his hand.
She hardly heard the metallic whisper of his zipper, was hardly conscious of anything but the overwhelming joy-filled transport of the moment, until she felt his sudden hot hardness pulsating against the naked flesh of her exposed thigh. Even then, there was a blank moment until it registered in her fevered brain. His penis! Oh God! He had taken it out of his pants and was pressing its heated length against her most secret flesh! He groaned into her mouth as his outstretched middle finger slipped down through her sparse cuntal hair to probe at the wetly throbbing mouth of her vagina, sending further spasms of rippling pleasure coursing through her, momentarily anesthetizing her.
The hot throbbing of his naked penis against her leg jarred her back to reality. She arched her neck and began negative movements with her head, baring her teeth to him as she moaned an audible, "No ... No ... No ... Mark!"
Suddenly, he took her hand and wrapped her fingers around the massively pulsing flesh of his cock, holding it there briefly while the first shock of its strange feeling to her touch passed. She didn't fight it, but instead, found herself squeezing gently, letting her sense of touch convey its message to her brain. It was immense! She'd never had any idea of its size, and a slight twinge of fear caught at her belly.
His hand left hers but she continued to cling to the throbbingly erect shaft while a gasp of pleasure escaped him. Experimentally, she began to stroke him, her fingers barely able to encircle his huge thickness. Slowly, she drew the thick outer skin up and down, her breath tight in her throat at her own excitement of handling and massaging his beautiful cock while he slipped his finger deeper and deeper into her ever-expanding vagina, a complete feeling of unprecedented fulfillment creeping over her.
Again she opened her mouth to his kiss, letting her hand slip down to explore the velvety soft hairiness of his heavy balls, caressing and cupping them gently by instinct. She was extremely wet now down between her legs from the liquid passion his finger was inciting as it played within the tingling lips of her hair-lined pussy, stretching the tiny ring of her still intact hymen in a gentle rotating motion that had begun to frighten her. She didn't want to lose her virginity now ... not this way ... not yet ... but the pleasure he was bringing her overshadowed all else and she found herself moving her slender hips up against his invading finger, her trembling thighs spreading wider as her hand slipped back up to stroke his straining maleness with increasing vigor.
He had begun to grind his teeth and grunt out his pleasure with every breath, while her own growing apprehension at the stage things had reached struggled against the overpowering intoxication of lust taking command of every fiber of her aroused young body. She felt the cool wetness of his rock-hard cock smear against the warm flesh of her inner thigh as she worked the heavy skin up and down his massively thick shaft, and she wondered if he was ejaculating, or whether it was the lubricating fluid she had read about in the sex guides to a happy marriage. Oh Lord, he was getting even harder and bigger, his pounding cock jerking in her hand as she caressed it affectionately, making him grunt again.
And then he was struggling, moving on top of her!
"Dammit, Lisa ... I've got to fuck you! I can't wait any longer!"
"No, Mark ... Oh, no, darling ... we can't! You know we can't ... " she gasped back at him, the full realization that it was all out of control suddenly hitting her with full impact. She let go of his demanding penis and thrust her hands between them, shoving against his chest and clamping her thighs tightly together, locking his embedded finger deep in her hotly steaming cunt. She tried to squirm her buttocks down into the car seat to rid her traitorously hungry vagina of the invading finger even as she held it securely inside her with her tightly braced thighs. Her mounting consternation of moments before had abruptly transformed into sheer dread. A loathsome feeling of repugnance over their dangerous performance caused a wave of near-panic to seize hold of her, to the point where she barely knew what she was doing, and suddenly she was clawing at him while her resisting hips squirmed wildly beneath him, his finger still buried deep up inside her clasping vagina.
"Oh ... Oh, damn you ... damn you, Mark Andrews! Stop! No, no, stop, I tell you!" she half-screamed into his face.
He'd made no verbal response, she well remembered, but the mask of lust contorting his handsome features had sent a shock of utter horror surging through her. She had tried to reason with him, but suddenly he had jerked his hand from between her legs and was forcing her tensed thighs open to him, digging his fingers brutally into their tender flesh, his teeth clenched, his lips bared back like an attacking animal.
"Oh God, no ... no, Mark! Please ... please don't!" she'd cried, writhing and flailing furiously beneath him, but she'd been no match for his lust-crazed strength.
In her frantic squirming and kicking she had scissored out her legs enough for him to slam his hips down heavily between them, and she quickly found herself pinned under his weight, her wide-splayed thighs open defenselessly to him, her fearfully quivering buttocks secured tightly to the seat.
"Mark, Mark ... please listen to me! No, you can't do this! Not this way, darling ... I beg you!" she whined, half-wailed up at him while her hands balled into little fists and hammered futilely against his chest.
She screamed as he hooked his fingers into the narrow wisp of nylon covering her defenseless loins and tore it away with a savagely ripping sound, and almost instantly she had felt the hotly swollen head of his huge penis as he slid it back and forth between the moist fleshy lips of her cunt.
God, there had been no fighting him! His knees held hers wide apart and moments later the blood-filled head of his throbbing member found the tight elastic mouth of her virginal cunt. With one last desperate effort, Lisa raised her hips in an attempt to dislodge him, to throw him off her, and as she did he had rammed his muscular pelvis forward, sending his pole-like cock splitting and tearing furiously up into her fearfully quivering little cunt.
"AAAagggggghhhhhhh!" she had half-grunted, half-screamed, kicking her legs out wildly in shocked disbelief at the total agony his fiendish assault sent shrieking from the core of her body to her brain. He had ripped her wide open, she knew, and the blood must be streaming from her. She had felt the thin membrane of her tight hymen give way before the vicious onslaught, and she was certain he had torn the tiny opening of her virginal hole.
Again she squealed, kicking out and was immediately sorry, for it only worsened her position. His massive shaft pushed the tender flesh of her rubbery vaginal walls in rippling waves of pain before it, digging deeper and deeper into the softly warm confines of her secret and treasured cuntal channel.
Lisa wept profusely from the beginning, both in shame and physical anguish as he had continued to batter into her, until finally she'd felt his huge balls slap solidly against her defenselessly upturned buttocks and his pelvis grind against her. Only then did he stop, breathing in heavy rasps. His thickly swollen rod of hard flesh was deeply embedded inside her fearfully quaking belly, the walls of her abused vagina wrapped so tightly around its thickness that she could feel every ridge and wrinkle of the terrible instrument of lust.
Maybe it was then, when she lay impaled in excruciating pain, like some ravaged serf out of the dark ages with the raping cudgel of the brutal invader spearing into her defenseless vagina, or maybe it had been that moment when he had forced himself between her legs and ripped away her panties ... or was it the first seconds of racking torment when he had thrust into her? Whichever, the metamorphosis of passion to horror had taken place: Desire, if and when it came over her after that moment, was to be accompanied by fear and dread.
God, was she really to blame? Even then, she had begged him to stop. He hadn't even given her the opportunity to adjust to his sudden presence buried so deeply in her womb. He had just begun to fuck, like a madman, his mouth slack, his eyes staring unseeingly as he rammed viciously into her tight little pussy while she groaned in unceasing torment beneath him, mumbling incoherently, her tears bathing her cheeks. Then his hands were groping at her ripely full breasts, clutching insanely, her flesh protruding painfully in white bloodless ridges between his straining fingers. He had chewed at her cherry nipples until the blood trickled from them, and even then she had tried, tried, tried to gentle his brutal attack.
But it was no use. One thought blinded him: To spew his hotly scalding load of pent-up sperm deep inside her, to fulfill and release himself, with no longer any thought of her. God, she had so wanted to know the ecstasy of love in its entirety, but he was fucking her like a slut, not making love to her!
She whined up at him once more, pleading, begging, but her whimpers were in vain. Suddenly, he slid his hands beneath her conquered thighs and was lifting them. She didn't resist, but even helped as he pushed them up and back, locking his arms behind them and forcing her down into the seat beneath the rampaging thrusts that were smashing the cruelly spongy head of his iron-hard cock against her cervix. She bit her lower lip and held to his ribs as he continued to pummel unmercifully into her; the horrible agony had passed, and there was a time of indecision gripping at her. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him, how close she was to understanding ... but then, he sucked in an enormous breath and his pitiless cock slammed into her nakedly upturned buttocks with a wild and new fervor. He was going to cum in her belly! She could feel it in the sudden tensing and jerking of his powerfully muscular body heavy upon her. His breath was hot and coming in gasping rushes against her face. She remembered that further panic had gripped her because he was using no contraceptive. Supposing she should get pregnant?
She had never really stopped crying, but whether it was more from the physical or mental pain, she was not sure. He began to fuck into her with fierce inhumanness, his huge shaft of flesh scoring the tenderly sensitive walls of her tightly reluctant vagina. He held her knees back to her shoulders in a cramped position that completely exposed the upturned plane of her helpless loins to his vicious lust. With every stroke, he drew almost completely out of her and then plunged forward with demoniacal force. She had never felt so ashamed or humiliated in her entire life. It was the end for them: There never could be anything between them again ... he hated her ... she knew it ... she knew it!
Then, she felt his thick pistoning penis growing bigger and bigger as it dug deeper and deeper into her hotly throbbing passage, until suddenly he threw back his head, a guttural, racking sound coming from deep in his chest, and she felt his rock-hard cock jerk wildly inside her as his white hot sperm began to spew from its tip in great spurts.
"Oh God, no, no, no!" she wailed in helpless submission as she felt the hot release gushing wetly in a swirling pool in her debased vagina, filling her womb and belly to the almost overflowing point.
And then it was done ... just like that. Lisa remembered it all too vividly, how he had slunk off of her, shamed in the aftermath of his vented lust, tears actually streaming down his cheeks begging her to forgive him, vowing to make it up to her. What a pathetic sight he had presented ... and God, how she loved him. They had wept together, holding tight to one another, long into the early hours of morning, pledging and re-pledging their love. But sex was never to be the same for her again.
They had been married soon after: The first day, and night, of six short months of sexual fiascos. She had only to see him coming at her with an erection to set the cold chills of revulsion creeping along her spine. God knows, she tried. She did everything to hide it from him, even pretended at orgasm like any good whore, for that was how she felt about herself. She was his private and personal whore, well paid for his use of her body.
Jesus Christ, do I have to keep this torment up all day?
Abruptly, Lisa got to her feet, went to the kitchenette and made herself a second cup of coffee, bracing it with bourbon once more, but lightly this time. She was not a drinker, especially at seven o'clock in the morning. It was just that she had needed something to bolster her after her sleepless night. Again, she found herself wondering where Mark was, if he was well and happy.
Perhaps he had even married again. She had no way of knowing. Her limited circle of friends were all comparatively new acquaintances she had made since their divorce, none of whom had ever known Mark. She had learned he was still in New York from an old college mate, Chick Spellman, accidentally bumping into him one day while shopping, and they'd had lunch together. He had come across Mark in a bar in Greenwich Village, but he hadn't been able to tell her much about him, or perhaps it was just that he hadn't wanted to. Well, it didn't make much difference anyway, did it? It was all over and done with now. A part of the divorcee's bitter past.
Oh, she wasn't so bad off, she supposed, if she could only think about it intelligently. She had friends, both male and female, and she certainly got around enough. Of course, there was always the divorce stigma, with every man assured in his mind that she was a certain lay. The fact of the matter was that she had slept with no man since Mark, none whatever. Sometimes, the desire to be made love to, the sheer, raw, sexual craving of her lush young body nearly drove her mad. Yet, she knew that the mere sight of a man standing naked before her, or lying against her, his fleshy hard rod touching her soft body, would immediately instigate the old rigor mortis. She would freeze up like an icicle.
Well, she had her writing, she thought, plodding slowly back to her chair. It had really become her whole life. Success was all she sought now. And her book was good; she felt certain of that. The rejections were not indicative of its quality. Editors were forced to turn down many good works for numerous other reasons.
Why didn't Kurt Mertz call. He must've read it by this time. Perhaps she should call him. Why not? Dammit, that's just what she would do, she decided determinedly. She would shower and dress and give him a call at his office after nine.
She rose suddenly and started for the bath. En route, she stuck her tiny pink tongue out at her typewriter, then smiled to herself. She was beginning to feel better. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad day after all.
* * *
Mark Andrews smiled down at the nubile little dark-haired girl grinning up at him from his bed, and then laughed as she wrinkled her nose at him with intoxicating good humor.
"Jani, why don't you get up and get dressed?" he said. "It's almost nine-thirty."
The tiny girl stretched out provocatively on the bed, her almost adolescent nakedness reminding Mark of a painting by some nineteenth century French artist.
"Oh, that's all right, love. I'm not due up for another two hours. Just put on the kettle, won't you? There's a dear."
Mark laughed again. He could never get enough of this sexy little English model, with her old-world mannerisms and cockney figures of speech. Just being around her made Mark feel like a character in some English comedy movie, and he loved it. Jani was a regular little live-wire, in bed and out, and Mark knew he was lucky to have run into her. She was always trying to do little things to please him, such as his appointment the next day with Peter Cortland, even though they both knew that their relationship was definitely temporary.
Of course, how she had managed to get Peter Cortland to make an appointment with him was still quite vague in his mind, but he felt certain she had arranged it with that voluptuous little body of hers. Ever since he'd known her and they'd been sharing this apartment together she had been trying to sleep with the right people, furthering her career bed by bed, and successfully so he had to admit. She was a clever chick, cute and lovable with sparkling dark eyes and short-cropped jet-black hair, plus a natural inborn vivaciousness that was being seen on more and more magazine covers as the beds grew plushier.
Right now she was lying on her back in their bed watching him dress, naked and sensuously squirming around to tease him with her usual mischievous antics, knowing that he was watching her in the mirror while he knotted his tie. He reflected a trace of a smile in the glass but his heart wasn't in it. He was thinking about the appointment she'd set up for him with Peter Cortland. He'd talked to one or two big spenders before, guys who had so much money they didn't know where to put it all, but the results had always been the same: negative. All the really big money was already tied up with other, bigger investment companies, or else those who had that kind of money weren't interested in entrusting it to a young firm with nothing to offer but ambition. Mark had gone in with two other young men only six months before, but their idealistic venture into free enterprise had been met with dubious success at best. In fact, Anderson, Andrews and Miller, Investment Brokers, were almost broke.
"You look like you're going to a bloody funeral," Jani Adams remarked from the bed, raising both of her deeply tanned legs ceiling-ward, her feet together, then lifting her gently rounding hips onto elbow-braced hands, presenting her rounded white buttocks to him as she pumped her legs in a bicycle exercise.
"Afraid I can't get enthused, Jani," Mark said, going to the closet for his lightweight summer jacket. "One day at the office is like any other day: unprofitable."
"Nothing good comes easy, ducky ... even me," the English pixie said, smiling impishly across the room at him as she continued her nakedly provocative calisthenics. Her warm feeling for the handsome, tall young man with the thin-lipped mouth and deep brown eyes, was obvious in her every glance and gesture toward him.
Mark grinned back at her as he ran a comb quickly through his long wavy black hair. He strode over and looked down at her, watching her firm young breasts with their partially distended dark red nipples quiver from the pumping movements of her up-thrust lower body. He walked to the foot of the bed and caught at her ankles, spreading them apart so that he could look down at the dark patch of soft pussy hair covering her lower belly and the fleshy lips of her narrow vaginal slit that trailed downward to join the split between her succulent ass-cheeks.
"Like?" she teased, her spritely smile meant to taunt.
"Didn't you get enough this morning."
"Do I ever?"
Mark shook his head, then drew his fingertip tantalizingly through the silken hair, tracing the thin line of her insatiable little cunt with the faintest of pressure until an obvious shudder rippled the taut muscles of her inner thighs and upward across her flat belly.
"Oooooooh ... you dirty bastard, you," she moaned. "I warn you, cut that out or you'll never get out of here alive..."
Grinning, Mark repeated the torment, causing her to squirm and coo beneath him, until suddenly, she jerked her legs free and swung from the bed, chasing him to the door. In the hallway, he laughed back at her.
"You wait 'til you come home," she said, pretending at anger, the door cracked so that he could see only one of her pretty eyes and part of her smiling, impish mouth.
"Is that a threat or a promise?" Mark laughed as his mistress arched her eyebrows at him, smiled, and then shut the door.
He took the elevator to street level, and then walked the two and a half blocks to the subway. He would've taken a cab, but with prices in New York and the shaky status of his new company, he had to try to save every penny. They needed something like the Cortland account, he thought as he descended into the hazy depths of the already steaming subway station. Something like that would put Anderson, Andrews and Miller on its feet, and quickly, too.
Mark smiled again to himself as he picked his way through the remains of rush hour traffic, Jani's antics coming to mind. God, she was a hot little piece, all right: screw from morning until night, and back around the clock without a break. But she meant nothing to him beyond being a playmate and solid friend, and she knew it. He'd made it clear from the beginning that their teaming up could be only a game, for convenience and pleasure's sake. He suspected she was in love with him, but as far as he was concerned there could never be anyone but Lisa; he would always love her, goddammit ... as long as he lived!
He sensed a tightness in his throat as memories of her flooded his mind. There were never many hours of the day when at least a fleeting thought of her didn't pass through his brain. My God, how he had loved her how he still loved her. He wondered if she ever thought of him, where she was ... if she was happy.
He had never seen her again after the divorce; he hadn't wanted any association or momentos to tear him apart any more than he already was.
He'd learned to live without her, even though he'd been certain he never could; but he would never forgive himself for what he had done to her. His horrible raping of her beautifully helpless virginal body had been the destructive force that had nearly destroyed her completely, and he knew it! She had never been the same after, simply a fear-ridden, lifeless, frozen woman from the moment he would touch her Oh, she tried, he knew that: pretended excitement with him when it was never there...
And so he'd divorced her. God, there was little else he could do. He hadn't tried to be noble; he owed her that much. She deserved happiness with someone, she was so young and vibrant and lovely. God, she might even be married again, he thought, and an emptiness seized at his entrails.
"Well ... that's what you wanted for her, wasn't it?" he said aloud to himself. "You ... you stupid, high-principled ass-hole, you!"
* * *
Kurt Mertz was somewhere in his early forties, Lisa decided. He was rather short, perhaps a couple of inches taller than her five-five, and he was overly puffy about the middle, but he dressed with taste and the expensive cut of his clothes hid it well. He had the fat man's second, almost third chin with small, wet, colorless eyes and a tiny mouth that seemed constantly engaged in a rather simpering smile. It was like a dimple in the center of his pink cherubic face. This lecherous humpty-dumpy was not exactly the date of her choice, Lisa mused, but she was quite thrilled and pleased when he told her they were going to the Four Corners.
Lisa had called the rotund literary agent that morning, and their conversation had, from Lisa's point of view, been short and very promising.
"This is a coincidence," Mertz had said, when she'd told him who was calling. "I was just going to call you, Miss Andrews. I've finished your novel and I'm quite excited about it."
"Really? You liked it then?" A tremor of elation had spiraled through Lisa. She could easily visualize his pudgy, grinning face.
"I feel it definitely has merit. There are a few things, of course, but nothing major," he said. "I've been trying to get around to calling you, but I've been so busy ... Say, why don't you have dinner with me this evening, where we can discuss it leisurely?"
"Well..." Mertz's voice was like syrup, and Lisa hesitated. Then, throwing caution to the winds, she said: "All right, I'd like that, Mr. Mertz."
"Around eight then. I'll call for you?"
"Very well ... around eight."
And here she was, at the Four Corners, the most exclusive literary hangout in New York. This was where all the great novelists and agents and publishers had always congregated, where celebrities and patrons of the arts were, strangely enough, as numerous as the tourists and sightseers who came to gawk at them. Lisa was incredibly excited when her obese escort pointed out first one and then another of the big names in the New York literary circles, exchanged nods with some others, and finally introduced her to perhaps the most successful agent on the East Coast: Peter Cortland.
"A pleasure, Miss Andrews," Cortland said, his square face caught in a warm smile, his deep gray eyes appraising her in several sweeping up and down glances. He was tall and broad, muscular and slightly white at the temples, a striking man of obvious confidence and dominating personality, probably in his fifties, she thought, as she felt his discerning eyes strip her appreciatively.
Lisa felt like squirming beneath his almost devouring gaze, and diverted her own eyes to the much younger, attractively dark-eyed woman with him. The woman smiled, intuitively, it seemed to Lisa, as if she understood. She said: "Better come along, Peter dear. I think Parker is motioning that he has our table."
"Yes ... yes, of course," replied Cortland, a slight ring of irritation to his voice. "Look here, young lady, if Mertz doesn't take good care of you on this book of yours, drop around to my office, eh?"
Lisa smiled. "Thank you ... I'll remember that, Mr. Cortland."
They went off and Kurt Mertz cleared his throat angrily. "A regular damned pirate, that one," he said. "A lusty one, too, I'll tell you that."
"His wife is just beautiful," Lisa murmured, still watching as the couple made their way across the room, nodding and shaking hands with many of the other patrons in the restaurant.
"Yes ... I suppose so, in a strict sort of way," Mertz agreed, leaning an elbow onto their table and peering at her through the candlelight. "But personally, I prefer blondes with deep hazel eyes."
Lisa managed a smile. She raised her martini to her lips.
"You know, you're ravishing with your hair upswept that way, Lisa ... may I call you Lisa?"
"If you like." The young blonde novelist gazed momentarily at a little sheen of oiliness that had oozed from the pores of his pug nose, causing it to glisten in the flickering light. "About the book, Mr. Mertz..."
He started to speak just as a tall brunette in flowing white silk appeared, the immaculate white collie dog she led moving slowly into the plushly wine-carpeted room. Lisa had witnessed spectacular entrances before, but this one whipped her breath away. The girl ... the woman, was absolutely stunning. She held her head high, almost regally, and her skin was the hue of ivory. Her magnificent breasts, in fact her entire body, were suggestively visible beneath the gown she wore, and Lisa was certain she could detect the black pubic hair covering her hidden vaginal mound. She was stunning, absolutely stunning!
"Marilyn! Darling ... so nice to see you," Mertz said, leaping to his feet and going to her.
"How are you, Mertz? I see you sold another dull book into movie trivia," she said, speaking in a husky but soft and controlled voice that inspired an envious tremor to move through
Lisa.
"I want you to meet someone," the pudgy little man said, his tiny mouth wide in a smile. He caught the voluptuous brunette's hand and let her to the table. "This is Lisa Andrews, who had just completed a magnificent book, Marilyn ... undoubtedly a best seller."
"Undoubtedly," the sophisticated woman remarked, sweeping her onyx eyes away from him and onto Lisa in a rapidly softening warmth. "I'm Marilyn Drew, my dear. This is Duke." She drew the animal back and it actually bowed, touching its long nose to the floor. "If this beast tries to exploit you, I'll be glad to read your work," she said coolly, indicating Mertz with a tilt of her head.
Lisa had not spoken. She felt stupid, as if she had been rendered dumb of a sudden. The girl-woman was an apparition, and the vision had bewitched her. Lisa gaped as she left them, not even saying good-by to Kurt Mertz.
"Who ... who is she?" she managed.
Mertz almost sighed. "A remarkable woman in our world," he said, sitting down slowly as he watched her and the animal being led to a secluded table. "I know of no one with her influence in publishing. Really, none of us knows anything about her, except that she's a remarkable agent ... and woman."
"Yes, I can see about the woman part."
Suddenly, Mertz's mind came back to Lisa, his little wet eyes seemingly inspired by what they had just engorged themselves upon.
"You were saying, Mr. Mertz...? "
"Kurt," he corrected, smiling. Then he grew serious. "Yes ... well now, I think we should get right to the meat of this publishing situation, Lisa. No use of me stringing you along one way or the other, is there?"
"I-I'd prefer you didn't," Lisa said. She had experienced a little let-down at his words. So, here it comes, she thought, watching him as he carefully selected his approach.
