The sanctity of marriage in the United States today seems to be almost approaching the point of non-existence. Thousands of divorce hearings clutter the dockets of courtrooms throughout the country with husbands and wives quibbling over alimony, child support and the flimsiest reasons for separation that they could possibly imagine.
Experts in the field of behavioral psychology and many marriage counselors have explained the high divorce rate with one simple sentence. "Too many people marry too young, because it's just too easy."
One solution to the problem might be to make marriage a much harder state to attain, and correspondingly, make divorce much easier.
Author Jackson Robard presents a fine example in his latest novellette, Naked Exposure. Through careful research he has created a story of a young, unsatisfied housewife, married right out of high school, who feels the walls of her marriage closing in on her. The circumstances that make her life so empty are blamed on everything but the real cause: her immaturity.
Because of her lack of ability to cope with the realities of life, young Margie Carney found herself trapped in a darkened alley of sin and corruption, unable to find a way out. There was no one to turn to; not her husband who worked himself to exhaustion every day; not a family priest; nor even a friend. She was a young woman depicted in nomadic America today, completely alone.
But the author hasn't confined himself to the loneliness and helplessness of a single young housewife. In modern America he has seen the terrible results of man's inhumanity to man, and, of course, woman. Cruelty is not new on the face of the earth, but it is certain that the terror it instills has yet to be removed.
Through the use of illegal drugs, extortion and sheer will, a man can easily control the life of another human being, directing his or her every action to suit the moods of the more powerful person.
Margie Carney found herself used by a ruthless man, a young ,man only a quarter of a century old, yet possessed by the evil of thousands of years. She like so many others, lived in fear for her life, her marriage and of death, asking herself finally, "Who's to blame?"
Author Robard has tried to show in his expertly woven story of terror and intrigue where the blame really lies. The swingers and thrill seekers are not a cause, but a result of the disintegration of our society. They use drugs as well as people to satisfy their urgent needs, unwittingly creating more thrill seekers and degradation with their inhuman drives.
Mr. Robard has tried to awaken America to this disintegration, hoping that if someone will act, someone will try to change the prevelant "kicks" attitude in young people today, there might be a chance for the next generation of Americans to live free from the terrible yoke of fanatic disassociation and aimlessness that is tightening its hold on the throat of our society.
-The Publishers Sausalito, California September, 1974
CHAPTER ONE
Margie Carney waved goodbye from the open convertible and turned the key to start. The old Ford coughed for a moment, straining for ignition, then turned over with a roar. Breathing a sigh of relief at the sound of the rusty old muffler, Margie engaged the weakened clutch and eased the creaking car away from the curb.
My only luxury, she thought sardonically as she shifted into second gear with a crushing grind. The fifteen-year-old convertible was, in fact, her sole possession. With the exception of a meager wardrobe she had nothing else to claim as her own. Seven years of marriage had provided her with nothing else except a furnished walk-up apartment and a weekly bridge game with some of her old high school cronies. At twenty-five Margie thought her life was already a failure with nothing to care for except the rattling old Ford.
The cool summer air swept her long red hair back from her soft suntanned face as she drove through the night. It was past eleven o'clock and very few cars illuminated the black asphalt with their headlights. Margie felt completely alone and free to think aloud on the nights that she drove home from her bridge games. When the sun-yellowed top was down she would look half at the road and half at the stars as she drove, talking over her problems with the glimmering suns that dotted the sky's blackness.
Why did I ever do it, she asked, directing her thoughts at the constellation, Orion. She had long ago stopped trying to find solutions and had turned to the causes of her seemingly useless life. Margie could easily recall the days seven years ago when she had been a beautiful, free high school senior.
Those days were the best, she remembered. Her last name had been Donovan then, and she had risen in prominence to be not only the most popular and attractive gjrl of her class, but also second in scholastic standing. Those were days of challenging mental activity, of dances and parties, and most of all, football games.
Football, she thought, almost hating the game and blaming it for her now-drab existence. Margie had been the head cheerleader during her senior year. It was more a position of social status than anything else, but it also afforded her the opportunity to be around the players who were, of course, boys. And naturally she enjoyed them much more than silly babbling girls. They were men of action and ability, she had always thought when looking at them smash each other to the ground during the hard-hitting games. And afterward there were always parties and dances where the muscled young men would practically stand in line so that they might surround her supple young torso with their strong arms on the dance floor.
That was Ben. Margie had watched him throw the ball like a professional quarterback to lead the team to the state championship, but she had never been able to draw his attention until the last dance of the football season of their senior year. She remembered him arrogantly strutting up to her and taking her onto the dance floor, never saying a word until his long sinewy arm wrapped itself around her back and guided her in circles to the music. His firm masculine grip had sent tingles through her entire body and from that moment on it was like magic.
From that night until the end of May they had dated no one else, allowing themselves only enough free time to study. Hundreds of hours together, at first on regular dates, and later in bed had forced them to fall into what they thought was undying love, and the night before graduation at the Senior Prom, Ben asked her to marry him. Without the slightest hesitation she had said yes and in June they were married.
For two years they carried on like newlyweds, loving at night and studying during the day. Ben's excellent quarterbacking had bought him a scholarship to the State University and though she didn't have the money to go to school, Margie would study with Ben, learning everything about business that his courses had to offer. Pride and ego held Ben in the firm belief that his wife should not work and so her life was filled with nothing but spare time.
It was so nice, Margie thought as she shifted into second again and edged the old Ford around a corner and onto a dimly lit street. It had been ideallic until the summer before Ben's junior year in college. Margie felt an old fear choke her thoughts as she remembered the afternoon the foreman of the construction firm called to tell her about the accident. At the time the details had been sparse, but later she learned that Ben had been pushing a wheelbarrow of bricks up a heavy wooden plank when suddenly the plank broke and he fell. It had only been an eight foot drop and he had landed safely on his back, but before Ben could move, the four hundred pounds of rough red bricks had crashed down on his legs. One thighbone had fractured cleanly, but his right kneecap had been smashed and splintered, ending his football career and his scholarship in less than a second.
Margie was mesmerized in thought as she drove, hardly seeing the darkened street as it quickly passed under the worn tires of the old Ford. That was the beginning of the end, she remembered with the first moistness of a tear nestling in the corners of her moss-green eyes. She had seen the change in Ben whenever she visited the hospital and by the time he was home he had become a different person altogether. His vitality had disappeared and even after he had learned to walk with a plastic kneecap and silver pins in his shattered bones there seemed to be little left of the optimistic young man she had married.
"I tried," she whispered to the stars in the constellation Orion. "I really tried, but it hasn't helped."
Margie fought the bitterness she always felt when she remembered the first year after the accident. Her tear-blurred vision forgot the dark street as she remembered the ugly things Ben had said to her during that year. She had tried to understand and comfort him, but he wouldn't acknowledge her concern. Instead he had completely turned away from his wife until, when they moved back to their home town, he had rented a one bedroom apartment with twin beds.
That had been the final blow to the young girl's willpower and she had decided to file for divorce. Her moving out had shocked Ben, however, and after a few weeks separation and hours of discussion they had reconciled their marriage without ever consulting lawyers, ft was soon afterwards that Ben went to work for the detective agency.
The old Ford rattled over a dip in the road and Margie shuddered at the thought of Ben's associates. She barely knew them, yet the thought of her husband working with men who spy on other people made her cringe. The job had paid for her convertible and let them rent a nicer apartment, though they still slept in twin beds. She knew the money was adequate enough for them to live on, but now she hardly ever saw her husband. He worked sixteen to twenty hours a day, not leaving any time for her, and his excuse was that he was doing it for her.
For me, she thought sarcastically. About the only thing he does for me is his husbandly duty in bed once a week ... Saturday nights at ten o'clock ... and then he's like a professional stud bored with his work. Tears of frustration started to spill over her long eyelashes and down the tender flesh of her smooth rounded cheeks. She was a full-blooded woman, ready to give her husband the extreme sexual pleasures that every man dreams about, but her desires had been checked by his indifference and constant absence. She needed the fire of his manliness between her long slender thighs and the warmth of his body next to her as she slept, but she was denied both most of the time.
"Oh!" she gasped as the old Ford suddenly hit another dip in the road and veered nearly out of control. A loud thump, like the sound of a pillow smashing into an opponant during a slumber party pillow fight, pounded into her ears.
The noise brought her back to the reality of the old Ford and she realized that she had been driving nearly fifty miles an hour through a residential area. She quickly looked through the rear-view mirror to see the backside of the stop sign that she had just run. God, she thought as she put her foot on the brake pedal and eased the speeding convertible down to thirty miles an hour, a cop could have seen me and given me a ticket ... Ben would be furious.
"I've got to be more careful," she said aloud, then suddenly realized that she could have been killed if another car had been passing through the intersection at the same time.
Maybe I'd be better off dead, she thought, but knew that she was lying to herself. The sudden realization of what could have been a close call with death turned her nerves to glass. Unsteadily she opened her purse and fumbled for a cigarette that would bring her temporary relaxation.
One quick puff as she lit it, then a long extended drag on the mentholed tobacco and she eased herself more comfortably into the seat, luxuriating in the smoke that filled her lungs and the cool air that blew her long hair behind her head like a sensuous beckoning flag. In another minute she would be home and would have to forget about being a woman. Margie knew that she would have to sleep alone as usual, but for the moment she could dream.
* * *
Margie Carney rolled her suntanned body over in the softness of her solitary bed. She moaned and lifted her sleep-hazed head from the pillow to look at the electric alarm clock that sat on the table between the twin beds she had grown to hate.
Nine o'clock.
Morning always seemed to come late, she thought as she yawned, her long arms stretching above her head. Another day full of nothing but a little housework and maybe another novel. She looked at her husband's empty bed, knowing that he would already be gone. Ben had been asleep when she got home last night and was gone before seven thirty. It had been two days since she had heard his voice. He was always gone before she got up in the morning, and he usually never returned until after she was asleep at night. And last night, a night that she couldn't help thinking about him and how much she needed him, he was snoring when she entered the bedroom. What kind of life is this?
The tousled bed reminded her of the dream she was having just before she woke up. It had been about herself and an unnamed stranger who had taken her away from the drab existence of an unsatisfied housewife. Margie had no idea whom she had dreamed of, but the itching heat that smoldered under the soft red pubic hair at the apex of her thighs reminded her of what he had done to her in the multi-colored fantasy.
She threw the sheet off her perspiring body and got out of bed. Her muscles ached for the first morning movement and she stretched her arms above her head, trying to touch the ceiling. Her skin tightened over her jutting breasts as she stood on her tip-toes and flexed the taut muscles of her thighs, making herself shudder with the sensuous rippling in her loins.
It feels so good to be a woman, she thought as she recalled the dream and at the same time bent to touch her toes. She bobbed slightly while her hands grasped her ankles and she stretched the loose muscles that sleep had relaxed. The honied odor of a woman's sex drifted from between her thighs to her sensitive nostrils and the dream-stranger flashed again through her mind. He'd been so masculine and so passionate, she thought as she looked at her slightly jiggling breasts. She could remember him kissing the tight pink nipples and then running his wet tongue down the lean skin of her soft sensuous belly until he found his way to her hungry clitoris.
"Whew!" she said aloud and stood up. That was something that Ben had never done, and probably never will. Margie didn't know where she got the desire to be kissed there, but her dreams were becoming more and more obsessed with the salacious kiss of an imagined tongue implanted between the wet pink lips of her vagina.
Suddenly she realized that her index finger was softly carressing her swelling clitoris and she drew it away, half afraid of what she might do. She had masturbated before, when Ben had first bought the twin beds and made her sleep by herself, but she was so ashamed that after a few times she quit, vowing that she would never do it again. Now. she thought it was silly to play with herself, but wondered if she had masturbated in her sleep when she dreamed of the lusty stranger whose massive penis surged in and out of her smooth wet vagina nearly every night.
Margie frowned at her obscene thoughts and dismissed them from her mind as she grabbed her robe and headed for the kitchen.
As she entered the tiny cubicle she could see that the coffee pot was on as it was every morning when she got up. Ben was thoughtful about her morning coffee, but that was about all, she mused unhappily to herself and poured a cup of the hot black drink. She winced at the heat as she put it to her lips and gingerly sipped a few drops. Still not awake she turned to sit at the breakfast counter when she saw the bold black headlines of the morning paper staring at her.
HIT AND RUN DRIVER KILLS TEENAGER
God, she thought, the poor child.
Margie picked up the paper and began to read the story. It began with the girl's name and address and then explained that she had been out late studying with a friend. About eleven-fifteen she had left her friend's house, deciding to walk home because of the beautiful weather.
It was a beautiful night, Margie thought as she read, when suddenly the story shot out at her attention like a rifle bullet...." at the corner of Ninth and Harrison when an old white convertible sped through the intersection, not even slowing for the stop sign, and struck the girl down, killing her almost immediately. One witness said...."
Ninth and Harrison! White convertible! Oh, she gasped. Impossible! But there was more doubt than assurance in the young housewife's mind. Though she refused to admit it, she knew that she had nearly lost control of her car at Ninth and Harrison ... the dip in the road ... the muffled thump when she hit it. No, it couldn't have been her, she couldn't have killed tha; child. She just couldn't.
The newspaper story continued: " ... that the driver was probably drunk. Though almost a block away the witness described the driver as a woman with long flowing hair, but was not close enough to get a better description.
"Police are continuing their manhunt for the driver and hope for a break within the next twenty-four hours. An officer at the scene said that the old car was probably falling apart anyway, and had dropped the last three feet of its tailpipe on the pavement when it bounced over a large dip in the road."
The tailpipe, she thought. I'll check the tailpipe. Clutching the newspaper in her fist, Margie ran from the kitchen through the back door and toward the apartment's garage. But at the corner she stopped, trembling with fear. If the tailpipe was missing, then she was guilty; a killer. No, it had to be someone else!
Her knuckles were white from the pressure of her clenched fists, but she knew that she must conquer her fear. Slowly she took a few small steps toward the open garage, then with resolution she turned the corner and stared at the dented rear bumper of her white Ford convertible.
It was gone!
Below the tarnished chrome bumper there had always been a rusty tailpipe extension, but as she stood in the bright morning sun peering into the garage Margie could see that it was gone.
Guilty!
No, impossible, she thought again, not wanting to believe that it was gone, and dropped to her knees to look for the rotted old pipe. It had to be there, she knew, because she had wired it up with a couple of clothes hangers only a week ago. Of course, it could have fallen off at any time, not just at Ninth and Harrison ... but it was no use.
Slowly she rose from her knees and backed away from the car. The muffled pillow-like thump kept banging at the back of her mind and she imagined a thirteen-year-old girl bouncing off the fender and onto the pavement. She could almost hear a painful scream as the girl hit the hard asphalt.
"No! Stop!" she screamed and covered her ears with her hands, trying to deafen the hideous scream.
