We are in a society where change is no longer evolutionary but startling and sudden. Where women once requested equal rights, they now demand them. No longer do they sit around waiting for these rights to be offered by men, but rather they take them, grabbing them as if they were choice bits of meat. In truth, a woman who does the work of a man, as well as a man, is certainly entitled to the same pay as a man.
Such a woman is our heroine, Maryann Dennison. Feeling that men have pushed her around long enough, having worked as a secretary for an investigation company that has constantly refused to show its gratitude for her hard work, Maryann strikes out on her own, intent on competing with her former employer and proving, once and for all, she is every bit as good.
What our heroine does not realize, sitting safe and sheltered behind a secretary's desk, is that the outside world is cruel and unsympathetic. She encounters all the problems and pitfalls of an investigator, and being female, encounters sexual problems on a far greater scale. Once married and once divorced, Maryann is not nearly ready to handle these problems, especially since her former husband was a lout who made her feel she was frigid.
Thus it is that our heroine is roughly manhandled again and again until, to her utter disbelief, she discovers that she is capable of handling sexual encounters in a manner not equal to men, but in a far superior way.
-THE PUBLISHERS
CHAPTER ONE
To look at Maryann Dennison one would never believe she had a private investigator's license. To begin with, she was slender, petite, and very, very lithe. She had curling brown hair that fell to her shoulders in ringlets and waves that looked like a continually cascading waterfall that always seemed to end abruptly at her shoulder blades. Her bright, querying eyes of soft brown were continually looking in many directions at once, as if unable to concentrate on any one thing. Yet the truth of the matter was, she had an extremely retentive mind and concentrated very clearly on everything. If her large brown eyes were always moving, it was because she was always looking, observing, visually engulfing things. Her nose was short and upturned, looking as if it had been sculpted to her face it was so perfect. Her mouth was generous, though not too full, and was set in a delightfully oblong face. She had a long, slender throat, like Boticelli's Venus, and her soft shoulders were sweetly rounded, neither too large nor too small for her slender frame. Her breasts were full, yet not bloated, and under the yellow sweater she was wearing looked like two perfect grapefruit. Maryann had a narrow waist of not more than twenty-three inches, and she had slender, almost boyish hips, both of which tapered into delightful columnar thighs, which in turn led to rounded calves and slender ankles. Everything about Maryann was delightfully appealing to the eyes, including the way her green skirt clung to her, accentuating the swells of her lower torso. It was difficult for a girl, say rather a woman, to look this way and be unobtrusive.
Maryann was twenty-nine-years old, and every bit a woman ... though she was a sexually unhappy woman. At the age of eighteen, she had married a handsome, muscular plumber by the name of Joe Dennison, and though Joe was a rutting bull who was capable of proving his masculinity by firing his semen into his wife three or four times every night, not once did he make her come. He had often built her to the point where she was ready to climax, but he was always quick on the trigger, much quicker than she, and as a result he'd leave her extremely frustrated. The frustration built to the point where she actually bashed him over the head with a chair one night, thereby terminating their marital relationship. It was Joe who got the divorce on the grounds of physical cruelty, and so Maryann was stuck without alimony. She had been twenty-three at the time.
Needing work in a hurry, Maryann had scoured the want-ads, and as a result had ended up working for the Ditto Investigation Agency, where she became a secretary and learned how to lie and cover up for the various men working in the agency. As the years passed, and her salary increases were slower and slower in coming, and less and less each time, Maryann decided she was as capable as any of these men.
At the age of twenty-eight, Maryann applied to the state for a private investigator's license, and because of all the red tape, a year later her license was finally approved. She had never been arrested, had never been known to consort with unsavory elements-though she had always considered her ex-husband very unsavory-and even had a good credit-standing.
So two months after her twenty-ninth birthday, in the happy month of October, Maryann Dennison left the Ditto Investigation Agency, listening to the guffawing and laughing of men who ran it, and formed Dennison Investigations. In less than a month, Maryann realized Dennison Investigations would go down the tubes in a hurry, since she had no clientele. However Maryann was glib with words, and so one night conned a half-drunk Ralph Stanley into letting her become his partner in the somewhat more successful Stanley Investigations Agency. Using all the double-talk at her command, she hinted Stanley might be able to enjoy her as more than a business partner, and so had him sign some documents she had drawn up some days in advance, anticipating this moment.
Except for the fact that he was prone to a little too much liquor, Ralph Stanley was Maryann's idea of a perfect man. He was very tall, more than six-feet-six-inches in height, with broad shoulders, a winsomely boyish face, and a solidly mannish physique. His eyes shone like those of a little boy almost all the time, though the one time he got roaring drunk, his eyes glittered with hardness. It wasn't that Ralph Stanley was a cruel man, but when Maryann had conned him into signing the partnership agreement his partially obliterated mind had come to life when she had mentioned certain benefits he might have with her as a partner.
His straight nose wrinkled, and his firm jaw became set, and he had agreed, thinking Maryann had meant a roll in the hay whenever it pleased him. When he sobered up, the following day, he was quick to discover the "benefits" to which Maryann referred, were her contacts in the police department from having been a secretary with Ditto, as well as her knowledge of various stoolies.
When sober, Ralph Stanley was a perfect gentleman, from the top of his straight, dark-brown hair, to the bottoms of his size fourteen shoes. Not that Ralph enjoyed getting drunk, but as an investigator he had become disillusioned with the human race as a whole, and a little alcohol turned his glasses rose-colored. However, there was the one incident that stopped him from ever getting blotto again.
Within three weeks of the formation of the Stanley-Dennison Agency, Ralph Stanley realized Maryann was indeed an asset, improving his business more than a hundred percent. In even less time, the tall man became very infatuated with his partner, and because he was unable to collect some of the "fringe benefits" of their partnership, he became extremely frustrated, and one night went out on a really big bender. It was because he promised Maryann he'd never get drunk again afterward, that the lovely brown-haired woman remained his partner after what happened.
The late October day had been cold and rainy, and Ralph Stanley had walked into the two-room office that had previously been his, and that he now shared with Maryann Dennison. The outer office was where all the business was conducted. Maryann also acted as a part-time secretary when not working on a case of her own. The walls were dingy yellow, the windows letting in what little daylight there was on such a rainy day. The windows were to the right as one entered the room. There were two desks there, one on the left, which was Maryann's, and the larger one on the right which belonged to Ralph. Both were walnut-stained, though they were stained with many other things, as well. The floor was dingy, blue-and-yellow linoleum from a bygone era.
The second room was smaller than the first and had two sofas in it of real leather, from a time when leather was not that expensive. Each sofa was against a wall, and the one against the left wall pulled out into a bed. Against the far wall, two more grime-covered windows let in filtered daylight, and it slanted across the floor to keep the room from being in total darkness.
It had been a Friday when Ralph Stanley, with a skinful had staggered into the office, and seeing no one in the outer office, made his way into the inner office. Maryann was there, lying on the right sofa, the non-convertible one, resting sweater and green to she wore her yellow pullover sweater and green skirt. In actuality she had a closetfull of both.
The moment Ralph entered the room Maryann looked up, then closed her eyes and said, "You're potted again, Ralph."
"Damn right I am," Ralph replied, taking off his raincoat and revealing his light blue shirt and equally blue slacks were wet from the rain. "I just finished that Donnelly assignment, pictures and all. D'you know what it is to stand outside a motel room window that has the shade almost all the way down, using infra-red film to get pictures of our client's unfaithful wife? I stood under a waterspout most of the time, and I got drenched as well as horny. So when I finished with the pictures I hurried to the nearest bar and tried drinking myself into oblivion. Unfortunately, though I can get drunk, I can't pass out. The worst part of it, dear partner, is that I'm still horny."
"Where's the camera?" Maryann asked, trying to change the subject.
"In the outer office, in my desk drawer," he muttered, dropping his raincoat on the floor.
He staggered over to the sofa on which Maryann lay, and sitting on the edge, grabbed her face with his fingers pressing on one cheek and his thumb digging into the other. He leaned down toward her in an awkward attempt to kiss her, and as a result his fuming breath filled her nostrils, and Maryann, who had carefully avoided physical contact with Ralph until now, felt more than a little apprehensive.
"Stop...." she gasped. "Don't do this Ralph. Don't do it."
She tried sitting up only to feel him pull her to her feet with his hand still gripping her face. She gasped as she realized the kind of strength this man had. He wrapped one very long arm around her trembling body, holding her lithe form very close.
Ralph smiled and pulled her close to him, catching her lovely lips in a long, drawn-out, agonizing kiss. He kissed her so hard, it seemed to suck the breath right out of her. She opened her mouth to protest, only to taste his whiskey soaked tongue as it recklessly darted in, searching for her own unmoving lingual digit. As Ralph's kiss became stronger and more demanding, Maryann finally found the strength to move her hands between them and press on his chest. It was all in vain, though. Even if he was drunk, he was immensely powerful. His mouth was tightly clamped against hers, and she was unable to break the kiss though she tried her best to do so, struggling futilely.
My God! she asked herself. What have I gotten myself involved in? The man's potted, absolutely potted.
Maryann fought hard, but the one thing she had never really learned was self-defense. For the first time she realized she was helplessly alone. The man attacking her was her partner, and she was here because she had cleverly conned him into taking her on as an associate. As a result, she had manipulated herself into this situation. All this was because she was such a clever girl. It had never occurred to her that he would get so stinko he would concentrate on her as a female rather than as a partner in business.
It was a risk she had been aware of when conning him into signing, but she had been certain it was a situation she was fully capable of handling. Sober, Ralph Stanley would never have attempted anything like this. For all his height, strength and good looks, he was a basically shy man who had nothing but difficulty talking to women. Sure, now and again he went out, and Maryann was certain he enjoyed a good time with the women he dated, but he was the kind of man one never thought of in association with violence, much less sexual violence. Somehow Maryann had to break through the drunken beast in him and bring out the man she had come to know and admire.
The first year she had worked at the Ditto Agency, Maryann had met Ralph Stanley who, after working for Ditto himself, had finally left to form his own agency. It was he who had encouraged her to break away from Ditto some years later, and feeling responsible for her welfare at a time when half-polluted, he had agreed to sign the papers making her a full partner in his own agency.
At the moment the drunken giant of a man was holding her close, enjoying the way she writhed and wriggled and squirmed. Her delicate perfume was opening his allergy filled nostrils, and he had to admit it was quite a delicious aroma. He was even more strongly aroused by the scent of her flesh. It sent tingles up and down his backbone. Her mouth tasted of mints she had eaten following a hurried lunch. Jesus! She really tasted good.
Maryann wriggled, but Ralph Stanley only clutched her all the more tightly. Jesus! It had been a long, long time since he'd gotten into a woman, and his partner happened to be an exceptionally delectable female. This was the first one to really struggle. Sober, he would never have fought with her, but being so drunk, and remembering how she had gotten him to sign the agreement making her a partner, he sincerely believed he was "helping" her to live up to what he believed was her part of the bargain.
From the moment he had first seen Maryann, more than five years earlier, Ralph Stanley had felt an overpowering urge to know her in the biblical sense. He had talked with her quite often before leaving the Ditto Agency, and she had been instrumental in helping him get information to which he had no access. She had once confided to him what a rotten married life she'd had, and he was well aware of her sexual hang-ups. Now, drunk as he was, his befuddled mind was certain what she needed to cure her was what he sported between his thighs.
Sober, he had hoped to one day break down her resistance. He had know it would take quite awhile, but having her as a partner, he was determined to use that time to slowly gain her confidence as a woman. Oddly, he had been succeeding without realizing it, because Maryann was thinking of him as the one man she might learn to live with, though such thoughts were still fanciful daydreams. He had hoped to win her over, completely, but now, drunk, and tremendously aroused from having witnessed what had gone on in the motel room, the only thoughts in his mind at present were those of pure carnality.
Maryann gasped as his large hand with the banana-thick fingers slid down her Boticelli throat, feeling the artery on the side insanely pounding as if hoping to burst from the flesh confining it. His hand continued sliding lower, finding her breast, so delightfully round and full his heavy hand now had difficulty in covering it. Her bosom had enlarged and swelled as her breathing had become heavier. The mammary felt swollen as she shivered and trembled, wondering how to break away from this man and yet not insult him to the point where he might drunkenly decide to break up their partnership.
"I'll bet your tits are filled with honey instead of milk," he drunkenly slurred. "I'm like a bear when there's honey around."
Maryann was panting so heavily she shuddered, her chest heaving up and down. Air burst from her dilated nostrils like tiny cyclones as she felt his hand slide across the rounded shapes of her breasts. Her nipples enlarged and became turgid in his large palm. Little jets of the strangest feeling were shooting through her, and Maryann recognized them immediately. This was the same kind of feeling she'd had when her ex-husband used to make love to her, except she had always felt this strongly only as the man began pumping into her. Here was Ralph Stanley, arousing her by merely touching her. She gasped, then slowly sank to the sofa in the hope of getting away from him. Ralph sank down with her, and Maryann, remembering that men didn't like women who refused to respond in any way, simply lay there, unmoving as her heart continually trip-hammered inside her.
Kneeling beside the sofa, Ralph moved his kissing mouth to her soft, tender cheeks, and then began kissing her closed eyelids as Maryann trembled even more, terrified, wondering how to make him stop before things went farther and got completely out of hand. He pressed his lips to her ear and drunkenly murmured things she was unable to understand. One of his huge hands began caressing the nape of her neck and then slid down to her shoulder blades while his other hand continued sweeping across the fullness of her swollen breasts, stopping only to rub the valley between them every once in awhile.
Continuing to drunkenly kiss her startlingly beautiful face and slender, swan-like throat, Ralph Stanley was only too aware of the heatedly overpowering stiffness starting to enlarge his growing cock. Had he been sober, his erection would have come into being immediately, but being this drunk caused his penis to grow slowly, very, very slowly. Even so, the drunk giant thrilled to the feeling of his enlarging penis.
Maryann found her hardened breasts swelling even more under her besotted partner's caressing hand, and she was suddenly very much afraid. She wasn't used to this reaction from her body. Her former husband had never taken the time to properly arouse her before loving her. Now, the tiny, snub-nosed little breast points felt as if they were stretching with happiness like tiny puppies being gently caressed. His hand moved behind her, searching for buttons or a zipper, but it was a pullover so he was unable to find them. Finally his hands slid to her waist and tugged the sweater from inside her skirt. When she tried sitting up to protest, Ralph yanked the sweater up and over her head, pulling the sleeves inside out as he tugged it off and threw it to the side. Two fabulously beautiful white mounds pushed at her heavily restraining brassiere. He was able to see the outward pressure of her two nipples and he decided he had to fill his mouth with the fruit of her bosom. He used both hands to reach behind her half-lying form and undo the snaps of her brassiere, pulling away the cups of material that surrounded her delightfully enlarged breasts.
"Good Lord!" she screamed, sitting up and crossing her arms in front of her. "You're crazy! Stop this immediately!"
He stared at her as she sat there on the sofa, his red-rimmed eyes wide open and staring, and then he reached out, grabbed her arms, and slowly pulled them apart, staring at the delightful mounds of her breasts. He forced her arms to her sides, then wrapped one of his own around her to keep her from noving as he pressed his weight against her futilely struggling form. Slowly his head began dipping lower and lower, his right hand filling itself with the fullness of her left breast, feeling the tan nipple of the other. He was determined to suck the money from the fullness of that breast. Maryann's belly and loins throbbed with terror as she panted, completely unused to the overpowering fire now beginning to truly permeate her trembling torso.
"Ralph, don't do this," she screamed, her voice effectively contained within the room by the old building's thick walls. "This isn't right. It was wrong when my husband did it. How much more wrong is it with you, a man I'm not married to."
"Your husband didn' love you," Ralph drunkenly muttered, his mumbling mouth filled with her teat. Then he lifted his lips from her tan nipple for a moment, and said, "I'm the on'y guy inna whole worl' who really loves you, Maryann. This isn't something jus' physical, an' you know it. I been nuts about you for the longes' time, and when you came t'me with the partnership idea tellin' me about all the extra benefits of havin' you as a partner, I figured you kinda liked me the way I like you."
"Oh Ralph, no ... no ... no ... I never meant anything like this. You have to stop this. We work so well together. Haven't I increased your income? Haven't I proved value as a partner?"
"Shit!" Ralph Stanley muttered. "I don'jus' want you as a business partner. I wantcha t'be a full-time partner in ev'ry way. Heck, the only reason I'm not tryin' to marry you is, I don' wantcha t'be saddled with a drunken bum like me f the rest of yer life. But God knows, Maryann, what I feel f you is more than jus' the hots. Christ! I love you, girl. I've loved you for the longest time, now. I kept my hands off hopin' you'd see how much I love you, and that one day y'd come to me, and we'd make slow, gentle, soft love. Butcha ain't never comin' so I gotta come t'you an' make you unnerstand how I feel aboutcha."
"Oh Lord, n-o-o-o-o-o-o-o...." Maryann gasped as his hungry mouth returned to the bud of her right nipple, sucking on the tasty nubbin as if it had been made of hard candy. Maryann struggled, hitting the top of his head with the palms of her hands, then pounding on the sides of his head with her clenched fists, but it was all to no avail as Ralph continued his unending suckling. Her body leaped and her heels kicked the sofa, but his mouth still continued sucking. Ralph brushed her flailing fists aside, his hungry mouth sucking very strongly, tasting what he imagined was the syrupy sweetness being tugged from her heaving belly into her breasts and out through her nipples. Maryann's fist continued pounding on his back in a vain attempt to make him stop, but her nipples swelled to even greater size as his left hand slid behind her shoulders and pressed against her shoulder blades while his right hand continued toying with her left nipple, trying to make it match the size if her right mammarial tip. Unable to fight him with her fists any longer, she clutched his head tightly to her trembling breast, wondering why such fireworks were exploding inside her. She had never once felt this way with Joe, her ex. She was certain she had loved him at the time of their marriage, so why hadn't she enjoyed such inner feelings with the man.
The tasty, honeyed flavor of her softly sensuous body filled Ralph Stanley's mouth as he now used both hands to push both delightful globes a little higher, feeling them all but explode with ecstasy under the pressure of his tenderly caressing fingers.
Sucking strongly, Ralph imagined himself tasting pure liquid cane sugar as his mouth worked over her breast again and again. Now he moved his mouth to the other tan tip of hard flesh and he bit down, not hard, but just enough to send another streak of passion bursting through her. The little bud shuddered vibrantly under the pressure of his teeth.
"Heaven help me!" Maryann gasped, realizing she was starting to succumb. Her hands surrounded his head and her arms pulled his face all the more tightly against her bosom until each inhalation pressed her soft flesh into his dilating nostrils, making the rich scent of her flood his senses.
Ralph sucked her tasty extensions of blood-filled flesh all the more powerfully, pulling what tasted like some fabulous nectar from her breasts. Molten fire poured into the depths of his aching stomach, then swirled into his loins, becoming a roaring blast furnace that swelled his throbbing cock, causing it to stiffen even more.
Maryann was completely aflame for the first time in her life, and she was terrified because it was all being brought about by a drunken man who would probably not even remember what he was doing, the following day. She gave herself far too little credit, since drunk or sober, the touching of her body was the one thing Ralph Stanley would always remember. This thought sobered her a little, and she gasped, certain her flesh was filled with fire from top to bottom. She had to break away now, or she knew exactly what was going to happen to her.
"No!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "Ralph ... no ... this is wrong and you know it. We have to stop, now, while we still have the strength to resist."
"You mean while you still have the strength to resist," he insisted. "I lost the will to resist the moment I walked into this room and saw you stretched out on the sofa. I'm going to fuck you, Maryann. I must fuck you. It's going to be the most glorious fuck the two of us will ever know."
"No!" she screamed again. "No! No! No!"
He tugged her to her feet, and before she realized what he was doing, he had yanked her skirt, half slip, and panties below her hips. Hoisting her, he threw her over his shoulder and took the shoes from her flailing feet, then peeled down her elastic-top stockings, and proceeded to tug her clothing from around her hips, throwing everything on the floor. Now she was nakedly squirming on his shoulder, and he felt the wetness in her pubic bush as it rubbed against his shoulder. She was aroused even if she refused to admit it, and this made Ralph Stanley a very happy, drunken man.