"Frankly, your book is good. As I said on the phone, there are a few things, but all minor: a couple of character flaws and a little plot weakness in one or two spots, but in general, good, my dear, damned good."
"Then, you feel you can sell it for me?"
"Oh, I don't doubt for a minute that I can sell it, once we've ironed out those weak points," he said, his small eyes scrutinizing her carefully. "But you must remember, my dear, first books are notoriously bad risks for publishers, and bring a little remuneration to their authors other than satisfaction." He simpered. "I mean, without a name, who wants to read you?"
Lisa tasted her martini. "Everyone has to start somewhere, Mr. Mertz..."
"Kurt," he corrected again.
"Besides ... Kurt ... I don't have to make a fortune from it, nor did I hope to . . ; "
"I don't believe you grasp my full meaning, dear," he said, with a shake of his head. Then, he raised his hand, gesturing to their waiter.
"Two martinis, Henry." Then he returned to her. "Look at it this way. Why not a best-seller right off the bat? It could be, you know, with just a little work, and no disrespect, darling but with a little professional know-how. I mean, first book, best seller ... what follows? Movie rights, of course, and from there, fame and fortune. Are you with me?"
"You've lost me completely." Lisa said, smiling.
Mertz laughed warmly. "It's a business, Lisa," he said, leaning closer onto the table. "A great big fat money business. When and if the publisher buys your book he is only concerned with how much money he is going to make from it. He has to be! When and if the agent takes you on as a client, he is only concerned in your remunerative power. His commission is how he makes his living. Look, every day I read first novels, some of them damned good, too, but I won't waste my time with them. Why not? I can't afford to waste my time for the meager return..."
Henry brought their drinks. It gave her a moment to think. He was still talking in big circles, but slowly centering in toward his point. Lisa ran her tongue over the edge of her pretty lower lip. She was convinced that she already knew what he was getting to. She lifted her glass and cut deeply into its liquid content. The question was, how badly did she want this success she had been chasing since God knows when? How bad? Bad enough to do things she didn't approve of: distasteful things ... like sex? Yes, she thought, looking around her at this pleasing, fulfilling, immediate representation of fame and fortune, she wanted it badly enough. More than anything else she could possibly think of ... and then, momentarily, she thought of Mark...
"Darling, you're a big girl now, as they say," Mertz brought her back to the reality of the moment. "Who am I to try and kid you. There's a little old saying that hits the nail right on the head in this small and limited world of art, and it goes like this: it's not what you know ... but who you sleep with."
So, there it was! Lisa laughed. The martinis had produced a pleasant glow that seemed to round off all the sharp edges. She felt the atmosphere keenly, as if she belonged. Music, the softly singing lilt of violins in some romantic strain she could not place rained down over her like a snowfall of Stardust. Even Kurt Mertz assumed imaginative proportions before her.
Suddenly, he said: "The question is, darling ... how badly do you want success?"
Lisa smiled beautifully, sensuously, almost seductively.
"Badly," she replied in her throaty soft voice. "Very badly, Kurt ... darling."
CHAPTER TWO
"Shall we have a drink?" Kurt Mertz invited, taking her wrap when they were inside his apartment.
Lisa's belly had become a knotted little cavern of queasiness from the moment he'd closed the door behind her. She had already drunk too much, but purposely, and when he had casually placed his hand on her thigh driving home, she began wondering if she had drank enough.
"I don't mind," she replied, her vision somewhat blurred, her tongue just a bit thick. She saw her manuscript on a center table and strolled over to look down at it while he went to a corner bar to prepare their drinks.
"Turn on the stereo, darling," the heavy literary agent said over the tinkling of glassware. "I think we need soft lights and music, eh?"
Lisa looked in his direction, couldn't see him but managed a smile anyway. She spotted the stereo and went over to it, trying to count up all the "dears" and "darlings" they had exchanged so far throughout the evening.
God, is it really worth it? Is it? she thought to herself. And all over that pile of paper sitting there on that table. Can I go through with it?
Mertz came up behind her, moved a little to her right and handed her a glass while at the same time his other hand went around her slender waist, immediately smoothing down over the" full round curve of her shapely buttocks. She stiffened, her breath coming sharply into her throat.
"My God, you're lovely," he rasped, his face only an inch or so from her own. "We ... we do understand each other, don't we?"
Lisa swallowed tightly. His insinuating hand resting on the outward swell of her buttocks had sent a cold chill fluttering through her. She steeled herself to keep from bolting.
"Well...? We do, don't we?" the pudgy man prodded nervously. He licked at his lips and his little colorless eyes were bugging at her. Thank God, she couldn't see him clearly.
"I'm here, aren't I?" she heard herself say.
Abruptly, he turned her to face him and drew her up tightly against him, causing her drink to splatter on both of them as he smothered her soft lips with his wetly open mouth. He clutched at her smooth fleshy buttocks with both small hands, grinding his pelvis into her until she could feel the rising bulge of his excited maleness, and his tongue jabbed between her lips against her teeth.
He drew back his head, simpering lustfully at her as she tried to measure her own physical reactions to his aggressive touch. So far, so good, she thought mechanically. The liquor was doing its job well if only she didn't have to look at him...
"You won't be sorry, darling," he hissed at her. "I promise you that. You be nice to me, and we'll make you fame and fortune with that book. I swear it..."
His hands smoothed up over her sensuous hips and waist to her lushly ripened breasts where they paused to squeeze and massage her soft warm flesh. Lisa was amazed at her lack of feeling, but she couldn't bring herself to touch him in response. Suddenly, he let go of her.
"Let's go into the bedroom," he gasped, grasping her hand and leading the way.
A shudder passed over her then, the first of a series that seemed to rack her whole being at the thought of willingly entering his bedroom with him and for the sole purpose of giving her body to him. He stopped in the doorway and turned to her.
"You're frightened," he said, attempting to be gentle even as his eyes spewed an urgently raw lust at her. "I feel you trembling. Don't worry, I won't hurt you, I promise."
Oddly, she was encouraged by his words, enough so that she managed a further smile as she said: "I I'm afraid I'm not much good at this sort of thing. I I haven't done it m-much."
He grinned lasciviously, drawing her into the room. "I'll help you," he half whispered. "You just be your normal, luscious self, and leave the rest up to me." He left her, crossing the room.
Lisa raised her drink and gulped half of it down. He had turned on a dim bureau lamp and started to remove his coat and tie. For the first time she saw the girth of his enormous stomach protruding against his white shirt, and then the bulge of his erect penis straining against his trousers. She stared at him in somewhat spellbound fascination as he unbuttoned his shirt, as if she were suddenly bewitched by this whole unbelievable scene in which she was scheduled to play a leading role. It was like some comedy, some farce she had once seen somewhere, as if she ought to burst out laughing but there was nothing to laugh at, absolutely nothing at all!
"Would you like me to undress you, darling?" Mertz asked softly. He had removed his shirt and was pulling his undershirt over his head. She saw the full bulk of his heavy belly then, hairless and pink-skinned like a baby, his effeminate breasts puffy and flabby, a small patch of hair between them.
She shook her head automatically to his question and walked to the other side of the bed, setting down her drink and reaching up behind her to lower the zipper of her dress. Whatever she did from here on, it would have to be without thinking, for if she gave the lurid situation one complete minute of thought she would run from there like a scared rabbit. She slipped her dress off, not looking at him but feeling his eyes raking her. She was wearing a half-slip and wriggled that down over her panty-covered hips. She had blotted his presence temporarily from her mind and went about undressing as if she were home and getting ready for bed. Subconsciously, she reached up behind her and unfastened her brassiere, slipping it off; then, her garter belt, smoothing her nylons down over the silky flesh of her smoothly tanned legs. Her back was to him and now only her panties remained. Why not? If not now, eventually anyway. She bit at her lower lip and rolled them down over her lusciously rounded hips, straightened ... and there he stood before her!
The naive young girl gasped aloud, the sight of his obese nakedness shattering her mental wall of privacy, his fatly grinning, baby-like face sending the first wave of revulsion surging through her. Her eyes dropped slowly down his gross bulk and locked on his stiffly erect rod of male flesh projecting from the woolly hair-covered pelvis beneath the heavy sag of his stomach, its purplish tip already wet with the excited secretion it had produced. She gasped again and began shaking her head negatively, her mouth falling open loosely, her lovely eyes widening in a panic that was fast overwhelming her.
Oh, my God! What ... what was I thinking of? I can't! I can't! This ... this ugly, greasy man! I ... I. . .
"I ... I can't do it, Mr. Mertz!" she blurted at him. "I just can't!"
He quickly moved in close to her, his arms circling her, jerking her trembling young body against him and causing his long thick cock to stab between her legs because of their equal height, her erectly protruding breasts digging into the flabbiness of his chest as he bent her backwards, his huge belly grinding against the tender flesh of her own.
"Don't be a little fool!" he hissed. "Who the hell are you trying to kid, baby? You've been married and divorced! Don't try to play the virgin act with me. You've been fucked more ways than I can think of!"
"Oh God!" Lisa wailed, trying to get her hands between them and push his vile body off of her.
Mertz had locked his hands behind her waist and was pressing her back against the bed. The little bitch was suddenly going to go chaste on him, eh? Well, he had gotten the rundown on her a long time back, when he'd first seen her on the elevator. He knew that she was a divorcee, and too many times he had drooled over just the sight of her to let her get away from him now. She had come to him, had played the game with him all evening, and now it was too late ... too late, baby! He wasn't about to let her go until he'd sunk his eagerly throbbing cock deep down into that delectably tight little cunt of hers. He was going to shoot his hot sperm up into that white little belly if it killed him and being here the way she was, there was nothing she could ever do about it!
"Oh God, don't ... don't!" Lisa begged as he bumped her backwards and they fell onto the bed, his vast bulk crushing the breath from her while his ramrod cock remained thrust between her clenching thighs, its upper portion partially insinuated between the fleshy pink lips of her cringing loins, its head snugly fit between her ass-cheeks flattened by the mattress. "Please ... please, Mr. Mertz ... I was wrong. I thought I could ... but I can't, don't you see?"
"I see that you're a teasing little bitch!" the lusting agent spat down at her. "A cock teaser, eh? Well, baby, you're going to get fucked like you haven't had it in a long time. I may be fat, but when it comes to fucking, I'm king, hear me?"
Lisa winced beneath his vile language. A scene from another time raced through her brain. She was going to be raped! She knew that she couldn't hold her legs together against him, that she was no match for his strength. His evilly lewd penis was going to ram into her precious womanhood and violate her horribly. He was going to spit his vulgar sperm up into her helpless belly, and there was nothing she could do to stop him! He was trying to kiss her now and she rolled her head frantically, but he caught it between his small hands and held it vise-like as he laved her face with his infant tongue.
"Oh ... oh, Mr. Mertz ... I beg you, please ... please don't," she whimpered beneath him, pinioned defenselessly under his incredible hugeness.
He hardly heard her and she felt him forcing her struggling legs apart. Struggling seemed ridiculous, but she did. even as he dug his nails into her naked flesh, spreading her ivory thighs until he was planted firmly between them, both of them grunting like fighting animals in their duel. Lisa groaned pitifully; then, looking up into his simpering face, she spat viciously, her angry saliva splattering between his fish-colored eyes and dripping down his pug nose.
"You goddamned little cunt!" he squealed hoarsely, slapping her cruelly across the face.
"I'll make you pay for that. I swear I'll make you pay!"
He wiped at his face and then his hand disappeared. Tears welled up into Lisa's eyes as she felt him spreading the sensitive lips of her reluctant vagina with the blood-inflated head of his terrible cock. She almost wanted to beg his forgiveness as she felt it splay the moistly pink flesh and position itself before the tight and tender mouth of her long-neglected vaginal passage. Her eyes gaped as she stared up into his brutally lust-contorted face.
"Now, goddamn you ... beg!" he spat. "Let me hear you beg!"
"Oh ... ooohhh, my dear God," she whimpered and he pressed forward slowly until she could feel the bloated tip of his enraged penis pressing cruelly against the tight elastic opening of her unready and unwanting vagina.
A leer of undisguised brutal lust twisted the pink cherubic face above her as he said: "Spit in my face will you, bitch! Well, we'll see ... we'll see...
She felt his heavy hips lift and automatically her hands went down to grab and hold them back, but it was a useless attempt. He thrust and she screamed. The head of his angry cock burst inside her defenseless little cunt with the force of some bluntly impaling log, and he held there momentarily while his piggish eyes absorbed the agony on her tormented face. Then, he sent it soaring into her when she least expected it, mercilessly like a roaring bull given its head, piercing and expanding the tight unsuspecting walls of her tender passage in a thundering plunge that not only took her breath away, but her wits as well. A great blackness seemed to envelop the frightened girl, and she fainted dead away.
When she opened her eyes again, Lisa felt momentarily nauseous. Mertz lay between her legs and she seemed to burn from her knees to her breasts. She squirmed beneath his great body and the warmly wet sloshing in her belly registered. Fear gripped her. Oh, my God, he'd emptied his foul loins into her while she was unconscious. She felt it, like a disgusting pool of seething lava, swirling in the depths of her abused belly. She stared up at him and he grinned simperingly down at her.
"I'm not mad, if you're not," he said.
Dear God, how she'd like to plunge a knife into his heart! She said nothing, only turned her face from him. His hands were on her reddened breasts, clutching and manipulating, rolling the sensitive nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and endeavoring to harden and distend them. He dropped his drooling lips onto one and sucked. She sensed his tongue, a maddening vortex of sensation she couldn't ignore. Wild little flurries flittered through her belly. She writhed and simultaneously felt again the growing of his just-satiated cock over again up between her helpless thighs.
"Haven't you had enough rape for one night?" she threw at him.
The obese literary agent chuckled. "You vixen, you almost had me fooled," he said, slipping his hand down between the open lips of her sperm-filled cunt. He let a fingertip steal up and taunt her sensitive clitoris, the nail only grazing against it enough to send overpoweringly paroxysmal sensations rippling through her.
"Ooooohhh," she moaned uncontrollably.
Kurt Mertz laughed aloud. "This time, we're both going to enjoy it, darling."
"Don't call me, darling. Don't, don't, don't!" she screamed at him.
Again, he laughed. "All right, bitch! That's what I'll call you. Bitch!" he spat as he squirmed his heavy bulk on top of her and she felt his monstrous cock grinding into her defenseless flesh once more. "Only this time, I've got other ideas."
Lisa felt him rise from her, all of his weight lift up and off her and she struggled to get to her feet, but suddenly she found herself flipped onto her face and his massive bulk atop her once more, her face buried in the soft coverlet on the bed.
"Goddamn you!" she screamed back at him, and Mertz laughed. She was totally helpless, face down and spread-eagled, hardly able to breathe as she lay pinned beneath him. His huge belly pressed into the soft hollow of her back and his growing erection lay snugly insinuated lengthwise between her trembling buttocks. She felt his hands press into the mattress to slide beneath her flattened breasts and begin their kneading and squeezing once more as he rocked gently on top of her, pressuring his shaft in rhythmically simulating movements into the warm crevice of her softly quivering buttocks.
It dawned on the abused young woman that she was being an idiot about it; there was absolutely nothing she could do to defend herself. She was like an insect being held down by the weight of a giant human hand: God, what an obscenely comical picture they must make, she thought. She tried to squirm and found that that was hopeless too, but the gurgling her effort caused deep in her belly reminded her that he had already shot his lewd semen into her once, and she cringed within at the thought. Well, the damage was done, it wasn't as if he had lured her here; she had come of her own free will ... and knowing...
"Are you calming down, darling?" he whispered down at her.
"You're squashing me," Lisa replied; it was an effort to even speak.
"Will you be good ... stop acting like some school girl on her first date?"
"I ... I won't fight you anymore, if that's what you mean," she said.
He rolled off of her but clung to her flattened breasts, keeping her inside his arms and putting them both onto their sides, spoon-fashion. Then, with his upper arm, he reached down and placed his now erect cock between her moistened thighs, tight into the open lips of her sperm-wet cunt, and she could feel the bristly hair of his bulging pelvis against her softly round buttocks.
She sighed heavily, able to breathe freely once more. His face was buried in her long hair and suddenly she felt him nibbling at her neck while he gently massaged the burgeoning nipples of her released breasts. God, if only he wasn't such a repulsive man, she thought, the frenzy of minute tingles from his hands rippling down through her belly.
"There's no need for us to fight about it, is there?" Mertz said into her ear. "I want to be friends if you do."
Lisa shivered beneath the deft movements of his hands and fingers caressing and tweaking the now erect nipples of her smooth breasts.
"Y-You know what I want," she answered, her breath catching in her throat. "You know the only reason I'm here ... doing this."
Mertz chuckled lightly. "You're a mercenary little piece," he said, moving his hand down the satiny smooth skin of her waist to her slender hips and drawing her softly trembling buttocks back tighter against his pudgy loins. "But it's a language I can understand."
Lisa relaxed a little, letting herself go back against him, feeling his insatiable shaft pulsating up against her rounded buttocks, its ever enlarging head instilled now between the fleshy supple lips of her sperm-soaked vagina. The horror of the situation had somehow worn thin for her; perhaps, it was the dazing effects of the liquor again, or the fact that the initial abomination was past; whichever, she was convinced that at this point she should get something out of it. She felt his hand move down over the naked flesh of her satin belly to the velvety mound of her warmly throbbing cunt, his finger parting the curling pubic hair and slipping into her wet slit to tease the tiny bud of her sensitive clitoris once more. The erotic little spasms he set off caused her to jerk her buttocks convulsively back against him, and he withdrew his hand, moving it up over her rounded hip and buttock cheeks, and down between her warm thighs where his massively thickened cock pulsed and beat like a hot second heart.
She heard his breathing increase and felt it warm against her neck as his fingers expertly caressed the lips of her splayed vagina before beginning to fuck his outstretched middle finger slowly and gently into the moist walls of her cuntal channel. His tender rotating movements raised a little gasp of unexpected excitement from her.
"You like that," he whispered hotly into her ear. "It sends fire shooting through that tight little cunt, doesn't it? Makes you want to fuck? You can almost feel my cock slipping right up into your warm little belly, eh?"
A tremor passed quickly over the naked young divorcee, the vile sound of the lewd words strangely exciting her, but she said: "Please ... do you have to use that filthy language? I'm not a prostitute, you know."
"But those are words of love and passion, darling ... fuck and cock and cunt and suck," he hissed and once more she trembled almost uncontrollably at their lewd sound. "And you should learn to use them."
The blonde novelist gasped again and held her breath as she felt his fingers slip wetly out of her well-lubricated vagina with a lewd sucking sound. He squirmed behind her, drawing at her soft buttocks and angling them out tighter against him; then he said; "Put it in."
She felt her body go rigid automatically at his suggestion, the obnoxious thought repulsing her.
She sensed his obscenely rock-hard shaft throbbing up between her thighs and tried to shake her head.
"I'm ... I'm too sore..."
"Put it in!" he ordered, reaching over her naked hips to take her hand and press it between her trembling legs.
Her mind froze and she gritted her teeth angrily, ready to fight him again.
"I said, put it in!" he snapped harshly into her ear.
Bitterly, she sank her white even teeth into her full lower lip and let her fingers find the hot rigid staff of flesh between her legs. Her fingers and thumb moved to encircle and maneuver it as it throbbed hotly in her hand, sending another unwanted wave of wanton excitement through her battered loins. It was necessary for her to push her naked buttocks back even further toward him before he could put it inside her hotly pulsating pussy, and Lisa moaned in dread as she worked his lust-swollen cock-head between the quivering wet lips of her open cunt, moving his thick hardness slowly back and forth in the hair-lined slit up between her legs in preparation for his entry.
"For God's sake, don't hurt me ... please?" she begged as she felt his heavy hips begin to pressure forward.
"Maybe a little ... but only for a minute," he answered hoarsely, and the spongy head of his pressuring cock moved tight against the elastic little mouth of her moistly quivering vagina, its tip easing into her gently. Automatically, Lisa contracted her bowels in unwitting resistance, grunting with the anticipated pain that never came, for he slipped easily right up into her until she could feel him deeply embedded up in her belly, the hair of his groin brushing against her quivering ass-cheeks as momentarily he chose to lay still and locked into her. "Hurt?" he whispered.
"I I ... no ... I don't think so," she managed, tasting the saltiness of the blood she had drawn from her lip.
Gradually, he began to move, stroking gently with short in and out motions that slowly began to allay her fears. The wetness of his earlier ejaculation into her had lubricated the tight walls of her vaginal passage, and she gave thanks that at least it had had some value. In fact, she reluctantly admitted to herself, it felt rather good as he began to lengthen the stroke and quicken his tempo, and his turgid cock-head sank deeper and deeper up into her belly.
Mark, her ex-husband, had never approached her this way, and it was an entirely new experience. It was painless, and she didn't have to look at the mounting male ... perhaps that was the reason the enthusiasm was growing rapidly inside her...
But then, almost as suddenly as he'd begun, Kurt seemed to slip into a maelstrom of lust, his breath increasing furiously. He began to spear into her tight young cunt with less and less temperance, until his thick rock-hard cock was battering and smashing all before it in great waves of inflexible strength, his pelvis smacking tight into her soft buttocks mercilessly from behind.
"Oh ... oh ... oh," Lisa coughed with every body-jolting thrust. "You're hurting me!" Once more, her fear had leaped into being within her. "My God!"
A twinge of pain shot through her as his rampaging shaft burrowed deeper up into her helpless womb. He had dug his fingers into the soft flesh of her abdomen and was holding her secured. She could do nothing but squirm helplessly as he jackhammered into her wetly throbbing pussy, feeling his obese body tight against her own back, his breath coming in raspy warm blasts against the sensitive flesh of her neck.
"Christ!" he blurted suddenly, and before she realized what was happening he had forced her over onto her belly, his legs between her own and was drawing her hips backward so that she came up onto her knees. He clung savagely to her naked buttocks, his stubby fingers gouging into their soft flesh as he levered both of their bodies into the desired position he wanted, his knees inside her own and pressuring them out brutally.
Instantly, shame and degradation nearly overwhelmed Lisa at the obscenely debasing animal stance he had forced her into. She knew what this position was called: Dog fashion! She felt like some medieval harem concubine bent servilely before her master in an attempt to bring him his lustful pleasure. Once again, her anger raged inside her, and she tried to crawl forward and away from his pistoning cock, but the brutal agent reached forward with both hands grasping her by the shoulders, pulling her voluptuously struggling body back tight against him, flattening her upraised buttocks with a solidly resounding whack as his huge balls heavy with sperm again scraped against her inner thighs with each powerful stroke.
Lisa's moans of pain and humiliation went unheeded as Kurt ground into her, his long thick cock sunk to the hilt in her quivering white belly. She could feel the pulsating cock-head jammed tight against her battered cervix as he pressed her agonized thighs out even wider and brought his hands back to her narrow waist, to begin a slow tormenting rotation of his rigid penis deep inside her tortured young cunt.
My God, I'm going to split apart!
"You're hurting me! Damn you!" Lisa panted back at her tormentor as he forced gasp after gasp from deep in her lungs with the brutal thrusts of his rampaging cock. But even as she spoke she knew that the pain had already lessened and she felt her tight cuntal passage expanding further and further with each new stroke he made into her. Only the inexorable pressure of the weight of his hands forcing her upper torso down in order to raise her naked buttocks upward toward his face was causing her immediate agony. Yet the warm tingling of excitement that had begun in her loins was combining with her discomfort to create a new masochistic pleasure, unfamiliar but weirdly appealing to the submissively kneeling young girl.