The noise seemed to stop, but Margie in her mind's eye, could still see the girl lying lifeless on the pavement. She lowered her hands from her ears and walked cautiously around the car, wondering if it might jump out and strike her down. There were no dents that she could see and she supposed that the girl must have been hit by a glancing blow. She was probably killed when her head hit the pavement, Margie thought coldly.
She completed her circle of the car and saw the newspaper lying on the garage floor, its headlines blaring out their accusation. She knew that she couldn't leave it there. Someone might pick it up and tie the stroy in with her old convertible, and worst of all, with her. Frantically she picked up the paper and ran back to the safety of her kitchen.
"Oh, what am I going to do?" she thought aloud as she leaned against the closed door trying to catch her breath.
She could see headlines telling of her conviction and subsequent imprisonment, but none of them seemed real. It was ridiculous, she thought. They wouldn't send her to prison if she told them that it was an accident; that she didn't even know that she had hit anyone. She'd simply confess and they would have to let her go. The law could be cruel ... they'd have to let her go.
The telephone suddenly rang and Margie jumped with a gasp. It rang a second and a third time before she decided to answer it. Ben might be calling and she could tell him what had happened. He'd help her when she went to the police. After all, he was her husband.
Her heart stuck in her throat, Margie crossed the small kitchen and answered the ringing telephone.
"Hello, is this Margie Carney?" a strange voice asked.
"Yes, it is," she answered. "Who's this?"
"You might not remember me," the high pitched male voice said. "I knew you when you were Margie Donovan at Central High School. My name is Jamie Barth."
Jamie Barth, Jamie Barth, her memory echoed. She had a vague recollection of that name ... someone who played football with Ben.
"I'm not sure," she said. "Your name sounds familiar, but I can't place you."
"I didn't really expect you to, remember me," Jamie told her. "I was the water boy on the football team when Ben was a senior. Remember, he was the best quarterback in the state that year."
Of course, she thought, Jamie Barth. She remembered the skinny waterboy with the long greasy black hair who carried the water bucket and scoop like they were made of gold. But no one had ever bothered to associate with him because he'd never been very freindly, nor really very socially attractive. Margie wondered why he would call her.
"Yes, Jamie, I remember," she said trying to sound cheerful. "How've you been?"
"Not bad at all, thanks," he said, his ego pleased that she would remember the waterboy from a high school football team.
For another minute they talked about Ben and old classmates, trying to recall what had happened to a few of them until finally Margie's curiosity forced her to ask: "Did you have anything special in mind, Jamie? I mean, is there something I can do for you?"
"No, not really,'" he answered. "I've seen you driving around town in that white Ford of yours and just thought I'd give you a call."
The Ford! Why did he say that? She wanted to dismiss him and everything else from her mind. The teenager's body flashed into her vision again and she could hear the muffled thump hitting the car. Tailpipe ... thump ... dead girl: she wanted to go to sleep and erase everything. It was a nightmare, a horrible dream. None of it could be true!
"Well, I'm glad you called, Jamie," she finally answered. "But I've got some shopping to do. Maybe you, Ben and I could get together for a drink sometime."
"Yes, maybe we could," she heard him say, the tone of his voice suddenly becoming very strange. "After all, I've seen you driving that convertible around so many times and never tried to call you before."
"Sure, Jamie," she said hurriedly, wanting to hang up the receiver. "Maybe we can do it this weekend."
There was a deathly pause and Margie thought she heard him chuckle, but he suddenly broke in as if she had never said anything.
"Yeah, in fact I saw you driving last night. I'd just left Smitty's. You know, that little bar at Ninth and Harrison."
Oh God, she thought as she gasped at the words. He saw me! He saw me! Even though Margie had decided to turn herself in, the knowledge that someone else knew she was the hit and run driver unleashed panic in her guilty mind.
Jamie chuckled at her gasp and said: "Yeah, I thought you'd know the place. You lost something there, didn't you?"
"I-I don't know what you're talking about." she answered feigning innocence. "I wasn't even out last night."
"Oh, sure you were," he said, sounding like a reprimanding schoolmaster. "Remember, you hit something in front of Smitty's and lost a piece off your car, like a tailpipe, maybe?"
It was unreal! He sounded like he enjoyed tormenting her. It was an accident, but he made it sound like she did it on purpose. How could such a little skinny kid be so cruel?
But Jamie Barth was no longer a skinny little kid. He knew that he was still underweight and pale, but he'd become a man long ago, a man with his own ideas about the world and about beautiful women like Margie Carney.
"Don't give me that crap," he suddenly barked at her. "You know damn well I saw the whole thing and now I've called to offer you a big favor."
He waited for her to say something, but she remained silent except for her heavy deep breathing into the white telephone receiver.
"If you go to any garage in town you're gonna be caught and have your sweet little ass thrown in jail.
People in this town don't like hit and run drivers. Hell, if they don't send you to the state pen, they'll run you and Ben out of town. How'd you like to spend about five years of your life in a dirty prison cell?"
"Jamie, you-you've made a mistake," she told him. "I think we'd better hang Up now."
"Nobody'll hang up until I say so," he growled. "I'm gonna save you a lot of trouble, so just listen.
"I'm a mechanic, see, down at the Acme garage. Now, if you bring your car down here during the day to be fixed, you get pinched. So if you want to stay out of stir, all you have to do is leave the keys in your car tonight. I know where you live and all I have to do is come by around midnight and pick it up. I can put on another pipe at the garage when no one'll be there, and have it back in your place before two o'clock. I'm just doin' it as a favor, 'cause I always thought you were a good lookin' chick. No one else'll know, not even Ben."
"I-I guess you do know," she whispered. "But it doesn't matter. I'm going to call Ben and have him take me to the police. I don't know why you'd want to help me get out of this mess, but it just wouldn't be any good. I've got to turn myself in."
What a stupid broad, Jamie thought. She thinks I'm doin' this because I'm a good guy. Christ, they get dumber every year.
"O.K., baby, if that's your bag, then do it. Just remember what I said about the five years in prison. If you change your mind you call me at Acme."
Margie heard the click at the other end of the line and slowly put her receiver back on the hook. She was relieved, but couldn't help thinking about Jamie Barth. His language was so rough and he sounded so funny when he talked about seeing her in front of the bar. But he did offer to help her, and he didn't want anything in return. Maybe just being a mechanic made him sound so rough. After all, she thought, he might have really cared about me going to prison....
"Who's on the phone," Ben asked from behind her, breaking her thoughts. He had come in through the front door and she hadn't heard him.
"Oh," she gasped. "You startled me ... What are you doing home? I didn't expect you until late tonight," she said. She wanted to tell him now, confess everything, but decided to wait and see what his mood was. If he was in a bad temper she thought she should wait until later.
"Right there," he said pointing to the newspaper on the counter. "That's why I'm home."
Margie looked from the paper to her husband's usually stoic face. She could see that he was extremely tense and had more energy than she had seen in him for more than four years.
"Don't you ever read the paper," he asked, his voice louder than normal. "The headline, the little girl who was killed last night! Her parents called the agency this morning. They don't think the police'll find the bitch who did it, so they want us to take the case."
The case? But there isn't any case, she thought. I did it and I'm going to turn myself in.
"I've been assigned to handle it," he continued. "And I'll be goddamned if I'll quit before I find the killer who drove that car."
"B-But why did you come home?" she asked, suddenly afraid of what he might do if he knew that she was guilty of the horrid crime. "You could have just called to tell me."
"I came for my gun," he said in a heavy monotone.
"I left it behind and I might need it. When I catch that bitch I'm not going to let her go, even if I have to shoot her."
Shoot her! Margie trembled when she thought that he might have to shoot his own wife. She had never seen him so intense, so singularly dedicated to one idea. It was almost like he was obsessed. She had to tell him the truth! But how?
"Ben," she whispered, but he didn't hear her.
"And you know what else," he said as he pulled his pistol from its hiding place in a drawer. "Al told me that if I can solve this case in less than a week, he'll make me a full partner. That means we're on our way to everything that we ever wanted."
But to Margie it didn't matter. Promotions or possessions had no more value. She knew that she had killed an innocent teenage girl with her car and that she would have to confess her crime. But Ben ... Ben didn't even care, she thought as she watched him checking his revolver. He only wants to catch a criminal, avenge a dead girl and get his promotion. Can't he tell? Doesn't he know that something's wrong?
"That's it," he said snapping the gun shut and studing it into the holster on his belt. "I've gotta run now."
It was now or never!
"B-Ben," she asked, her voice trembling with fear. "Yeah, honey."
"G-Good luck," she heard herself say. Margie Carney, she thought, spineless coward.
She watched his lips smile and thank her and saw the door close behind his back. His limping right leg bouncing down the back stairs sounded like the muffled thump that had haunted her mind for the last hour. Except for the limp he seemed like the young Ben Carney that she had married, but it made no difference. Too many hours of lonely bitterness and silence had held her from telling him the most important thing that had ever happened to her, to them, since his accident. What shall I do? she asked herself again and again but her thoughts were a jumbled mass of confusion.
She imagined the unconscious body of the girl again and saw the tailpipe flying off the back of her car. It was a horrible sight for her tormented mind. She could see the blackness, the speed and the dreadful dark blood spilling onto the pavement, all framed by the cold steel bars of a prison cell.
"Ooooh," she moaned and slammed her open hand against the telephone book that hung from a small gold screw in the wall.
For a moment she stared at it, then cautiously pulled it from the wall and began thumbing through the yellow pages.
She slowly dialed the numbers that she read from the boldface type of a quarter-page ad. The last digit took what seemed like an eternity to finish its course.
The high shrill ring that normally would have startled her, barely seemed audible as she waited for someone to pick up the telephone at the other end-of the line.
Finally a voice boomed into her ear: "Acme Garage:"
Margie Carney knew that she could change her mind, but there was no other way.
"May I speak to Jamie Barth," she asked while her whole body trembled with the knowledge that she was now committing an unforgivable crime and there was no turning back.
CHAPTER TWO
Margie slowly closed the kitchen door behind her, shutting out the bright morning sunlight. For a moment she leaned against the flimsy door, her eyes closed in relief. It was done, and her mind was blank except for the singular image of the new tailpipe that jutted out from the undercarriage of her convertible like an obscene pointing finger of guilt.
She had slept fitfully the whole night and as soon as Ben had left the apartment to continue his relentless search for the hit and run driver, she had jumped out of bed, thrown on her white terrycloth robe and run down the back stairs to the garage. The car had been returned with a complete new muffler and tailpipe system just like Jamie had promised, and she hadn't even heard him take the car or return it.
Now she was again in the safety of her own kitchen trying to catch her breath. As if she were being watched, Margie walked nonchalantly to the breakfast counter and began fixing a pot of coffee. The pipe is fixed, she thought, and I'm in the clear. But the young redheaded housewife knew that no matter how much she rationalized, one fact remained: she was still guilty of hit and run murder, and nothing could change that.
Throughout her entire sleepless night she had wanted to wake Ben and tell him what she had done, but each time she decided to wake him, something in the back of her mind pulled the reins and made her stop. There was no getting away from it. If she told Ben that she had been the driver, then he would be forced to turn her in, and his promotion and their marriage would be wiped out in a single day. Too much happened to him since the construction accident, and if he found out that she was the killer he was looking for, it would probably destroy him and their marriage entirely.
Though she wanted to confess and clear her tortured conscience of the terrible guilt that haunted her, Margie knew it was too late. When she had called Jamie and asked him to fix the tailpipe she had taken the final step past the point of no return. From now on she must live with the knowledge that she had taken the life of a thirteen-year-old girl; a knowledge that she shared only with Jamie Barth.
Suddenly the telephone rang, its sharp intruding bell making her spill the cup of coffee that she held to her lips. It rang again and again while she wiped the coffee from her chin and robe, hoping that whoever was calling would hang up.
But it was only seven fifteen in the morning and no one else she knew would call her at that hour except one person, Jamie Barth, and he wouldn't hang up!
"Hello," she said uncertainly after lifting the receiver to her ear.
"Don't tell me you were still in bed," Jamie's voice said confidently. "You let the phone ring nine times, but I'll bet you've been up at least an hour. What's the matter, don't you trust me?"
"Yes, Jamie," she whispered as if someone else were in the room with her. "I trust you, but I guess I just wasn't sure...."
"But you saw the new exhaust system, didn't you?" he asked.
"Yes, oh yes. It looks wonderful," she lied. It looked like any other tailpipe to her, except that her imagination could see the blood of guilt on it.
"Good!" his high pitched voice intoned. "Now you know that I really want to help you."
Margie told him that she knew, of course, and wanted to thank him, though her conscience hammered at her: You're guilty and you're making another mistake, committing another crime! Turn yourself in and take the consequences before you get so involved with this guy that you'll never be the real Margie Carney again. Turn yourself in!
"Good! Then I'll be over to see you tonight and we'll have to make some plans."
"T-Tonight!" she said, surprised at his boldness. "I don't understand what you mean. What plans are you talking about?"
"You've got to have an alibi and a cover story," he told her. "If the police get wise, you've got to be able to tell them something, or you'll be in more trouble than you ever thought of."
"But, not her," she whispered frantically. "Not tonight! My husband'll be home and...."
"No baby," he laughed. "Your hubby won't be home tonight. We both know that he's never home before eleven o'clock, don't we? I'll see you at seven!"
"But, Jamie," she whimpered. "You just can't ... "
Her sentence finished to the click in her ears as Jamie hung up on her. Why did he want to come here, she thought, still holding the telephone in her slim long fingers. If I have to have an alibi, he could tell me what it is over the phone. Why does he want to come here? Ben would never understand.
Margie felt completely helpless as she left the kitchen and walked to the bathroom, taking an half-empty bottle of bourbon with her. A hot bath might calm her down enough to think, and the bourbon would certainly relax her, especially that early in the morning.
* * *
Twelve hours had passed and Margie stepped out of the tub for the second time that day and put on her robe again. Since Jamie had called, she had taken two baths, finished the bottle of bourbon, done the day's shopping while she was half-drunk, and bought another quart of the clear brown whiskey.
Sipping all day, she had finished the second bottle and was barely able to stand up without wobbling. Even though she had taken another bath to sober herself up, she was still too woozy to think straight, and the bourbon hadn't solved any of her problems. It was quarter past seven and Jamie was already fifteen minutes late, but she knew he'd come and she would have to hear whatever he said.
A heavy knock came from the front door and Margie stopped to pick up the two empty whiskey bottles that lay next to the bathtub. She walked unsteadily to the living room, depositing the bottles in the clothes hamper that stood in the hallway. She didn't want him to know that she'd been drinking and thought that her secret would be safe if the evidence were hidden beneath the dirty clothes.
A minute later she opened the door to see the tall gangling image of Jamie Barth standing in the doorway. He was almost as skinny as he had been seven years ago when she had seen him last, except now he was over six feet tall and his greasy black hair was no longer greasy, but long and curly with a windblown look ... and ... he'd obviously been drinking.