Dumping her naked body on the sofa, he stood above her, and Maryann, lying with her thighs tightly clamped together, saw the glaze in his eyes as he stared wildly at her while deliberately taking his time removing his clothing. He behaved as if he were acting out some part for her.
Finally he stood as naked as she, his body flat, hard, and hairy where she was curved, soft, and bare save for the hair between her thighs.
The sight of his penis terrified her. Like everything else about this giant, it was huge. It made that of her former husband look miniscule by comparison, and she was terrified, wondering how the man fitted something so monstrously long and thick into any woman, much less a delicate female like herself. It was a healthy pink from base to the underside of his corona. The entire top was a brilliant purple.
Bending, he picked her up, peeling her body from the leather sofa, and he walked across the room where, with his free hand, he opened the sofa bed. He lowered her to the mattress, and Maryann, terrified beyond thought at what he intended doing with his massive skewer, was unable to do anything other than stare up at him. He bent down and kissed her naked flesh, his lips tracing all the lines on her white body made by the straps of her brassiere and the elastic of her panties. Then he lay beside her, letting her feel the heat of his body, and she was more terrified than ever.
"My God!" he gasped, his alcoholic breath overpowering her. "You're such a beautiful woman." He stabbed the tip of his tongue into her ear. It was the first time anyone had ever done that to Maryann, and she gasped.
"Don't do that," she pleaded. "Ohhhhhhh ... don't ... don't ... it isn't right...."
His teeth trapped her earlobe and bit, and the tiny pain became another wave of sensual pleasure, shooting through her body like wispy smoke. His tongue returned to her ear, thrusting into it like a small penis into a narrow vaginal opening.
"Owwwwwwaaaaa uuuuuugggghhhhhhhhhh!" Maryann gasped, squirming as she tried pulling away. She turned her face to his to tell him not to do that, but when she opened her mouth she found it filled with his tongue. The heated hollow of her oral interior gasped as she moaned, "Aaaaaahh-hhhhmmmmmmmm...." and without wanting to, she found herself chewing on the lingual obtruder.
Her heatedly burning mouth was the sweetest thing Ralph Stanley had ever tasted, and he thought of it as a foretaste of the burning core between her thighs. He was almost at the bursting point, yet he had hardly begun with this beautiful woman. Drunk as he was, he realized what he felt for her rose above physical infatuation. He wondered if he'd be able to control himself long enough to enter her. He knew she was afraid. Every little move she ever made had let him and all other men who saw her fully dressed know she was afraid of sex. Hell! If he fucked her long enough and hard enough, sooner or later her mind would open.
"Maryann," he gasped, his fiery nostrils shuddering against her slender, white throat. His hand was resting against her pelvis, and though she struggled to keep him from sliding his fingers between them, he was forcing her thighs wider and wider, as he finally pushed one finger very gently into the softly clasping depths of her heatedly shuddering vagina. Maryann all but shrieked, though she wasn't sure whether it was from fear or from the unwanted thrills she was feeling. She felt herself terrified as he moved his body over hers, causing her to lie flat on her back. His knees were pushing her thighs apart as his finger slid from her wet slit, and Maryann sensed the heavily burgeoning penis, long and thick against the trembling softness of her flat belly.
Maryann was crying, not knowing whether she was mortally terrified or strongly anxious for his throbbing penis to fill her delicate interior. This was all so wrong, especially with him drunk. Yet she was unable to fight his overpowering strength.
"Please...." she begged, weeping loudly. "Ralph, don't do this terrible thing."
"Honey," he said drunkenly, a heavy sheen of sweat on his forehead, "you've never had a really good fuck in your entire life. Well, that's what you're gonna get, this time." Lord! But he sounded so much like Joe, her ex-husband.
Maryann found herself shrinking with disgust and terror, a raging panic tearing at her intestines.
"Oh my God!" she gasped. "Let me go! Ralph, I won't let you do this!"
"I'm going to teach you the difference between animal fucking and pure adoration," he told her. "Yes, I'm going to fuck you, but goddammit, I'm doing it this way 'cause I love you."
He pinned her wriggling body to the mattress, still pressing himself against her, using his knees to keep her thighs wide apart against her will. At last he was going to fuck the one female to haunt his dreams, both day and night.
Perspiration glistened on Maryann's forehead as she openly cried, tears running down her cheeks. The flashes Ralph Stanley saw in her eyes and thought were pure animal lust was fear as she felt the massive dome of his throbbing cock press against the division of her aching vaginal lips.
The drunken Ralph Stanley was panting with excitement. This was one woman he had to fuck. He would teach her to love him. The hot, boiling wax in his balls was churning inside him, waiting to be fired from the cannon of his cock. He had to fill her cunt with the weight of his prick, and he had to do it, now.
Maryann turned her head, trying to bite one of the arms pinning her shoulders to the bed. He allowed her teeth to sink into his wrist as his fingers gripped her shoulders, feeling the way the knob of his hard cock was now pressing in exactly the right spot. He lunged forward, pushing his pulsatingly solid cock into the woman's opening, driving his throbbingly stiff prick into her-cramming, ramming, slamming. It sank a quarter of the way into the narrowness of her sucking cunt on this first drive, and before Maryann was able to react to the pain she was starting to feel at being so widely stretched, he flexed his hips and slammed forward again, pushing more of the massive penis into her. More than three quarters of his throbbing cock was now buried in the heatedly wet vault of her screaming pussy. The throbbing walls of her mucous membranes surrounded and tugged on his shuddering penis. Her cunt was clutching it as strongly as any steel vise, yet the very softness of her inner tunnel made his cock throb with continued delight.
She was screaming loud and violently as she con tinued to helplessly writhe and squirm in an effort to dislodge him. No matter what she did, Ralph Stanley was inside her, almost all the way in, and she was solidly attached to him whether she liked it or not. His lips pressed against hers and his tongue thrust its lengthy self as far into her mouth as was humanly possible, blocking further sound. The agonized woman lay there, completely helpless, pinned under the man's weight with her mouth clogged and all she was capable of doing was moaning. Yes, the full length of his throbbing, pulsating prick was now pushing deeper until it was completely buried in the wetly heated tunnel of her feminine tightness, just as his tongue swirled through her mouth, depressing her own lingual organ. Both her arms were tightly encircled by one of his. She was incapable of movement with her thighs w-edged far apart. Maryann was her partner's helpless prisoner for as long as it pleased him to enjoy his drunken self. At the moment it seemed like this nightmare would go on forever. God! She was soddenly wet in the tunnel between her thighs-a veritable swamp of slick juices. His throbbing length had bypassed the entrance to her womb and was buried in the very deepest part of her teeming vagina. The trembling head of his flexing penis pulsated inside her quivering pussy again and again. Her ex-husband had never penetrated this far.
Ralph remained unmoving, at the moment totally satisfied in his drunken mind to simply hold her as his prisoner, knowing the woman was his to enjoy in any way he wished-feeling how totally filled she was with the full thickness of him. His lengthy solid penis was stuffed into the tightly hot depths of her squriming vaginal corridor, thrilling to the way it clung, and his broad tongue swished through the narrow interior of her mouth. Her shapely, slender torso was totally trapped beneath his six-foot-six-inch length. She was a loving, wanting, needing woman as far as his drunken mind was concerned, even if she was, as yet, unaware of it. He was going to forever dispel the nightmares she'd had with her former husband by teaching her the true glories of fucking.
Maryann fought for an interminably long time, but soon began to understand the complete hopelessness of her situation. She took the blame on herself, for she had known Ralph Stanley occasionally drank too much, and she had walked into this with her eyes wide open. Struggling only made things a lot worse. The pain of his heavy penis in her vagina became more intense when she moved, and she felt that other feeling-that one of heated thrills-also intensify. Well there was nothing for her to do at the moment. The way she was pinned she would never be able to break away. The man was going to fuck her. All that was left was for her to react in exactly the way she used to behave when her husband rutted with her. He might be drunk, but he was still capable of understanding exactly how she was feeling. She'd make him understand all this meant nothing to her. He might have her under his control, physically, but her internal feelings were still her own. The man would never be able to control them, and at the moment her internal feelings were those of disgust.
Drunk though he was, Ralph Stanley had a fairly good inkling of what was running through Maryann's mind. Though he had never personally encountered a woman with this kind of problem before, he had read about "frigid' women, and he was well aware that most of them were not really frigid, but merely weren't stimulated enough to reach their satisfaction. Well, he'd hold his own orgasm back for as long as possible, so that even though she was trying to play dead at the moment, he'd have her changing her mind in almost no time. He knew what magic the long, thick wand between his thighs possessed.
One of his hands gripped the top of her head as he eased his lips from hers, saying, "Okay, Maryann, sweet partner." His voice was calm, not betraying his drunkenness any longer though Maryann knew full well he was completely snockered. The calm in his voice no way betrayed the excitement he felt as he throbbed his heavy penile length inside her, feeling the way her wet tissues surrounded his entire length. "We're first starting to really know one another," he told her. You've been lying to y'self for a long, long time, now. Because of whatcha been through before, y'think fuck is a dirty word and even dirtier deed. Fucking is a way to express love, and dammit, I love you. Honey, this's the only way I know t'letcha know how much I love you. What's more, no matter how much y'deny it, I know y'got strong feelings f'me. Right now, even if y'don't know it, I can feel the hot, wet walls of y'cunt throbbing like crazy. You wanna be fucked, but y'won't admit it. You shut your mind to all feelings, not allowing yourself t'feel all these terrific sensations. Well, even if y'think y'don't wanna feel anything, y'got a body that's different. It's reacting against your will."
He continued talking to her, slurring drunkenly now and again, sliding one hand down to cup her buttocks, and as he kept on talking, he massaged, feeling her gluteal cheeks slowly but surely starting to loosen up. Ralph kissed the tears from her cheeks, enjoying the salty taste of them.
"Oh Ralph...." she wept aloud. "We had such a nice thing going. I really began to like you. Why ... why did you have to do this horrible, terrible thing to me? What kind of a friend are you?"
"I'm the bes' friend you'll ever have," he told her. "I'm not really hurting you. Heck! Inside you can stretch a lot wider. All women can. Besides, you're so wet inside, it'd be impossible f me to hurtcha in any way. I mean, it's only cause you are so wet that my cock, which happens to be a real thick one, slid into you so easily. Maryann, y'know I'm telling you the truth. Hell! Your ex-husband might've fucked you a lot, but he sure didn' feel love f you the way I do. Right now, thass whatcher gonna get ... not jus' fuckin', but lovin'. When I pump into yous' gonna be nice n'easy, so y'can feel every little tingle and learn t'enjoy it. Jesus! If you can feel the love I have fyou, you'll soon see, fucking is something really wunnerful. It's the best thing the two of us can do. You been hidin' your own feelings f'too long, now. Jesus! You're so beautiful. You gotta stop hiding away from the rest of the world. I think I'm the guy to really make y'learn what love is all about."
Maryann continued to silently cry. Slow, heavy tears came seeping from beneath tightly closed eyelids.
"I'm gonna make a complete woman of you," Ralph Stanley whispered. "You've been half a woman f'so long now, y'deserve to be made a whole woman."
For all his drunkenness, Ralph Stanley, though overpowering was not cruel. Though his drunkenness had brought out his true feelings for Maryann causing him to overpower and fuck her, at no time was he mean-drunk. Now slowly, carefully, very gently, he began sliding the huge pillar of his cock as it strongly vibrated, in and out of her. He tugged it back until the corona of his purple point emerged from between her lips, though the rest of the huge head remained inside her. Maryann gasped feeling a heated rush of strongly overpowering thrills--thrills she had never known with her husband. Little by little the pain was starting to disappear. She realized that much of the agony was in her mind because it was what she wanted to feel.
Slowly the tall man squished his thick penis into her again while kissing her lips and face, caressing her body and soothing away all the horror she felt. Her arms moved, pushing the wrap-around band of his own arm away, and though she did her best to fight against it, Maryann suddenly found herself clinging to the tall giant, pulling him against her, realizing she was enjoying the very weight that was squeezing the breath out of her. This time when his weighty cock slid from within her tightly clutching feminine core, she surprised herself by reaching down and flatly placing a. hand against his buttocks, trying to force him to ram the organ home again.
My God! she thought. What am I doing? I must be insane.
She removed her hand from his buttocks but the man eagerly thrust into the depths of her pulsating pussy, feeling her membranes cling even more tightly to his moving length of solid muscle and flesh.
"C'mon, Maryann," he muttered. "Tell the truth. It feels good, doesn' it. C'mon, y'know y'like it," he insisted as he stroked the round contours of her soft buttocks, tugging her body up to him as he sank into her, repeatedly.
"You don't really know me," she gasped, not realizing her own body was responding to his pumping action. "How can you say you love me. You're toying with me, Ralph. That isn't nice."
"I know it's gonna take a li'l time," he told her. "Butcha gotta find it out f'yourself."
Maryann shuddered, knowing, drunk as he was, he was right. Her body and soul were crying out for love. All the years her husband had literally raped her, night after night, he had never loved her. Since she had freed herself from him, or to be more accurate, since he had shed her, Maryann had constantly fought against any kind of physical contact with a man. Her body, which had constantly been aroused, but never satisfied, needed the satisfaction more than ever, even if her mind felt it was wrong. At this moment, no matter how her mind still objected, her body was glowing in the glories of physical contact. The heavy, pulsating of the drunken's men's immense ramrod pushed deeply into the tender center of her body, and though her mind still refused to admit it, her body thrilled to what it was feeling. God in heaven, she wasn't a religious woman, but she did have a sense of right and wrong, and no matter how good it felt, it was still wrong. For the first time in her life a solid cock buried in her sucking pussy was feeling better than ever. She felt a kind of physical satisfaction even now and wondered if it was possible that she might have climaxed without realizing it. Her body was bouncing, continually reacting to the action of his penis being hammered into her again and again. Much as he stretched her, and angry as she was for his having forced himself on her, she felt as if this one particular cock really belonged inside her. Cock! She had always been too much of a lady to even think the word, and now it seemed like the most apt word in the world since it seemed to perfectly describe the organ. She felt happy, and she was wise enough to allow her body to enjoy what was taking place even though her conscience continued plaguing her. It was as if she was first discovering the true meaning of sexual intercourse.
"You like it," the drunk giant whispered as he continued pounding into her.
"I won't say...." she gasped. "This is wrong, really wrong. You know you ought to stop this."
"I couldn't stop if I tried," he drunkenly gasped. "Hell the way I feel now, I'll never stop. Can'tch see, Maryann, the two of us were meant to be locked together like this. Now I'm gonna fuck and fuck and fuck until you come ... and then I'm gonna fuck you some more."
'"Oh no!" she wept, outwardly ashamed, inwardly thrilled.
It was more than the enjoyment of sexual contact. He was totally dominating her, and that was wrong, very wrong. But even as she thought all these things, she raised her hips and rotated her loins, her pelvis rising to meet his downward plunges as the two of them pounded out a rhythmic beat that carried their insides higher and higher on the climb to satisfaction.
"Oooooooooh!" he gasped. "Y'feel it, don'tcha, Maryann? Y'feel the fact that I love you?"
"Hhhhhuuuuhhhhhh! All I ... ohhhhhhh ... can feel ... uhhhhhh ... is that great big ... hhnnnngggghhhh ... organ of yours ... aaaaaahhhh ... trying to reach into my ... oooooooohhhhhhhh ... throat...."
"Damn it!" he panted. "I love you ... I love you ... you're the only woman I've ever really loved ... hhhhaaaannnnhhhh ... and you keep tellin' me ... ooooooooh ... not to do this. I'm ... uhhhhhhh ... gonna keep on fucking you until I've pumped my juices into you. That way, we'll really be part of each oeher...." he gasped.
"Wonderfulllllll...." she suddenly shouted, not knowing why the word had slipped out, but it had. She was groaning aloud, her lovely head thrown back, her long neck arched in wild anticipation of the feelings her body had longed for without her mind accepting it.
Maryann was totally confused, feeling the response of her body so strongly, her mind no longer knew what to think. She didn't wonder or think about what was happening, but for the moment merely reacted, thrusting her hips up again and again. There was a huge jackhammer alive in her body, and it was moving in and out of the tightness of her shuddering cunt, and she was certain she would die of delight. At this point she was willing to welcome such a death it was the only way to feel what lay at the end of the rainbow she was climbing.
"Uuuuuuuuuunnnnnhhhhhhh ... hhhhhhaaaaaannnnnnhhhhhh ... ggggggaaaaaannnnnngggghhhhhh ... yyyyyyaaaannnnnnhhhhhh...." Ralph Stanley grunted and gasped, continually grinding his hard cock into the clasping closeness of her tight pussy.
Maryann's hips churned and twirled, rotating with wildly licentious gyrations as tall Ralph Stanley continued shoving his massive cock deeper and deeper into her clasping, clenching, tightly spasming depths. Lord! He felt his eyeballs rolling around in his drunken head. He was aflame with the heat of thickly boiling white semen building in his body.
"You're going to come," he whispered to her. "I c'n tell, you're going to come. I wantcha t'get there the same time I do. S'the greatest feeling inna world when two people come together. C'mon Maryann, Don' fight me. Come!"
"I've ... uhhhh ... never come before...." she gasped, and then, "OHHHHH ... HHHHAAAANNNNHHHH ... EEEEYYYYAAAAGGGGHHHHHH...."
Ralph Stanley came with her bellowing, "AAAAYYYYAAAAGGGGHHHH!" Rockets exploded in both of their brains and they clung tightly to one another.
All too soon it was over, and the huge man lay limply on top of his female partner. Finally he rolled over, letting his weight fall on the mattress, allowing Maryann to breathe. When he did get up, staggering to the small water closet off to the left of the bed, he looked back, staring at the way she lay with her arms and legs spread-eagled for the moment.
Maryann finally returned to the conscious world when Ralph came out of the tiny bathroom. Suddenly very much conscious of her nakedness, she gathered her clothing and ran into the bathroom where, with paper towels, she washed herself as best she could, cleaning out the sperm that was continually running down her thighs.
When she emerged from the tiny bathroom, fully dressed, her hair combed into place, she found the sofa bed closed. Ralph Stanley was sitting on it, half-smiling, yet only now aware of the enormity of the horror he had caused her.
For the next two hours he pleaded with her not to break up their partnership, and Maryann told him if he had so much as one drink, she was leaving. It was the damn whiskey that had made him do what he had done. Having sobered up, he finally agreed never to touch the stuff again, and taking the pint bottle from his desk in the front room, he poured the contents down the drain in the bathroom.
"And you're never to do a terrible thing like this again," she admonished.
"Not until you say please," he replied.
CHAPTER TWO
The woman was obviously distraught as she sat in the straight wooden chair in front of Ralph Stanley's desk. She was a mousy little blonde, Helen Scott by name, and the blond obviously came from a bottle. Her husband, Andy Scott, the owner of a service station, was coming home much later in the evening than he used to. When she had once phoned the service station early, Helen was told her husband had left. This was for two weeks running.
Ralph Stanley, sitting in his swivel chair, wearing brown slacks and a white shirt open at the collar, adjusted his glasses as he looked at the mousy blonde with the short, upturned nose and the tiny mouth. The blue print dress she wore let him know the woman, though a little undersized in the bosom, was well shaped, and there was no reason for her to have to worry about a man like her husband. Her trouble, like that of almost all the women nearby, was her middle-class upbringing. She suspected her husband of cheating, so instead of playing the game herself and enjoying another man, she wanted to clamp down on her husband. What was she going to do if she learned her husband actually was cheating? She was in her forties now, and though she was a working woman, the money she earned was enough for her to indulge in the frivolity of hiring a two-hundred-dollar-a-day investigator, because it was her husband's money that supported the house, paid the bills, and let her fill her bank account with her own earnings. She was too practical to get a divorce, so Ralph wondered why she was throwing away good money. What the hell! This was the way he made his living, and far be it from him to discourage such clientele.
The photo Helen Scott had handed to Ralph was of a short, chunky man with curly black hair and a slightly beefy face, though he wasn't really fat. He wore glasses, had a small, round nose, and his grin revealed the fact that he liked smoking since his teeth were nicotine-stained.
The woman gave Ralph the address of her husband's service station, handed him a six-hundred dollar retainer, and left. Maryann, who had been in the other room, listening, now emerged. For some reason, female clients had little faith in female investigators.
