As Grace Benton applied eye makeup, she studied her face; her huge brown eyes, the delicate high arched nostrils, the lips curving above like gull's wings on the downbeat, and full below. In college she had earned a beauty title, and yet, no boy had ever asked her out a second time. She had decided that they all wanted the same thing-to seduce her, the campus beauty queen and then strut around bragging about it. But she had never given in. And then Richard had appeared, a bright boy with a brilliant future.
He had never made a pass at her, was sensible and considerate, and had showered her with gifts and fevered declarations of love. It had been more her fault than his, that night after the football game and party, when she had allowed, actually encouraged, him to unbutton her blouse and fondle her breasts. She remembered the terrible weeks after that night, when she was certain his finger had got her pregnant. Now she wished he had done more, that she had been even bolder and more vulnerable. Perhaps, their sex life would be different now, really exciting, and not the embarrassing ordeal that they felt obligated to endure two or three times a month.
As Grace was hooking her bra, the front door bell sounded, loudly and insistently. It was probably Wanda.
"Come on in," Grace shouted through the partially opened bathroom door. "I'm in here, getting ready to go shopping."
"It's just me, honey. Nothing important. I just came over to tell you the news: I lost six pounds last weekend. Isn't that wonderful?"
"Why, Wanda, that's marvelous! I'll bet Tom's proud of you. But you're not planning on losing more, are you?"
"Not much more-maybe a pound or two," Wanda said offhandedly. "Don't kid yourself about Tom, though. He's too busy screwing his clients' wives, and anybody else he can, to lose any sleep about my figure. But I don't really care what he does on the road. He brings home those nice fat commission checks, and they make practically anything tolerable."
"Wanda, you don't mean that," Grace chided as they moved into the kitchen. "You and Tom seem so happy. Everybody thinks so. I'm almost envious. I don't mean Richard and I aren't happy, it's just that lately he's been under such pressure at work...."
"Oh, come off it, Grace! We both know perfectly well that your husbands a flop in bed, and blames it on you. It's pretty evident to anyone with eyes. If you two weren't such idiots about sex, you'd shake your dated morals and try something new. Read up on it. Even doctors are saying that extra-marital sex can enhance, and sometimes save marriages. And it can even be profitable."
"What do you mean?" Grace asked. "If you're suggesting that wives ought to become prostitutes, to submit themselves to..."
"Poor, poor Grace," Wanda mocked, smiling. "I guess you'd rather bow down to your impotent husband's abuse than use your head? Come on, Grace, what's so bad about saving a marriage, no matter what methods you use? As for making it pay, you know as well as I do that money is one of Richard's major concerns. Believe me, if I were in your shoes I wouldn't think twice about getting involved in some sort of juicy sex thing!"
Grace was surprised when she realized that she had been, listening intently to Wanda, hanging on her neighbor's words, as though they were vested with great wisdom. Everything sounded so logical ... she was late, though, and despite the fact that her curiosity was piqued, Grace was anxious to excuse herself and start for the market. Richard had been adamant about dinner and would be furious if she failed to meet his demands.
"Please, Wanda, forgive me," she begged, "But I've simply got to shop for dinner. Maybe we can discuss this later."
"Sure, I understand," Wanda soothed. "But think about it, anyway. If you ever work up enough courage to do something about saving your marriage, let me know. I'm chummy with some of the more enlightened couples in the neighborhood, and I might be able to work you two into the action. You might find some answers to your problems. To be perfectly frank, I'd like to claim some of the sweets myself, but Tom is always out of town, and it's a rule that only couples can participate."
"Thanks, Wanda, but Richard and I would never agree to anything like that. And please, don't ever mention to anyone that we've even discussed the subject."
"Fine, honey, suit yourself," Wanda shrugged. "I've got to tear off now anyway. And besides, you've got to begin your daily ritual of servitude ... to stuff your supremely stable husband with sacrificial food and undeserved praise."
Grace hurried on the way to the market, spurred on as much by anger as fear that perhaps Wanda was right. Then her thoughts turned to Wanda's remarkable knowledge of sex and what she made sound like a harmless way to supplement the family income. Wanda had seemed so certain that any such venture-what ever it was-was really innocent and enjoyable. Her good friend never failed to amaze her.
* * *
The following afternoon, Grace received news of the Taylor's party the next afternoon. Wanda had telephoned to invite her and Richard. Seasoning the invitation with suggestions that this might well indeed be an ideal opportunity to salvage Grace's and Richard's marriage.
The guests sounded exciting, not at all the usual sort. Wanda had gone through the list, describing each person with candor. Grace was strangely, disturbingly thrilled at the prospect of the party. It would be an excellent outlet for the tensions that had been building up inside her. Hopefully even Richard would enjoy himself. She had called him at work and been flabbergasted when he had expressed an eagerness to attend the party.
As she was putting the finishing touches to her face, the telephone rang.
"Grace, this is Wanda. Listen, dress to the teeth this evening. Angus Leech, a big man in pictures, is coming, and I've heard that he's always on the lookout for talent. Remember what we talked about? Well, try to loosen up and be nice to him, for me. He might put you on to something worthwhile. Just keep it in mind. I've got to run now. Bye."
Grace lingered a moment, the monotonous dial tone lulling her into a hypnotic acceptance of the vague opportunities that the name Angus Leech formed in her mind. She replaced the receiver on the hook and headed for the bedroom, a peculiar sense of hope lending an unaccustomed pertness and courage to her stride.
"Please hurry, Richard. We're already twenty minutes late. You know how Wanda gets."
Seated on the edge of the bed, pulling on his socks, Richard grunted and frowned. Grace felt a little abashed at her own boldness, talking to him that way, and stood staring at him, waiting for the expected reprisal. But he continued to dress, silently and with deliberate haste. Involved as he was, he failed to notice her drawn out appraisal of his body. She had not dared to look at him long and openly-at his flaccid penis and balls, the curve of his rump-for nearly two years.
His frequent inability to achieve and maintain an erection made him extremely sensitive about his private parts, so she studiously avoided any reference to the area. This evening, though, she hardly considered the fear of reprimand. There pulsed in her a new hope, an as-yet undefined sense of adventure and self importance. Something in her was at the brink of fulfillment.
* * *
The party was already under full sway when, almost an hour late, Grace and Richard arrived. The living room was filled with the strains of exotic guitar music, muffled somewhat by a vulgar tenor voice issuing folk rock from the downstairs den. People were everywhere in the house, milling about, swilling down their drinks, searching for either Wanda or Tom to secure refills.
Still feeling deliciously agitated, Grace left Richard and wandered into the kitchen, looking for Wanda. She was startled to see an extraordinarily handsome man with both hands under a young girl's skirt. Shocked but fascinated, Grace stood in the doorway for a moment, observing the spectacle. Then she recognized the girl: Lana, Rita Martin's eighteen year old daughter! The girl was smiling and slowly rotating her hips in the older man's lap. The others in the kitchen were completely oblivious to what was happening right in front of them. They were obviously much too occupied to notice, being themselves lost in conversation and drinking.
"What a gorgeous dress, Grace! Why, you're absolutely beautiful!" Wanda cooed as she slipped through the throng and casually kissed Grace on the cheek. "I was afraid you and old grouch had changed your minds about coming. Well, what do you think of the party so far?"
"Wanda-" Grace halted, not knowing quite how to express her consternation at seeing Lana Martin being so flagrantly fondled by a man more than twice the pretty girls' age. "Wanda, I-don't you think Rita ought to know what's happening to Lana? Look at them-she's actually enjoying it!"
Wanda grinned and patted Grace consolingly on the shoulder. "I wouldn't worry, honey, if I were you. Rita's setting a fine example right now, in the back bedroom, with her husband and a nice young man they met at one of their own parties. Besides, Lana is in wonderful hands. That's Angus Leech she's with."
"You mean the film producer you mentioned, the one who's always on the lookout for talent?" Grace asked, her face coloring with the register of even greater shock.
"The same," Wanda said, still smiling. "Come with me now, I'll fix you a really wild drink, something to help you get into the swing of things."
As they left the kitchen, Grace saw Agnus Leech's right hand withdraw from under Lana's skirt and disappear inside her blouse. Lana's own hands were busily employed inside the man's unzipped pants, rousing him on to lewd, even more enthusiastic manipulations of her breasts. Her lips were parted and she seemed to be breathing heavily. Grace's heart raced madly, her legs rubbery as she followed her hostess into a lavishly decorated room.
Richard was already drinking, his expression clearly showing disapproval of the orgy like atmosphere of the party. As Wanda moved around behind the portable bar to fix herself and Grace the special, "really wild" alcoholic concoction she had mentioned, Richard leaned close to his wife and whispered. "Jesus, what a disgusting bunch. It looks like it's turning into a screw-in, one of those obscene orgies you read about. Foolishness like this makes me sick!"
But Grace paid little attention to her husband's disgruntlement. Instead, she gave herself over to the fascination building within her.
The music, the smoke-filled air, the people paired off or in small clusters, and the thought of the handsome film producer brazenly squeezing and exploring Lana's lush young body, made Grace feel helpless and submissive, unable to fight down the excitement provoking her to wish she were more a part of the party. The cocktail was working, too. Occasional rushes of warmth flooded her loins and softened everything and everyone in the room. Even Richard seemed less formidable, and she found herself thinking back to the excitement she had felt on that night they had come so close together in the back seat of his car, his hand on her breast, her taut tingling nipple growing more and more rigid between his thumb and forefinger.
She remembered how he had probed the swollen lips of her vagina with his other hand, finally slipping into its warm, moist interior with first one, then two fingers. She had pushed her crotch down against his hand, shamelessly, wantonly arching to engulf him . ...
"Grace, dear, I want you to meet someone, a very distinguished guest and personal friend of the Martin's. This is Mr. Angus Leech." Wanda beamed, her hands joining theirs in a salutary manner. "Angus-Mr. Leech-It might pay you to get to know one another. I'll see you both later, after I refresh everyone's drinks-especially Tom's," she called over her shoulder, departing.
"So then, you're Grace," Angus Leech offered. "Wanda has spoken of you with reverence and, I might add, seems to think we have something in common." His voice was deep and cultured, as though he had had training in diction as well as in the art of charming any female within range. "But let me suggest that we move to a quieter place, perhaps the living room, where we may talk without all this ghastly chaos."
She followed the tall, smartly dressed man to a small couch in the living room. Oddly, she had forgotten Richard, all the others, that this man had been taking cruel advantage of Rita's daughter in the kitchen, and was involved in some mysteriously illicit enterprise.
Angus Leech cast a quick glance around them, satisfying himself that they were safely out of earshot of others in the room. Then moving closer to Grace, he spoke in a conspiratorial tone: "Wanda has informed me that you're desperately in need of money, a great deal of money, which you might be interested in earning at your leisure, afternoons. I believe I can help you. You see, I own and operate, a small, quite private studio where my associates and I film and photograph art subjects. Quite frankly we deal mostly with nudes, sometimes filming couples or groups to personalize and highlight the creative aspects of uninhibited socialization. I pay quite handsomely and am sworn to protect the anonymity of my models. As for the films and photographs themselves, they are discreetly distributed among responsible agents in this and several other counties. What do you think, I mean knowing what I've explained to you?"
"I-I can't say yet, knowing so little about what you really do. Is there some way I can see for myself without becoming too involved?" Grace squirmed on the couch beside him, a brief flash of fear and her habitual feeling of inferiority coming over her.
Her sheer, daringly low cut dress felt weightless, inadequate as cover from Angus Leech's insulting professional evaluation of her tense ripe body.
"Try not to interpret my offer as anything but strictly business, Grace. Should you decide to accept, you may rest assured that you work will be thoroughly delightful and challenging, and very profitable. You'll be making a genuine contribution to a select segment of people."
"I understand-I think I do. I-I just-my husband-" Grace faltered, not really clear on what she had started to say. Angus Leech's hand tightened reassuringly on her forearm, then moved away and dipped inside his fashionably tailored jacket, reappearing a second later with a small white card between his fingers.
"Take my card and stop in to see me tomorrow afternoon, say between one and two. The address is on the card. Now, let's join the others and have another of Wanda's scandalous punch."
Together they picked their way through the crowded rooms to the rumpus room, where she was relieved to find Richard engaged in a heated debate with Tom. They were arguing, with much animation. Tom was very drunk, wore a supercilious grin, and waved his glass to punctuate the most decisive points in his argument. He did not notice Grace's entrance with Angus Leech.
The music was now frenetic, the air even thicker with smoke and a medley of perfumes. Grace saw Lana Martin standing in a corner across the room, her father's arm around her waist. Rita was behind the bar, a husky, brute faced man in his twenties seated in front of her on a tall stool. They were laughing and exchanging knowing, intimate looks according to the rules of some conspicuously erotic game.
Rita, a splendidly endowed woman of forty with long black hair, leaned forward on the bar, her huge breasts resting like balloons on the highly polished oak surface. Her young playmate cupped both of her breasts in his hands, then lifted his clenched fists to his mouth, tilting them up as though he were drinking an imaginary offering. Grace felt her nipples tingle and harden as she watched them, wondering if Bob Martin had also seen his wife and the young man playing their sex game. Then suddenly Wanda was beside her. "So there you are," Wanda scolded as she motioned for Grace to follow. "Hurry, I want to show you something,"
"Gosh," Grace remarked as they descended the stairs to the lower level of the house, "I've never attended a party anything like this. But what really amazes me is that it's all happening next door to my own home!"
"You're just growing up, honey."
"Wanda, how on earth do you know all this about sex and people and things changing?" Grace asked with undisguised awe and respect in her voice.
"I read, and I listen," Wanda answered. They were approaching the den. Wanda turned and put her finger to her lips, indicating to Grace that they must be quiet now.
Half dozen or so guests were standing just inside and around the den door, all staring raptly into the room. Crowding up close to the others, the two girls craned their necks to peer into the room, and what Grace saw took her breath away.
A short, heavily muscled man, whom she had never seen before, was sitting naked between two apparently young and yet totally uninhibited girls, also naked. Slouched down on the couch, as much on his back as his buttocks, he wore a smug grin and had his hands clasped behind his head. His long, thick penis rose totem-like and inflamed from his corded loins, his heavy testicles hanging like wine sacks over the edge of the cushion. One of the girls, a blonde with milk white skin and large breasts, was bent over the man, sliding her lips up and down the length of one side of the pulsing cock.
Then, as if by tacit agreement, she grasped the man's lust hardened member and thrust it toward the other girl, a brunette, who immediately seized it and began to tongue the wide spreading head. The man arched, his hands coming from behind his head almost involuntarily to wind his fingers, in the dark girls hair and pull her mouth down to his throbbing penile staff. Responding, his lust her own, she squealed and crammed his fleshy piece deeply, deliberately into her mouth. The thick spongy shaft drove down to her throat, choking her, until she sucked upwards, greedily milking his semen off, savoring the taste of it mixed with her own saliva. She then began to suck in earnest, her dark tresses bobbing as she pumped her head rhythmically over the breadth and span of the huge oozing organ.
Grace pressed against Wanda, frowning, and afraid that her hostess might detect that she was trembling and out of control. Nevertheless, it was urgent to Grace that Wanda's attention be directed to the fact that the brunette girl might be suffering, or ashamed. Waving off Grace's panicky intrusion, Wanda took her friend's arm and advanced a few steps.
"My God, Wanda," Grace groaned with innocent disbelief, "Look at her! She-likes it!"
The blonde pulled the jerking penis from the other girl's mouth and plunged it into her own moist cavern, her lips thin with the pressure of her arduous sucking. The dark girl burrowed her lush wet lips in the man's pubic bush, gradually, teasingly, inching lower and lower toward his huge throbbing testicles.
"Bear down, ooooooh, suck, suck, you lousy cunts!" the man shouted, his hips bucking upwards, imbedding himself in the honey-haired girl's throat. Grace mashed her dimpled thighs against Wanda's firm buttocks and pointed with her chin toward the trio. The bubbly white lather at the corners of the girl's mouth frightened and intrigued Grace. "Is he cumming-is he cumming in her mouth?"
"Not yet, honey, but soon!" Wanda assured her with glee and a strange hoarseness. "Be quiet and watch."
Ramming deeper and deeper into the blonde's sucking mouth, the man turned his gaze directly to Grace, who was now kneeling almost at his feet, her eyes glazed with shock and amazement. He winked at her and grabbed his balls, pushing one of the boiling orbs into the dark girl's open mouth. She whispered and with her free hand eased his other testicle between her full lips, gently pulling and pushing his elastic scrotum as she rolled her hot tongue from side to side. His breathing was heavy, mounting. Sensing the nearness of his peak, the blonde tightened her lips and, working her hands under his backside, pulled the cheeks of his ass forward, driving his loaded prick into her throat up to the hilt. He convulsed, phlegmy white jets of cum spurting and gorging her, into her slender throat. She swallowed and pulled on his cock, eager to gulp down every last drop of his sperm, but thin streams of the precious fluid seeped from her red wet lips and ran down the still lurching shaft, to lick off her share of his cumming. A spirited murmur, rising to a pitch of applause, rose from the onlookers. Then, to Grace's surprise, Wanda strode to the center of the room and, raising her hands above her head, clasped them together in a gesture of victory.
Without thinking, Grace joined the others in hearty applause. Both girls stood, nodded, and just as Wanda had, opened their arms in admiration of the conceitedly smirking man, who rose unsteadily and returned the compliment in like manner, not only to the girls, but his audience-and to Grace in particular.
"If I may," he said, "I'd like to thank you all for whatever inspiration you gave me during this happy encounter. And I'd like especially to laud my hostess for having the good sense and money to arrange this occasion. Nor am I blind to her taste in neighbors, namely, the felicitously shaped young woman now at her side, of whom I've heard glorious reports from my latest, I hope last employer, Augus Leech. May we meet again."
As the group straggled up the stairs, Grace turned to Wanda and asked, "What did he mean? Is he really working for Mr. Leech? How did he find out about my conversation with Angus-Leech?"
* * *
As Grace Benton waited for someone to answer the door to Angus Leech's studio, she attempted to assemble the events of the night before in a rational order. First, there had been her alarm at seeing Angus Leech in the kitchen with young Lana. Then, even more unexpected, there had been the naked man, his lovely mistresses, and the incredibly liberal behavior of most of the other guests. Everything about the party had been shocking, yet fascinating and....
"Yes, may I help you?" the petite blonde asked, her boldly casual scrutiny of Grace no less startling than the sudden appearance of someone at the door.
"Oh, yes-yes," Grace stammered. "I've an appointment with Angus-Mr. Leech-now. That is, I mean, he said to come about this time. I'm Grace Benton. I met him-we were at a party last night and were introduced by my neighbor. Is he--? "
"Sure, he's here," the blonde smirked. "Come on up."
Grace could not help but notice the blonde girl's loose, arrogant gait as they approached the elevator.
"You going to work for Angus?" the girl asked, again with almost studied casuality.
"I don't know. I'm only here to-to talk," Grace said, "You see, I've never modeled before or been much of anything but a simple housewife."
"Well, don't worry yourself about the work. It's a cinch. I got used to it right away. Angus had a reputation for being the best in the business. Okay, here we are," the blonde announced as the elevator grumbled to a stop. They stepped out of the cubicle, turned left and strode down a plushly carpeted corridor.
Despite her escort's cocky demeanor, Grace grew even more optimistic when she felt her feet sinking deep into the luxurious pile of the carpet. At last they stood in front of a huge door inscribed with Angus Leech's initials. The girl inserted a gold key in the door, and they entered. Inside, Grace drew a sigh from her throat as the opulent decor of the room assailed her senses.
Quite obviously it was a waiting room. There were impressionistic paintings, a brass rack laden with sophisticated magazines, and three sculptures comprised of complicated but provocatively fluid armatures and convexities. She wondered what Richard would think of such a show of affluence, if he would be awed or annoyed. Then it occurred to her that she was alone, that the blonde had disappeared. The inner door opened and Angus Leech materialized as though from another world, his brow beaded with sweat, his eyes flashing.
"Grace, Grace, darling, you came! I hope I've not kept you waiting. We've been filming, you know, and I'm notoriously forgetful when we're shooting. Do forgive me!"
"I've only been here a few minutes," she said shakily. "Your friend helped me find my way." Grace smile was unconvincing.
"That was Millie, my secretary, you might say. But let's get down to business. I think it most imperative that I be honest with you from the beginning."
Grace stiffened, her full chest heaving nervously. Angus Leech's directness disturbed her.
"I can't think of considering you for a position until I'm absolutely sure that you're qualified. If you've no objections I'll put a few pertinent questions to you. First off, may I inquire as to your exact age?"
"I'm twenty-nine, almost thirty." she replied with haughty innocence. "My side of the family keeps well-and we're all disgustingly healthy," she added, a note of half hearted apology in her voice.
"Of course I can see that, my dear. What are your measurements?"
"I'm not certain, exactly. Is it really necessary that you know that too?" Grace's face flushed a bright crimson, her eyes searching at Angus Leech's feet for respite from his intense gaze.
"I could speculate, yes, but I'm not normally given to chance," He said, the trace of a titter qualifying his sincerity. "I'm confident, therefore, that you'll comply with my wish to confirm your implied guarantee that your figure meets my requirements."
Grace gasped inwardly at the man's suggestion. Also intimidating was his insulting leer and what was an unmistakable lump bucking obscenely in his pants crotch.
"I can see in your expression that you understand what I expect of you. But you needn't feel queasy about undressing here. We'll not be disturbed," he assured her, "and there aren't anymore interviews scheduled for this afternoon."
Awkwardly, Grace Benton unzipped her dress. She was not as much terrified by the prospect of her nudity as she was by the smooth and calculating anticipation evident in Angus Leech's handsome anxious face.
"How far down should I go?" Grace weakly inquired, thinking all the while of the money and how pleased Richard would be with it.
"How far are you delicious?"
Nodding assent, she hesitantly lifted her filmy slip up over her shoulders. Standing clad in nothing more than her straining bra and panties she looked to Leech for a last minute reprieve, some signal that her humiliation was sufficient to warrant redressing.
But there was no mercy in his eyes-only an insane, high voltage glint that frightened her to hasten her performance toward its end. Reaching both hands high behind her, she unclasped her bra strap and, shying in a half turn away from his demanding scan of her superb white torso, wriggled loose from the scanty garment.
"Turn around!" he commanded. "I haven't time to indulge your stupid little ego. Let me see your nipples. Ah ... yes, they're brown and full. Excellently balanced too. But hurry, let's see if your thighs are marked. Strip!"
Without hesitation Grace responded, squirming frantically out of her underpants, almost tripping as she struggled to disentangle them from her ankles. Not even Angus's infamous right hand plunged inside his loosened trousers, covering his vulgar prick and balls, stalled her willingness to obey. It was similar to the party, she thought, the same unreasonable surging of fire and excitement in her body. And he had promised money, too.
"Yes, you're perfect! You'll earn a great deal, much more than you imagined, working for me," he said, his eyes feasting hungrily on her pearly curving hips and the dark brown triangle of pubic hair between her thighs. His hand slithered lasciviously over his throbbing, now partially exposed rod, a gleaming nodule of semen welling at the tip.
"What shall I do now?" Grace asked, her question a frail whisper.
Angus Leech edged wordlessly forward on his chair, motioning Grace closer with his free hand. He then opened his fly all the way. She could see his sperm bloated balls nestling like fat bells below his erect penis. Moving toward him a few steps, she was remotely astonished by what she was doing, but at the same time acutely conscious of how her own action aroused her.
"Now, Grace, comes the real test. Many girls', the silly ones, flunk out at this point." His breathing was dense with lust, his facial features transfigured as he inhaled her sweet, clean musk.
"Come closer!"
As she moved a step forward, her belly inches from his aristocratic chin, she thought of Richard and their barren years together, of their hardships and blind forages into sexual play. What would he think of her now?
"On the sofa, sit there," Angus commanded, crossing to the couch himself.
