Hundreds of Americans are something they wish they weren't. The husband who becomes the polished man of the world because his wife adores the high-society scene, yet would be the first to admit that a can of beer and Monday night football would be more fulfilling. The debutante decorated with elaborate coiffure and expensive evening gown who would rather wear cut-off jeans and sport long hair. The neighbor who belongs to numerous civic clubs and "worthy" organizations, yet is a beast in the kill-or-be-killed world of business.
The roles people play are numerous, maybe because so many have so much to hide-like their insecurities, their income taxes, a blight in the past, or their moral behavior. Hypocrisy-is it a way of life for too many? Is this truly the Age of the Great Pretender?
If it is such an age, then the housewife in this story is the epitome of all pretenders. She hides her carnal desires behind the mask of respectability.
HOT HOUSEWIFE is a novel of today's society-its people, its problems, its pretenses.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
Melinda's index finger disappeared inside her cunt past the last knuckle. She began moving it back and forth in a calculated rhythm. Then she moaned.
Even from halfway across the bedroom, through a crack in the door, I could see her clitoris standing in turgid erection from the stimulation to her pussy. It looked like a pink doorbell waiting to be pressed.
Her thumb became the instrument of clitoral indentation. In addition to finger-fucking herself, Melinda started gouging her body's most sensitive petal of flesh.
Now the moaning had changed to groaning.
No wonder. Two more fingers had joined the first one inside the mouth of her pussy. She was twisting them around along with stroking them to and fro, reaming herself out.
Hot cream was running out of her box, glazing her thighs. The overhead light made her sticky legs gleam like they had been waxed.
I couldn't believe I was watching this!
Yet, if the spectacle before me was such an impossibility, why was I hypnotized by it? Why was I unable to move a step, despite my continual assurances to myself that I was repelled by what I saw?
Right this instant, as I tried to tell myself this couldn't be happening, Melinda had become dissatisifed with three fingers shafting her cunt, and had added the last two-her thumb and pinkie.
Her entire hand was inside her drooling twat!
She balled her fingers into a fist. Incredibly she was fucking herself with it. Her pussy bulged in and out. With her hand buried all the way inside, her wrist resembled the shaft of an immense cock.
Why hadn't I just gone on my way toward the kitchen, where I was originally headed, when I'd passed Melinda's room? If I were doing the dishes now, I wouldn't know anything at all about her secret activity.
Yes, I'd still believe in her innocence. I wouldn't know that, at fourteen, she had the sexual desires of a woman. That my daughter had grown up without me even realizing it.
"Oooooooh, it feels so good," she sighed erotically. "So fucking good."
Her raunchy language shocked me ... But not as much as the sight of her clenched fist pushing further and further inside her foaming cunt.
However, the crescendo of shock had just begun. I realized that when Melinda cried, "Oh, Jesus, I wish I had a cock inside me. A big, thick hard-on!"
She whammed away with her fist. The sight of it plunging to the depths of her snatch made me wince.
That just shows you what a gap there was between my daughter and myself. The manacle of her five knuckles was merely an hors d'oeuvre to her. The harder she fist-fucked herself, the hungrier she got for something more.
With a loud slushing pop Melinda's five knotted fingers pulled out of her juice-spraying pussy. For a moment, before the labia oozed together, I was sure I could see all the way up to her ovaries.
She was reaching over to the nightstand beside the bed. I was breathless, waiting to see whatever it was she was going to extract from the drawer she was frantically pulling open.
I don't know what my expectations were. But, in my heart, I never anticipated anything like this.
Suddenly her hands were wrapped around an enormous rubber penis. It was at least a foot long. Down at the bottom there was a plastic base. When she pressed a button, the whole thing came abruptly alive.
Twisting ... buzzing ... vibrating.
The vinyl cock my daughter was clutching fervently was several inches larger, and twice as active, as any real cock I'd ever seen. The prospect of it penetrating her cunt shook me to the core.
Where had she gotten such a monstrous device? If I ever found out who had provided a minor with such an instrument of perversion, I'd make sure they paid and paid and paid.
Melinda's mouth was watering. Her breath came in short snorting gasps. Her complexion was a red flush of sweating arousal.
As though she were about to commit hari-kari, she ceremoniously lowered the ominous looking device to the center of her loins. Then, stabbing it between her spread legs, she abruptly impaled her cunt with it.
The buzz that had reverberated throughout the room changed to a muffled hiss as the phallic monstrosity engorged my daughter's gaping snatch. I could see her thighs shake and her pussy lips quiver as the thing vibrated unceasingly within her.
As she plunged it deeper and deeper up her spasming crack, Melinda excitedly twisted her legs into a pretzel. When she lifted them into the air in moaning joy, I could see the bottom of her slit gushing juice like a punctured cantaloupe.
Then, before my eyes, she was unmistakably coming. Having an orgasm. My fourteen-year-old daughter having an orgasm before her mother's eyes!
Her tits shook like jelly on a plate. For the first time I noticed how large they'd grown. They were like a grown woman's. The red nipples must have been standing in the air at least an inch.
As though she were reading my mind, Melinda threw her free hand over her chest and began rubbing her breasts. Pushing the pulsing mounds together, she seized both nipples at once and ground them together between her fingers.
Playing with her tits made her come even harder. She was so excited that saliva was running out of her gasping mouth as copiously as cream was drooling from her tightly packed pussy. By the time she finished, the bedspread would be a swamp.
Could this be my little girl? The pink bundle I'd brought into the world, who only a short time before had been content to play with dolls.
Where had the time gone?
All of a sudden I was confronted with a sexual being whose identity boggled my imagination. My baby was no more! She had a cunt. And it had hair on it. Thick brown hair that spread out to her thighs. Her pussy lips were thick and swollen with blood. The mouth of her cunt was capable of producing pints of sticky secretion.
She could come. Have orgasms.
She was doing it right now. Moaning and groaning. Twisting and writhing with sexual release.
It could just as easily be a boy's hard-on engorging her twat as a dildo. Fucking her ... making her squeal with delight ... twisting her naked body into a sensual contortion.
I felt like I didn't know my little girl any more. Didn't understand her.
Then, that feeling of loss was emphasized with the impact of a kick to the stomach. Melinda did something that made me wonder how she could be my daughter.
She yanked the dildo from her cunt. Spreading her legs so far it would have torn the ligaments of anyone without the suppleness of youth, she opened up the cheeks of her ass and flexed her anus into the open as completely as she had previously done her cunt. Her intent was clear even before she dropped the dildo a notch to her rectal rosebud.
Yes, I had to face it. Before my eyes my little girl was going to fuck herself in the ass with twelve inches of phallic bludgeon. I wanted to run to her. Tell her to stop. Not degrade herself like this.
But I couldn't.
I couldn't admit that I'd been spying on her, invaded her privacy this way. No, I had to stand back and watch in pain if I ever wanted my daughter to trust me again. Had to watch the serpentine head of the dildo snake its way into the vortex of her anal orifice. Burrow its way inside. Bury itself like a plug within the tight hole.
Then, inch after inch of penetrating shaft. One thick increment after another filling her narrow shit-pit. Making her ass bulge with hideous distention.
On the surface it looked like torture. The way the soft, puckering aureole around her asshole turned crimson and then purple ... and then black and blue.
I wished I could believe that. That my daughter was somehow an unwilling victim of this terrible act.
But the truth, of course, was to the contrary. And the evidence was easily found. All I had to do was look-and I couldn't help but look.
A crotch doesn't develop a rosy blush like the one Melinda had between her legs unless the owner is riding on the crest of a sensual wave. Steaming goo doesn't ooze from a throbbing pussy unless something very exciting is going on. Nor tits heave like rolling waves. And nipples harden like u miniature spikes.
I couldn't deny the truth. Melinda loved giving it to herself in the ass. Her whole body showed an appreciation.
"Unnnnhhhh ... unnnnhhhh ... unnnnhhhh," she grunted.
By this time the dildo was buried in her asshole to the hilt. It must have felt like it was splitting her in two.
I turned away. I couldn't stand it any longer. It was too much for me to bear. It was bad enough that my daughter was having sex with herself. But even worse, she was doing it to herself in the ass.
Not only had I never taken anything in my ass ... I'd never even dreamed of it! By the time I walked away from Melinda's bedroom door, I felt as if I were the one who was the child.
In the kitchen I tried in vain to wash the dishes. However, I had to stop when I broke as many as I'd managed to get inside the dishwasher. Finally, I fixed myself a cup of coffee, and smoked a cigarette until I heard Melinda leave her bedroom.
When she was out of the house, I returned to her den of iniquity. Looking back, I can see I was desperate to find some reason to explain the incredible scene I'd just seen. Something to make me believe that it wasn't my little girl's fault she had gone astray.
I didn't know what I was looking for, but I prayed I would find it. My intuition was correct. I didn't even have to search for it. Thinking I wasn't at home, Melinda had left the catalyst for her unspeakable perversion lying right out in the open beside her pillow.
It was a magazine. The most disgusting publication I'd ever seen. There were photographs of naked models performing sex acts I'd never even imagined. Where had she gotten such filth?
But the biggest shocker was near the back of the magazine. There, in bold letters, was an advertisement for a dildo. The picture in the right hand corner told me it was the same one I'd seen Melinda so expertly wielding.
Down at the bottom of the ad, a rectangle had been cut from the page. I didn't have to be very smart to figure out it was the order blank that my daughter had cut out and sent away.
I'd found what I'd been looking for. I was certain that this disgusting magazine was responsible for leading my innocent daughter astray. Without its existence, Melinda would still be as pure as the driven snow.
"How could this happen!" I blurted aloud to myself. "What is our society coming to?"
I threw down the magazine with disgust. If my child wasn't safe from this kind of filth, then neither was anybody else's.
I'd become convinced. Something had to be done if we parents were to save our children. It wasn't just my problem-it was every responsible citizen's.
CHAPTER TWO
Over the past few years I guess I'd sort of noticed the growing of explicit sexuality in the media, but I confess I'd done my best to ignore it. Absorbed with my role as wife and mother, I refused to believe that anything so unsavory could apply to the wholesomeness of family life.
But now, for the first time, I realized that the greatest threat to the family life to which I was so dedicated was this very obscenity I had ignored. It was clear that unscrupulous smut merchants were dead-set on pulling apart the very fabric of American life as I knew it. I didn't see how I could permit such an atrocity to occur without putting up a fight.
So-called adult book stores had sprung up all over the area recently. In my innocence I had hardly noticed them. Now, with my new awareness, I decided to cross the enemy lines and visit one, experiencing the threat to decency first-hand.
It turned out there was one of these garbage cans less than three blocks from where we lived.
Disguised behind a plain storefront, it operated right next to a corner malt shop that attracted droves of teenagers every day after school. No wonder it was so easy for Melinda to get her hands on such vile smut as I'd discovered.
I marched right in, any self-consciousness I might have felt held in check by my diligence of purpose. Still, despite my single-mindedness, I must admit that it was a struggle to inhibit my shock when I saw the kind of outrageous material the place was selling.
To give you an example, there was a magazine devoted to the practice of fellatio. On the cover, a pretty young girl had degraded herself by allowing a color photograph to be snapped of her mouth halfway covering a man's erect penis. I'm not exaggerating when I say that she looked young enough to be my daughter.
However, as bad as the cover was, the inside of the magazine was even worse. Each succeeding page seemed to feature a deeper and deeper penetration, until finally the turgid member was in the girl's mouth to the hilt. The man's hairy testicles were actually squashed against her chin.
Then, one picture after another cataloged the ejaculation of his sperm in her mouth.
It was really disgusting.
First her cheeks swelled up ... the corners of her engorged mouth turned up in a lewd smile. Her lips flew open ... the white semen came gushing out.
It was all over her. Spewing down her chin.
Flooding all over her naked breasts.
In the last photograph the wanton little hussy was actually smearing the slime all over her body. The filthy gruel was everyplace. She looked like she'd fallen into a vat of whipped cream.
Truly disgusting.
I slammed the magazine closed, and thrust it back on the rack. However, my anger was so intense that my aim was faulty, and I couldn't get the damn rag to stay put. Finally it fell to the floor.
"Somethin' wrong, lady?" a gravelly voice said from behind me.
I turned around and found myself looking at the attendant. I hadn't even noticed him until now. But I must say he fulfilled my expectation of the employee of such a place. Long-haired, unshaven, and dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans, as far as I was concerned he looked like he'd come out from under a rock.
"Somethin' I can do for you?" he asked as I glared holes through him.
"Yes," I snapped. "Give me an explanation that won't make me vomit why you're a party to marketing this ... this ... filth!"
He just laughed at me.
I burned all over from his mockery. The mirth of his response seemed more brutal to me than a physical assault.
For a moment there I was on the verge of caving in, running out of the place to get the fresh air I so desperately craved after the stifling sleaziness to which I'd just been exposed. Believe me, I'd have rather been in a sewer.
However, some steel in my will made me stay put. Instead of fleeing, I took a deep breath and decided to stand my ground.
Maybe there was no way a single person could bring the operation of this den of sin to a grinding halt. But, at least until I secured a broader base of support for my crusade, I could make this grubby man standing before me suffer the slings and arrows of my wrath.
"This magazine ... this rag," I pointed to the pornographic garbage I'd dropped on the floor, "is a disgrace to the human race. How can you stand to peddle such cancer?"
"How can I stand not to?" he shrugged. "Nobody will give me a job doing nothing else. I'm an ex-con."
I should have guessed he was one of society's outcasts. Who else but a bona-fide misfit would be a party to such a disgusting enterprise as this foul operation.
"Well, of course I pity you for having taken the wrong road in life," I told him. "However, I would think that a stretch in prison would have rehabilitated you to the extent that no amount of temptation could have lured you into a situation as morally criminal as this one."
"Aw, blow it out your ass, lady," he sneered. "If you're so high and mighty, what're you doing in this joint?"
"Just checking things out," I firmly informed him. "Just taking an inventory of how low standards in the community have really fallen while the so-called good people have been looking the other way."
"In that case," he grinned, "stop wastin' your time with those fuckin' magazines. Go in the back and drop a quarter into one of the peep shows and really blow your mind."
"You're kidding," I replied. "Surely you're not suggesting that you actually have something more disgusting than that unspeakable magazine."
"I guarantee it," he grinned even broader. "The third peep-show to the left makes that magazine you was reading look like the Old Testament."
"Bite your tongue!" I snapped. "I will not have you blaspheming the word of God in that manner."
"Shit, lady, I'll even spring for the quarter myself just to prove it to you."
He reached in his pocket and suddenly a glimmering coin flipped through the air and landed at my feet.
I hesitated for a moment, but then I stooped down and picked it up. After all, it would be an insult to spend any of my husband's hard-earned money in a place like this when the management was so eager to assist in digging its own grave.
With the attendant chuckling softly in the background, I slipped into the booth to which I'd been referred and dropped the coin into the slot.
A small rectangle lit up the darkness of the enclosure. All of a sudden I found myself watching a nude man and woman advancing toward each other from the opposite sides of the miniature screen.
The man's erect penis was immense. In real-life it must have been as large as Melinda's dildo. In other words, at least twice as long as my husband's member, the only male organ I'd ever known.
The expression on the woman's face made it clear that she was very excited by the enormity of her leading man's equipment. In fact, I had to admit, her response seemed so genuine that I was convinced it wasn't merely a performance for the benefit of her salary and the camera.
It was steamy stuff. My mind couldn't help but slip into the appropriate vernacular as the movie's prurient impact registered with me.
When they closed the gap between them, the woman took the man's prick in her hands and cradled it like it was a piece of priceless treasure. Then the camera zoomed in for a close-up and I got an even better look. The picture framed her hands clutching his cock and balls, while her mouth descended toward them.
Aghast, I watched as her red lips parted and slowly folded over the purple head of his hard dick. Even though there was no soundtrack, I could almost hear her slurping as she sucked inch after inch of him into her mouth.
When she had swallowed him halfway to his balls, the film cut to between her legs. For the first time I got a good look at her cunt, and it was dripping.
I could see everything. The folds of her pussy lips ... her pink clit ... the glistening juice pouring out of her gaping red gash. Framing it all, a riot of black curly hair coiled all over her crotch and creeped down her spread thighs.
Now the man's hand entered the picture. Immediately his fingers stuffed her slit and began pumping.
Abruptly the camera cut back to her mouth. In the interim she had devoured the remainder of his cock, and was now blowing him to the hilt. His hairy balls rubbed against her chin abrasively, her fair skin blushing from the scratchy pubic tendrils.
How could she take so much in her mouth, I wondered. It had to be trick photography. His hard-on was a foot if it was an inch.
But, then, just as I'd convinced myself it was an illusion, she began stroking back and forth with her lips. The huge cock moved in and out of her mouth, at one moment penetrating to the balls, and at the next exposed so that only the head was inside.
I'd been wrong. It was no trick. The huge prick was real, and she was actually sucking it as she appeared to be. How she kept from choking to the point of unconsciousness was beyond me.
My disgust was mingled with awe as I watched her oral expertise. Had she been an employee of a circus rather than an actress in pornographic films, she would have surely been a sword swallower.
The more I watched her breathtaking display, the more absorbed I became. To be truthful, the decadence imprinted on the flickering piece of film unreeling before my eyes had me transfixed.
I could feel myself breaking into a sweat. My thighs became itchy. When I uncontrollably rubbed them together I could feel a hot wetness trickling down between them.
Then, at the peak of my interest, the film abruptly stopped. Without warning, I found myself in total darkness, rapidly blinking my eyes and wondering where the picture had gone.
Reluctantly, I stepped out of the booth. To my astonishment I walked right into the arms of the attendant. He had been lurking right outside the booth.
"What's the matter, lady?" he spoke first. "You look all hot and bothered."
"The machine stopped working," I told him. "What kind of clip-joint are you running here, anyway?"
"Two minutes is all you get for a quarter," he informed me. "This ain't no film festival."
"And what if I don't have another quarter?" I asked, saying the first thing that came into my head to keep him from recognizing how agitated I'd become.
"Then you're outta luck," he grinned lopsided ly. "That is, unless...."
"Yes?"
"I feel like staking you for another two-bits."
Suddenly another quarter was plopped into my hand and he was giving me a gentle shove back into the booth. Without stopping to consider the implications of what had just happened, I dropped the coin into the machine and trained my eyes on the dark screen.
When the rectangle lit up again there was a long shot of the girl being simultaneously mouth-fucked and finger-fucked. The cock was down her throat so far that its head had raised a lump at the center of her gullet like the bobbing adam's apple of an adolescent boy. All five fingers were crammed up her pussy, spreading her labia wide enough to accommodate the man's forearm.
The couple went at it hot and heavy for several seconds, and then the girl pulled away from the guy. Removing his prick from her mouth and his hand from her cunt, she kneeled over on all fours and spread the cheeks of her ass. Suddenly an unbelievably explicit rear view of her wide-open pussy filled every bit of the screen.
Even though the projection surface was minimal, the close-up was so tight that her cunt seemed almost life-size. The way it throbbed and dripped in living color, I felt I could almost reach out and touch it.
And, then, when the camera focused on the pulsating pink nubbin of her clitoris, I actually did.
However, just as quickly as I'd placed my fingers on the succulent image, I pulled them away. Not, as you might imagine, because I felt the flat surface of the screen rather than the warm meat that filled my eyes, but because an alien force had protruded into the picture I had temporarily accepted as reality.
As big as life, the head of the man's cock descended toward the cunt from the top right hand corner of the screen. First its shadow, and then the ominous bulk itself. It reminded me of the Goodyear Blimp devastating the Super Bowl in "Black Sunday."
While I watched with bugged eyes, the monstrous phallus glided between the parallel lips of pink flesh that were the girl's labia.
Yes, he was fucking her. Plunging his prick into her cunt. Slipping inch after inch of love-muscle into her expanding love-canal.
When the penetration was complete, his balls came into view. They were clenched and hairy. Throbbing. Churning with the obvious manufacture of cum.
I held my breath as the frictional jogging of cock within cunt began in earnest. Whether I liked it or not, I was on the edge of my senses waiting for him to come. To fill her pussy with hot, steaming jizz.
I felt so randy. So horny. What this crudely photographed loop was doing to me was beyond belief.