"You're taking this one," Ralph said to Maryann. "I could follow the sucker for only a little while before he spotted me because of my height. With that blonde wig you sport in your purse, and your reversible coat, you'll have no trouble keeping an eye on our boy. In the meantime, I want to check out a few pertinent facts on my own."
"Facts or figures?" Maryann asked, taking her coat from the closet.
"Pardon?" Ralph asked.
"That Helen Scott had a nice figure from what I was able to see through the keyhole. Are you sure it isn't her figure you want to check out?"
"Not my type," Ralph replied.
"Anything with a hole between its legs is your type," Maryann snapped.
"That's not true, and you know it," he admonished. "I'm particular about my women."
"At least when you're sober."
"Even when I was drunk," he told her, irritated that she continued rubbing in his rape of her, like salt into an open wound. "I've apologized more times than I can remember for hurting your precious feelings," he snapped. "But I won't apologize for the physical side of it. Even if you won't admit it, you liked it. Hell! You came, which was something you'd never done before in your entire married life."
"I don't want to discuss it," Maryann insisted.
"Fine! Then get your pretty little ass down to the service station. Helen Scott said her husband used to come home at six, smelling from beer. That meant he would stop off at a neighborhood bar on the way home. Figure he spent a half hour there, so he would leave his place somewhere between five and five-thirty because it only took a few minutes for him to drive home. You be in your car, across the street from the service station at four."
"That gives me exactly twenty minutes to get there," she said, checking her watch. "I'll meet you back here tomorrow morning. No use your waiting for me, and I don't see any clients walking in at this hour."
Ralph shrugged as she checked her purse and made certain she had her tape recorder and camera. Tucking it under her arm, Maryann left the office.
The drive to Andy Scott's gas station took fifteen minutes. Maryann parked her car down the block and around the corner, where she had a perfect view of the gas station. She didn't want to get too close because she drove a yellow Celica which made a taxicab look drab by comparison. There were no hedges in her way, and she was able to pick out Andy Scott almost immediately. His wife had also described the Ford LTD he drove, and so Maryann was able to spot it among the other cars at the station.
At precisely four-thirty, Scott removed his overalls and went to the men's room. He emerged some minutes later looking somewhat dapper in a grey suit. To look at him, one would never guess he worked at a service station. Though she wasn't close enough to see, Maryann was willing to bet there wasn't a speck of dirt under the man's fingernails.
Maryann watched as Scott entered his car and drove off. She followed at a careful distance. Driving the buttercup-colored Toyota had taught her to be very careful when following since it was such an obvious car. Ralph Stanley had tried convincing her to buy a maroon or dark-blue sedan at least four-years-old, but Maryann loved her Celica and refused to part with it.
She followed him three blocks west, and then, on Eastside Avenue, he turned south. He drove for slightly more than a half mile passing a yacht club, and then parked at the corner of a recent housing development. Most of the homes had already been sold, and it was obvious someone was already living in the house on the northwest corner.
Driving past the home, Maryann drove for a block, turned her car around, came back a half block, then parked. Getting out of the car, she walked, crossing the street and quietly approaching the house. Looking around, she saw no one else outside.
The house at which she was looking was older than most of the other houses around, which meant it had been built before the development had started. It was a white, two-story frame house with a brick extension in the rear, as if someone had recently added an extra room.
The name on the front lawn on a large wooden sign, said, THE FARQUARS.
So far, Maryann knew that Andy Scott came to visit someone named Farquar. The big question was, who?
The front door was closed, so Maryann walked around to the right side of the house where there was an alleyway between it and the new home, next door. The other home was so new it was still unoccupied.
Standing in the alleyway, she heard voices, and looking around, finally determined the voices were coming from an open window above her. It didn't take a genius to figure out it was a bedroom window. The voices were too low for her to hear what was being said.
Being a very determined woman, Maryann hurried to the new house which, she noticed, had an open door. It wasn't the show house, but someone who had looked at it had obviously left the door open. She entered the house and made certain to close and lock the door behind her. Then she hurried up the stairs and turned left. It took her almost no time to discover that the only window facing the open bedroom window was the upstairs bathroom window. Luck was with her in that the new house had a large overhang above the window, keeping it in shadow, but someone had very obligingly left the bedroom light on. Standing in the bathtub, Maryann was able to peer through the window without being seen, and what she observed was definitely worth taking pictures of.
The woman was tall, almost stately, with her hair in an upsweep. It was brown hair and had obviously never been dyed or tinted. She was wearing a blue bathrobe and nothing more, with the name Trish written on it. The neckline of the robe was wide open, revealing two large, firm breasts. The woman had clear eyes, though from the little red marks on her straight nose it was obvious she wore glasses. The camera's telescopic viewfinder let Maryann see everything. The little unidirectional mike she had taped to the top of the camera was aimed in the same direction, and was being recorded by a mini-cassette recorder, also in Maryann's purse. A little wire with a mini earphone let Maryann hear everything.
"I still don't know why you keep coming to see me, Andy," Trish was saying. "If Drew ever found out, he'd kill you." Drew was obviously Trish's husband. "I know I'm not exactly ugly, but there are younger, prettier girls you probably would be able to play around with."
As far as Maryann was concerned, Trish was an extremely attractive woman. There was no reason for her to continually put herself down, which was what she was apparently doing in an attempt to convince Andy to stop seeing her.
"Let's stop the nonsense," the short man insisted. "You like me, Trish. If you didn't like me, you wouldn't be letting me in the house almost every day. What's more, I like you. Otherwise I wouldn't be here."
"Yes," Trish nodded. "I like you. You do things for me my own husband won't do."
"In a little while I'm going to be free," Andy Scott said. "When that happens, I'll want you to marry me.
"Stop talking like a fool," Trish insisted. "Drew would never let me go."
"He'll let go, all right. Didn't you say he had a quarter of a million dollar insurance policy with a double indemnity clause?"
"We have policies for the same amount on one another," Trish nodded. "Why?"
"Suppose your husband were to meet with an accident. You'd be a half-million dollars richer."
"Andy," she gasped. "Don't say things like that."
"One way or another, we'll get him out of the way and then we can get married."
"You forget, you're still married," she told him.
"I told you, I won't be much longer."
"Andy, you have a devious mind. I'd hate to know what you're thinking."
"Right now you'd love to know what I'm thinking," he told her.
As Maryann continued watching, listening, and snapping pictures, Trish was suddenly forced by Andy Scott to sit on top of her dressing table. He tugged her robe wide open, revealing her long, stately thighs, and these he pulled apart as he kneeled, revealing the dark-brown bush of lush growth covering her cunt. Under the thick forest of her pubic curls, Maryann, from where she was standing, was able to discern the pink color of Trish's vaginal lips and the dark crease between them leading to her vagina. Maryann also saw glistening drops of dewy moisture seeping out and running along the cleft of Trish's sex. It was obvious the woman, for all her bravado in attempting to outwardly discourage Andy Scott, was aroused by the sight of him. It was also obvious from her lack of resistance that she intended willingly going along with whatever Scott wanted to do.
"Andy," Trish gasped in a deep, throaty voice the mike was only barely able to pick up. It was the husky voice of lust, and Maryann recognized it as such.
Scott, who had been kneeling with his back to Maryann, was intently staring into the creaming depths of her shuddering cunt. His eyes were locked on Trish's heated pussy, and his thumbs reached in and spread out her lips.
Maryann wanted to sigh and yawn with boredom, but no matter how many tawdry sexual affairs she witnessed, and in this job she had witnessed quite a few, she always found herself interested. Right now she was more than interested, she was suddenly aroused, and she immediately knew it was because she was having sympathetic feelings, remembering what Ralph Stanley had done to her. Her eyes were glued to what was happening, though she didn't forget to take pictures with her Canon. It was always interesting to watch how other people made love, and she was starting to fancy herself in similar situations. Immediately she chastised herself for daring to think of such a thing.
"Kiss it, Andy," Maryann heard Trish gasp, letting the fingers of her left hand glide to her vagina and tantalizingly stroke the plump mound of her sex.
Maryann stared, unable to believe she had heard correctly. The woman actually wanted Andy Scott to put his mouth on her vaginal lips. Why that was horrible.
"D'you really want me to?" Andy Scott asked, smirking a little, knowing he had the woman under his control.
"Please, Andy," she begged. "Kiss it!" she pleaded, her fingers spreading the thick outer labia of her vagina so the bespectacled man was able to see the pink wetness beyond.
Andy Scott removed his glasses and tucked them into the breast pocket of his jacket. Then he took his time removing his jacket, tossing it on the dressing table stool.
Completely hidden in the house across the street, Maryann watched as Andy Scott pretended to nervously glance around. Then he moved his head slowly toward the sexual banquet spread out before him on the dressing table.
The idea had unnerved Maryann, but she managed to keep the camera steady as she took more pictures. The film in her camera was extremely sensitive. Ralph Stanley often did his own photographic work, and more than once he complimented Maryann on knowing the proper lens openings and the right speed at which to shoot.
Maryann watched Andy Scott move slowly closer, and she felt her own heart beating that much faster. She also saw the look in Trish's eyes change from simple need to overwhelming desire. The woman was typical of the everyday middle-class suburban housewife who, bored with a husband who obviously was not around enough, was turning elsewhere for her thrills.
Maryann made a mental note to have Ralph Stanley warn Helen Scott. Andy Scott sounded like a desperate and dangerous man. Not that Trish Farquar was better looking than Helen Scott. For a man like Andy Scott it was simply a change. How much longer would it be until he tired of Trish?
Andy Scott might have been short, but he was a powerful man. From the way Trish had talked about her own husband, Drew, earlier, he must have been at least equally powerful. It would have been interesting to see two strong men go at it hammer and tongs. Maryann immediately squelched such a thought. Ralph Stanley's rape of her body had changed a lot of things for her. She had to regain total control of herself.
She watched Andy Scott's head move closer to its objective. The man stopped once to inhale deeply, enjoying the essences muskily rising from inside Trish Farquar's cunt. With a knowing smile the man's hands reached out and gently ran over the creamy texture of her thighs. Trish shivered with anticipatory excitement, sliding her fingers away from her juice-wet pussy, touching his arms. For a few moments neither spoke as Andy continued massaging the thighs of the woman before him. Trish leaned back, spreading her legs that much more, giving him greater access to her inner loins.
Andy's strong, tanned, mechanic's arms were working methodically, his hands maintaining total control of the situation between himself and the handsome woman. Like the expert he was, he teased and taunted the woman whose thighs were stretched before him, and Maryann, watching through her single-lens-reflex, having a telescopic view of everything going on, felt her body shiver with unwanted lust as liquid fire began pooling in her own vagina. Andy Scott's fingers traced over the soft, milky white thighs of tender, delectable flesh and smooth skin, moving slowly toward the anxious delta of Tish's heated vaginal opening. His fingers continued crawling, like large spiderlegs, until they were mere inches from the lush growth covering her heated vaginal maw. Then his fingers bypassed her sex and proceeded to run up and down the softness of her flat stomach.
Trish began quivering and sighing, shuddering under the gentle and lingering torture of his caresses. Her body writhed and twisted as her desire continued mounting and growing. Again and again the expert mechanic repeated his titillating foreplay, running his thick fingers very, very close to the dark-brown matte covering her pussy, but never once touching it. After a short while, he allowed his palm to brush against her vaginal beard, as if to let her know her needs were understood. The effect was easily discernible, written all over Trish Farquar's face. Her bosom heaved with continually mounting desire, causing her breasts to roll and bounce around. Her buttocks, heretofore still on the dressing table, began gyrating in slow, languid circles as if to entice his working fingers into the sodden well of her shuddering cunt. She moaned low and long, her lips now wet and glistening from a consistently flicking tongue that was unable to remain inside her mouth.
"Please...." she gasped and groaned, her hands reaching out to capture Scott's wrists and stop him from continuing his pleasure-torture of her wanting body. "Kiss it! Oh God! I have to feel your tongue inside me."
To Maryann, the idea was more abhorrent than ever. What was even worse was the apparent way Scott was going to comply with Trish's demands. He pulled his hands away from her, then put his palms beneath her knees and raised her long legs in the air. He pushed her thighs back until her heels were pressing against her buttocks, and resting on the edge of the dressing table so that her knees were pointed straight up in the air as her head rested against the large mirror behind her. Again and again he allowed the palms of his hands to trace their way down the smooth creaminess of her inner thighs. In an almost involuntary reaction to what was happening, Trish's thighs spread even wider, giving him a full and unobstructed view of the thickly pouting lips of her vagina.
From where she was standing, Maryann, peering through the telescopic camera viewfinder, was able to see the same thing over Andy Scott's left shoulder. She trembled and felt another tremor dance the length of her spine as she realized she looked the same way between her own thighs. This was what Ralph Stanley had looked at on her body when he had fucked her. The idea made her tremble, and Maryann shook her head, trying to wipe the thought from her mind.
"Please...." Trish was gasping and begging. "Please...."
The chunky man grinned, obviously more than a little pleased with the reaction he was building in this woman. He enjoyed the sight of her spread out on the dressing table before him. Slowly he bent forward, bringing his mouth toward the waiting lips of her dripping cunt, inhaling her effluvium deeply before lightly kissing the tender labia. The reaction was a high-voltage power burst through the trembling woman. Her entire body stiffened, jerked up, then slammed right back down to the dressing table. She gasped and moaned low and high, sounds that were clearly heard by Maryann, letting the female investigator know just how much pleasure Trish was feeling from what was happening.
Now Andy Scott's lips were pressing firmly against the hot cuntlips of Trish Farquar. They firmly planted themselves on the swollen bulge of the woman's pubis, and Trish's hands all but slammed down and grabbed his head as she tangled her fingers in the dark-brown strands of his curling hair.
Maryann stared, aghast, unable to understand how any woman would allow a man to do that to her, and how any man would really want to do it. Yet even as she wondered these things, her own body was responding with more and more heat, and she felt the oils bubbling in the depths of her cunt, waiting to come out. She stared at the way Scott's tongue flicked out and lightly tickled through the dark pelvic hairs covering Trish's venereal mount. The sight so inwardly inflamed her, her nostrils twitched as if she, too, were able to smell the musky essences flowing from Trish's aroused pussy.
And Scott worked his flat, pink tongue over the rounded lips of her pussy, feasting on her body. He lapped and licked, his heavy, viscous saliva joining the flowing juices from her hot cunt until the dark hedge of hair surrounding her pink pussy was drenched and shining.
Still in a teasing fashion, his tongue continued flicking over the creamy white surface of her thighs, leaving a shining trail of saliva dribbling from between the lips of the woman who twisted and gasped and shuddered on the dressing table in front of him.
The man worked hard, licking with his tongue over the swollen mound of labial desire, purposely avoiding the cleft between her cuntlips, watching the way it throbbed, aching for the entry of his slurping tongue. Again and again he continually licked and slurped around the wetly pink lips of her dribbling labia, now using his tongue in the way he had used his fingers, earlier. Higher and higher he licked, egging the woman on, teasing and taunting until she was a veritable bundle of nerves ignited and waiting to be exploded.
Now she was ready, and now Andy Scott used the tip of his short, flat pink tongue, letting it flicker against the curlicued division between her vaginal labia. That was when Trish screamed. Her gasps were high and loud as she bellowed in pleasure again and again. Her entire body bucked and quivered as if continuous bursts of electrical energy were being pumped into each and every one of her shuddering nerve-endings.
Abruptly, Trish's hands jerked forward, still gripping the man's hair, and she tugged the man's face into the steaming depths of her shuddering pussy, as if trying to smother him to death within the folds of her vagina. The man pressed his face inside willingly, as if allowing himself to be smothered.
Maryann gasped and trembled, watching the effect Andy Scott's tongue was having on Trish Farquar, and now her inner juices began leaking out and seeping down her thighs, soaking her panties and stockings.
Lapping, Andy Scott slurped up and down the delicious slash of rich coral, pulling out the oily moisture. His working tongue was in constant motion, whipping and lashing in her burning cleft of desire, making Trish Farquar continue to gasp and shudder. Eventually he allowed her hands, now gripping both hair and ears, to guide his tongue to the extended bud of her shimmering clitoris, and once more Trish screamed and shouted as his oral organ lashed itself across the ultra-sensitive tip of her extended button like a lingual whip.
Now the man moved in on the pleasure nodule, and Trish was so hoarse from shouting, she was only able to gasp. Scott's lips surrounded the tiny penis-like organ and he began sucking, strongly. At the same time his tongue swirled and licked its way around the meaty little bud of lust.
Trish's entire body was quivering and shaking now, demanding that the sensations he built up in her be released. Her full breasts, now fully exposed, sported hard, brown nipples that rode atop the trembling fleshquakes that were her breasts. She moaned and gasped and grunted, her hips hunched into the man's face as if to let go would mean death.
Andy Scott sucked harder and harder, licking with more powerful and vibrant sweeps of his working tongue. Knowing her consuming need, he worked two fingers into the juice-dripping cave of her heatedly tight vagina and pumped into it. Together, his lips and tongue worked with his fingers in perfect harmony to bring about a greater reaction from the woman.
The dual stimulation was all Trish Farquar needed. Her entire trembling body exploded in an orgasmic rush as Maryann got the pictures, and the tape recorder picked up the, "AAAAIIIIIIYYYYYYAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH ... AAAANNNNNN! GGGGGGHHHHAAAARRRRGGGHHH!"
Pleasure tore through every cell in Trish's body as she gasped and grunted, letting him see every nuance of delight working its way through her. Finally the man tugged his mouth away from her lust-laden cunt and stood back, watching the woman's dripping oils smear themselves along the mirrored top of the dressing table where her buttocks were still wriggling.
Now the man's hands were at his belt buckle, opening it. Then he was pulling down his zipper. It took him almost no time to completely undress.
Maryann watched, almost totally hypnotized, her body quivering with an unwanted lust. After all, what she was watching was obscene. Though she had been affected to some degree all the other times she had taken photos of infidelity, this was the first time such things had really fired her to the point where she felt the desire to touch her own body. No! No! She would not violate herself. This was one thing she would resist at all costs. She had her self-respect.
She stared as Andy Scott gripped his cock and stroked it a few times with his own hand, and then stepped between the thighs of the woman who lay atop the dressing table. At the moment Trish seemed completely lost in a world of sexual oblivion.
Roughly, the chunky man pulled at her open thighs until her buttocks were at the very edge of the table. Her thighs were still widely spread and her pink pussy lay lasciviously open to him.
Grasping the swollen red length of his throbbing cock, the man slowly moved in. Trish tensed as the bloated acorn-like head parted the outer lips of her throbbing vagina. The woman was suddenly snapped back to reality as the man slowly but surely shoved his thickness into the sweetly resisting tunnel.
Grunting like an old bull in heat, Andy Scott plunged into the heated wetness of her dripping interior. Trish gasped and shuddered with surprised pleasure as the hammering thickness lanced into her with just enough resistance to make the feeling totally pleasurable to the two of them.
"Hhuuuunnnnhhhh!" Trish gasped. "Don't move
... don't move. Give me a moment."
The man's face wore a wide, knowing grin as he remained perfectly still, his swollenly, throbbing cock soaking in the luxurious heat of her burning vagina. He nodded to Trish whose head was once again pressing against the mirror behind her.
Skewered like a piece of roasted meat, the woman felt delightfully impaled on the hardness of Andy Scott's organ. She felt every throb of his solid, manly penis. The burning interior of her trembling body willingly accepted the offer of his phallus and her slippery folds and membranes now molded themselves around the throbbing contours of his heavy cock. Trish felt a fresh sea of lubricating waters well up inside her, preparing her membranes for the poling she was about to receive.
"Okay," she finally gasped in a deep, husky voice that let him know she was more than ready to take everything he had to offer.
Leaning against the softness that was the woman's body, Scott allowed himself to move his hands up the soft contours of her trembling thighs and stomach until he finally filled his palms with the globes of her rounded breasts. His fingers very carefully kneaded the two large marshmallow-like cushions as he began pumping in and out of her oil-filled pocket with his stolid cock.