"What took you so goddamned long," he demanded roughly as he looked at the open neck of her white robe. He could see the beginning of the deep cleavage that ran between her full firm breasts. He knew that she'd always been stacked, but goddamn, he thought, now she was really somethin'. As his eyes traveled down the length of her body he could see her slim waist and the soft curve of her hips even under the bulkiness of the terrycloth robe. Jamie couldn't remember ever being this close to a woman who was built like her, especially one who wore only a short robe that was held closed by a single bow-tied belt.
Self-consciously, Margie pulled the top of her robe together as she let him in. His eyes made her feel as if she were stripped naked and a shudder rippled through the relaxed muscles of her smooth, flat stomach.
"I'm sorry, Jamie," she answered. "I was taking a bath."
"Too bad I didn't come sooner," he chuckled, an obscene grin exposing his nicotine stained teeth. "I need a bath myself."
Margie ignored his lewd remark and let him in. Obediently, she went to the kitchen when he asked for a beer and brought it to him. His outstretched hands took and bottle and glass from her and he told her to sit next to him on the couch. Afraid to refuse, she settled uncomfortably on the opposite end of the sofa and waited for him to speak.
"What'sa matter," he said, slurring his words. "You 'fraid of me? Come on and sit over here."
She was afraid! Something in his tone, in his manner, struck an alarm button and she wanted him to leave. But instead, following his command, she moved a little closer though not close enough for him to touch her.
"Tha's better, baby. Now we can talk," he said drunkenly.
It was obvious to Margie that he was drunker than she was, but he seemed to want to do nothing but talk. The alcohol in her system made her let down her guard as he babbled incessantly about things that she neither understood nor cared to understand until she heard him say: " ... so you oughta take care of me too."
"I-I don't understand." she stuttered.
"Whadda ya mean, ya don't understand?" he suddenly snapped at her. "Don't you have any goddamned brains. Why d'ya think I came over here tonight? 'Cause I wanted a lousy beer? You can bet your sweet little ass that's not the reason."
Margie blinked her eyes at his words. What a filthy mouth, she thought. He's just drunk and I won't let him talk to me like that, and Ben won't either. Ben ... Ben ... Her husband wasn't there to protect her! She suddenly realized through her alcohol daze that she was alone with this vulgar man. and she wasn't strong enough to stop him from talking anyway he wanted ... or doing anything he wanted. Was that the reason he came over?
"Look." he continued, not sounding as drunk as he had a moment before. "I've done you a big favor, a favor that'll keep you outta jail, so now you owe me a favor and I've come to collect."
What does he want! she thought, suddenly realizing that she was trembling.
"Hell, you're even dressed for it," he grinned. "One little flick of the wrist and that robe'll fall right off your shoulders. Then we can get down to some real wild lovin.'"
"Oh, my God," she gasped. He wanted her to ... to make love with him. No, she couldn't do it, her mind thought frantically and she started to get up, but the quart-and-a-half of bourbon that she had drunk during the day had dulled her reflexes so badly that she had hardly any control of her weakened muscles.
"Scare ya?" he asked as his arm reached out for the bow that held her belt fastened.
"No, Jamie," she whimpered, knowing her back was against the wall. "I can't do it. It's just not right!"
Suddenly Jamie fell back on the couch laughing so hard that he dropped his beer.
"Not right! Not right!" he laughed. "Jesus Christ, that's rich. You run down some poor little kid and take a powder, then you tell me it's not right for me to crawl between your legs for savin' ya!"
Margie wanted to run, to escape this laughing madman, but her muscles would not respond. His words echoed in her mind ... and nothing seemed real. No one talked like that to a lady, but she knew that he didn't think that she was a lady anymore. What was she going to do? She was helpless, and....
"Look, bitch," his voice interrupted her thoughts. "I really don't give a damn what you think is right. You and I both know what you've done, and don't think for one minute that just because there's a new tailpipe on your car, you're in the clear. I've got the matching piece buried outside of town, and if you don't do what I tell ya, I'll take it to the police and let them match it on the piece that fell off your car. All you gotta do is say no, and I'll make sure they have your proud little ass in jail before midnight tonight!"
Blackmail! That's what he was doing, she thought through her alcoholic haze. He's going to blackmail me and there's nothing I can do. I've gone too far. Margie realized that she would have to do what he said if she wanted to save her husband's career and her marriage. Even if Ben didn't solve the case he would probably get his promotion anyway. But if the law found out that she was the driver, then he'd be finished and so would she. She had to get the tailpipe from Jamie and destroy it, no matter what. Just this once she would have to do it with him ... let him "crawl between her legs."
She cringed as she thought the horrible obscene words but knew that no matter what he called it, it wouldn't be like really being unfaithful to Ben. She was doing it for him, for his career, and this skinny pale blackmailer would give her the tailpipe when they were done and she'd be free.
"I-I've never done it with anyone but Ben," she murmured with a tortured slowness. "But if you'll turn off the lights and promise to give me the pipe, then I'll do what you want."
Margie tensed her body as he started to slide across the couch toward her. Over and over she kept telling herself that she had to do it as she watched him put out an arm and place his hand on her knee. She shuddered at the touch of this obscene pale man who revolted her, but she made no move to retreat and limply dropped her head to the back of the couch. Jamie was the first man to ever touch her besides her husband and the sensation of his sweating hand on her knee frightened her. She saw the robe slip off her thighs in the half-light from the window, and closer her eyes to avoid seeing his grease-stained hand slip between the smooth tanned flesh of her legs. He twisted the hand and she relaxed her taut muscles allowing her knees to spread limply apart. Her mind whirled in an alcoholic vortex as she felt the light touch of his calloused hand slide easily along the soft insides of her trembling thighs. Momentarily, she thought of Ben's hands, free of callouses, but never soft and teasing like Jamie's. Why couldn't it be her husband who wanted her so much instead of this horrible strange man, she thought as she suddenly jerked at the fingers' teasing small circles around the outer edges of the soft triangle of pubic hair between her legs.
She groaned as she felt one of the fingers gently part the silken hair and slip through the open slit between the pink quivering lips of her vagina. A wave of shame spread through her mind as the finger passed lightly over her clitoris. Jamie's eyes were wide open and intense as he watched his hand carress the trembling flesh between her open thighs. He had slipped to the floor and knelt in front of her, his head between her knees, intent on the obscene spectacle that he was performing on this untouchable beauty. She could feel his hot breath blanketing her quivering thighs and wanted to scream and strike out at him. Her body shuddered as she fought mentally against the lewdly probing finger. Her only weapon was a mental block. No matter what she wanted to do, she would have to submit to his tortuous fingers ... and worse. But it was her own fault, and she would have to obey his depraved demands to get the tailpipe. If only he wouldn't tease her so mercilessly. If only he would do it like Ben, fast, and then it would be over. Then he would leave her alone and she would never have to see him again, except to get the incriminating pipe. Please hurry, her mind begged, just hurry and get it over with, then Ben will be safe and I'll be free.
She felt his heavy strong thumbs suddenly spread the quivering pink lips of her hair covered vagina and heard him emit a soft low whistle.
"Goddamn, you look tight." he said suddenly, his obscene words revolting her almost to tears. "Ol' Ben must have a pretty small prick if he hasn't loosened you up any more than that."
Margie shook her head in despair as tears started to stream down her cheeks. She couldn't believe what she heard as the skinny lust-incited extortionist spit out his obscene words. She had never imagined that a man could be so dirty, so crude. What kind of man could he be to first blackmail her into submitting her body to his lewd desires, then talk like an animal about her ... her private parts ... He had to be some kind of pervert to say those awful things about her and Ben.
"Come on, baby,'" she heard him say. "Stand up and let's get that robe off."
Obediently she stood, relieved that he had taken his teasing hands away from her naked loins. He easily unfastened the terrycloth belt and slid the robe from her trembling shoulders. Margie bit her lower lip in fearful anticipation as she felt his wet mouth caress her neck and then slide to the rounded tips of her firm trembling breasts. He sucked hungrily at the pointed pink nipples until the tiny round buds became hard in response to his mouth and she clenched her fists at her sides in silent protest. Jamie was panting as he sucked at her taut nipples and searched the soft curves of her body with his sweating hands, and Margie stifled a sob as she stood before him completely naked and a slave to his lust-crazed will. She had made the decision and had to stick to it, but she couldn't help the tears that flowed in a steady stream from her deep, sensual green eyes.
Her stomach fluttered with revulsion as she felt his moist lips sliding over her quivering breasts and toward her smooth flat belly. He was on his knees running his hard wet tongue in small circles around her navel, and she wanted to die. No one had ever kissed her anywhere but on her lips and face, and now this stranger had already hardened her nipples with his tantalizing wet mouth and was running his teasing tongue around her navel. She could feel a strange tittilating tingling coarsing through the rippled soft muscles of her ivory abdomen and fought with all her mental strength to subdue the rising sensuous wave of delight. He could do what he wanted, just as long as she would get the damning evidence he had hidden. The sensuous tingling was spreading through her long naked body, but she tried desperately to ignore it, concentrating on a buried piece of metal pipe somewhere on the outskirts of town.
As her throbbing head nodded numbly in an alcoholic daze she felt his rough hands push her well-rounded hips backwards and onto the couch. She opened her tear stained eyes as she sat down with a thump and saw him kneeling beside the couch, his half-open mouth slack with desire. Slowly he rose and stood victoriously over her, the massive bulge in his trousers seeming to throb directly in front of her terrified eyes.
Her naked body shivered with a sudden chill, yet felt strangely incomplete without his hands and wet tongue caressing her trembling flesh. Suddenly afraid of her own hidden desires, she threw the thought from her mind, and watched his shadowed form as he took off his shirt, exposing his bony hairless chest to her alcoholic gaze. So skinny, she thought as she watched him kick off his shoes and begin to unbuckle the belt on his trousers.
"Oh," she gasped as he suddenly shoved his pants down and his huge cock sprung from its imprisonment, jutting out from his tall, pale body directly in front of her frightened face.
It was unbelievable!
She had never seen any man's penis except Ben's, and had always thought it was big! But Jamie's was at least two inches thick and eight inches long ... and it lewdly twitched in the half darkness of the room, beckoning the deep well of desire that tingled in her trembling loins.
"Not ready, yet, huh?" Jamie sneered at her, and she dimly watched him bend over and fumble through his clothes in the dark. "Lie down," he commanded and she instantly obeyed.
In a moment she knew that he would climb on top of her and make love to her like Ben did, driving his swollen prick into her defenseless vagina until he triumphantly filled her with his scalding white sperm. She had never climaxed with Ben, and only once had she even felt the tremors of excitement lubricate her almost virginal passage with warm wet juices. Afraid, she clenched her eyes tightly shut and waited for the telltale weight of his thin emaciated body to press down on her naked flesh.
But he was going to wait too!
Suddenly her body jerked involuntarily at the light tortuous touch that raced a salacious path along her smooth inner thighs. She gasped spastically at the lascivious teasing and tried to clamp her legs together, but felt Jamie's strong hands push her trembling knees apart. She slowly opened her eyes to barely see Jamie's obscene grin as he lightly slid the five inch tip of a peacock feather he had hidden in his pocket along the quivering ivory flesh of her long supple legs.
Margie moaned as the tantalizing instrument traced tiny circles along the soft sensitive skin of her inner thighs. She wanted to scream, but knew that he would probably hit her if she did. The feather was too much, too cruel! Never had she experienced such a salacious, exciting sensation, but she had to fight the wonderful touch. She had to fight this strange obsessed man who was not her husband!
But Jamie would stand for no resistance as he grinned drunkenly down at the girl who was writhing under the power of his feather. He could easily keep her legs apart with one arm, and tease her relentlessly with the instrument in his other hand. With a lewd chuckle, he pushed the soft tip of the feather between the trembling lips of her hair-lined vagina and twisted it lightly so that it covered every inch of the tender pink flesh. Margie panted in short gasps, trying to find some kind of release in a scream, but nothing would come. She could feel the tormenting feather spur the long buried senses of desire that had remained undiscovered deep in the confines of her tight trembling cunt. She tried to fight the rising excitement until suddenly a flood of burning liquids poured off the smooth walls of her vagina, lubricating the pink quivering entrance of her tormented pussy.
"Ooohhh, no!" she moaned at the salacious torture. "Please, don't, Please!"
But the peacock feather turned again in the wet slit and its titillating tip slid between the soft red pubic hairs and brushed over the hidden pink bud of her untouched clitoris. For the first time in her life her felt the rising desire of her dormant clitoris as the feather flicked at it teasingly, begging the hidden bud to rise in an excited erection and her aching wet pussy throbbed as she heard Jamie's insane giggling laughter. As quickly as it had come, the lust-inciting feather suddenly left the tortured red bud of her clitoris, slid through her soft silken pubic hair and over her flat trembling belly. She gasped with relief as the feather turned circles on her skin, roving over her hips, then to her shoulders and down her arms, until the rotating tip ran over the full roundness of her full firm breasts. This tall skinny mechanic had blackmailed her, yet he had given her more pleasure in a few seconds with a feather than her husband had ever given her with his penis in seven years of empty marriage. Instead of screaming for him to stop, she began whimpering softly with pleasure as the feather, moist from her warm vaginal fluids, screwed lascivious circles around the jutting pink nipples that stood out from her quivering breasts. Shame and humiliation cried from the back of her confused mind as she slowly jiggled her breasts in response to the sensuous torture. But she was aware only of the throbbing ache down between her legs and the lewd tantalizing circles of the feather on her trembling breasts as it made every cell of her impassioned body begin to tingle with a burning desire.
Her pride and self-respect fought to gain control and forced an image of herself into her mind. She could see herself writhing slowly on the couch, the sensual feather teasing the taut red nipples of her breasts and tears suddenly began flowing from her eyes. She was like a slave at the hands of this torturing pervert, and he was forcing her to submit to his obscene probing to stoke the fires of his own desires. Worse yet, she knew that she was beginning to enjoy the tender light tracing ... no she couldn't enjoy it ... no ... no!!
Unwittingly she had pressed out her breasts until they stood straight up from her prone trembling body in defiance. The two jutting white orbs were demanding that they be teased and tormented with exciting pleasures that they had never known, and with their taut hard nipples, they seemed to be an entity completely apart from the rest of her body. But as she fought for control over her flushed body Margie felt the teasing feather run a salacious path through the persipring valley between her breasts and move downward toward the pulsating pink flesh of her warm moist cunt. She gasped as she felt it slide lightly over the silken red pubic hair, but almost cried in frustration when it didn't stop there, but continued on over the backs of her soft inner thighs. Jamie's lewd giggling had turned into a ceaseless heavy panting as he deftly turned the teasing feather in small concentric circles, homing in on the red elastic ring of her tiny untouched anus. The round white orbs of her soft, smooth buttocks suddenly jerked as he nestled the dampened tip of the tantalizing instrument against the clenching rubbery sphincter and twitched it back and forth.
"Oooooohhhhh," she moaned in ecstatic agony. "I can't take it any more. Oh God! Stoppp!"