Now, he was pumping into her from behind with bruising force, squeezing the supple flesh of her joggling buttocks as choking whimpers gurgled from his heavy belly. He twisted and rammed forward while one of his fingers began to nudge at her tightly puckered anus and the very thought of what was happening sent a deep seated wave of shame and humiliation coursing through her at the vision of her completely servile nakedness and subjugation before this vile man whom she had willingly given herself to.
God ... his penis getting bigger and bigger inside me! His lewd thing is filling my whole belly ... it's going to choke me!
Suddenly, Lisa found to her own amazed repugnance that she was moving her nakedly quivering buttocks back in lewd little circles toward Mertz's thick rampaging cock, undulating her own hips in an obscene invitation, abandoning herself to the obscene fucking she was receiving from behind with an uncontrollable and mounting desire. She turned her face sideways to look back at him, and when Mertz saw it contorted in growing rapture, he nearly went wild.
He could feel his heated cock growing thicker and thicker in her belly, as he ground savagely into the kneeling young blonde with a wave of sadistic delight flickering across his pudgy face. His eagerly pulsating cock had suddenly begun to ache and burn as it never had before. He was almost there, and the way she was swaying and dancing on the end of his cock, he was certain that she was too.
Lisa had suddenly fallen into a spell of sheer entrancement. The delicious constraining force building inside her was an ecstatic pleasure she had never before known; nothing else mattered but that ever-mounting blissful pressure his wonderfully thick cock was producing inside her, and she had given herself over in complete wantonness to it. It was enormous, breathtaking, overshadowing all pain and agony, making it all understandably worthwhile ... his ugliness ... oh he was beautiful! The world was beautiful! Fucking was beautiful!
Her belly suddenly burst open in one great moment of joyous rapture, and she screamed instinctively knowing she was cumming in spite of all her years of never believing that she could. A gush of something hot and wet seemed to flood her straining loins, her tensed stomach quivering, her ivory thighs convulsing spasmodically, to finally spread over her whole exhausted body in one complete trembling shudder. She wanted to collapse, but he held her with insanely clutching hands. She felt her spasming thighs and quivering ass-cheeks swept wide apart in one last battering attack as he rammed his wildly jerking penis in as far as he could up, up into her belly and began spurting his hot searing cum deep up inside her. He threw back his head and wailed.
"Aaarrrggghhh!" It was a sound of animal rapture, unbelievable in its intensity.
Lisa felt his heated liquid passion filling her contracting vaginal passage with a compelling force for the second time that night. Dear God! She sensed it flooding hotly into her, filling the depths of her womb until she thought she would drown from it. There were several convulsive jerks of his thrusting pelvis against the soft cheeks of her relaxing buttocks, and then he gradually slithered down and away from her, his rapidly deflating penis pulling out of her with a lewd sucking sound.
The young female writer fell forward onto her face and lay quietly unmoving. She turned her face away from Mertz where he lay, but heard his spent breathing as it filled the room.
"Well?" he said after awhile.
She didn't answer. In the aftermath of her initial climactic moment of ecstasy, she felt horribly let down and loathsome of her own self. Why ever she should, she didn't know! She had no one she was responsible to; she had committed no infidelity. Then, she thought of Mark and tears came into her eyes. She had never known this sexual satisfaction with him, but whose fault was that?
"Was it that bad?" Mertz said, putting his hand on her sweat-streaked back.
Lisa cringed beneath his hand. "Don't touch me!" she spat, jumping from the bed, tears streaming down her cheeks as she began to pull on her clothes.
"What the hell...! " the astonished agent exclaimed. "You must be some kind of nut. One minute, you're wild; your ass is humping like a bitch in heat. The next, you're about as friendly as a cold shower on a winter's morning. I don't get you, baby. Just what is your hang-up, anyway?"
Lisa gaped at the nakedly obese man on the bed, sick inside herself at the thought that she had actually degraded herself to the point of giving her body to this obscene mountain of flesh, but more upset with the fact that he had made her cum for the first time in her life.
She tried to speak, but couldn't; her tears choked her. Instead, she dressed as rapidly as she could and ran from the room. Thank God, he didn't try to stop her. She darted through the living room and out into the hall and then into the elevator where she collapsed against the wall as it began its ascent. Her mind was filled with a mixture of overpowering emotions: A blend of fear, anger, passion and self-disgust. But through it all, with insistently undeniable clarity, came the awful knowledge that she had defiled not only herself, but the love she still held for her husband as well.
"Oh Mark ... oh dear God, Mark ... my darling ... I need you so very much..."
CHAPTER THREE
"You must be Mark Andrews," Sara Cortland smiled, following a lazy moment of surveillance of the young investment broker. An expression of welcome surprise flickered across her extremely attractive face. "Come in, we've been expecting you."
She spoke with a decided southern accent, Mark thought, as he stepped through the door into the Cortland's magnificently furnished apartment. He waited while Peter Cortland's beautiful young wife closed the door, and then moved ahead of him to lead the way into the living room.
"You sound as though you're from my neck of the woods," Mark ventured colloquially as she motioned him to a seat on one of the two overstuffed sofas in the room.
"How do you mean? Drink?" the lovely woman asked, crossing the room to the small bar in one corner.
"No. No thanks. Too early for me." Mark settled himself down on the sofa, unable to keep himself from staring at Sara Cortland's exquisitely moving buttocks swaying under her sheer summer dress as she walked. Her dress was very short, almost too short, and revealed her tawny thighs to their best advantage.
"I mean your accent," he continued, "Georgia?"
"South Carolina. My family was strictly Old South. I was happy to get to New York." The lovely woman smiled enticingly, almost familiarly, as she poured their drinks. "You're very observant, Mr. Andrews. I like that."
Her eyes rested on him just a moment too long to be accidental, Mark thought disconcertedly, but then he dismissed the thought with an inward smile. He'd never grow up; three minutes with a beautiful woman, and he was imagining himself in bed with her.
"I hope I'm not too early, I couldn't remember whether we'd said four o'clock or four-thirty."
"Oh no, you're right on time, Mark. I may call you Mark?" She continued without waiting for an answer, "And you must call me Sara. Peter will be out in just a minute, he's just come in from the gym. That'll give us time to get acquainted, all right?"
"I can't think of anything I'd rather do," Mark smiled intimately, subconsciously responding to the challenging tone of Sara Cortland's voice.
"My, my ... you are an eager young man, aren't you? I just hope your plans for Peter's money come on as strong."
Mark blushed, suddenly afraid that he'd stepped out of bounds, but his prospective client's wife reassured him quickly with a friendly smile. And then, from behind him, Mark heard a heavy grunt, and saw his hostess look up over his head and then rise.
"Peter, darling, this is Mark Andrews. Mark, this is my husband, Peter."
Mark started to rise, but got no chance as Peter Cortland thundered into the room, immediately dominating it, and came around the sofa thrusting out his hand, standing directly in front of the young investment broker.
"Hello, Andrews. Sorry I'm late."
"No, sir, you're right on..." Mark began, reaching up and clutching the huge hand.
"He isn't drinking, dear," Cortland interrupted. "Give the boy a drink."
"He declined, darling."
"Nonsense. What d'you drink, Andrews?"
"Well ... Scotch ... anything."
"That's more like it," the friendly literary agent grinned, moving around behind the bar to fix the drinks. "Now bring over all your facts and figures, and let's see if you can do any better for me than those duffers I've got working for me now. You got all that financial status crap I mailed to you?"
"Yessir," Mark answered quickly, starting to leap up. But Sara Cortland's barely noticeable hand caught his eye and slowed him. She wavered it up and down meaningfully, and then winked conspiratorily ... and a bit suggestively as well, Mark thought. But he took the hint. "And on the basis of those preliminary figures, I've come up with a possible line of investment that I think is very..."
"Here, boy. Drink hearty," the large man interrupted, thrusting a glass into his hand and raising his own in toast. "Just let me see what you've come up with, and we'll talk about it later."
Mark opened his briefcase, and handed Cortland the prospectus sheets he'd tried to work up from the basic facts contained in Cortland's preliminary financial statement. Then he stood back as Sara Cortland moved around the bar to stand by her husband, cooing as he slipped an arm around her erotically slender waist. Mark caught the movement, and gulped as Sara just briefly looked up at him and gave an odd little smile. He raised his drink to his lips, and gulped a good portion of it down. It was more than half Scotch, and he swallowed tightly with the jolt.
"You've got two different plans here?" Cortland grunted after a few minutes quick inspection.
"Yessir, three actually. I didn't know, of course, whether you would prefer a good, secure, long term stock with fairly stable returns, or the chance of a really big return on some riskier short-range investments. Personally, my choice would be for the third plan. Mark leaned over and indicated a separate piece of paper. "It combines a good measure of security by investing in growth stocks, plus a healthy measure of risk-taking which you'll notice, is quickly consolidated and not allowed to become over-extended."
Mark noticed nervously that Cortland seemed to be nodding his head slightly in response, but he couldn't be sure.
"Why take any chances at all, Mark?" Sara
Cortland said quickly. "Why not put everything into growth stocks?"
Mark cleared his throat. "Well, in my opinion, short-term investing can be done intelligently and without that much risk. And if an investor is too cautious, I firmly believe that he may find himself in as bad or worse shape than someone who takes too many risks. It's a matter of choice, though, of course..."
Sara smiled beautifully. "I'm sure you'll work it out for us, Mark," she said, with emphasis on his name. "The whole thing does nothing but confuse me anyway."
She turned away from him slowly, and he gulped at his drink once more. It was hardly feasible to him that they were scrutinizing his plans this closely. He had sat in the luxurious living rooms of too many money-people lately, perhaps, listening to them butcher his ideas with their own absurd preconceptions. Of course, he hadn't had the opportunity to turn down any prospective clients, but on some of his crucified plans, he'd dearly wanted to.
Peter Cortland grunted once more. Suddenly, he picked up his drink and turned from the bar.
"I like them, Andrews. You seem to have considered all the angles. Of course, I'll have to give them a few days study before I make my decision." He walked over to a large leather chair, obviously his special one, and dropped heavily into it. "But it'll be a few days before I can let you know anything. I'm a very busy man. Leave these figures here, and I'll call you and let you know our decision."
Mark nodded, even found a smile. How many times had he heard that one in the last few months? He drained his Scotch and stood.
"Nice meeting both of you," he said, shaking the big man's hand. "Of course, I'm ready and willing to listen to any instructions you might have. I'm sure you know what's best for your money, after all."
Cortland didn't answer, just waved in farewell. Mark walked to the front door, followed by his beautiful hostess. Then he turned and reached out for her hand. She gave it to him.
"It was worth it just for this," he said, almost too dramatically.
She smiled. "You lovable liar," she half whispered. "I like your ruthless eyes, Mark Andrews. If your promise is what I think it is, you've just got yourself a deal."
Mark debated for a full ten seconds, then leaned forward with pursed lips. She met him with her own.
"Bye, bye," he said, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Bye," she whispered, running her hand along his arm until he left.
As he was waiting for his wife to show the young investment man out, Peter Cortland smiled to himself. He had caught the enthusiastic expression in her eye as she'd watched the boy and pretty well decided what was' coming. Well, that was the secret of their successful marriage: understanding and broad-mindedness. They both enjoyed their own private little affairs, each often helping the other in setting up a seduction when the circumstances were too difficult for one to accomplish it alone. Cooperation had been the secret word, wildly uninhibited sex the name of the game, and happiness the result. But this time, there was a hundred grand of his money involved, casting a somewhat different light on the whole scene.
He wasn't unimpressed. In fact, Mark's plans sounded damned good, but he wanted to be sure. He wasn't that filthy rich. Two marriages had drained the hell out of his resources, and he'd sworn never to marry again. Then, he'd met Sara and discovered that he had found a human being even more lusty than himself. God, what a woman she was, in or out of bed, and she'd given him five gloriously fun-filled years, with never a dull moment and hardly an argument. He was fifty-two and she twenty years his junior, but once they got their clothes off they were like a couple of teenagers who had just discovered sex and couldn't get enough. It was never the old married routine of one servicing the other out of obligation, but a seduction with all the preliminaries and ecstatic surprises, heart and soul thrown into it. But still, he was the boss, and the money was his. He didn't intend to jump off half-cocked because his little lover-girl had come up with a sudden case of hot-pants for their investment counselor.
Sara was smiling as she re-entered the room. Peter watched the provocative sway to her roundly full hips as she approached his chair and stood in front of him, the scintillating explosions taking place in her dark eyes giving her away.
"I know," the big man said, smiling up at her.
"It's written all over your face."
"Hmmmmmm," Sara cooed. "I want a piece of that boy, daddy. He gives me the quivers inside." She dropped to her knees in front of him and worked her way in between his legs to lay her head on his lap. "Jealous?"
Peter chuckled. "Hell, no," he said. "I might be if I thought there was anything more to it than a few sessions in the sack, but I think I know my lover-girl well enough to know that two or three good fucks with Mark Andrews will cool those quivering insides."
A little shudder of excitement passed over the kneeling woman and she hugged him. "That's why I love you, Peter ... you know and understand me like a book." She released him and trailed her hand over his flat stomach and down to the front of his trousers where the pressure of her head against him had caused his flaccid penis to stir. With her fingernail, she outlined the length of his growing shaft, and it jerked noticeably beneath its cloth covering while her husband made a little gasping sound. "What do you think of his plans?" she asked as she teased him.
"P-Promising ... but I want to study them some more," Peter managed, his libido mounting rapidly beneath her teasingly taunting fingers.
"I like them," his smiling wife said, using her thumb and forefinger now as she moved up and down his increasingly thick protrusion. Her eyes danced affectionately and she watched the growing lust twist his handsome face.
"Y-Yeah, and I know why, lover-girl," the wealthy agent said, running his fingers through j her silken dark hair as tiny ripples of desire raced swiftly over the sensitive nerve-ends of his aroused skin. "You're letting your pussy do your thinking for you right at the moment
She paused with her ministrations momentarily. "You mean you're not going to give him the contract?"
"I didn't say that, honey," Peter replied softly, smiling through his building passion. "I said, I want to study them some more ... find out a little something about this Mark Andrews before we hand him a hundred grand of our money. You follow me now?"
She smiled, her hand slipping to his belt and slowly beginning to unbuckle it. "I follow you, daddy ... just hurry with your decision, for your lover-girl's sake, eh?"
Peter Cortland's broad face flushed slightly at the sight of his wife opening the front of his straining trousers. He watched her lower the zipper and then tantalizingly slip her long slender fingers into the waistband of his bulging shorts. He lifted his weight automatically, and she slipped both trousers and shorts down from his rugged hips, then went to his feet to tug both garments off of him. Satisfied, she sat back on her haunches between his legs to look at him, her eyes locking on his thick throbbing penis standing out rigidly, its purple tip peeking from beneath its heavily uncircumcised foreskin, his bloated testicles beneath resting on the cushion of the chair between his muscular thighs.
Peter's mouth grew dry as he waited with mounting anticipation, never knowing with this remarkable girl what was coming next. His aroused cock had begun to tingle madly with lust and excitement, and he could feel his heavy balls tightening and swelling beneath it. He couldn't help but smile a little too, knowing that she was trying to persuade him with his decision on young Andrews. But right then he had reached the point where reasons didn't mean a damn, only that she get on with the action...
Sara reached up behind her and lowered her own zipper, shrugging the summer dress from her smooth white shoulders, letting it drop to her hourglass waist. Then she reached back and unhooked her brassiere, slipping it down her arms and exposing her lushly uplifted breasts to him, their dark nipples immediately budding into hardness as the cool air brushed against them.
The heavily breathing Peter gasped as always at the erotic sight of his wife's full pointed breasts. She leaned forward, sliding her hands along the outer side of his powerful thighs to his tensed buttocks and gently tugged until he slid forward to the edge of the cushion. Then, without a word between them, she encircled her fingers around the huge thickness of his erect penis and began to stroke and massage it gently, knowingly, rubbing the heavy foreskin up and down while slipping her other hand beneath the velvety sac of his balls, cradling their heated weight in her small palm. Peter groaned aloud, clenching his teeth at her amorous ministrations of his eagerly throbbing genitals.
"What do you think now, daddy?" she teased him.
"I-I haven't changed my mind ... we'll consider him," he stammered as she gave his jerking cock a tender squeeze that sent an exciting shock-wave spiraling up his backbone.
"You wouldn't disappoint your lover-girl would you, huh? Would you?" the teasing seductress pouted, drawing the heavy foreskin slowly down behind the coronal rim of the satiny blood-filled head of his now wildly pulsating cock.
"D-Damn you ... you're trying to blackmail me," Peter grunted, grinding his teeth together again, "I-I'm not responsible for what I say at a time like this."
Sara laughed lightly and leaned forward, taking her soft warm breasts in each hand and separating them to create a fleshy little valley. Grinning impishly, she pressed her breasts tight around his feverish cock, completely engulfing the rigid shaft of his throbbing penis.
Peter groaned and thrust his burning loins upward involuntarily at the soft contact of her heated flesh wrapped so enticingly around his rock-hard cock, his muscular hips beginning an immediate up and down rhythmic fucking motion.
She took his big hands then and placed them on her supple breasts to knead and manipulate as he liked, while she again cupped his sperm-filled balls and gently scratched her nails beneath them with one hand, the Other worming up the crevice between his buttocks in a slowly tantalizing approach toward his puckering anus.
Peter grunted from deep in his chest as he felt her outstretched finger reach his rectal opening, and gaped in mounting lust at the sight of his thick cock moving in and out between his wife's satin-textured breasts. He felt her long nails grazing his sensitive, cum-filled balls, and then groaned with the slow salacious penetration of her long finger slipping up into his rectum ... up, up, up ... until he could feel the palm of her hand resting warmly against his buttocks.
"What do you think now, daddy?" she cooed up into his face, her sparkling eyes alive with her own building desire.
"I-I think ... that you're a luscious little bitch..." the aroused husband rasped, half in smile, half dazed with the increasing sensations building in his tight loins.
"Am I winning?" she teased, rotating her finger gently in his quivering anus.
"Damn you ... yes ... you're winning..."
"Mark Andrews is going to get our account?"
Peter swallowed. "If that's what you want, baby ... Whatever you want..."
"Oh, I love you, Daddy!" she exclaimed, letting go of his pulsing testicles and sliding her hand up the fiery shaft of his erect cock. She eased back from him and lowered her head until he felt the warm moistness of her open lips close over his painfully throbbing cock-head.
"Uggghhh, beautiful ... baby ... beautiful," he grunted, tangling his hands in her hair and shoving his impatient loins upward into her lovely face. He watched the bobbing head as her warm mouth slipped sensually up and down his long fleshy rod of flesh, then he caught sight of their reflection in the wall mirror, and his excitement increased even more as he saw his thick white cock burying itself completely between her ovaled lipstick-rimmed lips.
She twirled her tongue maddeningly around the moist stickiness of the blood-inflated head while her finger continued to thrust maddeningly in and around the soft spongy flesh of his pulsating anal passage. He gaped at the wall mirror, watching with lust-glazed eyes as his wetly glistening penis fucked like a piston shift in and out of her hungrily sucking mouth.
"Oh Christ," he groaned. "Suck it, lover-girl. Oh shit ... beautiful ... suck it hard!"
The woman kneeling between his widespread knees did just that, her head bobbing rhythmically with his fingers locked in her gleaming dark hair. Sara had worked him up to the point where his huge penis was pulsating and jerking in reaction to every flick of her tiny tongue, and he could see the red flesh of her ovaled lips being pulled out grotesquely with each sucking upstroke. He knew now that she had reached the stage of achieving her own gratification, a rare ecstasy that few women could boast; she was going to cum just by sucking him excitement and mental stimulation alone. She would wait for him, build to that peak, then his spurting ejaculation into her voracious mouth would set her off as surely as would a cock shoved deep in her hot little cunt. The thought of that alone now was driving him wild as he watched the stunningly beautiful brunette concentrate, oblivious to all else around her, her naked breasts jerking and dancing erotically below, all of it adding to the unbelievable pressure building in his testicles and loins.
"Suck it! Suck it! like that. Oh yeh ... yes ... yes ... suck it ... suck it ... oh God," he moaned, as she began to swirl her deeply embedded finger furiously in his stretched anus, until suddenly ... it was time! He could feel the power and the liquid glory surging up from the depths of his aching balls, and he shoved his powerful loins up hard against her beautiful face, clutching at her hair while his hot molten cum erupted the long hard length of his wildly jerking cock. He felt the first shudder of her own orgasm seize her and she began to suck with an insane hunger that threatened to rip the great exploding head of his penis right from the shaft.
Gush after gush of his white hot sperm spewed into her wonderfully sucking mouth from his pumping cock. She swallowed repeatedly noisily and with great relish her cheeks bloating and hollowing, her naked body quivering and jerking from her own climax while she continued to suck gluttonously, little whimpering sounds of pleasure humming out of her, her head never stopping as he rammed his ejaculating shaft of thick flesh farther and farther down her throat.
Then, a convulsive shudder passed over him, and he groaned a great sigh of contentment as the dregs of his lava-like sperm were sucked out of him and his virile shaft began to grow flaccid in her buttery mouth. Still, Sara clung to him, nibbling tenderly, licking until his tingling cock-head glistened in its softly deflated state, finally kissing it and raising her radiant face up to him.
He bent down, taking her beautiful face between his big hands, and kissed her warmly on the mouth.
"Now, Daddy," she said, her eyes dancing happily because she knew she had satisfied him, and had won the game. "I-I think I'd better have little Mark Andrews come over and see me tomorrow afternoon, don't you? I mean ... you don't plan to be home, do you?"
Peter Cortland chuckled. "You're a hellion, you know that? A wild little bitch."
She pouted. "You don't love me anymore," she said, dropping her head, kissing his deflated penis once more.
He mussed her hair playfully. "As a matter-of-fact," he said, "I'll be at the office all day tomorrow." She raised her head and smiled at him. "I'll go over his plans tonight to make sure I get everything I want." He paused. "And if I get everything I want, baby, then I promise you can have everything you want."
"Including...?"
"Including." Peter answered.
With a little squeal of pleasure, Sara Cortland nakedly raised herself up and threw her arms around his powerful neck. Oh, it was so nice to have such an understanding husband!
CHAPTER FOUR
It was typical of Mark Andrews to make instantaneous decisions, and en route to the Cortland apartment the next afternoon he made one. He was putting an end to his arrangement with Jani Adams before it grew out of hand. It was well beyond the mutual arrangement stage and into the possessive development already, and he had discovered that he was as guilty as she. Not that he didn't like the cute little British model, but nothing could come of it because he would never let it; so, it was silly and unfair to both of them to let it continue. Regardless of what happened in the next few hours with Sara Cortland, he would move out and take a hotel room or something for a few days until he could find a place and move his things.
He couldn't forget the way Peter Cortland's voluptuous wife had sounded over the telephone that morning: that smoky, seductive voice of hers, dripping sex while she talked about some money she wanted to invest, or some such nonsense. It was almost impossible for him to believe ... that the beautiful and filthy-rich Sara Cortland, wife of the biggest literary agent in New York, was giving him the come-on signals, but it had been written all over her yesterday and in her voice this morning when she'd called. Nevertheless, he was not about to blow the possibility of landing a hundred-thousand-dollar account for a romp in the sheets. If he did stand a chance of getting the deal, which he was still reluctant to believe, one sure way of destroying it would be to have Peter Cortland suspect him of carrying on with his lovely wife. In essence, he decided, he would just have to play it cool, leave the whole performance to her and watch it develop. After all, she had initiated this afternoon's meeting with him. He smiled inwardly as his cab pulled out of the main stream of traffic and parked before the Cortland's luxurious apartment building.
He was feeling pretty much in command of himself when he rang the buzzer, but when she opened the door attired in the tiniest wisp of green bikinis, his prepared composure seemed to disintegrate and he could do nothing but stare at the nine-tenths of her exposed loveliness, his eyes immediately engorging themselves upon the slightly-tanned, satin-like skin that coated her lushly soft, girlishly firm,-contours.