Maryann stared, realizing he was doing to the woman what Ralph Stanley had done to her. At the time, she had felt how wondrous it was without knowing how arousing it looked. Now, seeing this couple, she realized she and Stanley must have looked just as thrilling. No! She had to shut such thoughts out of her mind. Sex was something that ought only to be practiced between husband and wife. It was because so many people flouted these rules that she and Ralph had their jobs. Well she'd be damned if she would ever allow herself to willingly be caught in a compromising position.
Andy Scott's movements were cautious and, of necessity, restricted, since he didn't want to bang his knees against the edge of the dressing table. However, occasionally his desire and eagerness took command and he would smartly bang his kneecaps into the hard edge of wood and glass. If there was any pain he was too enraptured by what he was doing to feel it.
Trish groaned as he began to slither and slam his penis inside her. Like a living virile cylinder of delighted pleasure he worked his throbbing penis inside her. She was so alive and sensitive from the recent release of her lust Trish felt the slightest little twetchings of his pulsating rod. The swollen knob of his heavy glans pushed into the heated opening of her body and she groaned as it strained the sensitive walls of her vagina. Each time his penis eased back, her vagina leaped forward and snapped it in like living rubber sucking at the thickness of his heavy prong.
Andy Scott moved with a slow, determined rhythm, giving her time to accustom herself to his length and breadth. Gratefully, Trish tenderly caressed the tense muscles in the nape of his strong neck.
"Fuck me harder!" she said, loud enough for the microphone to pick it up, letting Maryann know of the urgency that was building in the depths of her seething cunt.
Scott responded, increasing the power of his mighty lunges into her trembling body. Groaning and moaning, Trish squeezed her vaginal membranes tightly around the throbbing organ, desperately trying to make her slick interior even tighter for his moving penis. His hands clutched at her breasts, gripping them tightly as if they were knobs to be held onto. He crushed and squeezed and all but pulverized the milky melons of her shuddering breasts between his working fingers. Her pelvis worked in time with her hips, which, in turn, responded to the way his hips drove into her. Like hungry lips of desire her vulva swallowed up his full length, then clung to the thick shaft as it managed to slide free again. Each stroke was hard, loud, and noisily wet now, being picked up loud and clear by Maryann's tiny, powerful microphone. The man was plunging and pulling, back and forth, in and out of the wetness of her straining vaginal opening.
"Ohhhhh Goddddd!" she moaned, bucking under him.
Scott's mouth fell to Trish's throat, his teeth strongly nibbling as he hunched his hips even more strongly as he slammed himself into the depths of liquid warmth surrounding his penis. She had one tight cunt, all right.
Trish's legs wrapped themselves around his buttocks and her heels pressed him so tightly he was unable to move for a moment. He looked straight into her eyes as she said, "Would you like to come in my mouth?"
"Not this time," he snorted, slamming his tremendously swollen pole into the saddle of lust he had mounted.
He speared, lanced and impaled her, his hard cock growing, enlarging, and expanding with desire as he plummeted deeper and deeper into her raging cunt. Grunting and groaning, he sliced into the wickedly wanton channel of her belly, sinking all the way in, then refusing to leave the delightful haven he had found. His hands roughly pushed and pulled on the twin mounds of her breasts.
"Haaaaaannnnggggghhh...." she grunted beneath the continuing onslaught of desire. "Hhhhhuuuuuuuugggghhhh!"
Again and again he slammed into her, stabbing each maddening stroke even deeper into her nest of love and lust. He worked, grunting and groaning as the scabbarding tightness of her squirming cunt squeezed him. He finally jerked free of her enfolding tunnel of lascivious desire, then speared back into the burning hollow of her steaming cunt. Surrendering to the man's demands, Trish arched upward, using her back against the mirror for leverage to open herself even more to Scott's invading swelling.
Locking her calves behind the man's buttocks, with only her coccyx pressing on the edge of the table, she continued to urge him on, shouting, "Fuck me! Fuck me until I scream for mercy!"
"Ohhhhh yeeeeaaaaahhhhh!" he answered back as he continued slamming into her.
He pumped and she squeezed, and Maryann stared, remembering how reluctantly she had surrendered to Ralph Stanley and how she had finally reacted at the end. Trish was ten times more violent because she was willing right from the start.
Scott hunched and gyrated his pelvis as he slammed into her, and Trish thrilled to the length of hard muscle and meat that continued cramming itself into her. A white-hot rod delved into the center of a burning volcano as they continued working together. Their fevered desire rose in consuming unison. Each tried to gobble up the other with the fiery lust of one another's desire. Trish's nails dug into the man's back as she shoved herself ever harder against the wonderful attack of the man's loins. A low scream of pleasure came bursting from her lust-twisted lips as the explosion within her came blasting out, throwing her into the wonderful oblivion of orgasmic desire.
"AAAAIIIIIYYYY AAAAGGGGHH AH!" she bellowed, turning, twisting, wriggling, squirming, writhing, pumping, thrusting, and gyrating. Her body was pure lava now, spewing in many directions at once.
At the same time, Andy Scott felt the flood rise at the base of his aching penis. Each plunging stroke drove the thrilling swirls higher and higher along his stiffened length. Then his willpower finally fell and he spewed a flood of semen into the tightly contracting clutch of her narrow cunnus. His heavy balls were fully intent on completely emptying themselves.
"EEEEYYYYYAAAAAGGGGGHHHH ... AAAAAAAAGG-GGHH-HH ... GGGGAAAAGGGGHHHHHHAAAAAARRRRRRNNNNNNGGGGHHGGHHHH!!!" he bellowed.
Abruptly, his knees turned to liquid and he slowly sank to the floor, tugging his still-spurting penis from her dripping vaginal tunnel. Groaning and gasping as creamy spurts of white sperm blasted from his cock, he rolled onto his back and lay prone on the carpet, out of sight of the window. By now it didn't matter since Maryann had all the pictures she would want.
When at last he descended from the heavenly pleasure above he recognized the gentle feel of a feminine tongue on his deflating penis, and though she was unable to see what was happening, Maryann was correctly guessing what Trish was doing.
She had all the pictures and all the sound she needed. Now it was time to get back to the office.
No! It was only five-fifteen. That meant she had to hang around and watch to see if Scott would remain with the woman or if he had somewhere else to go.
A few minutes later, she saw Andy Scott get to his feet, kiss Trish on her semen-smeared mouth, and then he began dressing.
Hurrying downstairs, Maryann checked her watch and patiently waited, and less than five minutes later, Andy Scott left the Farquar home. He walked around the corner at the end of the block, heading away from her. She waited a moment, then followed.
It was a warm day, so Maryann put on the car airconditioner and rolled up her window. She was still perspiring and put it down to the heat of the day, but the truth was she was aroused. Even now, she refused to admit it to herself. She was burning up, but as far as she was concerned, unmarried sex was wrong, and she wanted nothing to do with it. Now and again she had to fight to gain control of herself as she felt another squirt of lubricant shoot into her panty-crotch. Lord! She was sodden down there.
Scott was not heading in the direction of his home, and she wondered just where it was he did intend going. The only way to find out was to stay on his tail.
Maryann followed discreetly until Scott's car pulled up on Pacific Avenue in front of Marona's Italian Restaurant. There was a parking lot off to the side, so Maryann parked her Celica there. Had she looked into her rearview mirror, she would have seen another man watching both, Andy Scott's car and hers. When Scott got out of his car and went inside, walking up the stairs to the bar and grill, Maryann walked in through the restaurant doors. Had she gone to the ladies' room and reversed her coat and put on her blonde wig, everything would have been fine. Certain she hadn't been spotted by Scott, it never occurred to her someone else was watching her.
The restaurant section of Marona's had a polished wooden floor with lots of blacktopped tables all around. Against the right wall were booths sectioned off by the large two-sided seats that served as partitions as well as seats. To the left was an old-fashioned pair of swinging doors into the bar, and that, by itself, was a big-enough mistake since she was the only female among a half-dozen men sitting and watching the huge TV set above the mirrored bar. There were two booths to her right as she entered, and one of them had Andy Scott in it.
Turning around and walking out now would be a big mistake, so she walked up to the bar and ordered a beer. She hated the stuff but it would give her some kind of excuse for being there.
As the bartender drew one, the front door, to her left, opened and a hulking man walked in. He might have been anywhere from thirty-five to fifty. He was about fifteen pounds overweight. Had it not been for the bleary eyes he might have been good-looking in spite of his excess poundage, all of which had obviously come from beer. He looked at Maryann again, as if wondering why she had entered by way of the restaurant, and then had walked into the bar. He also noticed that the stool on which she was perched was across from the booth occupied by Andy Scott.
"Drew," Scott called out. "Over here."
Drew! Maryann thought. Drew Farquar? What the blazes was going on?
Opening her purse, she took "out her unidirectional microphone and tucked it under her right arm, aiming the head directly at the booth. At the same time she took out the earplug from the tape recorder and put it in her ear. Fortunately she knew how to move unobtrusively, so it looked as if she was listening to a transistor radio while drinking her beer. She tapped her foot as if listening to music.
"How's everything going?" Farquar asked.
"Perfect," Scott replied. "She's really nuts about me. She thinks I'm crazy about her."
"Good," Farquar nodded, still looking at Maryann's shapely body concentrating on the roundness of her derriere. "Now remember, tomorrow night you set yourself up with a nice alibi because that's when your wife gets it. You collect a tidy insurance policy. Sunday, when I'll be out fishing with four of my friends, you'll do the honors with Trish, and then I'll collect."
Maryann froze. They were planning a double murder. She had to find Ralph Stanley right away and let him know what was going on.
Finishing her beer, she unobtrusively slipped the mike back into her purse. She was about to remove the earphone, when Drew Farquar suddenly got to his feet, walked up to where she was sitting, and said, "Good music?"
Looking blandly at him, she replied, "I beg your pardon?"
"I see you're listening to a pocket radio. I just asked if that's good music."
At first Maryann was terrified he had discovered what she had been doing. Luckily, the second half of the tape on the recorder had pre-recorded music. She turned a small switch, took out the ear plug and handed it to him, letting him hear it, himself. He smiled, and that was when she realized, this was a pickup. In this area, the only girl who would walk into a bar would be a woman looking to be picked up. Once again it would be the bored housewife syndrome, so a woman picked up here wouldn't even be classified as a whore since she would be doing it out of boredom rather than for money. The worst part of all this was, if she tried to slip away from them, the two men might begin to suspect something was wrong.
"What are you drinking?" Farquar asked her.
"Beer," she told him. "I was waiting for someone. He ought to be here at any moment."
"Beer?" Farquar frowned. "Come to the table and have something really good to drink. Charley!" he called out to the bartender. "Bring the little lady some of that special stuff."
"Special stuff?" she asked, as she allowed herself to be ushered into the booth next to Drew Farquar.
"A combination of drambuie, pernod, and absinthe," he replied.
"Charley stocks it just for me," Drew told her as the bartender brought the milky looking drink to the table. "Don't worry, it's good for you," Farquar insisted.
"Uhh ... yeah," Scott agreed, wondering what was going on in Farquar's mind. He had an eye for ladies, but he usually wasn't this open about a pickup.
They talked about nothing for the next fifteen minutes while Maryann slowly but surely finished her drink. It lost no time in sending all kinds of signals to her body, titillating her already overheated cunt.
"Looks like your boyfriend isn't coming," Farquar finally said. "I guess that leaves the three of us alone. Come on, honey, we'll show you a good time."
He was standing near her now as he rose from the table.
"Say, look," Maryann told him. "I like to pick my own friends if it's all right with you."
Her eyes were locked on his groin which was about the height of her forehead. Clearly out-lined against the thin fabric of his pants was a thickness she found difficult to believe. It had to rival that of Ralph Stanley, and she wondered how any woman was really capable of handling something like that, night after night. She felt sorry for Trish Farquar and understood the woman's possible reluctance to have anything to do with her husband, thus needing the services of a slightly thinner penis. Yet she, herself, had been cruelly impaled on the tree-trunk thickness of Ralph Stanley, and she had not only lived to tell about it, but had actually wanted more.
She tore her eyes away and looked up, noting the man was looking down at her with a fevered-lust in his eyes. He gripped her arm and said, "Come on, honey. We can all have a good time."
Maryann knew she might scream, but she also knew it wouldn't do her very much good. Drew Farquar was well-known in this bar.
"All right," she nodded, standing up, slipping her car keys into her skirt pocket. "Is it okay if I leave my purse with the bartender so I don't lose it?"
"Sure, honey," Farquar nodded.
He took her purse from her and without opening it, handed it to the bartender, saying, "Here, Charley, hold onto this until the little lady comes back for it."
"Sure thing," the bland-faced bartender winked back.
"We're going to be in the room upstairs in case anyone comes asking for me," Farquar said.
"Gotcha," Charley replied.
They walked up a flight of stairs and down a dingy hallway to a door at the end. Farquar opened the door and turned on the light, and Maryann found herself in a large, airy bedroom. Considering the dinginess of the rest of the place, this room looked almost palatial. The huge bed in the center of the room would sleep four people with no trouble. It sat on a burgundy rug, and there were drapes around the one window across the room, to match. White gauze curtains hung before the window, itself.
There were no chairs in the room, and Maryann felt a sense of dread. She feared these men, but more, she feared the horrible feelings inside her. There were all kinds of wanton feelings inside her, and Maryann was trying to fight them. She was staring again, this time as the swelling in Andy Scott's groin enlarged. After what he had gone through with Trish Farquar, he was hot all over again. There had to be some way out of this, and in a hurry. Surges of lust were building inside her for some totally unknown reason, and she wished she was able to cope with them. She had no idea why these terrible feelings were invading her body and put it all down to what she had witnessed earlier, not realizing the drinking Andy and Drew had given her was a very powerful aphrodisiac.
Her eyes, like those of a startled rabbit, went from the face of one man to the other. Andy, the chunkier of the two men, had his eyes focused below her throat, a leering gleam in his eyes. He was staring at hier breasts as they pushed her brown coat out. She automatically put her hand to her throat, suddenly painfully aware of the nearness of the two males.
There was a small phone sitting on a night table to the left of the bed, and it rang. Drew picked it up, nodded, then put it down.
"I can't figure you out," he said to Maryann. "You come on like some bored little twat whose husband doesn't treat her right. You tell us you're waiting for someone, but that someone doesn't show up. I'm just kinda curious why you came into the bar at the same time as Andy. Charley looked in your purse. There was that transistor musical tape of yours on the tape player there, and mostly women's junk...." thank God she had left the camera in the car...."yet you don't look like a floozie. I suppose the only way to determine if you're really looking for a good time is for Andy and me to fuck you."
Before she was able to reply, feeling all the horror and dread she was capable of feeling, Drew reached over and grabbed her left breast with crudely groping fingers, kneading the pillowy mound through the thin covering of her coat, blouse, and brassiere. He tugged her to her feet, pulled off the coat, and threw it to the side, letting it hit the yellowed wallpaper, and then he began crushing her breast again.
Maryann's bodily reaction was shockingly violent. She was absolutely terrified, but at the same time waves of excruciating pleasure spread through her drug-awakened flesh until she felt as if her nerve-endings had been scraped raw and were being touched with electrical wires. She thought they were exploding along the surface of her aroused flesh. Delicious thrills centered in her nipple and breast, the electric tingling racing to her fingers and toes, then flowing from there to her tightly clenched vaginal lips, zigzagging through her like alternating current.
Reaching up, she did her best to force Drew Farquar's hand away, but her weak efforts had no effect, and the licentious torture of her breast continued, unabated. As the powerful man's hand traveled to her other breast, the soft, spongy, expectant nipple suddenly came throbbingly to violent life, feeling as if it were constantly being stabbed and lanced by ten-thousand pleasurable porcupine quills. She fell back onto the bed, her buttocks grinding desperately into the mattress in a vain attempt to put out the burning, searing flames that seemed to be licking greedily at her soddenly drenched panties.
The sweetish flavors of pernod, absinthe, and drambuie began sizzling through her bloodstream, now intensifying the new and uncontrolled sensations beginning to course through her completely against her will. She was all but fighting with the two men, but even worse, she was struggling with herself, trying to maintain control of her will. She had to fight with herself to sit still, her mind battling furiously against the tiny flickering sparks of delicious sensation that threatened to explode into overpoweringly violent and blistering passion and swallow her in her helplessness.
"No," Maryann insisted. "Stop this!" But even as she said it she was aware her voice no longer carried conviction. Deep down she knew she didn't want anything to happen, but her body was fighting her all the way. The worst part of it was, she wasn't the least bit attracted to either of these two men. Her eyes began pleading with Drew, then she looked away in shame, certain he was thinking about the effect his fondling of her breasts was having on her sexually awakening body.
Suddenly, from the other side, Andy Scott's powerful hands closed in a solid grip of squeezing iron on her slender shoulders and tugged her roughly up from the bed on which she had been sitting toward his now-standing body. He completely disregarded her hands as they pushed against his chest, his arms crushing her to him as his hotly searching mouth came down on hers in a disgustingly lewd and passionate kiss. She fancied she was able to taste the drops of semen he had kissed from Trish Farquar's mouth. She groaned and feebly tried squirming away for a sudden panicky instant as she felt Scott massaging his palm into the firmly resilient and out-thrust hill of her left breast. He began pinching her nipple through her blouse.
Shuddering, terrified, despairing of being able to get away from these two gorilla-like men, she felt her one defense was the useless one she had once tried against Ralph Stanley. She went limp, surprised at the softness of the man's kissing lips as they subversively tried converting hers to their cause. Once more, she felt little moth-like flutterings begin to tingle excitedly through her trembling belly. To her horror, even though she knew it was terribly and shamefully wrong, her senses suddenly began awakening with overwhelming desire for the two tough-muscled men, and though she didn't love them or feel amorous, she felt anxious to be possessed by them. There was something exceptionally arousing about Andy Scott, and the way he held her against him made her tremble, almost as if she wanted this terrible thing to happen.
Having witnessed the way he had made love to Trish Farquar, she saw a different kind of lust shining in his eyes right now, and she realized that whatever he had done with Trish was pure playacting. There was nothing phony about the lust he felt for her. Not that he loved her, but she was someone new, different, a pussy to be tried and tested. She was the kind of woman he felt would cause him to have more than a single erection. With Trish he always held off his orgasm as long as possible, because with her, one was enough.
Unconsciously, little by little the woman stopped her helpless and vain struggles and pressed forward in an attempt to encourage the man further without realizing it. She was grinding her own body against his as the aphrodisiac burned through her, making her forget her previous vows of attempted chastity. A moment later, her suddenly confused mind was abruptly wrenched back to the reality of the moment.
Another hand, a cooler one had jerked her blouse from the waistband of her skirt, and now fingers were slipping up her body under the light material, sliding smoothly and sneakily around to her flat stomach, then slowly up to her ribs. The fingers pushed beneath the cups of her brassiere to fill themselves with the firm out-thrusting of her right breast. Sheer terror for a second wiped out the inner explosions of thrillingly wanton pleasure emanating from the licentiously thrilling kneading of the defenseless mound. Once more she desperately struggled and fought to free herself of the iron grip Andy had, her entire self once more filled with terror and revulsion for all that was happening. However, standing directly behind her, Farquar only chuckled strongly and once again squeezed the round yielding of her breast, gripping it tightly while at the same time grinding the stiffened and hardened bulge inside his pants into her skirtcovered asscheeks, forcing the soft material to bunch in the narrow crevice while his friend firmly held her in his strong arms.
Just as she thought she might be pushing the man away, he pinched cruelly at her hardening rubbery nipple, causing the beautiful woman to tightly grit her teeth in an effort to quell the sharp surge of sensation inside her. She had no wish to give these two men who were taking advantage of the strange desire coursing unexpectedly through her the satisfaction of hearing her helplessly groan aloud with a mingling of agony and delight. Then Drew Farquar's broad tongue was flickering wetly into her ear from in back of her, and once again she gasped, feeling helpless, forgetting her desire to resist. She slammed her body back solidly against the stiffened hardness of his cock. While Andy Scott held her so tightly to him she was unable to help feeling his stiffened cock pressing into the front of her soft skirt, Farquar's other hand began sliding down over her rounded hips, sliding around them, and then suddenly clasping at the cloth covering the soft mound of her gentle pelvis.