Suddenly he snaked out his hand and seized her wrist, pulling her down forcefully beside him. Then, without warning, he half rose and knelt on the floor between her firm thighs, staring at her soft curling pubic mound and the slightly wet lips of her tight cunt. His experienced hands moved under her buttocks, digging into her flesh so fiercely that she shined from the pain. Just as she shut her eyes, Grace caught a last glimpse of his satanic face easing down toward her sensitive vaginal slit, and the realization of what he was about to do made her recoil with a momentary repugnance.
"No! Oh, please, don't, don't do that!" she sobbed; but Leech's grip was powerful and unrelenting. "Please, no one has ever done that, not even my husband. Don't! It's making me sick!"
But her cries merely goaded him on. His long tongue flicked like a lizard's at her cringing vulva, purposefully teasing her to increasing responsiveness. Grace opened her eyes and watched with horror as he placed his thumbs on her naked cuntal lips and drew apart the downy fluff framing her sex.
Grace groaned with the thrill of his first probing inside her vagina. Her body automatically arched upwards, her stomach churning with wave after wave of sensuality. "Ohhh, please, please stop! I can't bear it ... it's making me ... I'm ... Jesus! Go on, eat me, eat me up, you bastard! Use it-suck my guts out!"
Becrazed by her pleading, his victory, he plunged his tongue further and further into her now squirming cunt, absorbing the flow of her cuntal juices with a relish uncommon even to him. He buried his face deeper between her thighs, sucking and slurping, and began to spread the full rounded cheeks of her buttocks with the rude ends of his fingers.
"No, God! No!" Grace wailed. "Not there too!" Angus Leech continued to abuse her, running a presumptive finger around the contracting circle of her anus. He pushed slowly into the tight rubbery chamber with the middle finger of his right hand. One knuckle, then two grinding into her. Rising from her raw, slippery vaginal slit, he confronted her face to face with his glistening lips and grinned inhumanly as he withdrew his finger from her rectum.
"Don't stop!" Grace begged, "For God's sake, have mercy!"
He wormed three fingers in her pussy and rolled them from wall to wall, lubricating them with her flowing juices. She jacked her legs back even with her breasts as he wormed two slick fingers back into her rectal cavity and renewed his vile assault of her wide open cunt.
"Bite me!" she screamed. "Bite my thing!"
"What thing? Say it, you whore!"
"My, my hole. Bite my hole there! I'm ready, yes! Go faster with your mouth. I don't care ... not now, not now! Please finish me, please!"
His clammy paws ran roughshod over her waist and trembling breasts, occasionally dancing down below her puckering navel to where his searing reptile tongue tased and savored the dual orifices between her widespread legs.
"I'm ready-I'm starting!" Grace shouted, filling the soundproof room with her gasping passion. "I'm cummmmmming! Ooohhh, yes!" she exploded, jerking and pushing against her new employer's fingers and mouth, the beautiful rush of fiery, spastic relief coursing every nook and crevice of her exquisite shape. "Are you ... are you cumming?" .
At last she fell back, her pale arms and shoulders drooping submissively, uncaring that her vaginal mouth was bare and gaping, her secrets revealed. Nothing was left to her now. Angus Leech's accusing glare did not phase her; it was what she had expected.
His voice came from far away. "You mustn't look upon yourself as a failure. I'm certain you don't realize my condition, or even that men are sometimes unequal to women like you, but I want you to understand that my-call it judgment-my estimation of a woman had nothing to do with my participation with her in an artistic event between the sexes. I'm saying that you're dazzlingly desirable and more than qualified to take a key position in my studio. Most important, Grace, is your responsibility to the masses, their education concerning matters of sex. I know what you must be thinking," Angus said calmly and almost tenderly. "You're wondering how our involvement this afternoon relates to your work with me. Trust me when I say it does, and vitally. I must be wholly confident that anyone I'm considering for a position be equipped, emotionally as well as physically, to handle the work. After all, others are involved, and I've got to guard my investments against incompetence."
Grace listened as she straightened her stockings. His mention of incompetency filled her with fear, seemed threatening even though he had told her only moments before that she was eminently qualified to model in his studio. Why, why was she so afraid of failure, of disappointing her husband, Angus Leech, everyone?
"And now, my precious," He said cheerily, "I think it's the right moment to toast our new agreement."
CHAPTER TWO
Grace Benton heard the front doorbell, and at first she thought it was Wanda. Putting aside her dishes she descended to the porch landing and opened the door. It was Hollie, the single girl who lived across the street in a smaller version of all the houses in the neighborhood.
"Hi, Grace," Hollie puffed. "Excuse me, I'm out of breath. I've been making the rounds this morning, and I swear, I'm going to take Wanda's advice and start dieting! She says most people are short winded because they're too heavy, and I guess she's right in my case."
The only thing too heavy about you is your chest, Grace thought to herself, looking at the young redhead's enormous bosom.
Richard had said that Tom and all the other men in the neighborhood constantly joked about Hollie's breasts. Grace suspected that it was not only Hollie's ample anatomy that provoked men. It was doubtless the redhead's unyielding, nearly fanatic sense of morality, her saintly attitude, that made her a target for ridicule.
"Uh, Wanda tells me you've got a job now," Hollie said, seating herself opposite Grace at the kitchen table. "It's none of my business, and you can tell me so, but aren't you making a big mistake working for a man like that?"
"What man?" Grace asked. "What did Wanda tell you?"
"Well, she said that you're supposed to be posing for someone named Leech, in the nude! And she said Richard doesn't know. You'd better listen to me and give up the whole rotten business. It'll only cause trouble and make you ashamed to face everyone. I don't know how you even considered it!"
"You don't know what you're talking about," Grace lied. "You're making something out of nothing. So please, keep your opinions to yourself. It so happens I'm working with Mr. Leech in a purely creative capacity, on an education project, and Richard doesn't know because I want to surprise him with the money."
"Well, I'm sorry. Wanda brought it up, and I, well, it sounded, you know . ... "
"Yes, I know. It sounded like something exciting, so dirty to your way of thinking. Are you jealous, Hollie? Are you jealous that now I'm doing worthwhile work, something more than just joining church groups and talking about helping people, the way you do? Are you planning to spoil my plan, telling Richard? Are you?"
Grace was shocked but pleased by her own outburst, the daring with which she lied to the self righteous little bitch. But she was relieved that she had not called Hollie the name she had meant to. The poor girl was shaken enough.
"I shouldn't have spoken that way," Grace said comfortingly. "I'm tense, that's all. The new job is strenuous and of course, you can appreciate that I'm eager to make a go of it and help Richard relax about money, and security." She was further amazed when her words assuaged Hollie with the same effectiveness that Angus Leech's had had after yesterday's crisis in his office.
"Oh yeah, I know," Hollie enthused. "I'm really proud of you, that you're so dedicated to Richard and to the brand new job."
"Thanks. But now, if you'll forgive me, Hollie, I've got to clean house and get ready for this afternoon. Drop by in a day or two, if you've got time, and I'll let you know how everything is going."
* * *
Grace Benton felt herself, despite the strongest doubts, falling more and more in line with Angus Leech's way of thinking. She had had a difficult time that morning, fighting hesitancies, fears of a disastrous mistake. But she had dressed according to his instructions and now, still early, she sat in the waiting room.
Richard had called at noon, as usual, and nothing had been different in his tone. She had almost hoped he would be tender or in some respect aware of her tenseness. She had wanted him to awaken in her a crippling sense of danger, to strengthen her mistrust of the charming man who was at this very minute just beyond the door, preparing for her entrance. But now danger was dulled, beyond her, in Angus Leech's hands.
Grace ran her fingers long the soft leather of the tan couch, thinking again of yesterday, how she had been responsive to the sensual invasions the perverted use of her helpless body.
"Millie said you had arrived," Angus said as he entered the room and seated himself beside her.
"All right, I suppose. But about the money, the three hundred dollars I found in my purse when I got home...."
"Listen," Angus Leech said, chuckling, "you earned every cent of it. Anyway, we haven't time to haggle over a few dollars, or perhaps you've changed your mind?"
"No, I don't think so, but there's talk around the neighborhood. Wanda...."
"Mrs. Taylor is quite discreet. I expect she'll join us too, one of these days. Not for the money, mind you, but because she's open minded and wants to help. You're special, though, and have so much more to offer people."
Grace's misgivings melted, a glow of pride and self assurance replacing them. No one had ever said she was superior to Wanda. She felt a kind of smugness rising in her.
"Now, let's forget about your neighbors and talk about the work at hand. First off, I can't impress upon you enough how important authenticity is in our work. You'll be meeting people inside who know exactly what I want, must have, and they'll help you understand your function. Millie will help, so listen to her. Let's go in now, I want to introduce you to someone."
Grace followed him through the door, into a room that was surprisingly like any one of a number of studio apartments she had seen in her college days. A couch, a bed, a table, a few chairs and all very ordinary. And there was a man, not much taller than Angus Leech, seated on the edge of the bed. He was dark and muscular.
"Grace, this is Irish. I want you two to get acquainted, talk, get the feel of each other. You'll be working together this afternoon. I'll be with you later." Grace noticed a strange, distracted quality in Leech's voice, as though he were excited. As he left the room, he cast a secretive glance toward the man on the bed.
"Come on over here," Irish said, motioning to a spot beside him, his eyes quickly taking in Grace's voluptuous curves as she moved slowly to the spot he had indicated. "That's a pretty dress, you know. Not every woman can fill out a cheap dress."
"I was, uh, told to wear this," she mumbled, ashamed of herself and sorry she had not brought something more attractive to wear.
"Oh, no, don't worry. I know you have better clothes. It's your body, all that underneath, you should be very proud."
Grace turned to look at him as he patted her soft shoulder with a gentleness and ease natural to one accustomed to doling out sympathy. Then, taking her off guard, he tightened his grip on her shoulder and pulled her close to him, planting a hot firm kiss on her lips. "No, relax," he breathed in her ear as she struggled to free herself from his arms. "You take everything wrong. Angus warned me that you would be afraid."
She squirmed back a little, aware that a prickly feeling of pleasure was traveling through her thighs. Grace hoped she could not feel the goose pimples rising like tiny welts where his fingers played lightly at the nape of her neck. His other hand began to creep along her stomach, sawing back and forth and steadily higher toward her breasts. When his thumb brushed the underside of her right breast, she whimpered, an electric shock rippling down her spine and finally coming to rest with searing heat between her thighs. He pulled her close again, this time kissing her ear, his tongue wetly rummaging inside it.
"Please, oh! You mustn't. Angus will be back soon!"
"I know, baby, I know," Irish panted, his hand moving up to fully cup Grace's straining breast. She sighed again and concentrated all her will on thoughts of Richard, her home, the future, but to no avail.
Her pelvis began to push and withdraw with a rhythmic rocking motion, betraying her, making her protestations as useless and hypocritical as though she were preaching chastity in the nude.
Then he slipped his hand deftly inside her blouse onto the swell of flesh above the black bra. His other hand slipped down her arm and moved under the hem of her shirt to explore and palm the dampness of her inner thigh. Then suddenly, he drew away from her and spoke coldly, with business-like evenness. "Undress, right now! He'll be back in a minute, and we've got to be ready."
"I don't understand!" Grace blurted. But he seemed not to hear her and rose, taking off his shirt and crossing to the table. She saw that pants reared at the crotch and were wet and bulging.
"Come on, dammit, get out of that outfit!" he commanded, startling her to her feet. When Grace failed to move, he marched over to her and, with one downward tug, unzipped her blouse down the back. He then stopped and seized her skirt with both hands and pulled it over her head.
"Keep your stockings on, and your panties. I'll take them off when it's time."
Angus Leech entered just as Irish tossed Grace's clothes to the floor. Millie appeared next, the man who had been at Wanda's party making love with the two women, hard behind her. Frowning, he clutched a rumpled brown hat in one hand and a full bottle of scotch in the other.
"Well, I'll be dammed if it isn't sweet little Miss Grace," the nude man at the party boomed, ogling Grace's delicious, nearly nude body. "And here she is with Mr. Irish, in what seems to me an outrageously compromising position. Holy Christ! What we won't all do for a few lousy bucks!"
"Shutup!" Leech said curtly, menace in his voice. "You'll have your chance to shoot off, if you're not too incapacitated when your turn comes."
Grace forgot her nudity for a moment and stared back at the half drunk, obnoxious man, remembering him on Wanda's couch, the two lusty girls sucking and drinking his sex. He had chosen her, out of all the women present, to speak to after he had spent himself in that girl's mouth, and now, having dismissed Angus's remarks, he pored over her scantily clad body.
"Oh, I see that you like our newcomer," Angus Leech chortled. "Believe me, you'll have a real understanding of Grace after Irish performs."
"The cameras are ready, Mr. Leech, whenever you are," Millie said, the same tinge of impatience in her voice and manner.
At that, Grace's eyes darted to Angus Leech for reassurance, but he was standing by the door, issuing imperious orders to the men wheeling in the two portable movie cameras. As they positioned the equipment, in front of Irish and Grace, who were still standing by the bed, Leech noticed the clothing in a heap on the floor.
"Here, Grace," Leech said, bending down to retrieve the garments. "Put them on again. The title of this film is "Wayward Wife", and I want you to look like a housewife. And Grace, pay no attention to the cameras, nor to any of us. Irish knows what to do, just let your body respond to him."
Grace was vaguely aware of a delicate whirring from the cameras as Irish snaked his arm around her waist and gently forced her down to sit with him on the edge of the bed. A last dim thought of trying to tear herself away from him, and out of the room, flickered in her mind, but dwindled to a spark, and finally out, when the strange man swayed closer and placed a series of light kisses on her slender throat.
His hands roamed expertly, still lightly, over her breasts and up and down her spine. Sweet chills fluttered involuntarily in her stomach when he pressed his wet lips on hers, his tongue plunging deep in her mouth. She felt a sudden rush of cool air on her back as he unzipped her skirt down to the cleavage between her buttocks.
He stood, then, drawing her up with him, and coolly pulled her blouse over her head for the second time that afternoon. She felt his hand behind her back again, unsnapping the hooks of her bra and next the thrilling weight of her breasts falling full and free from support. She gasped as he removed it from her shoulders and heard him utter a moan of appreciation when the magnificent melons came into view. He sat on the bed and, hooking two fingers in the elastic waist band of her black nylon panties, pulled her last vestige of modesty down over the stark white symmetry of her buttocks.
Taking her solidly by the hips, her turned torso to face him, her soft, resilient pubic hair only inches from his lips, Grace was horrified and winced, when she heard movement behind her and looked over her shoulder to see the cameras gliding like the eyes of prying monsters to either side of her, and she jumped when Irish's tongue darted forward like a lizard and touched the dewy outer petals of her vagina.
His hands were on her backside, pressuring her forward, his fingers digging relentlessly into the spongy vellum of her flesh. She was losing her balance, falling forward against his face, against his teasing tongue now swirling lewdly in and out of her tortured pussy. At last she lost her footing completely and fell with him on the firm surface of the bed. He quickly grabbed her ankles and one shoulder, half flipping her on her back beside him, and then with both hands cupped at her up-thrust breasts, squeezing them cruelly until the nipples stretched and spread like peaches on the verge of bursting. She lay frozen to the mattress,, her humiliation complete, as he wormed out of his pants and returned to the ravishment of her body in one or two fluid movements. Again he attacked her aching breasts, closing his mouth over them one at a time, sucking and biting the pink lips to hard rubbery erection.
Grace felt his still rod burning poker hot into her thigh. Despite her revulsion and the waves of disbelief that this was actually happening to her, little pangs of raw pleasure began to nibble at her nerve endings, peaking in her nipples and budding into full flower in her throbbing clitoris. His breath thickening, Irish brought his left hand down and worked his middle finger into Grace's nakedly contracting cunt.
"Oh, ooooooh! My God, noooooo!" she cried even as she involuntarily ground her hips higher against the greedy, invading finger. Her legs splayed wider apart, exposing her moist quivering cunt to the leering lens of the cameras moving in for close up shots of the spectacle.
"Now! Fuck her good!" came Angus Leech's shrill voice from somewhere in the room.
Irish rose on the bed to his knees and began to stroke the taut uncircumcised foreskin of his brazen shaft.
"What do you think of this?" he grinned, waving the hardened rod of flesh before her unbelieving eyes.
She tried to speak, to tell him to stop, but he continued to display himself as she watched with tears filling her eyes. His body eased up to her, and he lifted and bullied her legs high and back over her writhing shoulders until she was bent almost double. She jerked and fought in one last desperate struggle, her head flailing from side to side, as he introduced the blood swollen prick into the slightly parted lips of her tight, defenseless cunt. She held her breath as the long, hard thing penetrated the tender walls of the passage, flexing and growing with each measured stroke. Each thrust drove him deeper and fattened her knees painfully into her chest. Then he humped faster and faster, deeper and deeper, his pistoning cock disappearing up to the hilt as his sperm bloated testicles slapped hard down against her tiny puckered anus.
Grace had lost her will now, and she knew that, in spite of her humiliation and disgust, she was totally subjugated by this unknown man pumping wildly into her! She reached up to encircle his back with her arms, grinding her lust drenched vaginal crevice harder to him as her ardor maddened him on to ferocious speed and savagery. She no longer knew fear, only the glorious sensation of lying beneath this man who was fucking her against her will, and giving back to him as much as he was giving her. His hands clamored frantically under her buttocks, cupping each cheek and raising her pelvis for easier access to her depths, and he toiled above her, feeding her longer, smoother strokes that drew his cock out of her to its blunt, hardened head, then banging back into her, punished her cervix anew. She was oblivious to the approach of one camera to a position less than a foot from the edge of the bed. Angus Leech gestured maniacally and pointed to the thin, glistening lips of Grace's tight, hair-lined cunt wrapped obscenely around the hammering penis. Without looking behind him, he wiggled his fingers to invite the waiting man to join the fun.
"Okay, you bastard, do your stuff," Leech, whispered tremulously in the man's ear.
Without a word, he lay down beside Grace, his loins aligned with her head. He glanced up at Irish, smiled, and grasped Grace's head with both his hands, arching his hips toward her face.
"Go ahead, fuck her face!" Leech screamed.
Responding, the man hunched his muscular back and guided his giant, half hard cock to Grace's lips. She convulsed, unable to fathom the threat of the slowly lengthening penis pressing against her teeth. It was too much to focus on at once, one cock plunging in and out of her belly, another one, much larger, trying to push into her mouth! B oh! It was wonderful!
"I'm almost there, I'm almost. . . " Irish hissed as he abruptly halted his motion and searched Leech's face for directions.
"Change, change, then, for God's sake, and hurry!" Leech yelled.
Then scrambling for new vantage points of Grace's body, the two men traded places and resumed their violations of the sumptuous openings of the girl at their disposal. Irish's cock found her mouth and mashed inward between her lips without hesitation. The rapidly sobering man ran his mammoth prick into her hungrily clasping cunt.
They fucked into her for a minute and, his eyes rolling back, Irish hoisted Grace's head and rocketed a hot, searing stream of pungent, white cum into her mouth. Gagging, she swallowed, but was unable to keep from losing some of the gushing liquid at the corners of her mouth. Still, the other man with his boots tucked between the springs and the bed frame, dug his huge driving muscle into the flat plane of her wildly pulsating pussy, stretching and abusing the elastic, marble like walls with a vengeance.
"Fuck me, fuck me harder! I'm cummmmmmg" Grace shrieked, her full white buttocks swirling up and almost disrupting the boring rhythm of the man's gyrating lunges.
"Give it hell, baby!" he puffed down into her lust contorted face, renewing his assault and plowing his huge bulging cock into her with even greater fervor and abandon. Grace writhed ecstatically under him, the tremendous passion at its crest, her lips parting as she moaned and kicked madly with her heels digging wildly at the man's driving buttocks, spurring him on.
"Jesus! Here I come, slut! Here's my load...."
His muscular buttocks began to jerk uncontrollably as his cock expanded with the first rushes of cumming, the viscous liquid spurting deep inside her, filling her starved cavity and squirting out at the base of his cock with every new thrust. Grace could feel it, warm and sticky, running mercury like down into the crevice of her ass and onto the sweat soaked bed. Gradually his motions slowed to a halt, and then, delivering one last spastic stroke, he collapsed uselessly on her flushed body. After a moment, he lifted himself from between her still wide split legs and withdrew his steadily deflating member from her vagina with a lewd popping noise.
Grace lay immobile, limp, watching the exhausted performer roll over on his back beside the equally drained Irish. She was paralyzed by shame and could not yet encompass the entire meaning of what had happened!
This morning she had been a loyal wife to Richard, and now she lay here with the foul sperm of two utter strangers still running out of her!
Yet, something, a lingering thrill, still hummed excitingly in her nipples, in her flared cuntal passage. If someone, anyone, wanted her now, she would not resist or even care very much. Nothing mattered now, not anymore!
As though reading her thoughts, Angus Leech approached her, holding his hardened cock as he hurriedly greased its pulsing length with a clear jellyish lubricant.
"All right, you two," he gesticulated to Irish and the man, "Off the bed!" When the two men had moved away and gone to the back of the room, Angus Leech looked at Grace with a devilish glint in his eyes, "I presume you're ready for the finale, my dear?"
"What-are you going to do?" she replied blandly but with faint interest.
"You'll see," he answered, helping her to her knees. "I'm going to fuck you ... just that."
Nothing could be more debasing than what had already happened, Grace decided, and allowed herself to be positioned for his use.
She obeyed his sharp commands to turn away from him and kneel like an animal on her hands and knees, her ivory buttocks presented to him like a sacrificial offering. Grace cringed and rocked forward on her hands when Leech's finger came into contact with the tightly puckered lips of her anus, ambitiously massaging and tracing its velvety nm.
"Not there, not there, too!" she suddenly wailed as she became aware of his intent, but her convulsive sobs only excited his depraved mind to more deliberate action.
Clinging fiendishly to one cheek of her ass, he placed the tip of his cock at her tight, cringing anus and pushed the oozing end of it an inch into her, crushing and drawing the soft outer skin in with him. Then, a slight snap, and he was in ... a third of his huge, hardened penis was sunk in her ass!
The helpless young wife's body pitched forward, away from him, but he followed her like a human dog after a bitch in heat, his knees shuffling into the bed with her, his hands grinding and mauling her breasts sadistically. Now he was almost buried in her, and she felt her clitoris tingle as his balls swung closer and closer to it with each lunge. She was actually liking it!
"How's that, bitch! You like being fucked in your ass-hole, eh?"
"It's good, oooooohhh ... ooohhh!! ! '"
"Tell me, what am I doing, what do you want!"
"You're fucking me ... in ... in my ass! And Oh God, please don't stop, ever!" she heard herself beg piteously. "Fuck me faster, faster ... oooh, faster!"
Angus Leech's face contorted as she pleaded for him to go on. He fucked her rectum like a maddened beast, his tempo increasing with her cries, until they were at the edge of the far side of the bed. His moment was building, coming on with a force and drama that made him drool and lose strings of spittle on the small of her back. Her own forces were mounting again, and she ground salaciously back on the man's thighs to enjoy the full benefit of his cock.
Suddenly, without warning, his desire spilled into her and brought on her own summing.
Seconds later, Angus Leech disentangled himself from his depleted partner and gazed glassy eyed at the cameramen. "You got that, all of it, didn't you?" His question came in short gulps, a query intelligible perhaps only to his experienced technicians, and to Millie, who was scribbling notes on a piece of crinkly note paper. Leech rose, then, strode arrogantly on the couch.
"You know," he said, "I'm thoroughly convinced that we should make this into a sequence. Say, a series of films depicting the housewife's return to nature. With Grace's assets, there's no telling what might develop!"
With his last remark, he turned to Grace who was still sprawled on the bed, the wetness of their sperm matting her pubic hair and pooling beneath her, "What do you think, sweetheart?"