While I watched the actress's body being ravaged, I gradually became aware of the condition of my own anatomy. It felt like I had ants crawling beneath my skin. My pussy was dripping like a leaky faucet. My throbbing tits chafing inside the cups of my bra, even my asshole was on fire.
Click....
The movie stopped, catching me breathless. Automatically, I whirled around. As if by magic, another quarter slapped against the palm of my out-thrust hand. I dropped it into the slot without thinking. Mercifully there was a flickering of light, and the film resumed.
Cock and cunt engorged my vision. Hard cock moving in and out of spasming, wet cunt. Cunt with turgid lips pliantly enveloping chafing phallic muscle. People fucking. Doing it to each other.
Since there was no sound-track, I invented the sounds myself.
"Ooooohhh," the girl moaned. "I love your big cock in my cunt. Fuck me harder ... harder!"
"Your pussy is so tight," the man said raspily. "Your tight cunt is choking my nuts."
The man's balls had tightened up against the base of his prick and were turning purple. One could only guess how much cum they had within them.
"Come in me!" the amplifier of my mind made her insist. "Fill my cunt with your hot jizz!"
I swore I heard him grunt, summoning the spunk from his loins.
My timing was perfect. All of a sudden his prick lurched in her twat, his balls jerked, and her hips buckled from the thrill. Within seconds the sides of her snatch were white with cream as the excess cum came pouring out.
I was so excited I had to twist my legs into a knot to stop the flow from my throbbing crotch. I knew instinctively that my panties were ruined from what was going on between my thighs. My pussy was wetter than it had ever been in my life and nobody had even touched me.
My arousal was so complete that my mission to the adult book store was forgotten. All I could think of was cock, and how badly I wanted one at this moment.
"Oh, Jesus, I want to fuck," I heard myself moaning. "Where is a cock to fuck me?"
Then, as the pussy juice dripped down my legs, I felt the air wafting against my ass as the back of my dress was lifted up and my panties pulled down. A thick projectile abruptly insinuated itself from the rear between my sticky thighs. Before I knew it the bps of my cunt were being stimulated by a rubbing muscular force.
It was a cock. A cock between my legs. Its head burrowing insistently now to get inside my cunt.
Bending over so my nose pressed against the image of the two people fucking on the screen, I opened my legs and let the stiff meat inside me. With shimmering satisfaction, I felt my pussy lips swallow the throbbing head and then close around the beginning of the fat shaft.
"Oooommmppphhh!" a male voice gasped gutturally from behind me. At least five inches of blessed penetration accompanied the grunting expulsion of air.
With my eyes right next to the screen, I imagined what I was watching was the image of what was happening to me. As far as I was concerned, I was witnessing the engorgement of my own pussy. All of a sudden I was an actress in a pornographic film, being deliciously pronged by my leading man.
"Fuck me all the way!" I implored. "Let me really feel your cock inside me!"
There was another "Oooommmppphhh!", and a minimum of four more inches of turgid cock-meat up my pussy.
"Ooooh, that's it," I moaned excitedly. "You're getting it now. Getting it in all the way."
A third "Ooooommmmppphhh!" and there were no more inches to go. He was in me to the hilt. I knew because his balls were squashing against my frantically aroused clit.
Instinctively I began wiggling my ass. The stiff prick twisted within me like a corkscrew. I was coming already.
Closing my eyes, I grooved deliriously on the sensations of engorging cock and sweeping orgasm. By the time I opened them again, the movie had blacked out again, but I didn't care.
Dropping to the floor on my hands and knees, I hunched over like a bitch in heat. The muscular body of a man draped over my back and rammed me with its phallic dagger until I was certain I'd be sliced in two.
"Harder ... harder!" I exhorted. "Give me all you've got!"
My body was filled with pumping cock. I was coming like crazy. I'd never known sex could be like this. In comparison with the genteel sex I had with my husband, this seemed like my very first fuck.
"Oh, it hurts," I whimpered joyously. "It hurts so good."
Then, incredibly, the cock in my cunt bloated an extra sudden inch. I knew exactly what that meant. He was coming.
Hot, scalding sperm was what I wanted, and I pleaded for it. "Come in me!" I screamed. "Come in my pussy!"
If my cunt was hot with just the hard-on in there, it was blazing once it was drenched with an abrupt blast of spurting jizz. Molten lava poured between my legs could not have been any hotter.
Almost immediately I could feel the excess gruel backing up in my fuck-hole and then surging from my cock-stuffed slit. It came spraying out from the intense pressure. I could hear it splashing.
Inside me, my orgasm was raging like a forest fire. My senses were burning up. Every shred of decency I'd ever possessed was charred into insignificance. I might as well have been a two-dollar whore in an alley rather than the upstanding wife and mother I'd thought I was up until now.
When the cock finished spurting, it pulled from my gash, releasing a floodtide of cum. As I fell to the floor with orgasmic faintness, my cunt was spewing hot liquid as though an artery had been severed at the crux of my groin. I wound up wallowing in a spreading pool of my pussy's fetid discharge, totally degraded.
Who knows how long I lay there on the floor of that booth. My incessant spasming blotted out all reality except for the thrill of prolonged orgasm.
For an indefinite period I was not the respectable woman I'd always thought myself to be, but just a mindless coming machine.
When I finally started coming around, it was as though I'd awakened from a dream. For several moments there, I had no idea where I was or what had happened.
Staggering to my feet, I wobbled out of the booth and into the open. The first thing I saw was the grinning face of the attendant. He looked like the proverbial cat who swallowed the canary.
I looked away, unable to face him. I'd never felt so humiliated and degraded in my life. I felt so low that as I left the store, I was certain I could have just slithered under the crack of the door.
CHAPTER THREE
It took me several days to sift it all out in my mind. Finally, though, I arrived at an unmistakable conclusion.
I had been seduced!
Not by the ex-convict attendant in the adult book store. Nor even by some long-repressed strain of lust lurking in my unconscious. But I'd been a victim nonetheless. An unwitting victim, I constantly reassured myself.
I hadn't really wanted to have sex with a total stranger. Not at all, I was increasingly certain. Some larger force had made me do it, so powerful in its strength that it was as potentially lethal in its own way as germ warfare.
Pornography! It was the culprit.
Like the Prince of Darkness, pornography had stepped out of the shadows, seized me, and as much as literally raped me. A gang of dope-crazed motorcycle thugs couldn't have done a more complete and brutal job.
Despite the horror of having fucked a man other than my husband, I became convinced I was on the right track. Obviously the battle against obscenity was one that had to be fought and won.
If this filth could do what it did to a morally upright person such as myself, then think of the damage exposure to it could cause those who were far more impressionable than I.
This smut had to be wiped out ... and now! There was no time to waste if we were going to save our young people!
I decided I would go see my minister to enlist his aid in the fight. Pornography was a deadly enough foe so that I needed every ounce of strength I could manage on my side.
The Reverend Worthington was always happy to see me because I was so active in church affairs, and our family was always a big contributor to the building fund.
"Well, well, Mrs. Edwards," he smiled. "What brings you here today? Is it already time again for the annual charity show?"
"No," I replied, as grim as he was genial, "that's not until August."
"Then what can I do for you?"
"Something about this," I snapped, anxious to get to the point. Hesitating not a second I reached into my purse and slapped a magazine on the desk between us.
The center pages opened because of the impact. The smile abruptly faded from Rev. Worthington's face and his eyes bulged from his head as he looked straight down at a two-page spread of a couple having anal sex.
When I'd first thought of it, I'd known showing Rev. Worthington the magazine was an extreme measure. But then I decided there was no virtue in beating around the bush. There'd be no further explanation needed of the fight we had to wage after the pastor got a first-hand look at the infection being spread throughout our community.
"W ... where did you get this?" he finally recovered his wits enough to gasp.
"At the corner newsstand," I replied without blinking. "It was right next to the romances."
I wasn't exaggerating for shock purposes. There was no need to. The sordid truth was far more shocking than anything I could dream up.
After the incident in the adult book store, I'd done some more research and discovered that smutty magazines and books were being peddled openly all over the community. Anyone could buy such material in practically any drugstore, supermarket, liquor store, or newsstand. We'd been wallowing in filth and hadn't even known it.
"Don't you see," I did all the talking while the reverend muttered incoherently, "this garbage available to the most impressionable members of society. I'm talking about children ... mental defectives ... minority groups ... senior citizens. I've come to plead with you to use the church to help put a stop to it."
He looked up at me with a blank stare. Then, like a zombie, he picked up the magazine and stared at it with round, unblinking eyes. The several drops of sweat that abruptly popped out on his forehead were the only clue as to what was going on in his mind.
"Well, what do you think, Rev. Worthington?" I insisted.
"Incredible," he whispered under his breath. "Absolutely incredible. I don't think I really believe this...."
"You'd better," I firmly interjected. "This material is available to anyone with enough money to buy it."
"Excuse me," he said in a trembling voice. "You'll have to excuse me."
He put the magazine down and buried his perspiring face in his hands.
"Is there anything I can do?" I asked, nervous for the first time in the interchange.
"No, that's all right," he answered. "I'll get myself a cup of tea ... maybe that will settle my nerves. Would you like one, too?"
I said I would and waited for him to return. Even before he re-entered the room I heard him coming because the tea service was rattling all over the tray he was carrying. By the time he came into view he looked like he was auditioning a juggling act.
"Say," I said, getting up from my chair, "maybe you'd better let me handle that."
I walked over to him and tried to relieve him of the tray. However, he was shaking so much that he fumbled the exchange. Suddenly I was drenched with hot tea.
"Christ, I'm sorry!" he blurted. Then, as if struck from above, he turned bright red.
"That's all right, Reverend," I consoled him, realizing how mortified he must feel to have taken the Lord's name in vain.
"Thank you for understanding, Mrs. Edwards," he breathed a deep sigh of relief. "There are many others in the congregation who would not be so compassionate."
As he said this, our eyes met. I felt as though I were looking straight into his soul and that we had achieved a deep communion.
"Here ... here...." he broke the lock of our gaze with nervous suddenness. "Let me help you clean yourself off."
Before I could wave him away, he was hunched over my midriff and brushing his hand down the front of my skirt. He was so tense I could feel his stiff fingers pushing through the fabric to pinch my skin.
Most of the tea had landed right on what would have been my lap had I been sitting down. That was where Rev. Worthington concentrated most of his feverish rubbing. Coincidentally, it was right at the point of my body where my thighs intersected to form the triangular mound of my pubis.
He was unknowingly feeling me up. And, although I didn't want to acknowledge it, my pussy was rapidly becoming soaking wet.
And not with tea.
"Please ... please, Rev. Worthington, I don't think you should be doing this," I stammered self-consciously.
"But I was the one who spilled the mess all over your dress," he protested earnestly. "I don't want your clothing ruined on my account."
"I'm afraid it's soaked all the way through," I told him. "I can feel it against my skin."
"Really?"
For some reason I added, "Yes, I can feel it against my thighs."
"In the crotch of your panties?" he asked so quickly that I failed to notice how bizarre a question it was.
"Yes," I admitted, "they're dripping."
"Let me see," he said, slipping his hand beneath my hem before I could respond.
Suddenly I felt his probing fingers forcing their way between the softness of my thighs. They lightly gripped my cunt, and then rubbed it around in the pressing palm of his hand.
"See," I bleated, anxious not to be misunderstood, "I told you it was wet."
"It certainly is," he answered. "You're soaking."
He twisted his hand against my throbbing cunt. I tried to control myself, but I couldn't help but shudder and moan.
"Am I touching you somewhere I shouldn't?" he asked coyly.
"No, no," I let it all hang out. "Please keep rubbing ... harder ... harder."
That was the signal for him to slip his hand inside my panties and began fingering my cunt in the flesh. My pussy lips seemed to leap out to meet his touch, lapping against his probing index finger.
By now neither of us needed to kid ourselves about any tea dripping from my twat. The sticky wetness oozing from between my legs could only be one thing-raw pussy juice.
He knew it ... I knew it. That's why he was rubbing my cunt ... That's why I was writhing with delight.
"Put your fingers inside," I begged him. "Finger-fuck me."
A pair of stiff digits breached my rubbery labia and settled in the tight canal of my pussy. When they began moving back and forth the ecstasy was blinding.
"Find my clitoris," I gasped urgently. "Rub it with your thumb."
As if I had to tell him. He couldn't have missed it if he'd tried. The turgid spike of flesh was protruding almost an inch from the folds at the top of my snatch.
"Mmmmmmm, that's it," I crooned as the fatness of his thumb smothered my joy-button. "My pussy is creaming all over again."
Gradually the strong feeling emanating from between my legs became overpowering. Eventually I could no longer stand under the exquisite strain, dropping to my knees while I kept the reverend's hand imprisoned at the crux of my thighs.
My eyes had been closed as I rode the peak of an orgasmic crescendo. When it temporarily abated before the surge of the next spasm, my lids fluttered open and I found myself staring straight at Rev. Worthington's crotch. His fly was taut with an enormous bulge.
He glanced down and saw what I was looking at.
"It's hard, Mrs. Edwards," he breathlessly informed me, as if I needed to be told. "I'm afraid you've made my penis as hard as a rock."
"Call it a cock!" I blurted impulsively. "It's more exciting when you call it a cock ... or a prick ... or a hard-on."
The obscenities rolled off my tongue like they were the only language I spoke. I was so horny I was totally unaware of how much against my character I was going.
"My cock is hard," he corrected himself. "I have a hard-on, Mrs. Edwards."
"Yes ... Yes?" I panted expectantly.
"And I want to fuck you with it. Right on my desk. I want you to get up there, pull down your panties, and spread your legs so I can stick my cock in your cunt and fuck the living Jesus out of you."
I was on my feet and hoisting myself onto the desk in an instant. Pushing the books and paper out of the way, I planted my back and ass on the green blotter and yanked my dress to my waist. My sopping panties were off immediately and I was prying my legs as far apart as they would go.
The smell of my randy cunt suddenly dominated the room as I thrust my exposed crotch into the open. Looking down my body to the vortex of my spread limbs, I could see my pussy flexing like a hairy fist.
"Please," I begged, "hurry up and get out your cock. I can't wait a second longer."
His hands dropped to his pants and had his fly open immediately. As his trousers and shorts dropped to the floor and he stepped out of them, nude from the waist down, his unsheathed hard-on twanged like an over-sized tuning fork.
"Your cock is enormous!" I gasped. "It's even bigger than it looked in your pants."
"Eleven inches," he said proudly. "It'll stuff your tight cunt until you can't take any more."
"Try me," I gushed, expanding and contracting my pussy muscles so my labia sucked provocatively at him.
Licking his lips, he went around to the far end of the desk and crawled up onto the top. Balancing himself on his knees, he inched into the enclosure of my splayed legs and aimed his prick straight at my hungry cunt.
Then, lurching forward, he stabbed cleanly into my cunt on the first attempt. The thick meat of his prick barrelled up my fuck-hole like a runaway locomotive.
When something spasmed deep within me, I realized hp had penetrated all the way to my womb. My uterus was convulsing like an interior cunt.
Yet, despite the magnitude of his insertion, he still had several inches of cock to spare. That's how big his beautiful hard-on was.
"All the way," I urged him. "Fuck me to the hilt like you promised, Rev. Worthington."
"You asked for it, Mrs. Edwards," he grunted, letting loose with all he had.
His final shove took my breath away with the same effect as a punch to the solar plexus. His balls searing against the bottom of my groin felt like a pair of hot coals.
Realizing I had him inside of me as far as he could go, I automatically lifted my legs and wrapped them around his waist in an unyielding lock of passion. Then, pulling him toward me, I forced his prick to twist within me like a high-speed drill. I felt like he was gouging a hole in me that would never close.
While I moaned with ecstasy, the reverend lowered his face to mine and covered my mouth with his lips. His tongue shot down my throat just as completely as his cock already had in my pussy. The hot soul-kiss made it seem like I was being fucked at both ends.
The only thing left to make the situation heaven on earth was for him to come. Recognizing that God helps those who help themselves, I set every sinew and muscle in my cunt to work in an attempt to wring his prick like a washrag.
It worked, of course. Even eleven inches of muscle-bound gristle couldn't resist the pressure of my ultra-tight pussy. My constricting twat would have been able to draw blood from a turnip. Pumping jizz from a hard-on that was on the verge of coming in the first place was child's play.
Probably all my squeezing effort just advanced his ejaculation a few seconds. But it was worth it since I would have probably gone crazy had his explosion been delayed even that short a time.
Because I wanted it. Sweet Jesus, how I wanted it. My cunt was thirsty for his cream.
Had to have it! Couldn't wait!
"Ooooooh, my God!" I squealed as his huge prick erupted right on schedule inside my twat. "It feels like you've got a fire-hose up there instead of your cock!"
"Maybe I do," he giggled, and then seemed to re-double his squirting. I couldn't imagine where he was getting it all.
Blast after blast of jism filled my fuck-hole until the canal could hold no more. As inevitably as death and taxes the overflow spilled from between my legs. Soon both Rev. Worthington and I were drenched with his cum.
There was so much spunk splashing around that I didn't realize he had stopped coming until he'd pulled his cock out of my pussy. As I peered at it through the crux of my spread legs I saw to my glee that it was still as hard as ever.
He could fuck me again immediately if I wanted it.
But there was no sense in concentrating all of the action in my cunt. Not when there were holes in my body begging to be screwed-most particularly my asshole. My hot, throbbing asshole. The tight orifice normally reserved for the one-day ferrying of shit craved a fuck more than my lungs craved oxygen.
"Do it to me in the ass!" I urgently hissed. "Fuck me in the ass, preacher!"
To accentuate my desire, I reached down under my thighs, gripped the spongy meat of my buns, and pried my butt apart. My asshole winked at him like the CBS eye.
"Are you sure you can stand it, Mrs. Edwards?" he asked considerately.
"What are you talking about?" I scoffed. "What more could I do to show how much I want your cock fucking my ass?"
"You've just never seemed the type in all the years I've known you," he said.
"Then maybe you didn't know me as well as you thought you did," I snapped impatiently. "I hate to tell you this, padre, but when a woman spreads her cheeks for you and offers her asshole, it isn't nice to ask questions."
"I guess so," he mused.
"Then stop gabbing ... and start fucking," I urged. "My asshole's spasming so much I'm about ready to shit all over your desk."
"Okay," he cast away the last of his doubts and grinned. Grabbing his looming prick, he began guiding it toward my pulsing chocolate orifice.
His prick was so big that there wasn't much of a gap to close between us. Just a few inches of descent found the head of his tool flattening sensationally against the ultra-sensitive ridges of my anus.
"Get it inside of me," I gasped. "Quickly! I want it so bad!"
Grimacing from the effort, he set to work trying to fit the over-sized cylinder of his cock into the narrow aperture of my ass. Every law of physics would have labeled the task impossible ... the law of uncontained lust made it a must.
"Do it to me ... do it to me!" I shamelessly begged. "Cram that monster in my ass!"
Then, the strangest thing happened. Upon the first inch of penetration I suddenly lost my nerve. No kidding, with the first feel of his cock within my asshole, I went as limp as a dishrag.
"I knew it," he declared to my utter astonishment.
"Knew what?" I muttered with galloping timidity.
"Despite your bravado, you've never actually taken a man's organ in your anus. You've a virgin rectum."
Oh, my God, he was right!
I'd been so carried away by sheer passion that I hadn't stopped to realize that my asshole was cherry. Not only had I never taken a cock up it, but I'd never even dreamed of it before I began my personal battle against pornography.
Lord, what further proof was needed as to the persuasiveness of smut? I'd been looking at so many examples of perversion since I'd begun my research that I'd started to take kinky sex acts for granted.
Once the truth had occurred to me I felt like I was in a trap. Although my conscience told me to turn back from the runaway lust I was sharing with Rev. Worthington, every nerve-ending in my body implored me to go through with the cornholing. If I didn't, it was a certainty I'd be a nervous wreck for weeks.
My body went hard again. Within me my asshole started working sexually again, spasming all the way to my colon.
"Fuck me," I laid it on the line. "Stop bullshitting and fuck me in the ass!"
He shrugged. "All right," he said, "you asked for it, Mrs. Edwards."
"I certainly did," I confirmed my choice. "Now split me in two, sky-pilot!"
The talking ceased. The only sound in the office was the skidding of the reverend's huge cock suddenly surging forcibly up my narrow shit-pit.