No longer was Maryann able to ignore the unchecked and rampaging sensations of delirious pleasure that were beginning to wildly charge through her pillarly loins against her will. She tightly squeezed her lovely eyes shut, struggling with all her remaining will power against the knowingly forbidden thrills and excitement, but the throbbingly tantalizing fingers teasing consistently at the mounds that were her breasts, the searing lips crushing relentlessly against her own mouth, and the rock-like stiffness of the two penises digging into her trembling belly and rounded buttocks were all too much for the aphrodisiacally drugged woman, and against her will, she heard soft moans of helpless submission beginning to rise from deep inside her panting and heaving chest.
It was happening to her all over again, just as it had happened with Ralph Stanley, though he hadn't needed drugs to control her. He was right about her loving him. She realized that now. Fat lot of good it did her with these apes on top of her. There were two of them, and apparently equally adept at rousing the animal hidden inside her. Prior to her having gotten into this line of work, her ex-husband had been the only man to maul and intimately touch her as she was now being manhandled by both, Farquar and Scott. She had never before dreamed of experiencing the sheer wantonness of never caring just who was touching her as long as the delicious feelings might be able to continue, unabated. Now, for the first time, she had become prey to the thrilling sensations of inner excitement and danger that accompany all the forbidden pleasures. For the first time in her life Maryann knew the true meaning of the word fear. When Ralph Stanley had raped her, she must have inwardly loved him even then, because in spite of her continued resistance, she had never felt any inner terror. These men froze her with horror. What was really bad was the way she found herself responding to the dual manipulation of the two men. She had no explanation for it.
"Shit, baby you are really well-stacked," she heard Drew Farquar gasp appreciatively from behind, whispering into her aphrodisiacally aroused ear. "From the minute I saw you I wanted to get inside you, but I never dreamed it'd be so quick. Hell, by the time the two of us get around to finally fucking you, you're going to want this as much as we do."
"Oh my God ... God ... n-o-o-o-o-o ... pleeeeaaaassse ... no ... you can't," she begged, pleading helplessly as she felt the deliciously obscene ripples of unwanted lust suddenly flitting insanely across the surface of her trembling skin at each lascivious sound of every word the man used. "You mustn't do this...."
"Cut the shit!" Farquar insisted. "You ain't fooling anyone. Only a real hot-cunted girl would walk into Marona's Bar. We both saw the way you were looking at our cocks, before, so we're going to give you a little taste of what you wanted, already. You see, we're going to show you how much fun you can have being as bad as you want to be. Yeah, we're all three of us going to be real naughty," he told her, his fingers slowly beginning to lift her skirt higher and higher.
"Oh no, no, no!" she cried out as she realized what the man was about to do to her. "Please ... don't touch me there ... please!" she begged, groaning and trying to twist away, using the last of her fading willpower to try and overcome the continually tingling whirpool of throbbing sensation that was building in the depths of her trembling belly.
Abruptly she sucked her breath deep into her lungs as she felt the hem of her nylon skirt grazing across the tops of her thighs and the obscenely probing fingers suddenly came in contact with the delicate smoothness of her exposed thigh flesh. Lightning-like thrills and sensations flashed over her milkwhite flesh as she felt Farquar's fingers slowly worm their way under the tight elastic band of her panties. One finger insinuated itself forward from the rear of her trembling cunt, the man's touch teasing thrillingly at her sparse covering of pelvic hair. Her bare arms were securely pinned to her sides as Andy Scott held her close to him as she wriggled frantically, trying desperately to escape these two who were each planning to murder the other's wife. All the while her lust continued to mount and she struggled against it. But it was a hopeless struggle because they were using their overwhelming strength and her arousal was helping to betray her own inner moral values. She sobbed helplessly as Farquar's fingers played for a moment between her delicate thighs; then suddenly one of them curled determinedly into the defenselessly moist slash of her vagina, parting her soft pubic hair, the tip of his finger scraping lightly at the tiny bud of her already partially extended clitoris. It throbbed and immediately erected itself more fully. Completely humiliated by her own reaction, the drugged female investigator knew her vaginal opening was moist and slippery from the unwanted desire now pervading her entire being, and she breathed deeply to restrain the groans and moans of agonized pleasure that threatened to betray the effect they were having on her. To let these men know what she was feeling would be the most horrible thing she might do, and it was a satisfaction she mustn't allow them if she was to maintain even the slightest trace of dignity and self-respect.
The beautiful investigator trembled with uncontrolled and involuntary delight as she felt the tip of Farquar's finger moving deeper between her thighs, opening the ragged edges of the lips of her seething pussy to circle tormentingly around and around and finally slip through the clinging elastic mouth of her cunnus to ignite tingling explosions in every one of her shattered nerve-endings. The rigid shaft of Farquar's cock, still covered by his pants, w-edged itself insistently into the valley between her defensively clenching buttocks, and Scott's rock-solid cock seemed like some kind of living weapon angrily pressing without mercy against the yielding flesh of her lower belly as he rubbed his hips rhythmically against her shuddering torso. The two hands on her breasts, one still outside, and the other pushed up under her clothing squeezed and pulled her tenderly soft flesh. The hypnotic regularity of the hands mauling her breasts matched the motion of Drew Farquar's thick finger sawing maddeningly in and out of her heatedly contracting vagina.
No, she thought. This can't be happening to me. I have to fight it. I mustn't let go.
The surges of lust built higher and higher in her trembling body, and the fiery tension was starting to dull her mind to the point where resistance to what they were doing was all but impossible. She trembled, feeling as if she were going to burst into wildly searing flame at any moment. Her body ached and craved satisfaction. Once she had loved a man and that man had done nothing but hurt her until she had finally been divorced from him. She had no love for either of these men, yet both were causing passion to mount ever higher in her belly. It no longer mattered who the men were or who she was. What counted was the hungrily gnawing emptiness in her trembling belly that needed to be filled-that would drive her right out of her everlovin' mind if some kind of total satisfaction was not forthcoming. If that satisfaction had to take the form of a penis buried in her vagina, then that was what she would accept. Even now, the idea of a man putting his mouth down there was too abhorrent to contemplate.
Without conscious thought, the lovely female investigator began moaning softly, gasping and murmuring, refusing to say the words, though her sighs were all the two men had to hear. It was enough for them to understand.
As if those sighs were signals that the two men had been eagerly waiting for, they looked at one another and nodded, knowingly. They immediately loosened their hold on her trembling body as the aphrodisiac in her built her to a more fevered pitch of lust, and Maryann felt one of them working feverishly at the side zipper of her skirt while the other tore excitedly at the bottom of her sweater. The stunned woman no longer fought and struggled, but stood mute, almost impatient herself as they stripped her of her clothing. Farquar undid the snaps of her brassiere while Scott all but ripped her white-laced bikini panties in his hungry impatience to pull them down the smooth length of her legs.
At last the two men stepped away from her, studying the finished result of their work, leaving Maryann helplessly standing by the bed as she burned with desire, feeling the heat of their hungry glances searing across her defenseless nakedness. They stood a few feet away from her, obviously moved by the tautly curved magnificence of her lithe figure and smooth, milk-white flesh. In spite of the fact that she inwardly knew all this was wrong, Maryann was unable to help the feeling of pride welling up in her as their awed eyes took in every nicely rounded and curved line of her body, her con tours bathed in the rays of the setting sun as it filtered through the white gauzy curtains coming into the room. It had been such a long time since they had seen either of their wives looking anywhere near this good.
Andy Scott gasped, "My God! You're stunning. You're one hell of a looker, you are. Jesus! Look at those tits, and that light bush. Oh wow! I haven't fucked something like you in a really long time."
The sincerity in the man's voice, in spite of the fact that he had only recently fucked Trish Farquar, made Maryann feel more and more aroused. It made the two men appear less objectionable than her husband, and as a result she felt a little less concerned over the fact that the two men were going to share her flesh. She almost wanted them to enjoy her, frightened as she was of them, if only because they made her feel like a real woman. She had no idea it was the aphrodisiac in her body that was making her act and feel this way. Had it not been circulating through her bloodstream, she would never have acquiesced to anything like this. The burning yearning the pernod-drambuie-absinthe drink created in her body was far beyond anything she had ever previously felt.
"Yeah," Drew Farquar agreed. "She's some looker, all right. It's going to be a pleasure fucking this one instead of those pigs I sometimes have to settle for while doing construction work."
Maryann knew better than to say anything. In spite of the fact that her body was yearning for love, she didn't dare admit it to either of these men who, in her mind, were still beasts-gorillas.
triumphantly, Andy Scott turned her body to face him and he clamped his hands on her breasts, pushing her back toward the bed. Maryann shuddered, feeling the weight of his palms against her nipples as the chunky man, barely taller than herself, began squeezing and twisting her breasts as if they were nothing more than the handlebars on a motorcycle. Maryann shuddered, feeling new thrills surging through her body as the drugs within her continued circulating. She was so aroused and excited, it no longer occurred to her the men were making use of her body for their own carnal pleasures. She wanted to be taken forcefully ... or did she? Once again a sliver of doubt crawled into her mind, and yet her body was pleading with her to turn herself over to them completely, letting them be her ruthless guides in the long mountain-climb to the highest peaks of passion.
A startled look suddenly crossed her face as she fell back onto the bed on her back under the continued force of Andy Scott's continued and insistent pushing. Tremors surged through Maryann as her bare buttocks, then her back, and her shoulders came into contact with the mattress. She felt the cool sheets exciting her warm flesh. Somehow one of the men had pulled the covers back, and her body was tremblingly alive because of what she had swallowed with sensations and desires she had experienced only once before without the aid of anything to drink. Only once before had she experienced such a depraved and wanton feeling in the depths of her belly, and her vagina quivered and heaved as if she already had a long, thick penis buried in her teeming depths, filling her vagina and pumping away. Her mind filled itself with the memory of Ralph Stanley, and she wished he was the one there, right now.
Looking up, her gaze met the lust-filled eyes of Andy Scott standing at the side of the bed between her widespread calves. Now her gaze moved to the face of the bulkier Drew Farquar. For the first time she noticed his heavy mustache and realized that was what made it difficult for her to determine his age. Without it, the man would probably look ten years younger. There was an expression of lecherous triumph on Farquar's face. His expression of sexual hunger began unnerving her. She suddenly realized that to these men she was nothing more than hot meat to be fucked at their pleasure, and not another human being whose own satisfaction was at least equal in need to their own. Fear began returning to her in spite of the wild, uncontrollable passion she felt seething through her trembling body.
"No...." she shouted out. "Don't ... please ... wait ... I just can't do this...." she gasped, hoping her pleading and begging might strike a chord of pity in at least one of these men and they would release her. Certainly she was incapable of physically besting the two of them in spite of her knowledge of judo. Besides, it was her own will she was fighting, as well.
"You're wrong, you sexy piece of ass," Farquar told her, taunting her. "You can do this ... you will do this, because the two of us are going to fuck you and fuck you, and then fuck you again. This way we know for sure that you came here looking for a good time, and you had no other reason."
"What other reason would I have?" she asked, gasping.
"Just to prove to us that you don't have another reason, you're going to fuck, honey. "
"Yeah," Andy Scott nodded, and leaning down, he kissed the diamond-hard tip of her right nipple, driving the taunting words from her conscious mind with the lash of utter sensation as he enclosed the erected bud with his lips, pulling it very tightly as he swirled his wet tongue thrillingly over the tenderly sensitive flesh. Maryann gasped involuntarily, feeling the exquisite titillation and understood why Trish Farquar had fallen under this man's spell so readily. Even now, her inner sense of right and wrong stabbed at her, making her writhe in an attempt to twist away from the tingling suddenness of the thrillingly exciting contact. She found herself unable to move as she realized the man's strong hands, playing deftly over her thighs and hips, held her trembling body firmly against the mattress. She was right about one thing: Andy Scott didn't have a speck of dirt under his fingernails. He was immaculate. She gasped, the breath leaving her lungs as he began nibbling and sucking at the erect tips of her tan nipples, causing a blissful tickling to descend feather-like all the way into the depths of her shuddering cunt. The pinioned woman felt her breathing begin to quicken as in unconscious reaction, her buttocks began a slow grinding into the mattress, much the way they had done with Ralph Stanley. The sheets beneath her were no longer cool, but they were damp with droplets of her perspiration.
Maryann shut her eyes, feeling pure rapture charge through her trembling body as Andy's middle finger slid into the heated depths of her lust-soaked pussy. Without wanting to, she found herself provocatively wriggling her hips and forcing her loins against the constantly probing digit. A final passing sense of shame at what she was doing swept over her, making her sob with humiliation. Even so, the prurient desires were being agitated in her shuddering body, while slowly, rhythmically, the chunky man thrust his finger deeper and deeper into her wetly pulsating vaginal well. Once again, Maryann made a valiant attempt to wriggle from his impaling of her, trying a last desperate effort to stave off this seduction. Yes, it was more seduction than rape, because even though her mind was unwilling, her body was more than willing. Maryann was unable to understand it. There was no reason for her body to respond this strongly. She felt she was almost as much at fault for what was happening as these two bestial men. The pressure of the grinning man's strong masculine grip was altogether too much for her to resist in her present, passion-torn state of mind.
For the moment she had completely forgotten how and why she had originally fallen into the clutches of these two men. She had forgotten everything other than the sheer state of erotic bliss created by the way these men touched her with their heavily lusting bodies. She felt how skillfully Andy Scott was able to manipulate her tingling flesh to ever greater heights of continually mounting desire.
The adorable female investigator stared, watching in undisguised delight as the short, muscular Andy Scott began to once again peel his clothing off. This time he wasn't as neat as he had been with Trish Farquar. He simply pulled everything off and tossed in on the floor. When he was undressed, she realized that this close up, the massive length and breadth of his penis looked considerably larger than it had looked through the viewfinder of her camera. It was solidly rampant, and she knew it would fit into her perfectly, being slightly shorter and thicker than that of Ralph Stanley.
"Hey, wait a minute," Drew Farquar said, smiling. "Don't be in a hurry to fuck the doll. Not yet. Let's give her a thrill or two. I mean, she was good enough to come up here with us after only one drink. We oughtta give her a really good time."
Maryann was uncertain of what Drew Farquar meant by a really good time. She lifted her head from the mattress, noting she was still lying sideways on the bed, and then noticed Drew Farquar was also undressing. At the sight of the massive penis, her eyes almost bulged out of her head. It was every bit as long and as thick as Ralph Stanley's, and she was certain she would never be able to hold it inside her. Farquar's arrogant grin let her know he was more than pleased at the reaction to his thickness, and he began to taunt her by heavily stroking the loose outer skin back and forth, hooding the red tip with his uncircumcised foreskin. The mere idea of that terrifying wedge-shaped head fitting into her made her tremble. She stared at his massively dangling balls as they swayed between his thighs.
"Yeah, baby," Drew Farquar laughed. "I know it's a little bigger'n than what you're used to, but don't worry, we'll find a way to fit it into you, somehow."
He was snickering at her, and enjoying the fact that the female investigator was close to choking with shock at the sight of his immense, throbbing shaft of masculine flesh. Farquar glanced at Scott for a moment, then he grinned salaciously at the shorter man's obvious impatience. "Considering what you've already been through today, you'll be glad for a chance to relax. This time it's my turn to get first licks, if you follow my meaning. By the time I'm finished with her, I'll have this gorgeous cunt begging for your cock."
It was with a clear reluctance to give up the desirable and lushly contoured woman for even the littlest bit of time that Andy Scott stepped back from the bed, wiping saliva from his mouth with the back of his hand. Immediately, before the shorter man had an opportunity to change his mind, Farquar moved closer, grabbing Maryann's shoulders as she tried sitting up, and thrusting her flatly on the bed. Her knees dangled over the edge of the bed, her toes just barely touching the floor. Above her, the horrendous hulk of a man loomed larger than life in the eyes of the cringingly uncertain woman as he stared licentiously down at her, his lustful eyes feasting lasciviously in every rounded and swelling curve of her definitely ripe female form. His large hands moved down along her white torso to clasp the firm, rounded flesh of her sloping hips, and she felt herself being dragged forward a little more until her buttocks were at the edge of the bed. Then she became aware of the strong, crude hands on her pillarly thighs, slowly pressuring her lovely loins farther and farther apart with powerful pressure.
Swiftly, before Maryann had time to think or react, preventing her from clamping her thighs together, Farquar fell on his knees on the floor between her lovely knees, rubbing her wide-splayed white thighs with his palms, lowering his head, looking at her face in the valley of cleavage between her rounded, upthrust breasts. He looked like a hungry wolf about to pounce on its victim and devour it with a single swallow. And she was the feast. Before her dazed brain quite realized what was taking place, Scott's voice exploded in her brain, letting her know the horrible truth of what was going to happen.
"Hey, yeah, that away man! Suck that sweet pussy of hers. Come on, let's see how she goes for it!" The chunky man was urging his friend on. The sound of his voice made her twist her head around to see where he was, but before she was able to locate him somewhere behind the hulking form of Drew Farquar, she found herself suddenly quivering and shaking in an uncontrollable spasm of thrills as she felt the man's hotly clinging lips clamp on the palpitating mound at the base of her belly.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh myyyyyyyyyy Godddddddddddd!" she gasped. "N-o-o-o-o-o ... not that ... not that...." she whimpered, realized the same disgusting thing was now happening to her that had happened to Trish Farquar. She wriggled, whimpering as Trish's husband planted wetly teasing kisses on the ragged flanges of her inner pussylips, his tongue flicking lash-like at the tiny coral vaginal opening.
Jamming her elbows into the mattress, she raised her head and watched, no longer disgusted, but feeling a mounting excitement as the head of dark, curly hair rocked between her legs, the bushy mustache tickling her. She stared, unable to see his face but for his forehead as it buried itself between her thighs, his tongue sinking into the heatedly wet depths of her contracting vagina increasing the thrills her body was already feeling to the thousandth power. She found herself uncontrollably writhing and squiggling in uncontrollable little circular movements as if trying to feel more of the delicious sensation, but Drew Farquar knew what he was doing and purposely held back, taunting her with the tip of his tongue, letting it stab against the tiny pink node of her vellicating clitoris, causing it to stiffen and become even more erect.
Without realizing what she was doing, Maryann moved her own hands sensuously along the roundness of her pulsating breasts and nipples, then sliding down to her ribcage, and finally to the smooth plane of her stomach until her fingers were digging into her groin on either side of Drew Farquar's kissing lips. For a moment the tips of her fingers stroked at the tender hollows of her flexing inner thighs, then unable to bear this cruel teasing of her tender cunt, she moved her fingers and slowly spread the wetly squirming furrow farther and farther apart, allowing his hot, ravenous lips and working tongue total access to the smoothly glistening center of her lust-soaked vagina.
Quivering expectantly with inner convulsions, Maryann pressed her elbows tightly into her ribs to try and still herself, but found herself jerking uncontrollably as Farquar's attacking tongue once again snaked out, using its stiffened tip to circle the shivering nerve of her completely exposed clitoris. Abruptly, without any kind of warning, the breath poured out of her heaving body in a tremendous gasp as she felt his lips begin to suck, drawing the soft folds of her wet vaginal slit deep into the heated cavern of his hungering mouth. His wickedly working tongue continued to strain maddeningly against the extended bud of her shuddering clitoris. The sensations were almost more than the pretty investigator was able to bear, and she groaned throatily as the probing tip worked its way up and down the entire length of the soddenly narrow coral cuntal division, starting in the depths of her sparsely covered venereal mount and then lightly skimming its way down through the tight-rimmed slash of her excitedly clenching pussy and into the tightly squeezing crevice of her spasmodically gyrating buttocks.
Grinning wickedly to himself. Drew Farquar felt lustful glee as he delicately flicked the mere tip of his working tongue into the little puckered hole of her sensitive anus nestled as it was just below the opening of her pouting pussy.
My God! My God! she thought. He's even more perverted than the other one, licking me down there of all places. Not even Andy Scott was this sick.
Aloud, she gasped, "Ggggguuuunnnngggghhhh ... hhhaaannnnhhhh!" and continued rotating her buttocks as Drew Farquar kept on stabbing the tight ring of her anus with his tongue, causing wave after wave of fleshy goose bumps to ripple across her heaving breasts and quivering tummy. He stabbed again and again, using his tongue like a poniard, stabbing the wetly searing intrusion into her sensitive rubbery opening, and against her will she heard herself mewling softly with waves of thrilling pleasure as the aphrodisiac continued to burn through her system. Her hips ground frantically as her buttocks pressed against the edge of the mattress as new, unfamiliar sensations went charging through her body.