"Darling," she greeted him, smiling warmly. "I was just about to slip into something when you rang. I've been taking a sunbath on the deck. I must've dozed ... didn't realize it was so late..."
Then, without preamble, she moved in close to him, her whole voluptuous length pressing tightly and hotly into him, her erectly pointed breasts flattening against his lower chest as her arms snaked around his neck and her belly and prominent pelvic mound ground snugly to him. Amazed at her audacious swiftness, Mark could neither breathe nor speak. Automatically, his hands closed on the velvety smooth flesh at the small of her back and he felt the muscles rippling lightly as a little tremor of delight passed over her and her moistly parted lips planted themselves upon his own.
"Isn't that just about where we left off yesterday, lover?" she said, eventually drawing back and smiling languidly up at him.
Mark raised his head, half sighing, half gasping, but still holding her. "I-I ... ah . . .don't recollect much of anything right at the moment," he managed, feeling his restlessly stirring penis beginning to respond to her lewd pelvic movements.
She tittered lightly, kissed him on the nose and backed out of his arms. "You are a dear," she said matter-of-factly. "I think we're going to get on famously ... but first, to business, eh? Come, sit down and I'll mix us a couple of drinks to chat over." She started off and he gaped after her, his brain fast intoxicating itself on the lithe suppleness of her magnificent body, enhanced now by her practiced walk in the inch or so of heel on the golden sandals she wore. He could feel his awakening cock moving into a state of embarrassing rigidness, and when she looked back over her shoulder he saw that her eyes locked immediately on his bulging trousers in amused delight. "Problems, darling?" she teased.
Mark sensed his face flushing slightly. He cleared his throat. "Wh-Where is Mr.
Cortland?" he heard himself question.
She had paused and was holding out her hand for him. He moved up to her and she caught hold of him, leading him into the luxurious living room. "Working, lover, like any good bread-winner would," she replied, leading him to a chair. "Now, you sit here while I mix."
He watched her move gracefully around the bar to prepare the drinks, and then gulped as she came toward him, carrying a drink in either hand, her sensuously delightful body completely captivating him. He struggled to keep his wits, accepted the drink and watched her curl into a chair facing him, her long shapely legs folded beneath her. She was smiling finally.
"You wanted to talk business, Mrs. Cortland?" the investment broker said in an effort to break the ice.
"Oh, darling, call me Sara, please." She tilted her head cutely, her dark eyes dancing for him. "I was certain we had at least passed beyond that point." She leaned forward slightly, presenting him with a spectacular view of her ample cleavage. "Tell me, how much does getting Peter's account mean to you?"
"A great deal everything right now, as a matter-of-fact," he said, afraid any moment that he would awaken to find it all a dream.
"You were a broker with the Curren Company weren't you, darling?" Sara said, sipping at her drink.
Mark tasted his own. It was Scotch and soda and potent. He nodded to her question. She had evidently been doing a little investigating, or perhaps her husband had.
"And now you're a partner in a new company, and this account would literally make you, wouldn't it? Put you in business, that is...? "
Again, he nodded. "It would."
"Married?"
"Divorced," he answered.
"Who's the little girl you live with?" Sara asked, watching him carefully as she raised her glass to her lips once more.
"A friend," said Mark, a bit irked at the question. "An arrangement of convenience."
"Is she good? In bed, I mean?"
Goddamn! This chick didn't pull any punches, he thought, feeling his face flushing once more. "That's an unfair question," he said, managing a grin. "I respectfully decline to answer on the grounds that it might tend to incriminate me."
The exotic woman laughed. "A gentleman, no less." She shrugged her pretty naked shoulders. "No matter. Peter tells me she is pretty good, and he's an authority. Of course, she's never been to one of our parties, so I have to take his word for it."
Once more Mark gaped at her. He was beginning to wonder if his hearing was doing him justice.
"I shock you, don't I, darling," she said suddenly. "All these questions, the fact that I know so much about you, talking about my husband and another girl...? " She arose quickly and came over to fold herself onto his lap, her arm slipping around his neck, her naked thigh and hip pressuring down meaningfully onto his painfully erect penis. "You're beginning to wonder just what the hell it's all about, right?"
"To-to say the least," Mark answered with difficulty as she leaned over to kiss his forehead wetly.
"All right, I'll tell you," she said, squirming down intentionally onto his still hardening member. "Peter and I live a very full and exciting life. We think we have a perfect marriage. We're both equally lusty and we understand each other's wants and needs. We often entertain a few friends for example ... discreet friends, darling drinks, dancing, some very special adult movies following a little skinny-dipping, private bedrooms and the like ... am I getting through to you, honey?"
Mark swallowed tightly. He wasn't exactly certain what was registering with him at the moment, except that the weight and presence of her softly rounded, near naked contours was increasing his hungering need at an alarming rate. He had set down his drink, and his hand began moving tentatively over the warm, satin-like flesh of her slender waist and upward over her rib cage to her full sensuous breasts.
"Hmmmmm," she cooed responsively to his touch, reaching behind her with her free left hand to untie her bikini top and let it fall into his lap. "You are going to get our account, darling ... and you are going to be my lover, aren't you?"
"Christ!" he gasped as the perfectly shaped mounds of her ripe young breasts came into view, their ruby nipples pointing upward at him and swelling into palpitating hardness before his unbelieving eyes. He clutched one tightly into his hand, the feel of its warm, softly resilient flesh causing his growing cock to jerk uncontrollably as she writhed gently on top of it. With his other hand he drew her head down to him and glued his mouth wetly to hers, forcing his tongue between her eagerly parted lips, beyond the barrier of her white teeth and into the warm cavern of her mouth. She greeted it with a lingual caress from her own, then began to nibble and suck teasingly at his tongue.
Finally, she raised her head as Mark continued to knead and massage her naked breast. "You haven't answered me," she half whispered. "Are you going to take our account?"
"There's no question about it," he said quickly.
"Yes, there is ... one big important question. Will you be my lover?"
He realized suddenly that she was quivering in unsuppressed excitement. She had begun to squirm in his lap and her eyes were searching his almost frantically.
"God, yes," he gasped. "I'll ... I'll be any damned thing you want! But you don't have to buy me. God! For this, I'd buy stocks from you!"
She whimpered then and kissed him hungrily, darting her tiny tongue deep into his mouth and pressing her ripely voluptuous breast tight into his clutching hand. Then, she was on her feet and pulling him up.
"Bring your drink," she ordered, almost breathlessly. "I want you now ... right now!"
She led him in unrestrained eagerness toward the bedroom, her big naked breasts joggling with the effort. Once there, she immediately let go of his hand to wriggle her bikini bottoms down off her rounded hips to the floor. Then the impatient brunette wife jumped onto the large king-sized bed and rolled onto her back in a lewdly spread-eagle position.
She smiled wantonly up at him and said, "Now, undress for me. I want to watch you."
Mark could still hardly believe what was taking place. It was happening too fast for his brain to comprehend. First, the assurance of the account, now this naked vision of pure unadulterated sensuality lying seductively before him, panting for him to fuck her! My God, he had to be dreaming! His eyes played over her lushly displayed contours, and tiny ripples of lust surged through him. Hell, this wasn't a dream! It was actually happening to him! He drank in her erotically naked body and watched the impatient little undulating movements of her hips as she lay stretched out in anticipation before him. He had already discovered the warm magnificent firmness of her high-set breasts, and now he was staring at the enticingly curved and slightly tanned hips that led downward to the delectable sweep of gradually tapered thighs. Up between them, spread invitingly, he could see clearly through the soft dark pussy hair covering her quivering loins, the fleshy pinkness of her exposed vaginal slit, her excitement obvious in the first tiny dewdrops of moisture already glistening there.
"Damn," he growled, "you're a lovely woman!" He still held his drink and was staring down at her. He saw the effect his words had made as she made a little mewling sound, her sensuous hips undulating as if of their own volition, her eyes seeming to glaze slightly.
"Please, darling ... please hurry. I need you now," she pleaded.
He began pulling at his clothes as she watched with a certain fascination, removing everything, even his shoes and socks before dropping his shorts that were trying desperately to contain the now rock-hardened bulge of his monstrous cock. Then, she raised up and leaned forward on an elbow, her eyes fixed upon his muscular loins as he made the unveiling.
"Oh God," she gasped with breathless awe at the unbelievable thick rigidity of his huge masculinity standing out from his hairy loins. She stared at the virile throbbing of the lust-swollen cock head, her tiny pink tongue tracing her painted lip-line passionately. "It's ... it's beautiful! Oh God, lover, bring it here to me," she whimpered, moving over to the edge of the bed to meet him as he approached and stood stark naked before and above her.
Mark felt an uncontrollable spasm tremor through his whole body as she gently let his strained maleness rest in the palm of her warm little hand, slowly circling her fingers about its thickness and sliding the heavy outer skin to and from her, her other hand moving between his hairy thighs to weigh his heavily swinging balls. Then he moaned in delight as her wetly heated tongue darted out to lick at the tiny split in its glans and catch the few drops of excited pre-ejaculate that had oozed out in his mounting desire. He groaned as her hot little tongue continued to lap, kitten-like, against the sensitive head of his wildly throbbing cock, then groaned again as she drew his iron-hard shaft of flesh toward her, opening her lips and drawing it slowly into her warm buttery mouth. Her tongue began a slow swirling motion around the pulsing tip as she kept drawing his thickness in ... in ... in ... until he gaped in utter disbelief as almost all of his long hard penis had disappeared between her softly sucking lips. At last, she withdrew her head, then rolled back onto the bed, her arms and legs open to him.
"Oh God, lover, I want you to fuck me to death with that beautiful cock hanging between your legs!" she breathed up at him.
"Christ!" the young investment broker blurted, the lewd words exciting him further. He climbed onto the bed, half atop her, his hand caressing her soft satiny flesh from her hips to her breasts, kneading, cupping, stroking, his hungering mouth finding her own, his tongue exploring the still poignant taste of his own cock there and adding to his mounting lust.
"You are going to be my baby," she whispered. "Would you like that, Mark, lover? And to be rich and famous besides?"
"All ... all I want is you right now," Mark hissed down at her, smoothing his hand over her tautly rippling belly and below to the silky hair-covered mound that swelled into the wet fleshy lips of her naked cunt. He traced his finger along the pink hair-lined slit up between her quivering thighs to the warm crevice of her soft buttocks, and she gasped upward into his face continuously from the rocketing sensations it set off inside her loins, her hot breath like some rare perfume that he couldn't get enough of.
The young stock salesman ground his ever-hardening cock against her hip while he caressed and taunted the most secret parts of her nakedly writhing body, even as his brain whirled with the fantastic events that had swept him up in less than an hour of his lifetime. Lying here beside her, making love to her, he couldn't help wonder what Peter Cortland would say should he walk through that door. Yet, at the moment, he didn't give much of a damn. He had to have this unbelievably enticing creature, and now! He'd heard about these husband-wife understandings, the swap-arounds, all of it. But to suddenly become a part of it ... God almighty, it was fantastic! Yet, here he lay with this gorgeous creature ... Oooooooh! She had his cock in her hand! She had her mouth clinging to his, sucking and nibbling at his tongue ... and now she was trying to maneuver him over on top of her, between her eagerly spreading legs, wanting his long thick cock in her hot young cunt ... well, so be it!
He responded, moving between her legs, forcing his hands beneath her anus and running them down the soft sensual curves of her back and hips. He could feel the raised ridges of her spine moving almost imperceptibly as she undulated her shamelessly aroused body up against him in a slow teasing rhythm. The sinews of her muscles rippled lightly just under the tanned skin indicating a powerful hidden strength in her body as the tenseness of the cords in her long firm thighs pressed against the outside of his hips. He couldn't help but wonder how they would grip about him later when he had sunk his now throbbing cock deep inside her churning little pussy.
"Oh God, you are something, Mark Andrews! I love your body," she whispered, biting at his lips and grinding the flatness of her belly tightly up to him. Her hands went to his lean, rock-hard buttocks and her nails raked him there, then moved upward the length of his back in a similar pattern. "You're going to be all mine from this moment on, lover. It's important that you understand that," she hissed into his ear. "Do you understand it? Do you?"
He hesitated. "I understand that I'm going to fuck you, and fuck you until you forget where you are or who you are," he rasped down at her. "Do you understand that?"
"Oh God! Lover, yes ... yes! Do it ... do it! Fuck me until I'm crazy! Sink that beautiful cock into my cunt until I go out of my mind, lover! Do that to me! Please ... please! Oh God! Don't make me beg for it any longer."
He forced his hands farther down beneath her, cupping the fullness of her smooth white buttocks in his palms and pulled her open loins up tighter against him. Slowly he guided his hotly throbbing hardness into the wet open slit of her hair-lined cunt, moving it back and forth, up and down, until it was well insinuated within the heated fleshy furrow. Knowing he was driving her almost insane with desire, he began a little tantalizing sawing motion, and sensed her pussy growing hotter and wetter with every passing second. Her grinding buttocks began a more urgent rotation up against his heated loins while the head of his massive cock scraped the erect bud of her tiny clitoris.
Finally, the panting brunette gasped through her teeth at him. "I ... I can't stand it any longer, my lover ... I've got to have it in me. Please ... please fuck me now. I'll do anything you say if you only fuck me..."
Her legs splayed out wide on either side of his body, their strong calves situating themselves against the back of his thighs as she tried to draw him tighter into her.
He kissed her tenderly, almost a brush against her warmly moist lips, and lowering his hand, guided his now aching cock downward between her passion-moistened cunt lips. She trembled all over and cried out as her feverish loins lurched upward at him, the moist open mouth,, of her pleading cunt seeking desperately the blood-filled head of his lust-hardened flesh.
Mark grunted in his own passion, feeling the silken hairs of her frantically searching vagina grazing his aching cock from her erotic movements, and he knew trying to hold back was useless for him any longer. He sucked in his breath and thrust his hips forward, feeling the wetly throbbing mouth of her impatient vagina accepting and then absorbing his throbbing penis right up into her belly with a slight suction sound. Her deeper cuntal muscles immediately set to work on the long hard length of his hotly pulsating cock.
Oh Christ, he thought, he'd never had anything like this! Her hot little cunt sheath was squeezing him like an automatic milking machine. He wouldn't last ten seconds this way. He tried to establish a rhythm, racing his long thick cock the full length of her passage, but her sucking pussy flesh was drawing heavily at the lining of his sperm-filled testicles. His heavy balls slapped hard against the upturned cheeks of her rounded ass, and he felt his rectum constrict. Good God, he thought in near panic, he was going to cum already!
"It's all right, darling," she whispered up at him, into his face, her tongue laving his lips, his nose, his eyes. "Cum hard this time. Fuck into me deep! It's all right. Cum! Cum! Cum! deep up inside me. Cum now." She drew back her legs, thrusting her bucking loins up at him, making her wildly clasping pussy available to his wildest lust-crazed thrusts.
"God! I can't help it!" he whimpered down at her.
"It's all right! Fuck me hard! Cum! Cum way up deep in my belly! Trust me, darling lover! Cum! Cum!"
And he did, his wildly pistoning cock lurching and jerking like some insane wild beast he had no control over, squirting his gushing sperm deep up into the depths of her sucking womb in spasmodic gushes that seemed to rack his whole body as he pumped it into her like a raging uncontrolled river of lust.
He heard himself wail uncontrollably, and as he gasped out his pleasure, he had the strange feeling that she did also, for surely she cried out like a woman in orgasm, and her vagina milked at his spewing cock with a thousand tiny fingers as she writhed and squirmed beneath him with frantic bodily gestures of participating enjoyment.
He fell on top of her because he couldn't hold himself erect. He had, or she had, sapped the strength, the life from him. He collapsed and she caught him in her arms and held him there.
"God almighty ... I couldn't help it!" he blurted down at her, his breathing coming in short heavy rasps.
"It's all right, lover. It's all right," she said softly. "I understand. It happens to all of us ... I mean, all of you." She laughed lightly. "In fact, it makes me quite proud. It means you were susceptible to my charms."
Mark rolled off of her onto his back and lay still a moment. God, he couldn't remember an orgasm that had drained him that way. "God, God, the moment it went in I was dead." He continued to breathe heavily. "I have to hang my head and apologize..."
"You have to have a fresh drink, that's what you have to do," Sara said, hopping from the bed and going to a corner cabinet. "No ice in here, lover, but there's something else. Ever drink Pernod ... I mean the real absinthe Pernod?"
"I ... I don't know. I'll be happy with anything with you." He felt like some kind of failure, even though she was working at proving him different. The insane point of the whole damned thing was that she evidently liked him; no, wanted him. So, what did he have to lose? Now that the sex was past, he could give it some thought sensibly.
"Do you really mean I've got your husband's account?" he asked suddenly. "I mean, I'm a big boy. I can take the bitter with the better."
She came over to the bed, her lithely sensuous body gliding down and jiggling properly. She sat on the edge of the bed and handed him the glass of greenish-yellow liquid. He tasted it, liked its refreshing licorice flavor, and drank heavily. His throat was dry. He felt like a perfect ass.
"Of course, you've got it," she answered softly. "Nothing has changed, lover. You're still my protege, my lover-boy. And we can get a lot more accounts for you, if Peter says so."
"Peter?" he gulped, right after draining his glass, and she scooped it up to go back and refill it. "Why the hell should he say so? Why should he say anything? I may be some kind of nut, but here I am in here making love to his wife while he's working. Can you give any reason why he should suddenly become a top fan of mine?"
Sara returned, handing him his glass. He swallowed a portion of it. She folded herself onto the bed, then leaned back, spreading herself out seductively, her succulent breasts firm and full, her sperm-covered thighs drawn up to protect the sight of her enticing pelvic area. Mark stared at her. Good God, she was so fucking lovely he was beginning to get a hard-on again. Already!
"You've missed the whole point of Peter's and my being together," she said softly, swirling her glass so that the liquid within sloshed high at the edges of the glass. "We understand ... we know the needs and fulfillments every person has individually. We know about variety and the spice of life, as they say. It's made our marriage solid, Mark lover, solid! Example: Peter knows that you're here with me this afternoon, that you and I will have sex...'fuck', if you'd like it in the vernacular. He also knows that when he comes home I'll be here if he wants me. Or, if he's suddenly had an itching toward a Jani Adams, that I'll understand, and won't expect to see him for a day or two or three. Does that surprise you, lover?"
Mark raised up on his elbow and gulped at his glass. Christ, yes, he was surprised, and more than a little bit. What the hell had he gotten himself into? No use denying that Sara Cortland captivated him, but that was understandable. She'd captivate a cigar-store Indian.
Suddenly, he felt her hand moving along his thigh and slipping beneath his recently emptied testicles, cradling them in her hand as if she were weighing them as she watched his face.
"I intend that you'll be a sought-after man in financial circles, Mark Andrews ... lover," she said, smiling into his face from where she lay on her elbow, her one hand tenderly fondling the loose sac that hung between his thighs. "And I also Intend that all should know you belong to me. Are we making any contact, my love?"
Mark felt his flaccid cock give a lurch. The heat from the palm of her hand spread upwards through his satiated loins pleasantly and he gulped at his drink.
He licked his lips. "Are you intending that I should jump through hoops, little girl?"
"Does that help your sex drive?"
"I don't know. It's never come to that," he answered her flatly.
Sara smiled. "I'll never cut you, lover ... if you don't cut me."
Mark smiled back at her. "That sounds like a reasonable deal."
Sara kept playing with his bloated testicles, and his awakening penis continued to grow. She hadn't touched it yet. She was content in just watching it jerk into increasing hardness. Finally, she said: "But...."
"But?"
"I cut awfully easy. My thin skin, I suppose."
Mark studied her. A strong grain of excitement had begun to build inside him because his pulsing penis was getting hard once more. He'd never known what it was to come back so soon with the same woman. The very thought was fascinating him and peaking his ego. This time, it would be different. He was certain of it. He raised his glass and drained it.
"I suggest you get us something to drink," he said, reaching over and cupping her nakedly quivering breast.
"You didn't answer me," Sara said, taking his glass.
Mark smiled. "I'll be anything you want me to be ... lover."
She groaned loudly and kissed him, then moved to the bar. He watched her, the movements of her undulating white buttocks exciting him. So that was the name of the game, he thought. He was an amateur, but maybe, just maybe, he'd learn ... given time.
Sara returned with their drinks, but set them on the night stand, then pushed him over onto his back and climbed above him on all fours, hovering above his continually hardening penis.
"I've waited long enough, lover," she said, stroking his resurrected cock between the flats of her palms in a teasing up and down motion that caused his muscular loins to stir in a little undulating response. Then, she brought her mouth down again on his hardening penis, and Mark sucked in his breath as for the second time she enclosed the whole of his sensitive cock-head between her velvety lips in a warm moist pressure. He watched her lipstick-reddened lips tighten elastically around the rubbery tip just below the rim, trapping it completely inside the heated cavern of her sucking mouth.
"Mmmmmm," he groaned, lifting his head from the bed and staring down at her cock-contorted face. The sight of his pulsating shaft sunk halfway between her tightly ovaled lips had brought him back to complete readiness. She licked and bit at his shaft gently, taking obvious delight in her power to bring it to life again after its total collapse.
Mark felt the fires of desire fast rekindling in his loins. She continued to nibble for a moment longer, swirling her slippery tongue around and around until she was satisfied his huge staff was restored to its full length and power, and then she crawled off him, falling quickly onto her back and spreading her legs wide before his eyes.
"Now, lover ... fuck me! Oh God, fuck me!"
He wasted no time. He came to rest directly between her lewdly open thighs and reached down between them to make the coupling. She was ready and there was no need for any pre-play. He could feel the moistly heated opening of her aroused cunt throbbing in urgent anticipation as he guided his thick ready cock straight into her. He paused for a moment to part her pubic hair, wet now from their first union, with the head of his pulsating shaft, and then, with one long smooth stroke, he rammed into her all the way to her cervix. There was not the slightest resistance, and the smooth wet walls of her steaming little cunt clamped around his invading cock in a moist firmness that almost set him off again.
"Ohhhhhhhhh," she moaned and crooned as he felt her entire insides flowering open to receive him deep down in the secret crevices of her receptive womb. She began to groan and murmur incoherently as he began right off to fuck viciously into her, gritting his teeth with his own building passion. Her sensually naked body followed and began to move in wild abandoned jerks beneath him.
"Ooooooh God, lover ... Ooooohhh ... so good ... your cock, so good! Harder ... fuck it harder! Yes ... yesssss ... like that!" she whimpered as if in anguish, her arms wrapped tight around his neck, pulling his lean muscular chest down tight against the soft whiteness of her flattened breasts.
Mark rammed his lust hardened cock up even deeper into the warm resilient channel of her sperm-lubricated cunt, feeling the whole of her belly opening receptively to his pistoning strokes. Her supple young body jerked and twisted, and she moaned ceaselessly, her face contorted in ecstatic passion. Her mouth moved with spasmodic little tremors and her nostrils flared in the untamed animal desire that had seized hold of her whole being as though it were writhing in the throes of a convulsion. Her forehead had suddenly become coated with a film of glistening sweat that had broken out beneath her mussed dark hair. It was as if nothing could stop her wild race for fulfillment now, and Mark fucked like an insane man to end it for her.
"Oh Oooohh God yesss ... do something! Shove your finger in my ass, lover! Shove it in, please!" she cried blindly up into the room as he cupped his hands under her wildly pumping ass-cheeks and raised them up off the bed for greater access to her pleading loins. Then, he reached down between her frantically trembling buttocks with the tip of his outstretched middle finger for her puckered little anus ... until he found it.