Sparks seemed to be shooting from my ass as he surged deeper and deeper. The effect of his massive hard-on forcing its way inside my slim anal orifice was the equivalent of metal striking against rock.
The pain was intense. I'd never had anything hurt so much....
Naturally I loved it.
"Mmmmmmm," I whimpered, "it hurts so good, so damn, fucking good."
He answered with an even deeper thrust toward my colon.
"Are you sure you can't make me bleed."
That was the signal for the good reverend to really turn it on. Whatever portion of his phallic bludgeon that remained outside my anus quickly surged inside. Then, buried within me to the absolute hilt, he began operating his monstrous hard-on like the jack-hammer it more closely resembled than an organ of the human body.
I could feel the impact in my molars as he battered away. Holding my breath in anticipation, I waited excitedly for my asshole to blessedly bleed.
I started to think of the prospective blood as a kind of anal cum. Perhaps I had no prick to shoot off liquid fireworks, but under the right circumstances my shit-pit could become a stew of bubbling ooze.
The tingling started. Multiple tingling. Massive tingling. One blood vessel bursting after another.
That sticky wetness can only be one thing. Blood! Hot, fresh blood leaking from my raw tissues and thoroughly lubricating the iron cock pumping like a piston within me.
My engine is greased. The fucking in my ass is perpetual motion.
Fucking ... fucking ... fucking....
Ass-fucking.
Jesus, I thought, where has this been all my life!
"Come in me!" I cried. "Come in my ass!"
A flood ensued. The banks of the Mississippi had been relocated to my rectum and were spilling over.
"Keep coming!" I implored. "Harder ... harder ... Drown me with your cum!"
The reverend did his best. I guess a man in his line of work stored up a lot of jizz in between breaking the Sixth Commandment.
Spunk poured out of my anus and spewed down my thighs. The green blotter on which we were lying was sure to be having the greatest test of its career.
There was cum all over the place. It was making the air humid with its steam.
The spunk that hadn't leaked out of my ass was swamping my colon. Turds were swimming in it.
"Oh, sweet Jesus, I love it!" I wailed, and then he finally stopped spurting. Laying back, I luxuriated in the damp after-glow of fucking.
I was not merely brimming with cum. I was also overflowing with confidence.
After this, Rev. Worthington had to cooperate with my plans.
CHAPTER FOUR
Together, Rev. Worthington and I mapped out a campaign to bring the smut-peddlers to their knees. Realizing that an orthodox approach probably would fail against such tricky, unscrupulous foes, we devised a plan of daring innovation.
Our strategy was two-pronged. While Rev. Worthington organized the congregation into a committee what would put pressure on local officials, I was going to be in the trenches gathering evidence on the wrong-doers. Working undercover, I would collect every piece of retail obscenity I could so we would have plenty of ammunition when it came down to the nitty-gritty.
When one of the Board of Supervisors skeptically asked, "On what do you base your charges?", we'd slap a few dildoes and dirty magazines on display.
If that didn't convince him, we'd really haul out the works. After we finished, the room would be full of garbage the Board of Supervisors would be ready to puke.
Throwing myself into the crusade, I made the rounds of the hard-core outlets, buying one item after another. The smirking attendants just assumed I was another wiggy chick as I stuffed my purse with my filthy purchases.
"Heh, heh," I would laugh when I got outside with my evidence, "if those bastards only knew what I was up to, they'd shit."
Then, after I'd hit just about every porno shop in the area, I decided to broaden my horizons. While glancing through the newspaper one morning, I happened to scan the classified ads and notice some peculiar entries in the "Personals" section. I decided to follow one of them up.
It was an escort service. When I called them up they said they'd provide any kind of escort I might want.
"For sex?" I laid it on the line, anxious to incriminate them from the outset.
"What else?" the voice on the other end chuckled. "What's your preference?"
I hesitated for a moment, searching for the right answer. If I wanted to get the goods on them, I had to appear as kinky as possible.
"A woman!" I suddenly blurted from some unknown fount of inspiration. "Could you get another woman for me? I'd like to make love to another woman."
"A dyke, huh?"
"Yes," I eagerly lied. "I'll pay anything for some new pussy in my life."
"It's yours," the voice promised. "Just tell us where you want the merchandise delivered."
Well, now that was a problem. I certainly couldn't have some promiscuous lesbian knocking at the door of the family home. I'd have to arrange to meet her someplace.
"The Ramada Inn on the highway north," I improvised. "Tell her to ask for Mrs....uh ... Smith's room. Mrs. Smith. Send her at eight tonight."
I still had some time to kill, so I drove to a Radio Shack outlet.
"Do you have an inexpensive tape recorder that could pick up people talking if it were placed, say, under a bed?" I asked the young fellow behind the counter.
"Sure, any of our cassette machines will do that," he smirked. "And while you're at it, lady, I think I know where you can pick up a reliable used Polaroid, too."
"Very funny," I replied icily, trying to wither him with my disapproving gaze. "Just wrap up the cheapest model and keep your slimy thoughts to yourself, if you don't mind."
Under the circumstances, I was given strength rather than embarrassed by his sleazy comments. His very suggestiveness added to the proof of the righteousness of my crusade.
People like him could only be redeemed if the influences which negatively influenced their thinking were wiped out. Somebody had to help them.
Together, the church and I would do just that ... at least in this community. The rest of the world might go up in the flames of immorality, but at least this would eventually become a decent place in which to live once again.
Armed with my new tape recorder as if with a sword of vengence, I sped to the Ramada Inn, anxious to set the trap. With this little baby, I'd get the concrete evidence I needed to present to the authorities that the boundaries of filth spread far beyond just the adult book stores and magazine racks.
Once in the motel room I'd rented, I slipped the device under the bed and coolly waited for a knock. As soon as I heard someone at the door, I'd activate the recorder, and every bit of vileness would be set down for posterity.
There was a knock at the door. Reaping up, I switched on the tape recorder. With everything set, I went to answer the door, embarking on a new chapter in my war against the pollution of souls.
"Hello, babe," a rangy redhead greeted me. "You the chick with the yen for pussy?"
Slipping into the role I'd chosen for myself, I told her I was.
"The wetter the better," I blatantly said.
"Groovy," she grinned. "I've been on the rag all week. I just got off today and my cunt is screaming for some action. I hope you've got a long tongue."
"Six inches," I picked a figure out of the air.
"Double groovy. Let's get started before the cream starts running down my legs."
Before I could invite her in, she pushed past me and marched straight for the bed. I hadn't even closed the door and she was hurriedly removing her clothes.
She was stark naked in less seconds than you could count on your fingers. Of course it wasn't that much of an accomplishment, since, under her dress, she wasn't wearing a stitch.
Falling onto the bed, she spread her legs and made her flexing pussy the focal point of her long, lean body. It immediately caught my attention, because, contrary to my expectations, she had naturally red hair.
The curls around her snatch were glowing. Her crotch looked like it was literally on fire.
"How do you like it, babe?" she asked.
"Oh, I love it," I answered in character.
"Then strip and get on top of me," she said impatiently. "If I have to wait too much longer in my condition I'll blow up."
Knowing that a moment's hesitation on my part might blow my cover, I lost no time in getting out of my clothing. Anticipating a requirement such as this, I'd also taken the precaution of not wearing anything underneath. Beneath my dress was nothing but bare skin.
"Mmmmmm, I love it, babe," the woman smacked her lips from the bed when she saw my naked body. "I'm gonna enjoy the hell out of having all that squirming around on top of me."
I moved quickly toward her. Deeply enmeshed in the role I was playing by now, I licked my lips according to type. H-O-R-N-Y was written all over me.
Practically diving between the redhead's open legs, I came to rest with my face only an inch or so from her crotch. I had a close-up of the best she had to offer.
What a pussy!
Her orange pubic hair was so saturated with dew that it was starting to lose its curl. She was wet, wet, wet.
The only thing more vibrant than her floss was the actual meat itself. The lips of her cunt were red, fat and glistening. At the top, her big round clit looked like a fat cherry.
The transformation of my character had been so complete that, instead of being repelled by another woman's cunt, I regarded it as a kid would an ice-cream sundae. It made my mouth water, and my stomach grumble from hunger.
There was nothing I could do but eat it. And eat it I did.
With one big lapping gulp, I spread the lips of my mouth over the lips of her pussy, and began my feast. As the cunt juice poured down my throat, I automatically shot my tongue up her gooey slit and jerked it in a fucking motion.
It was such a pungent occasion I didn't even stop to think that it was the first twat I'd ever tasted. It all came so naturally that I became an expert at muff-diving. I might as well have been doing it since I was a little girl.
"Let me feel those six inches you were talking about," the redhead said from above. "I'm starving for everything I can get."
Hurtling my stiff tongue with every iota of energy at my command, I practically ripped it from the floor of my mouth with the effort. The veins at its roots burned from the exertion.
"Six inches!" my tongue-infested partner exclaimed. "Jesus, what a put-on!"
Immediately I panicked. I was sure I'd slipped up. Had I blown it?
"Six inches," she scoffed again. "Wow, I don't see how you could say that."
My heart stopped beating for a moment. Then, when it recommenced, it was pulsing up in my throat.
"Jesus, your tongue is eight inches if it's a tad."
Did I hear her right? I prayed for her to repeat it so I could be sure.
"Eight inches!" she demonstratively satisfied my desire. "Eight fucking inches! God, I've taken plenty of hard-ons that couldn't come close to the equipment you've got in your mouth, babe."
It was like words from God. Like He was personally telling me what a terrific job I was doing getting the goods on the sinners in our community. It was as though my pussy-jabbing tongue were an instrument of the Lord.
Now all the stops were out. I whammed away, licking the interior of the redhead's twat to the hilt. If it was possible to taste another woman's womb through tongue fucking, then I was surely doing it.
When she started to come I had never felt so proud in my life. While she writhed against my mouth-connection, I knew that my erect tongue had performed as well as any man's cock could have done.
Yes, I had made another woman come like blazes, and it made me very happy. And naturally made me wonder if she was capable of doing the same to me.
"Could you make me come, too?" I asked, after her orgasm had cooled down enough for me to get through.
"You got it, babe," she eagerly replied. "Just swing around on top of me and we'll sixty-nine."
It sounded erotically delicious. However there was only one problem . ... I didn't know what she was talking about. Sixty-nine? ... What was that?
"Hurry up, babe," she urged me. "I'm dying to start dipping into that cunt of yours. I'll bet it's as juicy as a T-bone steak."
I only had a split-second to determine what to do. Any longer than that and she might catch on that I wasn't the swinger I pretended to be.
Sixty-nine ... sixty nine. The number tumbled over and over again in my mind. What could it mean? A six ... and a nine. When you turned them upside down, the nine became the six, and the six became the nine.
Of course!
It was like a bulb had suddenly lit in my head. The two love partners were the numbers. The top of one meshed perfectly with the bottom of the other, and vice-versa.
I was supposed to suck her cunt while she sucked mine. How ingenious!
Taking to it like a duck to water, I swiveled around on her body. The slurping of my mouth filled my ears as my tongue twisted deliciously inside her damp cunt.
The first touch of another woman's nibbling lips against the petals of my twat was sheer heaven. Being of the same sex, she knew exactly what to do. I was so glad it was a female mouth between my thighs.
Her teeth found my clitoris and got the most out of it right away. Right from the beginning I began coming. If this was the start, I couldn't help but wonder how it would all wind up.
In the meantime, I kept jabbing her to the hilt with my ever-active tongue. I prayed she would get the message that I was lusting for her to reciprocate.
I couldn't have sent a telegram and gotten any better results. She read my oral plea perfectly and got down to business.
"Ahhhhhh!" I let out a blast of air into her muff as her tongue attacked my slit.
Her oral prong was hard as a rock. More erect than my husband's prick had ever seemed to be in the marital bed. Within seconds she was fucking me with it to the absolute fare-thee-well.
Had she said I'd penetrated her pussy eight inches? Well, she was matching my effort, and I loved it.
There was easily two-thirds of a foot of hard tongue inside my spasming cunt, and its frictional motion was making me come harder than I ever had in my life. Later I might be ashamed to admit this, but right now I was glorying in the fact that she was giving me a more intense orgasm than my husband had been able to do in years of respectable marital love-making.
It was easy to see why this illicit sex had so much appeal. There was no restraint when the human body was opened up sheerly for the purpose of pleasure. There was no inhibition to getting it on. The fact you didn't know the person doing it to you seemed to open sensual doors that had been closed for a lifetime.
I must have sent quarts of female cum down the redhead's throat. And, at the same time, I thirstily swallowed at least the same quantity of her gooey juice. If pussy juice had calories, the next time I stood on the scale I'd find I'd gained five pounds.
Then, just when I thought our coupling couldn't be any more sensational, my lesbian lover's tongue surpassed itself. Pulling out of my twat, it moved a notch and began tickling the ultra-sensitive ridges of my asshole.
Needless to say, I carbon-copied the performance. When she tickled my anus, I did the same to hers. Throughout it all I hoped mine tasted as excruciatingly sweet as hers.
Then the tip of her tongue penetrated my shit-pit. Naturally, I followed suit immediately.
In tandem, we forced inch after inch of solid meat inside our respective assholes. The deeper the insertion, the more pungent the taste was.
My first oral experience with another woman's ass was even more delectable than my first taste of cunt. By the time I had probed so deeply that I was actually lapping against a chunk of shit that was caught in my lover's rectal canal, I thought I'd pass out from the sheer ecstasy of it all.
Finally, after long and hard effort, we each made it inside the other to the hilt. Eight inches of swollen tongue throbbed within each tight asshole.
I felt her contractions first. Then, right on cue, mine began.
Spasming even more violently than our cunts had, our chocolate tunnels went wild with release. Yes, yes, we were both experiencing anal orgasm at once. Coming, coming, coming in our asses.
In my married life I had only rarely reached climax in the normal region of my cunt. Yet now, incredibly, after already having felt it in my pussy, I was having it happen all over again in my ass.
I couldn't help myself. I was a slave to it-a slave to the pounding climax in the constricting hole of my butt. A slave to the anal tightness squeezing my tongue.
When we finally withdrew from each other's slimy asses, we were exhausted. We'd both probably come for about five minutes straight.
Flopping over in splendid weariness, I anticipated languishing in my orgasmic afterglow indefinitely. There was nothing else on my mind but how good I felt.
I'd forgotten why I was here in the first place. My fight against immoral sex ... the tape recorder under the bed ... the respectable wife and mother I'd been before I walked into the room-none of those considerations were present in my consciousness. All I could think about was how good I felt. How wonderful it was to have been fucked to mind-boggling orgasms in both the pussy and ass by another woman's tongue.
The reality of my initial motives was a million miles away. Lying on the bed, and moaning with pleasure, I was nothing more than a cunt and ass. My entire being was centered in those two holes.
Needless to say, I wasn't prepared for any sudden boomeranging of the harsh glare of real-life. Especially not when its agent was none other than the nameless redheaded woman with whom I'd such fucked and sucked to exhaustion.
But fact is fact. And a big chunk of it abruptly reared up and smacked me like the back of a shovel in the face.
"You're under arrest," she said.
"Huh?"
"I'm Officer Muldoon, undercover agent for the vice squad," she calmly informed me, producing a badge from God knows where and flashing it in my face. "I'm taking you in on counts of soliciting, crimes against nature, and using a motel room for immoral purposes. You have the right to remain silent, to call an attorney...."
CHAPTER FIVE
Instead of a lawyer, I called Rev. Worthington. He was the only one who could possibly explain to the police what I was doing in that motel room.
However, he wasn't at the church. His secretary said he was meeting with a concerned group of citizens about pornography.
I was glad he was keeping up his share of the bargain. But, on the other hand, that meant I had to cool my heels in the county jail until he could get my message and get me out.
I figured they'd throw me into a cell on the women's side of the facility, and I could go to sleep until Rev. Worthington sprung me. Such an arrangement would have been like checking into a weekend at the Waldorf compared to what actually happened.
"All right," the tough-looking matron growled at me when they'd finished booking me, "step in here."
"Is this my cell?" I asked when I entered the bare room. "There's no cot. Where will I he down?"
The matron let out a low laugh and then snapped, "Cut the comedy, you little bimbo. Don't you know us pigs don't have any sense of humor?"
I tried to protest that I didn't mean anything smart. I can see now I should have just kept my mouth shut and taken her scorn in silence. Before I got two words out, the matron's meaty hand swung from her side and slapped against the side of my face.
There'd been articles in the paper for months about alleged police brutality. As a respectable, law-abiding citizen, I'd always assumed the charges had been the unwarranted sniveling of misfits. Now, however, as I toppled to the floor from the blow I'd just received, I began to realize what the complaints were about.
"Please ... please...." I pleaded, "I didn't mean anything."
That got me a big fat kick. Only by turning to my left at the last instant did I prevent it from crashing into my face instead of glancing off my shoulder.
"Okay, tramp," the matron finally said. "Stop goldbricking and get on your feet." She behaved like I'd sat down to take a rest, rather than having been battered to the floor by her violence.
However, despite the unfairness of it all, I didn't have to be very smart to realize it was best to follow directions. It was apparent that this woman had the power to do anything she wanted to me.
Shaking like I was balancing a ton of bricks on my shoulders, I managed to totter to my feet. I prayed she wouldn't knock me down again, because I didn't know if I'd be able to get up. Even though she'd connected with only one solid blow, I already felt like I'd gone fifteen rounds with her.
"All right, cutie," she barked, "stop stalling and strip."
Oh, no, I thought, not this. I'd come to accept the fact she could do as she pleased with me, but I hadn't expected it to go this far. It was getting so that nobody was safe from sex any more in this perverted society of ours.
The expression on my face must have been very obvious. "I know what you're thinking, honey," she said as though she could read my mind.
"Are ... are you thinking the same thing?" I somehow got up enough nerve to ask.
"This is just a simple skin-search, missy," she chuckled. "It's routine for all the guests when they first check into our hotel here. Now strip and let's get this over with so you can go get acquainted with your new friends."
Under normal circumstances I would have been aghast that somebody planned to inspect my naked body. However, in light of the unique situation, I considered the matron's statement of intention a definite turn for the better.
Efficiently I peeled off my clothing. Since her eyes were on me every step of the way, the matron noticed right away I wasn't wearing anything underneath.
"Very slick," she whistled through her teeth as she ogled my naked body. "I'll bet you can whip it out faster than Marshall Dillon can draw his six-shooter the way you fix yourself up."
I looked back at her incredulously.
"Tell me, sweetness," she grinned suggestively, "about how many tricks does a girl like you turn in a night?"
She thought I was a common prostitute. I'd never felt so degraded in my life.
"I'll bet with your special get-up that all you've got to do to swing into action is spread your legs," she continued her vile description of my imagined activities. "With no panties in the way, your little pussy's ready to go all the time."
"I am not what you think I am," I said defiantly.
Whack! ... another slap. Somehow I managed to keep on my feet.
"You are if I say you are," she growled. "Just don't forget who's the law enforcement authority around here and who's the tramp and you'll do just fine."
I was so angry I wanted to leap at her and rip her foul tongue out of her ugly mouth. It was an epic struggle to contain myself.
She'd been waiting for me to retaliate. That, of course, would have given her the opportunity to cream me with the billy club she had dangling from her belt. When she realized I wasn't taking the bait, she had no choice but to step back and leave me alone.
However, if I was expecting the situation to improve, I was sadly mistaken. As I was to find out, mere standard operating procedure in the women's jail was enough to humiliate even the strongest willed person.
"Enough of your fooling around," she blamed me for her excesses, "let's get on with the skin-search. I haven't got all night, you know."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Hah!" she snorted. "If that doesn't take the cake. 'What do you want me to do?' she says. As if a little pro like you didn't know."
But, of course, I didn't. And if I couldn't produce what was expected from me within a couple of seconds, I'd get smacked down to the floor again, this time, most likely, by the billy club the matron was fingering.
I was scared to death, but all I could do was wait it out and pray that her impatience forced the instructions from her lips.
"All right," she finally spat, "you've had your fun, chickadee. Bend over and spread your cheeks for Big Mama."
Needless to say, when I heard this my emotions were mixed. I was relieved that at last I knew what to do, but horrified that I had to go through with it.