Jamie punctuated his heavy panting with an obscene giggle as he watched her raise her full curved hips so that her clasping anus seemed to almost grab out at the feather. Her tortured mind cried for release from the rising passion, but her lust-maddened body craved even more of the sadistic teasing.
"Oh God!" she screamed. "No more! No more! No more!"
"You're ready to be fucked now, aren't ya," Jamie sneared at her, twisting the peacock feather against her wet clasping rectal orifice.
"Oh, please, yes." she begged. "Anything, just stop that feather!"
With her last gasping words the agonizing teaser suddenly lifted from her anus, leaving her breathless. She slowly lowered her upraised hips in relief and relaxed her clenching wet thighs. The agonizing torment had brought forth all the hidden untried desires that she had wanted to feel every time she had made love with her husband. Now she bit her lip in tearful frustration as she remembered what she had just told Jamie: that she wanted him to fuck her! Humiliated beyond her imagination's furthest bounds, she began to weep silently as she waited for him to plunge his throbbing cock into the wet cavern between her trembling thighs.
Wet ... Wet ... the words suddenly came to her. For the first time she was really wet down there, in her ... pussy! Margie couldn't remember ever hearing herself say or think that dirty word before and yet she just did ... pussy! What was becoming of her? Humiliated by her own obscene thoughts, she lay on her back waiting for him to fuck her and make her his virtual sexual slave for the night. She knew that she had no choice and that the tailpipe and her husband's reputation and his whole career depended on her giving her body to the sex-obsessed blackmailer. Somehow she would endure the torture, somehow she had to have the strength.
"You're gonna like this, baby," she heard Jamie whisper, his voice hoarse with a choking desire. "Every broad I ever fucked has always come back for more. Yeah, you think you're really hot stuff, but you'll be beggin' for my cock just like the rest of those bitches!"
Margie shuddered uncontrollably at the sound of his harsh voice in the dark, knowing that the time had finally come.
She winced as she felt the weight of his naked body climb onto the couch and settle between her widespread legs. His rough hands slid along the length of her smooth ivory thighs and brushed across the hair-covered lips of her wet aching vagina. His long slender finger grasped at the pink quivering lips, kneading them slowly for a moment, then with two fingers he spread the wet pink flesh apart. Margie rolled her head to one side in fearful expectation, a large tear falling from each eye. She knew that he was going to drive a finger brutally into her hot damp passage, then take it out and ram his giant jerking cock deep into her soft belly until she would pass out with pain.
But instead of ravaging her, he gently began to rub his coarse thumb along the moist open slit, teasing the trembling flesh and massaging her swollen red clitoris. And somehow, it suddenly didn't seem to be too bad, in fact it felt almost good, she thought hazedly as the large thumb brushed across her sensitive aroused flesh. Slowly and easily, as she tensed and moaned at the gentle probing thumb, and encouraged by her reaction he incerted a finger gently into her soft hair-lined pussy. The wet juices made the entry easy and he began turning the salacious finger back and forth, rubbing the smooth hot walls of her clasping vagina with his nails, loosening the opening for the massive attack of his throbbing prick.
"Goddamn!" he muttered. "You really are tight. Ol' Ben must not be worth a fuck if he let you stay this tight."
Margie gasped at his obscene comment then suddenly felt the huge mass of his pulsating cock slide up one smooth thigh and nestle between the open pink lips of her trembling, hair-lined pussy. As he raised and lowered his bony hips, making the red swollen head rub along the moist slit, she thought he would make love to her now like Ben always did, driving into her with one ramming stroke, then humping like an animal for a minute or two until he came. Her husband always did it that way, then get right off of her as soon as he was finished. She clenched the muscles in her face as she anticipated the harsh entry from the huge swollen prick.
Hurry up and get it over with, she thought helplessly. Do it and get off!
But Jamie was not like her husband. Despite his perversions and seemingly malnourished physical appearance, he was as much a wild lover as he claimed he was. Endowed with a magnificent cock, he had practiced for years on girls of all kinds, from whores to young hungry school teachers. And as he slowly rubbed the twitching head against the young Margie Carney's cunt he could hear her moaning unconsciously with pleasure. During seven years of marriage she had felt nothing like this, and now her body didn't want to give up the chance for the unfathomable ecstasy of orgasm. But it wasn't fair to happen like this. He was a blackmailer and a nobody and she mustn't give him the slightest satisfaction of knowing that he made her tremble with desire. He would have to use her like a whore before he could get what he wanted, she vowed silently.
But that's exactly what Jamie wanted to do!
"Moan bitch! You dig it, don't ya?" he growled. He, Jamie Barth had made that stuck up little bitch, Margie, lie down on her back and spread her legs for him, and she was loving it. She and all her friends had always snubbed him in school, but now he would get his revenge and make her pay for it. She had made too many mistakes, and now, half-drunk and naked, she was his to fuck any way he wanted; and he wanted to fuck that stuck up bitch like she was a dirty little whore!
Now knowing that her excited utterings and protests were only increasing his excitement, Margie moaned once more and tried to move her smooth white hips away from his teasing cock. But the massive jerking tip had already lodged its burning nose in the open entrance of her hair-lined loins and was ready to plunge into her tight wet cunt. Easily, helped by her warm lubricating juices, Jamie pushed his hips forward and clenched his skinny buttocks, thrusting the pounding red tip halfway into her aching vaginal passage. Her eyes sprung wide open in terror as she felt the tremendous prick slithering through her almost virginal entrance like a red-hot poker. She screamed in terror, but he pushed savagely forward again to sink another inch of her jerking rock-hard flesh into her tight clasping pussy.
"Oh, God, stop!" she whimpered.
Jamie looked down at his pulsing cock and held still for a moment, feeling the smooth wet cuntal walls enveloping his throbbing tip.
"What'sa matter, baby?"
"I can't take it," she wailed helplessly. "It's too big ... It hurts, oh it hurts!"
"Naw, it'll only hurt for a minute. They all say that. Just wait and you'll find out different."
"Aaaahhhhh," she cried again in a futile effort to escape the pain as he began to rotate his hips in large concentric circles. She felt the huge prick stretching her aching vagina, and involuntarily more of the hot, teasing juices began to flow from her cuntal walls, lubricating the strained passageway. Somehow the juices eased the pain and she thought that he must have destroyed her sensitive sexual nerve endings, but there were other fresh sensations, fiery tinglings deep in her smooth abdomen. The massive prick wormed around, rubbing every cell of her tortured vagina, but instead of stretching and hurting her, she felt the lascivious tingling sensations growing in intensity and head. Salacious thoughts ran rampant through her half-drunken mind and she couldn't dismiss the tormenting ripples of pleasure, but only transfer them to the center of the growing fire where the throbbing phallus was sinking deeper and deeper into the smooth wet confines of her defenseless belly. It was tearing at her insides and she was completely helpless against it. Somehow he was winning the battle. Somehow he had overcome her terrified naked body and made her his toy, his sexual plaything. He listened with lustful pleasure to her ecstatic groans and knew that he had won, that he, Jamie, was now king and not all the glorious football players he'd been a water-boy for. Yes, she had submitted to his torment and now was just as excited as he was ... he knew she wanted it, he knew it!
Oh God what's happening, she thought, as the waves of excitement grew stronger. I didn't want this to hap pen ... but ... but maybe I did. Oh God it's never been like this. Please, Ben forgive me.
"Love it, don't ya Bitch," he tormented her. "Come on, tell me that ya love it!"
His hips pushed forward and another inch of the massive throbbing cock sank into her fiery hair-covered cunt.
"Oooh, God!" she panted through her lust-incited haze.
She fought for control against his words. She wouldn't tell him that: She couldn't let him take everything, she thought frantically and twisted her body in helpless protest, but her sensuously squirming hips only incited him further.
"Come on, bitch," he yelled. "Tell me ya love it!"
"Alright, alright, I do," she hissed at him through her tightly clenched teeth, trying desperately to fight the obscene, exciting ripples that coarsed like wildfire through her body.
"No, you hot little cunt, Tell me you love to be fucked. Say it!"
My God, a numbed soundless voice echoed through her mind. He's like a tyrant crazy with power and lust! She had spread her legs for a maniac and he had turned her on like her husband never could have, and now it was too late to turn back!
"Ooooohhhhh," she moaned, not wanted to be degraded anymore by her own words. "Say it now!"
"I-I," she whimpered helplessly, not wanting to say the awful words, but she had lost control.
"I love to be fucked, Ooohhh, I want to be fucked," she suddenly growled from deep in her throat in complete unconditional surrender. "Fuck me, yes Fuck me!" .
He'd done it! Jamie Barth had made her beg for his cock and now he'd give it to her like he'd never fucked anyone. Eagerly in his passion and excitement he began to rock back and forth driving his throbbing penis in and out of her wet tortured cunt. But by now that was exactly what she needed, what she wanted. With each thrust she gasped a high-pitched, "Oh," as she felt the tight walls of her fiery cunt expanding with his driving, pounding cock until it adjusted to the thick massive size. This was it! This was what she had always dreamed of and never experienced. Every inch of her ravaged body was on fire with lust, excited to tremendous heights. She was like a prisoner, a slave and she was being fucked like a common street whore, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the exquisie electrifying shocks that shot through her sex-crazed body.
The throbbing cock rammed into her more viciously and she moaned with ecstatic desire. She felt the strength of his long hands grasp the quivering white orbs of her buttocks and lift her bottom off the sofa so that she was rising with his savage thrusts. Each thrust rammed the rigid prick against the sensitive clitoris as it slid in and out, hurting her, but she wanted to be hurt! She wanted to be punished for fucking with this obscene man, for being unfaithful to her husband, and for the cruel manslaughter she had committed with her car-.
"Love it, don'cha," he panted in her ear and rammed his massive cock as far as he could into her clasping hot pussy.
"Yes, oh yes! Fuck me harder, oh Fuck me harder!" she whimpered.
"Ben's no good, is he?" he whispered, wanting to be reassured in his sex-maddened mind that he was better than anyone, especially her big football hero husband.
Oh God, no, she thought at the mention of her husband. Jamie was right! He was better than Ben! How could I have done this, how could I have betrayed my own husband ... but her questions were unanswered, because she knew that Ben wasn't any good to her in bed. He was like an automatic machine, but Jamie, depraved and homely, was a wild man ... a man who could give the orgasm that she had never experienced before.
"Tell me, bitch! Tell me I'm better than Ben!"
"Oh, God, yes! You're better, you're better! You're the best!" she screamed.
He had won completely! Jamie Barth had won his cruel battle for her soul and now he wasn't about to let her go free. He was going to fuck her until she begged him to stop! Like a crazed animal he drove his jerking cock harder and harder into her hair-covered cunt, feeling like the taut red skin was about to be torn off of his rock-hard flesh. Sweat poured from his naked body and he heard their bellies slapping together in an obscene rhythm of frantic intercourse. She was still tight, but it felt so goddamned good, he thought and drove his pounding prick "into her again ... so good, so goddamned good.
Margie, tears of humiliation and unfulfilled passion in her eyes, could no longer control her lust-maddened body. She thrust her sweating hips up to slam against his pelvis as he sank his throbbing cock deeper into her hot wet quivering pussy. She had done everything that he wished, and now she had to cum! She had to have the one reward of her debasement, wild untamed orgasm!
She felt his long fingers clenching and unclenching frantically at the quivering flesh of her smooth white buttocks, making her whole body tremble with excited anticipation as the tide of orgasm rose in her belly and she felt the first ripples of her long awaited climax. She moaned a long cool moan, a helpless cry for salvation. Forced to fuck by a man, she had been forced to humiliation by the escessive sexual hunger that her body demanded, and now was about to burst as the tormenting pressure built, higher, wider, like a giant balloon. Then, suddenly, without warning, the ripples became waves and she arched her body higher, screaming with passion as the flood of orgasm spread through her jerking body for the first time in her life.
Feeling her buck and arch back, Jamie sensed her climax and let go of his pent up control, letting the white hot sperm swarm from his balls and shoot out from his aching cock in hot fiery jets until he emptied every drop into her open still-thrusting cunt.
She had really been somethin', and he wouldn't forget for a long time, not for a long time, he thought as he rolled off of her a few minutes later, leaving her naked ravaged body unconscious on the couch
* * *
Jamie had been gone for some time when Margie finally awoke. She didn't know when he had gone, or when she had passed out. All she could remember was the terrible degradation and humiliation that she suffered. She remembered yelling about Ben, screaming obscene words, but ... most of all she remembered her climax.
She got off the couch and staggered uncertainly toward the bathroom, her head throbbing so viciously that she thought it would break into a thousand jagged pieces. The climax, the climax, kept running through her hungover mind. Somehow she felt completely different than ever before, more different, even than when she had lost her virginity to Ben when they were in high school.
Now it was as if she were really a woman. Somehow her physical state was more relaxed, more at ease in nudity, she thought as she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. Orgasm had made her a different person ... even if she had been unfaithful, at least she could remember her climax.
In a few minutes she was soaking in the hot bathtub, but it didn't seem to help. She relaxed in wonderment at the memory of her sensational orgasm, but at the same time could not forget that it had been Jamie Barth who had forced that orgasm, to come from the hidden depths of her body, and not her husband who had released her unfulfilled desires. She knew she could never tell Ben what happened but maybe she would be more receptive as a bed partner for him. Maybe it was her fault that she never enjoyed sex with him. After all, she had read in a lot of magazines that a woman's inability to climax was as much her own fault as it was a man's.
She thought of Jamie's massive penis as it had looked to her in the semi-darkness of her living room, and then suddenly remembered the tailpipe. He hadn't told her where it was! Margie sat up in the tub for a moment and shook her head from side to side trying to clear the cobwebs. Oh, God, she rationalized to herself. He promised and I know he'll keep his promise. Tomorrow he'll call and tell me where it is. I just know he will.
Reassured by her own poor naive rationalization, Margie soaped the rag and started to wash her ravaged body when she suddenly heard heavy footsteps outside the bathroom door.
Jamie! She thought, afraid that she was right, but at that moment the door opened and Ben walked through it.
"Hi, baby," he said, his eyes red and framed by dark half-circles.
"Ben! God you scared me. I thought you were a burglar or something."
Ben smiled a weary smile and said simply that he was going to bed.
She smiled as he closed the door and asked herself, why so early? It's only about ten o'clock. Then it hit her.
Ten o'clock Saturday night, their only time for intercourse during the week. So that's why he came home. God, what awful timing, she thought as she winced at the soreness in her aching vagina. Less than an hour ago Jamie had left her exhausted and unconscious on the couch and now her husband had come home early for his weekly piece of her body.
Quickly she rinsed the soap from her armpits and stood up, trying to soothe the sore flesh of her vaginal lips. If she and Ben were going to make love, then she had to be ready, and now, now she knew what an orgasm was and it would be better for both of them. She stepped quickly from the tub and dried herself, powdering her soft, down covered loins and shaking the ugly thoughts of Jamie's naked body from her mind.