Her silence provoked a wry smile on Leech's face. "By the way, Mrs. Benton," Millie said, tossing her blonde hair as she went over to Grace, here's your envelope for today. The instructions for tomorrow are enclosed." Then, her nose bunching up into an impish grin, she added, "You do have a mink, don't you?" Well, if you don't, I'm sure you'll be able to afford one with what's in today's envelope for you."
Grace rose quietly and dressed, avoiding the others' faces as she swiped here and there on her body with the towel that Irish had handed her a few moments before. She was astonished that they could be so casual and indifferent so soon after the humiliating orgy that had ended only five minutes ago.
No one had even asked how she was, whether she was alive or anything. But what difference would it make, she wondered, wriggling her foot into her shoe. What could possibly change things? She knew that she should be filled with repugnance and loathing, but she was not, and this alarmed Grace Benton more than anything.
CHAPTER THREE
Richard had always chosen their anniversary nights to enact the sex farce that had embarrassed them for years. There was little chance that tonight would be an exception, Grace Benton thought as she finished clearing off the dinner table.
"What do you say we turn in?" Richard said with nonchalance. "I guess you're pretty anxious to celebrate our anniversary ... as always."
"Yes, I'm very tired," Grace lied. "I'd like to store up a bit of extra sleep tonight. Wanda's asked me for another fitting tomorrow, in the afternoon, and the excitement this evening has me off balance."
"Off what! On our anniversary!" Goddammit!" he blasted, his face reddening, "I just don't know what to make of you. You've been behaving like a giddy school girl ever since that damned party!" His furor increasing, he stormed off toward the hall bathroom, detouring at the landing at the top of the stairs to snatch up the box with Grace's necklace in it. "There!" he screamed, slamming the box against the wall, "There's your present! Pick it up!"
* * *
Grace had come put early to sit on their lawn chair on the patio to feed the birds, and think. Last night had been worse in many ways that the experience at Angus Leech's studio the day before, and Richard's anger had converted the satisfaction and joy she had felt into a sordid recollection of her encounter with the others ... Irish, that man, the lewd bestial act by Angus, and Angus himself. And Millie, always so knowing and insultingly smug, as though she had lived several lifetimes of degradation, and survived. Would she become a Millie, so jaded and enlightened about sex and exhibitionism that she would one day jot down notes about it with the same efficiency? God, no! she resolved with an inward sweep of conclusive triumph. She would learn, earn, and get out, be herself again!
"Grace, honey, are you crying?" Startled, Grace whipped her head around and watched Wanda's form sharpen through the tears. "You, silly, what's the matter?"
"Nothing, nothing at all! Haven't you ever been happy enough to laugh this way? And besides, what do you know .about girls like me? It's only ... oh damn!" Grace broke down completely, her body convulsing with sobs.
"Honey, come on now, let's talk about it," Wanda said softly, seating herself to cradle Grace in her arms. "Has that husband of yours been beating you down again?"
"Oh, Wanda, it's not just that. I feel so guilty, so ... dirty! I can't make myself believe that what I'm doing for Angus Leech is worth the money."
"So that's it," Wanda said, brightening. "Listen, you ninny, haven't I told you I'd do the same thing myself, and enjoy doing it, if I were in your shoes? All right, look at it this way. You want to save your marriage, don't you? You want to help Richard. Well, it's a cinch that he's not going to admit his own fault as far as your sex life in concerned. And it'll take years for him to earn enough to be satisfied, if he ever did know. So take it easy. You're doing the right thing."
"I wish I could really believe that, Wanda. At least I feel better, though. Thanks a lot."
"Don't mention it. Just fill me in on what happened yesterday at the studio. And don't leave out a thing!
"I'd rather not," Grace demurred, "and besides, I've got to get ready. I'm leaving early to do some shopping on the way."
"Okay, honey, I'll let you go, I just stopped by for a second anyway, but I'll be back later on if you feel like talking."
"Thanks, Wanda. I appreciate you caring so much."
* * *
As it was, Grace arrived at the studio late. When she followed Angus Leech into the apartment, she was astonished to find that it had been radically changed. It was no longer the modest setting she had seen the previous day. There was a plethora of tropical plants, vines trailing down the walls, rocks, and a kind of artificial mossy grass covering the floor. There was a plastic surfaced imitation of a pool, where the bed had been yesterday. In all, the room resembled a jungle glen out of a fairytale world.
"Are you impressed?" Angus Leech asked.
"Yes, but what does it mean?" Grace frowned.
"It's today's theme, the setting for your return to nature from frustrating domesticity. You'll see. You'll be assisted by Millie today. She's already aware of the nature of today's sequence, so please listen to her."
Millie's entrance punctuated Angus Leech's statement. She was dressed in what appeared to be an authentic leopard skin sarong, her breasts and thighs jiggling piquantly as she walked. She flashed the same all knowing smile at Grace.
"Angus, if you'll call in the others and get the performers..." Millie suggested. Nodding, Angus left the room and returned instantly with the same familiar cameramen and two large black goats at the ends of dual leashes. The men stationed the cameras in front of a great boulder with a hollowed out cup large enough to seat a human figure. It seemed to be made of plaster and was tapered down from the peak of what could be used as a back rest, into two furrows about eighteen inches above and on either side of the seat. The edifice piqued Grace's curiosity, and she moved closer to inspect it.
"That's right, Mrs. Benton." Millie said, "Just sit down there on the rock and watch." Millie then led one of the goats to a spot about two feet away from Grace, unsnapped the leash from its collar, and indicated to Angus that she was ready.
"Start the cameras," Leech bawled, plopping down in a canvas chair between the cameras.
Grace watched the blonde girl's face, assume a primitive look as she petted the billy goat's flanks and slowly knelt by its hindquarters. Still stroking the animal, her long fingers creeping carefully toward the underside of its stomach, Millie spoke gently in a tongue the beast seemed to understand. He bleated and stepped up to the rock, rearing to place his forefeet alongside Grace's thighs. Millie moved with the goat, then sat and scooted under him on her buttocks, her legs straddling the dark shinny hooves that supported his haunches. Grace's heart throbbed crazily as she watched the blonde's hand take hold of the goat's hairy sheath and begin to milk it with lewd authority. She saw the creature respond, his natural lust kinkling and jerking his muscles to life. His dark pink prick began to emerge from the black outer casing, watery jets of fluid arching out and onto Millie's cheeks and shoulders. Millie skinned back the humping cock and grasped it with both hands until Grace beheld the smooth rubbery head on the staff, at its visible base, surging toward the shameless girl's lips.
"Blow the bastard ... suck it!" Leech erupted from behind the floodlights.
Millie flinched and then opened her lips for the lunging column, fighting to guide it into her accommodating mouth. After one abortive attempt, she managed to suck the long tapered animal cock in, her lips sucking him with all the vigor of a human lover. Grace hardly dared to breathe! She felt as though she had been caught in the act of some crime when the enormity not only of what she was witnessing, but because she was witnessing it, struck her. It was just as if she were an accessory, her very silence an agreement to help foster this undeniably unnatural sexual act.
"He's going to cum and soon..." Millie gasped, coming up for a gulp of air. The cock banged harder into her throat when she resumed her wild sucking motion. It seemed that the girl wanted nothing else in the world but to please the animal whose testicles dangled and slapped against her throat with an obscene but steady cadence.
A strange masochistic hotness seethed in Grace as the goat picked up his pace and tried to gag the girl below her. She could sense the load building, the animal's sperm rallying in his balls, and then found herself wishing it were in her. Then suddenly, a slushy swallowing sound came from Millie, and she locked her hands hard around the animal's humping buttocks, pulling him forward and deeper into her mouth. He shivered and poked himself into Millie like a maniac. She choked and swallowed frantically as the goat's boiling cream exploded into her. Grace uttered a little cry as she saw the girl's cheeks fill and empty, fill and empty, thick strings of cum slavering obscenely down her chin and onto the girl's hard breasts.
"Get it! Get it!" Leech screeched. "A close up ... get a shot of that cum!"
Incited by his enthusiasm, Millie purposely dribbled more of the milky liquid from her lips and ran her slithery tongue over the oozing distended hole at the tip of the animal's cock.
"It's your turn now," Millie whispered up to Grace as the goat stumbled away. "Yours is the fresh one, with a fresh load, and all you've got to do is spread your legs and get the wildest fuck of your life!"
Grace Benton's eyes skittered uncertainly across the room to where the other animal was standing in a corner by the door. A moment later, as Millie led the large black goat up to the boulder. Grace could see that he was taller and much stockier than the other one. She watched the beast with increasing inner excitement and felt a new tenseness in the soft fold of her pussy.
Then, with the same agility and cooperation that the first goat had shown, this one grunted and also reared to place his feet On either side of Grace's nearly supine torso, but higher, this time alongside her shoulders in the scooped out furrows. Once again, Millie knelt down and began to manipulate the thick hairy sheath, her long delicate fingers stimulating the animal almost immediately. His moist inner shaft appeared within seconds and was solid and long, already flexing and spurting streams of thin burning liquid on Grace's spread inner thighs.
Millie nudged the goat forward a step and leaned against Grace's left leg, opening the helpless girl's groin even further, then with the experienced fingers of one hand, parted the lips of Grace's pussy to reveal-the juicy palpitating entrance to her hidden secrets. With her other hand, she helped the goat's flailing cock find a beginning purchase in the cavern, and stepped back. Grace groaned unashamedly as the brute's hardened animal member drove tempestuously into her, his balls beating with a weighty rhythm against her exposed rectum. She began to claw and pull the flanks closer, her own open vaginal slit lashing out to meet his lewd assault. She reached far down and clutched his swinging sacs gently, turning her face sideways to avoid the creature's lolling tongue.
The cock throbbed almost painfully inside her and felt as if it were charged with a thousand needle sharp volts, and now she was crying and tossing even more wantonly, her beautiful face blotched pink with ecstasy, her eyes closed, head rolling, her lungs afire as she gyrated in a wild circling motion.
"Fuck! Fuck hard, you bitch ... up in your belly!" Angus Leech chanted, a faraway gleam in his eyes, his right hand jerking up and down the length of his own naked penis with a frenzy.
Grace felt the first delicious torrents of the goat's scorching white sperm splutter into the depths of her cunt. It surged into her like a volcanic outburst, violently, warming her groin and touching off her own climax with a mind shattering pleasure. All her feelings of humiliation and fear went up in the smoke of her cumming. She was not even aware of the others watching her, filming her indecent subjugation, her face registering lurid delight as she sucked with her inner muscles to absorb the last dregs of the black goat's hot scalding sperm.
She sighed as he pulled out of her with a rushing, sodden sound and pivoted on his hind feet to land on the floor. She was covered with her own sweat, consumed by fatigue. A fleeing sense of loss came over her as she watched the departing animal's limp penis disappear into the hidden sheath. She stared at him for a long time, her vision still glazed with dwindling passion, but the ugliness of reality was returning, bringing with it dishonor and strong waves of dread at the thought of facing the others. She rose quickly and snatched up the tiger skin she had discarded while the blonde had been sucking off the first goat. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Angus and the others observing her, still showing traces of sexual intoxication in their expressions. My God! She thought, how much further must she sink into filth before they were satisfied?
But Leech had turned his attention to the photograph equipment again, and Millie was occupied with the goats, fastening the leashes to their studded collars.
"If that's all for today, Mr. Leech, I'd like to finish dressing and leave. . . " She lingered a moment, expecting him to ask Millie to fetch her money. But no one spoke or seemed to acknowledge her presence. Finally, Angus faced her and shrugged his shoulders. "Okay, Grace, go. We're not keeping you."
"But, I haven't been paid. You said yesterday that there would be a bonus."
"Now, now," Leech returned sarcastically, "You've had your bonus, haven't you? It's not every afternoon that a simple housewife is fucked to her hearts content by such a grand animal as you've enjoyed." Winking he once more applied himself to the cameras. Grace's body trembled with rage and confusion that she had been so hatefully duped. Tears filled her eyes and ran in rivulets down her flaming cheeks. "No, no!" she wept. "You can't just use me and ... and cheat me! I'm only doing this for money!"
His voice mellowing, Leech strode over to the distraught girl and put his arms around her. "Oh Grace, I was merely testing you. Of course you'll be paid, and handsomely, for your work today. Millie, please get the envelope. It's in the usual place."
Calmed by his mollifications, Grace dressed and waited by the exit to the waiting room, her posture slack as she witnessed the removal of the jungle props from the room.
"In case you're wondering, we're shooting phase three of a series of still shots this evening. There's a staggering demand for our material. We have to work far into the night sometimes, to keep up and then too, to fit in the schedules of some of our part time models."
Then, Millie breezed in, now fully dressed and immaculately made-up and gave the pay envelope to Grace.
"Don't plan on being here tomorrow, honey. We're flying to the big city to have a batch of film processed and distributed. So take, it easy and think over what you'll do with all your money. Maybe you would want to buy some livestock with it," she chuckled.
"Never mind Millie," Leech sighed, his eyebrows arching to simulate his heavy burden of suffering," she's wonderfully efficient, but she's lacking in grace and discretion."
Grace forced a smile and put the envelope into her purse. She wanted to run away, to disappear in thin air, and yet to somehow retain her bizarre new life, its adventure and danger and oddly rewarding its shame fullness.
"Shall I come day after tomorrow, then?" she asked humbly.
"Just follow the instructions that are in the envelope, dear," Leech answered, his tone still smooth but implying that he was anxious to get back to his work. "We'll be seeing you then."
As Grace stood waiting for the elevator to come to rest on the ground floor, she felt another gush of sticky substance dampening the crotch of her panties. The thought crossed her mind of what a shameful thing she was doing and what if Richard ever found out about it. Oh well, she was making all that money, and he shouldn't ever learn about it. She would merely tell him later that she had been doing some work at home ... something like addressing envelopes or telephoning for some business firm.
* * *
Grace Benton sat with her legs crossed under a huge eiderdown, the editorial page of the local newspaper spread out on the table in front of her. She had tried several times to read it, because she wanted to read up on all of the news so she could discuss it with Richard. But today she found herself unable to concentrate at all. Instead, her mind buzzed with questions and dreams of what she would do with all the money she was earning. Again, she was wondering how she could account to Richard where and how she had gotten over sixteen hundred dollars in her possession. She had neglected to consider this point when she began her new job and if she didn't handle it correctly it could very well jeopardize their chance for happiness and security. In fact it could become a horrible nightmare and maybe end in divorce. Perhaps, Wanda would have some solution.
Determined to ask her neighbor's advice, she threw off the fluffy quilt and went downstairs to get her raincoat from the hall closet. Stopping in front of the mirror by the front door, and fluffed her hair and checked to see if she needed any lipstick. What she saw in the reflection made her pause. Her face was drawn and there were the beginnings of dark circles under her eyes, yet there was also a newness, an almost succulent, mysterious quality in her young features. She looked more than ever like a real woman, a woman with experience, a background and a woman with a story to tell.
The short jaunt next door had been enough to get her completely wet. It was pouring down rain and her feet and the front of her dress were soaked, making her full breasts stand out against the damp material.
"Honey, honey, come on in! Good grief, you're sopping wet!" Wanda remonstrated as she helped Grace free her arms from the raincoat. "Why didn't you button your coat up before you left?"
"I thought I'd make a mad dash for it. I had no idea that it was raining this hard.
"Well, let's get some coffee down you. Hollie is here, and dry I might add. We'll all have a nice chat and catch upon the latest news," Wanda said merrily. "Hollie, Grace's here and is soaking! Go into the bar and get some bourbon for this poor lamb's coffee."
"That would be nice," Grace giggled.
When the three women had pulled their chairs up to the living room fireplace, Grace was thankful that Tom had acted upon Wanda's nagging suggestions that a roaring fire would keep her company while he was on the road. The yellow and blue flames licking upwards were comforting, and peaceful. Also, the spiked coffee warmed and lulled her stomach like a tender caress.
"Hey, tell us what's been going on at Mr.
Leech's studio," Hollie said with obvious eagerness.
Wanda's face clouded as she gave the buxom girl a reproving glance. "She'll tell you when she's ready and not before."
"Oh, that's all right," Grace said. "Actually, we're filming a series, a thing involving nature subjects, about an American housewife's return to nature. That type of thing."
"Animal's too?" Hollie asked.
"Well, yes, animals too."
"I think I'm beginning to get the drift," Wanda said slyly. "Knowing Angus, I can imagine what you've been up to. Did you enjoy it?"
"It's, just work, Wanda. Whether it's fun or not doesn't enter into it." Grace hesitated, then went on boldly. "I've learned a lot about myself and what makes me tick, so it's been more rewarding than fun." She shifted in her chair, her eyes narrowing to slits as she leaned closer to them, her manner one of great confidence.
The generous portion of bourbon in her coffee was having its effect on her. "Yesterday I learned that sexual desire isn't really desire, but stimulation. A woman reacts to almost anything man or beast, if she is properly introduced to it ... Angus . ... "
"Angus taught you!" Wanda blurted out. "He taught you how to look upon your body as an instrument of pleasure."
"Of pleasure!" Hollie shouted, her own volume shocking her. "But surely you and Richard ... surely you get enough ... uh ... pleasure at home with your own husband, with Richard and uh ... being married and all."
"Oh shit, Hollie," Wanda said with boredom, "Can't you just once, forget your dismally sexless ideas and listen to reason? It's no damned wonder the women in the neighborhood pity you, being twenty-two and still a virgin ... Goddammit! Go get yourself laid and I'll bet you will be less tiresome and be happier."
"Wanda!" Grace cried, "She doesn't know. She's not married. You had no right, she is just out of her teens!"
"Grace, please, let's go," Hollie pleaded heart-broken, tears streaming down her face.
"Well, I guess we had better. Come on honey," Grace said as she held the crying girl and at the same time negotiated Hollie's arms into the sleeves of her yellow slicker. "You understand, don't you, Wanda? We'll talk it over later. She is just too upset now."
"Yeah, upset. That's what I was talking about," Wanda agreed. "Tell her I'm sorry, though I was out of line to talk to her like that."
Grace got into her own raincoat, shivering as she cast a smile of understanding to Wanda, then took Hollie's hand and prepared for the sprint across the mud puddles to Grace's house.
At home, Grace settled Hollie at the kitchen table and began a frank explanation of Wanda's attack. "You shouldn't mind Wanda, you know. She's awfully liberal and hasn't any patience with anyone who isn't the same way."
"You're saying that I'm a prude, that's it, isn't it? Oh, Grace, you don't know. All my life I've had a stigma and I am so ashamed of myself," she said pointing to her huge full breasts. "And I can't cope with it. Do they really talk about me like that?"
"Oh, Hollie," Grace comforted, reaching out to pat the girl and ward off another outburst of tears.
"Grace, do they ... my friends ... the women, do they really pity me?"
"Not really. They're concerned, just as I am. But I know what you feel. I've gone through the very same thing and now for the first time in my life, I'm discovering myself, what I am and what my husband means to me."
"You're so lucky, having Richard, a home, and such an exciting job."
Hollie's last remark sparked an incredible thought in Grace's mind. Why not Hollie? Why not introduce her to Angus and pave the way to a thrilling future, a self sufficiency and pride in herself that the girl had never envisioned? Angus would doubtless consider Hollie's endowments a boom to himself and his business. And he might even allow the girl to work with her. That would tend to save her own conscience as well as provide a less humiliating easement for Hollie into the role she would have fill later in life.
"Hollie, you may be offended by this question, but trust me when I say I'm asking you for your own good. Are you still a virgin?"
The full busomed young girl flinched and sat straight up in her chair her face flushed a deep red. Immediately, Grace felt vile and cruel for daring to ask the innocent girl so personal a question, but relaxed when she sensed resignation flow over Hollie's features and throughout her body.
"This will probably surprise you, Grace, but no. I've been touched, by of all people ... my own father! He raped me when I was fourteen and I've never been able to live it down. Oh, how I have ached to tell someone! Her gaze fell to her feet as the horrible memory assailed her again with all its brutal force and detail.
Hollie sat in silence for what seemed an eternity, overcome once more by the terrible sense of sin she had been trying to ignore for years, since that awful day, now reviving in her like a chronic disease that not even time could heal. She remembered her mother, the perky little puritan, who held an unyielding belief that the sole function and purpose of sexual behavior and intercourse was soley procreation. Her father, a stubborn, hard drinking, rogue, who had one day taken her like a common whore on the bed in her mother's room. He had even offered her money to keep quiet afterwards. Then, she had joined the church and become active in social affairs, in the choir, anything to make up for her guilt and keep out of range of all men. Men, she was convinced, were hellish beasts intent on using her plush body to satiate themselves.
"Hollie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry into your past. I merely wanted to help you." Grace regretted what had previously been her catty, uncharitable attitude toward the tortured girl. Rising, she filled their coffee cups, racking her brain for a diplomatic way to introduce the subject of Angus Leech.
Solving the problem, Hollie continued. "If only I could do something useful, like you, and maybe meet the right man. Someone who was wise and capable, someone to help me work out my fears and help me to be a human being again."
"I might be able to arrange an interview with Mr. Leech," Grace said tentatively, her eyes searching Hollie's face for some kind of a reaction. "One thing I can promise, you'll meet some men. But I'm not scheduled to see him again until tomorrow."
"Oh, Grace, could you!" Asked Hollie, a burst of gaiety lighting her usually sad eyes. "I'd be so grateful to you!"
"I'll work out something, don't worry."
Later, after Hollie had left, Grace felt like a wicked demon for having encouraged her to meet Angus Leech and begin what would surely be the most traumatic phase of her life. And yet, why not?" Hollie was single, lonely, anxious to work out her problems and have what Wanda so often called, "fun".
* * *
That days filming at the studio had been nothing compared to the first day. Grace had simply been asked to undress and pose alone in the nude. For that matter, she had surprisingly enjoyed striking the provocative poses Leech wanted for a series of still shots. Nor had she been upset when her employer staged her holding a rubber replica of a fat snake inches from her vagina. Only the close-ups of her widespread pubic region had seemed improper and debasing to her. Grace had also been directed to sit on a dark green easy chair with her legs spread wide apart as she squeezed her thrusting ivory breasts tightly together in a gesture of offering to the cameras.
She had mentioned Hollie to Angus Leech, assuring him that he would be quite pleased with the girl's ripe figure and willingness to further the case of social enlightenment. Would he be willing to give her young neighbor a try?
Leech had been more than interested, especially when he heard her candid description of Hollie's large breasts, and remarked that he had been contemplating having a party anyway, particularly since his trip to the city had been so profitable. Then, in his charming, bewitching manner, he had made a generous offer to sponsor a-party at her house. That way, he explained, he would casually meet Hollie and provide his "associates" with some distraction. Would tonight be too soon to have it? Grace thought for a minute, worrying about Richard's response to such an idea, then finally she said it would be fine with her.
Having enlisted Wanda's aid in the preparation of imagine dishes, for a buffet, she was rereading the guest list to determine if she had forgotten to invite anyone. Leech had said he would handle invitations to his friends and had included enough extra money in the envelope to pay for a spectacular shindig. Richard had not been overjoyed when she breached the subject over the phone, but had finally agreed when she swore that "one of Wanda's friends" were footing the bill. Lying, she had gone on to say that the friend's apartment was inadequate to handle forty people, and that Wanda had begged her to ask him if it would be all right. Wanda had complied with the white lie and promised to back her all the way. And Hollie had sounded all excited and passionately anxious to meet the famous Angus Leech.
Still, though, Grace would not shake loose the feeling that her intervention on Hollie's behalf might turn out to be a huge disaster. She struggled with the notion that she had no moral right to steer the naive young girl into a situation that could expose her to more shame and compromising depravity than she had known at the hands of her lust driven brute of a father. But the girl had faced reality, just as she had less than one week ago. Grace rationalized, tossing off her doubts as she began to think what she would wear that evening. It had to be something exciting. The hell with Richard and his old fashioned tastes!