However, I realized that any further questions would get me nowhere, except perhaps in solitary confinement or in traction. Swallowing my pride, I made ready to follow the matron's orders to open up my ass to her.
Turning my back to her, I leaned over until my head was dipping below my waist. Then, purposely staring at the dull gray floor in an attempt to blot out my feelings, I reached to my rear and pried open my buns.
Just a brief moment after I'd complied with her order, I could feel the matron's hot breath wafting against the exposed spread of my pussy and anus. Obviously this was going to be a very thorough examination.
Dealing with my cunt first, she ran her fingers over the parallel folds of my labia. Then, she found my clitoris, and gave it a quick jab with her meaty thumb. The muscles inside my open gash couldn't help but tighten, and I'm sure my twat must have puckered in her face.
"Say, honey, you're wet," she trilled as she glommed a big swipe of goo from the mouth of my cunt with her index finger. "Looks like you've been having a profitable evening."
When I heard her sniffing her wet fingers, and smacking her lips, that was too much for me. "Just what is it you're looking for in there?" I spoke up with impulsive sarcasm.
"Weapons, darlin', weapons," she trilled some more, her mood obviously improved by access to my open pussy. "Weapons ... and, of course, drugs."
"Between my legs?" I blurted disbelievingly.
"You've got to admit your cunt's a perfect place to hide them. Damn thing's just like a glove compartment. Now, if you don't mind, I'll just look a little further."
With that, her fingers returned to my pussy. Only this time they didn't confine their activity to the outside. All of a sudden they were inside and wiggling.
Had it not been labeled a skin-search, the only name for what she was doing to me would have been finger-fucking.
"Listen, baby-cakes," the matron crooned, her mood becoming mellower by the moment, "you've got a real deep one. A deep, deep pussy."
"Is that right?" I responded disgustedly.
"One of the deepest I've ever seen," she said. "And I've been in law enforcement work over fifteen years. Must've skin-searched thousands of girls ... felt a whole army of cunts."
"Good for you," I hissed, heedless of the possible consequences.
Her response was more shocking than any physical blow. "Tell me, dearie," she smacked her lips, "just how big of a cock can you take in that thing, anyway? What's the biggest hard-on you've ever taken?"
God, how I hated her. I wanted to put her in her place worse than I'd ever wanted to do anything in my life.
"None," I responded with sudden inspiration. "I've never had a cock in my pussy. I'm a lesbian."
"Well, sheeeeee-iiittt!" she exclaimed. "If that don't beat all. I mean, I knew that most of you whores were dykes when you were off duty, but I don't think I ever ran across one of your kind that was so finicky when it came to money."
"You have now," I defiantly told her, almost believing it myself in my outrage.
"Now that's really something," she mused, twisting her hand around in the interior of my pussy. "Imagine that. A cunt like yours-and the damn thing's actually cherry."
"And the owner is proud of it," I perservered with my charade.
"What a shame," she went on in her disgusting vein. "Something big and long and round and hard would be a sight to behold in a snatch like yours. God must be very disappointed after He was so generous to outfit you with a twat like this. Girl, you ought to be ashamed of yourself."
"Not half as ashamed as I'd be if I were you," I snarled, my emotions running away from me.
"That's no way to talk," she answered. "I go to church every Sunday. Not only that, I'm a member of one of the Lord's chosen professions. Law enforcement."
"Whoop-de-doo."
"And the way I see it," she ignored my sarcasm, "it's up to a person that's seen the light, like myself, to show a sinner like you the way. After all, Christianity and law enforcement are both about the same thing."
"What's that?"
"Rehabilitation, sweet-thing. Rehabilitation."
"Is that right."
"You better believe it. And the first thing I'm going to rehabilitate about you is your cunt. With something big and long and hard and round like I was telling you about."
In my contorted position I couldn't see what she was doing. But, then again, I didn't have to. I knew exactly what she was doing.
She was reaching for that billy club. That billy club which possessed almost exactly the same dimensions as a hard-on. In addition to being a weapon, it was the perfect dildo.
Like it or not, I was about to be fucked.
Her hand slurped out of my pussy. Almost with no interval it was replaced with the phallic replica I was expecting. The only surprise was that it was even thicker than I had anticipated. A horse's cock would have been more merciful than this thing.
"How do you like it, dumpling?" she asked as she unleashed inch after inch of billy club up my snatch. "I'll bet the walls of your pussy feel good around it, whether the rest of you likes it or not. Before I'm through I'll bet you'll be wondering where this kind of action has been all your life."
I was too choked with rage to speak. It didn't bother her. Obviously she liked the sound of her own voice.
"I'm sticking it in all the way now, sugar-bun," she informed me of the obvious. "You couldn't get a bigger prick up your pussy if you advertised in one of those underground newspapers. I hope you appreciate what I'm doing for you."
The missile-like tip of the thing was now burrowing into depths of my body which were previously unchartered. I began to accept the inevitability of being ripped in two. Then, I knew it was in me to the hilt when I felt her knuckles scraping inside the cleft of my ass.
"I'm going to sort of twist it around now," she mapped out her course of action. "That's the way a man does it when he's shafted you all the way. They use their pricks like they're drilling for oil. It might hurt for awhile, but if they keep it up, they're going to bring in a gusher."
I hated her logic, but that didn't prevent me from accepting its basic soundness. I couldn't argue with fact.
Yes, she was correct. The more she circulated her phallic bludgeon within my cunt, the more inevitable it became that my fuck-hole would start to ooze with juice-or gush, as she had so quaintly put it.
The ultra-sensitive tissues of my twat didn't care a thing about their owner's hang-ups. Friction was all that mattered to them-and plenty of friction was what they were now getting.
The kind of friction that really makes a difference inside a woman's pussy. Friction from a long, hard, round source.
My cunt had no way of knowing that it was actually a billy club reaming it out. As far as it was concerned there was a pumping hard-on engorging its spasming tunnel.
There was no way my twat could reverse the gooey pattern of the ages. It was this simple: if my pussy was fucked, it was going to cream.
The rhythm of the matron's billy club became punctuated with noisy squishing. All of a sudden the slurp of my jack-hammered cunt filled the tiny room.
"My, my" the matron smugly said, "will you look at this. Your little snatch is oozing like a sponge."
As if she had to tell me. I could feel the excess goo trickling down my legs. My thighs were a sticky mess.
Then, just as I was getting used to it, she really stunned me.
"I guess I've proved my point," she announced. "No need to go on with this any further. I guess it's safe to say you don't have any weapons or drugs hidden up there."
"No, no, please don't stop!" I utterly astonished myself. "It feels too good for you to quit now. Keep fucking me ... please ... please! At least until I come. You owe me that much after all you've put me through."
"Say, honey-dripper," she chuckled, "just who do you think's in charge here?"
"You!" I affirmed her dominance. "That's why I'm begging you not to take that thing out of my cunt until I come. Don't you see, I need it now. Need it!"
"Perhaps you do," she said coyly. "But what about me?"
"Take off your clothes," I hastily blurted. "I'll eat your pussy while you're fucking mine. I promise to make you come as hard as you make me. My tongue is eight inches long."
"No kidding?"
"Yes, yes! It's just like a cock!"
"And you want to tongue-fuck my cunt?" she seized the initiative. "Yes!"
"Then beg for it," asserted her dominance. "Tell me how much you want it."
"More than anything!" I uncontrollably babbled. "Please!"
She coyly paused. Intellectually I knew it was a trick, but emotionally it tore me up.
"All right, pumpkin," she finally said. "Just be sure you don't have any diseases."
"I don't ... I don't," I promised her, unable to be humiliated any longer by her cruelty now that I wanted to come so desperately. "I'm clean. I swear it!"
The sound of her zippers unzipping and her buttons popping was music to my ears. Keeping the billy club crammed up my twat throughout her disrobing, she made herself naked and then slipped her massive body between my spread legs. Wriggling into view she covered the floor with her muscularly spread loins.
I found myself looking into the most enormous pussy I'd ever seen in my life. The thing was like a hairy manhole. And it smelled to high heaven.
But, as far gone as I was, I couldn't wait to get my twitching tongue inside it.
As she kept pumping from the rear with the phallic club, I lowered my face to her reeking groin. Eagerly I lowered the lips of my mouth over the fat lips of her gaping pussy and began sucking for all I was worth.
"Let's have that tongue you were bragging about, sister," she spoke sharply. "I want some stiff meat in my cunt right now."
I was only too happy to oblige.
Salty funk seared my taste-buds as I dipped deeply into her cavernous nookie. The flavor of her snatch was so unique it was like tasting pussy for the first time all over again.
Right away the probing tip of my tongue found the knot of her cervix and began stimulating it. I'm not exaggerating when I say the thing was as big as the head of a cock. Her proportions were as giant on the inside as on the outside.
"More tongue," she directed. "More!"
Obediently I slid the remaining inches up her roomy fuck-hole. There was enough space in there to wiggle any way that caught my fancy, and I made the most of it. The experience was like licking the inside of a jelly jar.
All the while, she kept doing her number with the cockish billy club. My cunt was pulsating so wildly that it seemed more like an open wound than an organ of my body. I was halfway sure my crotch would be sealed over with a scab for weeks after this was over.
We were inside each other to the hilt now. All that remained was to keep pistoning with our respective prods, and wait for the inevitable orgasms. When we finally came it would shake the building.
All of a sudden the gears of our senses meshed and a terrific orgasm blasted through both of us at once. There was no way to tell whose climax was whose as the sensation of release invaded each of our naked bodies simultaneously.
When she writhed, I did exactly the same. The bucking of her hips was perfectly matched by my furious pelvic twitching.
Our pussy juice flowed like wine. Before long it had spilled all over the floor and we were wallowing in a huge puddle of it. We could hear ourselves splashing.
I had forgotten all about being in jail. My runaway libido was the only thing of which I considered myself to be a prisoner.
I didn't care where I was. Who I was. All I cared about was coming. Getting it on with this over-sized specimen of twat wriggling joyously beneath me.
When the sound of my name penetrated the door I didn't even know who they were talking about. Only the frenzied knocking finally brought me around.
"Is Mrs. Edwards in there?" somebody called.
"Yes ... I'm ... I'm skin-searching her," the matron answered between orgasmic gasps.
"Well, tell her to get dressed and go to the desk," the voice on the other side of the door said. "She's being released. All charges against her have been dropped."
"Damn!" we both muttered simultaneously.
CHAPTER SIX
Of course, once I was out, and free from the spell of orgasm, I was happy to be released. Especially when Rev. Worthington told me that the police now understood completely what had happened, and had agreed to cooperate with us in our crusade against obscenity and illicit sex.
"They're willing to give the Committee for Decency that I've formed a free hand," the reverend informed me. "That means from now on we'll have the right to review all publications and movies that come into the area. If we don't feel they're suitable, the police will attempt to prosecute."
"Fantastic. When do we start?"
"I've scheduled a meeting for next Tuesday," he said.
"What's the agenda?"
"We're going to meet at the church and then we're all going to the Fine Arts Theater. As you know, they've started showing X-rated movies there."
"I can hardly wait," I said.
* * *
That next Tuesday there were seven of us seated in the balcony of the Fine Arts. Just before the picture started, I turned toward Jennifer Warren, who was seated to my right, and asked her if she had any idea what she would be seeing.
"The last time I was in this theater," she told me, "I brought the kids to see a Disney movie. I don't understand why they changed their policy."
"How many people were here that day?" I asked.
"Oh, maybe two or three dozen."
"There's your answer," I pointed out. "Just take a look around us."
The place, of course, was packed. And not for "The Shaggy D.A.," or "Mary Poppins."
The double-bill today at the Fine Arts was "Deep Throat," and "Teenage Sex Fantasies."
"I see your point," Jennifer said just as the screen lit up. Our conversation ended as we watched the first scene of "Deep Throat."
After the brief credits, the movie got right down to business. The actress who was apparently the infamous Linda Lovelace came home to find her roommate having her cunt eaten out by a handyman. The camera was unrelenting in its tight close-up.
The magnitude of the theater screen made what was happening before our eyes overpowering. The tongue that was dipping into the actress's spread pussy was probably ten feet long. When the juice started to pour from between her thighs, her snatch resembled Niagra Falls.
"I don't believe this," Rev. Worthington, who was seated to my left, said. "Mrs. Edwards, this makes that magazine you showed me look tame."
"Yes, it is mind-boggling, isn't it," I agreed.
I looked over to my right to see how Jennifer was reacting. Quickly I could see there was no point in talking to her right now because she wouldn't have been able to answer. Words could not have penetrated the agitated choking that was emitting from her gaping mouth.
The movie progressed. After a few minutes we were the witnesses to a full-blown sex orgy.
Collective gasps greeted the sight of Linda Lovelace being pronged in the ass by an immense hard-on. But that was nothing compared to the response when she took a coke-filled glass container up her pussy and her partner drank from it through a tube.
"This is sick," Jennifer was finally able to speak. "I don't know if I can stand to see any more of this."
"Just sit tight," I grimly said. "I'm sure we haven't seen anything yet."
Cock-sucking filled the screen ... always inevitably followed by a torrent of cum. It was so overpowering a spectacle that the theater seemed to be dripping with semen.
"Now how do you like it?" I leaned over and asked Jennifer.
Her response was an incoherent series of sharp grunts. It was apparent that the sordid reality of "Deep Throat" was blowing her mind.
I could hardly blame her. This was about as far away from Disney as you could get.
When Jennifer's agitation became more and more marked, I reached over to calm her down. However, when I reached into her lap for her hand, I got the surprise of my life.
Instead of trembling fingers I found myself gripping bare thigh. Immediately it registered with me that Jennifer's skirt had somehow pulled up practically to her waist.
Overwhelmed with curiosity, I moved my fingers further and further up her perspiring flanks. When I finally located her hand it was soaking wet.
At first I assumed the moisture was sweat. But then I quickly realized that no sweat was ever that sticky. And, besides, where were the rest of her fingers? Beyond the middle knuckle they seemed to be missing.
Then the curly hair scratched me and I immediately had the answer. Her fingers were inside her cunt!
She'd pushed the crotch of her panties out of the way and was reaming herself out. Her pussy was so damp it was dripping all over the seat.
My shock was tempered with sympathy. After all, I wasn't exactly an innocent when it came to falling prey to the insidious influence of hard-core pornography. This vile stuff could temporarily corrupt anybody.
To let Jennifer know that I understood, I closed my hand over hers and whispered in her ear, "I know what you're doing, and, believe me, you have nothing to be ashamed of. Trust me and I'll help you through it."
"God, thanks," she whispered back in a quivering voice. "You don't know how awful I feel, but I just can't stop."
"Is there anything I can do?" I offered my assistance.
"Yes," she rasped hotly.
"Just name it."
"Help me come," she gasped throatily. "I'm sure if I have an orgasm I'll be all right."
It was an unusual request, but under the circumstances I was up to it. I knew, if anybody did, the demands this smut could place on the most decent individual.
"Where's your clitoris?" I asked. "I'll tickle you off while you're finger-fucking yourself and you'll be okay before you know it."
"It's just above my thumb," she said without hesitation. "You can't miss it. It feels as big as a nail."
Slipping my fingers into her saturated panties, I found it immediately. She hadn't been exaggerating.
I couldn't believe that a woman's clit could become so erect. I'd thought the redheaded policewoman's at the Ramada Inn was huge, but Jennifer's dwarfed that specimen. Fondling it was like playing with a miniature hard-on.
"Mmmmmmm," she moaned as I tweaked her fat joy-button, "that's it. You're doing it just right. Keep on rubbing."
Paying no attention to the movie, I devoted all my attention to my friend's agitated pussy.
Working her clit like an expert, I pinched it between my fingers and squeezed it to a fare-thee-well. The more I did so, the more cream flowed out of the mouth of her spasming twat.
Then, abruptly, my concentration was shattered. Not, however, by anything happening on the screen, but by the person on the other side of me.
"Rev. Worthington, is there something wrong?" I turned to my left and asked in a whisper.
"This movie is more than I bargained for," he admitted in a rasp.
"What do you mean?"
Instead of answering with words, he grabbed my free hand and thrust it into his lap. My fingers stiffened from the immediate shock, and then slowly wrapped around his throbbing hard-on.
His cock was completely out of his pants, and standing straight up in the air!
"What do you want me to do?" I hissed to him under my breath.
"Jack me off," he pleaded. "I'll never be able to leave this theater without embarrassing myself unless I come."
I could see what he meant. If the rest of the ladies saw him walking out of the movie with an enormous tell-tale bulge in his trousers, they'd immediately label him as a hypocrite. Not only might his career as a minister be ruined, the effectiveness of the Committee for Decency would probably be ended before it even started.
The situation was clear. In order to save both Rev. Worthington's career, and the Committee, I had no choice but to give him a hand-job while I was simultaneously fingering Jennifer's clit.
Both of my hands went to work. On the left, the several inches of Rev. Worthington's familiarly thick cock throbbed in the grip of my stroking fingers. On the right, Jennifer's pussy was becoming hotter and swampier by the second.
Caught in the middle, I inevitably began to become aware of my own reaction to the bizarre ramifications of this field trip. Maybe I'd been able to resist "Deep Throat" itself, but I wasn't able to resist what it was doing to the spectators on either side of me.
A cock in one hand, and a wet pussy gushing against the other, was more than my objectivity could endure. When I started to squirm in my seat I realized it wasn't because the upholstery was hard.
"Oh, my pussy," I whispered to myself.
"What's the matter?" both Jennifer and Rev. Worthington overheard me and asked in unison.
"It's soaking wet," I admitted. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to help me like I'm helping you."
They were both more than equal to the task. A hand from the left and one from the right immediately shot into my lap. Then, clawing in tandem, they pushed insistently up between my opening thighs.
Ten fingers seized the sopping crotch of my panties and tore them to shreds. Instead of being covered with clinging fabric, my cunt was abruptly smothered with wriggling digits.
I don't know whose hand slipped inside the mouth of my pussy, and whose began rubbing my clit-I'm just glad it happened. The combination of so much action at my wet crotch, and a cock and pussy in either hand, made "Deep Throat" seem like it was showing in the next town.
Rubbing each other frantically, we filled the air with our uncontrollable wheezing. Only the interest of the rest of the Committee in the movie saved us from being detected.
Oblivious to the surroundings, I became hornier and hornier. I yearned to escalate the action. Inevitably, the obvious course of action occurred to my fevered brain.
"Jennifer," I whispered, "how would you like to suck some cock while I'm playing with your pussy?"
"I'd adore it," she gushed enthusiastically.
"Then lean over this way."
As she did so, I pulled the reverend's stiff tool toward my lap. Before he could inquire what in the world I was doing, Jennifer's lips were closing over his cockhead and he needed no verbal explanation.
As her mouth gobbled inch after inch of his prick, I dropped my left hand to his balls. Of course they were churning. When he finally came Jennifer would get the thrill of her life.
In the meantime, the fingers of my right hand had spread to get themselves a little bit more cunt. No longer satisfied with just her clit, I probed toward the frothing gash of Jennifer's twat. There was no reason why her fingers couldn't [text missing in actual pocketbook]
The instant she felt my presence, Jennifer locked her fingers into mine. Creating a shared fist, we whammed together toward the furthest depths of her fuck-hole. The spasming our thrust created was intense.
Then, with perfect timing, Jennifer's and Rev. Worthington's combined fingers copied the same action in my cunt. I moaned deliriously as they fist-fucked me to the cervix ... and then beyond. I swore I could feel their knuckles scraping the interior of my womb.
All the while, of course, Jennifer was furiously sucking cock. I could tell from her suctioning noises that she was using her oral cavity just like a pussy. She loved being fucked in the mouth, and proved it with every deep slurp.
When Rev. Worthington's nuts slammed together and pulled practically up inside his body, I knew he was on the verge of coming. I was thrilled for Jennifer that she was finally going to get a mouthful of hot jizz after all the agony she'd gone through.
"Glub," I heard her gurgle. At last, he was coming in her mouth.
Even though I was happy for her, the instant the evidence of his jizz splattering down her throat hit my ears I became envious. For the first time it occurred to me that I was as undoubtedly thirsty for fresh sperm as my friend Jennifer.