When she opened the bedroom door she could see that Ben was lying with only a sheet on his body. Of course, he was waiting for her, she thought, and walked across the room to turn off the light. But before she reached the lamp he threw back the sheet and exposed his limp penis to her.
"Leave the light on," he told her, as he had told her for the last seven years.
"Don't be silly, Ben," she said blushing and pulled the tiny chain. The room went instantly dark and the color left her face. Sometimes Ben can be so crude, she thought as she removed her robe and climbed into his bed beside him. If only he had some modesty.
But Ben didn't care about modesty. Since they had been married he had only seen his wife nude a few times, and that was either when she was taking a bath, covered by bubbles, or simply by accident. He knew from touch that she possessed a magnificent body, but she refused to let him see her nude, and now he no longer cared that much. He would make love to her like he always did and go to sleep. If she wanted to be a fucking prude, then she could stay a fucking prude, he thought bitterly. He would just get his weekly sexual release then let her put her nightgown on like she always did so that he wouldn't see her in the morning. She could spend the night in her own bed after they finished.
Margie felt like a new woman when she got into Ben's bed, and she laid quietly on her back waiting for him to make the first move. Now she would show him what sex really was.
But Ben didn't care, and he rolled over like he always did, quickly and roughly inserting a finger into her vagina to loosen it up for his thick erect penis. He knew that she was always so unresponsive that she never even excited him enough to get a full erection. Eagerly Margie felt the finger enter her vagina and waited with anticipation for the juices to flow like they had for Jamie, but nothing happened. Ben's finger was harsh and rough and it pulled at her with no thought that he might be hurting her. He wasn't like Jamie, gentle and soothing at first....
Jamie, she thought, and pictured his massive cock driving in and out of her eager tortured cunt. Oh My God, get out of my mind and leave me alone! But she knew it was no use. She hated Jamie and never wanted to see him again, but Ben's harsh finger, then his rough entry and heavy breathing had turned her off agiin. To her it was all Ben's fault, though to Ben, she was to blame for their lifeless sexual encounters.
After Ben had finished she climbed out of his bed, put on her nightgown, and got into her own bed. He had failed to satisfy her again, and this time she had been ready. It had to be his fault. What kind of man is he? she thought. After all I went through for him today, he's still as bland as always.
Margie Carney finally fell asleep an hour later with her index finger inserted between the damp hungry lips of her unsatisfied vagina, crying for herself and for her empty marriage that she knew tonight had been changed for all time to come.
CHAPTER THREE
The reds, yellows and blues of the Sunday morning comics lay on Margie's single bed in a disarrayed heap. She stared, unseeing, at them through a thick cloud of cigarette smoke that she exhaled through her full pouting lips. The paper had been read and re-read, but Margie couldn't remember a single word of the smeared black print.
She was alone, as usual.
Though it was Sunday, Ben had turned off his alarm at six-thirty and scrambled out of bed, ready for another day's work. After a shower he had dressed, not knowing that his wife was awake and watching him, then silently left their apartment to search for the hit and run driver that would ensure his partnership in the detective agency.
As soon as he left Margie had tried to go back to sleep, not wanting to think about her adulterous sexual encounter of the previous day, but the memories would not leave her in peace. She couldn't help comparing the wild savagry, the passion, and yet gentle touch of Jamie Barth to the unpolished, unfeeling, mechanical techniques of her husband.
She tried to find escape in the morning newspaper and its colored comics, but the first thing she read was that the police were still searching for the hit and run driver who had killed the teenage girl late Thursday night. They were sure of an arrest before Monday morning, which left Margie even more unsure of herself than she had been before reading the story.
Now everything was mixed up, and fragments of thoughts ricocheted from the long corridors of her mind. There was still the vivid flash of the speeding car and the muffled thump of the child bouncing off the dirty white fender onto the hard dark pavement. Following in sequence were Jamie's call, sounding to her memory like it was spoken in a foreign language; Ben's determination to find the reckless woman who drove the old convertible; Jamie's blackmail and the forciful way he had made love to her, giving her, for the first time, the infinitely beautiful sensation of sexual orgasm; and finally Ben's monotonous efforts to make love to her last night.
One haunting emotion, however, blanketed every event of the past four days: her tremendous sense of guilt.
Margie Carney had always seen herself as a tragic figure in the small history of her life, but she had never done anything to hurt anyone, or to be ashamed of. But now she was guilty of the most horrid crimes she could imagine: Manslaughter, adultery, cowardice and a lack of desire for her own husband's lovemaking.
Frustrated almost to tears because she couldn't cope with her muddled situation and its many contradictions, Margie kicked the newspapers off the bed, at the same time throwing the warm white sheet away from her aching thighs who had seen two men between them the night before. Almost to her surprise she realized that she was nude in the bed, not remembering that she had removed her nightgown after she had brought the paper in from the porch.
She had been sitting cross-legged in the bed, not even noticing that her breasts were exposed and hanging loosely in their fullness as she had read the paper and smoked. Cautiously she brought her hands to the red pointed tips and tested for soreness, hoping that she might encounter the same electric sensation that Jamie had given her when his mouth had eagerly engulfed her nipples the night before. Teasing with a thumb and forefinger, she smiled wonderingly as the tiny sensitive buttons suddenly rose and hardened, pointing straight out from their light brown circles.
Why couldn't Ben do that to her, she thought hopelessly as she felt the tingling spread through the firm resiliant flesh of her well rounded breasts. Somehow it didn't seem fair that he, as her husband, couldn't give her the same exciting pleasure that Jamie had. But at the thought of tall, skinny Jamie Barth, a smoldering fire of shame began to burn again. He had blackmailed her, forced her to submit to his teasing and practically raped her in her own home, leaving finally without even saying anything.
Without saying anything! He hadn't told her where to find the tailpipe before we left, and he hadn't called. She had been so sure the night before, so positive that he would call and tell her, but it was already ten o'clock and not a sound from him.
As she bit her lip in fearful frustration, the sharp pain reminded her of the pain that he had inflicted between her thighs with his hard swollen penis. Unable to concentrate on any one thing for very long, Margie suddenly forgot the tailpipe and centered her sexually aroused attention at the soft furry triangle between her legs. Carefully she slid her hands over the soft rounded curve of her hips and lightly touched the edges of her silken red pubic mound, wondering if the orgasm had changed her appearance.
Clinically, she spread her legs and searched through the soft red hair until her fingers found the outer lips and she cautiously spread them, afraid that there might be some damage. Like a small curious child she lowered her head as far as she could between her open thighs and marveled at the pink inner flesh. It hadn't changed at all, she thought, remembering having looked once before, the night she had given her virginity to Ben. It looked the same as it did then, pinkish and ... moist ... she could see clearly the glistening moisture that she had secreted herself by simply toying with the tiny buttons at the tips of her breasts.
So that was it! That was the change that a single orgasm had instigated in her body. Now she was really a woman, and not just a biological entity existing day to day. Before now only in her dreams of the handsome stranger and his sensuous probing tongue had she felt the sensuous tinglings and warm dampness between her thighs. But after last night, naked on the sofa with a stranger, she could sense the ripples of desire in reality. Perverted or not, Jamie had done one good thing for her!
But why couldn't it have been Ben, she thought, her eyes transfixed on her fingers as they lightly brushed back and forth along the damp pink crevice. Though unaware of her fingers, she still could sense that unmis takablc sensuous tingling that rippled in her thighs. Warm salty tears clouded her deep green eyes as she whispered her husband's name over and over. Why couldn't she feel the tittilating pleasures of sex when he touched her? Why did it have to be a stranger in a dream, or worse, yet, a sex-obsessed mechanic, a depraved blackmailer who forced the hidden desires to surge up from the deepest wells of her body?
Margie let out an uninhibited sob of shame and humiliation as she realized what she was doing to herself, but she hadn't the willpower to stop her hungry fingers as they pressed harder against the sensitive pink flesh between her vaginal lips. She watched her clitoris growing with desire as it appeared from beneath its moist pink shroud, and suddenly realized, though she had never seen it before, nor seen any other, that it had grown larger than normal, resembling a man's tiny penis growing to erection.
A low moan of pleasure slipped from between her lips and she lifted her head and fell back onto the soft blue pillow, at the same time uncrossing her legs and spreading them wide apart. Two fingers of each hand were working their salacious way back and forth across the burning pink flesh of her sparse hair-trimmed vagina and she reveled in the rising tortuous tide of pleasure that coarsed through her lust incited body. They were the dream-stranger's tongue, Jamie's throbbing rock hard prick, and Ben's hot wet mouth all at once, licking, rubbing and sucking at her hot pulsing cunt, forcing her hips to rise up as she arched her back, tears still streaming over her flushed burning cheeks. What was happening to her, a married woman, masturbating because her husband couldn't satisfy her, be cause her passionate desires could only be fullfilled in lewd fantasy or obscene infidelity.
"Ooohhh," she whimpered aloud as the two fingers of one hand suddenly slipped their way into her clasping wet cunt. The strong contracting muscles of her cuntal walls enveloped the two fingers as if they were a rigid male cock and began massaging them with a firm sensuous throbbing that she had never sensed before. She clenched her smooth rounded buttocks and whimpered with delight as the fingers began involuntarily to slowly slide in and out of her yearning hair-covered pussy. It was wrong! It was wrong! Yet she couldn't stop the obscene fingers as they sank their bony lengths as far as they could into the throbbing wet passage, withdraw halfway out and thrust again, deeper and harder with increasing speed. Everything was wrong with her, with her life ... everything ... but she had no control over herself or her sordid circumstance and she shuddered with a deep racking sob of shame and self-degradation.
The teasing fingers drove faster and harder through the open pink passageway as her other hand frantically rubbed her painfully erect clitoris in a frenzied lust-ridden desire to reach the orgasm that she needed so badly. Her tightly clenched eyes were almost blinded by flashing lights of red, yellow and blue that shut out everything else until suddenly....
An intruder!
The blaring ring of the telephone punctuated her pitiful moans of unfulfilled lust, hammering at her ears until she opened her eyes to the sunlight that streamed through the open window.
Slapped in the face by the bright daylight and the harsh shrill telephone, Margie felt herself suddenly pulled into the stark reality of Sunday morning. The hot honied smell of her passion rose from between her twitching thighs and stung her nostrils, forcing her to acknowledge that she was guilty of still another crime, self-abuse.
Ashamed and humiliated that she had been caught by the telephone in an animal passion, she let out a sob as a new flood of tears streamed over her flushed cheeks and her strong prudish modesty forced her to grab the sheet and pull it over the still tingling flesh of her slender exposed body. Then slowly she turned and lifted the bedside telephone from its receiver.
"Where the hell have you been?" Ben's angry voice struck at her ear. "The phone's rung a dozen times!"
Stifling her pent up desire to break down crying and confess everything ... the hit and run, the blackmail, the infidelity, the masturbation, everything ... Margie choked and told him that she had been in the shower and hadn't heard the beckoning ring. Ben accepted her explanation and gave her his message: he wouldn't be home for a couple of days because of new leads in the case.
Alone, she thought. Alone! Alone! Alone! When she needed him most he was going to leave her alone and helpless to cope with the forces that were changing her life so rapidly that she felt like a complete stranger to herself.
After a moment's more conversation and instructions, Ben hung up with a curt "good-bye", sealing the black door of communication between them.
Margie listened to the dial-tone for more than a minute while her confused thoughts hammered for a solution. Why couldn't she just come right out and tell him, open her tortured soul to him for comfort and help? She did really love him, but something held her back: a fear, nameless and beyond understanding-a fear that had made her submit to Jamie Barth in order to save her husband's profession-she was trapped in a horrible cesspool of lies and more lies until there was no way out!
Depressed and trampled by her own guilt-ridden thoughts, Margie slowly replaced the receiver and laid back onto her defiled bed. She watched the sunrays dance through the light flakes of dust in the air, but could see no joy in their celebration. Hopeless was the only word she could think of as she slipped into a deep sleep, the first she had had in what seemed like an eternity.
* * *
Blind!
Margie sat up in the bed with a start. The total darkness of the room had deceived her sleep-fogged vision when she first awoke, not realizing that she had slept through the entire day. A blurred glow caught her attention and she focused on the luminous dial of the alarm clock which told her that it was twenty minutes past nine.
God, I've slept for hours, she thought, amazed. She half-recalled unrelated flashes of dreams: the stranger again, the accident, Jamie, Ben, and a bizarre composite of her husband's career, completely destroyed until he was forced to leave the city and take a job as a prison guard ... at the prison where she was held behind bleak grey bars awaiting execution.
Shuddering at the recollection, Margie quickly caught hold of her wandering imagination and turned on the lamp. She winced at the bright light and closed her eyes to let them adjust to the glare, and made a resolution to herself. Sleep had given her the courage that she so desperately needed, and she knew that no matter what, she would get that piece of tailpipe from Jamie and destroy it. The rusted metal tube was the only link that could possibly convict her for her crime, and it would have to be destroyed for Ben's sake. He wouldn't have to suffer because of her hideous crime. She would make sure of that, no matter what it cost her.
An hour later, fresh from a hot bath and her newfound courage, Margie was nipping through a glamour magazine and nibbling at a ham sandwich when her attention was rudely diverted to the doorbell. A few quick steps and she was at the door, unlatching the safety chain, and somehow knowing who was on the other side.
"You don't look surprised," Jamie observed as he looked at the expressionless face of the young housewife who stood in front of him framed by the soft light of a lamp behind her.
"I'm not," she replied curtly. "I wondered when you'd call. I tried to call you, but you're not listed in the phone book."
"It's safer that way," Jamie winked and walked past her into the living room. Margie closed the door behind her and followed him into the room. She watched his slender back as he stood by the couch remembering the exciting sexual intercourse that they had had little more than twenty-four hours ago. She knew that he had already stripped her mentally and was ready for another sexual bout, but unless she was forced, she would not submit to his lascivious touch again.
"I'll have a beer," he told her as he turned to look at her sensuous silhouette framed by the light of the lamp.
But Margie didn't care to be hospitable. Her every thought, every motion was guided by her determination to get the evidence that he held, evidence that could destroy not just herself, but her husband.
"No, Jamie," she said confidently, as if she were a disciplinarian reprimanding a child. "We don't have time for drinks. We've got business to take care of, and it's your turn to live up to your end of the bargain. I certainly did my part!"
So that's it, Jamie thought as he stared at her almost in disbelief. The bitch is trying to be the high and mighty Margie Carney again, huh?! Well, two can play at this game, but I'll be the winner!
"Sure, I know, Margie," he said. "That's what I came for, but I thought you might like to have a little drink, too."
"No, as soon as I get the pipe, our relationship will be over."
Jamie wanted to hit her, slap her wise-ass mouth shut, but instead he said: "Well, O.K., if that's the way you feel. I just thought we could still be friends."
"We never were," Margie said sharply, her arms folded across her full breasts like a defiant gladiator. She knew that victory was hers. It was obvious that Jamie didn't have the courage to back up his threat about the police, and her confidence increased as she continued her stiff-lipped offensive.