Grace Benton experienced a tremorous thrill as she recalled Leech's saying that Irish would be coming. She grappled with the feeling, arguing to herself that the boisterous man was cruel and quite obviously self indulgent. She remembered with coarse unwanted delight how he had used her prostate body, obediently following Leech's demands and taking turns with the other man as they had plied her defenseless bodily openings to satisfy their own selfish sexual needs. Also, Leech had cautioned her, Millie would be there, wearing a "special" costume, and would be more than willing to help serve drinks and "entertain". .
"Grace, where are you?"
"In here, Wanda in the bathroom. Come on in."
"Wow, what are you going in here, fully dressed and with the telephone too?"
"I know it's silly," Grace laughed. "It's just that I've been doing a lot of thinking in bathrooms since I've grown up. It's easier somehow. But hey, what's the matter? I thought you'd be home whipping up gallons of intriguing food and making ready to seduce every male in sight."
"Don't trouble yourself about my outfit for tonight. Believe me I'll mange, baby. As for the food, things they're ready and waiting. I just came over to add an extra something to the punch we made."
Holding up three bottles filled with thick green liquid she said, "It's some stuff that Tom was lucky enough to buy from one of his hornier clients. Just blend it with the other stuff. I can guarantee its beneficial effects, that it'll make everyone happier, and a helluva lot looser, and less like Richard, who'll probably waste the whole evening just talking and frowning."
"Gee, thanks, I'll mix it in, if you're really certain that it's all right. But please, come a little early, won't you? I'm altogether too rattled to think of everything myself tonight. Do you know, that in all the three years we've been married, this will be the first big party we've had?"
"Yes, but don't you worry. I'll help set up things for you. Just don't forget the green stuff that's all. And you'd better do it when your nervous husband's not watching, lest he decide to pour it out to protect his chastity."
CHAPTER FOUR
The party had already fulfilled Grace's wildest expectations. People were eating, drinking, lavishing compliments on her for her imagination in bringing together such an interesting group. A band that Angus had hired was in the living room, drinking and chatting freely with the guest between numbers. In the kitchen, between the breakfast table and the refrigerator, Irish stood swaying, nominating everyone in sight as a potential candidate for a role in some howlingly funny movie plot he had dreamt up to charm anyone who would listen to him. Hardly anyone paid attention, though, which little daunted him, and he pursued the farce with real authority and spirit. Grace promised herself that she would draw aside her drunken colleague, and persuade him to be ribald and more a friendly contributor to the genial atmosphere of the party. Then, wandering back into the living room, Grace checked a cry when she saw Millie serving cocktails in her special hostess costume.
The languid blonde wore only a skimpy short skirt, very high heels, and nothing above that! Her snowly breasts jiggled and jumped as she moved casually from person to person, bending over to thrust her cherry tipped nipples in the face of those who held out only half empty glasses to be refilled.
Grace quickly ran through the guest list in her mind, terrified that Richard's boss and several of his coworkers would be insulted and thwart him when he applied for the advance in the position he wanted. Then, coming to the rescue, Leech rose from a dark corner and announced, "The young lady you see refilling your glasses is my most valuable employee. Her key function in life is to please. If anyone had the profoundly bad taste to disagree, pity the person," said the slightly tight director. Then added, to enforce his admonishment, "My precious Millie can't tolerate men without push enough to assert themselves as men."
A cheer went up from everyone, including Richard's co-workers. Wanda regarded Leech through slitted eyes, inhaling the brazen hussy's cheap perfume with disgust as her glass was replenished with the potent drink. Her roving gaze met Richard's and seemed to meld with an unspoken rapport as they condemned the girl and the speech with their eyes. Richard lifted himself from the wall he had been leaning against and crossed the room to squeeze down on the couch beside Wanda. He could not help but notice his sexy neighbor's low cut neckline. Her dress, a clinging velvet model that hugged her slim erotic thighs like an extra skin. He rebuked himself for thanking the circumstances that kept Tom away from home so much.
"Richard, love, I think you're having a bit of fun for a change, if it's not a mirage," Wanda said coyly, her voice throaty and suggestive, a flirting gleam in her eyes.
"Can't complain," Richard countered with unusual boldness. "But who's that half naked woman, the racy waitress your friend Leech has been praising? Damned if I'd mind getting her into the sack myself! She's beautiful. And so are you if you don't mind my saying so. No kidding, you are!"
"Well, well, well," Wanda purred as she stretched lazily to show off her lithe form to its best advantage. "Now what would your sweet little wife say if she heard you carrying on like this?"
"Nothing, not a damned thing! Grace's too shallow to know about these matters. But you, you're different. I'd bet a days pay that you're aren't a bit like her." Richard downed the remainder of his drink to climax as well as excuse the rashness of his blunt statement.
"You will never know at the rate you've been going," Wanda taunted while she looked cursorily about the room, satisfying herself that no one was aware of what was happening between them. Only Rita Martin had been watching, but turned briskly away to endorse what seemed to her a promising intimacy in the making.
Richard leaned closer to Wanda and, taking her off guard, planted a wet passionate kiss on her mouth. After the initial shock, that her neighbor's abnormally pure husband would venture such an act, Wanda returned his kiss, pressing her luxurious body against him with an urgency and boldness that would surely frighten him back to the safety of his servile little wife. Wanda thought how fun it might be to tempt this proper, self righteous, half-man, half-mouse to try something with her. After all, he had had three or more drinks already, enough, she decided, to spark his manhood into action, if he had any!
Richard,Benton seemed to sense Wanda's sudden availability. He pressed forward to kiss her again, this time allowing his free hand to rove tentatively along her slim shoulders and down daringly close to the exposed upper expanse of her full, rounded breasts. A chill and pleasant warmth passed through her, and she squirmed her beautifully rounded buttocks deeper into the cushion and tighter against his slim male hip. Her panties were dampening with the wetness of sexual arousal, and she squeezed her thighs together in a vain attempt to check the tingling sensations beginning to grow down there. She was on dangerous ground, and knew it, but felt certain that she could tackle just about anything the poor idiot might do.
"Why don't we go somewhere, anywhere, out of the living room?" Richard proposed huskily. Wanda felt the hardness of his penis drilling into her thigh, a sure sign that her game was working.
"Of course, Richard, why don't we talk in the bedroom?" She lowered her head, smirking to herself and reveling in her power to taunt and control him, to push the game to its limit, a hair breath this side of danger, and prove beyond a doubt her mastery in using him at will.
"That's a great idea," Richard decided, taking her hand and resolutely clearing a path for them as they cut through the milling crowd of guests in the hallway and crossing in front of them from room to room. Wanda was positive that at any second he would turn sheepishly and say, "Okay, okay, you've bluffed me out," so she followed him with an attitude of docility as she planned a new strategy to further her superiority of him. "Would you like to pick up a couple of those drinks on the way?" Richard asked, detouring into the kitchen without waiting for her approval.
"Go ahead, if you need courage. I'm fine myself," Wanda deliberately teased him. She sidled up to him, her arms folded into her chest in an imitation of sweetness, while with the toe of her shoe she sawed suggestively at Richard's calf.
"You're hot, aren't you neighbor lady? But maybe it's all fake, you know, the liberated woman out to get her share of the goodies too. Am I right?"
"Maybe, maybe, you're right. But how would you know, one way or the other?"
She pressured, more than ever enjoying his discomfort and the fact that he stood with his back to the others to shield the thrusting erection showing in his slacks.
"Try me," Richard braved. Then, taking her hand more possessively than before, he practically jerked her off her feet to lead her again into the crowded corridor leading to the stairs and the bedroom.
He is actually going to take me in there, Wanda thought with amusement, but watch him run like a scared rabbit when I come on a little. Only the ebb and flow of a quivering pulse of anticipation, a feeling not part of the game, troubled her, as Richard pulled her into the bedroom. Her feeling of power lessened when he closed and locked the door, stripping off his jacket as he adjusted the little lamps on the night stands, on either side of the head of the bed, to a softer light. Then, he wordlessly crushed her to him, almost painfully grinding his mouth on hers, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and greedily sucking at hers.
Wanda shuddered from the stimulation that being involved in something forbidden gives a person, despite her fondness and the ironic kind of loyalty she felt for Grace. She still was not threatened and believed that she was capable any time of putting his hot breathed immature man in his proper place. She sighed as though unmoved and at the end of tolerating his increasingly reckless caresses. She walked easily to the bed, her casualness designed to insult him with indifference. But Richard misunderstood her intention and immediately stretched out beside her. Her act had been to him one of consent, a shameless invitation to touch and fondle her as much as he wanted to. He was raging inside, his cock beating with every breath, his balls nestling like rocks ready to erupt their load into her.
Wanda gasped at the change coming over her as he worked his trembling eager hand up under her clinging dress and gently petted her soft inner thighs. She felt tiny delicious contractions in the tiny bud of her clitoris and began gradually to give way to the wild incoherent emotions shooting relentlessly through her yearning body.
Richard's agitation was building higher and hotter, urging him to rotate and press his seething loins cruelly against hers, while his shaking hand tore at the soft material covering her full rope breasts. Freeing them at last, he shoved himself fully upon her and nibbled and bit her hard brown nipples until the slim girl groaned and writhed, her own hands circling one tip at a time to form a taut mound to make it more available to Richard's mouth. Sucking and biting at her, he ripped open his pants and kicked them free from his body. Then he placed his hand under her undulating back, lifting her an inch or so as he slipped her already disheveled dress up to the inhibiting mounds he had just stopped sucking.
"God, are you really going to? Really?" she moaned, choking on the thickness of her own lusting emotions.
To show her he really was, Richard lifted her dress off her head and still kneading her heaving breasts, dragged her sheer, nylon panties down over her hips to her knees. His body lurched ahead, his hairy male body covering her from head to toe, and then he placed his own knees inside hers and forced them widely apart. With an inhuman cry, she kicked her legs back and forth lasciviously, bending back her legs impossibly to accommodate the rigid cock about to fuck into her and stretch her warm pulsating cuntal passage beyond her wildest dreams.
God almighty, it was a big one! And to think, that to her, Richard had seemed such a helpless little boy! He sensed that there was not one iota of resistance left in her and pushed the thick elastic head of his cock against the sensitive moist lips of her open pussy. She was pinned to the mattress under his weight. The scalding hot throb in her stomach screamed for release from its agonies. Nothing mattered to her now but to swallow the entire length of his throbbing penis into her moist vagina.
"Oh please," she moaned, her voice rising to a shriek, "Fuck me, fuck me with your cock! Hurry!"
Richard's mouth twisted into a crazy smile as he ground his pelvis up to her buttocks and with one merciless lunge parted the soft pubic hair and plunged into her hungry cunt. Inch by inch, he buried himself deeper into her tightly clasping vaginal cavity, until at last she had accepted all of his hard, throbbing male organ up to the hilt. Low hums of pleasurable servile abandon came in torrents from deep in her throat. Her face was contorted with lust, with her nostrils flaring and a light sweat beading her forehead and Wanda was wild with a passion she had never believed possible with this man. Richard was some lover!
The wet sucking sound of their union joined in harmony with the smack of his sperm filled balls against her nakedly unprotected anus. He slaved above her, occasionally changing his rhythm from short fast penetrations to long smooth strokes that brought his huge cock almost all the way out of her clasping vagina on the backstroke and then in again until she could feel his pelvic bone crunching on her.
He grinned again, thinking to himself of the beautiful humiliation she would feel as he slipped his hand under her smooth satiny buttocks and worked a finger back and forth across her defensively puckered anus. It was delicate and warm, and he would feel it bucking away from his touch as she ground wildly up against his loins. His passion out of control, he jammed into the tender rubbery flesh of her hair-lined pussy with two fingers.
"God, Noooooo!" she moaned, her hips involuntarily leaping upwards to escape the painful intrusion into her rectum, yet serving only to drive Richard's gigantic penis further into her than before. Then he plunged his fingers still deeper, spreading them to widen even more the no longer virginal nether throat of her straining rectum.
Slowly, Wanda's whimpering protestations subsided and changed gradually to cries of excitement as her anus became accustomed to the strange invasion. She was impaled like a slave between his thick cock slamming into her ravaged vagina and his two fingers worming salaciously into her obscenely stretched anal passage.
Wanda's gorgeous face was unrecognizable, a mask of feature contorting animal joy and he felt satisfaction in taking her like this ... off her high horse, while he fucked her with the hardened cock she had seemed to be dying for since he had known her. He quickened his strokes, burning and throbbing and deep, as she thrashed now beneath him like a dog. She was close now, he could feel it coursing deep in her belly and along her wide spread thighs. Her breasts were rosy and firm under his jerking weight, the erect nipples being crushed against his muscular chest.
"Oh God! Oh Christ! I'm making it, I'm cumming, cummmmmming!" Wanda shivered and began to flail under him, her skewered cunt throbbing and opening like a tiny fishes mouth around his plunging cock. He banged harder and faster, smashing between her flailing legs like a berserk man. His own orgasm had arrived like a deluge of unexpected lava trying to escape all at once through the small aperture at the tip of his swelling cock. He arched his back and delivered one hard desperate thrust to spill his milky white seminal fluid far up into her belly. Their juices mixed inside, a pool of sticky hot cum.
"That was wonderful! Wonderful!" Wanda said, her words made unclear by her gasping breath. Her legs had fallen limp on either side of his still heaving body. She was totally exhausted but strangely she was fulfilled as she had never been before but finally remembering where she was and that it was her best friends husband who had just made love to her. He continued to move the fingers in her rectum just enough to make her grind down against them, and she hoped he would keep them trapped there for a few more moments. Wondering how long they had been away from the party, she tapped him on the shoulder and said, "I think it's about time we got out of here and joined the others, d.on't you?"
"I guess I'd better disengage myself first, unless you're up to trotting in there all plugged up," Richard straightened up on his knees, still bending his upper torso over her while he withdrew his fingers from her rectum. Then, he pulled his deflating penis slowly out of Wanda's open wet pussy with a whooshing sound, and a cool rush of air filled her where he had worked them both to a thrilling climax a moment before.
"If this always happens when you have a party, Richard, I think you should have them more often," she said while preparing herself to meet the crowd of people outside the bedroom door.
"You know, we don't have to wait for a party to do this? Grace has no idea about us. Besides, I've heard through Hollie that Grace has some kind of afternoon job and she would never find out. I could take my lunch hour around two o'clock and we..."
"And you'd sneak home for a quickie with old Wanda, is that what you want to say? Well, you never can tell, I just might get horny again. But I doubt it, not after this, not for a while anyway."
Satisfied that they both looked presentable they left the bedroom and tried to blend inconspicuously into the guests again. They had no trouble because everyone was drinking the punch freely and the band was playing some heavy rock music drowning out most of the voices.
Grace spied Wanda and hurried over to her. "Thank heavens, here you are! I've been looking all over for you. I need you to help me meet the emergencies! The first thing," Grace sighed, "we're running out of punch. Not that they need another drop! God! You should see them, undressing in front of the group, peering down dresses and talking as though filthy language were in vogue. What shall I do!
"It's a party isn't it, honey? Let them get their kicks." Wanda winked, "As for the booze, send out for more and in the meantime, I'll try to think up some lie to explain stealing the last two bottles of Tom's reserve, the chache he thinks I don't know anything about. See you in a minute."
Grace braced herself and retreated to the bedroom to telephone the liquor store, checking the money in her bra with a reassuring pat. When she burst into the bedroom and flicked on the light, she jumped in fright at the sight of Rita Martin and Irish both naked and slamming obscenely against each other on the bed.
"Oh dear, excuse me! I wanted to use the telephone to call for more liquor ... we are out ... Oh, I am sorry!" Grace said, tears of embarrassment in her eyes.
"Hell, lady, don't worry a bit," Irish said without missing a single stroke of his spearing into Rita's willing vagina. "We're good friends ... maybe more, and throwing a good fuck into your nice neighbor here is the best way in the world to introduce us."
Grace started to say something else but decided not to when she saw him begin another attack of punishing thrusts into the groaning and twisting Rita.
A few feet out of the door, she ran headlong into Angus Leech. He seemed more sober, more his handsome, deceitful self, although she saw that his lips were pursed in an odd smile, unusual even for him. He seemed to be inflamed by the activity around him, even drugged by it.
"Dear, you beautiful thing, where's this super young girl you've told me about? Go and get her at once!" Despite Leech's feigned imperiousness, Grace noticed a tone of wrought up sincerity in his voice.
"Gosh, Angus, I've been too busy in the kitchen to keep track of her, or anybody for that matter. But just as soon as I take care of getting a new supply of liquor, I'll find her and introduce you. By the way, have you seen my husband, Richard?"
Before Angus Leech could answer, Richard approached them, his manner of walking was certain proof that he was slightly more than tight. In fact, he was on the verge of being stone drunk. Her heart fell when she realized his condition, there was no way he could possibly drive to the liquor store with her.
"Whass matter, honey?" He managed to slur through thick lips, the very effort of speaking causing him to momentarily lose his balance. "All 'us wanta 'nother drink ... and here ya are juss talkin'. . . "
Coming to the rescue again, Angus broke in with a suggestion. "By God, I'm thirsty too! So why don't I send one of my staff to buy the ingredients that goes into that lovely punch that you make, Grace?"
"Oh thank you, Angus." Grace smiled, her glance darting to Richard to determine if he had caught her using his first name. But Richard was too preoccupied with keeping his balance to perceive any familiarity between his wife and Angus Leech.
"Okay then, I'll be in the kitchen, when you can find someone to go," said Grace as she hurried off.
"Hmmmmmm, now where is that damn Irish?" Angus wondered aloud as he moved off to find him.
Moments later, Irish slapped Grace familiarly on the buttocks as he came into the kitchen. "Boss says I'm supposed to drive you to the store for more booze. Are you ready?" Although she knew he was drunk, was always drunk, she couldn't believe the clarity of his voice, the steadiness of his step as he escorted her down the steps to the front door. As they were leaving, Grace cringed at the sight of Richard stumbling drunkenly upstairs. His fly was open, his hair messy, and he looked like a wreck. As he climbed, he was lurching and weaving and she was instantly overcome with compassion for him.
"Richard, are you okay?" she asked tenderly.
"You're damn right, sweetie," the intoxicated man mumbled, straightening up to verify his statement.
"Oh, good, but why don't you go find Wanda and keep her company? We'll be back in a few minutes, we're just going to the liquor store. See you later, darling."
Speeding up the block in the sports car, Grace sighed in relief and turned to Irish who was at the wheel. "It might have been easier to give you the directions and avoid all the hell I'll get from my husband when I get home. I've never seen him this drunk before."
"I wouldn't worry about it one bit, honey. He's not as drunk as he is tired. I'd be the same way if I'd fucked that long legged gal in the sexy low cut dress like he did. Why..."
"What do you mean ... what 'gal' are you talking about?" Grace asked menacingly, the ominous tone of her voice surprising her as much as her companion. He did not reply but instead, tromped down on the accelerator, causing the powerful car to sink lower, then jump ahead with a boost of energy that threw Grace against the leather seat. Despite her consternation, the beautiful drone of the engine was music to her ears.
"You know that tall broad, your foxy neighbor ... she and your husband were awfully cozy in the living room before ... then they just disappeared into thin air." Irish was silent again, intent as he skidded the car around the corner that Grace had directed him to take. Again in perfect control, he continued. "You mean to say you're pissed because your safe little hubby gets a little on the side, uh? Shit, I'd screw that bitch myself, but I'm more interested in that young piece of tail with the fantastic boobs. What's her name?"
"Do you mean Hollie?" Grace said, barely audible.
"Yeah, that must be the one. Can you fix me up?"
"I doubt it, I doubt ... Oh ... I doubt everything!"
They drove on without speaking, each lost in their own thoughts.
CHAPTER FIVE
The guests were now grouping in little bunches, after having drunk more of the sexually exciting punch, and were beginning to seriously discuss and in some instances, explore one another's physical assets. Grace had located and introduced Hollie to Angus Leech, who was typically charming as usual, and confident as he guided the voluptuous girl through the swarm of excited guests toward a relatively unpeopled corner next to the living room window. It was the only place in the room where they might find some semblance of privacy.
"Before I say a word, let me at least tell you that I recognize your rare sort of sweetness, that you seem a she-devil and an angel at the same time. You can't imagine how grateful I am to Grace for introducing us." Breathing laboriously, he let his eyes roam ravenously on Hollie's throat, just above the ballooning bulge of her huge round breasts.
"I'm glad," she said shyly. The situation was embarrassing her, taking its toll on her composure. Her full breasts were rising, threatening to burst into view and endorse her discomfort, the womanhood she had tried to ignore and conceal. "Grace, my friend, has tried to help me face things, and she said you could teach me to help people and so..."
"And exploit your exquisite physical attributes," Angus finished. "I think you're quite able to help, except," he said pausing briefly, "for what experience warns me, must be a crippling ignorance on our part towards the truth and honesty among people." He inhaled slowly, to dramatize his point, and sipped slowly and thoughtfully on his drink, an almost defeated look on his face.
Unable to endure his implication, Hollie snatched up his glass and downed most of his potent cocktail in great gulps, the biting liquid making her gag and cough. Bravely, though, she tilted the glass up again, this time emptying its contents. A lovely glow came over her, centering mostly in her stomach but extending up along her ribs to her massive breasts. He watched her with delight as her expression softened, sweetening to innocence as though a benevolent spirit had entered her and touched her soul with some kind of magic. Nor did she object when he slipped his arm around her shoulder, drawing her up to him until her left breast was flattened against the side of his chest. She blushed slightly when squirming her buttocks deliciously to find a more comfortable position, the edge of the couch brushed electrically against the soft folds of her pussy lips, sending a sudden charge of warm pleasure up her vaginal opening and into the pit of her belly.
"Say," Hollie asked, "would you mind getting me another drink. I wouldn't mind having one all to myself. Thanks."
Angus started for the kitchen, anxious to have her try some more punch, it would suit him fine ... when he ran into one of the guests. He seemed to be a good friend and after talking for a moment they both moved off to another part of the house ... Hollie was chest fallen, thinking that Angus had lost interest in her. About the time she had thought of an excuse to leave the party, a man's voice cut into her thoughts.
"Here you go, drink this and it will cheer you up," Irish smiled, giving her a glass filled with the potent punch. "This is more practical having a big glass, than to keep running to the kitchen to fill up. I always find the biggest one around and then I can sit most of the evening without refills ... I was watching you from the other part of the room and saw Angus run out on you. Well, don't let it bother you one bit." Irish said and promptly made himself comfortable in the spot next to her that Angus had just vacated. The big man then thrust forward his own tall glass in the manner of a toast. "Let's drink to everlasting friendship, okay? That sounds as good as any toast, doesn't it?"
Hollie found herself liking this peculiarly handsome stranger, the carefree way he spoke and he tossed off his drink as though it were plain water. Yet, she also sensed an intelligent, highly emotional quality in his youthful but lined face.
"What do you do for a living?" she asked feeling she shouldn't have asked such an absurd question.
"Sure, you may. I make most of my money," he said in mock seriousness, "by being first, a gun runner, and then a mercenary in Africa, I've done some spying on the side, and oh, yes, I push drugs to the local school kids. My good points, hmmm, let's see ... I donate my time to helping young ladies and I've loaned a sizable fortune to one of the richest men in the country ... just to get him started in the business world and..."
"Stop! Oh please stop ... this instant!" Hollie giggled bursting with laughter at this insane man. Burying her face in his muscular shoulder to stifle her giggles, she reached up to muffle his mouth with her hand.
After their laughter was spent and neither of them had the strength left for more than an occasional snicker, they permitted their eyes to meet and found that there was something more serious there. The exotic drinks, combined with her new found friend's casualness and the erotic turn the party was taking around her, disposed the young girl to an attitude of all out adventure.
Smiling, she cuddled up to his muscular shoulder and pointed to the members of the small band who had taken off their shirts and were now playing independently among the guests in the room. Some of the prettier women were dancing by themselves, swaying suggestively to the primitive beat of the music.
Suddenly, Hollie turned to her companion and asked, "Hey! What's your name, anyway? How do I know that you're not really a spy?"