Farquar was hungrily working with his mouth, delighting in the thrilling sensations he was sizzling through the curly pubic hairs of her cunt as they grazed his cheeks while his mustache continued tickling the lips of her vagina. Viscous, oily secretions splashed into his face repeatedly as her boiling cunt spurted the oil out again and again. A feeling of total, wanton power was rising in the man as he pressed his nose deeper and deeper into the pungent depths of her fire-flashing vaginal tunnel. It had been a really long time since he had been able to enjoy meat this young, and he intended making the most of it. Christ! She really smelled good. He was glad to know he was still capable of seducing something as gorgeous and delightful as this female into complete and total sensual abandon by what he considered the mast refined of means. There was nothing crude or rough or revolting about the way he was eating this female. All he used was the softly skillful teasing of his lengthy tongue. Before long he would have this luscious, tasty morsel completely writhing, squirming, and begging him for mercy, and that would prove once and for all that he still had it.
Her moans and groans were driving his tongue to move even faster as it worked its slick way up and down the shuddering, upraised crevice of her seething vagina. The man wanted this strange woman to plead for a cock, and from the way she was moaning and groaning, she was almost there. It was obvious this wasn't your ordinary run-of-themill tramp. From her earlier resistance he had gotten the impression she would be a total prude, and for awhile it looked that way, which meant it was possible she had tailed Andy Scott into the bar for some reason-or-other. Her present reactions seemed to indicate she was a very sensual waman, and it had been Drew Farquar's experience that only women who have been soundly and roundly fucked are sensuous. Therefor it seemed impossible this woman was any kind of puritan. Drew Farquar knew less about women than he thought, and it was a lucky thing for Maryann, because he would have strangled her in an instant had he believed she'd overheard what he and Andy Scott had been talking about.
Hell! He had never seen a woman get so hot so quickly, even with the aphrodisiac helping her along. This sexy little bitch would soon be wanting everything, and he intended seeing to it she got everything she wanted. He was well aware her body had her so aroused she was in no condition to fight or resist him, and crazy random thoughts of all the different things he wanted to do to this sweet bitch flashed through his mind.
He thrilled to the touch of her fingers now desperately clawing at his curly hair, and he chuckled with licentious delight as she guided his face solidly against the palpitating opening of her dripping pussy. Just to made her suffer a little, he ran his tongue into her heatedly clasping depths for only a second, and then tugged it out once more to tease at the wide-stretched pink edges.
Farquar was becoming overly excited by this thrilling sense of total domination. Usually, when he screwed some woman other than his wife, he was careful and didn't try to be too overpowering because it was always possible she'd kick him out of bed at the wrong moment. With this little cunt it was an entirely different story. He didn't have to worry about offending her, and he enjoyed the complete control he had over her. He also knew he wouldn't be able to keep himself under control much longer. With a loud grunting groan of what sounded like surrender he finally permitted Maryann to force his face firmly against her tight little pussy as she crushed his cheeks with her flexing thighs. His sucking lips surrounded the pulsating little opening inside her inner lips and he sank his tongue all the way into it, bringing a low, husky groan from the lovely woman whose supple loins now closed in convulsive tightness around his trembling head. The moist flesh of her inner cave encased his probing, inthrust tongue, tightly clamping around it with a greedy nibbling motion as though trying to tug him deeper and deeper into her.
Maryann's body felt as if it were being struck by bolt after flashing bolt of sizzling lightning. Her thighs began tightening their hold around Farquar's intruding head, her heels drumming an insane tattoo against his back, and all the while his lips and tongue continued working with intensifying power and speed at her widely spread vaginal gap. Her hips continued jerking forward involuntarily as the man continued burying the full length of his searing tongue into her pussy up to the root, again and again. Every stretched muscle in her straining body was taut as it bounced upward from the edge of the mattress toward that incredible tongue moving between her lush thighs. Drug-contorted pictures filled her mind, and she thought, for a brief moment, that Ralph Stanley was the one doing this to her, and for that time she willingly surrendered herself to what was happening to her. Her ears heard, with pleasure, the loud sucking noised the man made as he ate her slavering cunt. Then she came to her senses and realized who it was who was eating her, tickling her sensitive flesh with his mustache, and for a brief instant in time she wondered how she would, in all non-hypocrisy, be able to refuse Ralph Stanley should he ever make sexual overtures to her again.
After all, the man did have some true feeling for her, and that was more than either of these two men had, yet for some reason she was unable to fathom, not realizing what the drink had done to her, she was becoming aroused by these men. Was it possible that deep down she had the instincts of a whore? How would she be able to look at herself in the mirror again, what with the way she was lying half on and half off the bed, her thighs wide open, and this grotesque man kneeling on the floor between her legs, dipping his tongue into her again and again. She tried to chastise herself, but her passion was building at a much faster rate than she was able to control it, and any thought of the consequences of what she was doing was totally overwhelmed by the delicious darts of pleasure continually piercing her flesh like tiny stabbing pins that had been heated white-hot, first. Her updrawn thighs began opening and closing around the head that was tormenting her as his tongue kept on gluttonously lapping at the wide-open welt of her vaginal entrance. Tendons in her thighs and neck were strained as she struggled to desperately tug the man's head inside her narrow pussy hole.
Through the brilliant haze of her wanton desire, she looked up and was able to distinguish the face of Andy Scott wearing a wry and cocky smile as he widely grinned down at her, and she shut her eyes tightly as swirls of throbbing sensation turned her trembling body into a mass of writhing pleasure that continued building even higher. Nothing mattered now but the tiny licking sparks of delicious fire that were shooting heatedly through her trembling loins.
Then the working of his tongue stopped.
"Oh n-o-o-o-o-o-o...." she heard a voice wail, and she realized with a certain abruptness it was she who was sounding off. He had stopped just as she was prepared to explode with a soul-rending orgasm. Her eyes flew open, and she saw the heavier of the two men getting to his feet, being hurried away by an impatient Andy Scott, whose penis was so rigidly rampant one would never have guessed it had been used, earlier.
The beautiful female investigator was so shamelessly aroused she completely ignored the salacious grin on Andy's cherubic face. What she wanted most was to feel that tongue back in her vagina, and without realizing it, held her arms out to Drew Farquar, letting him know how much her body missed what he had been doing to her. She no longer cared how wanton or perverted it seemed. She had been so close to orgasm ... so close....
"Please," she begged, "don't stop now ... not now ... come back...." she whimpered, knowing she would have come in another few seconds if only the man would once again continue his remorseless tonguing of her vagina. That which she had considered so horribly obscene, she now felt as absolutely necessary. Her hot cunt moved in and out like a gnawing mouth, aching to feel his tongue again.
Now Andy Scott was crouching above her, his face directly over hers, and she raised her head so that her eyes were able to look greedily at the thickness of his rigidly heavy penis. It was jutting straight out from his body as he kneeled above her.
Next to her, on the bed, she saw Farquar sitting down, leaning over her too, his face and chin shining with her dripping secretions mingled with his own saliva. The sight of his dripping face reminded her of her own frustration, and her hot cunt began thrusting itself into the air, seeking the hard, lust-bloated tip of the man's rampant penis. At this moment nothing else mattered other than the terrible aching need that required fulfillment. There seemed like such a wide-open void between her thighs and it required filling, right now.
Looking up at the chunky husband of the woman for whom she was working, she didn't even feel guilty about the fact that she was doing with this man what she had been hired to find out he was doing.
What did dismay her was the grin on the man's face. It was as if she was able to read what he intended doing to her. He was grinning down at her with an ecstasy of passion, a look of smug delight, as if he was well aware just how much she needed his cock, and so planned on teasing her the littlest bit before finally giving her what she wanted. Maryann was shoved back farther onto the bed, her thighs still wide open, her breathing in quick excited bursts of machine-gun pantings. Her flat belly quaked and heaved as she rotated her hips wildly trying to capture the bulb-shaped head of his throbbing cock in the trap-like flanges of her wetly throbbing vagina. The heavily breathing Andy Scott took his time, making sure to carefully elude her, and instead, leaned over and allowed his mouth to carefully roam over the white, palpitating mounds of her heaving breasts, causing her rounded buttocks to grind even more impatiently into the softness of the mattress as she gasped.
"Jesus Christ! You are one hot little cunt," he gasped in amazement as he raised his face from the roundness of her lovely breasts. "The guy who ends up with you is gonna be one lucky son of a bitch."
In the midst of her overwhelming passion, Maryann began to first wonder if her own attitudes toward sex might have been wrong. Before she had time to clarify things in her own mind, her thoughts were cut off by Andy Scott's voice, the lust clearly making light blisters in his eyes as he said, "Right now, I'm gonna make sure you're the lucky one. I'm gonna fuck you like you've never been fucked before. Baby, you have the thrill of a lifetime coming."
Maryann was well aware of the man's ability, having recorded it on film. She stiffened under the constant prodding of his lewd words. Their very obscenity began exciting her for reasons she was incapable of understanding. The feeling of guilt was first starting to return to her mind. How in the name of heaven would she ever be able to look herself in the mirror again? The thought terrified her as the idea grew that she was wantonly and willingly giving herself to these two strange would-be murderers.
"I want to see you move that tight little ass of yours," Andy Scott was telling her. "Now you're going to find out the true meaning of the word 'fuck.' "
"Oh no ... no ... please ... Mr...." she froze, realizing she had almost said the man's name. She didn't dare. Even so, she was whimpering in torment because of the passion within her taking such a powerful grip on her. Her guilt was beginning to overwhelm her as the chunky man slowly lowered his body several inches and she was able to feel his white-hot muscular stiffness lying against the full length of her craving, widely stretched womanly wound. The twitching head of his phallus was too low, pressing between her clenching buttocks. After awhile, it began working its way up and down in an arousing motion that caused her to once more wriggle her hips toward it, all doubt draining in a hurry from her mind.
Andy Scott felt the way she had abandoned herself to him. He grinned triumphantly, knowing the woman was totally in his power, now.
"Come on, gorgeous," he said to her. "Take hold of my cock and put it inside you," he ordered, and was rewarded for having waited this long as she gasped and reached between them in total submission. She wrapped her slender fingers around the stiff staff of his burning penis, and then she hesitated for a moment-one last try at trying to once more be the woman she had been.
"Come on, come on," Andy Scott said, impatiently. "Put the cock inside, already."
Trembling, half in terror of herself for surrendering, and half with desire, Maryann drew the steel-solid cock up the narrow canyon of her buttocks to the passion-drenched opening that was her sodden vagina. She used the thick, rubbery head to part the full, pouting lips of her pussy, the searing contact sending further shivers of delighted pleasure raging through her trembling body. She held Andy's penis in place at the entrance to her heated tunnel and placed her free hand on his hairy asscheeks, tugging with all her strength to yank his rigid projectile all the way into her so it might put out the burning fire of need that was flaring out of control in the flaming depths of her quivering belly.
It was all Andy Scott was able to do to keep from simply shoving forward now, impaling the beautiful and squirming young investigator on the full length of his aching cock. Somehow he managed to control himself, smiling obscenely over her lovely face as he strained with all his willpower to tease her just a few moments longer.
Abruptly, the wide, licentious grin splitting his face was wiped away and replaced by a wild, uncontrollable, contorted expression of sheer and total animal lust. He was no longer able to take it, staring down at this exciting, lush-bodied woman who was frantically writhing under him like the bitch in heat she was, with the tip of his almost bursting penis just now beginning to disappear into the pinkness surrounded by her sparse frame of genital hair.
He had to fuck into her right now. He was unable to wait any longer.
He fell forward, crushing her round and vulnerable breasts flatly against the narrowness of her chest as he slammed his hips harshly forward, sending his stream-lined penis far into the hungrily dripping walls of her seething cunt. He fired it into her like a guided missile that nothing in the world would stop. He was irresistible force, itself. His cock seemed to drive into her forever, until suddenly with a loud groan, his testicles slammed their full weight against the upturned globes of her rounded buttocks and his pelvis banged with a bone shattering jolt into hers, their curly hairs intermingling as his hard, masculine stomach swelled by a little too much beer clapped thunderously against the yielding softness of her own belly.
With sudden amazement, Maryann realized she had been able to accept the seemingly huge penis. It had slipped almost easily into her desire-drenched cunt without pain, and she strained forward against the man, trying to get even more of his wonderful rigidity into her insanely contracting vaginal maw. She began to squirm and wriggle her rounded hips from side to side, digging her heels into the bed as she thrilled to the thickness of the impaling penis as it opened her a bit more. Her vagina dilated as her passion continued to mount, and she realized he was big, but not as big as Ralph Stanley, and therefore, not as big as she wished. There were wild cravings in her body created by the aphrodisiac she had swallowed, and considering how skilled the two roughnecks had been in taunting her body, she felt overwhelmed.
Groaning in wild frustration, she spread her thighs even wider to permit the chunky man greater access, but nothing did any good as the lust goaded Andy Scott, totally unaware she was dissatisfied, began plunging the full length of his penis in and out of her sucking cunt, causing tiny gasps of wantonness to come from her as she ached to feel more. His pelvis continually hammered against her upthrust loins with each savage thrust. Then Maryann moaned again, realizing he was driving her toward her satisfaction by the furious hammering of his penis, alone, even if the friction was not quite great enough.
The drugged female investigator began bucking and churning insanely beneath the man, gyrating and twisting her upraised buttocks even more swiftly as she hurried, anxious to feel completion. What she didn't know was, Andy Scott was so overwhelmed by her, in spite of his having had a climax an hour earlier, his plunging cock began to swell and stiffen without warning. Her crazed pelvic bouncing had been too much for him and he was unable to restrain himself.
"HHHHAAAANNNNNNNGGGGGHHHH ... AAAAAARRRRRRGGHHHH!" he gasped, and began firing his white froth into her.
"No! No!" she cried out. "Wait! Wait! Not yet! Don't stop fucking me...." she gasped out, saying the word without thinking.
But it was too late. Andy Scott was shooting wildly into her as, with a soul-searing gasp, he forced his shrinking penis into her and held it there while he finished firing his foam into her. The frantic woman tried slowing his stream by tightening her vaginal muscles, but all this did was make him shoot faster, and in no time she had milked out the last drops of the man's sperm. Finally, with a last squirt, the last droplet of his white semen spurted deep inside her aching vagina.
The chunky man gasped and rolled his limp and drained body from the young woman's straining loins. A thin, spiderweb-like string of sticky fluid trailed from her trembling thigh over the sheets of the bed to the tip of his penis where it lay limp against his thighs as he rested.
Maryann was almost angry, wondering why these men bothered to go this far with her and then leave her unfulfilled. Then a seeming miracle occurred. There was another form now hovering over her-a veritable storm cloud of masculinity. She raised her head and realized she was looking at Drew Farquar. Her eyes focused on the length and breadth of his shuddering penis, growing from his hairy loins like the trunk of an oak tree. Her heart began quivering with fear, realizing the sight of Andy Scott fucking into her defenseless, lust-possessed body had swelled the man's cock to even more monstrous proportions than it had been, before.
The massive penis would probably split her right down the middle.
In an instant all inner desire completely dissolved from her quailing body as she felt a horrible sensation of utter terror at the thought of what the massive cock would do to the narrow interior of her vulnerable cunt.
"Ohhhh ... no!" she whimpered, trembling. "You'll kill me with that thing. You're too big ... you're much too big...." she gasped, her eyes growing wide with terror as stark fear filled her.
The brawny, ape-like husband of Trish Farquar merely stood there, looking down at the woman with mock amusement in his eyes.
"Hey, I'll bet it's bigger'n anything you've ever had before, eh?" Drew Farquar laughed. He was taunting her with a loud chuckle, evidently amused at the thought of what he intended doing to her. "Hey, don't worry, good-looking. It may take a little while, a little pushing and grunting, but your cunt is well-greased with Andy's sperm, so somehow we oughtta get my cock into you. Honey, when we do, you'll first find out what fucking is really all about."
Without further delay, Farquar lowered his bulk across her slender belly, the thick stiffness of his hard cock surging hotly against her trembling belly. He lurched his heavy body downward until the mushroom-shaped, gleaming, crimson head forced apart the wet lips of her sperm-drenched vagina. The woman shut her eyes, trembling with fear as she felt the first thrilling-and terrifying-contact with her still unsatisfied vagina. For what seemed like forever the lovely investigator held her breath, not daring to make a single move that might cause the man to start his motion.
She soon learned that no matter how still she remained, there was no way to avoid the inevitable. It had to happen.
The man slowly began pushing. Maryann gasped as she felt her tenderly soft labia swell and open around the huge penis trying to push into her tight cuntal opening. The elastic-rimmed vaginal tightness resisted for a moment, then finally gave way before the continuing and relentless pressure of Farquar's thrusting hips.
"Aaaaiiiieeeee!" the woman screamed, feeling a strong, harsh pain, her eyes screwing tightly shut as the massive, lust-bloated penile point suddenly slipped through her cruelly and painfully distended vulva, making her feel as if her thighs were about to be torn from her as drumsticks were ripped from a chicken.
Above her, Farquar shoved again, pushing harder, and the tortured woman began to wildly toss her head, moving it swiftly from side to side on the firm mattress as the formidable shaft of flesh and muscle sank another cruel inch into her.
"Huuuuunnnnnngggggghhhhhhhhh!" she gasped. "Ohhhhhhhh no more ... no more ... please ... please ... no more ... you're killing meeeeee...."
The sound of her agonized pleading was like music to Drew Farquar's listening ears. He enjoyed this. The man almost always took a certain sadistic delight in hearing them beg to stop once he started forcing his cock into them. By then it was too late for them to back out. He literally had them by the short and curlies, and a cock like his was capable of bringing the most stubborn bitch to her knees. Hell! After all this time even his wife still had a tough time taking it. As far as he was concerned, no elephant in the world had a cock more mammoth than the one sported between his thighs. He loved stretching their pussies. Only the ones with really elastic flesh ever had their cunts snap fully back to normal. From the tight way this one's vulva gripped, he was certain her cunt would eventually snap back to normal, too, though he intended playing with it a little more before letting her go. He grinned, wearing a smile of triumph as he loomed above the exciting, writhing mass of delicious femininity that was his to do with as he pleased. Taking a deep breath, he flexed his hips forward again.
"Aaaaayyyyyyaaaggghhhhhh ... n-o-o-o-o-o-o ... no morrrreeeee . ... you're hurrrrtttiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnng meeeeeeeeee...." she gasped, her voice strained agony, feeling as if her delicate womanly labia were being stretched so much, they were about to tear and bleed. Her eyes jerked open and she looked straight up at his face, seeing him grin sadistically at her. She felt severe pain, and in shocked fear she realized he was enjoying her pain, savoring it like a gourmet might savor a feast. He was torturing her beyond endurance, and he was enjoying himself. The man was delighting in the spectacle of her suffering under his mercilessly cruel impalement as he continued to enlarge and widen her defenseless passageway.
Her pain-filled eyes stared at him and saw the licentious smile abruptly fade as the man reached down and grabbed her whitely flailing thighs, gripping her behind the knees and shoving them roughly back against her breasts, knocking the breath out of her lungs as he planted his hands on either side of her shoulders so that her ankles were w-edged tightly behind his neck.
Before the drugged female investigator's mind had time to register the sudden terror she was feeling, Farquar, his face a mask of savage lust, slammed forward with every ounce of strength in his hips and thighs, sinking his licentiously swollen penis all the way into her. It surged harshly forward, driving the smoothly wet flesh of her vaginal walls before it in quivering waves, going deeper and deeper until she felt the weight of his heavily swinging testicles smack smartly against her squirming buttocks and anus. She jerked her body deeper into the mattress in a vain attempt to avoid the continually vicious impalement.
"Ohhhhhhhh ... myyyyyyyy ... Goddddddddddddd!" she screamed, her throat raw with hoarseness as she writhed and wriggled compulsively in sheer, blinding, inescapable pain. Her impaled torso was pinioned helplessly against the barely yielding surface of the firm mattress, her buttocks making the deepest indentation. Farquar's outstretched arms pinned her shoulders and the muscular weight of his powerful body was crushing her knees back against her swollen breasts, making them look like blobs of white pudding against her body. Maryann felt as if her swollen cunt had been torn into a trillion shards of flesh, as though his heavy penis was about to push its way through her belly into her throat, and out her mouth as the thick rubbery head pressed into the deepest part of her aching cunt. She felt every vein and ridge on the heated iron of solid muscle and flesh as it so completely and thoroughly filled and stretched the vulnerable inner recesses of her shuddering cunt, twitching and throbbing inside her until she was finally convinced it was incapable of jerking hard enough to tear right through the tortured walls of her recess.