"Now give me the pipe," she ordered.
"Sure, sure, Margie. Goddamn, there's no reason to get pissed off," he said defensively using the obscene phrase to irritate her. "Get your coat and we'll go get it."
For a moment her confidence faultered. In her own living room, comforted by the familiar surrounding and spurred by determination, she knew that she could keep him at bay, but out of the house in the dark her courage might falter.
"W-Why didn't you bring it?" she asked.
"'Cause I don't wanna be caught with it," he answered quickly. "Come on, get your coat. It won't take long; it's just a few minutes to my place and you don't have to worry because I live with my mother."
Encouraged by his seemingly sincere tone of voice, Margie did as he said and followed him in her car. She thought it was foolish for him to worry about getting caught with the pipe in his car, but maybe he was more of a coward than she thought. I'm the one who should worry about being stopped by the police she thought and felt her heart quicken at the picture of a uniformed officer holding her by the arm. She felt like a thief or a smuggler about to go on his first job, not quite knowing what to expect.
Ten minutes after leaving her apartment she stood uncertainly in the darkness of his front porch as he fumbled with a key and unlocked the door. As he shoved it open, Margie heard a weak straining voice call out from the darkness.
"Is that you, Jamie?"
"Yeah, Mom," he answered and led Margie down the hallway to where he slid two heavy oak panels apart to reveal a dimly-lit living room and his aged mother.
"You're early," the older woman said, surprised that her son was home before three o'clock in the morning.
Jamie nodded and took Margie's hand, leading her into the room. He introduced her to his mother, who was glad her son had brought such a pretty girl home with him. Then like a dutiful mother she excused herself, saying that she had to get her rest.
"You children enjoy yourselves," Margie heard her say, and felt sorry for the poor woman because she didn't know that her son was the kind of man who would force a married woman to commit adultery because he had some horrible hold over her.
Margie said that she couldn't stay long, then watched as Jamie helped his mother up the stairs to her bedroom. She watched the two pairs of feet as they ascended the dark stairs that were guarded by a heavy hand-carved banister. It seemed so unfair that a cowardly person like Jamie should live in such a beautiful old house, she thought as she looked about her at the dark woodwork and old, nearly antique, furniture. If only she and Ben could live in a warm, cozy house like this ... maybe after his promotion.
Margie was thinking about Ben's partnership in the detective agency when Jamie came back into the room. Absorbed with the idea that Ben would be promoted even if he didn't solve the hit and run case, she didn't notice the change in Jamie's face until he spoke to her.
"Have a drink," he said sharply as if commanding rather than asking. Margie looked at him in surprise. He wouldn't dare, not with his own mother just upstairs, she thought as her eyes glanced fertively around the room for some kind of reassurance, but her gaze stopped at the heavy oak panels. He had closed them!
"I said, have a drink," he repeated and held out an empty glass to her.
Her jaw began trembling imperceivably, and for lack of anything else to do, she took the glass and held it while he poured it half full of bourbon. One drink won't hurt. Then I can get the tailpipe and get out of here, she thought and downed the glass in one swallow, wincing at the bitter alcohol as it burned all the way down to her uneasy stomach.
"One's enough," she said as he held the bottle out to pour her another. "I've got to go now, so let me have the pipe."
"Oh, yeah, your tail-uh, pipe," he said, hoping he'd frightened her. "We'll get that in a little while. First have another drink."
Something in the back of her mind told her she had better not offend him, and she held out the glass while he poured it completely full. Already the hundred proof bourbon was beginning to work on her overwrought senses. This isn't why I came, she thought dizzily, suddenly aware that the room was very hot. She had come for the evidence that would free her and Ben from Jamie's clutches, not to start drinking again like she had done all day yesterday.
"Lemme have your coat," he said and she murmured something, setting her glass on a table.
As if it were all by arrangement, she let him take her lightweight coat from her, pausing for longer than necessary with his large thin hand on her soft smooth shoulder. She could feel the heat from his palm generating through the thin material of her bright summer dress, and rather than jerk away, she, too, paused. What was she doing here with him, she thought with uncertainty, her courage and determination quickly disappearing to a secluded corner of her fuzzy mind. Somehow she knew that there was another reason for being alone with Jamie Barth, but the alcohol clouded the images that flashed before her hazed vision, and she couldn't remember her purpose.
Jamie didn't know that the bourbon had such a startling effect on the defenseless young housewife, un aware that the only thing she had eaten all day was a bite or two from the cold ham sandwich she had been eating when he had arrived at her apartment. As far as he was concerned, he had screwed her so well the night before that she wanted him to do it again, but was afraid to say so. Well, afraid or not, she'd pay for playing around with him and making him wait.
"Before you get that tailpipe, you and I are going to have a cozy little talk," he said while he sneered obscenely at her.
The tailpipe! Of course, she remembered, that's why I'm here.
"I don't have time," she said, surprised that she was slurring her words. "I've got to get home."
Not believing that the bourbon could have effected her speech already, but suddenly unsure of herself, Margie waited impatiently for him to answer her. She could see his sardonic grin clearly enough, but suddenly realized that she was afraid to try to walk. If she faltered, it would be all too obvious to both of them that she was drunk and helpless. A quick memory of his tittilating teasing from the night before flashed through her hazy mind, and she shivered at the sudden fearful chill that shot through her spine.
"Come 'ere," he said and grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward him. He didn't have to be so rough, she thought, feeling his free arm encircle the small of her back and hold her soft, pliant torso against his bony frame. There was no question in her frightened mind about what he wanted, but she'd sworn to herself earlier that she'd do anything to get that pipe back, and by God she would, no matter what.'
"So, you want that pipe, huh? Well, I'll tell you baby, you're gonna have to pay for it," he told her through clenched teeth. "Last night was just a down payment, cause you pissed me off. No bitch orders me around like you did an hour ago. No one! Understand!"
Even through the alcoholic blanket that warmed her tanned body she could sense that he was fiercely angry. Margie, trembling at her own humiliation, knew that she would let him make love to her again; she'd already made her decision about that-but now his overconfidence and rude manners frightened her. His angry red eyes shouted an unspoken hatred for women, especially Margie Carney, and she knew that if she wasn't careful, he might hurt her worse than anything she could imagine.
"But, Jamie, I didn't mean to sound like I was bossing you," she said, painfully aware of his tight grip. It's just that I thought we made a deal and I thought that you wanted to give me the tailpipe."
For a few short seconds there was an unearthly silence, as he carefully weighed her defense. It was possible she meant what she said, he thought, that she actually didn't mean to be telling him what to do. But she was a woman, and couldn't really be trusted. Only a test would prove her sincerity. Besides, she was a wild screw, and he wanted to get as much of her as he could before he gave her back the evidence.
"Sure, a deal's a deal," he said, trying to mask his uneasiness with a calmer tone of voice. "But you were such a wild little piece of ass last night, I want to try you out just one more time."
Oh, no, she thought through her alcoholic haze. Her unconscious mind didn't want to allow him to touch her again, though she realized that it was the horribly high price that she would have to pay for the hidden evidence that could destroy her life. Unwillingly she knew that part of her wanted him to strip her, throw her helplessly on that floor and sink his rock-hard penis into the hot, deep cavern between her thighs-and bring out the animalistic passion that had released her orgasm the night before.
"W-Well, if you r-really want to," she stuttured finally, knowing that she had to submit to his depraved demands so that he wouldn't hurt her. "It's fine with me, but where do you think we should go?"
"Right here!" he said anxiously.
No, she thought, not here! Not with his mother only a few feet away in the upstairs bedroom! My God, how could he ... but the pressure of his arm around her slim waist told her that he was serious-and she knew that she had to do what he said.
"Take off your clothes," he said with a lurid grin.
"Oh, no, Jamie, no ... please," she whispered frantically, the bourbon forcing her to slur her trembling words. Her excessively prudish mind revolted at the thought of him seeing her naked ... in the light this way. She wouldn't allow even her husband to look at her nude, let alone a stranger like Jamie. She tried quickly to think of an excuse to turn off the light. "What if your mother came in and saw us!"
Jamie smiled, knowing that his mother wouldn't bother them. The prudish little bitch wants to fuck in the dark! But he wanted to feast his eyes on that sensuous little body and see the naked, supple flesh that he'd fucked so wildly last night bending around him. O.K., he thought to himself, we'll play your little game for a minute, then we'll go by my rules.
"Yeah, you're right," she heard him say and felt his arm slowly release her. She stood unsteadily while he walked over to the wall and flicked off the light-and then listened to the rustle of his clothing as he quickly undressed in the dark. There's no getting out of it, she thought, and slipped the dress over her head, nearly falling because of her drunken imbalance. She "shivered slightly as her full rounded breasts fell free into the cool openness of the darkened room. Margie could see a vague male silhouette standing in front of her as she dropped her bra to the floor, waiting for the inevitable touch of his rough hands.
The shadowy form suddenly grasped her naked flesh, sending a frightened chill through her spine. She trembled as the icy fingers slipped over her hips and slid her black lace bikini panties down the curved length of her long, smooth thighs and easily pulled them from her trim ankles.
I have to do it, her dazed mind chanted, I have to do it! But, as the chilling fingers pulled the panties away, a warm moist tongue pricked salaciously at her trembling thighs and then across her firm, flat stomach ... and she shamefully acknowledged to herself that her body wanted the depraved Jamie to take her again, just as he had done in her own living room only twenty-four hours again. What had made her do it? What?
A low rumble came from his lips as he opened his mouth and enveloped the thrusting nipple of one of her quivering breasts. He sucked at the growing bud gently and began easing her naked body down to the deep red pile carpet, sliding his own skinny frame on top of her. The now familiar tingling rippled through her trembling loins, and involuntarily her hands rose to his head and ran through his long black curly hair, pulling him harder against her tightening breasts.
Margie bit her lower lip as the fearful knowledge of her infidelity struck at her again, whispering condemning obscenities at her half-drunk, half-conscious mind. Whore! Whore! Her conscience shouted at her and at the same time flashed the lewd memories of her dream I lover and his exciting tongue, Jamie and his ecstatic cock, and the lascivious self-masturbation that she had gone through earlier. She wanted to cry, to scream at her humiliation, but the flashing memories were more like pornographic pictures than reminders of debauchery as she felt the rippling sensations of Jamie's sucking tongue quiver through her lust-incited breasts. Somehow she had to rationalize, to excuse her adulterous acts-quietly telling herself that it was for Ben, that she had made her resolution to do anything to save him from defamation. It was all-right ... all-right ... and the tiny trickle of blood that she tasted from her bitten lips assured her that she was really being punished for her adulterous infidelity. Yes, she was being punished, and somehow everything would balance out.
"Yeah, Baby, you're oaky," Jamie panted as he lifted his head from her quivering breasts. He knew she was just like all the rest of the women in his life, eager and willing to be fucked by his massive throbbing cock, but she was more exciting than the others because she was married and claimed that she loved her husband.
He sneered to himself in the dark as the thought of this sweet young thing being an adulteress urged his own excitement to rise even further. She was married to someone else, and yet couldn't resist Jamie Barth, me, he thought-and pushed the pulsing head of his lust-maddened cock against the soft, tender flesh of her trembling ivory thighs.
She whimpered in shame as her hands involuntarily slipped from his head and roamed over his back, dragging their painted pink fingernails across his pale white skin like tiny daggers. Feeling the burning fingernails dig into his flesh, he felt a new surge of power rush through his aching loins, and he pressed his hardened cock forward until the rubbery tip rested against the soft silken red fuzz that covered her faithless vagina. Unable to control herself, she sobbed as her searching fingers ran involuntarily over the clenching flesh of his buttocks and slipped around his hips to grasp the twitching, rock-hard flesh of his huge prick.
He inhaled the sensuous odor of her perfume as he felt the warmth of her palm envelop his swollen, jerking cock-and he crushed his mouth against her full red open lips, plunging his stiff wet tongue into the unresisting open heat of her mouth.
Screaming for release as tiny fires of excited passion danced over her flushed skin, her body jerked and pushed upwards against him ... completely oblivious of her mind's rational commands to stop. She drunkenly sensed the remembered animalistic, passion that had given her the first electric orgasm and she wanted to feel it again. NOW! ... even though she knew that it was wrong.
Her disobedient hand was wrapped around her tormentor's cock, milking the throbbing shaft to even greater heights of lusty excitement, though her dazed and frightened conscience begged her to stop. Somehow the hot flaccid skin she pulled back and forth over the rubbery pulsing head was more sensuous and exciting than anything she had ever felt with her husband. It was a naked, aching cock ... eager to fuck her ... it wasn't Ben's! ... but she needed it ... oh, yes, she needed it.
"Oh, yeah, Baby," he whispered in her ear as her soft milking hand slid over the smooth, rubbery head of his throbbing cock Man, she really loved it; she wanted to be fucked, he thought, and freed his hands to wander excitedly over the guilt-ridden young wife's sweating flesh.
Pinching and pulling at her quivering nakedness, his hands glided swiftly to their mark ... the moist, pink lips that lay hidden in the soft silken forest of her pubic mound. Down, between the trembling eager thighs until ... there, moist and silken, the red pubic hairs seemed to reach out for the calloused tips of his searching fingers.
Tingling, aching for his touch, the pink flaccid lips involuntarily spread beneath the soft curling hair and let his searching fingers into the hot, damp crevice and brush against the already erect bud of her throbbing clitoris. It felt so good, so good, Margie thought as the fingers rubbed slowly over the hardened red bud, but then suddenly her mind flashed the picture, the obscene picture, of herself in bed ... masturbating. Wrong, wrong, no matter how good it felt, she knew immediately that it was all wrong, and not thinking about her resolution to get the tailpipe-she jerked away from the tantalizing fingers.
Rejection! Jamie rose up from the naked girl in the dark, angered almost to tears that she really didn't want to fuck, that she was only using him to get the pipe.
"You bitch!" he shouted and got up from the rug and walked across the room. Margie listened to his footsteps, they heard the frightful click of the switch as he flipped on the bright accusing light, exposing her nudity to his angry, flashing eyes.
"Jamie, please don't," she pleaded and tried to cover her nakedness with her small dainty hands. Now she was completely exposed in her sexual crime, naked in the light and accused of adultery, the unforgiveable sin!
Modesty and infidelity, an incongruous contradiction, forced the trembling girl to lower her shameful head with a loud racking sob. Clouded with tears and alcohol, her eyes gazed at her naked thighs as she sat up on the rug. Ben, oh Ben, she prayed silently. How could I do this to you? How? She wanted the pipe; she wanted to save him from a terrible shock. But now she was afraid of the passions that still boiled in her sensuous, aroused flesh ... the passions that could destroy her. The light was on, exposing her, but she knew that she would submit anyway.
Jamie, however, didn't know and didn't care what she was thinking. She had teased him, made him believe that she really wanted to be fucked, and then rejected him. Now she would pay, he swore. She was a whore, just like any other bitch, and he would force her to bow to his depraved punishment of her body.