"Ah ha! I did forget, my name is Irish ... just Irish," he said, wrestling her in for a hug to reward his simple direct answer. She relaxed closer, her spectacular chest pressing firmly into his. Then he kissed her lingeringly on the mouth and then dropped one hand to rest warmly on her knee. She's a hot little girl, he thought, moving his hand carefully up to the hem on her skirt. He fully relaxed the arm around her shoulders while kissing her neck and draped his hand on the upper swell of her full breasts. The thought that he was going to really score with her excited him and he began to massage the tip of her breast with his fingertips.
She was not resisting at all. Instead, she seemed to regard this gesture almost as a casual thing, an understanding between them, and she drank her full glass of punch down slowly as he caressed her. While she seemed to be basking in his advances, he excused himself on the pretense of finding some more to drink, making his way through the crowd.
He was looking for Wanda and found her in the den that was adjacent to the kitchen. She was dancing with a skinny, older man who wore only a pair of red boxer shorts that were patterned with small white flowers. Her eyes were glazed, faraway, and she threw her hips forward as if aiming them directly toward the skinny man's pelvis.
"Wanda, can you spare a minute, I want to talk to you?" Irish broke into her dream world.
"Sure, big boy, what's on your mind. I think that I already know, but first I'd like you to meet Duke Boyd." She said. "This handsome man works with Richard and says he wants to 'roll me' a term I'm sure he learned years ago in school." Duke agreed with a drunken grin and advanced on Wanda, his cock causing his shorts to bulge in the front.
"Hang on a minute there, man, I'd like to see the lady here, alone, before your unprecedented sexiness bowls her off her feet." He grinned as he drug her to the nearest corner. "Jesus, are you that hard up? But listen, I'm going to fuck that sweet young gal with the big boobs, and I'm thinking this might be the best place right here. So, would you mind taking your big bull and screwing somewhere that poor little innocent girl can't see."
"What's in it for me," Wanda asked teasingly.
"Man, you've already fucked Grace's husband to a frazzle, and now you've got little imagine pants all hot and ready. Shit, lady, save something for the other girls here at this party."
Wanda smiled wickedly to herself as the broad shouldered man passed out of the room and into the kitchen, where he delayed long enough to find two more glasses to fill with punch. When he returned to the couch, Hollie was sitting just where he had left her. Now, however, her gestures and overall appearance indicated that she was even drunker and less than ever in control of herself. He took her hand and led her unsteadily to the kitchen and then into the dimly lit den. There, he gently urged her to sit with him on the floor. He handed her the two glasses to hold while he removed his jacket.
Hollie studied his face admiringly, cherishing his every move and wondering what such a clever, well built man, and gentle writer he had said, could possibly see in her. She must be in love, she decided, because no other man, real or imaginary, had so warmed and awakened her sensually. Her breasts pulsed in time with her heart beat, the nipples becoming unbearably hard and itching to be touched by him.
He kissed her again, almost too tenderly to fill her craving for his mouth. Then he kissed her again and again, each contact more demanding and harder and forcing her toward the floor. When they were stretched out full length beside each other, he nipped her ear and renewed his seductive explorations of her billowy heaving bosom. She stiffened as he seized one of the tingling pink nipples between his thumb and forefinger, rolling and pinching it to shoot arrows of pleasure and pain along her quivering nerves. She was vaguely astonished by what he was doing, but she lay quietly savoring the titillating fondling of her sensitive breasts. His hand moved down on her thigh again, his fingers lightly tracing the silky inner flesh as they worked up beyond the top of her nylons to within an inch or so of her moistening cuntal opening.
"Relax, your legs a little. Open them!" Irish breathed softly into her ear. Moving his hands up a fraction on her thigh as he said the words.
"I can't. I really shouldn't," she moaned even as she felt her thighs yielding to make herself more vulnerable. He ran his middle finger over the lips of her tightly closed vaginal slit and felt the sticky wetness of her nylon panties. With his other hand he was working steadily at the buttons of her blouse, opening them one by one, kissing each new exposure of her cleavage and at the same time cautiously slipping her bra straps off her shoulders. Protesting, she strained closer to him, her mind seemed to be fighting a losing battle with her body. She was aware of the hardness of his penis digging into her outer thigh as his hips rocked, frightening but exciting her to delirious heights of sexual desire.
"I love you, I love you! Oh, I love you!"
He responded by ripping open her blouse to the waist and jerking off her bra to fully reveal the full white spheres that had been driving him out of his mind all evening. With a basic animal moan he leaned over her and began to suck and bite voraciously at the stiff, light colored nipples. When she tried vainly to escape the sudden invasion of her purity, he wormed a hand under her buttocks and pulled at the moistened crotch of her panties until they gave way.
"Not this way! Oh please, no!" she cried. Shifting his weight on her to pin her flat, he parted the fine pubic hairs lining her pussy and slid one finger into her cuntal passage. As he closed his mouth over hers, he rolled the thrashing girl onto her side and removed the remaining shreds of her blouse and bra. Moving her then to the other side, he stripped away the last of her garments and yanked her skirt down over her legs and ankles and finally they were completely free of her body.
When his finger inched deeper into her helpless cunt, she gasped and whimpered for him to show her some mercy, but he continued slowly and expertly insinuating into her with his finger in an effort to loosen her preparation for the plunge of his huge cock. There was no escape for Hollie, so she lay back to experience fear and humiliation change to one of divine ecstasy. Her hands were tangled in his long brown hair, as she pulled his head greedily to her huge breasts.
Hollie began to sway and move with his motions as he grated his cock against her pubic hair, removing his hand to grip her hip and regulate her motions with his. His thick lusting rod rubbed teasingly over her clitoris, the oozing head grinding further and further into the wet flanges of her pussy until it began to spread the resisting ring of her almost virginal pussy. Nothing in the world had seemed so good, so all consuming to her in her whole life, and she wished suddenly that he would end her agony of longing and fill her desperately tingling pussy for good. Then, in her vagina, there was a feeling of being stretched beyond endurance and she could feel his long hard throbbing cock slide into her soft interior like a moving snake. All of his weight seemed to push into her groin, imbedding him in her brutally, sending unwanted tinges of exquisite sensuality through her entire being.
She began to undulate her body under his, levering herself on her elbows in order to meet his crushing lunges and bury the beautiful male cock into her as far as he could penetrate.
"Deeper! Deeper, please!" she screamed, urging him to fuck her even faster and harder. He gritted his teeth and began to plunge in and out of her with wild, driving thrusts that bowed his body grotesquely at the peak of the in-stroke. He held on to the cheeks of her ass with all the strength he could manage, his fingers clawing into her, hurting her, as she tried furiously to keep up the same wild fucking movements.
Hollie did not realize that others were in the room, nor did she notice the overhead lights were on. Wanda had turned them on when she was certain that the impassioned young woman was beyond seeing any change around her. The guests that were crowded at the door and particularly the ones who had positioned themselves closer to the frantically fucking couple were so engrossed in viewing this fascinating performance to talk or create any distracting disturbance. One couple, neighbors of Grace and Wanda's was kneeling within a foot of Hollie's head, their eyes glued to the pairs heated writhing as though in a spell. Her arms around the naked waists of two men, Wanda leaned back on the wall to the side of the door way, gazing intently on Hollie's unseeing, shut eyes. Angus, with his cock out, stood nearby, jerking it off like a lunatic as his own eyes took in the show and tried simultaneously to absorb the expressions of everyone crowded into the room.
Unaware of the audience, Hollie twitched and bucked uncontrollably as she encouraged her lover and at the same time relishing the pumping, punishing penis's ramming against her cervix. The man's lust was reaching its peak, tiny pains of fire boiling in his swinging balls. Then it happened, the spastic last heaves of climax that drove him into her even deeper, his long cock spearing into her, spewing his hot cum into her throbbing cunt in great waves.
"Not yet! Not yet! Wait for me too, darling!" she sobbed in frustration. But he couldn't wait and there was no hope for her. She pushed her hips up against his deflating penis, the cock that had fucked her to a mind blowing crest and then betrayed her by spending itself seconds before she too was able to cum. She pounded desperately at his back in hopes that she could finally make it, but he rolled off her body in exhaustion, and lay quietly beside her.
Now she was crazy with unfulfilled desire. She kicked her legs wide out in the air, her own fingers trying to manipulate the throbbing open passage between her legs. She dug into herself trying to reach the depths where a moment before the beautiful hard cock had once filled her.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, strong hands seized her arms and pulled them back, and at the same moment other hands spread her legs farther apart. On one breast, she felt a ravenous sucking mouth, and a warmly grasping hand on her other breast. She gasped as the combined attack of hands and mouths on her body began slowly to register in her mind. Timidly, she opened her eyes and took in what was happening to her. Cocks, mouths, and hands were everywhere; all over her body, sucking and fondling her. Her beloved lover was across the room, lying on his stomach, his head on his arms panting and trying to recover from his efforts.
"I'll finish what that big faker couldn't. Come on, baby!" the thin man slurred as he slid his experienced cock into her willing cunt.
"Fuck her, boy!" Wanda said, waving his red and white shorts like a cape in front of a charging bull.
"That's it! Yeah, Go! Go!" Exclaimed Angus, stumbling up to aim his own spurting cock at her face. Hollie licked her lips to taste all she could with her tongue of the foam that had fallen there. One of the other men had taken charge of her heaving breasts and was straddling her while he shoved his oozing penis roughly between her creamy tits, his demanding hands pushing them together to form a hot deep crevice for his aching cock. Another stranger pinioned her arms, to the floor and released her only to wind his fingers in her hair and force her head to one side, and then plunged his hard cock into her mouth with brutal force. All of the men were completely aware of their total conquest and mastery of Hollie's mind and body, they regarded the penetration of her mouth as an invitation to accelerate their communal use of her and proceeded to enjoy all the parts of her body at will.
Hollie screamed at the top of her lungs as orgasm after orgasm flowed over her. Her legs were drawn back and locked around the neck of the man whose cum was overflowing into her cunt with hot jet-like spurts. The cock in her mouth also exploded filling her throat with the wet sticky liquid, causing her cheeks to expand to the bursting point as she tried desperately to not lose one drop of the precious cum. Thin streams ran away from the corners of her mouth when he finally fell away from her, his softened cock falling uselessly away from her sucking mouth.
She placed her own hands over the hands of the man who was still holding her breasts, helping him by pressing them tighter around his rock like penis that was still stabbing up and down within inches of her chin. With a violent lunge, his moment arrived too and the first stream of his pungent sperm landed on her chin to dribble down onto her neck only to be drawn back in strings that mingled with the rest of his load of cum spilling between her tits. The areolas of her nipples were slick with the slickness of his glistening cum.
Hollie thrust her pelvis up against the lifeless member that was still in her cunt, then collapsed down on the floor as the cock slipped limply from her drenching pussy. She could not think or even bring herself to move. Unaware of the others, she stared at the ceiling, her hair and lips covered with the wetness of their cum, her thighs still shining where two men had pumped themselves to a climax. She felt lower than the most shameless prostitute, uncaring and beyond repentance. Then she remembered Irish, the carefree man, her lover. Turning on her side, she looked around the room her dulled vision finally resting on him across the room. He was prone as if in a coma and where she had seen him last, on his stomach, his superb body relaxed from his efforts with her seduction.
"Irish?" she called weakly to him, expecting him to rise up miraculously and erase all that had happened to her, the violations of her body, her nakedness, the sordid bliss she had felt as all those strange men had obscenely fucked into her and brought her to a beautiful, exciting orgasm.
"He's gone, baby, you wore him out, don't trouble yourself," Wanda's voice cut in from somewhere in the room. Hollie looked to where her friends voice was coming from and found her sitting nude with a man's head in her lap. Wanda's chin and thighs were still glistening from moist cum.
* * *
Later, when the party had broken up and Grace was telling the last of the guests goodbye, she felt embarrassed that her husband, Richard was passed out on the bed upstairs, still dressed and snoring like a baby. Oh well, the thought occurred to her, there were other people almost in the same condition, so she really shouldn't worry about it. What did worry her was the fact that Richard had been unfaithful to her by fucking her best friend, Wanda.
Grace had not mentioned to him that she knew of his making love with their neighbor. How could Wanda? But knowing this, she felt a little relieved and it made her own unfaithfulness at the studio now seeming less criminal. Yet, she couldn't believe that her own best friend would seduce Richard ... surely that must have been the case ... behind her back. And to make it worse, was the fact that he had allowed Wanda to do it even though he rarely showed sexual interest in her, his own wife.
She went slowly back into the house and into the kitchen. It was a shambles, trays littered with half eaten sandwiches and cigarette butts, empty bottles, broken glasses and someone had even left their coat hanging on a kitchen chair. The punch bowl, in the center of the table, had a crack in it running from the rim down to the bottom and the remains of the punch had spilled out onto the table leaving a dried green stain on the cloth.
Originally she had decided to dive in and clean up the worst of the mess, but she was overwhelmed by fatigue, the strain of the evening having exhausted her physically and emotionally. Happily, Angus had promised that her visit the next day to the studio would not require too much of her. In fact, he had hinted that most of his time would be occupied with a new model. He said she would probably only be there about an hour.
Then she found herself trying to imagine the new model. Maybe he had scheduled an interview with Hollie after all. She had left the party early, looking badly battered and with tear stains on her cheeks. She had thanked Grace for the party and left holding hands with Irish, the two of them weaving as they left. His low sleek Porshe was still parked where he had left it after the drive to the liquor store. Evidently the rumors she had heard about Hollie and Irish were true. But she had also heard that her young friend had conducted herself in an unbelievable fashion with several other guests, indulging in sex play with them that Grace knew would horrify Hollie had she been sober.
Strangely enough, she too had felt erotic urges all evening, and had wished that the party was another studio session and that she could participate in one of Angus's thrilling studio settings there in her own house. Yes, she decided, the super moral Hollie had broken loose and enjoyed the sexual advances of men ... at last!
With that thought Grace experienced a pang of guilt, feeling thankful that Richard was too drunk to move from the other bed, and she would have some time to herself to think about all that had happened this evening before she dropped off to an exhausted sleep.
CHAPTER SIX
"Hey, Hollie, haven't you got anything to drink in this place? I've looked everywhere while you've been lying there day dreaming about your debut last night."
Hollie peered up at the naked man standing over her, his long limp penis dangling loosely between his legs. She was too sleepy and hungover at first to be alarmed at the presence of a man in her bedroom. Then, as she became more awake, she recognized the man who had fucked her the night before, and a shudder coursed through her aching body.
"What are you doing here?"
"Hell, baby, last night you took my keys, remember? You convinced us both we're in love. Look, I'll settle for a cold beer or whatever you've got in the house, and then I'll be on my way."
Hollie rolled over to escape the impatience in his face, sobbing miserably and not caring that the sheet had fallen from her back and exposed her rounded buttocks. "How could you? How could you worry about a drink, after last night?" she managed to ask between wails of shame and disappointment.
"Look, I'll make you a deal," the man offered. "It's just because of last night that I need a drink before we talk about it, so you tell me where you've got the beer and then we'll sit down and talk about last night. I'd like nothing better, by God!" He sat on the edge of the bed and gently stroked her back to demonstrate his sincerity. Finally her sobs petered out to sniffles, and she turned to him and spoke.
"There's beer, and some sherry in the cabinet, it's over the stove." Then after a moments pause, she added, "I think I'd like some sherry to calm me down."
Returning from the kitchen with a nearly empty bottle of sherry he sat down again and poured a small portion into a glass, then handed it to her with a broad grin.
"There should be more, the bottle was almost full yesterday."
"Well don't worry, honey. I had a little taste in the kitchen. Now about last night," he said with a sweeping gesture that was meant to include the surrounding neighborhood. "I'd just try to forget the whole damned thing, if I were you."
"But, but you said that you loved me!" she whimpered miserably.
"Yeah, sure I love you. And you're one helluva good lay too." At that, she flinched and buried her face in the pillow as the humiliating words sank into her mind. Vivid images of her role in the den flashed back to her, making her half sick with conflicting feelings of guilt and remorse. Suddenly, those feelings were replaced with savage, all consuming anger, and she sat up rigidly in bed, her lush breasts bursting into view as she turned on her naked buttocks to stare hatefully up at him.
"Well," she stormed, "A good lay? That was what you wanted, wasn't it? And wasn't I? But that's right, you were too drunk to know, you were passed out on the floor. Maybe you'd better ask the others who fucked me silly, they know and they'll tell you all about it!"
She spat the words clearly and distinctly, her voice shaking with rage only toward the last, as fierce tears of indignation filled her eyes.
"Okay, teacher," she shouted, her voice breaking, "now I'm ready for anything! Thanks for the lesson."
Stunned by her outburst, Irish started to speak but she interrupted. She rose to her knees and discarded the sheet from the vee of her pubic hair and thrust her full hips toward him with obscene defiance.
"What's the matter?" she howled. "Don't you want to FUCK me? Or shall I find someone downtown or maybe even at the studio?"
"You crazy little bitch, you think because you got fucked by a few cocks last night, you're all whore now. I'm fond of you, sure and I'll fuck you, but you're too damned stupid to know what love is! I'll see you around," he waved, rising to leave, "and thanks for everything!"
"Don't go. I'm sorry ... Irish," she called out as he slammed the front door. "I do love you, I really do!"
A moment later she heard the snarling whine of the Porsche changing gears as it tore up the street, the sound growing dimmer and dimmer as though symbolizing her diminishing hope for a new life.
"Oh, his keys! I still have his keys!" she cried. She jumped out of bed and raced to the closet in the hall, grabbing the coat she had worn to the party. Searching frantically in the pockets, she sighed with relief when her fingers closed on the gold chain with an assortment of keys.
"Maybe I can find him at Mr. Leech's studio this afternoon?" Hollie asked, trying to camouflage her excitement as she wrote down the address Grace gave her from the other end of the line. "I'd be over to help you clean up, but he'll probably need his keys, although I can't imagine how he ever got home last night without them. Can you?"
"No, I can't," Grace agreed. "How do you feel this morning?"
"Perfect, just perfect, thank you!"
"I wish I could say the same for Richard," Grace said. "He was awfully confused this morning. He barely made it to work."
"Yes, I supposed everybody got a little drunk last night. Even me."
"Well," Grace consoled, "I'd have joined you, but I couldn't break away from my duties long enough to get involved in anything. Millie, you know the girl who went topless, was helping me serve, but it seems she got sidetracked with Richard's boss and forgot to help me."
"A lot of us did," Hollie said softly. "Anyway, thanks again for the address and the party. I'll try to come over tomorrow."
"You mean you're not going to stay for your interview with Angus today? I'll see you there, won't I?"
Hollie was silent as she struggled futilely to figure out the meaning of Grace's question. Had she committed herself to Angus as well as made a fool of herself with Irish and the other men at the party.
"Maybe," Hollie answered hurriedly. "I've got to go. Goodbye."
Grace stared quizzically into the silent telephone receiver, the curtness of the girl's answer like a slap in the face.
Hollie rubbed herself briskly with the thick towel after her shower, patting powder under her arms and inside her thighs. Her body glowed with a peachy tint from the hard spray she had trained on herself to cleanse away whatever remained from last night's orgy. Standing in front of the mirror, she sucked in her breath at the sight of the bruises and welts on her breasts that marred the otherwise faultless skin. Her breasts were tender, not as they usually were from their weight, but deeper in, where the muscles had been torn by the hands of men she had never seen before the encounter in the den. And there was a bruise between her creamy orbs that started in the crevice there and extended up to her collarbone.
She thought again of Irish's tenderness and the flurry of poignant kisses he had lavished on her the evening before, before lust had dazed and inflamed them both. Despite his ugly behavior that morning, she was certain that he was just as lonely and starved for affection as she, even though at this point he was not inclined to admit it. But she could never excuse the cruelty Wanda had shown in inviting the others to witness her love making with the man. Nor could she ever forgive the outrageous rape of her newly aroused body by the strange men, much less the fact that she had lost control and actually contributed wantonly to her own debasement.
She dressed with extra care, hoping wistfully that her dress would appeal to Irish ... she wanted so to impress him.
Hollie entered the waiting room to Leech's studio a little after two o'clock. Millie had shown her in very graciously and had made no reference to the party whatsoever. She had assured the nervous girl that Angus was inside, "working on a short sequence with one of the other models, and that he would be out as soon as possible."
Just as Hollie was settling back into the soft leather chair, preparing herself to wait as long as she must for the appearance of her new lover, Irish, the door opened and Leech sauntered in.
"So, you made up your mind to come after all?" he chuckled, seating himself on the broad arm of her chair. His eyes shone as he straightened his scarf and bestowed upon her his most winning smile.
"Actually, I'm here to see Irish. He left his car keys." She explained, her confidence flagging under the older man's intense study of her plush young body. He seemed not have heard her at all, and leered instead, as he remembered her delicious contortions as she endured the subjugating hands and cocks of her seducer, Irish, and the three other men on Grace's carpeted den floor.
"Why, of course you'll see Irish," he winked slyly, "but first, dear, let's finish the talk we started last evening. I'm sorry we were interrupted, but that man, the short heavy gentleman you saw me wander off with at the party, is one of my most generous clients. But I know you understand, now that you've met him on such intimate terms."
Hollie shivered as the full impact of his words hit her. Surely that man had been one of the three who had defiled her while Angus Leech had watched and masturbated himself to an orgasm.
Shifting himself closer to her, he suddenly caught her head in his hand and forced her face to his. She let out a pleading cry as he tilted back her head and pressed down his mouth on hers, his searing tongue forcing its way between her teeth to lick and stab into the recesses of the sweet wet cavern. With his other hand he clutched at her heaving bosom, rubbing the resilient mounds of her breasts with his palm and then clutching anew and pulling on them one at a time.
"You filthy man! Stop it! Stop!" she shrieked. Then he rammed his forearm into her neck, pushing her solidly back into the chair and lowering his head to one up-thrust breast. He sucked ferociously at the nipple, opening and closing his mouth on the shrinking pink tip under her bra and the fabric of her dress. She went rigid beneath him, gathering all her strength, and jerked away, screaming as the pain of wrenching loose from his teeth sent currents of agony through her chest.
"You dumb fucking whore!" he bellowed. "Do you think I don't know how hot you really are beneath that phony, proper exterior? Come here!" he said, pointing to an enormous mirror as he strode up to the wall facing the studio inside, "I'll show you something!"
She saw him press what was apparently a lever on the bottom section of the frame. "Are you willing to cooperate with me now?" he said as the reflection in the mirror changed to a clear view of the interior of the studio. Hollie rose to her feet, sucking in her breath at the shocking exhibition she saw.
Irish, her new boyfriend, was positioned between her friend and neighbor, Grace's legs, his hard glistening rod sliding easily in and out of her friend's hungry cunt. Grace was lying on her back, on the only table in the room, with her hands clasped behind her neck in an attitude of depraved surrender to his onslaught.
"This is a private session," Angus said, lighting a cigarette. "As you see, there are no cameras. They're rehearsing, you might say, for one of my more private episodes."
Hollie said nothing and watched with incredulity as Irish skewered Grace more violently, pounding into her unmercifully with his expanded cock. They were out of their minds with passion, fucking harder and faster as their greed for each other drove them on. Grace seemed to be shouting lewd encouragement to him through clenched teeth. She was begging him to ram it into her hot, wide open cunt and to fill her belly with cum. She was reveling in his riddling of her cunt and bucked up against him like a true whore to drain every last ounce of his energy with the sucking flanges of her vagina. Hollie watched with fascination at the lewd sight before her.
She was only remotely aware of Leech's naked penis creeping up under her skirt behind her to rest under her buttocks, finally finding its way up into the crevice protected by the thinness of her panties. She reached behind her to discourage any further invasion of her buttocks and accidentally encountered his soft, hair covered balls with her fingertips. At the touch, an expression of lecherous elation came over his face, his penis jerking to greater hardness. He pushed his free hand roughly down the front of her dress and cupped one lush breast, delighting in the fact that the massive, globe was too large to encompass with only one of his hands.