If I didn't do something quickly she'd swallow every drop of precious ministerial spunk. I was pleased to have been the catalyst for Jennifer having her mouth so divinely fucked by the reverend's delicious cock, but I didn't see why she had to hog all of his sweet cum in the bargain.
Taking a hold of the root of Rev. Worthington's prick with one hand, I brought the other up to the back of Jennifer's head and grabbed her long brown hair. Then, with a sudden tug, I yanked the two mouth-fuckers apart.
To my dismay, the reverend's cock, while still fairly stiff, had been lapped clean. The only moisture gracing its throbbing head was Jennifer's saliva.
However, when I turned my attention to Jennifer's face, I saw that all was not lost. Her chin was a dripping mess from all the excess cream drooling from her open lips. In other words, there was still plenty of cum inside her mouth.
If I wanted it, there was only one way to get it. Letting go of Rev. Worthington's prick, I brought both hands to Jennifer's head and framed her face with them. Turning her toward me, I pulled her mouth to mine. My lips covered hers. My tongue stiffened and shot down her throat.
We shared a long, deep soul-kiss.
The perfect device to ferry glob after glob of the fresh cum that swamped her mouth into mine. The sensation was blessed.
When I had drunk my fill, the kiss ended. Jennifer and I parted and fell back in our seats. There, along with the exhausted Rev. Worthington, and the rest of the Committee, we sat silently through the rest of the movie.
I don't know about anybody else, but after all I'd been through in the balcony, the highly-touted "Deep Throat" was a crashing bore. Jennifer had to wake me up before we all left.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Unlike Jennifer, Rev. Worthington, and myself, the rest of the Committee had apparently paid more attention to Linda Lovelace and company than each other.
And the result was outrage.
None of these ladies had known anything like this was being shown in their community. Now that they realized it, they wanted it stopped.
Since the police had already sanctioned the Committee for Decency as a watchdog against pornography, all we had to do was let them know how we felt about the program at the Fine Arts and they'd close it down. Needless to say, we exercised this option.
Later that week, when the story of the raid on the theater hit the newspaper, we were all as proud as we could be of ourselves. Immediately we began searching around for our next target.
The logical choice was the topless and bottomless nightclub industry that had been flourishing in the area for the past couple of years. These places were all around, some even being located right in the middle of shopping centers. They were perfect examples of the kind of thing the Committee was fighting against.
The only problem was that, with all the publicity from the closing of the Fine Arts, the owners of these disgusting joints were on guard against our crusade. If a bunch of us women showed up, they'd immediately clean up their act. Instead of catching the performers at their worst, we were liable to witness a show so artificially harmless that we wouldn't be able to get the police to do a thing.
In other words, the situation called for as much trickery from the Committee as our foes were capable of employing. Fighting fire with fire was the only way to wipe out smut in the long run.
"If we could only get one of our members inside one of those places," Rev. Worthington told a meeting of the Committee one afternoon, "we could get the goods on these people."
"But they have virtually no female clientele," somebody pointed out.
"What about Rev. Worthington himself?" somebody else asked. "After all, although he's a minister, he is a man nonetheless. Without his collar...."
"There's no way I could do it," the pastor interrupted. "My picture was in the paper as the head of this Committee when the story about the Fine Arts broke. I'm sure they have it posted in every porno parlor within a hundred miles."
"Then how can we get somebody inside?" Jennifer Warren asked. "What you seem to be saying so far is that we're licked."
"Don't bet on it," I coolly stated, causing all eyes to look my way.
"Do you have a plan, Mrs. Edwards?" Rev. Worthington asked.
"Yes," I firmly said. "All it requires is a little guts."
"What is it?" several people asked in unison.
"These nude dancing joints are going to be on the look-out for suspicious customers, right?" I reasoned. "So we let them keep right on looking. Maybe even send in a couple of people who are so obvious they can be detected right away."
"But what will that accomplish?" Rev. Worthington wanted to know.
"For one thing, it'll lure the owners into a false sense of security," I said. "For another thing, it'll mean they probably won't be checking up on infiltration from the other end of their operation."
"I don't get it," the reverend said, several members of the Committee indicating they were equally in the dark.
"Simple," I stated. "If these people are busy checking out customers, and patting themselves on the back because they've detected some ringers, they're not going to be paying much attention to their employees."
"Their employees?" several women, along with Rev. Worthington, gasped.
"Precisely," I continued. "They'll never suspect that the person getting the goods on them might be one of their own kind."
"You mean, Mrs. Edwards," Rev. Worthington said, "that you think we ought to approach some creature who works in one of these establishments and persuade her to work with us?"
"Better than that," I replied evenly. "I'm suggesting that we leave nothing to chance. We won't have to persuade anybody to cooperate with us if the employee is one of us to begin with."
Now they were really going around in circles. Of course, what I was saying should have become obvious, but they just didn't want to admit it.
"One of us will get a job at one of these places," I spelled it out for them. "The owners'll never believe we'd have that much nerve, and the evidence we get will be solid as a rock."
"But who ... wh-who ... would volunteer to do such a degrading thing?" Rev. Worthington asked incredulously.
"You're looking at her," I responded without batting an eyelash.
"But ... but ... the debasement you'll have to go through," he pointed out. "It will be a humiliating experience for a woman of your moral and ethical background."
"In this case the means justifies the end," I reminded them all of the crucial purpose for which the Committee for Decency had been formed. "I don't see any other alternative if we all truly believe this filth should be wiped out."
"All right, Mrs. Edwards," Rev. Worthington concluded after a long, reflective pause. "If you're willing to make this sacrifice, then the Committee is behind you 100%."
* * *
The place I picked to go undercover was a sleazy dive in an outlying shopping center called the Boom Boom Room. It had garish signs all around the premises advertising "Live Sex Shows!"
Its location, right in the midst of a commercial area where mothers brought their children to shop, was almost enough to make me sick. However, I suppressed my nausea and walked inside.
Realizing I had to play a part to get anywhere, once I was inside the door I'd become a different person than Sara Edwards, respectable wife and mother. "My name is Daisy Carter," I told the first person I encountered. "I need work, and I'll do anything to get it."
"Well, well," the guy said, "that's interesting. Do you know what kind of place this is?"
"You better believe it," I shot back.
"And you'll do anything?"
"Anything."
"Far out," he said. "It just so happens we're short a girl. You're hired. Be here tonight at eight."
"Don't you want to see my body?" I asked, certain I'd have to strip.
"I'll take your word for it that it's in good working order," he said. "Just bring it with you tonight."
I couldn't believe how easy it had been to get on the inside at the Boom Boom Room. My spirits were so up that I didn't even consider what I might have to do when I reported for work at eight.
However, my return visit to the Boom Boom Room brought me back to reality. The first time I'd been there the place had been empty. Now, at night, it was filled with a noisy crowd of beer-guzzling men. All of their attention was focused on a small stage on which a totally naked girl was spread-eagling herself. Her cunt was as wide open as a manhole.
"Is that what I'm going to have to do?" I asked the guy I'd talked to during the afternoon.
"Naw," he answered. "Myrtle is just an opening act. Strictly warm-up. If she tried to do anything more complicated than spread her pussy she'd fall down and break her leg."
"Then what do you have in mind for me?"
"The closing spot," he said.
"But how do you know I'll be any good?" I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me.
"Because you said you'd do anything," he replied matter-of-factly, and then walked away.
While I waited to be called for my act, I wandered around the club, gathering in evidence that I would later turn over to the Committee. Needless to say, in a place like the Boom Boom Room, there was plenty to be gathered.
It was like a totally different world than the one which I was used to. When I'd walked through the front door I'd left a familiar universe and entered a totally alien one.
Here, sex was all that mattered. It was the only need to which the inhabitants related.
Bulging cocks were in evidence in tight crotches all over the place. Every customer seemed to have a boner. In fact, a few of them were even outside their trousers, their owners uncontrollably masturbating from the excitement at the spread-legged filth they were ogling.
At the same time, sharp-eyed B-girls cruised the premises, looking for men with enough money in their pockets to have their hard-ons manipulated to orgasm by someone other than themselves. More than once I slipped on a fresh slick of recently spilled semen.
As the evening progressed, the rawer things became. The dancers on stage became dirtier and dirtier, and the audience response to them became more and more blatant. Hand-jobbing and cock-sucking seemed to be going on under practically every table. More than once I saw one of the B-girls throw her head back to laugh and have a glob of left-over cum spill from the corner of her mouth.
Then the dancer who had been impaling her cunt with the leg of a chair left the stage and an intermission began. Needless to say, the crowd, at a peak of horniness, didn't like the delay.
"Come on, come on," one after another would yell, "start the action!"
I was getting pretty curious myself about what was taking so long when a rough hand suddenly gripped my shoulder. Looking around in alarm, I found myself staring at the guy who'd hired me instead of the drunken customer I'd anticipated.
"Hey, baby, let's go," he said urgently. "You're on next."
"You mean it's me they're waiting for?" I gulped.
"Nobody else," he answered. "Right now you're the Queen of Show Business. Now get backstage and strip. Your partner's waiting for you."
"But what am I supposed to do?" I asked as he hustled me to the front of the club.
"I don't have time" to explain it," he said, leading me into the wings at the side of the stage. "Joe'll show you the ropes."
"Joe?"
"Yeah, there his is."
He pointed to a tall, muscular man with fearsome looking tattoos decorating his arms. His chest was dense with black curly hair. ' The man was nude. Protruding from between his legs was the biggest hard-on I'd ever seen in my life.
The guy who'd hired me left my side and went over and whispered something in Joe's ear. Then Joe turned toward me with a big smile on his craggy face and said, "So you're the girl I'm going to fuck. Let's get started, I've got a late date tonight."
I almost passed out. However, even if I had, I wouldn't have fallen to the floor. The several busy hands that were hurriedly undressing me because I was too stunned to do it myself would have propped me up.
Joe went out on stage first. The horny crowd cheered his hard-on the way a political convention would have cheered their Presidential nominee. Then I followed. Not because I wanted to, but because I was pushed.
There I was, stark naked, on stage with a man who expected to fuck me in front of an audience of drunken sex maniacs. There was nowhere to go ... no route for escape.
If I disappointed this crowd, it was clear they'd tear me to pieces.
I'd gotten myself into this, and now there was only one way to get out of it. I was too far in it to back out now. The choice was clear-I had to fuck Joe.
Deciding to get it over with as quickly as possible, I astonished myself by making the first move. While Joe was still taking the bows for the throbbing monstrosity poking from his loins, I walked over to where he was standing, dropped to my knees, and cupped his heavy balls in my hands.
Once I had his nuts in my grip, his prick started to do what I wanted it to. By stretching the skin of his scrotum I made it stop twitching all over the place, guiding it on a straight line toward my parted lips.
Just before I closed my mouth over the crown, I took one last look at the entirety of what I had taken upon myself to devour. Beheve me, I was impressed with my own courage.
It was a blue-veiner ... and then some. The blood had to flow through vessels the size of viaducts to bloat an organ to that size.
With an ordinarily endowed co-star, I'd have been able to spread my legs, fuck without any preparation or fanfare, and get off the stage. In this situation, however, such single-mindedness was not the shortest distance between two points.
I could have never taken Joe's bludgeon in my normal-sized cunt-hole without extensive lubrication. Since the only resource I had available was my own saliva, I'd have to permit him to fuck me in the mouth before I could unleash him between my legs.
You can imagine how difficult it was for a woman with my solid moral background to kneel nude on a stage before a screaming crowd of perverts and eat inch after inch of stiff cock.
But I did it. And not primly. No, I couldn't afford to just go through the motions. Holding back would just haunt me later. My gobbling had to be the real thing. After all, the whole purpose of it was to get his huge cock wet enough to make the eventual plunge up my pussy bearable.
So that meant sucking ... Slurping ... Squishing.
Forcing the spit to flow from the nooks and crannies of my oral cavity until his enormous tool was drenched, livery inch of it.
It would be no good unless I swallowed the entire cock. The whole hard-on. To the absolute hilt. Down to the balls.
Joe may have been an experienced sex performer, but it was clear after I'd mouth-fucked him halfway down his root that he'd never had a partner like me. By now his flashy stage presence had dissolved and he was whimpering like a baby. It was clear that nobody had ever eaten him so deeply as this, let alone all the way.
Well, I was going to gobble his throbber to the ultimate or not at all. I'd show Joe and all the rest of these arrogant male jerks once and for all that a woman was more than just a lump of passive meat.
Sucking, sucking, sucking, I captured inch after inch of hard-on phallic victory. My mouth was like a determined army, advancing despite all adversity onto alien territory.
I knew I was really making progress when Joe's whimpering changed to groaning. He must have felt like his cock was being pulled down a garbage disposal.
He cried out in surrender. Inside, I just laughed. No mercy would be shown until my lips and teeth were nibbling triumphantly against those hairy balls of his.
The crowd was going crazy. Previously I had ignored their presence. However, now their excitement started to feed my frenzy. With each successive inch of phallic insertion in my mouth, I took my strength from them.
"Suck him!" somebody yelled. "Get down on that cock all the way!"
"Oh, baby, fuck him with your mouth!"
"Take that monster whole!"
I began to feel the way O.J. Simpson must have felt the day he was on the verge of rushing for 2,000 yards. Every advance I made with my mouth on Joe's gigantic boner made me determined for more.
Joe was quivering, on the brink of collapsing. I had to shove my hands under his ass and gouge my fingers into his buns to keep him propped up.
The cue-ball sized head of his dick had engorged my throat almost from the beginning. Now, with only a few inches to go before I'd eaten him all the way, the damn bulb was practically down in my stomach. I felt like I'd swallowed a boa constrictor.
"Please, no more!" Joe suddenly shrieked. "I can't take any more of your mouth!"
The audience immediately booed him. Guys left their tables and ran up to the stage, making it clear they'd physically hold Joe in place if he tried to escape.
Confident that I had my quarry irrevocably in my trap, I caught my breath through my flaring nostrils. I could afford to take a rest ... take my time. Be at my best for the final push.
The audience was willing to wait. They were on my side. Maybe a hundred horny men were in the palm of my hand.
Okay, now I was ready. Ready for The Big Suck.
The saliva churned in the bottom of my mouth. When it was good and thick, I pushed it toward my lips. Then, as the spittle drooled from the corners of my mouth, I knew I had manufactured enough lubrication to make the final slide.
They must have been able to hear the slurp all the way to the rear of the building as I drove my mouth forward with a single lurching thrust. The excess spit sprayed in the air and dripped from my face.
I'd closed my eyes for the final effort. Now, when I opened them, there was no more cock. Only a patch of pubic hair bristling before my eyes.
I wiggled my hips ... Mmmmmmm.
Yes, I knew that sweet taste and soft feel. Balls. I was nuzzling balls.
It had been like swallowing a sword, but I had done it. I had succeeded. I had eaten every inch of his cock!
"Make him come!" somebody screamed.
"Yes, yes!" several others yelled.
This hadn't been my original intention. However, I'd never expected the standing ovation I was now getting.
The cheers of the crowd were like a powerful drug. When I'd began, I'd hated the noise. Now, with its encouragement ringing in my ears, I felt I couldn't do enough to please the sweaty mob.
"Make him come! Make him come! Make him come!" they chanted over and over again.
I would, Goddamn it, I would. I would make this bastard come! Not until his hot jizz had filled my belly would I be satisfied.
It was like running my lips over a double-edged blade, but I sucked the way I had to. Produced the friction that was needed to draw the spunk everybody in the Boom Boom Room was eagerly awaiting.
Suck ... suck ... suck ... suck . ... Slurp ... slurp ... slurp ... slurp . ... It sounded like waves lapping against coastal rocks.
I squeezed his balls, stuck a finger up his greasy asshole and poked his prostate. Let my hot spit drool down his loins so it burned him like liquid fire.
"Come, you bastard!" the audience raucously echoed my thoughts. "Come in her mouth, you son of a bitch!"
Joe was practically unconscious on his feet. Fortunately, however, his serpentine cock still had a mind of its own. It seemed to hiss in the depths of my gullet. Then it jerked ... spasmed ... lurched ... thrust. Yes, thrust. Thrust an incredible extra inch to the pit of my being and abruptly exploded.
The cum seemed to fill me instantaneously. In a second it was gushing out of my mouth as fast as it was filling my stomach. The stage was as awash with it as my belly was full of it.
Then the pressure became too much and I was thrown halfway across the stage. Landing on my ass with my legs spread, I felt the goo rushing from my gaping mouth as though I were vomiting. The audience could not have been more pleased.
When I finally looked up I saw Joe crumpling to the floor like a vanquished warrior. His once formidable prick seemed like a broken spear as it dangled between his trembling flanks.
I tried to get up, but I kept slipping in the cum.
I felt like I was in a mud-bath. My body was covered with the sticky stuff.
Finally I made it to my feet. Tottering to the fallen Joe, I stood over him like the survivor of a double knockdown. The audience picked up the imagery also, and began a chanting count to ten.
"One ... two ... three...."
He stirred. At first I thought he was going to rise. Then, when I saw the twisted expression on his pained face, I realized he was ready to quit.
"Five ... six ... seven...." the crowd continued their drone.
As soon as they reached ten, I could just walk off the stage with nothing further required of me. Not only would I have the mob's cheers ringing in my ears, I would have enough evidence against the Boom Boom Room to have the place closed forever.
However, the excitement had reached such a fever-peak that my head was not into such simple logic.
"Nine...." the crowd intoned the number before it was all over.
There was only one way to stave off the climactic digit that would bring this bizarre chapter of my life to a close. Impulsively taking that route, I abruptly dropped to the floor, cutting off the count just before it reached its final cadence.
Joe and I were equals once again. Two nude bodies wallowing on our hands and knees in the sloppy quicksand of too-much cum.
Let's face it. I just couldn't bring myself to say good-bye to the most recognition I'd ever received in my life. The self-appointed role of censor could never provide me with the instant-gratification I was capable of deriving from being a stage-fucker.
Yes, my desire was crystal-clear to me now. No matter how exhausted Joe's cock was, I wanted that big piece of meat inside my cunt, showing off for the cheering crowd.
The show must go on!
"Don't worry," I screamed to the mass, seizing Joe's meat and steering it toward my now open twat, "I'll make him hard again!"
Their rocking cheers were music to my ears. Nothing could stop me now. Not even my native decency. In this isolated time-frame, there was no past or future. All I knew for now was that I wanted to degrade myself. Fuck a giant cock because that's what my cunt was made for.
I was a woman. Women fuck!
Pulling Joe on top of me, I used my fingers to cram his pliant prick-flesh between the gaping lips of my spread-legged pussy. Fortunately, his tool was so big, it didn't have to be hard to get it inside a willing twat.
Then, when I had several inches stuffed inside me, I played my hole-card, if you'll pardon the pun. Unleasing my cunt muscles, I grabbed his cock within my loins and began violently jerking it.
Joe moaned piteously from the pressure. I'm sure that in his head he just wanted to go home and crawl into bed. However, at the crux of his loins, his phallic blood vessels were independent of his brain cells.
The chafing friction I applied with my tight cunt was too much for even the tiredest prick to resist. Sooner or later it would have to get hard.
When I felt his cock finally stiffening inside my spasming pussy, I immediately threw my legs around his waist and pulled him toward me. That sent the head of his tool smashing against the puckering nodule of my cervix, which provided the equivalent of several hundred volts of electricity blasting through his fat wire to his fuck-center.
Inevitably, his dick hardened even more. It was almost three-quarters strength by now.
I reached down and grabbed his balls. While squeezing them, I shot my index finger between the underside of his cheeks and found his asshole. By the time I had penetrated it past the last knuckle, Joe's cock was like a rock. A complete hard-on once again.
Suddenly we were fucking. My cunt was split by a pumping cock. The penetration was so deep my eye-teeth were tingling.
The audience was going crazy.
I was going crazy.
Resurrected from the living dead, even Joe was acting like a madman.
"Fuck me ... fuck me ... fuck me!" I screamed to the rafters. "Come in my cunt!"
Joe pumped. He pistoned. His cock surged so far up my pussy that his balls were bruising against my tender groin.
We'd swiveled around on the stage so the audience could see everything. No heads ... no faces. Just cock and cunt. Fucking! Fucking to the core!
The crowd had been raising the roof with their cheering. Then, abruptly, they stopped. It was so quiet in there you could hear a pin drop.
They knew what was about to happen.