Staring at her naked thighs, Margie suddenly saw Jamie's feet standing only a few inches from her on the thick rug. Slowly her eyes traveled up his skinny legs until she saw the massive throbbing prick that jutted straight out from his hair-covered groin, God, it was even bigger in the glaring light, she thought as her eyes widened-and then she was suddenly aware of the rekindled fires of desire that still smouldered in her warm, damp pussy. That's what almost drove her insane last night. That's the huge prick that had triggered the first explosive orgasm of her life!
"If you wanna play games, you little bitch, then we're gonna play my games!" he shouted and grabbed her full head of red hair, pulling her abruptly to her feet.
"OWwwww," she wailed, her prudish hands leaving their protective covers and reaching for her scalp. "Jamie, Jamie, you don't understand. Please stop!"
"I understand, all right," he growled and pushed her halfway across the room onto the old sofa. "And now you're going to understand something else!"
Margie fell into the corner of the couch, holding her hair and leaving her firm, still-excited breasts and pubic mound completely exposed. She whimpered in pain and fear as he came toward her, his eyes burning with anger. Why didn't he understand? Why didn't they all understand? It was obvious that something was wrong with her, but how could she tell him? That she wanted him, but was so ashamed of herself because of Ben....
"Jamie, Jamie, please listen," she begged, knowing that she had to think of something fast or she might never see daylight again.
"It's not you, not you. It's just that I'm scared of ... sex, Jamie, really. Y-You do things that my husband has never done to me before ... and it scares me. I-I'm just so, afraid," she whimpered as tears started to roll down her flushed cheeks.
Oh, God, she thought as she sobbed aloud. Margie had wanted to lie to him, but had really told the truth, or at least, part of it. She waanted to think that Ben was the real reason for her sudden rejection, but knew that he was only a small part of it. She really was afraid of what Jamie did to her, because he'd brought out exciting sensations in her that she had never dreamed possible. She was afraid of being really sexually alive and uninhibited, uninhibited to the point where her life might never be the same!
He knelt on the couch beside her, his underdeveloped mind wondering if she were telling the truth when suddenly the humiliated girl reached out with one hand and firmly enveloped the pulsing red tip of his cock. Through tear-filled eyes, Margie watched her long slender fingers slide along the rigid shaft to the wide thick base and back again, trying to hypnotize herself with the lewd, rhythmic strokes. The truth was out and she had no course but to submit to his debased desires. Somehow there had to be a reason for her obsession with orgasm, but it was beyond her reach and she tried to dismiss her questioning, concentrating strictly on the salacious stroking of her long fingers.
Jamie realized that she wanted to show him that she was telling the truth, that she really couldn't resist him! So, she was a slave to his huge, demanding cock, he thought. I'll fix her ass for good and then she'll never be able to say no to me again!
Completely ashamed by her humiliating admission, Margie continued to stroke the jerking cock, her tortured and confused mind wondering how it felt to him. Then, she felt him suddenly pull at her shoulders, forcing her to let go of the huge throbbing prick-and then he turned her over and forced her face down into the soft cushions of the divan. He was the master and she, the slave who would do anything he commanded!..
Still not understanding what he wanted, she lowered her pounding head to the comfort of the soft cushion and tried to dry her tears when a salacious ripple of pleasure suddenly shot all the way from the tender backs of her trembling thighs to the warm confines of her now pulsating vagina. Lying on her stomach, she realized that he was climbing on top of her, dragging his hot pulsing cock along the insides of her partially spread thighs.
Why? She asked herself silently, sensing the throbbing organ's rubbery tip as it slid along her trembling flesh, burning a fresh path of obscene desire in its wake. The damp pink lips of her cunt opened involuntarily, expecting to be met by the massive jerking prick, but somehow she understood that they would be disappointed.
Margie bit her lip and raised the upper part of her torso so that her breasts swayed helplessly beneath her. It was no use, and she knew it. Her willpower had been smashed by the bourbon and her own humiliation and she obeyed the commands that issued from her trembling, tittilated flesh.
Now the hot rubbery tip slid to the long pink crevice that separated the quivering white orbs of her virginal buttocks and she began to understand what he was about to do. Once, twice, the rock-hard shaft pushed at the damp crevice, searching for the tiny evasive elastic ring that hid between the perspiring orbs.
Oh, God, no! her conscious mind begged.
She had submitted to his demands last night and tonight, but why this? Why did he want to do it to her there?!! Hadn't he done enough to degrade her just by forcing her to do it the regular way? What's the matter with me, she thought, why don't I scream for help, or try to escape? Why?
It was for Ben! Yet it wasn't for Ben! Not realizing it, she was panting as she felt the swollen twitching cock probe at the rubbery red ring of her tiny untouched anus, searching for the key that would unlock the virginal orifice and force her to accept the sadistice intrusion.
Pain, pleasure; pain, pleasure circled through her drunken mind as beads of sweat poured off her body. Each confusing thought of the two contradicting words cued her tiny sphincter and it clenched and unclenched in rhythm with her heartbeat, seeming to grasp at the burning red tip of the rock hard cock and pull it towards her untouched anus. She heard him grunt, then suddenly felt him throw his arms around her, grab her firm jiggling breasts, and pull her up and around to face him.
"Too tight," he panted. "Need it wet."
At first she didn't understand what he meant, but the depraved obsessed look in his burning eyes gave her the terrifying message. Oh, God, he was so cruel! she whimpered to herself, but before she could protest he grabbed her head and pushed it against his groin.
"Hurry," he commanded and the helpless girl knew that there was no way to refuse. Cautiously she parted her full red lips and eased her tongue out of her mouth. She had never seen a man's cock so close, none that is, except her dream-stranger's. Now she was face to face with a hot jerking rod of flesh ordered to wet it with her mouth. God, how ugly, how awful, she sobbed to herself, but the pressure of his hands pressed her against the pulsing red tip. She was nothing! Here was a man who was going to sodomize her, and she was doing nothing about it, nothing except lubricating his huge instrument with her trembling mouth.
"It'll hurt worse if ya don't," he told her through his tightly clenched teeth.
She let out a humiliated moan and flicked out her long pink tongue to wet the burning tip with her own saliva. It didn't taste that bad, but God, how could anyone do such a terrible thing, she thought through a drunken haze. And then, guided by his strong hands, she quickly ran the length of her tongue along the hot pulsing prick. She could taste the sweetness and nothing else ... Ben, she thought half-crazy with fear and desire. I wonder what Ben would taste like. As if she were detached from reality she continued to lick at the twitching shaft, thinking of her husband, of her infidelity and what it really meant. None of her life was thighs and the terrible knowledge that in spite of her real; none of it except the throbbing ache between her horror of it, she was becoming a depraved sexual maniac like the man hovering above her.
"Christ!" he groaned and suddenly pushed her away, turning her body with his strong sinewy hands and forcing her to lie face down on the couch again.
She knew that he had almost cum, and shuddered as she imagined his white burning sperm filling her mouth. Maybe if he had come in her mouth, he wouldn't rape her back there. After all, swallowing it couldn't be as bad as sodomy, she thought as she felt him slither between her wide-spread thighs, once again, and quickly guide the huge throbbing cock to the tight red hairless ring.
It waas too big! No, she couldn't let him do it to her there; he'd split her open! She rotated her upraised hips frantically trying to escape the probing hot penis, but only managed to lodge the wet burning head at the elastic entrance of her untouched anus. It was wet, lubricated all right, but she couldn't take it. It was too big! Then suddenly a hand slid from her slender waist, over her firm flat belly and quickly through the soft red pubic hairs to the bud of her swollen clitoris. She gasped at the exciting light touch and jerked her buttocks backwards, feeling the hot pointed red tip gain a small foothold in her defensively clenching anus. It wasn't fair, no it wasn't fair! He couldn't do it to her ... but the finger ... feels so good ... no ... no!!
"Please," she pleaded, wanting him to stop but unable to move away. Her swollen clitoris, practically unknown to her until yesterday, was the true master of her sex-starved body. It guided her physical being, un caring about her mental refusal, wanting only the sexual gratification that she had been denied for so many years. Now it ordered her frightened buttocks to relax, and without hesitation, the tiny sphincter loosened its precarious hold on her tight defenseless rectum.
A second, two seconds, and the swollen pulsing cock pushed slightly forward.
"Oh, oh," she gasped in stifled painful breaths and shook her round smooth buttocks, making the delighted white orbs shoot rapid, hot shocks of sexual electricity through her helpless body. Strange! Obscene! Perverted! Her long-ago-learned prudery shouted at her, but went unheard as the swollen rigid prick shoved forward against her defenseless anus. It hurts, oh God it hurts! What if Ben were here now, watching? Would he see the blank stare of submissive passion on her tormented face as she tried to screw back against the intruding prick? Would he listen or try to help her? She was doing it for him, she sobbed to herself, knowing instead that she needed Jamie's cock more than Ben needed his partnership. The cock was nearly inside her elastic young anus and Margie didn't want it to stop, not really!
"Aaarrgghhhh!" she suddenly moaned in a mixture of masochistic pain and ecstatic pleasure. "Stop, Oh God, it hurts! Please stop!"
She jerked her quivering white buttocks to one side, then the other in an effort to stop the fiery pain that grew hotter as he pushed his slim hips forward with a choking grunt. The pain! It was too much, more than she expected and she howled as her upraised buttocks squirmed helplessly in a futile effort to escape the hideous rape of her virginal anus. Shamed by her own newfound wanton desires and the obscene sex-ridden thoughts that raced through her dazed tormented mind, she began to sob uncontrollably. Whore! Whore! She was nothing more than a common whore, but she was even worse ... she was a faithless married woman.
Jamie listened to her whimpering sobs with sadistic desire as he rested inside her dark, clamping rectum. The thick fat head of his pulsing cock was more than six inches deep in her ravaged oriface and his free hand toyed with the hard swollen clitoris that tormented her so ruthlessly. Kneeling behind her, he knew that he had won another victory over the helpless young wife, and he slowly began to push the massive prick further into her tight ravaged channel.
It hurts! It hurts! rumbled through her mind as she felt the massive driving cock sink another agonizing inch into her tortured clasping anus, stretching it beyond all limits of endurance. It should hurt, she moaned to herself. It should split her open and punish her for her infidelity, for manslaughter, and most of all it should punish her for the masochistic pleasure that she suddenly felt rising in her lust-incited loins!
Pushing slowly, painfully backwards, Margie in her masochistic passion tried to ease more of the giant cock into her tight clasping rectum and her heartbeat registered the steady thump, thump, thump of continual pain as she screwed herself back onto the rigid shaft.
The perverted mechanic began a lewd undulation with his slim hips, trying to match the steady groping pressure of her slowly thrusting white buttocks. Sliding slowly and evenly, his aching wet cock pushed forward as it sank deeper into the ravaged damp oriface, almost overcome with pain as its flexible purplish skin stretched to its absolute limit. He'd never had a hard on like this one, he thought; never as big or as hard and it was killing him with ecstatic painful desire.
Helplessly skewered by the hard rotating prick, she thought she would be split in half and moaned piteously for him to stop, knowing instinctively that he wouldn't. Punished! she thought, shamed by her own pleasure. I've got to be punished! But the pain was quickly receding, leaving the quivering white orbs of her buttocks and tightly strained muscles of her back passage, only to be replaced by a strange lewd sensation that rippled shamelessly within the deep warm confines of her soft elastic rectum. The obscene desire was growing rapidly, and she could vaguely feel her pulsing clitoris joining the re-kindled sexual fire as Jamie began building a tittilating pressure in her trembling loins with his insistant rubbing finger.
Eagerly she obeyed when he tugged at her long slender legs, forcing her to lie flat on her belly instead of kneeling like a bitch in heat with her quivering buttocks swaying obscenely in the air. The smooth softness of the couch, the savage hardness of his ravaging cock both engulfed her quivering body at the same time, making her lust-maddened nerves ripple with wave after wave of wild sensuous torment as her slowly undulating hips sucked the thick rhythmic cock deeper and deeper inside her clasping rectum. His hard pelvis smacked against the tender white orbs of her trembling buttocks, crushing her firm round breasts downward into the couch. The trembling cheeks crushed by his weight, would spring back to life when he pulled away from her, then suddenly deflate again when he drove the massive throbbing prick deeper inside her tight, hairless little hole. The pain had completely disappeared, replaced by an insatiable flaming desire, but her dazed mind still demand punishment. She had fallen into a thick mire of degradation, the lowest form of sexual slavery and she wanted to pay for it with her masochistic pleasure, a pleasure she wanted to regret. She grunted almost hysterically in her defilement and wished for more of the stabbing, thrusting cock, more, more, more
"Oh, oh, oh," she howled as he drove the savage prick inside her tortured anus. "Harder, further, Oh! Fuck me harder! Oh God Fuck Me Harder!"
Her begging plea beat at his lust-maddened brain and he began to stroke more frantically, plunging his aching obsessed cock deep into her ravaged bowels. She grunted as her clasping rectum filled again and again with the rock-hard shaft, then felt his fingers rubbing, tearing viciously at the rigid red bud of her insanely jerking clitoris. There was nothing left in the world for her but the frenzied fucking, the awful sodomy of this degenerate. Now she was naked, raped and uninhibited ... completely alone in the world except for the driving cock back between the dancing white cheeks of her tender buttocks.
Jamie had widened her tiny elastic hole until he had an almost easy entry, sliding in and out more rapidly as his white seeping semenal juices lubricated the ravaged passageway.
Out of control with insane desire, Margie's long slender calves shot up vertically from her knees and flailed helplessly on either side of her. They twitched spastically, loosening her ravaged anus even more, and allowing the depraved sodomist to slam another smashing blow with his hips against the trembling cheeks of her helpless bottom, driving the last inch of his lust-maddened cock deep into her savagely raped bowels.
She winced painfully at the sudden masochistic pleasure that shot through her obsessed loins and groaned softly. It felt so good ... he just couldn't stop, he just couldn't!
Helpless and maddened by the tremendous prick that skewered her defenseless virginal rectum, the girl felt that she had achieved the ultimate degrading punishment for her multitude of unforgivable sins. She was flat on her stomach, her white sweating buttocks bucking spastically in the air while he slammed his massive aching cock into her with all his crazed strength, fucking her like a dog. Back! Around! Faster! she commanded her frenzied hips as she threw herself like a trapped animal on the couch, exciting him even more with her frantic jerking buttocks.
"Oh, Fuck!" she screamed, exciting herself to the ultimate breaking point by the obscenity as much as she excited him.
Now!
The pressure, the growing balloon of sexual ecstasy filled with the blood in her abdomen as it readied its explosion for the final release into her aching vaginal muscles.
Suddenly the balloon burst like an oilwell, and all her crime, all her punishment was blotted out by a single blow as she jerked spastically, throwing her helpless legs out to the side and the white electric shocks of orgasm tore at her brain. Snapping like a bull-whip, her body convulsed with the brutal crash of climax as it hit at the very center of her being, then flooded her untouched, yearning pussy with the hot flowing juices of a woman fulfilled and rewarded for her obscene pleasures and pains.