Hollie's struggles to escape his hand and probing cock grew less as she once again became absorbed in watching the good fucking Irish was giving Grace. They were in the throes of orgasm and screwed against each frantically.
"He's fucking her best friend, isn't he?" Leech said breathlessly. "And they're both liking it, aren't they? Watch!"
Hollie still said nothing but continued to watch, stunned,-not wholly believing what she was witnessing. Her lover, had lifted Grace's firm, creamy legs and spread them as wide apart as they would go. Then he saw her treacherous neighbor's mouth gape open, as though pantomiming a scream and she drove her groin up tightly against the working man's just as his hammering hips jerked forward and began spurting his cum into the deep, passion moistened cunt. She was horrified at the sight of Grace's trim white buttocks contracting uncontrollably, signaling her own orgiastic upheavel deep in her thrashing belly. Then thick white cum seeped from her quivering, pulsing pussy as it mercilessly squeezed at Irish's rod and she could see thin trails of the sticky white semen run down into the exposed valley guarding Grace's tightly puckered anus.
"Don't you wish that it was your cunt that his hot cum were in, Hollie dear? Don't you now?" Leech grinned, lasciviously as he took advantage of the girl's stunned expression and quickly unzipped the back of her dress without her even noticing what was happening. "Incidentally, my dear, this is a two way mirror so neither of your trusted friends can see you watching them fuck."
"Oh my God, how could they? I trusted them and now look! Oh," Hollie moaned pitifully, biting her lower lip as she watched Irish get up off of Grace, gleaming strings of both their cum clinging to his deflating member when he withdrew away from his still obviously aroused partner.
"Watch carefully now, because the show isn't over, not over at all," Angus Leech informed her. Still unaware of her partial nakedness, and now hardly caring that Leech's erect and hardened penis had slipped under the elastic band of her nylon pantie leg. Hollie saw Irish raise his hand in a gesture of welcome to the two young men who had walked into the soundproof and mirrored room. They stopped several yards away from the table where Grace lay waiting. Irish held a brief conversation with them, then smiled wickedly and in lewd invitation, pointed his upturned hand toward Grace's open and warm pubic area. Her pussy was glistening and waiting and the two young men were ready.
Hollie gulped and felt a rush of heat within her when she saw the size of the shorter man's sex organ. God, she thought it must be bigger than Irish's and it's still soft! Almost immediately she forgot her hurt and anger over Irish's betrayal of her with Grace. She watched with increasing excitement as the two men approached Grace, the tall man's cock already hard and jutting out like a long hard poker, while the other's thick, heavily veined organ swung pendulously from side to side as he walked toward her.
A desperate look of fear registered on Grace's face when she realized that the depleted sex actor, Irish, had deserted her to stand across the room and watch the two young men circle her menacingly, like big cats on a hunting party ... and she was their prey. Unexpectedly, the taller man seized her wrists, and held them fast to the table while his friend wound his strong fingers in her hair, forcing her face into his curly pubic hair.
He rubbed the blunt end of his growing prick on her cheeks and along the edges of her mouth, his hips straining forward as he yanked ruthlessly at her nearest breast to lever her body up to the edge of the shaking table. Then arching his back, he rammed into her unprotected mouth with his monstrous shaft, stretching her lips thin and bloating her cheeks even though the instrument was far from being as hard as the other man's.
Hollie felt a blending of regret and relief when the man fucking himself to total stiffness in Grace's mouth, stopped, and for no apparent reason. Mesmerized, she pressed closer to the mirror to catch every nuance and detail of their erotic movements. The blonde man Grace had been sucking had pulled out his cock and was helping the other man bully their captive to her feet. Then the shorter man seated himself on the edge of the unsteady table, his now fully hard prick sticking up several inches above his navel like a snake ready to spring. They worked like an efficient team and muscled the wiggling Grace up onto the table, her thighs straddling the seated man's loins. The latter hoisted her hips higher and plunged his thick pulsing cock halfway into her, pushing the unresisting moist flesh of her tender pussy in soft waves before its cruel impalement deep within her.
Grace's back tensed at the quick and brutal impalement, then she relaxed and she slithered down to wetly devour, with her open cunt, the last remaining section of the hardened rod of flesh. The man still holding her while standing moved in then and dug his fingers into the soft white hips, elevating her soft buttocks to a level with his own bursting pulsating instrument. Holding it, he aimed the glistening rod at the tightly clenched ring of her anus and leaned in until it's mushrooming head touched her. He rubbed it in slow teasing circles around the opening and pressed steadily in, finally planting the first part of the bulbous tip inside her stinging ass hole. When he had pierced a few inches into her, he slapped the bottom man on his thigh and muttered something to him.
"That's it! That's it! The signal!" Angus yelled to Hollie. "How do you like that, eh? Don't you think that would feel heavenly, you big tittied little bitch; to have two hard cocks fucking into you at once? That's what you call the full sandwich fuck, how do you think you would like that?"
"Oh, that does look wonderful ... Yes! ... I want to do it too. Please!" Hollie begged him as her lust driven companion pulled her dress up over her white mooned buttocks and stripped her panties down around her ankles. As he quickly kicked out of them and ground back against his blood engorged cock wedging into the upper depths of the crevice between her gyrating buttocks. But then, Leech stepped back a little and dropped to his knees behind her, prying open her ass cheeks and he rammed his face between them, covering her anus with his suctioning mouth. His long hot tongue flicked out and into her virginal ass-hole, rolling and twisting inside her until she thought she would faint from utter ecstasy.
"Watch! ... Look at them!" Leech commanded, diving back to renew his tongue lashing and sucking of the girl's lewdly working back passage.
Her head whirled with brainless sensuality when she managed to focus her eyes again on the threesome. Grace's rounded white buttocks were pried open wider than ever now, the pair of huge glistening pricks fucking with alternating rhythm into her incredibly expanded ass-hole and her pussy. Hollie was thrilled with each of their thrusts into Grace's wildly thrashing body, watching enthralled, as the standing man's great sperm laden balls swayed at the base of his hard driving rod, smacking into the bottom man's balls with every animal like plunge into her.
"Oh, if only," Hollie yearned, taking a wide stance to permit Leech's smothering mouth and tongue to forge greater pleasure at his will. She hated and envied Grace but not for having been fucked by her own Irish. She wanted to be in Grace's place now and to have those thick shiny rods sliding beautifully in and out of her cunt, filling her, spreading the sensitive walls of her own yearning pussy and ass. She could almost feel Grace's fantastic frenzy as the man skewered into
Grace's cunt and pulled with angry sucking motions of his mouth on her friends's wildly juggling tits.
Hollie's dreams were brought to a halt when she cried at the entrance of Angus Leech's saliva wet penis into her own tight, resisting ass-hole. Her brow furrowed with anguish, and she struggled unsuccessfully against it, yet she was hesitant to chance losing what was at least half of the pleasure that her friend Grace was experiencing and so endured the initial discomfort of his entrance. His hands were clutching both breasts from behind, his fingers occasionally pausing to pinch her rigid nipples until they stung from the pressure. Even though her rectal passage was still wet from the small intrusions of his tongue, she was not prepared for this sadistic attack from the rear. Still, he pushed into her, the sphincter muscles around her anus closing on and swallowing more of his lustfully throbbing cock with each plunge. The pain was so overwhelming that she could not think. Tears came to her eyes as the advancing penis probed deeper and deeper. "It's good! Ohhh, yes! Do it to me there, fuck me hard!" she groaned with the changing sensation of pain to weird pleasure. She began to push backwards toward the thrusting of his loins.
"You, put your legs further apart and watch them! Look!" Leech snapped. His hard, wet cock head rode further into her ass, at last up to the stocky hilt, and he dropped one hand from her breasts to sensuously to stimulate her thrumming clitoris. Obeying him, she turned her attention anew to the threesome inside on the crazily wobbling table. The two men were on the verge of emptying their sperm in Grace, their eyes were rolled back, their teeth bared as they stroked into her with animal lust. Grace wallowed obscenely, raising and lowering her hips to run every fraction of the last inch of their cocks into her belly and ass. Suddenly Hollie saw both men stiffen almost together and begin a spasmodic jerking action as they began shooting hot gushing cum into Grace's ravaged ass-hole and cunt. Seething torrents of the milky fluid flowed freely out of her and ran off their testicles, and finally slipped off the table onto the floor. This sight was almost too much for Hollie to bear and she felt the tremor of her climax sweep through her and flow volcanically in delightful spasms, causing her mind to reel with the ecstasy of it.
" Aaaaaagggggghhhhhh. Yeeesss, yesss," she screamed as she felt the first convulsions of Angus's orgasm matching her own. His raging rod redoubled its fury, fucking in to her very depths and sending the contents of his balls splashing against the tender inner wall separating her rectum from her cuntal passage. Gradually, the force of his rampaging cock slowed to a lagging churning motion, until at last he staggered back from her, his limp penis slipping out of her no longer virginal ass-hole with a slight popping noise.
She fell forward against the two way mirror, the heavy breathing from Leech's ultimate exertion no less than her own exhausted breathing. Then she looked inside again and saw that the two men had risen and left the table to fall onto the couch that was on one side of the room. Their chests were heaving as they too tried to regain normal breathing again. Grace was still on the table, now on her back with her legs wide flung as she stared trance-like at the white ceiling. Her soft young pussy hair was matted with their semen, the reddened flanges of her cunt as raw and stretched open as was her newly opened anus.
The full breasted girl could no longer deny her sexual awakening. She was now a real woman whose latent desire for men had been torturing her for years, waiping her life, making her a prisoner in a morality what was never really her true self. Perhaps, her father's rape of her young and defenseless body had been an excuse to avoid the feverish urgency in her blood by becoming socially involved in clubs and other activities, none of which were really effective when it came to helping others as well as herself.
Both Grace and Angus Leech had stressed the importance of the work in the studio, that the workshop was a dynamic way of finding oneself as well as trying to help others, bringing them together ... yes, it certainly could be very fulfilling and beneficial work ... so why not, she asked herself. So she adjusted her bra forming the huge breasts into them snuggly and smiling sweetly, turned her back to Leech. "Angus, would you mind zipping me up?"
"Why yes, of course. I'd be more than happy to help you in any way possible now." Having dressed and regained his usual composure, Leech placed his hand warmly on her shoulder and steadied her while he closed the back of her dress with his other hand.
"Oh, thank you," she said, still smiling coyly, her expression softening even more as a new, wonderful hope fluttered in her chest.
"I'm pleased, so very pleased that you qualify for our work here," he said smiling, "and now I hope you'll understand the reason you should be leaving before Grace comes out of the room. She might be, well, a bit upset if she sees you here, especially since she'll be leaving with your friend Irish and the two other men ... Understand?"
"Oh, don't worry about her seeing me here, she knew that I might be coming, Mr. Leech," Hollie began to explain.
"Never mind that," Leech broke in on her statement, a good natured gruffness in his voice. "Simply take my word for it, Hollie." He then reached inside the upper desk drawer and took out a sealed white envelope, and handed it to her.
"This will be of great interest to you I think."
"But Irish's keys. I have them with..."
"Give them to me, I promise that I'll return them to him. Besides, you'll be seeing your new friend regularly from now on."
"Well, alright, I'll be leaving now then. See you soon, goodbye." And she turned toward the door to leave, her voice showing the disappointment at not speaking to Irish after all.
But when she reached the street she opened the envelope that Angus had given her and was astonished at the sight. She had five hundred crisp dollar bills inside. She couldn't believe her eyes and so she opened the enclosed note with anticipation.
Angus had told her that she was indeed a very beautiful girl and he was impressed by her willingness to cooperate with the work project. She was to be at the film studio again tomorrow morning and they were happy to have her working with them. She was free to choose whatever costume or clothing she desired It was signed, Angus.
She was very thrilled about her new job, and couldn't wait until tomorrow morning. Well, it certainly was a fine way to earn that much money and to think that she could also see Irish in her job too ... that will be so nice, she thought. It's nice to be free of my inhibitions, at last!
CHAPTER SEVEN
An entirely different kind of note was handed to Grace when she emerged from the film room with the three men. She was confident that it was the usual hundred dollar bills with instructions to return on a certain day and so didn't read it immediately upon leaving the studio. Angus had been somewhat distant, but it made no impression upon Grace because she was still basking in the relaxing aftermath of her sexual encounter a few minutes ago, and it didn't seem important to wonder about his coolness then.
But now, she was sitting on the local city bus as it strained up the hill to her street, and was stunned, shaken by the contents it contained. She had found the money inside, but also with it was a shattering note from Angus. And he had actually signed it Mr. Leech! Not even Angus as he had been doing of late! It was written in a very terse style and informed her that she was no longer needed in the series they were working on ... they sincerely hoped that she had benefited by her experiences with them and would she please continue to show discretion regarding the duties she performed while she had been in their employee ... and enclosed were the payment for her services.
She couldn't believe her eyes, what had happened? She had done her best and they had told her of future plans that she was to be involved in as well, and now she was no longer needed! She felt as if she had been cast aside, as indeed she had been.
The next morning Grace slept later than usual, explaining to Richard that she hadn't slept a wink all night and wanted to catch an extra hour of rest after he left for his work. Again, he seemed to understand and left her with the idea she should stay in bed all day if she thought it would help.
She had drifted off to sleep right after he drove off but awoke shortly after nine o'clock feeling a little more refreshed." She had quickly dressed and had gone to the bank to deposit her money in the savings account she had opened earlier for her extra money she was earning.
Now, at eleven, she was busy cleaning house, a frown on her forehead as she tried desperately not to think of Angus Leech, her work, her friends ... anything! She planned to prepare an excellent dinner for Richard tonight and start being a genuine wife again, in all ways.
But nothing was working. Her resolves faded into thoughts about herself, her failures as a woman and now even as a whore. She had decided that was exactly what she had become ... a whore just as common as though she had walked the streets ... or even just a prostitute in some second class brothel on the wrong side of the tracks. Her feelings were still not crystallized though she admitted. She had felt pride, for earning the tidy sum now safely in the bank as well as for her performances at work.
No one there had complained at least she didn't think so and yet ... and yet, she had been discharged with no apparent reason. Surely if they had finished her part in the series, she could act in an other one...
Then she recalled her consternation when Angus had told her that yesterday's session was not to be filmed and that it was to be a trial run to determine her ability to relate with men, more than one man ... She had been confused by the absence of the cameras, as she had grown to like having these events recorded. Also she was upset because Millie hadn't even been there taking notes and whispering to Leech.
Most upsetting of all though, had been when Irish had come in and briskly instructed her to undress immediately. "The boss man said I'm supposed to warm you up again," he had explained. And he had, oh he had! Then, after the warm up, those two other young men had come in and the heartless way they had used her, turning her blood to wild fire and driving her insane with rapture. They had even told her how good she had been. Still, here she was, dismissed, not even worthy of whoredom. No wonder Richard was dissatisfied with her in bed! She was no good as a wife or a whore!
* * *
"Grace, are you home?" Wanda yelled from the front door.
"I'm up here Wanda, in the kitchen."
"I thought you were here, your window is open and from the looks of those clouds you would never go away and leave them open. Hey, what's the matter? You look pretty glum, did something happen at the studio today."
"I don't know," Grace said listlessly.
"What do you mean, 'you don't know'? I thought you and old Mr. Film Maker himself were in the middle of filming the best film ever made. He can't be tired of sex, if I know Angus ... but maybe it's you who is tired of sex..."
"Yes, I think that I am tired of sex, and a lot of other things too."
"Oh come on, Grace," Wanda mocked, "don't tell me you're becoming your same old self-righteous self again, are you? When you have finally loosened up and have begun to enjoy yourself, why, what's happened? Don't you like all that money, and too, what about the plan to really please Richard in bed? Come on, please tell me!"
"No, the same old Grace I am not. You of all people, should know that, Wanda. Just as you seem to know what pleases my husband better than I do. As she talked, she felt a wave of anger rising in her at the thought of Wanda's betrayal with Richard on the night of the party. That, plus her disgrace of being fired yesterday at the studio, made her want to lash out visicously at the 'know it all' woman.
"Christ, what's bothering you today?"
"Okay, I'll tell you what's bothering me! Do, you really want to know or are you afraid to know? The first thing is, I've been told by your friend Angus Leech that I'm no longer needed as a whore at his so named studio. Secondly, I'm sick and tired of your kind of cheap friendship. And last of all, I know all about you and Richard going to bed together, for what you will probably call an 'affair' during the party last night. That's what's bothering me Wanda!" After her outburst, Grace glared with a hateful silence at Wanda and she stared back in disbelief, amazed by the fire and loathing in her calm neighbor's usually placid temperament.
"Why ... Grace ... what on ... How ... Who told you about Richard and me?"
"It's not important who told me," Grace interrupted. "What is important is what you did ... you fucked my husband behind my back and right here in my own house!
While she was sorry that Grace had learned of the infidelity with Richard, Wanda could not understand her friend's angry suggestion that she was afraid to take on a real man. It was an unfair opinion but to reassure herself, she thought back to the other men in her life ... college, work and even the service men she had met ... they had all prized her as having a real talent in making them sexually aroused beyond the normal female. She would fuck anyone, and she had long ago decided, if he was clean, good looking, and with some intelligence so as not to be inhibited she would go to bed ... No, she was good and enjoyed sex and perhaps Grace was merely worried about Richard, his inability to get worked up when he was with his own wife.
"Grace, listen to me," Wanda began, "I confess that I did go to bed with Richard ... and I am also sorry that your arrangement with Angus didn't work out, but you are wrong about some things. As for Richard, he's a lot more man than I thought he would be ... you should know that."
"I don't know anything, you're the expert. Tell me!" Grace spat, infuriated by Wanda's cool declaration of guilt. "However, there's one thing ... if you're such an nympho, why haven't you worked at the studio? It's all fun and games you know."
"I told you," Wanda said abruptly. "Tom brings in enough money for us and I don't need to work extra."
"You liar!" Shrieked Grace, her face becoming deeply red with rage and her shoulders shaking with emotion. "Why don't you admit that Angus knows you for what you are, a frigid bitch and doesn't want you around. Tom doesn't either or he wouldn't make a point of staying on his trips so much!"
"Go to hell! That's not true!" Wanda yelled at last loosing her self control. "Any man who has any sense wants me! Richard's been hot for me since the day you moved in to this dump. And when it comes to Angus, you don't know what you're talking about. After all, he dropped you didn't he?"
"Wanda, that is quite enough. You had better leave, and now!"
"You're damned right I'll leave right this minute too!" Wanda stormed down the stairs. Turning when he got to the door, she shouted back at Grace. "But you are going to be sorry as hell you ever met me!"
"I am already and I don't want to ever see your face again! Do you hear?" Grace was shouting at Wanda as she crossed over the lawn to her house next door. What a way for a friendship to end!
CHAPTER EIGHT
An hour later, still furious, Wanda sat in her own kitchen with a tall glass of vodka tonic in front of her. She had been fighting her anger at Grace, trying to rationalize her way back to calmness, but she had succeeded only in becoming more enraged as she thought about the accusations directed at her. She had even attempted to telephone Tom at his hotel in San Diego, but had been informed by the operator that he had not yet shown up to claim his reservation there. This was not like him, she pondered as she sipped the drink, not like him at all to forget to cancel a reservation. He was too efficient, too much the enterprising businessman, to neglect even something so trivial as telephoning the hotel to say he would be delayed or was not coming after all.
Wanda checked the calendar on the wall beside the stove, hoping that she had mixed up the days ... no, she had been right: it was the twenty-fourth, two days after he said he would arrive in the city to meet with the head buyer of the dress factory. Anyway, there it was, the uncanceled reservation itself! She wished she knew where he was going to be, then she could call and talk to Millie. He was undoubtedly staying with one of the staff members. Of course, he had probably gone directly to the meeting, had a few drinks afterwards with someone, an executive or buyer-and had been invited to the man's house for dinner and overnight. That would account for everything, surely, Wanda decided, taking another healthy gulp of her drink to salute her ability as being logical. But why hadn't he telephoned her for almost a week?
"Goddamn Grace!" she said aloud, surprising herself with her own voice. The bitch had actually ridiculed her, called her a "sex expert" and gone on to imply that Tom, her own husband, was using business as an excuse to stay away. And as for Angus, he had begged her to come to work for him-actually begged! She had declined, of course, because Tom would not-have wanted her to waste herself on a lot of slavering idiots with big cocks. Not that she had ever asked for his opinion on the issue; she just knew he wouldn't want her to.
Still, she had to be honest with herself. The very word "cock" sent cold chills up and down her spine. Subsequent to Angus's offer she had been tempted to listen to him and go to the studio at least once to take in a filming session. He had tried to entice her with tales about this male actors, saying that he rarely considered hiring a man unless he had an above average endowment of sex equipment. She could take her choice of them any day, he promised.
Even though she was riled, she could not hold down the giddy warmth that engulfed her when she envisioned hard or even a limp male sex organ, with or without bodies and faces attached above.
She took another sip from the glass and rose, noting as she swayed toward the bedroom that the alcohol was having a remarkable effect on her ... Or was it more than just the drink? Anyway, her entire system was in a state of disorder, a mixture of anger, excitement, and alcoholic haze.
The magazines were where she had left them, in the top drawer of her dresser. She chose several of her favorite photos and sat on the bed, leafing through the pages with delight. Then, with a sardonic sneer on her face, she stopped and read a portion of the text on the first page of one of the magazines: "This magazine is produced to provide a unique collection of photo reference studies to be used by the serious artist. Any person desiring erotic or sordid material are warned that such is not to be found in this book, nor is it our intention to provide material of such a nature..." Ha! Big deal, Wanda thought, as she leaned over to examine one picture of a young man not more than twenty, who was posed in a kneeling position. His thick cock and dark-skinned scrotum hung to the floor between his tight muscular thighs. He appeared to be rather obtuse she thought, but for that very reason, he was all the more stimulating. She could almost feel the texture of his cockhead, th smooth soft skin of his balls. Then she lay bac panting with her legs parted. Her long tanned le lifted up and bent and unbent alternately, her back bowing as she moved her hips slowly to the lilting rhythm of her dream. Her fingertips stroked the soft outer lips of her vagina, spreading the moist flesh gently apart, caressing their smoothness to sudden rigidity. A kaleidoscope of sensual visions committed to memory tumbled about in her head, stirring her desire and anger toward Grace simultaneously.
Wanda inserted a finger between the pulsing flanges of her vagina, expecting her passion to soar even higher. But nothing happened. Then she plunged another finger in, and another, now three altogether, and still she felt nothing like the blaze of sensuality that she had expected. Instead, she was beset by an overwhelming anxiety and a foolish shriveling of her longing to fondle the young man's fleshy, dangling penis. "Cock, big fat, cock!" she chanted desperately in an attempt to rekindle her lusty hunger. Finally, admitting defeat, she hurled the magazine against the wall and pulled up her panties, an affronted expression smoldering like sulphur in her eyes. "That bitch, that silly bitch! ... Well, she'll pay, by God, she'll pay for this!"
* * *
"Hi, kids," Wanda said as she walked up to Hollie and Irish. They had just climbed out of the Porsche and were busy straightening their clothes and stretching when Wanda's greeting cut through the roar of traffic still buzzing in their ears.
"We're just coming from the studio," Irish said, brightening at Wanda's presence. "Hollie and I finished about the same time-take it as you like-and I graciously offered to drive her home."
"Oh, yes, Wanda, it was beautiful-more than I thought it would be. You just don't know." Hollie exclaimed as she smiled up at Irish.
"Oh, it was uh, beautiful," Irish smirked. "A perfect pisser of an afternoon, despite the fact that little blooming tits here had been hard at it since sometime this morning ... Good Christ, talk about waking a sleeping beauty..."
Hollie gazed lovingly ,at Irish, her lips half-mooning in an innocent expression of adoration. "Tease all you like," she giggled, "but now I know why they call you a stud."
"Well, this stud needs a stiff drink."