A tiny rivulet of warm moisture had dribbled down her widespread cuntal mouth where his now throbbing penis was sliding sleekly in and out. Her liquid passion dampened the tightly constricted anal hole, lubricating it sufficiently for his experimental probes; then, he pushed hard, feeling it give almost reluctantly, until all of a sudden the elastic nether ring opened before his pressure; his finger popped smoothly inside the rubbery soft channel and slid up to the first knuckle joint. Her body jerked forward beneath him, and she gasped out her pain.
"Ooohhh God! It hurts!"
He thrust again to the second joint, and her feet jerked out erotically in the air above them, her toes curling inward spasmodically.
"Aggghhhhh! Oooooohhhh Christ .--. . yesssss ... yessssss!" she groaned and, in spite of the obvious pain, he felt her suddenly begin screwing her trembling ass-cheeks back onto his finger until it was sunk to the very palm of his hand. Instantly, he began to rotate it around deep in the hot spongy depths of her rectum.
Mark now fucked into her tight little pussy with all the strength of his hips and thighs, and could feel the smooth wet flesh of her fiery cunt clasping and unclasping like a warm sucking mouth around his hotly pulsating cock-head. He fucked into her from the tips of his toes and rammed the last thick inch of long hard male flesh thundering up into her wide-stretched vagina, raising a new ecstatic wail from the naked brunette's lips as he maintained the same rhythm with his pumping finger deep in her rectum. Her nostrils flared again and her eyes, open wide now, gazed glassy-eyed and unseeing up into his face, a wild and unsatiated desire burning lustfully in them.
"Aaauuuuggghhh, God!" she grunted as he buffeted her in perfect cadence between his finger and ever expanding penis, dually ravishing her wetly flowing genitals, a masochistic pleasure filling her from her loins to the top of her head. Her arms that had been wrapped tightly around his neck with her nails digging frantically into the flesh of his back, slithered down and sadistically dug into his buttocks as he pounded down into her unprotected vaginal orifice.
Wet smacking noises resounded obscenely through the room with each brutal pile-driving lunge he made into her while his finger skewered into her tightly clasping anus with unceasing fury. Her flesh was slippery from the sweat pouring out of her gyrating body, and her head flailed uncontrollably back and forth on the coverlet beneath her. Her mouth had fallen wide open in ecstatic abandon; she had become something almost inhuman as she twisted and churned, spreading her legs wide apart and jerking them up to her shoulders, egging him on.
"Ooo! Oh ... deeper, lover! Harder! Fuck me, fuck me hard, lover!" she begged, her climax obviously nearing, and Mark breathed a silent prayer of gratitude.
He pulled his finger from her rectum, making a lewd sucking sound, and she swung her strong smooth thighs up and wound them around his back, waving her naked ass-cheeks wantonly from side to side and spiraling her moistly clasping pussy up and down on his thick jerking cock.
"Oh God! Oh Christ! I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" she suddenly coughed at him with a gasp of intense passion, locking her ankles in a death grip high up behind his laboring back. At the same time her arms snaked around his neck, her wet open mouth smashing against his own, as her wantonly aroused body arched and she held tightly to him, not moving but quivering and jerking in a pulsating rhythm that spewed her orgastic fluid out around his hard-driving cock and down the wide-split crevice of her ass-cheeks, soaking his swaying balls as they slapped hard into her puckering anus.
Although he had been drained dry only a short while before and wondered if he'd be able to cum again ever, the wildness of Sara's orgasm had started a slow aching pressure deep in Mark's sperm-laden balls again, and he gripped the supple cheeks of her still madly rotating ass and squeezed with crushing strength, feeling her cringe as great gasps of passion began spewing from his own throat.
"Oh ... oh, oh, oh," he grunted suddenly increasing the viciousness of his strokes, his pelvis smacking brutally against the ragged pink flanges of her orgasming cunt. His long throbbing cock drove deep down into the furthest hidden recesses of her insanely quivering belly and dimly he heard her screeching out her second ... and then her third, orgasm.
He felt himself cumming and, throwing his hands down behind her knees, shoved her sleek trembling thighs up over her shoulders, grinding down into her wetly yielding cunt as far as he could go, raising groans of quivering passion from her lips still locked tightly to his. He gasped into the moistness of her mouth, felt the cum exploding from his churning testicles, heard her whimpering cry of delight as she tightened her arms around his neck, and then with a soul-shattering grunt he erupted into her, spewing his hot liquid sperm deep up into the warm depths of her greedy little belly.
And then, there was no more, and he collapsed, rolling off her onto his back with a deep, heavy sigh of exhaustion.
"My God, lover, you were beautiful," Sara said, raising up over him to kiss him tenderly on the mouth. "You were absolutely beautiful, really!"
"After I got my bearings," said Mark, secretly pleased with his own performance. "But it was you, baby, not me. That magnificent body of yours, and knowing how to use it..."
"Mmmmmmmm," she cooed, snuggling close to him. "You say the nicest things, lover. I'll just bet you and I are going to have a great time together."
Mark smiled over at her. God, he could still hardly believe it was all true. All this and heaven too, he thought.
"You can bet on that, honey," he said, slipping his arm beneath her and bringing her nakedly trembling body tight in against him. "You can bet every cent of your money on that."
CHAPTER FIVE
A real elegance existed in the immaculate decor of Marilyn Drew's luxurious apartment, taking Lisa's breath away when she first entered. It was done entirely in white, from carpet to ceiling, furniture and appointments, even white bric-a-brac. Occasionally, an edge, a line, or a thread of gold appeared in contrast, but was immediately lost in the pureness of the overall decor. The combined effect of the front room, where Lisa stood in unabashed awe of her surroundings, was to give an atmosphere of antiquity, of serene and almost impersonal Greek-like intelligence.
Lisa had gotten in touch with Marilyn Drew less than a week after her unfortunate experience with Kurt Mertz. It had not taken the unpublished authoress long to realize that Mertz was going to be insatiable in his sexual demands of her, and yet unwilling, or unable, to help her with her book. She tried not to chastise herself too severely for her mistake that night after he'd invited her to dinner, though she did feel terribly guilty about it. She tried to tell herself that she'd been naive, susceptible, but nothing more, a victim of his smooth talk and her own desire for success. Still, in the back of her mind, she could not escape the realization that, far from being a passive victim, she had ultimately been aroused and sexually satiated by Mertz's grotesque seduction that evening. For this reason, more than any other, she had refused to accept his subsequent invitations, and she'd soon found the manuscript she'd given him returned to her mailbox, with a cutting note to the effect that, apparently the book had not been as good as he'd originally thought.
Lisa had only waited a day after that before calling Marilyn Drew. The young divorcee remembered the imposing woman clearly from her dinner at the Four Corners, and hoped that Miss Drew's offer to read her manuscript had not been idle conversation. On the phone, when Lisa had finally summoned up the nerve to call. Miss Drew had seemed to remember her clearly, and had accepted the manuscript with alacrity. Lisa had expected she'd take at least a week to get to the book, and was more than surprised when she received a call the very next day, setting up an appointment to discuss the manuscript with her.
And so, here she was, standing in the entry hall to Marilyn Drew's abundantly luxurious apartment. It took up one whole floor of an imposing building only blocks from Washington Square in Greenwich Village, and had its own elevator stop, which opened right into the front hall. A maid had met Lisa as she'd stepped out of the elevator and had disappeared into the apartment to announce her arrival. Soon she was back, motioning Lisa to follow her. Lisa did so with her heart in her throat, but certain of at least one thing; at least Marilyn Drew was a woman, and she wouldn't have to worry about fending off some male agent's clumsy advances.
The uniformed maid led Lisa through the enchanting living room, and into the archway of a pair of open double doors, the entrance-way to the smaller and more intimate room where Miss Drew evidently worked. Lisa saw the alluring woman before she looked up, gowned in white silk, diaphanous and flowing, a near replica of the stunning costume she'd worn that night at the Four Corners. What appeared to be several manuscripts rested on a small table beside her as she reclined leisurely on a love seat, her raven black hair tumbling long and freely about her shoulders, her huge collie, Duke, gazing up at Lisa from where he lay at her feet. The maid announced Lisa before the woman looked up.
"Lisa Andrews, dear, do come in," she said without rising, her lovely smile warm and welcoming.
"Thank you. I'm not too early, I hope," the young blonde replied, noting quickly that the room was a combination study and lounge, embellished in the same chaste hue and manner, with a large circular bed-like couch at the far end.
"No, not at all," Marilyn Drew assured her, while her sparkling onyx eyes swept the length of her beautiful blonde guest with one approving, if calculating, glance. "You may leave us, Margot ... unless Lisa would like a drink. I never touch it myself, but you go right ahead, dear."
"No ... no, thank you," Lisa said, turning to the attractive young girl whose chick black uniform seemed almost in harsh contrast to the resplendent surroundings.
"Come sit," Marilyn Drew invited, motioning toward a chair only a few feet from, and facing her. Lisa did. She was experiencing a certain stomach-chilling spasm of anticipation that caused her to tremble nervously.
"I do a great deal of my work right her," the exotic woman said in her throaty voice, gesturing at their surroundings with a slender and delicate hand. "It's so much more conducive to accomplishment than a stuffy office, don't you think, dear?"
"It's beautiful," said Lisa, feeling free to look about her once more.
"And so are you," Marilyn Drew said huskily.
Lisa's eyes came back to her quickly with embarrassment. She didn't know what to say.
The statuesque literary agent smiled. "I can help you, dear. I know what you're after, and what you must go through to get it," she said levelly. "But it's the same for all of us; good things don't come easily. We must give to receive ... it's part of life. Have you learned that yet, dear?"
Lisa's nervous apprehension had suddenly increased. The woman was obviously referring to her stupid affair with Kurt Mertz. Was she guessing, or did she actually know the truth? She felt her cheeks flushing.
Marilyn Drew leaned forward and patted her knee affectionately, her smile warm and understanding. "Never mind, pet," she said softly. "We women have all been hustled down the road of humiliation before. You mustn't condemn yourself." Her hand rested warmly on Lisa's knee. "Remember what I said to you at the Four Corners? That we females must stick together?"
Lisa nodded, trembling lightly as Marilyn's exciting eyes seemed to penetrate to her very soul. She sensed the increasing pressure of the slenderly delicate hand on her leg, and then the stunning woman straightened and leaned back in her corner of the love seat once more.
"And so we shall, dear," the agent said, almost regally. "Now, tell me all about yourself: your childhood, boy friends,-likes and dislikes, wants and needs. You see, dear, I must know a client almost intimately to be of any real help to them. Later, over dinner, we'll discuss your book and our plans for it, and after ... well, let's just take it as it comes, eh? Now, you go ahead, darling, just start talking."
Lisa felt quite compelled to obey her, the woman's dominating personality seeming to subjugate her. She began talking nervously at first, but gradually with increasing confidence as she gave a brief resume of her life, of Mark and their short marriage, surprising herself as she unfolded the whole history of her frigidity and its cause, but opening up even more as Marilyn Drew expressed her sympathy and understanding. Time seemed to race by as they talked, and Lisa became less and less inhibited, enchanted with the stunning woman's tender insight.
They dined by candlelight in the small dining room, then returned to the study where Margot served them a sweet coffee and was dismissed for the night. Actually, Lisa's story had kept them in conversation, and they had yet to get to her book, but they had reached that point when the woman suddenly got to her feet and crossed the room to her desk.
"I never drink," she said over her shoulder, "But I do have other vices."
She smiled beautifully and Lisa watched her. The beauty of the woman entranced her. She obviously wore nothing beneath the sheer gown of clinging white silk, and her breasts and pubic area became enticingly visible when the folds of silk fell just right, or became molded to her lushly curvaceous body. Unaccountably, Lisa felt a mixture of excitement and revulsion at the sensuous stimulation the sight was causing her.
The exotic agent returned with a small silver tray of what looked like thin brown cigarettes, and held it out in front of her.
"What are they?" the lovely blonde girl questioned.
Marilyn smiled. "You mustn't question the hostess, dear," she said lightly. "Try one, you'll like it."
Lisa took it and Marilyn lit it for her with an ivory based table lighter, after which she lit her own. As the woman returned to her love seat, Lisa purposely sniffed at the sweet-smelling smoke drifting up from the lighted end.
"It almost reminds me of some kind of incense," she said in all innocence.
"Try a few puffs. If you find it unpleasant, put it out."
Lisa dragged at it.
"Slowly, dear, at first," the woman said. "Like this..." and she drew in gently, but deeply, inhaling in the same manner.
Lisa did as she was instructed, finding the taste strange but not unpleasant. She repeated the act, taking more and drawing it deeper down into her lungs, holding it there for a few seconds in the manner of her hostess. Neither spoke for a passing of minutes while Lisa continued to experiment. After a few inhalations, she could barely notice it going down, it was so smooth. Finally, she took a long, deep measure of the smoke and held it as long as was Marilyn Drew across from her.
"It's marijuana, isn't it?" Lisa heard herself say, but her voice sounded a distance off.
"Hashish, dear ... the very best." The woman's voice came to her seemingly from a distance, also. "Do you like it?"
"I-I really can't say," Lisa laughed lightly, feeling strangely soft and wonderful. The longer she held the smoke in her lungs, the more elated she seemed to become. She saw Marilyn's beautiful face smiling at her from what suddenly seemed way off. She was such a beautiful, beautiful woman, and she was speaking.
" ... will require considerable re-writing, but I'll help you with it. We can work here, darling. You can move in with me, and we'll just spend all of our time together until it's finished ... you, Duke and me ... it's going to be heavenly, dear, ... just the three of us..."
Lisa saw her rise, almost float to her feet, and she was coming toward her, holding out her hands. Slowly, Lisa rose to her own feet, feeling as if she were drifting ceilingward, a momentary fleeting trace of apprehension endeavoring to make itself felt, but passing immediately in the aftermath of warmth the cigarette had spread throughout her entire being.
The apparition seemed to engulf her as suddenly she sensed the delicately slender hands on her breasts, causing a melange of mixed emotions within her mind and body, yet she had no power nor desire to resist. She felt as if mesmerized in her state of delicious intoxication as the delicately exquisite face moved closer to hers and its soft mouth closed down upon her own, tenderly, warmly ... and ultimately, with a growing urgency.
Her own mouth felt strangely soft in response, and she sensed her lips being pressed apart by a sweet-tasting tongue slipping between them into her mouth as Marilyn's stomach and loins began an intimate undulating motion.
The young girl was scarcely aware of the motion, had been scarcely aware of anything since the first few puffs of hashish had stilled any awareness that what was happening to her was not a dream, but reality. As though she were in fact simply having a lovely dream, the thought never crossed the naive young writer's mind that Marilyn Drew, even though she was a woman, might be interested in her only for the reasons that the obesely repulsive Kurt Mertz had been.
"You are a beautiful girl, Lisa dear," the husky voice whispered hotly into her mouth. "And I am going to help you be what you want to be, just as you must help me be what I am."
"I-I ... what do you want ... me to do?" Lisa managed, slipping even more into the ecstasy of her dream world.
Marilyn kissed her again, and Lisa met the tongue this time with her own as she felt gentle hands caressing her throbbing young breasts and moving over her body with an intimate tenderness that seemed to fill her very heart with affection for this exotic older woman. She felt the hands stroking her suddenly tingling buttocks and drawing her in closer to the protective embrace.
"I'm going to undress you now, darling," the smoky voice breathed, and the drugged young blonde said nothing, as though she hadn't heard, merely glided across the room with Marilyn to the circular couch where expert fingers began to move excitingly over her, removing her clothing quickly.
Again, a brief sensation of repugnance flittered through Lisa, but she would not let it dwell there. Something horribly fascinating, strangely forbidden and sensuously beautiful was happening to her, and she wanted it, whatever it was, to continue. And then, she was suddenly naked, and so was the magnificent older woman before her. The cool air was bathing her fevered body, bringing her ruby nipples to a rigid hardness as Marilyn pressed closer to her, gently grinding her own ivory nakedness against Lisa's supple flesh, their burgeoning nipples touching, their tautly erect breasts flattening against one another's, their smooth thighs meeting as did the soft silken thatches of black and golden pussy hair up between their entwined legs.
Lisa gasped with the erotic tremor that rippled over her now highly sensitive flesh and through her drug-dazed mind, as the exotic woman's hands caressed her nakedly exposed buttocks, spread them open and tenderly slipped between to stroke her tight little anus with a knowing and gentle finger. Once more, Lisa trembled with forbidden delight, and suddenly Marilyn's hands slithered down her rounded hips and smooth tapering thighs as the older woman dropped to her knees before the young girl and began kissing her inner thighs, working slowly upward to the golden-haired flanges of her innocently trembling little cunt.
Marilyn Drew's onyx eyes sparkled like gems as they locked on the narrow pink slit where already a tiny dewdrop of moisture glistened from the drugged girl's building passion. Greedily, she flicked out her tongue-tip, swiping its pungent deliciousness up into her eager mouth; then, in one lick, she drew her tongue from the smooth cleft between Lisa's tensed buttocks, lightly tracing the thin line separating her moistening vaginal lips upward to its very peak, and felt the tremor ripple over the gorgeous girl's salaciously naked body. With her thumbs, she spread apart the fleshy pink pussy lips until Lisa's hooded clitoris came into full view before her; then, she expertly swirled her tongue around it, smiling as Lisa moaned aloud.
Marilyn quickly pressed the trembling young blonde backwards to the bed and, as she fell onto it, Lisa felt her thighs immediately being raised back up toward her shoulders. She lifted her head to watch the lustfully smiling, woman's face bury itself into her helpless loins, and felt the long black tresses grazing against the soft flesh of her belly as the female agent began to lick and suck at her shimmering cunt with a skilled fury and hunger.
Lisa's soft cloud of a few moments before had begun to wear thin, and she found herself wishing she had smoked all of the cigarette, or had another. The lewdly exciting sensations Marilyn Drew was causing to tingle in her undulating loins and flutter through her abdomen were breathtaking, yet even as she began to writhe and squirm beneath the hotly licking tongue and eagerly sucking lips, revulsion toward this obscene lesbian performance was growing within her. Her upbringing and natural instincts were in direct opposition, although she well knew that such perversions went on in the world all around her, she had never in her remotest dreams believed that she could be a party to such an act. But here she lay, on her back with her legs raised high and her thighs widespread beneath this beautiful creature whose mouth and tongue were bringing her unbelievably forbidden pleasure. Success! That was the important thing, wasn't it? Success! Dear God, letting this woman make her strange perverted kind of love to her was worse than what she had gone through before with that ugly brute, Kurt Mertz!
Oh God! Now Marilyn was sucking her pulsating clitoris and nipping at it with her pretty white teeth, sending almost violent spasms of pleasure spiraling through her. It was near maddening ... erotically maddening. Then, the lesbian literary agent's rapier-like tongue was sliding smoothly in and out of the warmly wet walls of Lisa's desire-moistened vagina, and the young blonde knew her traitorous cunt was dilating in lewd eagerness to the obscene lovemaking. Abruptly, she felt her buttocks being raised by those slender hands cupping the fully rounded cheeks so lustfully, and she voluntarily held her knees tight to her breasts as she felt the delicious tongue trail downward through the smooth crevice between her exposed buttocks to her excitedly puckering anus. Lisa wanted to scream in rapture as she felt its wet little tip penetrating only a fraction of an inch into her anal ring, even though she tried to help by relaxing to the fullest degree. Once more, the tongue returned to her now feverishly throbbing cunt, sliding up into her as though it was a penis, then flicking back to her maddeningly erect clitoris as the pressure built in her aching loins.
Lisa remembered how she had cum with Kurt Mertz, the first time in her life, and she realized these were the same mounting sensations she had experienced then. Suddenly, her whole mind and body wanted that, wanted to cum, wanted the intoxicating release that would sweep through her, then...
But, Marilyn raised her head and smiled. Slowly, Lisa lowered her legs. "Come down and kiss me," the woman said, her beautiful face glistening from the cuntal secretions.
Lisa sat upright and wrapped her arms around the agent's long slender neck and planted her lips on the moistly glistening mouth that tasted of her own wet vagina. The reaction set off wild sensations coursing through her drugged young mind.
Marilyn pressed her away. "It's time for another cigarette," she whispered huskily. "Yes, yes..."
"We'll share it ... just as we're going to share many things to come, my beautiful, golden goddess."
Lisa watched the movements of the statuesque, yet fully feminine body cross the room. Her eyes clung to the joggle of her naked buttocks and a strange new excitement tingled within her. She doubted that she had ever fully realized the beauty in a woman's body, the erotic enchantment of it, the desire it could create in another female.
Marilyn returned, dragging deep and holding the marijuana smoke in her lungs before she lay down on the bed beside and extended the cigarette. Lisa took it and inhaled.
God! It was unexplainable in words. How did one describe rapture? She sucked deep and held it, the velvety softness immediately swooping down to envelop her. She handed the cigarette back to Marilyn and simultaneously reached for the older woman's full breast with her other hand.
"I think you're beginning to come to me," Marilyn said, smiling knowingly.
"Yes ... oh, yes," Lisa murmured dazedly, moving close to the other's warm naked body and trying to cuddle against it.
Marilyn took the young blonde into her arms and smiled down in triumph. She placed the cigarette between her own lips and ran her hand down over Lisa's soft belly and down to the girl's wetly waiting cunt, drawing a finger up between its puffy, lust-engorged lips.
Lisa whimpered and tried to move closer, and Marilyn took her own breast and pressed the huge nipple into Lisa's surprised mouth. She began to suck hungrily as her own hand came up to hold it.
"You like that?" Marilyn whispered.
"Mmmmmmm. Mmmmmm," the young divorcee moaned.
"Here, pet, you need a couple more drags before we put this out."
Lisa raised up and took the cigarette, dragging deeply and holding the enticing smoke in her lungs as long as she could without breathing.
Then, Marilyn took it from her and put it out. A moment later, she had straddled Lisa's prostrate form, moving up until her nakedly rounded buttocks flattened the young blonde girl's breasts to her chest. Lisa looked up at her knowingly, expressing no emotion openly. Marilyn raised up until her dew-dropped pussy was directly over Lisa's open mouth, and the young girl's tongue flicked out obediently to spread the black pubic hair by licking up through the length of her seducer's warmly perfumed slit.
"Unnnnngggghhhhh!" Marilyn groaned with pleasure.
Lisa reached up with her hands and caught tight to the beautiful woman's hips, pulling her naked voluptuousness down closer to her mouth as she ran her tongue through the flowering cunt ... exploring clitoris, vagina, anus, as her own desires continued to mount within the filmy rapture clouding her brain.
Marilyn scrambled off her suddenly. "You know, there's a very hungry male involved with us," she said.
Lisa could no longer think intelligently through the fog of her drug-induced euphoria, but merely stared. "Duke," Marilyn said, her eyes not leaving the youthfully naked form spread out before her. "We must never forget Duke. He's my love when all else is disgustingly sickening."
Lisa endeavored with difficulty to try and categorize her statement. It made no sense, nor did any of this really, for she was entirely out of her mind and she knew it. She was completely overwhelmed with drug paralysis, beautiful though it was; but there was reality somewhere ... soon ... at least, in the morning.
"You are golden," the scheming agent said, interrupting her thoughts. "Duke prefers the blondes to the brunettes, they're so much like him. Darling, turn over on your knees, with your beautiful ass in the air."
"Wh-what...? "
"Turn over!" Marilyn commanded, and Lisa did, onto her knees as ordered, raising her naked white buttocks in the air.
"Duke! Come!"