A long, spurting hiss shattered the silence. The hiss of Joe's immense hard-on coming inside my cunt.
Then the mob broke loose in a voyeuristic ecstasy. They'd seen it happen and they loved it. Loved the sight of the corners of my twat bubbling with sperm. My thighs suddenly glistening with excess jizz.
I was woman as they thought she should be-stuffed with cock, and slick with cum.
As I bucked insanely on the stage, I couldn't help but agree.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Somehow I made it back to the house after my stint at the Boom Boom Room. When I dropped into bed beside my snoring husband, my head was still bursting from the unbelievably erotic images I'd brought home with me.
I tried to go to sleep, I couldn't shut off the lewd vibrancy that engorged my mind. Fucking was imprinted on my brain, and I couldn't shake it off.
Harold, of course, was as usual sleeping like a log. Nothing disturbed him when he was asleep. We hadn't fucked in the middle of the night since Melinda had been conceived during the first year of our marriage.
If I wanted to screw my husband, I virtually had to make an appointment with him.
Tossing and turning, I thrashed around searching for the right position that would bring me peace. However, sleep seemed far from my grasp.
Then, as I tried my right side for perhaps the fifth time, my knee accidentally struck something that woke me up even more than before.
Something hard and provocative.
Pulling back the covers in curiosity, I found myself looking at Harold's stiff dick. It was poking out of the fly of his pajamas several inches. Apparently he was having a wet dream.
This surprised me. I'd come to accept the fact that Harold was programmed for everything. Unless he was so single-minded that he was capable of ordering his dreams, something spontaneous was actually happening in that square head of his.
Lying there on my side, I looked at his twitching hard-on, and tried to picture what was taking place in his dream. Was I in it? Was he engaging in some unspeakable act we would never even consider in the course of real life?
Maybe he was fucking me in the ass. Pushing inch after inch of his stiff prick up my tight bunghole as I knelt on all fours in front of him.
I quivered with excitement, almost able to feel him inside me, my imagination was so vivid.
"Harold," I decided to prod him, "what are you dreaming about? Tell me about your dream."
He stopped snoring and grunted. Then his breath became hot and heavy.
"Come on, Harold," I urged him, "I want to know. What's made your dick so big and hard?"
"Mmmmpppwwwfff," he sputtered, covering his head with the pillow. However, as he did so, his cock lurched in the air, standing even taller than before.
Clearly I was on to something. All I had to do was keep pressing.
I decided to accompany my verbal prompting with a little physical stimulation. By the time I asked him again what he was dreaming, my fingers were lightly stroking up and down his throbbing shaft.
"Ooooh, that feels so good," he finally made some sense. "My cock feels so good inside you."
"Who?" I blurted. "In whom does your cock feel so good? ... And which hole have you got it in?"
"So tight," he sighed. "My cock feels so fucking tight in your squeezing ass."
I'd been right. He was cornholing someone in his dream. But who was it?
"Who are you fucking in the ass, Harold?" I asked him. "Tell me who it is."
"I can't," he answered. "It's a secret. Have to keep it a secret."
"Why?" I bleated impatiently. "Why can't you tell me who it is?"
"My wife would kill me if she ever found out," he shocked me. "She's very old-fashioned when it comes to sex."
It took me a moment to get myself together. When I was finally composed enough to speak, I asked, "Would you like to fuck your wife in the ass?"
"She'd never let me," he snorted. "Sometimes I think she wants as little to do with my dick as possible."
I was stunned. I'd never realized he felt this way. It had always been my assumption that our sex life was so cut-and-dried because we both agreed that was the only decent way for husband and wife to conduct themselves.
"I don't even think I've ever actually seen my wife's asshole," he continued. "She's never let me eat our her pussy, so I've never really looked around down there."
"Have you thought about it?" I egged him on. "What it looks like?"
"Of course," he replied. "I wonder if it's pink, like a young girl's. Or brown, from being used for so many years ... that is, if she uses it."
"Well, I've got news for you," I said, hearing my own words as though I were a third party eavesdropping on the conversation. "I've seen your wife's asshole. I can describe it to you."
"Yes?"
"It's still pink," I truthfully informed him. "She takes very good care of it ... Wets the toilet paper and softens it before she wipes herself."
"Really?"
"Yes. Your cock would slip right in it. If you fucked her in the ass, you'd never forget it."
He licked his lips. Even though he was sound asleep, he was drooling like a rabid dog. Down below, his stiff cock was as vital as a horny teenager's.
I had never seen Harold so aroused. Even on our wedding night his prick had not been this grossly alive. This dream he was having had turned him on more than my virginal body ever had.
"Would you like to fuck your wife in the ass?" I prodded him.
"Of course," he answered without hesitation. "But it would never happen. She'd never let me. So I'll just have to keep on doing what I've been doing when I get the urge."
"Which is?" I anxiously inquired.
"Hiring girls."
So Harold was seeing prostitutes. What an irony! Here I was, one of the leading members of the Committee for Decency, and my husband was paying whores so he could fuck them in the ass.
The possible implications didn't escape me for a second. Needless to say, all hell would break loose should the police ever raid a place upon the Committee's recommendation, only to haul in my own husband during the process.
To protect Harold ... to protect my reputation ... to protect the work of the Committee, it was my duty to keep my husband at home. And the best place to begin was right between the cheeks of my ass with his hard-on inside my hot, throbbing anus.
Besides, I was so aroused by now from all that had transpired this evening, I wanted it more than anything. My asshole seemed to scream for his rigid cock inside it. Ass-fucking was the only sex act I'd missed tonight.
"Harold," I cooed to him, "I think you can get what you want at home from now on."
"Impossible," he scoffed.
"Don't bet on it," I said. Then he stopped talking and got to work.
Rolling him over on his back, I sat on his belly. Holding his cock with my hands behind me, I inched in reverse toward it. When I felt it bumping against my butt, I raised myself several inches into the air and spread my haunches as widely as they would go, while balancing myself on my knees.
I could feel the muscles of my asshole straining to open the narrow pit as far as possible when I lowered my anal rosebud toward the tip of Harold's pulsing hard-on. His prick was so big that it would be an excruciatingly tight fit, however I was convinced the tighter the better. Even though he was sound asleep, I wanted him to remember this incident for a long time.
Then the meat of his cockhead was rubbing against the delicate petals of my quivering asshole. Warm goo was trickling out of my tiny orifice, lubricating it for the pounding it would have to take.
"Feel my ass, Harold," I called down to him. "Feel your cock against my asshole. Can you feel it, Harold?"
"Mmmmmm," he sighed hungrily back. He could feel it all right.
"Shove it in me, Harold," I cried. "Shove your big cock into my ass. Fuck me in the ass!"
Jumping like it was on a spring, Harold's dick crashed into my shit-pit. All of a sudden the bulging head was steaming toward my bowels like a runaway freight train. Inch after inch of thick shaft followed in its wake until my rectum was completely engorged with pulsating cock.
Glorying in his penetration, I began to wiggle my butt, causing Harold's hard-on to twist within me like a cork-screw. By now his dick was colliding against chunks of shit in the furthest reaches of my spasming colon.
Yes, he was fucking me in the ass all the way. To the hilt. Every inch of his cock was buried in my tight bunghole. His hairy nuts churned against the interior of my spread cheeks.
It was hard to believe that we had been married for years and had never made this kind of love before. Our respectability had always stood in the way. Even now, one of us had to be fucking under the cover of a wet dream to bring it off.
Poor Harold, I wished he could be awake like me to achieve the fullest enjoyment from our union of cock and anus. No dream could match the pumping, wet glory embodied in the reality of his stiff prick pistoning in and out of my clutching asshole.
I briefly considered waking him up, but rejected it because of the potential shock. My life was too complex at the moment to add the problem of a confused husband. Unfortunately, there was just no way to predict how Harold would react to the flesh-and-blood sight of his blue-veined cock pulling back and forth between my spread cheeks.
I'd just have to hope that the mark left on his psyche from this nocturnal experience was so unforgettable he wouldn't feel the need to go to prostitutes any more, without really understanding why. I was taking a chance playing it this way-but not as big a one as I'd be taking if I woke him up.
The stresses in my marriage would have to wait until the war against obscenity was won. In the meantime, dream-fucking would have to do when it came to keeping my husband in his place.
Having thought it all out, I now ground down for the final push. Heavy thinking out of the way, I wanted him to come in my ass as much as I was sure Harold wanted to fill it with his spurting cream. When it was over, we could each get out of one another's way and roll over and sleep in peace.
"Fuck me harder ... harder," I prodded. "Fill my ass with your hot cum!"
"Unnnnhhhh!" he snorted like a wounded beast.
When I looked down sweat was pouring from his face. It looked so odd to see such effort contorting his features when his eyes were closed.
And it was even eerier that, despite his deep sleep, he clearly understood my every erotic command.
"Come, Harold, come! Stop holding back!"
"Unnnnhhhh ... unnnhhh ... unnnhhh!"
Seizing his nuts I squeezed them until I thought they would crumble. I could feel the cum surging within the tight sac, building, building, building. His ultimate ejaculation would be wetter than any he had ever accomplished while awake.
The stony head of his prick was jogging in my lower intestine. It felt like I was trying to digest a rock.
"Come, you bastard, come!" I lost all restraint and yelled. "I can't wait any longer!"
The rock exploded. The liquid tore into the sensitive lining of my digestive tract. Hot cum swamped the turds normally lodged there.
Grooving deliriously on his spurting cock, I rotated my butt in lurching semi-circles. There was no way to sit still while I was getting an enema of scalding cum.
He couldn't stop creaming. The excess spunk filled every cavity there was to fill inside me and then surged down and out the tunnel of my asshole. The bedding was saturated as it poured from the opening of my prick-engorged rectum.
Harold was so exhilarated that he was laughing and crying, sweating and moaning, bumping and grinding all at once. I'd never seen him have an orgasm like this one.
However, I could understand it. Because the truth was I'd never experienced anything like this with him either.
Incredibly, I was coming in my ass like it was a second cunt. The pleasure seemed to melt away any difference or barrier between my two fuck-holes. It was hard to believe, but this was actually my husband doing this to me. My husband ripping my asshole to shreds with his pumping cock. Blasting cum inside my bowels. Never stopping. Coming ... coming ... coming! Making my rectum climax like he had been fucking me in the ass since our first date. Giving me the most excruciating pleasure a woman could ever know from her husband.
Too bad it could only happen in his dreams.
CHAPTER NINE
I don't know what I expected when I finally dropped off to sleep, but the next morning reality was its old self. Harold was over on the other side of the bed snoring his head off just like nothing had happened during the night. There was about as much romance in the air as at a funeral.
Finally I stopped feeling sorry for myself enough to realize I'd better haul myself out of bed and fix breakfast for Harold and Melinda before they went off to work and school respectively. Then, once they were out of the house, I could get back to my Committee work. Rev. Worthington would be waiting for my eye-witness report on the Boom Boom Room.
The breakfast-table conversation was the usual uneventful affair of meaningless half-sentences punctuated by chewing and slurping. Particularly disillusioning was the fact that Harold didn't give the slightest indication that he had any inkling of what had transpired in bed between us only a few hours earlier. I began to wonder in the cold light of day if it had all been a big waste of time.
Finally, I sterilely pecked Harold and Melinda on their cheeks, sending them on their ways with stomachs full of oatmeal and orange juice. Then, before I could decide whether it was still too early to call the church, the phone rang.
"Hello, Mrs. Edwards," Rev. Worthington's voice said excitedly.
"Yes, this is she. I was just getting ready to call you."
"Did you get to the Boom Boom Room last night?" he asked breathlessly.
I told him I had, without revealing any of the particulars.
"Fantastic!" he gushed. He was really excited about something.
Needless to say, his eagerness about my evening at the Boom Boom Room made me more than slightly nervous. When I'd told the Committee I was going undercover, I'd never anticipated throwing myself into my work with quite the verve as ultimately happened.
In other words, I had my doubts they'd understand me fucking on state like I'd done.
"Well now, my, my...." I forced a metallic chuckle, trying to put some distance between myself and the pastor's apparent urgency, "what's put the bee in your bonnet this morning, Rev. Worthington?"
"My brother," he said.
"I'm afraid I don't understand."
"My brother, Ralph, just happened to be at the Boom Boom Room last night. He told me what no went on there was wild. There was one act in particular that was unbelievable."
"You have a brother who goes to places like that?" I tried to stall. "Rev. Worthington, I'm surprised."
"Ralph was with an out-of-town client," the reverend hurriedly explained, obviously anxious to get to the good part. "My brother's a good Christian, but he also has to sell life insurance to all kinds of people if he's going to put his children through college. I'm sure your husband has to make compromises in his business, too, Mrs. Edwards."
I had to agree that Harold was probably not a candidate for casting the first stone. Meaning, of course, that Rev. Worthington could stop defending his brother's patronage of the Boom Boom Room, and get back to breathlessly telling me what had happened there last night.
As if I didn't already know.
"A totally naked woman," he reported, "had oral and vaginal sex right on stage with a man whose penis was at least a foot long."
"Really," I said dryly.
"Ralph said there was so much semen all over the stage that the performers were wallowing in it. It was even splattering into the audience. His client got it all over his suit."
"Uh-huh," I murmured inconclusively.
There was an abrupt pause. I felt like I had ants in my pants as I waited for the reverend to speak again. He knew I'd been there, of course ... but how much else did he know about my presence.
"Well, did you see it, Mrs. Edwards?" he finally said, his voice cracking with expectation. "Is my brother exaggerating?"
"Uh, no," I answered in a calm voice that had no relation to my racing pulse. "It was every bit as gross as Ralph says-a real scandal."
"Good!" he exclaimed.
"Wait a minute," I tried to ferret out the source of his joy. "If you'll pardon my saying so, Rev. Worthington, you almost seem happy about the kind of so-called entertainment the Boom Boom Room presents."
"Not as happy as the District Attorney will be."
"You're going to have to back up on that one," I warily told him, my heart thumping in anticipation of what he might spring on me next.
"Based on what Ralph told me, I've already taken the liberty of setting up an appointment with the D.A. so he can get an eye-witness report," Rev. Worthington explained.
"With Ralph?"
"No, of course not. He's not a member of the Committee. With you!"
I suppressed a gulp. "Oh, I see," I finally managed.
"Yes, the D.A. wants a complete report from you on everything that happened. A description of the performers. Exactly what they did. How it affected the audience. I'm telling you, Mrs. Edwards...."
"Yes?" I anxiously interrupted.
"We're going to make an example of these people."
"I see," I whispered with creeping terror.
"The Boom Boom Room is the straw that broke the camel's back. The D.A. told me, that on the basis of your testimony, he thinks he can arouse enough support among the Grand Jury to close down the smut industry in our community once and for all. Once the participants in the Boom Boom Room are behind bars with stiff sentences, the rest of the filth industry will see the light and hightail it out of town. Aren't you happy?"
"Oh, yes, thrilled," I droned like a tape recording, while inside my fuses were blowing.
"I knew you would be," he gushed. "Your appointment with the D.A. is at ten this morning, so get on your horse. The Committee is depending on you."
After we hung up I thought about calling back and saying I had the flu or something, but finally rejected the idea. All that would do was postpone the inevitable.
No, I had to face facts. I had gotten myself in the spotlight, and now I had to do my best to keep from melting under the heat.
So I put on my most conservative outfit and went to keep the appointment. I'd just have to play it by ear.
The District Attorney was a young fellow named Gary Parrish who had been elected out of nowhere after charges of corruption had been levied against the long-time incumbent. It was well known that the new D.A. was dedicated to reform, and throwing the book at lawbreakers.
Up until now, Parrish's campaign promises had been stifled by the refusal of informants to come forward and provide evidence. Now, apparently, thanks to Rev. Worthington, I was to be his first star witness.
And, if I didn't play my cards right, perhaps his first scapegoat.
The young D.A. was waiting for me all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when I got to his office. He eagerly informed me that he had put a hold on all of his appointments so he could give me all his attention.
"I want to wipe out this filth that's ruining our community," he informed me with withering intensity. "As far as I'm concerned, if I was forced to make the choice I'd rather see the streets running like rivers with drugs than to have a single sexual misfit free. I want to sound the message loud and clear that anyone who thinks they're going to get away with sex outside the home in this community is going to wind up behind bars."
"With no exceptions?" I tentatively asked, hoping I didn't betray myself.
"No exceptions," he snapped. "Decency is like a barrel of apples. A single rotten one can spoil everything. Now tell me about what you saw last night at the Boom Boom Room."
I launched into a clinical explanation of the previous evening's activities. The way I handled it you would have thought I was a professor of anatomy rather than an actual participant.
"Tell me about the man's penis again, Mrs. Edwards," Parrish interrupted me at one point. "From what you've told me, it in itself might be part of our habeas corpus in this case."
"Well, although, as I told you, I don't have a lot of experience in these matters," I demurely said, "it was by far the largest male organ I've ever seen."
"How long was it?"
"At least a foot ... probably more."
"Obscene!" he exclaimed excitedly. "And what about the woman? What about her cunt?"
His choice of words brought the conversation to a screeching halt. As we looked at each other, his boyish face dissolved into a red glow of embarrassment.
"Excuse me," he finally muttered. "I guess I got carried away."
"It's all right," I assured him, able to play a trump card when one was unexpectedly dealt to me. "Since I've been working with the Committee, I've found that it's usually easier to deal with obscenity if you call a spade a spade. Or a cunt a cunt, as the case may be. In other words, feel free to use the real thing around me, Mr. Parrish."
It was obvious that he was immensely relieved.
And so was I. For the first time I started to feel relatively comfortable.
"So tell me about her cunt," Parrish recaptured his earlier enthusiasm. "What did it look like on that stage with the huge cock inside of it."
"Then you want me to describe the actual fucking?" I asked without batting an eyelash.
"Please ... yes, it's essential to our case, every detail."
"She'd blown him first," I calmly summarized the events leading up to the object of Parrish's interest. "He'd come like a horse all over her, but neither she nor the audience was satisfied. They wanted to see actual penetration between her legs, even though the man had gone soft."
"I see," he said with gleaming eyes, practically panting for me to continue.
"So this woman got down on the floor, spread her legs, and forcibly stuffed the man's prick in her pussy. The audience loved it."
"And the man?"
"His cock started to get hard again right away. Eventually it was as stiff as if he'd never come in her mouth in the first place."
"Then what happened?"
"They fucked and fucked. She swiveled around on the stage so the crowd could see everything. The huge cock going in and out of her tight pussy, his hairy balls squashing against her ass."
"And?"
"He finally came," I laid it on the line. "He came harder the second time than he had the first time when he'd fucked her so hard in the mouth. The jizz was flying everyplace."
Parrish was so agitated that he bolted out of his chair. Rubbing his hands together, he paced the room.
"Now describe them to me. Tell me what they looked like from the waist up. Start with the woman first. We can have composite drawings made and put out an A.P.B. on them."
This, of course, was the part I'd dreaded. With potential corroborating evidence from Rev. Worthington's brother, a false description would probably be a waste of time. On the other hand, the truth might be fatal.
However, in the time since Parrish had hopped to his feet and I'd gotten a full view of him, there'd been an unforeseen development which softened my dilemma a great deal.
A softening of my dilemma that was paradoxically hard. As hard as his erect cock bulging like a rock under the taut crotch of his trousers. Obviously he had become so turned-on by our explicit conversation that he was on the verge of coming in his pants.
As I gazed at his aroused meat throbbing just beneath the surface, I had an inspiration. In a flash, a way out occurred to me.
Getting up from my chair, I walked over to him and made no bones about staring right between his legs. His pulsing cock practically tore the fabric trying to leap out at me when it was clear I'd noticed its condition.
Parrish started to mutter some sort of lame apology, but I cut him off. I was making up the rules from now on.
"Not only can I give you a description of the woman," I calmly informed him, "I can give you her name. But only under two conditions."
"What are they?" he gasped.
"One, that you agree to give her immunity," I said evenly.
"Impossible."
"Wait, you haven't heard the second condition."
"Yes?"
"That you take your hard cock out of your pants and fuck me with it right now."
He looked at me like I'd just given him the key to breaking up the Mafia.
Especially when I lifted up my skirt and showed him how dripping wet the crotch of my panties was for his stiff prick. He may have been a crime-busting D.A., but no state's evidence had ever excited him as much as the sight of my sopping pussy.