"Hey Hollie, I've got an idea," Wanda joined in. "I've just opened a fresh bottle of vodka ... Why don't you two sex-maniacs come to my house and cool down over a drink? Okay?"
"Splendid idea!" Hollie said dolefully, "I've got to shower and get ready for the Neighborhood Honor Society meeting at seven o'clock ... I'm resigning this evening ... Irish, you'll stop over before you leave, won't you?"
"Sure, baby ... But now, let's have that tall one," he said, winking mischievously at Wanda.
Later and settled down comfortably in the den, Irish and Wanda spent a leisurely half hour poking fun at Hollie's gleeful exuberance over her recent introduction to the exciting fruits of sex and love.
After a while, he began to loosen up and, while moving closer to his hostess, launched a steady flow of praise and poetic ideals designed to bowl over any obstacle in his way.
"It comes to me, my good friend, that you're a true cynic, imbued with wit and charm, but above all, an insight into the symptoms of our decay as a culture ... I should say..."
"I should say you're drunk," Wanda said saucily, "and that now you're trying to talk your way into my pants. You might make it, you know, but that depends upon something else."
"Damned if you didn't find me out, you would! But what sacrificial provision must I hold to strike it rich in your secret parts? In other words, how much to fuck you, Wanda, dear?"
"I'm surprised that you'd pay for any woman. But since you've placed me in a position to bargain, I admit that there's something I do want."
"My car?" Irish asked sarcastically yet not certain what she did want.
"No, not your car," Wanda laughed. "It's something much less expensive, I'd simply like to borrow one of Angus's films without his knowing it. I want one with Grace in it, one of the ones that hasn't been released. I'd ask him myself, but I know he's a fanatic about unedited film. It's all in fun, just for a joke."
Irish shrugged his shoulders and said, "Hell, if that's all you want, there's no problem whatsoever. But you're not planning something rotten at Grace's expense, are you? She's a nice girl, you know. Besides, even though she did last a little longer than most of them, she just got the boot from Angus."
Sidling up closer to him, until her leg pressed warmly against his, Wanda assumed a pouting expression and nuzzled her head into his chest. "Come on now, would anyone as affectionate as I am do mean things to others? Anyway, I thought you were interested in knowing me better."
With that, he reached out for her breasts and at the same time rolled on his side to throw a leg over her thighs. Her head still nestled against him, she smiled to herself and allowed him to believe that his seduction of her was in the bag.
Then, with a perfect imitation of real protest, she uttered a little cry and struggled free. "Not yet, Irish-Don't forget, you've not met my price." Still wearing her pout, she added, "Most important, though, I'll be certain to see you again when you bring the film."
"I'll be damned! You've outfoxed me again!
Okay, you win, I'll get you your damned film, despite its being a risk and against my better judgment. But I think I'm entitled to test "what I'm paying for-even if it's just a feel-How about it?"
"Wouldn't that amount to the same thing as credit?" Wanda asked coyly, feigning amazement. Nevertheless, she did not flinch when he gathered her beautiful ripe body to his and kissed her firmly on the mouth. His hands moved once again toward her full succulent breasts, but this time she complied with his desire to touch her and sat passively while he kneaded the lifting spheres. She saw his enormous cock jump to life in the crotch of his slacks, a stain of semen beginning to spread where the inflated head strained to burst through the light material. Then, her own sensual yearning sprang to life, her flesh prickling and chilling for the second time that afternoon. The sight of his aching penis, and his expert manipulations of her breasts, made her wish that holding out were not her insurance that he would return with the film she wanted. But her revenge was too important to sell out for a single sexual feast, no matter how fantastic it would no doubt be.
"Steady there, man! You'll get your ride, I promise, just as soon as you deliver the goods. After all, you only wanted a feel tonight."
"Damn!" he exclaimed, "for such a hot-blooded little bitch, you're as calculating as Lucrica Borgia. Don't worry baby, I'll deliver ... Be prepared though, because I'll be here!"
"Say, you'd better run if you're going to see Hollie before she takes off to sink the Neighborhood Honor Society with her speech on free love."
"Yeah, I guess you're right. I've got to work with her on the filming, and it's up to me to keep her agreeable ... Besides, that blooming chest of hers is nothing to spit at. But one thing bothers hell out of me," he said as though thinking aloud. "I can't figure out how a broad with tits as big as hers ever managed to get a membership in the Neighborhood Honor Society! Can you?"
Wanda smiled and said, "Maybe that's the reason she was accepted, those big tits. There are some old gentlemen in the club too, and she does look innocent, so the women would vote for that. Ha! Just wait until the word gets out about her 'freedom' party, the other night."
"Yeah, that's a juicy piece of gossip for them." Irish smiled. "Well see you Wanda ... I'm splitting now."
CHAPTER NINE
"Mr. Benton, there's a Mr. Tom Taylor on line three," the operator informed Richard over the intercom.
"Hello, Richard, this is Tom, your wandering next door neighbor. Listen, I want to apologize for calling you at work, but I just arrived this afternoon from San Francisco and had to get in touch."
"It's good to hear from you," Richard said uncertainly, fearing that his friend's call might be about Wanda and their party. There was no crispness in Tom's voice, though; nothing to indicate that he knew ... "So what's up, old friend?"
"Nothing world-shattering. It's just that a friend of Wanda's came by this morning and dropped off a stag film. Something spicy, I hope ... Well, he's got to have it back tomorrow, and I thought you'd like to drop over this evening to see it with me. We'll have a few drinks, talk ... That sort of thing."
"Sounds fine, Tom, but what about the girls?"
"Oh, that's all taken care of. Young Hollie has been in touch with Wanda, she just left, as a matter-of-fact. They're over at your house now .v It seems that Wanda and Grace had some sort of falling out today ... Nothing important. A woman thing, probably about clothes or a recipe, something silly. But, to make a long story short, the girls have conspired to get Grace out of the house and over to Hollie's, to hash things out, while you and I sit around swilling booze and watching some cunt get her fill of well, whatever fills her. What do you say? Can you come?"
"Suits me," Richard said with relief, anxious to please Tom. "But what time is it safe to come? What time?"
"Anytime, as soon as you get home. But go home first and put on something casual, something you don't mind messing up if the girl in the film's as good as she's supposed to be. "Oh, you'd better grab a bite to eat while you're there. There's not a damned thing in our refrigerator but diet food and some kind of punch concoction Wanda uses to keep her hormones alive. Well, I'll let you go back to your work. See you about seven."
"Okay, Tom, and thanks for calling."
Richard sat quietly at his desk after he had told the switchboard girl that he would not receive any more calls unless they were extremely urgent. Aside from being behind in his work, he needed time to think and let the tightness of his stomach relax. God knows, his wild interlude with Wanda had seemed worth all the risks and hazards of any extra marital indulgence. But that was on the night of the party, so long ago in time, and now he felt guilty, sorry that he had allowed mere drunkenness to carry him so irrevocably beyond Grace's simple trust. He had always been unrelentingly strict with her, perhaps too much so, and she would surely lose confidence in his authority if she ever found out about his breach of her faith in him.
But Wanda was such an earthy, cock hungry bitch. She was the kind of woman men star in their wildest erotic fantasies and not even Grace would blame him if she knew anything about sex and what makes a man tick. He had never broken their marriage vows with anyone before Wanda, but if Grace did not somehow miraculously change into a real woman in bed, there was every possibility that he would work out his frustrations with his gorgeous neighbor again. Just the thought of her animal like contortions, her delicious long legs and high white breasts, made his cock hard as steel. He wished he were with her that very moment, slipping his big rod between the ridges of soft flesh framing her deep wet pussy. Yet, Grace's body was just as exciting, fleshier, more voluptuous, perhaps, but perfectly proportioned. Her breasts were fuller, in some ways less wholesome and more inviting than Wanda's. If she were only a little more primitive, more female and not so submerged in her role as wife, she would be sexually superior even to Wanda.
He thought, then, of his role as Grace's husband. For some reason, one he could not fully comprehend, he had changed from a lover into a ruler of his wife. He had become her hostile critic, derogater and detractor, finding flaws, carping, correcting, and above all minimizing and cutting her down to a scale she seemed to understand and want.
"Richard, if you don't mind, I'd like to see the report on the Hayward deal," a voice cut in.
"Oh ... yes, of course, Mr. Brown, here's the preliminary right here. I'll have the final on your desk by quitting time. I'm not quite finished yet."
* * *
Richard pulled into his driveway just as it was growing dark, a few minutes after six o'clock. Grace must already be gone, he thought, as the house lights were out except for the one small lamp they always kept burning when they were away.
Inside, he found a brief note from Grace on the table by the door.
"If you need me, I'm at Hollie's ... She and Wanda came by this afternoon to invite me over for a talk and coffee. Your dinner is in the oven.
Love, Grace."
Later, Richard sat eating alone for the first time in years. She had left a tuna noodle casserole, which was one of his favorite dishes, but he found himself not enjoying it because of her absence ... she was always there.
Then he remembered what Tom had said about Grace and Wanda having had a falling out. Surely Wanda had not said anything about ... But no, of course she wouldn't. As bold and irreverent as she was, she was no more willing to jeopardize her security with Tom than he, Richard, was to hurt Grace unnecessarily. It was more likely what Tom had guessed, some wholly irrational female thing involving vanity. Funny that Grace had neglected to mention it to him, though. Usually she painstakingly reported everything, even the most boring incidents, to him the first opportunity she got, and she said nothing about this.
In the bedroom, changing into his jeans and an old sweater, it occurred to him that Tom would appreciate seeing the collection of some old college books he had saved from his graduate days when he was writing his thesis. Grace had tried several times to add them to her pile of terminal junk during spring housecleaning, but he had always intervened wanting to save them for a rainy day.
They were exactly where he had last seen them a month ago, downstairs in the garage in a dark corner next to the extra tires, covered with dust and oil and beginning to yellow. He chuckled aloud when he noticed that the small heap of feces near the books was peaked with balls of dust that their cat had clawed onto to hide his scent.
Richard was scanning the second volume when his eyes wandered and he caught sight of the thin imitation leather booklet resting on top of the next layer of yellowed books. He picked it up and read the cover: Hillsdale Savings and Loan Co. It was new and had apparently been moved under and taken from the books a number of times. Opening it to the first page, he was stunned when he saw the booklet was Grace's, a savings account and in her name! The balance was $3,175!
He reeled where he stood, trying to make sense of this extraordinary discovery ... But this was impossible! Not even he could have skimmed that much money from the household allowance he gave her every week. Moreover, the account had been opened less than a month ago. There were seven entries, all over two-hundred dollars, the last one only deposited several days ago.
He checked his watch and saw that it was after six-thirty. Tom would be wondering about him. He stuffed the book into his hip pocket and started up the stairs, convinced that his discovery must be a mistake and could put to rest in his mind with a simple explanation from Grace. Still, he could not help but speculate about it. There had to be an explanation, and he was going to find out what it was tonight.
* * *
Richard stood at the bar in the play room while Tom mixed the drinks, mostly whiskey, in two hefty tumblers.
"We bought these a few years back," Tom said, pointing to the glasses. For special kinds of liquor, but they're so large and hold the cold so well, I use them for beer and cocktails too. Saves me a lot of walking. You don't need refills so often with them."
"Good idea, they're nice," said Richard, without conviction, his mind still swarming with questions about Grace's savings account. He thought of excusing himself and rushing over to Hollie's house to ask his wife for the answers, but decided against it. Tom seemed to be at ease, a little drunk perhaps, but pleased that they were drinking together and sharing an evening like true bachelors. Well, I might as well take it easy too, Richard decided, lifting his glass for another belt of the potent drink.
"Did you figure out what the girls were mad about?" Tom asked. "I asked Wanda just before she left, but she wouldn't say. Said something about my being an inconsiderate son-of-a-bitch. Then she went on and on about my adolescent sense of responsibility just because I forgot to cancel my reservation at a hotel in San Francisco ... I don't understand her when she's like that! Every once in awhile she flips and then raves about the damnedest things. I put up with it, though, because she inevitably softens up and becomes shy as hell. Fucks as though the world was coming to an end. That reminds me, let's set up the projector and see what this film's all about."
"That's a great idea," Richard said agreeably, thankful that Tom had ended the conversation about Wanda.
"Give me your glass then, and I'll make us a couple of real king-size drinks, enough to last us so we won't go dry during the movie," Tom said, filling the glasses to the brim with the expensive amber-colored whiskey. After he had finished, he came from behind the bar and walked up to the wall on the other side of the room, then pulled down the permanently-fixed screen. Meanwhile, Richard put to work his technical skill and began to thread the film leader through the complex of rollers and other appurtenances on the side of the projector.
"Boy, this sounds pretty wild," Richard brightened, holding up the flat black metal film case. "It's called believe it or not "Life on a Farm" ... Series Al."
"I know, listen, man, it's only because you're about my best friend that I didn't give it a preview first. But I thought I'd save it to see with you, because I'm one of those boorish bastards who's always telling people what's coming next. You know, when I've seen a movie before anyone else ... I can't shut up."
"Well, don't feel guilty. I'm the same way. But come on, the hell with talking ... Why don't we see if the star can really be a farmer?" Richard was feeling his drinks, but more than that, he was at ease with himself because of Tom's obvious ignorance about the good banging he had given his wife on the night of the party at his house.
"You don't see me hiding my eyes," Tom slurred. "Go to it, turn it on Roll em!"
Richard nodded and flipped the switch at the back of the projector. They both tilted up their glasses for a drink, as though to steel themselves for the thrills to come. They squirmed on the bar stools to secure better positions as they leaned back with their elbows on the rolls of leather at the edge of the bar.
First, there was the usual montage of black slashes and numbers on the screen. Then the clattering of the projector ceased and the title appeared..."Life on a Farm", produced and directed by Angus Leach-A.L. Production. Two girls were on stage with a large black goat in what appeared to be a jungle scene. Both were naked. One girl was seated in the bowl of a huge rock with her head thrown back, her identity obscured by the camera angle and the other girl's lush form. The goat was mounted on the rock with his forefeet just outside the seated girl's thighs. The foremost girl knelt and began to manipulate the goat's genitals. When the beast's cock emerged from his sheath, she took it fully into her mouth and began to suck and draw on the hard wet length.
"Jesus, look at that!" Tom huffed. "Wanda was right when she said this was a winner!" He was already engrossed in watching the film when Richard turned to nod his head up and down in appreciative agreement.
The passionate animal was close to orgasm. The pretty blonde girl seemed to sense it and pulled the creature's humping buttocks forward to better facilitate his lewd thrusts into her mouth. His buttocks quivered and he drove faster, faster, until the girl's cheeks bloated with his dense flow of sperm. She swallowed in rapid succession, still sucking obscenely at the thick shaft to withdraw every last ounce of cum she could. The sticky white liquid dribbled out from between her lips, down onto her chest. Exhausted, the goat dismounted the rock and was led away by the blonde. The other girl's lower body was then exposed. The camera moved in for a close-up of her ivory buttocks and the moist, slightly-parted cleft of her hair lined cunt. She wriggled down deeper into the hollowed out space in the rock and spread open her legs, showing more clearly the area of her pussy and the dark ring around her ass-hole.
There was a tiny birthmark on one half of the girl's buttocks. That was clearly visible.
"Holy shit!" Tom bombed, "I can't wait to see how they top that." Richard remained quiet, somewhat distant as he studied the screen.
While the girl on the rock waited in readiness, the blonde led up a second goat, blacker and huskier than the first. At the gentlest prompting, the big brute reared and took a sound position between the prone girl's thighs. The blonde fell to her knees and once again stimulated her charge by masturbating the sheath encased penis of the animal to erection. The long knobby cock slid inch by inch into view ... As the blonde stepped away, the seated girl raised her head to watch the goat's organ split her throbbing cunt and ram into her. Her lips were parted, her pointed red tongue clenched between her teeth, signifying the degree of her lascivious joy at this debasing act.
"Good God, it's Grace!" Tom cried dumbfoundedly. Immediately, he reached behind him to shut off the projector on the bar.
"No, let it go," Richard said softly, his face ashen, his body shaking with the force of barely-concealed emotion. The two men stared at each other for a long painful moment, then Tom began the machine again. The whirring sound was painfully loud, the picture as clear as a bell.
The intensity of Grace's crazed lust increased as the goat banged harder against her, sinking his inflamed shaft further and further into her willing vagina. She grimaced as the thrusting cock tip gouged her cervix and sent delicious waves of pain and pleasure through her. She caressed the wide base of the cock at the peak of each of its lunges into her, her hands drooping to fondle the balls below it at the back-stroke.
Richard was transfixed, his mind afire with fury and shock. Slowly, dimly, the initials "A.L." surfaced on his consciousness ... Suddenly it came to him, A.L.! The bank book hidden away under the books, the money ... His wife was a whore, a sneaking slut! The realization broke like a tidal wave throughout his tensed body. He turned to look at Tom, hoping his friend would somehow know the real depth of agony and embarrassment he was feeling. But Tom was thoroughly absorbed in the depraved exhibition on the screen. He bristled anew at the sight of Tom's meaty hand rubbing the pronounced lump jutting up from the crotch of his pants. His best friend was turned on, actually hot at the most humiliating moment of Richard's life! Fighting with himself, Richard faced the screen again.
He could barely focus his eyes, but had to. Grace ground her cunt up to meet the beast's hard driving cock. Her pleasure-wracked body twisted and writhed as the dumb animal fucked into her hot, hungrily milking vagina like a jack-hammer. And she liked it!
"Man, look at her go!" Tom yelled, his hand now plunged down inside his pants, pulling at his cock without shame. As Richard watched, horrified, his excited neighbor began to buck uncontrollably on the stool, holding his penis as it spewed gush after gush of cum in the crotch of his pants.
Richard turned again to view the lustful coupling on the screen and saw the crazily fucking goat was cumming deep in Grace's belly. Her face was pinched and her nostrils were flaring from the effects of her own ecstasy. My God, he had no idea she could ever get that excited ... and over a dumb animal!
CHAPTER TEN
The three girls sat cozily around the round table in Hollie's kitchen, sipping the last of their coffee and chatting about incidentals. The main topic, the argument between Wanda and Grace, had long ago been settled. They had both apologized and were now feeling repentant for the harsh words they had exchanged. Only Wanda was not truly relaxed. She kept glancing up at the clock on the shelf over the cabinet next to the sink.
"Don't you think we ought to wind this up?" asked her friends. "It's getting late and besides, we'd better not let Tom and Richard get the idea that we've abandoned them. "As usual, you're probably right, Wanda, I dread facing my husband though ... I can't remember when I've ever put his dinner in the oven, with only a note to explain my whereabouts and why he has to eat alone."
"Now stop worrying, Grace," Hollie admonished. "After all, you and Wanda are the ones who've been telling me to break loose and start thinking about myself. Well, I've done it now, and it's only right that I give you back some of your own advice."
Grace smiled broadly and drained the last of her cold coffee as Hollie rose to put away the cream and rinse the dish that had been heaped high with cookies and candy. For the first time since her hostile encounter with Wanda, Grace was thawing emotionally and looking upon her break with Angus as a boon and not the repetition of hopeless failure that had been the story of her life. Hollie turned toward her two friends, sighed and excused herself: "I'm sorry, but I've simply got to go to the bathroom before you leave."
When their hostess had pulled the door to the bathroom and turned on the faucet, presumably to drown out the sound, Wanda pushed aside the ashtray in front of her and leaned forward toward Grace.
"Grace, no matter what you may think of me after tonight, let me say I'm sorry. You don't know what I'm talking about as yet, but just try to chalk up what's coming to old Wanda's damned foolishness. Anyway, forgive me..." Wanda's eyes were filled with tears, long streaks of mascara running down her cheeks.
Grace was overcome with the sincerity of Wanda's plea, still not aware of its meaning nor the force of her friend's remorse. She was on the verge of replying when Hollie breezed in, her colossal breasts still bouncing even after she had come to a halt in the doorway.
"What's wrong?" Hollie asked, taking in the somber expression on Wanda's face. "Did I barge in at the wrong time again?"
"No, never mind," Wanda said, quickly composing herself. "It's just that I'm tired and want to go home, now."
"Yes, I suppose that's a good idea. I'm tired too. Plus, I haven't seen my husband since early this morning. He's going to kill me, I'm afraid, because I had the nerve to take off with hardly any justification."
The three girls rushed around the kitchen, cleaning up and avoiding each other's eyes. When the silence was no longer bearable, Hollie broke in with a giggle and said, "Tom asked about you today, Wanda. He was really concerned about your state of mind. He told me to warn you that he might drop by some day soon. He was only kidding, of course."
"Of course," Wanda said. "That will be a surprise."
Wanda and Grace invited Hollie to join them for a night cap and walked down the block to Wanda's house. Tom had just returned from the bathroom when the two wives and Hollie walked into the play room. The women knew at once that something was wrong, there was an atmosphere of discomfort and hate filling the room. Richard was still on the stool, staring down wordlessly at the floor. Wanda moved quickly to the bar and turned off the movie projector, which had played through the film some time ago and was then casting only a stark white blankness on the screen.
"You knew, didn't you?" Tom asked in undertone. Wanda did not answer and continued to stare away from him, her expression a confession of guilt. "You knew, didn't you?" he asked again, his voice rising in anger.
"Yes, I knew. I'm sorry, please forgive me." Wanda sobbing openly fled from the room.
"What's going on here?" Hollie blurted out. No one answered the untimely question, the tenseness in the air reigned on, uninterrupted except for Tom's shame-faced retreat to the bar to fix himself another drink.
"Anyone for a nightcap? ... Richard?"
Grace turned to watch Richard's reaction to the question, but there was none. He simply looked down, his eyes glassy and remote, his lips curved sneeringly as if he were thinking of some naughty private joke. She knew the look, had seen it on numerous occasions when some major disaster had affected him.
"Richard, I'm sorry too," Grace said. "I know you're angry with me, but listen..."
"Be quiet! Just be quiet!" Richard whispered.
"But I fixed your favorite casserole for dinner. Wanda and I, oh please, I'm sorry I wasn't home!"
Hollie mustered her courage and stepped up to Richard. "Let's all have that nightcap Tom offered." Still, no one moved or made any indication that Hollie's newfound self confidence was worth even the least attention.
"Tom, I fucked your wife. I fucked her in her pussy, Tom, and I think I'll fuck her from now on, every time you're out of town." Richard's black eyes twinkled almost gaily as they searched from face to face to appraise the effect of his words. "Why, Tom, old buddy, what's bothering you? Don't tell me you can't handle the truth about your hot pants little wife. You don't actually think she sits around here with a pillow over her pussy dreaming of you, while you're gone, do you?"
"Richard, hadn't we better go?" Grace asked softly. "We can talk this over at home."
"Yes, of course, my loyal little Grace, my industrious little wife. Of course we can talk this over at home. For that matter, we can sit down over a nice hot cup of coffee and decide what we're going to spend your hard earned whore money on, but you'd best consult Tom, before we make any decisions. Right? He's fucking you too, isn't he? Oh, I almost forgot! Oh, I almost forgot! Angus Leech should have a say too, shouldn't he? He helped you to stardom, didn't he?I've always wondered what it would be like to make love to an actress. They say it's pure hell, but now I know that's a lot of shit. You've been wonderful, love, just wonderful.-No trouble at all, but then, even I can understand why. You haven't had the difficulties an actress normally has, no husband to interfere with your performances, no fans milling around outside your door, yelling for autographs. None of the legendary hassles beautiful actresses usually have with press agents and gossip columnists. God only knows, from what I've seen, you don't need a psychiatrist to figure out your sex problems. It's all quite simple. We'll buy a farm and stock it with big black goats, maybe, and bulls. And chickens. Have you tried roosters yet, Grace? I'll bet my last dime that they're great too-one of your better lays ... I would imagine."
"Oh please, this is scary, please stop!" Hollie whimpered, the meaning of the tension finally starting to penetrate her innocent understanding of the circumstances.