Lisa felt the weight of the dog leap onto the bed, yet, she didn't see him because he remained behind her, and as her belly constricted and she looked sideways at Marilyn's face, she saw the woman's eyes gleam as she pointed at her upraised buttocks. Lisa blanched as she suddenly, through her drugged senses, realized what the strange Marilyn Drew intended! She tried to move, tried with all her will power to force her hashish controlled limbs to respond to her commands, to raise her off this bed, to carry her out of this apartment to safety: and yet it was impossible! Try as she might, it only took the slightest pressure from her seductress' hand to force her to remain in her lewdly kneeling position on the bed. It was as though she were completely paralyzed by the potency of the strange drug she'd so unwittingly consumed.
Lisa felt the warm air of Duke's breath sniffing at her proffered loins, and she looked to" Marilyn who was smiling vacantly. The kneeling young blonde wanted to scream, but suddenly she felt the dog's wet nose against her tightly puckered anus and the resulting sensations blocked everything else out. She felt Duke's long wet tongue snake out and lick moistly up and down the crevice between her ass-cheeks, taunting her tightly clenched anal ring. She tried to steel herself and had started to protest aloud when the beautiful collie began licking her defenselessly exposed vaginal slit. She felt his tongue running the full length of it, and then sensed Marilyn's hands on her leg.
"Spread your legs wide apart ... farther!" the lesbian snapped. "Open your cunt to him."
"My God! What are you...? "
"Do as I tell you!" Marilyn ordered, and Lisa did without meaning to, without wanting to, out of a barely understood need and fear.
Duke ran his moistly heated tongue the full length of her open loins, from the tightly-closed little star of her anus down beneath the sensitive nerve endings of her quivering cuntal lips, even to the top where his tongue lapped like velvet at her aroused clitorial bud. He repeated it time and again, his tongue laving through her hair-covered genitals with an expertise that showed he had done this a thousand times, spreading her open in the tenderest parts until she began to tremble at his hungry lapping and sniffling of her lewdly splayed loins.
Once more, Lisa looked in speechless supplication to Marilyn Drew, realizing the futility of the gesture even as she did it, angry with her own self in her fluffy world as the exciting sensations she was beginning to perceive began to take command of her.
My God! She couldn't let this despicably lewd thing happen to her!
She whimpered aloud as Duke drew his long thick tongue the length of her quivering pussy furrow. Then, paradoxically, she tried to widen her knees a little farther to open the throbbing pink gap to him. His animal tongue thrust up into her moist split like some cool wet cock ravishing her loins mercilessly. She moaned aloud as she saw Marilyn squirming down beneath her face and drawing her legs back to her breasts so that the raven-haired cunt was completely exposed to her.
Suddenly, Lisa felt Duke mount her, his furry body crowding in toward her helpless buttocks, his forelegs clutching at her hips. The animal's lashing tongue had set her feverishly throbbing vagina afire with desire, and as she turned her head she caught the entire reflection of their obscene performance in a strategically placed wall mirror: the sight of the beautiful collie mounting the spread moons of her trembling white buttocks, and the sight of Marilyn lying on her back with her thighs pulled back in lewd presentation of her moist pink cunt to be licked, sent wild and lascivious sensations surging through Lisa's drug-saturated mind and body. The helpless young blonde saw the reflection of Duke's long scarlet penis shoot forth from its furry sheath, wet and hard, the tapered end slipping and dancing in the wet split of her eagerly trembling cunt, and she felt his strong animal body jerk against her as he tried to penetrate her vagina with his long pointed shaft.
"Help him, pet," Marilyn said as she, too, watched glazed-eyed, in the mirror, her own hand moving down between her raised thighs as she slipped her probing index finger in and out of the desire-lubricated lips of her own contracting cunt.
With an unrestrained moan, Lisa shifted her smooth round buttocks about in an effort to capture the dog's lengthening cock, the tension within her mounting to a near unbearable point. Oh God! She wanted that long slippery animal penis inside her ... had to have it up inside her belly before she went mad with her building need. She reached back, grasping the slippery organ and guided the pulsating tip of it to the mouth of her wetly waiting vagina. Immediately Duke thrust, spreading her tight little cunt open wider and wider as he hammered his long hot cock deep up into her eagerly squirming pussy.
Marilyn watched in lewd fascination as the thick scarlet shaft slithered brutally forward until it was sunk to its hilt, Duke's hairy balls swinging between the young girl's widespread thighs.
"Oh God!" Lisa moaned aloud, her eyes wide but glazed as the brute fucked into her from behind while she stared down at Marilyn's finger pistoning in and out of the pink vaginal furrow only inches from her face. "Ooooohhhh, ooooohhhhh, ooohhhhh," she chanted almost in relief, and she began to move backward rhythmically to meet the dog's powerful strokes into her wildly rejoicing pussy.
Marilyn watched as if hypnotized, her fingers pummeling her own ecstatic cunt while her eyes locked on Lisa's beautifully contorted face, enraptured by the delicious fucking Duke was giving her. She watched the young writer's taut full breasts dancing and swaying beneath her nakedly writhing torso, keeping cadence with Duke's magnificent cock skewering deeper and deeper into her sweet little cunt from behind, a merciless piston of glistening animal flesh sinking to its full depths into the innocent young divorcee's belly.
Suddenly, Marilyn entwined her fingers in Lisa's hair and pressed the young blonde's face downward into her burning loins. Without a second's delay, she felt the girl's quivering wet tongue begin to lick at her most sensitive flesh, felt ovaled lips suddenly begin sucking wildly at her clitoris, felt the wonderful length of Lisa's tongue darting up into her flowing vagina, slashing, swirling, sucking ... and she felt the hot irregular breaths coming in tight gasps against her pussy as the kneeling divorcee rotated her buttocks furiously, grinding them back against the collie like a bitch in heat.
The older woman couldn't stand the erotic lewd sight any longer, nor hold back the climax that was about to erupt inside her wildly pulsing pussy from the beautiful mouthing of her cunt that Lisa was administering. She threw back her head and wailed deeply as the ecstatic bubble burst and waves of wanton pleasure shot through her loins and belly, causing her legs to jerk out spasmodically on either side of Lisa's golden head feasting at her loins.
Suddenly, the young girl lifted her face and cried out a gurgling sound from deep in her chest. Her glazed eyes grew round and wide and disbelieving as she blurted: "Ooohhh God ... I can't stand it ... It's too much ... too much!" And her voice died in a strangled mixture of sob and sigh, her head twisting from side to side, her long blonde hair flailing wildly as she began the first spasms of orgasm, screwing her buttocks back onto the thick animal cock like a wanton slut on a Tijuana stage.
Marilyn Drew watched in the mirror in silent triumph as Duke's tongue hung loosely from the mouth of his noble head, panting and dripping its saliva onto the smooth naked flesh of Lisa's humping back while he fucked into the insanely undulating buttocks from behind with savage fury. Then,, Lisa shrieked and slammed her ass back against the dog with a frantic jerk as simultaneously he thrust forward and his long ejaculating cock began to spew his animal sperm deep up into her belly with long hard spurts. Again, the young divorcee screamed, and her buttocks began to contract convulsively while Marilyn watched the mirror to see the combination animal-human orgasmic liquid ooze salaciously from the girl's tightly clenching little cunt still clasping and squeezing Duke's long cock. Thin rivulets of the sticky white fluid ran down the smooth white columns of her trembling thighs ... and then, Lisa collapsed on top of Marilyn's loins, giving one last sigh of release as she passed out completely.
Marilyn ran her hand through the entangled mass of silky, golden hair and smiled down at her. "You beautiful, lovely bitch," she whispered. "Oh, what wonderful times we three are going to have together."
The lesbian literary agent was to be surprised, though, when she woke up a few hours later, to discover her new-found prize fled, without a trace, taking her manuscript with her.
CHAPTER SIX
Once back in her own apartment, Lisa Andrews came as close to committing suicide as anyone ever can, and it took all the distressed young divorcee's strength to keep from running to her bathroom, throwing open the medicine chest and consuming all its contents. But despite the horror, the utter disgust at what she'd allowed herself to be submitted to at Marilyn Drew's apartment, there was the smallest kernel of strength left at the core of her being, a tiny spark of decency and faith left in the young woman's heart which seemed to balance the desperately suicidal bent of her agonized mind.
For two days she didn't leave her apartment, but merely lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Or she wandered around her tiny rooms in a daze, an uncomprehending pacing that seemed by its very mechanicalness to slowly wear away the awful ache that gnawed at her conscience and her soul. She knew instinctively, though she didn't think about it, that her life had reached its lowest ebb during those few hours with the perverse lesbian literary agent and her dog. That her monumental indiscretion was the ultimate result of her loneliness, her desperation, and her longing for a love which had been missing in her life ever since her divorce. There was no where else she could go; there were no lower depths to which she could sink. She felt as debased and utterly degraded as it is possible for a human being to feel.
And yet, as all things must, even this terrible depression left her in time; and though the torture she'd undergone was to leave its mark for the rest of her life, still, after two days, she was gradually able to function again in something less than a comatose state. The one thought that she was left with at the end of her trial by fire, perhaps the one thought which had enabled her to maintain her tenuous grasp on her sanity throughout her entire ordeal, was that there was no where to go but up. She had survived the swamps of her despair, and she suddenly found herself with, not just the desire, but the almost fanatical compulsion to become the successful writer she'd always dreamed of being.
It was only three days after the debacle, as she began to refer to her dinner party with Marilyn Drew, that Lisa Andrews picked up the phone and dialed the number of Mr. Peter Cortland, the best and most successful literary agent in New York. Perhaps if she hadn't been so desperate, she would never have dared. Perhaps it was only her desperation that gave her courage. In any case, his response gave her a new hope.
"Did you say Kurt Mertz, and the Four Corners, Miss Andrews?" the literary agent questioned into the telephone.
"Yes. Yes, I did, Mr. Cortland. One evening about a week ago." Lisa replied, half smiling to herself with a desperate hope.
"The blonde girl? Long golden hair and ... well ... is that you?"
"I think it is," Lisa said, her smile widening.
"And I said that if Mertz didn't take good care of you to drop around to my office, didn't I?"
"You did."
Peter Cortland chuckled. Then. "Well then, I'm committed aren't I? Let's get that manuscript over here today..."
Two days later, the young novelist was on pens and needles again. Lisa really didn't expect to hear from him for another week at least, but she couldn't help her nervous anticipation. It was a good book and she knew it, historical with a strong love story, the proper amount of sex, and she had based her handsome young hero entirely upon Mark, giving her a strong feeling of closeness to her ex-husband.
Since their divorce there were few hours of a day that passed without something reminding her of this man she loved so deeply, but following the "debacle", when she had nearly done away with herself, she had been content to leave it all to fate. The divorced writer was certain they would meet again one day, and had been ever since that critical moment when her life had taken its dramatic upswing. He still loved her as she did him, she was sure of it; and love would find a way. Maybe she was being a romantic fool, but she was happy in her dream, and it had been this romantic dream world that had partially carried her through her ordeal and helped her retain her wits when everything seemed lost.
It was the waiting for Peter Cortland's call that kept her on edge. Two days became four, then five with no word. She tried to keep busy, settling the apartment and working spasmodically on the outline of her next book, staying entirely to herself, not wanting to revive any of her old ties. By Friday, she had made up her mind to call him, but never quite got to it. Finally, Peter Cortland contacted her.
"It's a good book, Lisa," he said, his deep voice resounding against her eardrum thunderously, "a damn, good book! I've sold it to a publisher in Boston, and right now I'm dickering with one of the major studios on movie rights, which is why I haven't called. I wanted to have some good news for you..."
"You ... you've already sold it?" Lisa stammered, unable to fully comprehend his wonderful words, and sinking weakly down to the floor.
"We'll sign contracts Monday," Peter Cortland said. "Now listen a moment. My wife and I are having a little party at our country place. We're having a few guests, close friends and the like for the week-end. How about you joining us, and we'll have plenty of time to discuss the whole thing."
"Oh ... oh God ... I can't believe it!" Lisa exclaimed, her beautiful face radiant in. her happiness. "Yes, yes, of course, Mr. Cortland. I'd love to..."
"Fine. Tell you what, I'll pick you up in a couple of hours, say around five? It's about an hour's drive from the city."
"All right ... yes, yes ... whatever you say ... I'll be ready," Lisa managed, finally remembering to give him her address before hanging up and collapsing almost lifeless into a chair.
Then, she wept for joy, a full hour passing before she could regain control of her elated emotions again. Finally, she got from the chair to get ready for Peter Cortland's arrival. There was only one thing missing in the whole beautiful picture, she thought: Mark, to help share her happiness with her.
Peter Cortland was most punctual. He rang Lisa's buzzer at precisely five o'clock and smiled down upon her as she opened the door. She had forgotten his exact appearance, having met and seen him only the one time at the restaurant, and she guessed that he, too, was refurbishing his memory bank.
"Damn," he said suddenly. "You're even more lovely than I remembered you."
She felt her face flushing. "Well, thank you, Mr. Cortland," she managed, then spun around to pick up her overnight bag. There was little one could ever say to such a compliment.
"Here, let me have that," he said, moving his big frame into the room and taking the bag from her. "All set?"
"Yes, I think so," she said, and he stepped out ahead of her to wait while she set the lock and pulled the door secure. She smiled up at him.
He took her arm and they walked down the one flight of stairs to the street, while he began to enlighten her on what had happened since she had sent him her manuscript five days before. He helped her into his sports car parked at the curb, and picked up the conversation once he was situated behind the wheel and they moved out into traffic.
" ... Max Dolan, he's senior editor at Lowell Publishing, was really excited over it, but he was trying not to show me," Peter said, his eyes straight ahead on the road. "He was shooting for all rights, which is par for the course, and knew damned well I wasn't going to give them to him." He laughed pleasantly. "Anyway, to make a short story of it, honey, your book ought to be on their late fall list for Christmas, and that's good."
Lisa watched him, her hazel eyes expressing her complete jubilation. "I-I still can hardly believe it's true," she said, shaking her head.
Peter glanced over at her, letting his eyes quickly devour her once more. "Oh, it's true all right, baby. Monday I'll have the movie rights end of it straightened out. So, anymore questions?"
"Only one ... how much money will I get?" Lisa questioned, finally getting to the most important point of all and the one particular he had completely overlooked telling her.
"Didn't I say?" He chuckled. "So, now you know how an agent's brain runs. Frankly, I think mine's been too overcome with the luscious sight of you..." Again, he let his eyes drink of her beauty. "How a little doll like you ever wrote such a book is beyond me. I wouldn't take you for the intellectual type. You're constructed for more ... more intimate things, if you don't mind me saying so."
Lisa felt the flush in her cheeks once again. "The money, Mr. Cortland?" She smiled.
"What? Oh yeah, the money. Well, I figure with movie-rights and all, upwards of a hundred-thousand, probably one and quarter."
"My God! Are you serious?"
"Serious? Of course, I'm serious, and I'm serious about you calling me Peter, too. No more of this 'Mr. Cortland' business." He took his eyes from the road, as they swung onto the freeway, to steal a fleeting glance at her. "I plan that our relationship will be considerably less formal, eh? Don't misunderstand me, honey ... it's just part of our way of life in this business."
Lisa saw the brief flicker of lechery flash across his face. Momentarily though, she was too overcome by the casual figure he had tossed at her. It was overwhelming ... unbelievable! And, then, she again caught the near-licentious gleam and came back to immediate reality. Oddly enough, his underlying meaning hadn't surprised her. In fact, at the back of her mind she had wondered just how long it would be before they reached this point of the game. She had learned much, in a short time, it seemed, but she said nothing, purposely ignoring the remark while she toyed with the idea.
He was far from being a repulsive man like Kurt Mertz, and at least sex with him wouldn't be an abominable perversion such as she had known with Marilyn Drew. It had been a long, grueling, arduous quest, filled with heartbreaks and disappointments. She didn't intend that anything would deprive her of arriving now ... anything at all.
"Hey, are you in some kind of ecstatic coma?" her agent asked, his voice softening without looking at her, his eyes glued to the heavy lanes of traffic leading out of the city.
"I suppose I am," she replied. "But it's all your fault. You've put me there." She paid particular attention to the white at his temples, his strong chin and the hair on the back of his hand as he gripped the small steering wheel. Sex: it was, after all, the hub of everything, wasn't it?
He gave her a quick look and she smiled warmly. It was then that his hand moved over to pat her thigh affectionately.
"You know, I think we're going to get on well, you and I," he said meaningfully. "Make lots of money together, have lots of fun together ... what do you think?"
She continued to smile warmly at him and he kept stealing quick glances at her. He was truly a handsome man. "I shouldn't be surprised," she answered softly, almost suggestively.
"Hell," he said all of a sudden, licking his lips. "How would you like to stop off somewhere, have a couple of drinks, a little party, maybe?"
Lisa felt her breath catch in her throat. Perhaps, she had played it just a bit too easy. She forced a smile, trying not to show her fear or hesitation to his suggestion.
"Should we?" she heard herself say. "I mean, you do have guests you said."
"Yeah, a whole damn house full, too." For the hundredth time he looked over at her, his eyes beginning to overflow with the lust brimming there. "Okay, baby, we'll wait. Let it build. But I'm warning you, you're going to contend with me before the night's out. Otherwise, I'll burst."
Lisa swallowed tightly. A mixture of apprehension and inherent revulsion surged through her which she quickly put from her. She had only to dwell for seconds upon this new full life unfurling before her to put down any qualms she might have. "Well?" he said.
Automatically, she reached to him, placing her hand on his arm. "Whatever you say, Peter ... darling."
He stared, then glued his eyes back onto the road. "Goddamn, he blurted. "And to think, you can write too!"
It seemed to be all Peter could do to keep his attention on his driving and not on his beautiful young client, but he did, and the car finally arrived at its destination out on Long Island. Peter had been telling the truth. In spite of the other homes around, it did seem to be out in the middle of the country, and Lisa was more than impressed as Peter wound his way up the long driveway, weaving in and out of the cars that were already parked along it, finally came to a stop in the spacious garage. Quickly hopping out, he came around to her side of the car, and opened the door. As soon as she stepped out, he swept her up in his arms, pressing her tightly to him.
"How the hell I stood this all the way out here, I don't know," he grinned, and then he kissed her.
The captivation of his masculine dominance quickly put aside any whims Lisa might have had of holding him off. His massive arms swept her tightly to him, and she raised her face to his naturally. His hot mouth engulfed her own, and his tongue plunged between her lips, going deep to the point of nearly choking her.
Lisa felt his huge hands cup her rounded buttocks as the monstrous bulge in the front of his trousers dug into her belly. She sucked and nibbled at his tongue automatically, strangely not at all repelled with the idea, though she'd expected to be.
"God, I want to fuck you!" he hissed, raising his big face from her own to gape hungrily down at her.
Lisa was surprised by a chill of erotic stimulation which shocked her at the sound of the lewd word and its very meaning as he breathed it into her face.
"Yes ... yes..." she whispered with some difficulty.
"Tonight, listen," he managed licking at his lips as his big hands caressed her buttocks, "there'll be a gathering in the nursery, that's the playroom where Sara, my wife, shows stag films and anything else that stimulates. It's a swap arrangement, baby, you know; but I just want to be sure that if I get tied up businesswise, you wait for me. Understand?"
Lisa tried to categorize his rush of words. "A swap arrangement? You mean couples swap mates?"
"Exactly."
"I've heard about it, but....."
"Never mind any of it. You just wait for me, you hear?"
"Yes, Peter. Whatever you say."
He clutched her to him. "You luscious little bitch!" he gasped, and once more his hands went over her before they straightened themselves and entered the house.
There were perhaps some thirty guests milling about the splendid house when Peter placed Lisa in his wife's care, and the attractive woman began to show her about, introducing her as the brilliant new young novelist her husband had discovered. The young blonde caught the twinkling expression of understanding that had earlier passed between husband and wife, and frankly, she hadn't known whether to smile or cringe. However, Sara had quickly put her at ease once Peter had left them to make a few business phone calls.
"One thing about my husband," the ravishing beauty said, "he always brightens up the atmosphere with his choice of girl friends." She was smiling warmly and not at all cattishly, as Lisa might have expected. "You are a breathtakingly lovely girl, Lisa. I do hope you won't turn his head too far from me, and for too long. Really, you know, we love each other a great deal, but we like to think we're rather broadminded about one another's extracurricular activities. We think it's the secret to perfect marital bliss, don't you agree, dear?"
"Well ... I-I really can't say," Lisa stammered, not a little bit jolted by the woman's casual philosophy regarding infidelity, especially her own husband's. Yet, at the same time, she quickly assumed. that Sara Cortland had her playmates also. . "You're not married, dear?"
"No ... I'm divorced," said Lisa. "But please don't get the wrong idea, Mrs. Cortland, I'm not after your husband."
"Of course you're not, darling," Sara put in quickly. "I hope I haven't given you the jealous wife impression," she added, reaching out to take Lisa's hand with a sincere warmth. "Good heavens, anything but that. Peter has his affairs,' and I have mine, and neither of us mind in fact, we encourage it. Peter told me he was going to invite you this weekend, and of course I didn't mind ... my lover is here at the party as well, our investment broker, a darling of a man, and Peter has no objections ... but enough of this. Let me show you around and introduce you to everyone..."
Lisa sipped her way through two martinis while Sara conducted her through her luxuriously modern home. The third drink Sara made for them at the cozy little well-stocked bar in the nursery. It was a large, yet intimate room of soft dark hues, indirect lighting and expensive carpeting. The erotic pictures, statuary and symbols adorning the walls and tables brought a flush to Lisa's cheeks, and the suggestive looking couches and chairs left little doubt of the room's main purpose. She was thankful that Peter had mentioned its existence earlier; it had helped soften the shocking impact.
"You like?" Sara asked, smiling.
"It's unusual, to say the least," the young divorcee replied, gaping at a series of paintings showing a couple in various positions enjoying sex.
"Those are by Mihaly Zichy, the Hungarian painter," Sara enlightened her. "And that is a Picasso," she pointed; "Some erotic Japanese, artist unknown ... those are from the Marquis de Sade's works. Rather enticing, aren't they?"
Lisa could only stare. She had never seen anything like them.
"They cost Peter a fortune, and of course there's no way of insuring them. But you see, only selected and intimate friends get into this room ... and now, you're among them, darling," Sara said, smiling meaningfully. "Well, shall we go down and join the others?"
Lisa took up her drink and accompanied her hostess to the main living room where most of the guests were gathered, endeavoring with considerable difficulty to accept what she had witnessed so far with a woman-of-the-world attitude. She hoped her prudishness wasn't showing through. But God, she had never dreamed such things...
A voice caused her to stop short in her thought. Its particular male timbre sent an emotional sensation rippling up her spine. Then, the voice laughed and she swung around to see him standing there.
"What is it, dear?" Sara Cortland questioned anxiously as her beautiful young guest suddenly paled before her.
"My God!" Lisa exclaimed. "It's Mark!"
Sara stared at her. "Why yes, darling ... Mark Andrews . . .do you know him?"
"Know him? He's my ex-husband!"
* * *
"I-I just can't believe my eyes," Mark Andrews said, shaking his head, smiling, holding Lisa off at arm's length and looking her up and down. "My God, you look wonderful ... more beautiful than ever..."
Lisa beamed at him, her cheeks flushed with the excitement of seeing him again, but it was as if her tongue were tied; she just couldn't speak. He had rushed to her, once he spotted her and the initial shock had passed; then, quickly led her off into another room where they could have some measure of privacy. Sara Cortland had watched the whole performance with a certain growing apprehension, her smile fading as Mark's eyes seemed to brighten unnecessarily at the sight of an ex-wife, a little ridge of white appearing around her mouth when she watched him lead the lovely young blonde off to a secluded corner.
"Good heavens, say something!" Mark said, grinning at her.
"I-I can't..." Lisa blubbered, tears glistening in her eyes. "I-I'm so happy to see you ... how are you. How have you been? Where have..."