While he was still groping for words, I got rid of my clothes as quickly as possible. Then, nude, I started to work on peeling him as bare as I was.
By the time the hot flesh of my exposed loins was rubbing against his, his cock was standing out from his body like it had been constructed from an erector set. At the same time, the pussy juice was running down my thighs in torrents.
"You've got a big cock," I breathed hotly in his ear as I embraced him. "I love the way it rubs against my throbbing cunt. I can't wait to get it inside me. Do you think you can come in me at least a quart?"
All of his objections to my plea-bargaining had vanished. He was no longer the no-nonsense D.A., but just another horny man with a hot, throbbing cock. The lure of my hungry pussy had transformed him into a sex-machine.
We seemed to float over to his desk. Within moments we were positioning ourselves on top of it, preparing to fuck.
Spreading my legs to the ultimate, I presented my cunt to him like a hairy valentine. Gripping his arrow of love, I guided it on a straight line for the lush target between my thighs.
He was inside me instantly, as though we had been carrying on an affair for years rather than screwing for the first time. Although his cock was not as big as some of the others I had been dealing with lately, it seemed made for the inside of my pussy. As we fucked, it literally grooved to the spasming core of my being.
"Oh, you're so hard," I moaned. "I love your hard prick inside my pussy. You know just how to fuck me."
Pleased by my compliment, he redoubled his efforts to give me everything I wanted. Going deeper and deeper up my fuck-hole, the barbed end of his tool touched places that made me come. Although we had only begun to make love, I was already sweating like a pig from coming so hard.
I forgot all about my ulterior motives for initiating our intimacy. It was sheer pleasure that sent my hand under the conjunction of our genitals and spurred my fingers in a search for his asshole. By now I lusted to experience all of him I could, regardless of the eventual outcome.
My tongue ran across my lips from excitement when I felt how tight and gooey his asshole was. The anal muscles contracted around my knuckle, pulling the digit inside until the tip pressed against the unmistakable lump of his prostate.
Slowly working my finger in a circular motion, I teased his gland until it was more like stone than body tissue. The pressure it was putting on his sperm ducts must have been maddeningly intense.
In the meantime, his cock seemed to be growing larger in my cunt as I finger-fucked his ass. He was screwing me so deeply it felt like he was tearing me in two.
I was so excited that I raised my head and peered over Parrish's shoulder so I could see his beautiful cock slide in and out of my wetly grasping cunt. Just watching the pumping motion of his sleek tool was enough to make me start coming twice as hard as I'd already been doing.
It was fantastic. My orgasm was shattering my senses and he hadn't even creamed in me yet. This was the most incredibly sensual fuck I'd ever experienced.
The pleasure was so intense that my groaning became louder and louder, until, finally I was screaming at the top of my lungs. Crying out shamelessly, I begged to be fucked harder and harder, deeper and deeper, more and more brutally. My pussy throbbed and spasmed and sucked as I came like I'd never come before.
I was still screaming when he placed his hands under my legs and pushed them up to his shoulders. Then, with my finger still in his asshole, he got to his knees and rammed the horn of his cock into me like an enraged bull, deliciously goring me.
In and out his punishing prong traveled. My twat felt like it was twisting into knots and the volume of my screaming increased to a deafening wail.
I'd already come more in a few minutes with the District Attorney than I ever had with my husband, or any other man. And, incredibly, it seemed like I was just beginning. My cunt was creaming like someone had emptied a jar of mayonnaise between my legs.
Insanely anxious now to sample his hot jizz, I pulled the plug on his ass. As my hooked finger came spurting from his rectum with the aid of a sudden fart, his balls slammed against the mouth of my pussy, his dick lurched an extra inch up my fuck-hole, and he came at last.
Like an artery had been severed inside me, the cavity of my pussy filled with gushing liquid warmth. The excess came spurting from the engorged corners of my labia almost immediately. Suddenly my wriggling ass was drenched with leaking cum.
After an eruption like this one, I expected Parrish to gradually slow down, and then finally withdraw from me with a limp prick. However, to my astonishment, the more he came, the harder his fantastic tool seemed to get. Coming was apparently just foreplay for this stud.
Even though the spurting had ceased, the young D.A.'s rigid cock was still jack-hammering away. The walls of my pussy would be black and blue for days from the battering they were taking.
By now my orgasmic rainbow was streaked with pain. Hot, wonderful, vibrant pain that was so excruciating it added a whole new dimension to coming. The more my cunt ached, the better my senses liked it.
I couldn't for the life of me figure out why his cock felt so enormous inside me. Sure, Parrish had a decently sized hard-on to begin with, but in terms of sheer dimensions it didn't compare with some of the monstrosities I'd been sampling lately. Truthfully, I doubted that it was any larger than even my husband's dork on an inch-for-inch basis.
So where was the magic coming from? The magic engorging my spread loins that made it feel as though I'd sat on a fire-plug.
Ever since Parrish had become D.A. the media had referred to him as a boy-wonder. However, that was presumably for his prosecuting abilities, not his fucking prowess.
In any case, though, the nickname was apt. Boy-wonder was right. His cock was as tireless as any boy's.
In fact, its only difference from a horny teenager's was that it seemed twice as thick once it filled a woman's cunt than any inexperienced youth's could be.
Right now he was pumping that phallic thickness with such vigor that it was difficult to believe he'd already come in me once. His strokes were bolder and longer than ever before, the friction wonderfully unbearable.
His prick was rasping me like a file, pulling in and out in pistoning thrusts of several inches apiece. During one instant he would be buried within me to the hilt, his balls nestled between the cheeks of my ass. Then, with a gasp, he would pull all the way out until only his cockhead was still inserted in my cunt, my pussy lips desperately clutching it.
Then, wham, he was back inside again to the hilt.
Whooosh, he was out.
Oooommppphh, he was in.
Skidding and out.
Squishing and in.
Out!
In!
Out!
In!
This was fucking as I'd never known it before. Illicit sex with the man who had been elected by his fellow citizens to wipe out immorality in the community once and for all.
Once-and-for-all, my mind suddenly captured the key phrase.
Of course, that was it! How could I have been so blind? This was sex at its purest. Sex with the champion of decency.
Anyone could have sex with her husband, for heaven's sake, as I had been dutifully doing for years.
Or with pornographers and smut-peddlers, who, after all, were as disposed to fuck as rabbits in their mindless immorality.
But this man was different. Fucking with this man was a privilege. Any woman who wrapped her legs around him and felt his hard cock in her cunt had scaled the heights. Illicit sex with the man most committed to do battle with illicit sex was the most unique form of love-making possible.
You couldn't just spread your legs to get a man like this to fuck you. You had to be something special.
In getting this man to fuck me I had scaled the peak I'd never anticipated climbing when I entered the fray against obscenity. His cock blasting away in my tight cunt was like an award for all the hard work I had put into the cause.
It really wasn't illicit sex at all, I determined. Just exceptionally special. A perfect colloboration between two combatants for decency that was too pure for the rest of the world to understand.
His big prick in my wet twat was a symbol for everything both of us were fighting for. The pact for decency, and against evil, was sealed by the meshing of our throbbing loins.
Under the circumstances, I felt I had no alternative but to tell him the truth. Even as he was ramming me to the hilt with one of his battering strokes, I had no hesitation in telling him, "I was the girl in the floor-show at the Boom Boom Room last night. I took that foot-long cock in the same cunt you're fucking now."
"Was it as good as mine?" he asked, as his prick moved in and out between my legs.
"The forces of evil can never equal the forces for good," I assured him. "I've never been fucked by any prick, including that monster last night, that made me feel as good as yours. Or, should I say, as clean. I am your ally in the war against indecency till the bitter end."
"If everyone were like you, Mrs. Edwards," he pronounced hotly in my ear, while the tip of his cock seemed to burrow into my womb, "the world would be a lot better place to live in."
There was no point in any further conversation. We had come to a meeting of the minds as perfect as the meeting of his cock in my cunt. All that was left to do now was finish fucking.
As I watched his beautiful dick drive into my hungry pussy again and again, I went insane with arousal. I bounced back and forth on his cock furiously.
Grabbing my pulsing tits, he gouged his fingers like spikes into the soft flesh around my turgid nipples. Below, his greasy pole slid in and out of my pussy until we were both babbling with exotic agony, total prisoners of one another's fiery loins.
My cunt throbbed and tightened until I thought it would shred his meat into hamburger. The noose of my pussy seized his prick at the root and came just short of snapping it off from his loins.
His cock was buried so deeply within me that I felt like it was part of me. For an instant I was convinced I would spend the rest of my life with ten inches of male organ w-edged irrevocably between my legs.
My coming grew beyond all limits of definition. Orgasmic flames licked against the banks of my soul until I was a primitive, shrieking animal, frothing at the mouth in my quest for release.
"Come!" I screamed. "Fill my cunt with your sticky, hot decency!"
His roiling balls squashed maddeningly against my tingling pussy lips. There was no alternative but to squeal like he was branding me with a red-hot poker when, at last, I felt his sizzling cum shoot into the convulsing depths of my fuck-hole.
He pulled out, then rammed it in again, repeating the process over and over again as his cock spurted endlessly up my cunt. The center of my body was swamped with his thick fluid. My internal organs felt like they were drowning in the ocean of his pure sperm.
My own coming soared to new heights. The orgasmic feeling within me totally dominated my body so that I shivered like I was having a massive seizure.
Then, finally, after what seemed an eternity of spurting, he stopped ejaculating and draped limply over me with his cock still in my pussy. His rich cum rolled thickly out of me, running down my legs in a syrupy torrent.
Both the inside and outside of my body were sticky with the results of two outpourings of jism. Sweat poured from my armpits, face, tits and ass. Congealing pussy juice crystallized at the corners of my groin. I could bathe for a week and I'll probably never get it all off.
Yet, I felt cleaner than I ever had in my life. This fuck had taught me a valuable lesson I could never afford to forget.
As beguiling as the wrong road in life might be, it could never match the power of the right one.
In my crusade against smut, I had to admit I'd been secretly tempted by the foe many times. However, nothing that evil offered could match a perfect mating of good intentions.
My interlude with the District Attorney proved that good could still triumph when right-thinking people pooled their assets. Together, the D.A. and I were a team that could not be defeated.
The scum that would drag our community down into the slime would really have to look out now!
CHAPTER TEN
The honeymoon was over as far as the smut peddlers were concerned. A reign of terror against obscenity was launched that was unrelenting. The police, the Grand Jury, and the courts were working overtime.
As a charter member of the Committee for Decency, and the District Attorney's closest advisor, I was right in the thick of things. Working at a command post with D.A. Parrish, I was instrumental in orchestrating a coordinated plan of attack that struck at the very heart of the filth industry.
The jail population swelled. The usual thieves, rapists and murderers were at long last rightfully joined behind bars by their logical brothers and sisters in wrongdoing, the pornographers.
The community was almost instantaneously revitalized by the campaign. Buildings that had passively been given over to massage parlors, bottomless night clubs, and adult book stores, returned to wholesome use as laundromats, auto parts stores, fast-food outlets, and the like. The Boom Boom Room, for example, was restored to a trading stamp redemption center.
By the time six months had passed, the area was scrubbed clean. Any misfit seeking public display of sex would have to travel somewhere else to find it.
Needless to say, all of us involved in the crusade were elated. I can't describe the thrill involved when one traveled down streets that were free of moral litter.
When the struggle had finally been won, naturally there was a desire to celebrate our triumph. A victory dinner was scheduled for those of us who had been most intimately involved in the project. Hosted by the District Attorney, it was symbolically held in the Grand Jury room one evening, where we all enjoyed a wholesome dinner of franks, beans and potato salad.
Rev. Worthington was there, along with the most active members of the Committee for Decency. Prominent city officials were invited. Naturally, D.A. Parrish was the after-dinner speaker.
Sitting between the Chief of Police and the Mayor, I got goose-bumps listening to the D.A. describe how far we had come. Gary, as I'd come to call him, had never been so dynamic as on this night.
"In the beginning," he intoned, "the streets were running sewers of filth. I don't exaggerate when I say that we were as up to our necks in garbage as if there'd been a sanitation men's strike."
The audience clapped, and he continued.
"I know you all remember what our community used to be like, but I'd like to give you a graphic reminder just in case we might be inclined to rest on our laurels. Projectionist, please."
The light suddenly dimmed and the whir of a movie screen being mechanically lowered filled the room.
"All right," Gary picked up his commentary again, "in just a second you'll see some typical examples of the kind of smut that used to be available over the counter in any adult book store. I've taken the liberty of splicing numerous scenes together in this composite. I beg you to remember how prevalent this type of material used to be at some time in the future when you start to take decency for granted."
The screen abruptly filled up with the scandalous sight of a man's enormous prick pumping inside a woman's mouth. She was taking him to the hilt.
A hush fell over the room immediately. Even though most of us had been involved with pornography for half a year, its explicit display still retained its shock value.
"Notice how the actors show no trace of shame," Gary pointed out. "At the time this was filmed they were convinced they were the ones in the right, and the rest of us were just silly squares. Their performances reek of contempt for you and me."
He had a point there. The only emotion the orally fucking man and woman showed was sheer hedonistic pleasure. There wasn't the slightest indication they suspected they were doing something terribly wrong.
The man in the film bucked forward and then ejaculated in the woman's mouth. The excess cream welled in her oral cavity and began foaming from the corners of her lips. By the time he had finished spurting and pulled out, there was a huge grin creasing her sperm-soaked countenance.
"Notice her reaction," Gary pointed out, his voice quivering with disgust. "She acts like she's proud of what she's done. She's smiling so broadly that the semen is dripping from her teeth."
The film abruptly cut to a different couple, this one degrading the human anatomy by utilizing the man's hard-on and the woman's asshole. She was over on all fours like a bitch in heat while he butt-fucked her to the hilt.
"Our research shows," Gary informed us, "that the likelihood is that this man and woman never saw each other before they were hired for this film. They shared nothing but a greed for money, and parts of the body that could be fit together in disgusting union. Not only is what they're doing a crime against nature, but there is absolutely none of the romantic love present that society demands as a prerequisite for acceptable sex."
He came in her ass and the white cum drooled down the backs of her thighs. For a finish, she rolled over and sucked off what remained of the jism his prick had to offer.
"Now this is one of the foulest examples," Gary introduced the next sequence. "The pornographers are not even content with perverting the relationship between male and female. In their lust for profits, they are even willing to exploit the mental illness of homosexuality."
A pair of lesbians flashed on the screen. A tight close-up between one's thighs revealed the other one's stiff tongue plunging in and out of the former's hairy pussy in a perfect replica of a fucking cock. The glistening juice that spilled out of the tongue-stuffed twat was absolutely disgusting in its volume.
"Wow," the Mayor turned and whispered in my ear, "this is really hot stuff. Unless you knew the facts, it would be hard to keep from getting excited watching this kind of thing."
"Precisely," I whispered back. "That was why it was so vital to get it out of circulation. Nobody is immune from such filth."
"Thank God we've got the facts," the Mayor rasped. "I wonder what the D.A.'s got on tap next."
We immediately found out as a new segment appeared. This one was the most shocking of all.
"The pornographers are not content with merely debasing human beings," Gary gravely intoned. "They would even stoop to cruelty to dumb, helpless animals. Nothing is safe from these fiends."
I thought I'd seen everything by now, but this one surprised even me. Before my eyes, a collie dog that resembled that American symbol of wholesomeness, Lassie, was actually fucking a naked woman. And she was smiling, obviously loving the feel of his bestial hard-on in her dripping pussy!
"If you could hear the soundtrack from the original film," Gary informed us, "you'd hear the dog whimpering. Believe me, it might not look like it at first glance, but he's suffering."
"How do you feel about having been the Mayor of a community that supported that kind of bile?" I resumed my conversation with the chief executive.
I expected that he would admit that he wasn't too proud. However, the response that hit my ears was a low, throaty groan.
"Your Honor, are you all right?" I asked, knowing that he was in his sixties, and had already had one heart attack a few years ago.
When there was no reply but more moaning in the dark, I leaned over to see what I could do. "Do you need medical attention?" I urgently inquired.
"Unnnhhh ... unnnhhh ... unnnhhh," he grunted. His breath was coming in the wheezing gasps of someone in deep physical distress.
Not wanting to alarm the rest of the audience without cause, I decided to check things out myself to be sure the Mayor really needed help before I broke up the gathering with a cry for an ambulance.
Reaching into his lap, I searched for his wrist so I could take his pulse.
Well, I found his heartbeat, all right, and it was pounding. However, the tell-tale artery had its location in a portion of his anatomy that was connected to his hand only through a process of stroking.
In other words, His Honor was masturbating, and I'd just inadvertently wrapped my fingers around his stiff dick. There they joined his own digits as unwitting accessories to the beating of his meat.
I didn't dare speak out because I'd alert the rest of the audience to what was happening. After their collective triumph in defeating obscenity, I couldn't bring myself to dampen their spirits by revealing that their own chief executive was so turned-on by pornography he couldn't refrain from jacking-off in public.
It became clear that the most logical thing for me to do was to help the Mayor through his secret activity and get him back to normal before the lights came on. His ejaculation would be messy, but not as messy as his constituents finding out he hadn't the will-power to resist the very force which they had fought so hard to defeat.
Not wanting to risk being overheard, I said nothing more. Letting my hand do my talking for me, I constricted my fingers around the part of his cock that wasn't already embraced by his own, and began pumping.
I was surprised at what a big prick he had. In all the years he had been in the public eye, I'd never even considered what he had between his legs. The answer was about ten inches.
In the meantime, the screen was continuing to flash a visual medley of obscenity. The D.A. had really succeeded in compiling the most telling catalogue of smut possible. And, as I stroked the Mayor's pulsing cock, I couldn't help but wonder if it had paradoxically created any other hard-ons in the assemblage.
While I continued to manipulate the Mayor's pulsating tool, my curiosity turned my head over toward the direction of the Chief of Police seated on my left. How was he reacting, I wondered.
I wished I hadn't looked. Even in the dark I could see that crimson pole contrasting with the royal blue of his uniform.
Yes, his fly was just as open as the Mayor's, and his prick standing out just as stiffly. He groaned under his breath, as he jerked off to the sight of an orgy taking place on the screen in front of him.
Now my dilemma was repeated all over again. For the sake of the crowd's morale, I could no more let the Chiefs weakness be detected than I could the Mayor's. If I helped one masturbate, I was obligated to assist the other.
Soon my left hand was replicating the stroking activity of my right. What made it even more of a copy was that the Chief's hard-on seemed to have exactly the same dimensions as His Honor's. I felt as though I were looking at myself in the mirror.
I'd like to report to you that the weakening of moral fiber stopped with the two men I've just described. In retrospect, how much easier it would be to be able to tell you now that I jacked the pair of them off, and the incident was over except for wiping up the cum.
However, the D.A.'s film of pornographic highlights had had an effect on the gathering that no one had anticipated. Gradually I became aware of the funny noises around me that could have no other source than genital stimulation.
"Jennifer," I leaned forward and whispered to my best friend on the Committee, "what are you doing? I hate to say this-and forgive me if I'm wrong-but it sounds like you're finger-fucking yourself. I can hear the squishing all the way back here."
"Well, I'm not," she replied under her panting breath.
"Thank God," I sighed.
"The guy next to me is doing it," she giggled.
That would be the Zoning Commissioner.
And from the slapping of flesh that now became distinct to my ears, she didn't have to tell me what she was doing to his cock.
The movie we were watching had not been prepared with a soundtrack. Now, however, it had one anyway. The slurps and moans and squishes and squeaking from the audience perfectly complemented the lewd action on the screen. The audience had completely lost control of itself.
Before I had wondered how many cocks in the crowd had been adversely affected by the film. Now my conjecture turned to pussies.
For one thing, there was a big, wet, hairy one filling the screen, its pink lips overflowing with goo. Then there was the noisy digital smacking emanating from Jennifer's in the row in front of me.
And, I'm sorry to say this, not the least consideration was the condition of my own.
Yes, as much as I hated to admit it, even I had genitally submitted to the steamy atmosphere that made the Grand Jury room humid with lust. When I rubbed my itchy thighs together I realized that my cunt was absolutely sopping.