The young girl's plea stabbed through Richard's consciousness like a bolt of lightning. He whipped around his head to locate the source of the voice, gave Hollie an apologetic smile, then took Grace's arm to leave.
"We'll be seeing you around, Tom ... I guess."
With that statement Richard took Grace's arm and ushered her hurriedly out the door. They had a lot to talk about this night and he was going to get some reaction from her even if he had to fuck her to death. That's exactly what she deserved, a good hard Fucking, by God!
* * *
At home, Grace and Richard undressed for bed, their mutual silence hanging like a pall in the air. There was no doubt now that he knew where and how she had earned her extra money. And he had publicly admitted his infidelity with Wanda. If only he would unbend; if only they could sit down and talk over their marriage, the events of the last month, the killing distance between them.
"How many men have you been fucked by Grace? How many cocks have you had up your sweet little cunt? Tell me!"
"Richard, I think we're both too upset to discuss this rationally. Tomorrow's another day and all I can say right now is that I'm sorry. I did what I did for you, for us, to help us out of the financial rut we've been in for years."
"Aha!" Richard howled, his arms extended, the nasty sneer he had worn earlier returning to his face. "I thought you'd at least come up with something more imaginative than that."
Grace chose not to acknowledge his last remark, knowing that anything she said would simply incite him to further anger. She went on undressing in silence, peeling her thin pink panties down over her still exquisite buttocks, shedding her last defense against total vulnerability. Turning, she saw that Richard was also naked, standing beside the bed with his hands on his hips, his eyes gleamingly fixed on her ivory buttocks where, a moment before, the telltale birthmark had been exposed to his burning gaze on the screen.
"Come here, love," he demanded softly, as he eased himself to a prone position on the bed. Is your little cunt hungry, or did you get yours already today? Come over and sit with Richard, your husband, the one with all the legal privileges, or had you forgotten?" A thin cruel smile played across his lips as he patted the edge of the bed beside him.
Hesitantly she stepped over to the bed, watching as he stroked the rock-hard length of his pulsing rod. "Richard, please, you must believe me. I only did it for the money ... I mean-" she began as he reached up to jerk her down beside him on the blanket.
"Ah, my thoughtful little wife whore. Well, now let's see what you've learned in your recent travels," he snapped. "If you're good enough, I may even pimp for you." His hand snaked out to twine into her hair, twisting it painfully around his fingers as he pushed her face down toward his belly. As she tried to pull away from his agonizing grasp, he snarled. "What's the matter, baby. Do you only do it for cash? I'm your husband remember?"
Grace felt the smooth blood engorged head of his lurching cock pressing bluntly into the soft skin of her cheek. Straining to turn her head up to face him, she pleaded. "Please, Richard, don't do this to us. I love you." With a bestial grunt, he pushed her down again and heaved his pelvis upward, lodging his thick, aroused cock between her yielding lips.
She tenderly kissed the tip of its head, then took it into her mouth, accepting as rightful whatever humiliating abuse he would subject her to. Her tight lips moved slowly down his cock, her tongue working persuasively as she lowered onto it, tasting the pungent tang of his viscous cum seeping from the tip.
"Oooh, Grace!" Richard groaned as the warm elastic pressure of her lips and the skillful darting of her pointed tongue caused him to stab his distended column deeper into her mouth, forcing it toward her throat like a throbbing, aching wand of pleasure.
Christ! He loved her! Right at that moment he was certain of it. She was his wife and, besides, no one had ever sucked his cock like this before. "Suck it, God, Oooh! I do love you!"
Her heart leapt as she heard the words rasped breathlessly from the lust-contorted lips of her husband. Holding his penis in one hand, she eased down on his loins, beginning to draw it steadily up and down through her open lips, twisting her tongue at the peak of each stroke.
As he raised his head to watch, the sight of her lovely cheeks, bloating and hollowing with each thrust, drove him to a greater frenzy. She gasped and sucked harder as he began a rhythmic pounding into her mouth, brutally crashing the huge muscled cock against the tender tissue of the back of her throat.
"Oh, baby, I love you ... love you," he whispered hoarsely as the glans of his hardened penis pulsed maddeningly beneath her tongue. Her breasts quivered and billowed below her buffeted torso as he slammed his groin into her face, fucking her receptive mouth with his straining rod of hardened flesh. His cock felt ready to explode, the pressure in his pulsing balls building to a bursting point.
He writhed his buttocks, pulling her head down to engulf his fiery organ as he felt the white hot stream from deep in his bloated testicles mounting the length of his rod to explode in jet-like streams far into her throat, filling her cheeks as she gulped wildly to swallow it all to keep from loosing a single drop.
With a last massive thrust, he emptied a torrent of the fluid into her mouth, watching amazed as she greedily drew out the last dregs of sperm still caught in his shrinking penis.
He fell back onto the bed while she lay contentedly across his stomach, cradling the limp organ in her warm palm and stroking it gently with her other hand.
"Darling, darling, you're wonderful! You don't know how happy I am now," Grace said softly.
Richard was silent for a moment and then said, "Grace, I couldn't believe it when Tom ran those movies! I couldn't believe you could possibly get into that kind of thing ... but I have been thinking ... I guess our lovemaking hasn't been all that great, has it? Both of us have needed to learn a lot, about ourselves. I love you and have always needed you, but it's taken all this for me to realize how desirable you really are to me: Honey, now I know that you've wanted me just as much!
And now I'm sorry that Wanda and I had an affair at the party and I..." he faltered.
"Sshhh, darling, I'm not sorry at all now ... you and I have both learned something by being with other partners. I thought that I was not a good wife to you ... I thought that I must be frigid, but after all of this and tonight with you, I know I'm not! I did enjoy it with all those others! I could just imagine that it was you fucking me and I would go wild!" Grace explained.
"Grace?"
"Yes"? she answered.
"I love you very much, and let's start all over with our marriage. We'll be newlyweds again and learn all about our needs and finally make love like we could have been doing these last few years!" Richard went on excitedly. "What do you think of our moving away from here and starting all over again? I can request a transfer from the company and I am sure it can be arranged ... would you want to?"
"Oh, Richard, yes I'd love it!" she squealed happily.
"It's settled! I'll set it up the first thing in the morning. Now, let's get down to business, I want to give you the fucking of your life!
"Darling, you have got a deal!"
* * *
Then, with a low groan, Richard began massaging her lushly ripened breasts, rolling the nipples between his skillful fingers and caressing the sensitive areolas with the palms of his hands. Grace moaned up into his hot mouth. She wanted to respond to his advances on her sensitive flesh. The gentle playing of his fingers on her tingling young breasts sent burning waves of unbridled lust racing down into her quivering loins. Her control vanished like ice before the heat of her passion, and her groans gradually became moans of ecstasy.
Grasping the twin mounds of the young woman's ripely rounded buttocks in his outspread fingers, Richard pulled her beautiful young body still tighter up against his hard aching cock. He could feel her soft breasts pressed against his muscled chest, the tiny rigid nipples like buttons pushing into his skin. Through her thin nylon gown he could feel her supple ass cheeks clenching and unclenching in an undeniable expression of hunger. Finally, his hand stroked lower to brush against the softness up between her thighs. He exalted at the feeling of the hot moisture of anticipation!
Slowly, willing to stop if she made any real sign of resisting, Richard insinuated his fingers under her gown and eased them down toward the silky mass of pubic hair in the hidden vee up between her thighs. As Grace stiffened with excitement, he stroked enticingly across her pubic mound, working his outstretched middle finger up into the moist heated opening of her cunt.
"Oh, Richard! Please! Yes, yes!" she gasped. Grace tried not to jerk her helplessly trembling loins away from his invading finger and, Richard continued to slip his finger in and out, deeper and deeper up into the tight confines of her hotly quivering pussy. And, in spite of her seeming reluctance, the young wife began squirming her clasping little cunt madly around on his outstretched middle finger, the flames of lust quickening with each ecstatic thrust up into her now wet pussy.
He slipped his finger further up into the tight confines of her moist pussy, and slowly began to increase the in and out fucking motion. Her hot cuntal fluids were flowing copiously now, and his finger slid easily in the slick moisture as he fucked in and out of her clasping cuntal lips.
"Oh, Ooohhh!" she screamed, sensing that her aroused body was now helplessly caught up in the sharp flashes of lust that danced throughout her entire body. Even as she protested, against her will, her unresisting soft, white glistening thighs were spreading farther and farther apart to give him complete access to her curl fringed cunt.
Richard's eyes feasted greedily on the shivering young body of his wife squirming hungrily in his embrace. Lewd pictures of what he was going to do next to this new born wife ran vividly through his head. Never in his wildest dreams had he expected to have Grace at his mercy like this. The way she was twisting in his arms, she was practically begging to get fucked like this. Richard had never seen Grace get so hot so fast and this was only the beginning of what he had planned for her sweet little pussy.
Suddenly, he could wait no longer to ram his impatiently throbbing cock up to the hilt in that hot fleshy hole up between her legs.
Grabbing Grace around the waist, he pressed her down onto the edge of the king sized bed. God! he wished he had done this to her before! This lovely wife of his was ready, at last, for him!
Pulling Grace gently down onto the edge of the large bed, he gradually eased her head back until she was lying with her long tapered legs spread out wide on either side of him, her calves hanging down with her feet flat on the floor. He was bending over her heaving form, his lips still fastened passionately to hers, and he could feel her eagerly squirming cunt grinding around in heated desperation up against his rock hard penis.
And then ... Grace never knew how it happened, she was rising up off the mattress of her own accord so he could slip her gown completely off! The cool rush of air over her exposed naked body sent thrills of pleasure running through her inner thighs, and she wantonly spread her long legs wider apart, offering her unprotected young pussy up to the mercy of his passionate gaze.
"Ohhh, God!" she moaned over and over.
"I'm going to take care of you, little girl," Richard told her. Dropping down with his knees on the floor between her widely spread legs, his face level with her slowly gyrating pussy, he could see the soft pink inner pussy lips contrasting with her white thighs glistening inches away from his hungering mouth. The lewd sight of her helplessly opened cunt made his cock throb with an aching desire, but first he wanted to put Grace at the peak of sensual ecstasy, then he would take his swollen penis out and plunge his long thick cock up into the depths of her quivering pale belly.
Placing the palms of his hands on either side of the moistly layered outer flanges of her aroused pussy, he eased her tiny cuntal mouth open. Richard moaned excitedly at the unbelievable succulent sight before him. The small pink hole of her desirous vagina was palpitating visibly up inside as if beckoning his tongue to fill her pungent little cuntal depths to the fullest.
A little at a time, Richard lowered his mouth closer to her nakedly exposed loins, thrusting his tongue out to probe teasingly at the tiny erect bud of her clitoris. He could feel the tickly softness of her shining pussy hair against his cheeks and the perfumed heat of her desirable cunt made his cum laden balls pulsate with desire.
From the first wet electric contact with her clitoris, Grace groaned and pushed her pelvis wantonly upward. But Richard leaned forward, holding his extended tongue pressed hotly against the tiny aroused clitoris of her cunt.
She raised her head and the obscene view of Richard's face buried up between her thighs and his raping tongue spearing deep into the sensitive wet walls of her pussy sent pure spasms of insane desire coursing wildly through her submissive body. She thought of all the years they had wasted by being so inhibited with one another, ... this was wonderful and she lowered her head back onto the bed, her mind and body spinning in a world of licentious gratification that she had never had with Richard.
He sensed the lust inciting effect his lewd ministrations were having on his wife's erratically trembling loins as her naked buttocks slowly began to rotate on the bed, screwing her wetly heated pussy up hard against his face. Her moistly clasping vaginal passage contracted, opening and closing tightly around the long smooth length of his tongue swirling deep around up inside her openly spread cunt. He listened to her moans and gasps growing in volume and intensity as he began tongue fucking her in earnest.
Now, her cries had become one long low ceaseless moan of pleasure as she jerked her legs up and his tongue dipped down into the narrow crevice of her light hued buttocks and licked lightly over her tiny puckered little anus. Then he ran his tongue back up over her pussy mouth, enveloping the whole hair line opening with the hotness of his lips, sucking at her wildly quivering clitoris with his hungrily sucking mouth.
"Goood! Soooooo goood!" Grace chanted, her body and mind completely out of control now from the delicious oral impalement of her hot cunt. He felt her feet scraping in rapture against his upper back, felt the muscles of her tightly flexing inner thighs tensing and contracting against his ears as he licked and sucked at her wide split pussy with a wild animal lust that threatened to drive both of them totally insane with passion.
With her wanton desire increasing with each wicked thrust of Richard's tongue up into the wide stretched opening to her womb, she thrust her hips harder into his slavering mouth. He worked patiently over her sweet, hair lined flesh grinding so passionately up against his sucking mouth and the abandoned young wife's soft inner vaginal walls trembled and gushed forth hot, liquid juices of passion from the never before attainable intensity of ravenous lust with her own husband.
Richard knew her impending climax was almost here from the unmistakable frantic rhythm building up under his skewering tongue, the gradually increasing tempo of her pelvic gyrations up against his face, and he knew it was time to give her what her hungry cunt wanted. Blowing lightly into her moistened pussy and flicking his tongue before him he reached down and began stroking his own stiffened penis causing it to throb in anticipation.
He wanted to feel Grace's pulsing cuntal softness clasping around his penis when she started that orgasm she so desperately needed, and he wanted to fill her hot little belly with his own boiling hot semen when that ecstatic moment came at last. His hard thick cock ached from having waited this long to put its lust stiffened length deep into her gaping hole, and he squeezed the glands between his thumb and forefinger to keep from cumming right then and there....
Abruptly, he lifted his wetly smeared face from between her shimmering thighs and stood up, levering his cock head down into position to fuck up into her widely spread cuntal lips.
"Now, I'm going to really fuck you," he said his voice husky with lust. "And this will be the best fuck you've ever had!"
At his words, Grace looked up from the mattress and saw between her outspread thighs at the massive length of the throbbing cock that was about to penetrate her throbbing vagina. It was huge! He had never been that swollen and hard looking before, and she didn't know how it would feel being fucked by Richard with his cock like that.
"Open up! Hurry! I'm coming in!" Richard grunted, as he flexed his buttocks to thrust forward into the hotly tantalizing moistness of her cringing pussy. "I'm fucking up into your hot little pussy!" the lust driven man muttered, shoving his lust thickened hardness farther into her widely stretching cuntal opening with his every word.
"Ohhh, its sooo niceee!" she whimpered.
In an attempt to ease the entrance, the impaled young wife reached down with her hands and placed her fingertips on either side of the piercing rod of hard flesh, pulling the curl fringed lips of her painfully stretched cunt to the sides to give his swollen penis easier access to it. Seeing her fingers close to his cock as it was slowly disappearing up into her moistly pulsing cunt was too lewdly exciting for Richard to bear, and, with one more heavy, cunt ramming lunge, he buried the remaining inches of his rigid rod all the way to the hilt inside her hot little belly.
"Aaaaaaggghhh!" she screamed.
"Oh Christ! What a tight little pussy you have!" He groaned above her, his eyes still fixed on the obscene coupling of their two struggling bodies. He could feel her nakedly rounded buttocks clenching against his heavily swaying balls, while the wet clasping walls of her pussy gradually began to accommodate his blood engorged thickness.
He held his pelvis tightly pressed into her pubic mound, waiting for her to plead with him to go on. Gritting his teeth from the unbearable ecstasy threatening to make him cum at any moment ... waiting, waiting for her to utter the words he knew she would eventually blurt out in her helpless passion. He had waited years for her to say them and he could wait a while longer ... maybe. His lust clouded eyes focused on her tortured lips, and he saw them tighten to form the longed for words....
"Oh, Richard, Fuck me! God, I need you so!"
With those words Richard could feel her hotly clasping cunt grinding eagerly up against the whiteness of his long thick cock in a lewd invitation for him to begin fucking in and out of her ecstatically rippling cuntal walls.
Slowly, he began withdrawing his wetly glistening cock from the moist softness of her inner cunt until only the broad cock head was left inside his clinging sheath. With a long smooth stroke, his thick hardness shoved her smooth pussy walls aside once more as his penis fucked back deep up inside her depths. A rhythm which brought low crooning sounds of pleasure from her desire constricted throat.
Gradually, he increased the tempo as he felt her slick cuntal fluids seeping in abundance around his deeply embedded hardness, and he fucked into her passionate pussy until finally he began to feel her tiny answering motions grow in intensity. Her vaginal mound jerked downward as he withdrew from her clasping pussy, trying vainly to hold him deep inside her. Richard moaned above her from the maddening sensations her movements sent bolting through his loins. "Keep fucking hard on my cock! like that!" he commanded.
"Ohhh, ohhh, harder! Fuck me harder!" she begged desperately, her head tossing in abandon from side to side. Her eyes were closed in rapture as she raised her legs up to lock her thighs around behind his naked buttocks as he fucked wildly in and out of her pleasure tortured vagina. The initial discomfort was gone now, and all that mattered was the thick pole of flesh that was fucking her so beautifully. Sprawled across her curvaceous body, Richard gave her what she was asking for, increasing the speed of his body racking strokes while her greedy little pussy fucked up and down on his heavily stiffened cock like a bitch in heat.
He wanted her twisting and turning under him when he finally filled her with his white hot sperm. She would be impossible to satisfy after this unless she was getting fucked exactly like he was doing now. Slowly at first, then wilder, until she would think her head was going to explode. He had the secret at last, from now on she was going to be fucked exactly like this ... like he had always wanted to fuck her.
Grace was reaching heights she had never known existed and she spasmodically flexed her pelvis muscles, the downward motion bringing her quivering clitoris into direct contact with the tip of Richard's hotly driving penis. This sent such thrills of sensual delight racing through her shamelessly aroused body that she did it again with each plunge into her. Grace's frantically shuddering cunt was now clasping around his cock shaft like a glove, and she could feel every blood expanded ridge of his hard plunging flesh as it fucked in and out of her hungrily devouring pussy like a piston gone mad.
"Oh yes! like that! Keep fucking me like that!" she whimpered up at him, her normal voice escaping her now with the intensity of her carnal pleasures. Her mouth hung limply open and her eyes were clenched tightly shut as her nostrils began a frenzied animalistic flowing in time to his mind shattering pelvic strokes, building her forbidden passion to a sharper edge as she screwed her lunging hips up and down beneath him. "Darling ... it's sooo goood!" the lust-drugged wife murmured again and again.
Her entire body was filling with an overpowering need to reach satisfaction, relinquishing all her inhibitions to the erotically tingling sensations running up and down her thighs. Irresistable sparks of pleasure seemed to light flames inside her clasping womb and flash madly through her veins. The sensations rippled through her cunt and out the dark hair lined pussy lips, dancing up across the surface of her heaving belly and blazing in her erect nipples until they felt like two red coals on her naked breasts.
"That's it, grind your hot little cunt up hard on my cock. like that!" he murmured breathlessly. He could feel the tiny rings of muscles inside her hot cuntal mouth tightening and nibbling around his hard penis. The widespread cuntal lips between her splayed out thighs pulled and sucked tantalizingly on him as he withdrew his lust hardened rod until only the bloated tip remained inside her wetly rippling cunt, then he slowly fucked forward again, feeling her nibbling vagina welcoming him as he buried the full length of his huge throbbing shaft deep up into her hungry cunt.
"Oh, Richard! Fuck me!" she cried.
Smiling in triumph, he took his hands away from her melon like breasts, and put them down under her nakedly thrashing buttocks to raise them up off the wildly squeaking bed. He watched in lewd fascination the slow withdrawal of his glistening cock, soft thin ridges of the girl's pink cuntal flesh clinging to his swollen penis as she screwed her ass cheeks down onto the softness of the bed. Sweating, he let her strain up and down beneath him for a while, a half crazed smile playing over her beautiful, slightly parted lips. Grace's movements became faster and the force of her thrusts pressuring up against his rigid penis became more and more urgent, her teeth bit hard into her lower lips as she strained to cum all over his heavily aching, ready to explode cock.
Her desperate young vagina seemed to be milking at his bursting rod, her cuntal juices flowed so freely now that he could hear the lewd sucking sound her hot little pussy was making as they fucked.
She arched her back up and thrust her cunt wildly up at his well muscled body, swallowing the huge expanded penis deep inside of her lusting body. Richard's hands were kneading at her glistening ass beneath until she was balanced back up on her shoulders, her thighs clamping his hips. With the fury of a madwoman, she began to fuck viciously now up to his impaling cock while he answered her by ramming his throbbing penis over into the hotly devouring furrow of her vaginal slit. His piston-like thrusts into her convulsing young cunt bumped his wife's head back and forth on the bed as she finally gasped out her shattering fulfillment.
"I'm cumming! Oooooohhh, God! I'm cumming!"
Richard was fucking into her now wildly churning cunt for all he was worth and gritting his teeth from the effort he was making. He could feel his heavy cum laden balls slapping repeatedly up against her quivering ass cheeks, and he heard her give out a low deep groan as her whole voluptuous body began to vibrate uncontrollably under his savage thrusts. Her hot gushing cum oozed out from her convulsing cuntal passage to flow around his hard long cock, before trickling lewdly down the crevice of her undulating ass.
He kept fucking into her as hard as he could, the strength of his rhythmic thrusts causing her legs to splay up and out to the side. Now that her wetly gaping pussy was completely vulnerable to his pile driving strokes, Richard rammed forward all the way up into her until his pelvic bones smacked hard against her pubic mound.
Then he simply went mad. Relentlessly he fucked his rigid cock in and out of her frantically moving cunt, smashing into her at a tempo that made her whole body begin to shudder uncontrollably a second time as the maddening cock of hard implacable flesh bored into her spasmaticly jerking pussy over and over, like a runaway car.
"Oh, you are a hot little bitch!" He hissed through tightly clenched teeth. Now he could feel his churning cum beginning to flow through his heated balls as they slapped harder and harder against Grace's writhing ass cheeks. He was about to explode ... but she was cumming again! She began screaming out her second orgasm, right on top of the first one and the third one was already building up in her insanely thrashing cunt.
His jerking cock expanded until he thought it would burst, and then he felt the machine gun burst of spewing semen begin deep in his bursting testicles.
"Here it comes ... I'm cumming too!" he grunted and strained above her.
"Oh, fill me! God yes! Fill me with your hot cum!" Grace gasped as she felt streams of burning white semen shooting deep into her clasping pussy.
"I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" he ranted mindlessly. "I'm filling your cunt with my cum!"
"I'm doing it again! Aaaggghhh!" she called to him.
The seeming endless spurts of cum spewed like hot lava into her convulsing young pussy as Richard groaned above her like an animal. Her rippling little cunt was clamped powerfully around his maleness as he gave one last deep lunge up into her warm belly, and held it there, spilling out the last thin jet of cum into her voraciously sucking pussy walls.
His knees were trembling from the force of the orgasm, and Richard watched his slowly deflating penis slip wetly out of Grace's cum filled cunt. Her long smooth legs dangled limply over the edge of the bed and her body gradually quieted to a stillness as the last ripples of her own orgasm flickered hotly around inside her and then quieted.
As Richard allowed his limp wet cock to withdraw from her steaming pussy he could see her well fucked cunt flutter slightly as a thin web of his white semen seeped out its still slightly quivering lips.
"Now I've finally done it, I've made a wife out of you. In fact I made a husband out of me!" Richard said quietly, taking Grace in his arms. "We have learned a bit about love making in the last few days and I for one am happy about it. We're going to have a wonderful life together from now on, okay?"
"Yes we will, providing you always make love to me like that! I didn't know you could be so good." she said with love in her eyes. "Richard?" she asked, "do you think that you will be able to get that job in another city? I hope so."
"Yes, I know it can be worked out with the boss. But Grace, before we move let's throw a party for our friends...."
"Oh, that's a great idea ... now let's see, we can invite Wanda, the Martin's, Hollie and ... well all of the neighbors! Maybe even Irish and Angus can come ... unless you would mind?"
"With a grin on his face he said, "Well dear, what's a party without those two...."