Drew Farquar felt confident she had never been so utterly and completely filled in her life, and he gloated to himself as he lay still for a moment, keeping her completely pinned in her shameful and humiliating position. A licentious grin caused his mouth to split open as he stared down at her. The face of this beautiful broad who had walked into the bar was twisted with agonized pain because of his brutal thrusting into her. She kept her trembling body absolutely still, as if terrified the slightest movement on her part would once again fill her with unimaginable agony. Her palms were pressing against his hips, clearly trying to hold him back from once again driving his thick, blunt instrument any deeper into her widely stretched cunnus.
Drew Farquar lifted himself a little and looked down between their bodies to where his Brillo-like pelvic hairs were tightly entangled with the soft, sparse moss covering her vaginal mound. The thick stump of his weighty cock was barely visible sticking out of the moist, pink furrow he had tongued into fiery receptiveness before Andy Scott had fucked it. Scott was staring too as he lay next to Maryann, breathing heavily, letting his strength slowly flow back into him. Farquar felt a certain amount of pride knowing how jealous Andy Scott must feel because his own cock was incapable of reaching all the way inside, stretching the ragged coral lips of the woman beyond endurance. Yeah! This was the way to fuck.
Maryann wriggled helplessly, feeling miserable as she lay beneath the man, tearing pain now slowly beginning to lessen just the littlest bit as her distended inner cavern slowly accustomed itself to the massively intruding penis. She flexed her rounded buttocks in a renewed, but once again futile attempt to dislodge the invading member, the clenching of her belly muscles appearing to arouse and excite Farquar even more because he continued to plunge his throbbing cock even deeper into her vainly struggling and resisting passage.
Then, despite the continuing onslaught of pain and agony, the needs of her body began to assert themselves again, demanding the fulfillment it had so long been denied. The hard, fist-like ball of his penis's point was pressed firmly against the side of her cervical tube, letting her sense every heatedly wet fold of flesh along its length. The tickling hairs of his heavy balls, dangling in her anal crevice made her writhe and wriggle as she smelled the strongly pungent odor of Andy Scott's sperm where it was trickling out of her stuffed pussy, drying along her inner thighs as well as on her asscheeks. Then all these sensations seemed to roll themselves together in one huge feeling as a great mass of fiery need invaded her, and her vagina began contracting involuntarily as new, lascivious thoughts began flashing across her brain. It was as if the pain had been suddenly and miraculously transformed into only an infinitesimal part of some far greater enjoyment her body had been seeking since the dawn of creation.
Drew Farquar pressed his bulky body against hers and covered her mouth with his own searching lips, slithering his greedy tongue deep into her throat, stifling the low groans of commingled plea sure and pain forming in her heaving chest. The man's thick, burly shoulders pushed against the backs of her rounded calves, and he kept her locked in that position as he began plunging a series of lengthy spearing strokes into her wildly reawakening loins. The delicately moist walls of her burning cunt began to tightly cling around the length of his thick, fleshy stake, hungrily devouring it, her hips lifting upward to swallow the entire length of the man's stocky, licentiously stiffened cock. His huge balls flailed against her sperm-soaked anal crevice, making the sensitive area tingle and contract as she responded with a slow, rhythmic undulation of her own to meet the hulking man's long and skewering strokes.
Reaching down, Farquar insinuated his hands between the bed and her full, white, rounded asscheeks, cupping the lush orbs in his spread fingers and palms, tugging them far apart as he kneaded them. The moons of her lush asscheeks were flexing and unflexing. They responded licentiously to the wantonly lustful manipulations of the man's working fingers. He jerked them harder to his loins and gloated in triumph as he felt her pulling her thighs farther back toward her belly, allowing the wetly slippery hold of her vagina to flower open and swallow up his thrusting staff to even greater depths.
The pain had disappeared almost completely now. What little there was left seemed to no longer make any difference. The other feelings, those of lust and desire, were so much stronger. Maryann's tongue worked itself deeper into the hollow of Farquar's mouth as small mewling sounds of wanton thrills began seeping from her chest into her throat, and from there into the man's gobbling mouth. She tasted the essence of her own vagina as she licked his tongue and lapped his palate. Her leg muscles quivered in totally uncontrolled abandon, and the rigid tendons in her neck began to stand out hard and taut as she wriggled and squirmed in total surrender, feeling a thrillingly salacious delight in her lascivious submission. There was nothing left in her pleasure-illumined mind but the delicious sensation of lying here under this brawny man, this sweating hulk, who was powerfully fucking her hot cunt into a complete oblivion of thrillingly depraved sensuality.
Farquar thrilled to the wetly flat smacking sound each time his heavy belly sweatily clapped against the flatness of her stomach as the complete pulsating length of his thickly aroused penis sank completely into the greedy rictus of her sucking cunt. Suddenly he withdrew his deeply embedded cock farther and farther, until only the very tip of the arrow-like head rested tauntingly inside her. Then, with a hard, strong forward plunge, he slammed the full length back into her, using all his strength to draw even more groans from the woman now deranged with lust. He started a continuing series of long, hard strokes into the narrow container that was her hotly steaming cunnus, slamming his weighty testicles solidly against her prune-like anus between the wide-split valley of her lush buttocks each time he pounded forward.
The drug-incited Maryann grunted and gasped incoherently beneath the panting man as the clinging moistness of her inner sheath tightly clung to the thrillingly lancing solidity of the man's cock as the heated shaft raced in and out again and again, lubricating it with more and more of her cuntal oils. The powerful man continued driving his clenching loins against her, and Maryann strained against him, striving for the ultimate peak in sensation.
Abruptly, Maryann became aware through the haze of her mounting passion of continuous movement to the side of her. She turned her head and saw Andy Scott on his knees nearby, his penis half-hard, held in one hand while his other hand was tugging on her chin, trying to pull her mouth open.
"C'mon, baby," he said to her. "You proved you can fuck. Now let's see how well you can suck."
She clamped her lips together, determined not to do any such thing, but the man was not to be denied. He pushed harder and harder against her lovely face, the pressure of his penis against her closed lips making the organ stiffen even more. She already felt drops of semen coating her lips. Scott dug his fingers into her cheeks, pressing on the hinges of her jaw, feeling her lips parting little by little until, very abruptly, with an especially hard lunge from the merciless cock fucking into her cunt, she gasped, opening her mouth, and Andy Scott's thick penis pushed through her startled lips into the softly wet center of her sucking mouth.
The wildly excited Scott clamped her cheeks vise-like between his sweating palms, and he immediately began driving his cock in and out of her mouth like a riveting machine. His lust-swollen balls slapped harshly against Maryann's cheek and chin, the soft hairs covering his wrinkled sac tickling her face like a thousand feathers. It was a struggle simply to breathe, and the twice-impaled woman only managed to catch small gasps of air each time the two penises simultaneously withdrew from her heated sheath and mouth on the outstroke.
She was being debased as never before, yet the aphrodisiac in her bloodstream was stronger than ever, and instead of despising what she was doing, Maryann suddenly realized how much she was enjoying it. She sucked and pulled and even chewed on the stiff organ in her mouth, unable to understand why she was so willingly sucking. It was one thing to let the man fuck her mouth. It was something else entirely to actually suck his penis. Was she a masochist? No! No! Masochists loved pain and there was no pain involved in this.
Drew Farquar knew he was unable to hold back his sperm much longer. The woman was theirs, completely theirs, and she knew it.
The saliva in Maryann's mouth was becoming thick from the lubricating fluids seeping from the end of Andy Scott's cock. The man's hips were writhing and wriggling as if he was being electrocuted. The electricity seemed to pass from Scott to her and she felt her body building to an orgasm like an electric wire being overloaded and about to melt. She strained for the orgasmic release her body so badly needed, and then Drew Farquar was bellowing, "AAAAARRRRRRRGGGGHHHHHHH ... AAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH ... UUUUUUNNNNNHHHHHHHHHHH ... UUUUUUNNNNNUUUNNGGGHHHHH!" He was firing into the depths of her vagina, but Maryann had reached the point of no return. She twisted her loins tightly against the still-squirting penis in her seething cunt, and suddenly every muscle in her body tensed, quivering, and then snapping like a taut violin string that had suddenly broken.
"UUUUUURRRRRGGGG GLLLLLLLMMMMMMMPHHHHHHH HAAAAAAA WWWWWWWWGGGGGG GGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHLLLLLLLM MMMMPHHHHHHH!" she gasped, her mouth crammed full of Andy Scott's cock as her orgasm charged thrugh her with inundating waves of pleasure and delight. Hot rivulets of semen seeped from hr cunt and ran down her thighs as she continued pumping up and down, her squeezing cunt milking every last drop from Drew Farquar's cock. Her mouth pulled even more strongly on Andy Scott's penis, and then he was screaming, "EEEEEYYYYYAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHH ... THATTTAWAYYYYYYYYYYYYY BABBBBBY...." and began shooting what few drops of sperm he had left down her throat. Without realizing it, Maryann sucked, as she did so, she thought about what a foolish woman she had been all this time, to have denied herself Ralph Stanley. To think she might have been doing so many things with him.
Finally their orgasms ended. The two men lay on the bed on either side of Maryann until they had rested awhile. Then they rose, and began putting on their clothing.
CHAPTER THREE
"We want you to be our guest, overnight," Drew Farquar said to Maryann. "In fact, we're going to keep you here until Saturday morning."
"Why?" Maryann asked.
"As long as you don't know why, you'll be okay. We're taking your clothes to make sure you stay here. See you later, honey. Next time we'll bring Charley up here. We'll make it a threesome."
They left, and Maryann felt dread. She had to get out, somehow.
Running to the closets, she opened them and found them bare. The only other furniture in the room aside from the bed was the night table. Opening it, she found some assorted nickels and dimes totally forty-five cents, and nothing more. The windows, she soon discovered, were locked. The door was not locked because she was naked, and they figured she wouldn't be dumb enough to try and walk nakedly out of the place through the bar.
Going to the drawer, she scooped out the change and hurried to the door. She stopped, went to the bed, picked up the spread and wrapped it around her. Carefully opening the door, she peered into the hallway. It was empty. Apparently Charley, the owner and bartender, lived above the restaurant. Her bare feet padded silently on the wooden floor as she stepped into the hallway and began approaching the stairs. She had remembered something. With the bedspread wrapped around her, she neared the bottom of the stairs. There, across from the foot of the stairs, were the men's room and ladies' room, two tiny cubicles that smelled terrible even with the doors closed. Between them, on the wall, was a pay phone. To her right, the door leading to the bar was closed.
Walking to the phone, feeling the dampness of the wooden floors under her bare feet, she picked up the receiver and deposited a dime. The dial tone told her the phone worked. She dialed Ralph Stanley's home number. There was no answer. Then she dialed the office number. The office recorder went on with Stanley's smooth voice telling everyone he wasn't in, and at the tone to please leave a message. Then there was a beep.
"Ralph," she said, "this is Maryann. I'm a prisoner in Marona's Restaurant, upstairs, on Pacific Avenue in the village of Breevoort. Andy Scott is planning to have his wife murdered by Drew Farquar tomorrow night, and then on Sunday Scott is supposed to rub out Farquar's wife in exchange. Both men are intent on collecting insurance. For the love of God hurry and get me out of here."
Hanging up, she went to the door and peered into the bar. Neither Scott nor Farquar were there, but one look at Charley and she knew there was no chance of slipping by him. He was talking to two other hulking bruisers, one of whom was the bar bouncer.
Sighing, she turned around, went upstairs, and waited.
Time passed very slowly. It got dark out, and she was able to see people walking in and out of both, the restaurant and bar. If Ralph Stanley didn't return to the office that night, she would be stuck here until tomorrow, at least.
Finally people stopped coming in and a few stragglers left. The outside lights were turned off, and she heard feet coming up the stairs. They walked past the room she was in, so she realized there had to be another bedroom. When she tried her door, she found it had been locked from the outside. She was stuck here for the night. Going to the bed, she lay down, and soon managed to fall asleep.
CHAPTER FOUR
It couldn't have been much past dawn when she was awakened by both Andy Scott and Drew Farquar. They were smiling down at her, touching her body lightly when she opened her eyes, and she suggested she be permitted to use the bathroom facilities. Farquar nodded and showed her to a bathroom on the top floor. Thank God she didn't have to use the foul-smelling cistern that passed for a bathroom downstairs. She took care of all her needs, including a quick shower, feeling grimy from her foray the night before.
When she emerged from the bathroom, Farquar was waiting for her and ushered her back to the bedroom. There, she found a breakfast waiting for her of an Egg McMuffin and a cup of coffee.
"Why are you two doing this to me?" she asked. "Don't you know this is against the law?"
"Look," Farquar told her. "You look like you're too smart to go squawking to the pigs about what we're doing here. I mean, Andy and I'll deny it, and you won't have anyone to substantiate your story, anyway. You just keep your yap shut-unless it's to do some more sucking-and when we let you out of here, we'll give you five-hundred bucks."
"This isn't my idea of fun," she insisted, finishing her Egg McMuffin.
"Hell don't tell us you didn't enjoy it last night," Scott insisted. "You cried when I came too fast, and you sucked my cock like a real natural. Honey, sex is something you do like you were born to it."
"This'll be the last time we'll bother you," Farquar told her. "You just stay here till tomorrow morning. We spoke to Charley, and he's too busy to join in. He'll send you up a TV set to keep you company, and tomorrow, when you walk outta here, you'll get an envelope from Charley with the five-hundred. Okay?"
"Look," she said to them. "If you men want to keep me a prisoner here for some devious reason, like white slavery, that's your affair."
"Naw," Drew Farquar laughed. "This ain't no slavery racket. Well, maybe we wanna control you a little, but we ain't selling you to any arabs or anything like that. No, we got a good reason for keepin' you here until tomorrow. Hell! I wanted to keep you here over the weekend, but Andy, here, says it ain't necessary."
Maryann realized they wanted her there until Drew had killed Helen Scott. But why wouldn't they keep, her there to make certain she didn't do anything about Trish Farquar's murder? It was obvious Andy Scott had something up his sleeve.
"I'd still rather not become physically involved with you men again," she insisted. "I mean, let's face it. I don't love either of you. To be honest, I don't even mildly like you. Why in heavens' name must I be forced to do ... well, things ... for you."
"Because you're a good-lookin' broad with the tightest cunt in the world," Andy Scott told her, and the two men began quickly undressing.
Maryann shuddered. She wanted nothing more to do with these two men. True, they had opened her eyes to the glories of sex, but she still wanted to do it with someone who meant something to her. She knew that she had no choice but to cooperate with them; but it still went against her grain.
"Y'know," Andy Scott said to his buddy. "I have a yen to try the back door. I mean, her cunt is great, her mouth is fantastic, there's every reason to believe that ass of hers is gonna be really fabulous, as well."
"No!" she shrieked. "The two of you have to be insane to think of doing something like that."
His penis was already stiff and gleaming. A good night's rest had put all the starch back into it. In the early morning light it looked even longer and thicker than it had appeared the previous night.
To have something like that rammed up her rear end would surely destroy her. In fact, it might kill her on the spot. The problem was, just what should she do about it. She was trapped, helpless, the prisoner of these two vile would-be murderers, and they intended raping her.
Maryann never felt more helpless than she did at this particular moment.
"N-No...." she gasped. "No ... don't do that. Please ... please ... not that. That's filthy, disgusting, and totally perverted."
"You gorgeous hunk, we're really going to give you one solid fucking, today. Sandwiching makes both your holes nice and tight, and you'll really be able to feel how good it is to be double-fucked. Ass fucking ain't killed any broads yet," Farquar told her. "Andy, here, wants some of that ass of yours, and I like your pussy so much, I'm going in the front way all over again. We're going to ball us up a storm, right Andy?"
"I have me one stiff erection that says you're right," Andy Scott nodded.
Maryann stared at the now-naked Drew Farquar. His cock like that of his companion, looked even longer and thicker in the morning light. This time there would be no sperm oiling the way for the massive organ. It would tear her wide open in front, while Scott's prick would be ripping her rear-end apart. Ralph Stanley's cock was the only one to equal Farquar's in length and breadth, and that had been when she had been resisting Stanley. How much thicker would the man's be when she enticed him and led him on?
Wetting her lips, Maryann shut her eyes, hoping this was a nightmare from which she would awaken. When she opened her eyes everything was as before. This was real, all right.
"Come on," she gasped, backing up toward the bed. "Don't do this. You know you're both too big. Together, you'll kill me."
Scott had slowly circled behind her, and he sat on the edge of the bed, his rampant penis jutting out, waiting for her to back up a few more steps. His penis seemed as insolent as he.
Drew Farquar stepped toward her, and without meaning to, Maryann backed up those few steps. Suddenly she felt strong hands gripping her around the waist. With easy strength Andy Scott began tugging her backward.
"No! No! No!" she screamed, struggling, twisting, trying to shake free of the man behind her.
"That's not being a nice girl," Scott told her. "Now you be smart and spread those lovely things of yours, and Drew and I'll do all the good stuff."
There was a throbbing in her head as she felt a headache begin to build, but that didn't matter to her. Something more important was taking place behind her, something she didn't want. She struggled, only to have Drew Farquar wrap his two arms around her and hold her still. No matter how she struggled, the man's powerful, ape-like arms crushed, holding her rock-steady. Scott's thick cock was pressing into her ass. It slowly spread her soft asscheeks with contemptuous ease and moved up and down in the crevice in an attempt to find her asshole.
"No-no-no-no-no-no-no-no...." she screeched, kicking her feet as Drew Farquar lifted her a little off the ground to better position her.
"I got her," Andy Scott insisted as she felt the blunt tip of his throbbing prick press against her tender rectal opening.
"Honey, you're going to love it," Farquar assured her.
She trembled. The cock was much too big. It would completely tear her to shreds. She had to keep trying to stop him from fucking her in the ass. It would make her bleed-that she was certain of, and she might even bleed to death as a result.
"Please, oh please," she begged, tears falling from her eyes as she felt her rounded breasts squashed against the heavy chest of Drew Farquar. "Don't do this-don't do this. Your penis is much too big for my rectum."
"Listen to the sweet chickie beg," Drew Farquar laughed, and kissed her mouth to silence her. He used his knees to pry her thighs farther apart, stretching her rear cheeks as well.
Though she continued trying to struggle, it was no use. She was tightly held. She wriggled and struggled, but to no avail as she felt herself being lowered and the tip of Andy Scott's thick cock slowly pushed, widening her sphincter. She squeezed and caught the tip, fighting to keep it from sinking deeper. Her clutch temporarily succeeded in keeping Scott's cock from penetrating any deeper.
"Mebbee it'll be better if I go in first," Drew Farquar said. "Wrap your arms around her body very tightly and grip her to you."
Scott reached around and gripped her two breasts with his hands and squeezed as he lay back on the bed. Maryann, with the opening of her anus impaled on the very tip of his penis, felt her buttocks being pulled back into his belly, but the clutch of her sphincter was so tight, the penis was unable to slip out.
Drew Farquar took his weight off her for a moment, standing in front of her as she lay with her back pressing against Scott's belly, her ass against his lower belly and pelvis, her anus tightly gripping the tip of his cock, and her thighs dangling over the side of the bed, spread wide apart now by Scott's legs. Her vagina was totally open and vulnerable. She stared as Farquar bounced up and down a little, preparing to move in for the kill, his penis bouncing with him. Had it been Ralph Stanley, the sight would have excited her immensely. She realized she liked looking at large penises. Yes, inwardly she was as prurient as all the men she had always called dirty and unthinking animals. The sight of such a massive penis slowly moving forward, destined to be buried to the balls in the seething depths of her burning cunt would have thrilled her to the deepest part of her had it belonged to her partner, whom she realized she truly loved. She would have willingly used her hands to pull her labia wider for Ralph. Not for these terrible men, though. Lord! She had repulsed the man with whom she worked, and had made him feel terrible and almost remorseful. For that she was truly sorry. She would gladly give him her body every night from now to the end of time if there was some way to escape from this pair.