"Wait a minute," he said, laughing. "One question at a time." And then, his smile faded, an expression of wonderment taking it's place. "How come you're here, anyway?"
Now, Lisa laughed, and elatedly she told him of her success with her book, keeping it as brief as possible. It was him that she wanted to hear about.
"That's wonderful, Lisa," he said. "Is Peter your agent?"
She nodded enthusiastically and thought she detected the slightest flicker of distaste cross his handsome face. It quickly occurred to her that he was trying to put two and two together and she led him away from the subject.
"Tell me something about yourself," she said, almost breathlessly. "My God, it's been so long, and I had no idea where you were..."
"Nor I, you," he said, his eyes searching her face then trailing down the enchanting contours of the beautiful body that he so well remembered, his mouth going dry at just the thought of her soft naked flesh.
"I've been in New York. Do you remember Charlie Anderson? Well he and I, and another guy, have just formed our own investment company: Anderson, Andrews, . and Miller! Sound impressive?"
"Oh, Mark, yes it does!" Lisa exclaimed with pride, her eyes shining with tears and happiness. "You sound like you've really made it!"
"Well, it's really been touch and go until now," Mark grinned. "In fact, before I came up with the Cortland's account, we were having a pretty tough..."
"You ... You're the Cortland's investment broker," Lisa interrupted, feeling a small lump beginning to form down in the pit of her stomach. "You?"
"That's right, Lisa. To the tune of a hundred grand. Not bad, eh?"
The young divorcee was nodding, but all the time Sara Cortland's words were flashing back and forth across her mind with undeniable insistency. My lover is here at the party as well, our investment broker, a darling of a man...
Confidentially, there's a man here named Rourke who's worth about a million, and before this weekend's over I'll have that deal too," he advised her in a voice just above a whisper.
"I'm happy for you, Mark," she said, but the enthusiasm suddenly seemed to have drained from her voice. "I hope it all works out. Now, I think we better get back to the others."
She started to turn away and he caught her arm. "Hey, for gosh sakes, hold on will you?" He stared at her half smiling, half in wonderment at the sudden change that had come over her. "My God, it's been ... how long? Two years since we've seen one another, and that's all we have to say? How are you?
How've you been? What're you doing? Look, Lisa," he said, his face growing serious, his eyes almost pleading as he moved closer to her. "I've got a great deal more that I want to say to you, things I've said a hundred times to myself at night when I'm alone..."
"Oh?" Lisa made the sound rather sharply. "I didn't think you'd be alone, Mark ... at night, especially."
Mark stared at her, surprised at his lovely ex-wife's sudden change of heart. "What the devil are you getting at, anyway?"
Sara Cortland interrupted him. "So, here's where you two are hiding." She smiled thinly. "Rehashing old arguments, I presume." She linked her arm through Mark's, and Lisa watched his face redden. "Well, darling, Mr. Rourke wants a word or two with us, so I'm afraid your little tete-a-tete will have to wait for another time. You will excuse us, dear ... and oh, I nearly forgot, Peter is looking all over for his little authoress." She leaned close. "Personally, I think he'd like to go over your outline with you ... in private."
Mark glared at Lisa, his own face still a flaming brick-red. He wanted very badly to say something, anything that would cut, but his ex-wife was gone before he could formulate words.
"Well, darling? Are we ready to talk to Mr. Rourke, or are you going to stand here and do a slow burn indefinitely?" Sara needled.
"Wh-What? Oh ... yes," he managed. "Let's go, for Christ's sake!"
As they left the room, Lisa made her way to the bar, picked up another drink, and quickly downed it. She was sick inside, and her rage at what she had discovered existed between Sara Cortland and Mark was turning her inside out. Two goddamned years she had pined away, hoping, waiting, wondering if he was all right. And was he all right! The handsome young Cassanova, cleverly feathering his nest and his bed. The bastard! Well, it was certainly over with now, wasn't it? There was nothing left to that feeble episode in her life. She had blamed herself, her frigidity, for the loss of this man she had thought she loved. And now, it was time that she awakened to the facts! He simply wasn't man enough to satisfy her, and that was the whole story. Kurt Mertz, ugly brute though he was, had brought her the first full meaning of sex. And a woman and a dog had repeated the act. It was obvious that Mark Andrews just wasn't man enough for her.
"Darling! I've been looking all over for you," Peter Cortland said, coming up beside her and taking her hand. "For awhile, I was almost afraid you'd disappeared."
The sight of his strong handsome presence caused the blood to pound in Lisa's veins. She smiled gorgeously and reached to take his big hand between her own small ones.
"I knew you'd find me," she said in soft tones. "So, I just waited."
Cortland's tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and his eyes blazed as they raked her. "Christ, you're lovely!" he gasped. "Look, are you hungry?"
"Not really."
"It's nine-thirty, you should eat. There's a buffet in the dining room. Let's grab a bite and go to my quarters. We can discuss the book ... and future plans."
Lisa thought about it, and suddenly, the idea excited her. "I'd like that," she said.
And she was sure she'd like it, or at least she thought she would. But somehow, between the bar and Peter Cortland's "private quarters", Lisa lost that conviction. It was only thirty minutes later, after she'd had something to eat, that she stood in the middle of Peter's suite, unable to give the briefest analysis of what had come over her. She had simply frozen. It really had nothing to do with Peter, but she couldn't seem to explain it to him. He'd kissed her a half-dozen times, but it was as if she were made of ice inside. She couldn't help it, nor could she answer in reason why.
"Why the sudden glacier treatment?" Peter growled at her. "You know I'm going to fuck you one way or the other, why not with cooperation and enjoyment?"
He was storming back and forth across the room. Lisa sat on the edge of the bed, fully clothed, watching him. To this point, he had not even forced a hand upon her. God, she wanted so much to be what he wanted her to be right at that moment, but she couldn't. Thoughts of Mark saturated her brain.
He walked to a TV screen in the den and turned it on. It lighted immediately and she saw the group in the nursery she'd just left. They seemed to be pretty much concentrated on the couches and watching something. Suddenly, she noticed one girl with her legs spread wide, her dress over her hips. The man with her had his hand inside her panties, cupping her wildly squirming loins. Lisa felt a slight involuntary tremor as the outline of his hand moved beneath the sheer material. He was stroking in a slow lewd rhythm, obviously sinking his fingers deep into her vagina. The girl, impervious to everyone around her, was grinding her pelvis, buttocks raised, in a tempo to the fingers fucking into her. Yet, both she and her companion were watching something.
"What is it? What are they watching?" Lisa asked hesitantly.
Peter went to the set and switched the channels, then came back to lie down on the bed beside her. He said nothing, only hoped that his closed-circuit surprise might loosen up his suddenly reluctant guest.
The picture on the screen caused Lisa to sit upright and gape. A young teenage girl had the erect penis of an older man in her mouth, and she was sucking it voraciously as though her very life depended on it. The girl was completely naked, and the man's massive shaft thrust out from his own naked loins like a fence post, the much smaller girl sitting on a chair sucking it with all of her heart. Then, the scene changed and the camera dwelled on a second girl on her knees, she, too. as young as the first, with her tongue extended and licking at the older man's hanging testicles between his buttocks. Once more, the camera switched to show the girl on her knees with her fingers masturbating herself, then up to the one in the chair, her legs wide-spread and vigorously thrusting what looked like an artificial penis in and out of her wide-splayed vagina.
"My God!" Lisa exclaimed as the man's legs began to jerk, and then she saw the thick white liquid oozing from the sitting girl's mouth, dribbling down to her chin as she swallowed, her eyes like two blazing hot coals as her hand rammed the long rubber cock up to the hilt in her wetly glistening pussy.
Peter rolled over toward his reluctant client and drew her to him, kissing her wetly on the mouth, his big hand moving down her rib cage to the seductive swell of her rounded buttocks under her skirt.
Lisa had no intention of fighting him in any respect, but she was sorry she couldn't respond in kind. She even had no feeling for Mark, at the moment for she owed him nothing. It was simply that she was the way she was; not that the movie hadn't excited her. It had, but not to the point that she knew Peter wanted her to be. It was almost as if icicles had formed in her belly, she simply returned his kiss to the best of her ability.
He pulled her to her feet and led her toward the far wall where the mirror hung and the extra-wide couch sat beneath it. He stood her before the mirror then walked away for a moment. Suddenly, the room went dark, and the mirror illuminated as if it were a window. Lisa saw the next room and she climbed onto the couch closer ... for the occupants were Mark and Sara Cortland, both completely naked!
"It's a double mirror," Peter said. "Now we watch their party."
It was a bedroom and Lisa couldn't believe her eyes. Peter had come up beside her and put Iris arm around her. His wife, Sara was lying naked and spread-eagled on the bed, her head gently rolling back and forth as Mark ran his tongue wetly up and down her exposed body. It had been his wife's idea to treat the divorced Andrews to this little experiment in voyeurism,, but Peter had immediately realized the exciting possibilities in the plan, and agreed.
"Oh God!" Lisa exclaimed.
The agent patted her trembling buttocks gently. "Watch," he said. "Just watch."
Lisa stared unbelievingly. Mark had obviously sucked Sara's voluptuous breasts into quaking hardness and more before they had moved to the mirror. Peter's naked wife was squirming beneath his flicking caresses like some lascivious slut, possessed. She had her hands wound in his hair, pressing his wet mouth to her demanding flesh.
Lisa lurched angrily as she watched. She was enraged. Had it not been her Mark, perhaps her whole reactions would be different, she thought, but this was Mark! Her husband ... oh God, not really, was he? Her mind twisted at the sight of the spectacle, while her feminine reaction was baffling to her. It was depraved and obscene, and yet, somewhere deep inside her, she wanted to watch.
Sara Cortland was beautiful, she thought subconsciously, staring at the lovely woman spread-eagled on the bed before her. She was obviously engulfed in rapture; her mouth hung open and her eyes gaped smokily up at nothing. Mark was right above her, his face but inches from her nakedly writhing pussy. Lisa watched his thumbs open the outer flanges of her wetly trembling vaginal lips, and it was as if he had touched her own! Sara sucked in her taut belly and gasped as he teased her, pulling outward slowly and parting the silken pussy hair to expose her blushing pink cuntal slit before him. Lisa gasped again as the dainty bud of Sara's erect little clitoris burst into throbbing view, just above the gaping vaginal orifice.
"Oh, no!" Lisa exclaimed as Mark's head dropped, his long wet tongue darting out to lick tantalizingly at the quivering little bud of raw nerves, the plexus at the top of Sara's lewdly open cunt.
"My God!" she said again, looking over at Peter beside her, hardly conscious of the fact that he was running his hand up and down her own inner thighs as she kneeled close to the mirror. "Don't you mind?"
He chuckled softly. "Not as long as I have you, baby."
"But ... but that's your wife!"
"And she's happy, isn't she?"
Lisa stared, watching Sara's firmly ripened body jerk as Mark's slavering tongue played with her ultra-sensitive clitoris. Lisa saw her long lithe legs clamp together tightly about his head, and her shapely hips began an easy rising-falling motion in cadence to his tongue fucking in and out of her wetly throbbing cunt. They couldn't hear her, but the young divorcee knew the naked woman was purring like a kitten, while at the same time her lower body was writhing insanely. Mark had begun to suck with obvious fervor.
Lisa was trying desperately to evaluate. She was racking her mind as she stared in disbelief at Sara Cortland squirming in a wild dance of eagerness at the lustfully depraved sucking of her vagina. And her Mark was doing it, while Sara's husband knelt beside her, his hand up under her dress caressing her buttocks over the smooth white nylon of her panties. She gasped and stared, watching Sara's naked body writhe in lewd surrender beneath the earth-shattering tongue-fucking and suddenly the young divorcee found that her own body was moving in unison with the other woman. She turned abruptly to Peter and found that he was close, that he was behind her, and she felt the length of his body pressed tight against her back. Then, she felt his arms extended around her, his hands on her ripely hanging breasts, caressing them with a circular motion that felt good. Automatically, she pressed her trembling young buttocks back against him.
She felt the stiffness of his semi-hard cock as she had felt it against her belly when they had stood in the garage earlier, but now it was pressing through her panties into the softly yielding crevice of her presented buttocks. Oooooh ... it did feel good!
The young writer sensed her agent's hand lowering the zipper at the back of her dress, and then a hand moving in to push her brassiere away from her ripely swollen breasts. He moved the garment upward letting her twin globes of warm flesh fall loose, his hands greedily cupping the ripe mounds as they fell free, encompassing the hardened sensitive nipples between his eager fingers, pressing tightly and rolling them back and forth until she whimpered aloud in pleasure at his manipulations and at the way he was grinding his heavy male hardness between the split of her eagerly rotating ass-cheeks.
Lisa stared as if mesmerized, her panty-clad buttocks pressed snugly back against Peter, watching Mark's nibbling lips as they moved up Sara's desperately writhing body. He worked slowly, almost methodically, pausing at strategic spots for an extra quick flick of his tongue, and raising obvious groans of pleasure from deep in her throat. Mark had risen to his knees and, for the first time, Lisa saw his thickly rigid cock jutting out from his naked loins. A blended chill of excitement, rage, and revulsion passed through her at the familiar sight of it and the memories it brought instantly to her. But she hadn't remembered it as being so enormously thick, and suddenly she shuddered as he poised it at the wet little mouth of Sara's vagina. He was going to ram it right into her! But then, he stopped Sara had said something to him and he began to slither up her sensuously naked body until he was completely astraddle her abundant breasts, his tensed buttocks flattening the soft fleshy mounds against her chest, the lust-swollen head of his steel-hard cock scant inches from her moistly waiting mouth.
Lisa gasped as Mark reached behind him, and slid his hand down between Sara's wide-open thighs; his outstretched middle finger sank deep into her moistly throbbing cunt, and a second later he began to finger-fuck her. Grinning in lewd triumph, he rotated his finger, causing Sara to lurch and gasp, as did Lisa at the sight and thought of that taunting finger moving in and out of the woman's sensitive vaginal walls. She appeared to be trying to squirm away now from the erotic torment, but Mark had placed his knees in such a manner as to hold her arms and shoulders secured to the bed. He grinned down at her with a lewdly sadistic expression, as his free hand grasped his blood-engorged cock and began to taunt her lips with its bulbous head.
Lisa could not believe the lascivious sight she was witnessing, but above all she could not conceive that the naked male performing so obscenely before her was her own Mark, the boy-man she had loved for so long. It just wasn't possible! My God! She gasped again as she saw Sara's little pink tongue flick out to lick at the tiny hole at the tip of his proffered cock. She gaped in horror as a thin string of the liquid excitement that oozed from his penis stretched across to her open mouth, and at the way the shamelessly aroused woman was straining, the cords in her neck standing out like velvet-covered cables as she tried to capture the throbbing shaft of flesh and suck it up between her moistly warm lips. Desperately she sought it, her tongue laving at its underside while Mark laughed above her, holding it just out of her reach, until Lisa found her own neck stretching in sympathy with the struggling passion-filled woman on the other bed.
Then Lisa thought she detected something more than just a sadistic light in Mark's eye; maybe just a touch of hate now as he teased the naked woman who was completely at his mercy beneath him with his angry cock, and she felt the muscles of her own body grow more tense at the thought, even as Peter's big hands continued to maddeningly fondle her hardening breasts. Suddenly, she gave a little start as one of his hands moved downward across her abdomen and slowly slipped beneath the tight elastic waistband of her white nylon panties. His fingers moved tormentingly in the sparse golden hair of her vaginal mound, and then slid downward into the moistly unresisting pussy slit up between her spread thighs, gently moving through its warm throbbing wetness to the tiny bud of her clitoris and grazing it into quivering life.
Lisa moaned aloud as Peter's outstretched finger expertly created little jolts of pleasure that surged through her excitedly quivering vagina. A moment later, his finger stopped teasing her clitoris and slipped gently inside her tight little cuntal opening, sliding deep up into her wetly clasping pussy and causing wilder erotic sensations to spiral through her. The young divorcee squirmed uncontrollably beneath his caresses and felt the hugeness of his hotly throbbing penis pressed deep into the now perspiring crevice of her buttocks from behind. His massive rod of flesh jerked and throbbed as it telegraphed to her the mounting lust of the big man who was draped over her from behind, his great hands seeming to set her whole wantonly trembling body aflame with a lewd desire. She ground her fleshy young buttocks back against his penis and the finger he was thrusting into her moistly throbbing cunt, and she rejoiced in a feeling of masochistic servility at her helplessness he was obviously going to fuck her here while she watched her husband fucking Sara in the next room. She shuddered. It was so wanton ... so exciting!
Paul Cortland began an almost imperceptive rocking movement, and Lisa felt her body respond of its own volition, moving in rhythm while they both watched the lewd performance on the other side of the mirror, witnessing the exact moment when Mark raised Sara's head by the hair and thrust his long thick cock forward, the lust-inflated head smashing between her wetly parted lips to plunge deep into the warm wet cavern of her wide-stretched mouth.
Lisa's breath caught in her throat. My God! He would choke her the way he was ramming his huge penis down her throat! But to her amazement, Sara was eagerly thrusting her face forward to meet his every plunge, her lips ovaled tightly, sucking at his thick organ with a hunger that had to be seen to be believed.
And then, as Lisa stared at Mark who was on his knees now with one hand holding Sara's head aloft and the other sunk deep in her widespread cunt, she felt Peter lift her dress to her hips and draw her sheer white nylon panties down over her quivering ass-cheeks, letting them slip to her knees. A cool rush of air brushed up between her legs, and she felt her face flushing uncontrollably.
God, she thought, her whole backside was exposed to him, presented in lewd invitation for whatever little humiliating game he might decide to play with it. Good Lord, what did he think of her? That she was some kind of slut probably similar to his own wife lying there pervertedly sucking Mark's hardened penis like some wanton whore? If he did, he was in for a surprise, she thought, as she gaped in disbelief at Sara's elasticized lips sucking hungrily at Mark's fleshy rod as it sawed in and out her vacuuming mouth. Peter's wife's face-was contorted, her mouth fluted, her eyes glazed like some rutting animal, and the sight was involuntarily increasing Lisa's own excitement, as now she could feel the wetness saturating her spread thighs and dampening Peter's hand with its warm moisture.
Suddenly, Lisa heard the metallic whisper of her host's zipper behind her and she gave a start, but before she could speak she felt him moving about, and turning her head saw that his face was lowered to the level of her lewdly presented buttocks. She felt him pressing his powerful hands against the small of her back.
"Bend over," he hissed at her, and although she hesitated, his hands forced her to comply until her naked ass-cheeks wavered in the air behind her and before his face. Abruptly, she felt his wetly heated tongue licking downward through the entire length of her sweat-dampened anal crevice, stopping only briefly to flick its tip into the tiny puckered ring of her defenseless anus.
"Oh God!" Lisa moaned while his long wet tongue tantalized her helplessly upraised loins. She gasped again at the sudden unexpected entry of it into her moistly throbbing pussy, and buried her face in the couch with a surprised groan of intense pleasure. She had jerked forward with the first hot teasing contact in an involuntary spasm of delight, but quickly screwed her buttocks back hard against his face. She felt her deep vaginal muscles contract, opening and closing tightly around the smooth length of his tongue sunk so deeply up inside her. Her breath exploded down into the couch in small quick gasps of delight as he began a sudden curling and flicking, pressing his lips closer, and then once again working at her whole open crevice, sucking and licking at it like a starving animal while her flexed buttocks throbbed and swayed around his face almost out of control.
Dear God, she had never known anything like this before! Its utter delicious wickedness was consuming her, causing a lewd tingling joy to permeate her whole being. She never wanted it to stop ... but it did, and she sensed his tongue slithering back up through the cleft separating her buttocks, up to the base of her spine, and then he moved in close behind her on his knees, until she felt the lust-inflated head of his aroused maleness press into the softly yielding split of her helpless buttocks.
A shudder rippled through her at the touch of its massiveness. Oh no, she thought, he's way too big for me! He ll tear me open!
Then, he backed away and impatiently reached down to pull the hindering panties away from her knees. Neither of them spoke and the task required some maneuvering but finally it was accomplished. Lisa started to drop to the couch and turn over onto her back, but as she did she caught sight of Sara Cortland's lipstick-rimmed lips clasped greedily around Mark's growing white cock sawing into her mouth, and decided she wanted to watch it to the very end. Sara had gotten her hands free now and was clutching Mark's thrusting buttocks, one in each hand, and was pulling his huge penis furiously into her lewdly ovaled mouth while he grinned salaciously above her, watching her lust-contorted face as she sucked at his pistoning instrument.
"Oh God," Lisa breathed suddenly. "Let's take off all our clothes..."
"Good," Peter agreed, jumping to his feet and tearing at his things in a frenzy.
Lisa stood and slipped her dress down over her hips, at the same time getting her first real look at Peter Cortland's long thick cock extending out unbelievably from his muscular loins.
"Oh, my God, Peter ... I can never take all that," she gasped, her beautiful hazel eyes locked on it in obvious fear. She raised her head as he came toward her smiling, his arms held out for her to go into, and in spite of her fear, she did.
"Don't worry, baby," he whispered, holding her naked voluptuousness tight to him, his massive cock pressed snugly against the soft flesh of her belly. "I won't hurt you, and believe me, you can take it. Now, do you want to see the end of their party? He must be just about ready to cum in my sweet wife's mouth."
"Yes! Yes!" Lisa exclaimed, remembering and leaning back onto the couch, bending over this time so that her buttocks were quickly presented to her heavily breathing host, and she could still see into the mirror. "Please ... please be gentle, darling."
Again, Peter got on his knees behind her, moving forward, slipping his knees as far up between her wide-stretched thighs as he could possibly go, guiding his eagerly pulsating penis forward. with thumb and forefinger, gently parting the soft blonde pussy hair with his plum-colored cock-head. He felt the warm soft folds of her tight little cunt close wetly over the rounded tip of his cock and the wildly erotic sensation made him groan in obscene delight.
Lisa stared through the glass, endeavoring to forget her own mounting dread by losing herself in Sara and Mark's utterly obscene lovemaking.
Now she could see white viscous fluid running from the corners of Sara's mouth and dribbling in tiny rivulets down her hollowing cheeks as she lay on her back, her head partially raised and Mark's thickly jerking cock stuffing her mouth in savage plunges; suddenly, Lisa realized that Sara was reveling in the brutal humiliation her Mark was subjecting her to, a masochistic gleam dancing strangely in her lust-glazed eyes.
Lisa bit down into her lower lip as she felt Peter's warmly throbbing cock begin to press and prod against the small elastic opening of her own trembling vagina. She gasped aloud, steeling herself as the thick cock-head slipped through the expanding ring of cuntal flesh; she heard him groan as they both felt the tight walls of her heatedly clasping pussy slip over the fleshy shaft, wetly enclosing its rock-hard length as he continued to slide right up into her belly.
"Ah ... ah ... oh ... darling..." she breathed, not sure of her own emotions. Truly she had felt the massive entry with a dozen twinges of pain, but not once had she fought him or cried out, and just as truly did her cunt-walls seem afire with his unaccustomed size embedded in her belly. It felt as though he had burrowed into her all the way to her breasts, and now she moaned uncontrollably for the first time.
"All right?" he questioned softly. "Yes ... all right," Lisa managed to groan out between her tightly clenched teeth.
Then, gasping his obvious delight at her tight little cunt's reception of him, Peter Cortland began to rock rhythmically and gently in and out of her warmly moist channel. For awhile, Lisa continued to chew at her lower lip, until gradually the pain eased as her tortured cunt walls expanded, and she, too, sensed a masochistic sensation of pleasure once more. Being fucked this way, helplessly impaled on his long thick cock while she watched Mark's brutal subjugation of Sara Cortland, who was sucking her ex-husband's lengthy thick penis like some lowly slave, had caused exciting sensations of wicked pleasure to ripple through Lisa's love-starved body. The lewd sight taking place before her, and the thought of Peter Cortland's great cock ravishing her own eagerly quivering cunt caused the kneeling divorcee to undulate her naked buttocks in rhythmic circles back at the heavy shaft of flesh fucking into her from behind.