Unable to help myself, my attention began to drift from my original moralistic concern. Before I was fully aware of the impact of the transition, I was shamelessly concentrating on the possibility of getting one of the hard-ons I was gripping stuffed between my legs.
Too far gone to correct my randy drift, I leaned toward the Mayor and asked, "Can you fuck me? I'm just as bad off as you are, Your Honor."
"Wait a minute, young lady," the Chief of Police said from my rear, "don't count me out of the action. I'm as horny as anybody in this room."
"But how can the three of us do it?" I protested. "It's impossible."
"Sit on the Mayor's lap with his cock in your pussy and let me fuck you in the mouth," he suggested.
"Keep your voice down, or we'll all be in trouble," I hissed.
"Nobody will be in any trouble unless I say so," he reminded me. "Don't forget, I may be as horny as hell, but I'm still the Chief of Police."
"And if I refuse?" I queried.
"I'll arrest you and everybody else in the place on morals charges," he chuckled. "Anything I say goes."
"And you say to start fucking and sucking," I summed it up with a sigh. "That's the law."
The thought of the Committee for Decency and half the municipal officials winding up in jail along with the pornographers they had helped lock up was mind-boggling. The Chief was wielding leverage that could not be thwarted.
However, the truth was that his argument was not even the most persuasive inducement to my participation in his lewd plan. As powerful as his threats were, my spasming pussy was an even more insistent force. Throughout my conversation with the Chief, I hadn't been able to forget for a second how wet my cunt was.
There was no denying it to myself any longer. If I would welcome the Mayor's prick between my legs, I was just as eager for another one in my mouth. When one hole in a woman's body became hungry for cock, the others automatically followed suit. It's the way God made us.
As the Chief pushed me out of my seat and up on the Mayor's cock-filled lap, I guess you could say my conscience knew what I was doing was wrong and my creaming pussy insisted it was right. However, in the contest between the two, anybody betting on the former would have been a first-class sucker.
Besides, if there was any tendency to waver on my part, it vanished the instant my thighs spread over the Mayor's crotch and I first felt his hard-on bumping around under my skirt. If it felt that good rubbing against my flanks, how would it feel pistoning inside my tight cunt?
Adopting a hands-off policy and permitting me to guide his prick into my fuck-hole all by myself, His Honor let me do the honors of penetration. Without a wasted motion, I had the crown of his dick sliding between my slippery labia lickety-split. As inch after inch of thick shaft followed his cockhead, we both moaned in pleasurable unison.
The only harsh note, as the squishing sound of the Mayor's cock pumping in my cunt lapped against my ears, was the snorting impatience of the Chief of Police. He sounded more like a wild boar than a city official.
Oh, well, I calmly told myself, secure now that my twat was filled with meat, I have more than enough holes to go along. As a good citizen, I prided myself on supporting our local police.
With my back to the Mayor, it was an easy enough task to lean forward and accommodate the Chief. Especially since he was kneeling right before us, his cock aimed in front of him like a .38 special.
His dick had a cold metallic taste that ordinarily would have turned me off. However, under the circumstances, I just equated it with his job. Cops had to be hard and cold to do their duty.
Anyway, I was certain that before this was over I'd get behind his badge and heat him up good and proper.
As I sucked and fucked, I had a perfect view of what was going on in the movie. Cum-shots splashed across the screen, cock after cock shooting its wad. A parade of pussies, mouths, assholes, tits and bellies were drenched, each becoming whiter than the last. There was enough sperm squirting around to populate the world.
In addition, a din of slurping and squishing arose from the spectators. The Grand Jury room, where so many pornographers had been indicted, had become a passion pit.
There probably wasn't a person there not getting some kind of action. We were more like a bunch of horny kids at a drive-in than a Committee for Decency.
When I heard a woman's voice shamelessly call for her partner to come in her, I spontaneously did the same. A cock engorging my mouth didn't stop me from getting my message across to my two highly placed lovers.
I didn't care who heard me ... just didn't care. If I couldn't be proud of the Mayor and the Chief of Police coming in me, then democracy was dead. This was citizen participation in government at its most elemental.
"Oooooommmmppphhh!" His Honor grunted. Quickly following, his spurting cock filled my cunt with hot cum.
"Aaaaaaahhhhh," the Chief sighed. His previously cold hard-on turned white-hot and flooded my throat with something more like molten lava than ordinary jism.
Both of my holes sucked like crazy, the sphincters gobbling up every drop of spunk possible. Then, when there was more than enough to accommodate their twin thirsts, the excess reversed the original flow of each spigot of cum. All of a sudden it was oozing from the corners of both sets of cock-engorged lips.
My thighs and face felt like they were melting as the hot cream dripped from them. I imagined that every other woman in the room was having something of the same experience.
When the screen went dark, signaling the movie was over, you've never heard such frantic activity. Thank God whoever was in charge of the lights was discreet enough to wait until we all got our cocks and cunts back into place and wiped most of the sperm from our bodies.
As it was, when the lights finally went on, and we all filed out of the Grand Jury room, there were a lot of red faces.
However, there was just as many knowing smiles.
As for myself, I looked at our mass action as the just dessert for a job well done. Thanks to us, smut was gone from the community and the people were safe again.
If the censors couldn't be trusted to handle sex, then who could?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
So it was over and I had to return to my familiar role as wife and mother. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't something of a letdown after all the excitement I'd been through.
Housework seemed pretty tame after being on the frontline of the fight against pornography. Even though I knew intellectually that homemaking was one of the cornerstones of the American way of life, and that any woman should be pleased with her God-given role in the care and feeding of her family, something was missing. As much as I tried to fight it, emotionally I was as flat as a pancake.
Part of the reason for my discontent had to do with the attitudes of my husband and daughter toward me. I had expected Harold and Melinda to be proud of the work I had done with the Committee for Decency. Instead, they treated me like a domestic servant who had inconvenienced by taking too much time off from her duties.
Harold was more irritable that he had ever been during our marriage. I just couldn't seem to do anything right as far as he was concerned.
The promise of the intimacy we had established when I had pierced his dreams with my body, faded almost from the moment the campaign against smut had been won. Deep in my heart I suspected that he resented me terribly for being instrumental in taking the prostitutes off the streets.
Harold could apparently only get it up when he had illicit sex on his mind. Even when he was screwing his wife, in his dreams he liked to imagine he was making it with a street hooker.
Once the whores had all but been run out of town, he had no more fodder for his imagination. He apparently was sexually incapacitated without the stimulus of the forbidden.
So our sex-life was no more-a paradoxical casualty of the very movement in which I'd taken such a leading part. I'd been indirectly responsible for cutting off my supply of sex from my own husband.
However, as depressing as my situation with my husband had become, it was my daughter that caused me the most heartache. Melinda acted as though she hardly knew me. "Hello" and "goodbye" were just about the extent of our interchange, and even those were muttered meaninglessly by her as though she were saying them to a passing acquaintance she had run into on the street.
Obviously she resented my relative absence from the home while I'd been fighting smut, and felt I'd neglected her. Now, in her adolescent way, she was getting even.
Naturally this made me feel terribly guilty. After all, my entrance into the war against obscenity had been because of Melinda in the first place. It was exceedingly painful to accept the ironic fact that my very concern as a devoted parent had ultimately placed a barrier between us.
Finally I decided to confront her. Maybe if she heard my side of the story she would understand why it had been necessary for me to be away from her for so long.
I cornered her one afternoon after school when she went into her bedroom to change clothes. When I walked in she was clad only in her panties and bra, in between slipping out of her sweater and skirt and into her jeans and sweatshirt. It was the first time I'd seen her unclothed body since that day I'd eavesdropped on her masturbating.
"Hello," she said in the toneless way she had recently perfected when speaking to me. "What do you want?"
"Melinda, I'd like to talk to you ... mother-todaughter," I told her.
"Well, you're the mother and I'm your daughter, and we're already talking, so I guess you've got your wish," she responded snidely.
I decided to ignore that, and walked over and sat down on the bed so she could see I intended to stay. Apparently in a huff because I had intruded on her privacy, she kept her back to me. Rather than establishing eye-contact, I found myself staring at the tight encasement of the cheeks of her firm little ass in her all-but-transparent panties. I could see her crack running up her backside like a highway on a map.
"You're a beautiful girl, Melinda," I found myself saying, "it's a shame you have to act so ugly at times."
"What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped with her back still toward me. In her irritation, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other and her perfectly molded buns rubbed together.
"It's just that I would think that you would be more understanding of why I wasn't able to give you as much attention as we both would've liked over the past few months," I laid my cards on the table.
"Oh, you mean with all that porno bullshit you were into," she shocked me with her language.
"Well, I wouldn't put it quite that way," I replied evenly, just barely restraining my temper. "I'd prefer to think of what I was doing as a community service."
Instead of saying anything, she contemptuously twitched her ass, daring me to explain myself.
"Obscenity was a terrible problem in our community, Melinda," I tried to convince her of my sincerity. "Do you know what pornography is?"
"Sure," she brassily replied, "pictures of people doing it ... Fucking."
I decided I'd deal with her ill-chosen words at some later date. Now I would excuse if if it would help us get to the point.
"Did you know," I continued, "that before the Committee for Decency, anybody could get their hands on that filth? Anybody at all-even minors. Children!"
"Like me, Mother?" she whirled around and spat at me. "Like that dirty book you found on my bed that night when you were spying on me?"
I was stunned. I'd never suspected until this moment that she'd known I was peeping through the door.
"Well, Mother, are you going to admit it?" she insisted.
Under the circumstances, there was no point in denying it. I nodded my head in admission. It was painful, but I knew there could never be any trust between us unless I told her the truth.
"It was all an accident," I tried to explain my actions. "Believe me, I wasn't trying to catch you in anything."
"But when you saw me playing with my pussy, you went nuts, huh, Mother?" she said sarcastically.
"Yes," I tried to convince her. "That's exactly how it happened. Then, after you'd gone, and I found the magazine that had caused you to abuse yourself, I knew that I had to do something. I realized that not only my own daughter, but countless other teenagers, were being dragged down by that trash."
"Mother," she smirked, "I'm afraid I've got something to tell you that's going to burst your little bubble."
"Yes?" I responded apprehensively.
"I don't need any dirty magazine to get it on with myself," she pummeled me with her words like they were fists. "It doesn't take me anything to get horny but my own imagination."
"You mean you've continued to masturbate?" I asked in stunned breathlessness.
"Whenever I can't get a boy to fuck me or one of my girlfriends to go down on me," she absolutely floored me.
Petrified with shock, I couldn't respond.
"I'm a big girl now, Mother," she continued. "If you don't believe me, I'll just give you a little sample."
Before my bulging eyes her panties were rolling down her thighs and the triangular beard of her pussy bristled into the open. To my horror, it was shiny from wetness.
Then, as she stepped out of her panties, she unhooked her bra and let it flutter to the floor. . Her bare tits jiggled up and down, joining the sight of her exposed twat.
Even in my shock I had to admit that she was a beautiful girl. In fact, her nudity seemed to enhance her attractiveness. Once one laid eyes on her blossoming breasts and glossy cunt, she was irresistible.
It made me wince to acknowledge it, but I could see how the other boys and girls would want to make love to her. Her body was so undeniably alluring that it seemed made for sex, whether I, as her mother, approved of it or not.
"Look how I'm sticking my fingers inside my pussy," she taunted me, as she dropped her hand between her thighs and began probing within herself. "If I want to, I can get every one of them inside. When I'm all alone and feeling really horny, I fist-fuck myself. It makes me come in buckets."
"Stop!" I begged.
"Buckets, Mother, buckets!"
To show me she wasn't kidding, she'd inserted every one of her fingers between the now bulging lips of her cunt. With her wrist engorging her gash like the shaft of a huge prick, she began working her clenched fist back and forth inside. The wet sounds of knuckles fucking filled the bedroom.
"How do you like it now, Mother?" she badgered me. "Did you really think you could stop my pussy from being hot by getting rid of all the dirty magazines?"
I felt like such a fool. How could I have been so naive as to think the power of sex could be stamped out by just closing down a few businesses?
"My mind's dirtier than any magazine or movie," she continued to torture me, " and no blue-nose can control that."
She was right, of course. All the censors in the world couldn't get inside anybody's head. The explicitness of the sex-trade placed next to the lewd capabilities of the human imagination couldn't compare.
In the final analysis, if people wanted to turn themselves on, there was no way anybody else could stop them, regardless of their age. A fifteen-year-old girl could make her pussy as wet as a grown woman's, just as any boy could make his dick hard.
The war against obscenity had been pointless. A futile joke. People loved sex and they were going to enjoy it no matter what, no matter how old they were.
Melinda painfully reminded me of this some more when she said, "Do you want to know exactly what I'm thinking now? I guarantee it'll blow your mind."
Dumbly I nodded my head. By now I was hopelessly transfixed by the sight of my daughter's shimmeringly naked body, so obviously bent on achieving orgasm before my eyes.
"You probably assume I'm thinking about a big cock, or something," she said, "but I'm not. What I'm thinking about is you, Mother. You!"
I flinched. It frightened me what she could be getting at.
"I'm thinking about you with no clothes on," she revealed. "About what you've got between your legs. You know, Mother, I don't think I've ever really seen your cunt. What's it like?"
Needless to say, I was unable to answer. My shock was paralyzing.
"I know you don't get along with Daddy in bed," she cruelly went on. "I know if he makes your pussy wet it's just an accident."
"Please stop!" I forced myself to say.
"I'll bet with the right person your cunt could get as wet as mine is right now. That it would be positively dripping."
I hated to think what she could be getting at.
Then she laid it on me. "I could make your pussy wet, Mother. In fact, I bet I've made it wet already."
With that she walked toward me, and before I could move, removed her hand from between her legs and ripped my skirt from my body. Suddenly my panties were the only thing shielding me from the waist down.
And when we both looked at them the mystery was over. Melinda's charges were true. They were positively soaking.
"Don't fight it, Mother," she said as she ran her fingers over my throbbing crotch. "You know you want to make love to me."
I tried to tell her she was wrong, but my vocal cords were frozen. When I tried to shake my head, my neck was locked.
"You'd like to get on that bed with me," Melinda continued, "and get between my spread legs and eat my cunt while I'm eating yours. We'd make each other come and come and come."
While she was talking her fingers had slipped beneath the elastic of my panties and entwined themselves in my pubic hair. By the time she'd finished speaking, her fingertips were running up and down the slick ravine formed by my throbbing pussy lips.
I finally responded when she found my clitoris. "Oh, God," I blurted as she expertly pressed the sensitive joy-button. "Oh, sweet Jesus, God!"
"Tell me you need it," she demanded. "Tell Melinda how much you want it."
I couldn't restrain myself any longer. I wanted my daughter's naked body so badly I couldn't stand it.
The walls finally crumbled and I pleaded, "Love me, Melinda! Please get on the bed and love me!"
In a flash she had pulled the rest of the clothing from my body and we were nakedly embracing on the bed. Our tits and cunts squashed together and there was no turning back.
"Come on," Melinda whispered hotly in my ear after we had shared a deep soul-kiss, "let's eat each other's cunts. I can't wait to get my tongue inside your pussy."
Shifting around on the bed, we assumed the sixty-nine position, lying side-by-side. My nostrils flared from the pungent scent of my daughter's gushing twat.
Without hesitation, I closed the lips of my mouth over the lips of her cunt. Making it doubly sweet was that Melinda did the same thing to me simultaneously.
Our tongues shot into our fuck-holes and began to squirm. In tandem, we wriggled our asses to promote the maximum penetration.
As we made oral love, our hands roamed over our bodies. My fingers squeezed Melinda's firm, young tits and played with her nipples, while hers found my asshole and began to ream me out.
I had had plenty of experiences since I'd gotten involved in the underworld of sex, but this was my most thrilling. If I'd recognized my daughter's charms that first day I saw her masturbating, I might have saved myself a lot of time and trouble.
Yes, it was clear now that I'd been searching for something when I'd enlisted in the war against smut. Some excitement that was missing in my everyday life as a housewife. Something to give my ordinary life meaning.
I'd thought I could find it in community service. And while it was true I'd found temporary meaning through my involvement with Rev. Worthington, the Committee for Decency, and the District Attorney, when it was all over I was left with the same old emptiness.
Now the exhilaration for which I'd searched had finally arrived. Who would have ever guessed I'd find it between my daughter's legs?
"Oh, Mom, I'm coming," she moaned into my crotch. "I'm already starting to come."
"Me, too," I assured her, feeling her pubic hair scratch against my gums. "I'm coming harder than I ever have in my life. I love your cunt more than anything else in the world."
It was a shocking confession, but both of us were so overwhelmed with passion that we took it in stride. Of course, by now, our stride was the jerking lope of continuous mutual orgasm.
"Have you ever been fucked by another woman?" Melinda asked after several minutes of incessant climax had left us drenched with sweat and each other's pussy juice.
"No," I admitted. "But if you can figure out a way to do it I'll spread my legs as far as they'll go."
"I was hoping you'd say that," she said. "I've got something you're going to love."
Before I could question her further, she pulled out of my oral embrace and hopped off the bed. Bounding across the room, she went to the dresser, opened the top drawer, and extracted something which I immediately recognized.
It was the dildo I'd seen that day so long ago. The dildo I'd watched my daughter fuck herself with.
Now, as she advanced toward me holding it straight out in front of her, it was clear that she intended to fuck me with it.
I couldn't wait!
Rolling over on my back, I spread my legs in the classic fucking position. God, how I wanted that monster splitting my cunt until it wasn't visible to the naked eye.
"Do it to me, Melinda, do it to me!" I cried. "Fuck me with your great big cock!"
"Do you want it in the pussy or the ass?" she asked as she crawled onto the bed, holding the thing to her loins and waving it in front of her.
"Both!" I gasped. "Double-fuck me until I can't stand it any more!"
She was more than up to the task. First she rammed it in my twat to the hilt. Then, with the vibrator humming, she pulled it out with a wet pop and barreled up my asshole.
Then back to my cunt again. Returning to my butt. Again in my pussy. My ass. Cunt. Ass. Cunt.
Ass ... cunt ... ass ... cunt ... ass ... cunt....
"Which hole do you like it best in, Mom?" she eagerly asked.
"I can't decide," I moaned. "Just keep fucking me in both of them and maybe I'll never make up my mind."
Ass and cunt, cunt and ass, it continued unabated. Sweet, hard pronging in first one hole and then the other.
I'd been coming all the time, but now I really started to go to pieces. There were separate orgasms in both orifices, and a climactic overlay that made me feel like I was being electrocuted.
"Oh, you're creaming so hard out of both holes," my daughter described the action between my legs to me. "We'll have to make the bed when we're finished."
"And then we'll just have to do it again tomorrow," I rasped, "because we're going to fuck like this every chance we get."
After several minutes of fervently sustained double-fucking, I had finally come up to my absolute capacity. Rolling away from the flailing dildo I said to my daughter, "Now it's my turn to fuck you."
Eagerly, she handed me the dildo, and then rolled over and spread her long legs. The sight of her gorgeous teenage cunt took my breath away.
Fitting the base of the dildo against my pelvic bone, I dropped between her open thighs and plunged the staff into her spasming pussy. The penetration was so complete and tight that I swore I could geel the walls of her twat pressing against the phallus as though it were connected to my body by flesh and blood.
"Oh, Momma, fuck me," she screamed, "fuck me hard!"
I did my best. The head of the dildo must have been vibrating inside her womb.
"Now do it to me in the ass!" she cried. "Ass-fuck me!"
It was a pleasure.
Then back in her cunt.
Returning to her ass.
Cunt.
Ass.
Ass and cunt, ass and cunt, just like she'd done to me. Double-fucking my teenage daughter and loving it!
"Christ, I'm coming!" she squealed. "Coming in both holes! Oh, Mom, I love you so much! So fucking much!"
We'd been through every gyration of sex conceivable and I'd stood up under it. But the minute I heard my daughter tell me that she loved me, I was overwhelmed.
This was what I'd been searching for all the time. Love!
"Oh, God, baby," I fell to her breast and uncontrollably sobbed, "don't ever get away from me again. All I want is your love. Your sweet, sweet love."
She kissed me and it was heaven. It had been a long time coming to this, but we had found each other at last.
The rest of the world could go to hell as long as we were together.