There was no escape. She was about to learn the hard way what it was to be a total prisoner.
"What did I ever do to either of you?" she gasped. "Why are you doing this horrible thing to me?"
"What horrible thing?" Farquar laughed. "Hell, honey, what we're going to do is just about the most terrific thing that ever happened to a girl. You'll see."
"That's right," Andy Scott chimed in. "You don't know how lucky you are. You're about to get one terrific fucking, sweetheart. Now keep those legs spread nice and wide. With me putting pressure on them, it's difficult to get my cock deeper in your ass."
He reached down with one hand while the other continued clutching her breast, and he stroked her vagina. The mere touch of his fingers brushing her clitoris made Maryann shudder.
His fingers slid through the sparse mat of her fibrous pussy fur, and once again lightly teased her extended clitoris. The tiny organ was already erect and poking its head out of its protective hood of tender flesh as if to look around and see what was happening.
It found out in a hurry.
Now one of Scott's fingers pressed solidly against the pink little tower of her aroused clitoris. A shudder rippled through Maryann's body, and she felt her vagina unwillingly growing damp with arousal all over again. For the first time she realized what a completely sexual animal she really was, and she began hating herself for it. She hated responding this way. Why in the name of God had she been so stupid all her life, trying to keep herself protected? So she'd had a bad experience with Joe, her ex-husband. So what? These horrible men were proving to her once and for all that even the worst men were capable of arousing her and bringing her satisfaction.
"Take a good look, Drew," Andy Scott said, using his fingers to pull her labia apart. "Didja ever see a cunt this hot in your entire life? No wonder she came into the bar last night looking for action. This is the kind of cunt that needs constant and total satisfaction."
Maryann wriggled, only to feel the cock in her asshole push in just the littlest bit deeper, making her see stars. The pain was unreal and agonizing. She gasped and tried to pull forward, only to find herself once again encompassed by Farquar's arms. He gripped her upper body tightly to him, and his hairy chest was pressing firmly against her breasts as Andy Scott let go to grip her hips to better adjust the angle of her asshole. The curly hairs on his chest were rubbing against her nipples, building more unwilling desire in her. Her nipples welled and stiffened until she found herself panting with lust, even though she feared all that was happening to her.
"She's a really hot one, all right," Farquar said to his buddy. "She doesn't realize just how hot she really is. She's the kinda broad able to do any and all kinds of fucking. Before you go, honey, I'm gonna want your name and address. My wife's leavin' me pretty soon, and I wanna be your permanent boyfriend. You have the hottest body this side of heaven. After today, you'll be fucking for only one guy, and that'll be me."
"That'll be us," Scott corrected. "You forget, my wife's also leaving me."
Maryann shuddered. They were so callous, joking about the killing of one another's wives as casually as if the whole thing were a dirty joke.
"Come on," Farquar said. "Let's show this sweet piece what a really good team the three of us make."
"That's the right idea," Scott agreed. "Oh man! She has one tight asshole."
The thick penis of Drew Farquar began sliding into the depths of her open cunt, and though she inwardly tried struggling against it, she physically loved the feeling. It even overrode the pain of the tip of Scott's penis in her rectal opening. She spread her thighs wider without realizing it, gasping as the huge meatiness worked its way deeper and deeper into her. She wanted to sag either forward or back, but was unable to do so. She had one cock thrusting all the way into the heated depths of her tight cunt, and the other one was digging into her rectum, trying hard to sink deeper. She felt so humiliated, if it was possible to die of shame, she would have done that, then and there. Anything was better than this cruel humiliation of having two potential murderers fucking her in her two most intimate places.
Sighing with despair, she unwittingly loosened the grip her sphincter had on Scott's cock, and she realized it too late. The thick head pushed past her sphincter, into her rectum, and though she tried squeezing shut, the pole was part of the way inside. In the position she was in, gravity was forcing her lower and lower, and she sank slowly onto the solid mass of penis as it worked its way further into her rectum. It sucked its way deeper and deeper into her asshole, and she screeched as agony tore through her. The penis in her vagina had made her rectum even more narrow, and if it had seemed impossible to fit a penis into her body when there was nothing in her cunt, now, with Drew Farquar buried to the hilt in her pussy, her asshole felt thinner than the hollow opening in a porcupine quill. Pain ripped through her and she struggled, kicking her legs out, toad-like, unable to stop struggling as she realized the pressure of the penis in her rectum also tightened her vagina. There ought to have been even more pain, but the narrowing of her wet vaginal tunnel merely served to enhance the thrills she was feeling in there, and they were so great, they matched the agony caused by the phallus in her rectum-now pushing into her colon as the last little bit of cock slid down the "dirt road." She came close to passing out the agony was so great. Only the thrill of the penis in her vagina kept her from being comatose. Lord! She wanted to faint, but the inner tenacity which had kept her hanging on this long now kept her going the littlest bit longer. Imagine, fainting. She had always thought it such a silly thing when novel heroines did that.
Maryann knew better now than to think fainting was unreal. The feel of that heavy cock pushing avidly in and out of her rectum was powerful enough to make a dozen woman black out.
For some reason she felt more obscenely aroused with each passing moment, and in her mind she tried picturing what all this must look like in profile. The bodies of the two men, though a little heavy, were gleaming with perspiration and looking like two major Greek gods-perhaps Poseidon and Hades. Both men were superbly muscled, though the man on top of her was obviously the stronger of the two. She had wondered what a confrontation between the two would look like, now she knew Drew Farquar would probably destroy Andy Scott, whose cock continued to dig into her rectum. Both men were tanned and contrasted strongly to the milk-whiteness of her flesh.
Andy Scott was still sitting on the bed, actually lying back. His prick was vanishing between the snowy whiteness of her rectal cheeks while his hands gripped her hips to pull her solidly into his forward-thrusting crotch. The entire length of his cock had completely disappeared into the depths of her rectum and colon. All of it was locked inside her rear chute.
Had this happened to some other woman whom she might have been observing through a camera, she would have considered it depraved and obscene, wondering what kind of feeling would be charging through a woman at a time like this. Since it was happening to her, she knew. The man behind her was fucking her lovely butt with such power, her teeth were rattling in her head. This was one aspect of sex she didn't like. The heated organ was searing its way the entire distance into the depths of her bowels.
Her anal canal clung tightly to the organ, and she knew Andy Scott was a man who came quickly. He had come in her body twice the previous day, and that after having jazzed Trish Farquar, first. He was not able to control his sperm. Hell! No man was capable of fucking into a hole as tight as her clutching rectum without giving her a heated enema of white semen.
"God! God! God!" Andy Scott gasped. "Honey, you have one tight asshole. I'm giving it my own personal stamp of definite approval," he whispered heatedly into her ear.
At this point Maryann barely heard what the man had said. Blood was hammering in her arteries, thudding in her ears, drowning out any and all sounds. A mixture of rapture and agony continued to torment her body, and from force of habit she verbally pleaded they stop. The penis in her vagina continued imparting overpowering thrills, and though the one in her asshole really no longer caused physical anguish, her mind imagined there was pain back there.
"Don't do it!" she kept begging. "I've never done any harm to either one of you. Please ... please ... stop hurting me...."
The two men laughed out loud, and Drew Farquar asked, "What do you mean by saying you've never done anything to either of us? Hell, honey, the moment you walked into that bar you did something to us. You made the two of us horny. Baby, what's happening to you is all on your head. The moment my buddy and I saw you we all but lost control of ourselves. Then we saw you naked, and after the great balling last night, we knew we had to come back for more. Even after we let you go, we'll be back for more and more and more."
The two men were fucking into her tight little tunnels at random, unevenly. It was one thing for them to fuck her in tandem, one going in and the other coming out. However, when both of them were powering into her at the same time, she was bloated and filled to overflowing with the thicknesses of their cocks. She screamed, and this time she did black out for a brief few seconds.
All too soon she came to her senses, and she realized that as they continued fucking her, the two men were discussing what to do to her.
"We have to time our thrusts," Farquar was saying. "Me in while you're out, and you in while I'm out."
"In-out, in-out," Scott nodded.
"Right. You got the picture. Let's start together. I'm in, so you slide out, then when you slide in, I'll slide out."
Farquar's massive cock filled the narrow depths of her squeezing cunt. She grunted, but for all its thickness, and in spite of the fact that her tunnel had been narrowed, it was still easy for her to take the huge organ in the heated depths of her aching cunt. The oily fluids building up in her were beginning to ooze so heavily through her vaginal canal, they were dripping out of her, sliding around the broad plug of his heavy cock, making his continued thrusting into her front tunnel very smooth. If the man fucked her there all day long, she'd be able to enjoy it.
With the cock in her ass, it was another story. Though there was almost no pain at all back there, she was completely unused to being filled in that region, and it still felt uncomfortable, at best. She wanted that cock out of her.
They were humiliating her. She realized they weren't really doing any physical damage to her body, but they were making her mentally malleable.
"You in, me out," Farquar cried, and his penis slid back as that of Andy Scott plundered forward to fill her rectum. Her vagina was actually crying out to be filled with the withdrawing cock, while her rectum was rebelling at the one plugging into it. She felt as if her internal organs were being completely rearranged each time the two men shifted, changing position, and all she was able to do was sit there in an upright position, incapable of leaning back or forth.
The back and forth motion in her body was enough to make Maryann feel drunk. The residue of the aphrodisiac she had swallowed the previous day was still working in her, and would, in fact, take a long time to totally dissipate. When she felt Andy Scott's long, thick cock spreading her asscheeks, rubbing through the tight ring of her sphincter as it surged into her rectum and large intestine, she wondered if she really hated it, or if it was possible she might be learning to like it.
In and out, in and out, she felt as if she were on a teeter-totter, and that the two penises in her body were actually two parts of a long penis that was being sawed in and out. Sooner or later she expected the friction would cut her in two. The two men were building more and more wanton fires in her, and Maryann realized the pair of them were push-pulling her to an orgasm. It was slowly building up inside her, and not just in her vagina, either. It was spreading so that it swelled through her rectum, as well.
The two men continued fucking her like this for what seemed like forever. She felt more raging fires inside her, as the thrilling friction against the walls of her seething cunt and against the tender membranes in her narrow rectum were ominously burning, but burning with mounting lust. She was on fire with desire, unable to control herself, as she bounced back and forth, now willingly moving her own body, feeling the thrills continually mounting. She knew when this was over her rectum would be sore for quite awhile, but it was worth it to discover this new sexual experience. Maryann knew that a penis in her rectum without one in her vagina at the same time would give her an ultimate back-door thrill. She was starting to smoulder, and it soon became evident her body was waiting for the right pressure to trigger her monumental dual orgasm.
Drew Farquar leaned forward and continued scrubbing his hairy chest against the nipples of her breasts. They swelled and budded, and soon she knew this was going to be it. She was going to come. It was crazy, but with a penis in her ass she was going to hit the peak of orgasmic delight.
"AAAAAIIIIIEEEE ... YYYYYYAAAAAA GGGGGGHHHH ... AAAARRRGGHHH...." she bellowed, coming hot, hard, and heavy. Her entire fragile body began shaking as if she were trapped by a giant animal that was causing her internal organs to quake and quiver. She was unable to control her body any longer.
Maryann's rotating hips began shooting back and forth in a vain attempt to stuff the two penises even deeper into the narrow depths of her shuddering body. She reached out and surrounded Drew Farquar with her arms, pulling him against her, trying to lean back at the same time so she'd be able to throw her weight against Scott's body. When that did nothing for her as she continued having one orgasmic peak after another, she cupped her breasts with her own hands, thumbing the nipples, thrilling to the ecstasy as Drew Farquar continued thundering more and more of his stiff cock into the depths of her squeezing cunnus. The feeling of her fingers pressing her nipples, like doorbell buttons, into the marshmallow-like softness of her full breasts set her off on another series of orgasms.
"EEEEYYYAAAAAGGGGGHHHH ... HHHHHHAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHH!" she screamed, coming again and again and again.
"Jesus H. Christ! She's a living machine gun the way she keeps coming," Andy Scott gasped. "Her ass is so tight it feels like a fist gripping my cock and milking it."
She was continually buffeted back and forth between the two men, and even though her orgasms were slowly beginning to dissipate she found there was no way of stopping her body. In spite of having had numerous and uncounted orgasms, she needed more and more and more cock. She needed all the cock she was able to get. It no longer mattered whether the cock was fitting into her cunt or her rectum.
Now she felt a subtle change in the timing of the two men as they continued their wantonly heedless fucking. The both of them were now growing closer and closer to the point where they were no longer able to control themselves. Their bodies were taking complete control of them, turning the fucking into a completely instinctive act.
"Gotta fuck ... gotta fuck ... gotta fuck...." Andy Scott was gasping as his cock continued hammering into the tiny starred hole between the mounds of her fleshy buttocks.
Drew Farquar was panting heavily as huge drops of sweat began running down and pouring off his face, falling on Maryann, washing her perspiration-covered breasts. The combined perspiration of the two of them ran down the length of her breasts to the nipples, and droplets hung there for a moment, tickling her a bit more before finally falling off and splashing onto her belly and thighs. Unable to stop herself, Maryann came again, but was so out of breath, she was unable to scream.
Her cunt and asshole contracted at the same time, and this was all the two men needed. The contractions began to squeeze all the more powerfully on both penises. Suddenly Drew Farquar began exploding. "AAAAAAWWAAAAUUUUUUGGGGRRFvRAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHH!" he bellowed in a wild, frenzy of constant fucking, blasting heated balm into the tortured depths of her anxious vagina.
"Jesus!" Andy Scott gasped, "I can feel the pressure of your cock like it was rubbing through her guts. It's rubbing against my own fucking cock. I'm gonna come."
"Go to it, man! Fuck her, harder! I can feel you too," Farquar admitted.
"HHHHAAAARRRRGGGGHH HHUUUNNNNNNGG GGGGHHHHHH AAAGGGHHH!" Scott screamed, and he fired a charging blast of white sperm into her rectum, so that between the two of them, Maryann was filled to overflowing with human sperm. It poured out of her cunt and ran out of her ass as the two softened penises continued trying to push their way into her.
Maryann was trapped as the filling in an erotic sandwich between the two burly men as their cocks spurted the last little bit of hot fluid into her. She felt the liquid surge into her intestines and bubble around in there before sliding down to drip out and coat her asscheeks as it ran down the insides of her thighs. The fluid falling from her cunt also ran down her thighs and fell onto Andy Scott's thighs.
Maryann abandoned herself to the thrilling sensations she thought were ripping her apart. If she was going to die from this she had to admit there was no more pleasant way to go. Her cunt and her rectum were completely stretched out of shape, but at the moment neither hurt.
One more orgasm overcame her, and it was the last thing she remembered as the two shrunken penises finally pulled out of her rectum.
The two men were knocked out, but they both had their work to go to. They left Maryann on the bed in a puddle of sperm, and they wearily got dressed.
"Man, she is one great cunt," Andy Scott said. "Hey, what really made you pick on her, anyway?"
"I dunno," Farquar admitted. "I saw her walk into the restaurant just after you walked into the bar, and then when I walked into the bar, there she was. Hell! She seems all right. Good thing, too. I'd hate to have to snuff something as gorgeous as her."
"I know watcha mean," Scott agreed as they left the room and locked the door behind them.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Ralph, for the eleventh time, I swear, they forced me," she told him as they sat in the outer room of their office, he at his desk, she at hers.
It had been more than six weeks since Ralph Stanley, with the police, had broken into Marona's Restaurant and had found his naked partner asleep on a bed in a pool of drying semen. During all that time he had not spoken of the incident to her, and when he finally broke down and spoke after she demanded he tell her what was making him so angry, he finally admitted his jealousy.
"Here you make me promise not to lay hands on you," he had said, "and then you go and screw for the first two gorillas you run across."
Again and again Maryann had explained what had happened, and again and again Ralph acted as if he didn't believe her. Not once in all that time had he tried to put hands on her, and now she was the one who was angry.
"What's the matter?" she asked. "Am I too soiled for the big investigator to want to love, anymore?"
"Who the hell d'you think you're kidding?" he asked. "You remember what you promised the next time I tried touching you. Well the goddamn truth of the matter is, I'm still crazy about you. Sure I'd love to love you, but this time I want you a hundred percent willing. You don't have to get me for it, but I just want to make sure you won't walk out on me if I make advances again. Remember, the next time I make any advances, I'll be doing it stone-cold sober."
They were interrupted by a knock at the frosted glass door.
"Come in, door's unlocked," Ralph called out.
The door opened, and Helen Scott walked in, but it was an entirely different Helen Scott. She was all decked out in furs with a string of pearls around her neck accentuating the blackness of her dress. Her hair looked as if Vidal Sassoon himself had done it, and the mousy look was completely gone. She hadn't had any plastic surgery, but it was obvious a lot of changes had taken place.
Walking over to Ralph Stanley's desk, she opened her purse, took out a large packet of twenty-dollar bills, and dropped it in front of him.
"There are one-hundred bills there, twenty-thousand dollars," she told him. "Thanks to you, I'm an independently wealthy woman today."
"Thanks to me?" Ralph asked. "All I did was inform the police that the guy Drew Farquar was going to try and kill you that night."
"Well he tried," Helen told Ralph and Maryann. "The police were waiting for him, and he was gunned down without a chance when he tried to fire on the police after they warned him to surrender."
"Couldn't happen to a nicer guy," Ralph smirked at Maryann, letting her know what happened to the man who had raped her.
"I agree," Helen nodded, "Though it did happen to an equally 'nice' guy, only yesterday."
"What are you talking about?" Ralph asked.
"My husband and I had insurance policies naming one another as beneficiaries. Our policies were for two-hundred-thousand dollars, with the standard double indemnity clauses, however, because of Drew Farquar, I cancelled my policy. Because I cancelled my policy, Andy asked for a divorce. I gave him one providing he would not cancel his policy, and providing he made out a will leaving me all his money in case he died.
"Well, I went to Alabama, got a quickie divorce, and Andy went and married the widow of Drew Farquar. Seems she had an insurance policy, too. Not only that, but she had collected on her husband's policy. The double indemnity clause gave her a half million dollars. She changed her insurance beneficiary to Andy, and two weeks ago, she met with an accident. She was hit by a train. Well all the reports claim it was an accident. So Andy inherited the half-million left to her from her husband's insurance policy, as well as another half-million from her policy.
"Yesterday, while Andy was working on a car, it fell on him, crushing him immediately. So I receive the million he got from his deceased wife, plus two-hundred thousand from his insurance policy, plus another two-hundred thousand because of the double indemnity clause. All this because of the fine work you did."
"Yes, well I don't want to take all the credit," Ralph Stanley said to her. "My partner, Mrs. Dennison was the one who really discovered your husband's intentions."
"Then you're the one I have to thank," Helen Scott said, smiling. "Make certain he splits that money with you, fifty-fifty. In any case, I came here to let the two of you know the outcome of everything.
Mrs. Dennison, let me give you a word of advice. If you're still married to Mr. Dennison, make sure he has a large insurance policy. Money always helps a poor, grieving widow."
Turning, Helen Scott walked out, and the aroma of Arpege followed her, while still filling the room.
"Well how d'you like that?" Ralph Stanley asked. "We make her a millionairess, and all we get is twenty grand."
"We?" Maryann asked. "If I remember rightly, she suggested you give me half."
"I have a better idea," Ralph said, getting up, walking to the door and locking it.
"Oh?" Maryann asked, looking at him.
"I'm going to put this money into a joint bank account in the name of Mr. and Mrs. Ralph Stanley."
"Just who are you going to marry?"
"You?"
"I'm glad you made it a question, giving me the right to decide. What happened to the man who wasn't good enough for me?"
"He disappeared with the bottle he threw out."
"I think I want you proposing on your knees," she said, rising and walking into the other room.
"The only way I'll get on my knees to you is to eat that cunt of yours," he snapped.
"Then on your knees right now, Mr." she told him, lifting her skirt to reveal she wore no panties underneath. "And start eating." She sat on the sofa with her legs spread apart.
"Yum!" was all he said, falling to his knees, cupping her asscheeks in both hands as he sank his face into her cunt.