"Oh . . .oh Peter ... it's good ... good ... good! Don't stop, darling. Don't stop!" she whispered back at him.
Peter Cortland grinned lewdly down upon the smooth whiteness of her delicious body. He let his eyes feast for the slightest moment there, on the way her beautifully rounded ass-cheeks curved sharply away into the narrow wasp-like waist that looked as though it would break from the least of pressure. On either side of his kneeling legs, he could see her firm white thighs tapering down to well-formed knees, and then blossoming out again to the fullness of her calves. Momentarily, he envisioned her lying on her back with the delicious strength of those calves locked tightly behind his ass, pulling him into her in a wild burst of passion, but that would come later. Much would come later. Oh, don't worry, baby, he thought to himself. I'm not about to stop: Not for a damn long time to come. In fact, my little blonde bitch, I've just begun to fuck.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Mark Andrews was about ready to come apart inside and blow his sperm right into Sara Cortland's waiting gullet, which was exactly what she was waiting for as she sucked him like some kind of machine, her soft warm lips brushing against the hair of his thrusting groin, his saliva-coated cock plunging to the very depths of her throat with every thrust....
Oh God, Lisa, where are you? God, when I saw your lovely, delicate pureness outside there I realized what I had given up so blindly. Please, for God's sake, darling, come back to me!
"Oh ... Oh..." Mark blurted aloud, his mind suddenly taken away from his ex-wife. He gaped down at Sara's rounded lips clenching hungrily around his throbbing penis as his loins grew hot and he felt the sweat oozing between his legs. The pressure building in his cum-filled balls slapping against her upturned chin as she worked in a near hypnotic state was excruciating, unbearable, and his pistoning cock seemed to inflate and lengthen.
At that moment, it happened! There was a spasmodic jerk in his tensing loins, and nothing in the world could have stopped the seething white flow as he jerked his erupting cock from her mouth, holding the heavy shaft back so that its wildly jerking head was inches from her wide open mouth. And then, it began squirting its powerful streams of white hot sperm in lengthy jets into her gaping mouth, filling it to the brim in the manner she liked, and then he thrust into her greedy little mouth again, and he watched her swallow it away time and again until his emptied loins pumped and nothing came. She'd sucked him completely dry.
Mark pulled his deflated penis from her still sucking mouth and climbed off her. He rolled to the side of the bed and sat there. Momentarily, he sat with head bowed, then reached for a cigarette on the night stand. There was a pause, and then Sara leaned over to him.
"What's the matter, lover? Your ex-wife getting to you?"
"Is that so damned strange," Mark shot back, irritated by her acute perception.
"No, no," the lovely woman smiled, "not at all. But a lot of water has passed under the bridge since then. In fact, I think you'd be surprised by how your little wife's changed."
"Oh, I doubt that," Mark said.
"Do you? Come here then." Sara led the way over to a mirror on the wall of the bedroom, and extinguished the lights in the room.
Mark followed her, not really paying attention, but thinking of his beautiful ex-wife, and the way she had looked tonight at the party.
He knew now that he loved her with every fiber of his being, and given half a chance he was going to tell her. Momentarily, he had seen reciprocal love in her lovely eyes tonight, before whatever the hell it was that had happened; but he was certain that she loved him as much as he loved her, and he would almost bet she also was still a near virgin.
Mark came up beside Sara, only peripherally aware that as she turned a dial beside the wall mirror their reflections gradually disappeared and were replaced by a scene, almost like a television image, which looked like two people, on a couch! Mark froze, a heavy tremor of revulsion surging through him as he stared in disbelief.
Good God almighty!! Beyond the mirror, lying on the couch only a few feet away lay Lisa, naked, with Peter Cortland between her widespread thighs, her beautiful face twisted in ecstasy as the big man savagely fucked his long thick cock into her gyrating pussy!
He couldn't believe it! It was impossible! My God, not Lisa, of all people! Why ... why, she was a human icicle, and who should know better than he? But ... but, there she lay, nevertheless, her voluptuous body erotically writhing beneath Peter Cortland!
Sara adjusted the panel controls beside the mirror, turning up the volume of sound, immediately picking up Lisa's lascivious groans as she mewled up into the moistness of Peter's mouth, and Mark visualized her thrusting her tongue with complete abandon deep into his throat. Low hums of passionately servile surrender were coming in torrents from deep in her chest, her face contorted with lewd desire, as her mouth worked, her neck strained, and her nostrils flared, a light film of perspiration covering her forehead under her disheveled, soft blonde hair.
"Oooooh yes, yes ... fuck it hard, darling, fuck it hard!" she was begging, gasping in abandoned welcome to the long punishing cock sinking deep up into her tightly clasping cunt.
Mark gaped as Peter's big hands slipped under the nakedly rounded moons of his ex-wife's shimmering buttocks, raising them and at the same time straining his huge cock forward into her with all the strength of his hips and thighs. She was moaning incoherently as she almost viciously wound her tapered legs up and around his hips, forcing him even deeper into her. Mark could see the soft pink folds of vaginal flesh clinging to the wetly glistening cock as it withdrew from her, and he found himself wagering that she could feel every inch on that massive penis fucking into the moistly heated cunt he so well remembered and loved so much.
Good God! He couldn't stand it! He was going in there and ... and...
"It might interest you to know lover, that your ex and my husband were watching us just a few minutes ago," Sara said calmly, sensing his anger.
Mark looked up at her. "What the hell did you say?"
Sara laughed lightly. "That's the routine at my parties, a bit of voyeurism for stimulation. Best aphrodisiac I know of."
"Oh God," Mark groaned. The thought that his Lisa had watched this woman sucking his cock and the way he had licked her cunt sickened him ... My God, there was nothing he could do! He'd lost her for certain this time, for certain and forever. Momentarily, he thought he was going to shed tears, but a sudden feminine moan of erotic pleasure filled the room, and his attention was drawn back to the mirror.
Peter was working feverishly over his ex-wife, and Lisa was tossing her head from side to side as she moaned ceaselessly from her open mouth. Their host had lengthened his strokes, bringing his thick pistoning penis nearly all the way out of her desperately clasping vagina, then plunging forward into her uplifted buttocks, his heavy balls slapping against her tight little anus. Mark stared and saw the big man's hand trail down over the taut smooth skin of her buttocks and his outstretched middle finger find the small anal hole cradled so defenselessly there. He even felt his own cock jerk as Peter's finger pushed into the puckered opening with a sudden movement, and he saw the rubbery flesh yield before his attack.
"Ooohhh," Lisa gasped, the mixed sound of pain-pleasure tumbling from her lips.
Mark held his breath, watching the finger sink deeper into the hairless little ring of flesh.
"Ohhhhh God!" Lisa groaned again as it dug further into her defenseless rectal passage; but Peter didn't stop, and Mark's rapidly growing cock gave another lurch when he saw the way the big man was working the thick digit around inside, stretching her rubbery ring wider and wider as he ground into her. And then, Mark's mouth fell open in stunned disbelief when he saw him insert a second finger.
God! He wanted to smash in there and tear the filthy bastard off her, but he knew there was nothing he could do. Deep guttural moans of pleasure came from Lisa's chest now as she skewered her wantonly writhing ass-cheeks back onto Peter's fingers probing around in the depths of her back passage. He had her hopelessly impaled between his eagerly throbbing cock in her splayed vagina and his fingers shoved tightly and whimpering in lewd abandon under the double ravishment of her loins.
Mark stared as Cortland used his shoulders behind Lisa's knees to push them back hard until they touched the couch on each side of her face, making the naked plane of her beautiful loins wide open to the jack-hammer thrusts of his cruelly skewering cock as he drove without mercy into her hot little cunt.
"OH oh, oh, oh, oh," Lisa began to cough, her face twisted in an unrecognizable grimace of pure lust.
Peter grunted loudly and quickened his stroke, grinding hard and deep so that his rigid shaft of pulsating flesh bored far up into the secret recesses of her womb. Mark saw his wife's full sensuous breasts heave and quiver up against the pressure of the heavy chest ... and suddenly Lisa began to convulse and shiver beneath him.
"Oh God ... Oh my God! I'm cumming! Yes ... yes ... I'm cumming! Ooohhhhhhhh!" she half-screamed.
Mark couldn't believe it! She was actually cumming! He gaped in awe at the gush of liquid passion flooding from her spasming cunt locked around Cortland's wildly thrusting cock. An immediate surge of hatred raged through the young investment counselor, and he felt scalding tears streaming down his cheeks as he stared. She was cumming ... and she'd never come with him!!
"How do I get in there?" he hissed at Sara Cortland.
"Now lover, I don't think..."
"I said how do I get in there!" Sara flinched from the obvious intensity of his rage..
"It's the other door in this hallway," the frightened woman answered. "But what are you...? "
Mark didn't stop to listen to her, but barged out of the room, stalked down the hallway unconscious of his nakedness, and threw open the door of the bedroom he'd just been looking into. His face twisted into an unreasoning grimace of revenge as he saw that Peter Cortland had finished, and was starting to get up.
"Now, look here, Andrews..." Peter began.
"Shut up, and get the hell out of here," Mark snarled viciously. "I've got a few words to say to my ex-frigid ex-wife."
"Now wait a minute, boy..."
"Are you going to get out of here, or am I going to throw you out!" Mark's voice was now threatening, and he watched with satisfaction as the older man considered resisting, thought better of it, and then got up from the couch.
"She's not your wife anymore, Andrews. You lay one finger on her and..."
"Get the fuck out!"
Mark grabbed Peter Cortland by the arm, and almost shoved the older man towards the door. Peter might have made a very even fight of it, but chose not to: hell, what was to follow was the Andrews' business, not his.
Once he'd gotten his ex-wife's lover out of the room, Mark paused momentarily by the door, and then slowly turned to face the cowering Lisa, his face a brutal mask of undisguised rage.
"M-Mark, please ... please don't say things we'll both be sorry for..."
He laughed bitterly, then began to move toward her. "I doubt that I'll be sorry for anything I say or do to you, Lisa, my lovely little ex-wife," he hissed at her.
The terrified girl backed across the couch to the wall as he moved in on her, his teeth clenched, his lips drawn back in obvious hate while his eyes blazed in clear ugly lust, fastened on her rising and falling breasts.
"Tits," he sneered vilely. "And the nicest tits I knew of ... until Cortland put his filthy hands on them."
"L-Listen to me, Mark..."
"Shut up!" he shouted at her, raising his hand as if to strike her. "I listened to you too long. What's worse, I believed you! The frigid little girl with all the puritanistic crap!" Suddenly, he caught her by the wrist and cruelly jerked her toward him, her voluptuous breasts jouncing from his force. "Well, when I get through with you tonight, baby, you'll think Peter Cortland was a schoolboy!"
"Mark ... please, darling..."
"And don't call me darling ... you ... you goddamned little whore!"
"Listen to me, Mark..." she began, almost hysterically, "I love you ... always have ... never stopped ... My God ... don't ... don't do this thing to me again ... to us..."
"You lousy bitch!" he spat. "You'd say anything right now, wouldn't you! Well go ahead say any goddamned thing you want, but when I get through fucking you, you'll wish to God you never knew me."
"Mark, please...? "
"Shut up!" he snarled. "I'm going to sink my cock in that cunt of yours like half of New York has already done."
Lisa stared with an uncomprehending fear at her ex-husband's thick menacing penis jutting out with a rigid fierceness from his loins. She swallowed in abject horror as she saw the raging lust in his face, and the hate-swollen head of his reddened cock jerk violently in full erection, and she cringed before and beneath it.
"Oh, my God, Mark ... please ... please ... not this way..."
"I'm going to fuck you any way I like, bitch," he spat down at her whining head buried in the pillow. "Maybe with your ass waving high in the air the way Cortland-likes it. But first, I'm going to lick that beautiful little ass-hole of yours. I want to know if it tastes as sweet as it looks."
Oh God in heaven, the terrified young woman couldn't believe what was taking place! She didn't look up, but felt him climb onto the couch, and her body lurched forward automatically as something warm and wet immediately contracted the area back between her widespread buttocks. Again, it came and she couldn't hold back the moan that escaped her as it stopped to taunt her tiny puckered anus! Mark's tongue! It whipped her breath away and momentarily she froze, gradually relaxing as she heard the wetly sluicing sound of his tongue laving the smooth white cleft of her backside. Oh ... oh God ... it was ... was good ... good! It continued, and then, she felt the tight lips of her fevered cunt being pressed open harshly with his thumbs, and the cool air seeping in ... Oh Mark! Mark!
"Darling!" she exclaimed, and he slapped her stingingly across the ass-cheeks. He raised his head and moved in close to her defenselessly up-thrust buttocks, his long hard cock dancing wildly as he pressed its lust-swollen head against her tightly puckered anal ring.
"Now, you be a good girl and I'll wet this so it'll slip in nice and easy, understand?"
Lisa didn't answer.
"I'm going to fuck you in the ass. Understand?" he hissed down at her. "I just wanted you to know so you could cringe a little. Maybe, you haven't been screwed too much there yet, and it'll be still somewhat virginal..."
"It's virginal!" she blurted up from the pillow at him, "I'm not what you think I am, and I want you to do it to me there! Hurt me. Punish me. I deserve it!"
A thrill of excitement passed through Mark's revenge-crazed body. He looked down and saw his ex-wife's waggling buttocks, the tight little ring of hairless flesh exposed helplessly before his massive cock. God ... was he wrong? Then, he remembered the sight of her beneath Peter Cortland and straightened bitterly. To hell with you, bitch!
He sank his finger into her semen-moistened cunt and smeared the lubricant over the tightly crinkled little aperture. He did it several times, then dipped the head of his eagerly pulsing cock between her sperm-coated cuntal lips before raising it up against her fearfully cringing anus.
Lisa heard him laugh salaciously, and in both dread and anticipation, she snapped: "Go ahead! Fuck it, damn you! I'm ready ... fuck it!"
And so he did!
Without benefit of mercy, he pushed forward, and the kneeling young blonde felt the build up of pressure and then the sudden agony as his massive cock-head popped through the tight anal ring. Her breath caught in her throat as she was wracked by a spasm of pain so unbearable that she twisted and screamed as she struggled to escape the torturous instrument reaming into her back passage.
"Oh ... oh, my God!" she had sorely misjudged his size and the capacity of her rectum. "You're splitting me, Mark! Stop! Stop!" she wailed back at him, her tightly flexed buttocks thrashing like some wild animal in the throes of a violent death struggle, and then she heard him laugh fiendishly and felt his talon-like fingers digging into the tender flesh of her hips. He held her vise-like, and her every jerk only helped to drive his rigid rod of flesh deeper and deeper inside her.
"Shove back, damn you!" he snarled at her, slapping her nakedly cringing ass-cheeks once more. "Shove back, you bitch!"
Lisa couldn't hold back the tears of pain and humiliation, yet her fear of disobeying him in his present half-crazed state forced her to respond. She hunched back suddenly as he pressed forward, and she felt his hotly throbbing penis surge without mercy up into her, pushing the tight resistant flesh before it until finally, with one last buttock-flattening lunge he had hammered it all the way up inside her warmly constricting rectal depths.
"Oohhh, my God," the subserviently kneeling young wife moaned in her torment, biting at her lower lip until she tasted her own blood. Lisa groaned again as she felt his pelvis smack solidly into the softness of her upturned buttocks and his heavy balls swing hard against the spread lips of her wetly trembling vagina below. Dear God, she was impaled to the hilt, unable to move and afraid to breathe with the horrible pressure that felt as if her thighs were splitting apart.
Mark's body stilled momentarily, as if he had found a tiny fleck of mercy in his revenge-crazed mind, and while the walls of her widely stretched rectum slowly adjusted, the brutal pain began to subside. She still felt ripped and stretched there from the unnatural invasion, while at the same time and for some perverted reason, she had even begun to experience a sensation of atonement.
She deserved everything he was doing to her, and would do to her! It had been her fault they divorced, not his! She had nearly ruined their lives, and played the slut to obtain her portion of success in the bargain! She was a whore! And now she would willingly crawl before him, let him use her like a lowly slave if he wanted, endure whatever pain, degradation and humiliation he would inflict upon her to prove her love to him!
"How do you like that, you filthy bitch?" he snarled down at her, grinding his pelvis hard between her flattened buttocks and seemingly attempting to shove his rigid penis right up through her belly and out her throat. Then, he flexed his lust-swollen shaft of thick flesh, and she gasped aloud in pain.
Oh God, give me the strength to endure it! I must keep my wits...
"Cortland ever get it in this deep, slut?" Mark grunted as he began to saw rhythmically in and out of her inflamed pink passage.
I've got to reach him ... make him understand. . .for when he's through with me tonight I'll never see him again ... This will truly be the end for us ... it's now or never...
Mark groaned as suddenly he felt his ex-wife's anal muscles tighten around his long thick length buried far up inside her rectum. His steel-hard cock throbbed harder, and he could barely believe it when the soft moons of her smooth naked buttocks began to churn back against him in a slow methodical undulation. He moaned again as he felt her anal channel convulse and tighten around him warmly while he moved in and out of her, watching her puckered little anus clinging to his angry shaft as he drew out and then disappeared back inside her rectum with his inward thrust.
Lisa, kneeling before and beneath him, knew that she must do something to reach him, to make him understand how much she loved him. In her obscene position she began to rotate her buttocks in lewd little circles, waving her voluptuous ass-cheeks back at him lasciviously, until it dawned upon her that undoubtedly there was some whore in her, for she had begun to experience a tingle of masochistic excitement. Oh God, she wanted to enjoy it: had to enjoy it to make him feel her love. There was still pain, but it was strangely pleasurable and she found herself bucking and squirming back to meet the lewd impalement while he jerked forward into her.
"Damn! You are a bitch!" he hissed down at her bitterly, grunting each time he surged forward; she, too, had begun to moan almost incessantly and uncontrollably beneath him, twisting and waving the whiteness of her ass-cheeks back at him in a lustful invitation to fuck harder and deeper.
"No . . .no!" she managed to cough at him. "No one has ... has ever done ... done this to me ... before. It's ... it's you, Mark ... darling ... I-I love you ... don't you see?"
She turned her face to the side on the bed, and he could see her teeth bared in ecstatic delight, her tongue flicking out wetly in time to the increasing power of his smooth strokes plunging deep into her. Her long blonde hair flowed out over the bed, flailing wildly as with each violent thrust she would grunt and toss her head to the other side.
Could it be true, the crazed husband thought, his brain reeling in its revenge-intent state? Did she really love him? Had he misjudged her?
"Ooooooh, oooooh," Lisa moaned and grunted beneath him while he pressed forward as far as he could, pulling the soft trembling cheeks of her ass wide apart, allowing him to fuck deeper up into her rectum. His bludgeoning cock was buried to his very testicles up inside her hotly clasping rectal flesh, and the erotic stimulation made him grasp.
"Ooooooh, darling ... let go of my hands," she pleaded. "Please ... I want to feel your beautiful balls while you fuck me there...? "
"Huh? Wh-what?"
"Please, darling?"
He pulled his massively pulsating cock out of her suddenly, his mind a whirlpool of muddled thoughts. Good God, what am I doing to her? He let go the vise-like hold he'd had on her wrists.
"Wh-what have I done to you, darling?" he gulped.
Lisa threw her arms around his neck and passionately kissed him. She had rolled onto her back and drawn him down to her, her full white breasts crushed against his chest. He felt her tiny tongue push into his mouth, and he wanted to weep with spontaneous joy.
"Ooooooh ... oh, Mark, my darling, I love you ... love you ... love you!" she breathed sweetly into his face.
"And I love you!" he gasped. "Always have ... never stopped. Oh God, the things I've done to you tonight..."
Tears streamed down his handsome cheeks as she held his head in against her lushly ripened breasts in delicious ecstasy. Thank God, she had reached him!
"C-Can you ever forgive me, Lisa?"
She smiled to herself, then whispered". "Yes, darling, on one condition..."
"What?" He pulled his head free and looked down into her beautiful face. "Anything ... anything..."
"Then finish the job you started before I go mad. I was almost ready to cum," she said, quickly rising up to her knees and grinding her naked ass-cheeks back at him in lewd invitation.
"Christ!" her ex-husband blurted, scrambling to his own knees behind her as she reached between her legs and gently grasped his fully erect penis, drawing its pulsating head between the soft moist fingers of her wetly flowing cunt once more to lubricate it, then placing its rubber tip again against her eagerly puckering anus.
"Easy, darling," she said softly. "It's a little sore now."
"We don't have to do it this way," Mark blurted contritely. "I I was trying to hurt you before..."
"No, darling. I want you to fuck me there," Lisa said excitedly. "To be the first one who ever has. I want it to hurt me. I deserve to be hurt by you, my darling!" she insisted, a masochistic gleam dancing in her eyes. She lowered her hand to cradle his heavily hanging balls back between her legs, scraping her nails over them in a teasing motion that caused him to grunt loudly as he pressed the spongy, blood-inflated head of his now aching cock into her tight little anus once more, unable to control the fury of his lunge as he sent it soaring right up her still expanded opening.
"Ooooh oooh," Lisa groaned as his pelvis smacked loudly against her ass-cheeks again. "Oh my God, darling, it hurts beautifully," she moaned. "Oh Mark, fuck it! Rape it! Make me know that you love me! Fuck me hard, darling! Hard! Hard!"
Mark gasped and listened to her words in lewd rapture as she jerked back against his lustful sodomizing of her innocent rectum, as though she were reveling in its depraved possession of her virginal anus. The pain had obviously gone and her head was turning from side to side once more, her beautiful long blonde hair thrashing wildly. Her beautiful face reflected her sheer joy, and Mark watched his throbbing white shaft of rock-hard flesh disappearing all the way into her wildly gyrating buttocks with each hard thrust.
"Oh, oh, oh, oh," Lisa chanted as she waved her unblemished ass-cheeks salaciously back against his eager plunges. She wanted him to cum, to shoot his hot load of sperm deep up into her belly, to split her open and drown her in its loveliness. The beautiful ecstasy of it! He was raping her virginal ass-hole, just as he had raped her cunt in the very beginning! Only this time, it would be different! He had come back to her, and she would hold him! Later, this night, she would suck him dry! He was her own Mark, home forever! "Oh ... oh yes, darling, fuck it like that!" she crooned deliriously back at him.
She could feel a great wetness in her anal crevice now, and there was no pain, only the feeling of being filled to capacity by the one man she loved. Her shoulders lowered to the bed so that her voluptuous ass-cheeks were now sticking high up in the air and her darling's huge beautiful cock could fuck her at will. Her eyes glazed in her blissful rapture, and she ground happily back against it, feeling it throb into unbelievable hugeness that could only mean the moment was at hand.
He was going to cum in her back there! Again, she reached back to graze and caress his pulsating balls as she felt the first delicious hot waves of his male liquid squirting far up into the depths of her rectum. He grunted and groaned as he continued to fuck in and out of her convulsing rectal channel, while Lisa felt his hot jets of sperm splashing around inside her belly. The magnificent sensation brought her own release, and she screamed, "I'm cumming ... oh ... oh, darling, I'm cumming!" The hot flow gushed from her open young cunt, saturating his emptying balls pressed tightly into it, and flowed in a silver river down her trembling thighs.
Moments later, he crawled up beside her and they collapsed in each other's arms. Then, Lisa wept in happiness. Neither of them trusted themselves to speak for a long, long time. Words really weren't necessary anyway. Everything was going to be all right now ... and they both knew it with all their young, vibrant hearts.