Jamie felt the raw burning liquid spew from her jerking cunt onto his hand that rubbed so viciously at her excited swollen clitoris. Yeah, he'd made her come by fucking her in the ass, but she wasn't done yet, not by a long shot, he grinned obscenely to himself.
Both of his hands quickly sought her well-rounded hips and drew her roughly up toward him, while at the same time he leaned back and watched his thrusting cock, making sure it wouldn't come out of her ravaged backside until he was done with her.
Dazeed by the alcohol and still feeling the final rumblings of her earth shattering climax, Margie obediently lifted her hips as he pulled roughly at her soft resilient skin. The two white moons of her buttocks quivered from the force of her climax and were separated by the sweating pink crevice between them. Crazed with frenzied sexual excitement, Jamie looked down at the trembling orbs and the helpless girl's anus where the rigid shaft of his huge throbbing cock still rested.
Watching as if he were hypnotized by the obscene spectacle, he slowly began to slide his aching reddened prick in and out of the hairless oriface, sucking lewdly as it moved back and forth. He'd forced her to be fucked in the ass just like so many others who had thought he was a nobody. Now it was she, a nobody, who had been defiled and degraded by his sexual power and strength.
"Yeah, bitch, you loved it," he mused as he kneaded the pliant flesh of her smooth white buttocks with his calloused fingers.
The girl moaned in drunken ecstasy and began to slowly roll her hips from side to side as the sadistic rapist sunk his pulsing cock in and out of her helpless tortured bottom. She gasped at the renewed pain, then slowly rolled her hips again, only to be widened once more by the ravaging cock. But it didn't make any difference to the debauched young wife. She had paid for her crimes, her infidelity, her lust and though she still felt the tingling ripples that could bring yet another savage climax, she knew that she could get the tailpipe back, especially if ... if she made him come there, in her tight clasping rectum. She had to do it!
But now there was the tearing pain again, and the girl tried to relax her ravaged anus even more as he grabbed her loosely hanging breasts and began pulling her trembling buttocks back against him as he thrust forward.
He looked at her pain-racked face as she squirmed helplessly on the couch, but paid no attention to the clenched cheek muscles and flow of humiliated tears. He felt the rubbery walls of her tortured rectum clasping and sucking at his massive penis as he drove harder into her tormented backside. It was still too tight, tighter than any pussy, and it made his prick feel like it was being scrubbed by a hard, rough brush.
The tight muscles in his thrusting buttocks flexed spasmodically as he smashed against the helpless white flesh of her undulating behind. Clinging to her full jiggling breasts, he continued to pull her back, making the poor helpless girl feel like an animal being used for experimental sexual perversion. Driving, thrusting, ramming into her tiny elastic anus, the obsessed maniac widened the rubbery red ring until it was ready to split open, but he refused to stop the brutal onslaught.
He panted obsceneties as he fucked savagely at her quivering backside, slipping both hands around her rounded hips so that he could spread the ravaged opening from the outside with his strong lean fingers. It hurt him, too; the dryness, the tightness, all of the depraved perverted act was more painful than pleasurable, but that's exactly what he wanted for both of them.
"Oh, oh, oh, oh!" she gasped in pain, knowing at the same time that her uncontrollable bestial whimpering would excite him to the point of no return.
He knew there was little time left as the tight skin around his rigid thrusting cock screamed in pain, afraid that it would be torn by the tight burning ring of her anus. Jamie could hear her tormented moanings and feel the pressures of her soft succulent buttocks as they slapped incessantly against his thrusting belly. It was all too much, all too good! Then finally it started deep in his balls as they smacked hard against the soft red pubic mound that lay exposed to their onslaught. There was the quivering of racing liquids, then the stoppage, the one final second of control before the first jets of sperm shot from the aching tip of his tormented cock deep into her ravaged bowels.
Then, suddenly screaming like a wounded bear, he leaned back and jerked wildly against the flaccid white flesh of her full round buttocks.
Once, twice, a half-dozen times he jerked as his final punishment was heaped deep into the girl's trembling rectum, filling her anus heavily with the white hot liquid from his tortured balls.
Ten agonizing minutes passed while Margie lay stretched out on the couch, Jamie's unconscious form resting on top of her. She couldn't close her eyes for fear of her mind seeing herself lying there, trying desperately to force his deflated cock out of her pained anus.
He moaned slightly and started to come out of his exhausted sleep, and Margie knew that she must say the right things, the right way. If she didn't he could refuse to give her the tailpipe and she would have to find another way to free herself from his cruel unfair bondage.
Jamie moaned again, then began to raise his head, looking around for something that would tell him where he was. As he lifted his exhausted body, he put one hand on Margie's back, almost crushing her shoulder blade with his weight, but a short squeal from the girl warned him and he drunkenly removed the pressure.
Realizing that he was still coupled with her anus, he grunted with clenched teeth and yanked his limp penis from her still stretched passage with a hollow popping sound. That waas it, she thought through a veil of tears, relieved that it was finally over.
"Jamie," she asked a minute later as she started to put her clothes back on, uneasy about the light in the room. "Jamie, can I have the tailpipe now?"
Beg, bitch, he thought and turned to smile obscenely.
"Let yourself out the back way, I'll see you tomorrow," he told her softly, then walked to the heavy oak panels, slid them apart and left her in the room alone.
CHAPTER FOUR
Monday morning in thousands of homes throughout the United States means the beginning of another work week, another forty hours of drudgery, commuting, sandwiches for lunch and the impatient wait for Friday afternoon at five o'clock.
To Margie Carney those were the lucky ones. Their greatest problems were mortgages or car payments, neither of which could match the terrifying gravity of her hopeless situation. She had discovered that she was incapable of dealing with the piling difficulties, her husband, Jamie Barth, and especially with herself. She just couldn't seem to cope with the problems now surrounding her.
Monday's color has traditionally been blue, the same color of the dozen barbituates that lay on the rumpled sheet in front of her. There seemed to be no other solution, but for an hour and twenty minutes Margie had stared at the small blue capsules, afraid to take them and die; afraid not to take them and live.
Closed eyes and restful sleep had not shared her bed during the long agonizing night after leaving Jamie's house. She had driven home, drawn a bath, and soaked her ravaged loins and buttocks in hot water for more than two hours. Since then she had sat cross-legged in her bed, unable to find a solution to her desperate plight, until, that is, she remembered the powerful barbituates.
Suicide, however, only conjured old fears of God and a possible hell, or the unrelenting fear of an empty nothingness after life. It just wasn't the right answer, but what was? The mechanics of her confused brain had worked through the entire night searching for a solution, but there seemed to be none at all, and for the first time since she left Jamie's the night before, she started to cry with deep racking sobs.
Glistening her cheeks, the tears seemed to all be labeled: one for suicide, one for sodomy, one for adultery, and hundreds more until her sobbing, tear-stained lips uttered the key words, "hit and run manslaughter!"
Of course, Oh God, why didn't I do it before? she asked herself silently and wiped the streaming tears away with the warm wet sheet. That had been the beginning of the whole mess, and that would surely be the ending. It was so simple: Just get into the car, drive downtown, then walk into the police station and give herself up. She'd just have to pay for her mistake through the law. There were judges, juries, courts of appeal, every kind of opportunity to be given fair treatment. None of their penalties could be as heartless, as hopeless, as Jamie Barth's cruelty.
Determined to serve justice, Margie Carney jumped from the bed, spilling the dozen blue capsules onto the rug. The closet-a quick selection of a suitable blue dress suit and she was quickly dressed and out the door.
Ninth and Harrison came into view as she drove towards the city's business district, carefully observing the traffic laws. The intersections seemed to possess none of the awesome power that had frightened her so badly a few short days ago. Now it was all part of the past. Somehow it brought back only a vague, objective image of speed and a muffled thump. She knew at last that in a few minutes she would be free of the horrid guilt that haunted her so relentlessly.
A few more blocks, a red light, an uneasy wait, then a right turn and there it was.
The sign was old, but it left no doubt; this was the city police department. Margie looked at the neon lights that listed the year's traffic death toll and knew one of those numbers belonged to a teenage girl she had run down last Thursday night. The girl could never be broght back to life, but Margie knew that she must pay for her crime anyway.
Margie parked her old white convertible across the street from the police station and got out, not bothering to lock the doors. Now she was committed, resolved to be brought to justice. She started to jaywalk across the street, then looked both ways. After all, she didn't want to get a ticket for jaywalking, she thought bitterly.
She glanced furtively around her, then across the street. Her eyes followed the outline of the police station until she gazed at the top two floors of the six story building.
Bars! Cold, grey steel bars of the city jail stared down at her accusingly. Prison was frightening, unknown and unimaginable to the young housewife, but she had made up her mind to go ahead with her plan.
Instead, however, she stood frozen in the street by her car, suddenly hypnotized by her husband's trans parent image, the image she had seen in her dream a few nights before. She pictured Ben guarding prisoners, sweepng floors, and living in a small one room flat. No, she owed him more than that. He was her husband! she thought and turned dejectedly to climb back into her car. She would just have to find another solution, an answer that would free her from guilt and from Jamie Barth.
But Jamie had other plans for the young housewife as he sat in her convertible on the passenger's side, smoking a long thin cigar.
"Oh," Margie gasped as she slid behind the steering wheel and discovered that Jamie was in her car.
"Hi, baby, where ya goin'?" he asked.
"Oh, uh, nowhere, I guess," she answered fretfully. "I was going to do some shopping, but I changed my mind."
"Well, that's just fine, Margie," he told her, his eyes narrowed and striking. "You and me both know that you can't shop at the police station, don't we?"
Margie hung her head, looking into her lap and nodded. He was right, of course; she knew she couldn't turn herself over to the police, not without hurting Ben.
Jamie lectured the young girl for the next ten minutes while she nodded to everything he said. There was prison for her to consider; there waas Ben for her to consider, and of course, now that Jamie was involved, she had to consider him, too.
"Christ, baby," he chided. "Just think of all the good screwin' we'd miss if you was arrested."
What a cruel man, she thought painfully as tears for the thousandth time began to cloud her deep sensuous green eyes. Hadn't he humiliated her enough without talking to her like she was a common tramp, shaming her in her own eyes every time they were together. Now, even in broad daylight, he tormented her constantly with his lewd comments and obscene references. Why had she ever gotten mixed up with a terrible man like him?
Jamie continued to talk, mostly about himself and what he had planned for her. "...Beginning tonight," he added, then slowly slid the long cigar in and out of his mouth in an obscene mockery.
"N-No, Jamie, I can't," she pleaded. "Ben'll be home tonight and he'd know if I sneaked out late."
"Wrong, baby," he sneered. "A friend of mine who knows a lot of answers says that Ben won't be home for at least two more days. He's out chasin' bum leads on the hit and run job ... man, that's really funny," he mused aloud. "The big hot-shot private dick's looking for a killer, and all the time it's his own sweet little wife!"
Margie listened to his hideous laughter, until he finally settled down to a mild chuckle. He was cruel, insensitive, and practically a maniac she thought as he started to get out of the car, grinding out his cigar in the ash tray, then pushing his lanky legs out of the door.
"Tonight, baby," he ordered, looking back into the car. "Midnight at the Go-Go Club, and don't be late!"
Tonight, she thought with regret, and pretty soon it'll be every night until I can't take it any more. She wanted to fight him, to ignore his commands, but knew that he held the upper hand. Life's so rotten, she sobbed shaking her head and slowly pulled away from the curb to drive home.
* * *
Time, agonizing and tortuously long hours, had passed much too slowly for Margie Carney that afternoon. After hours of deep recriminating thought, unable to remove herself from the punishing gaze of her own tormenting conscience, she had started drinking a half-empty bottle of clear yellow scotch that Ben had left unfinished in the drawer of his bedside table. Now it was past midnight, and she was late for her clandestine appointment with her master, Jamie Barth.
The wrinkled old cab driver watched her with a disapproving look as she gave him a rumpled five dollar bill and walked unsteadily from the curb to the dark forbidding doors of the Go-Go Club where Jamie impatiently waited inside. Her high heels wobbled, but she managed to keep her balance and slowly pushed the heavy door open, snapping her head back at the unfamiliar odor that struck her from within the dimly-lit club. It was a strange, heavy smell, yet at the same time deliciously pleasing and inviting to the young housewife's liquor-clouded senses. She stood for a moment in the entranceway, luxuriating in smoky odor and pounding beat of an electric base guitar that beckoned her to enter the darkened main room of the club.
As if she expected it, a hand slid over her shoulder and began to remove her light summer coat, pulling it away from her tall sensuous body to reveal her full, rounded bosom straining at the confining bright red fabric of her tight fitting cocktail dress. She took a deep breath to fortify her false courage and without looking at the man who had taken her coat, strode into the club, her head high in mock pride.
Almost immediately Margie saw Jamie raise his hand and direct her toward his table near the back of the small room. It's just a date, she thought trying to rationalize her meeting with the perverted blackmailer. We're just here to dance and drink, then I'll go home alone ... I have to. Wriggling between chairs, tables and the jerking, dancing crowd, she got to Jamie's table and stood unsteadily before him, waiting to be introduced to the young couple sitting beside him.
"It's almost one o'clock," he said angrily, not bothering to rise when she came xo the table. "Another ten minutes and you'd miss the show."
Margie slowly lowered her head as he chided her and whispered that she was sorry for being so thoughtless. Somehow it was always her fault; every time something was wrong, she was to blame, whether Jamie scolded her, or Ben griped at her inability to ever do anything right. Slowed by the pint of scotch, she felt even more guilty now as Jamie stared at her. Then he introduced her to Janie, a girl she vaguely remembered from high school, and Gary, who Jamie said was to be Margie's escort through the rest of her uncertain evening.
My date, she wondered, why my date? Maybe Jamie doesn't want me any more, maybe he's going to give me the tailpipe tonight ... or maybe, maybe he's just giving me to Gary for tonight. Hesitantly, she sat beside the young blond, afraid to refuse Jamie's command and unsure of his purpose in making her Gary's date. He looks nice enough she thought carefully scanning his classic straight nose and square jaw. His long blond hair was styled expertly and trimmed with two long fashionable sideburns that slanted slightly downward to a point. His face was clean and almost boyish and Margie felt safer when he smiled at her, asked her what she wanted to drink, then ordered it from a passing waitress.
At least he's a gentleman, she thought, remembering that neither Ben nor Jamie would have ever thought to ask her what she wanted. They didn't care that she was a living, feeling human being, but maybe Gary did....
Suddenly, Margie noticed that the music had stopped, and she could hear the clamorous murmerings of conversation drifting through the darkened room. Looking around the smoke-filled club she could see the half-shadowed forms of young men and women, their heads close together in secretive communication. One girl, a blonde at the booth next to them was taking a long drag from an ornate oriental pipe, sucking at the smoke until her breasts almost sprung from her low cut, revealing mini-dress. Then, instead of exhaling the cloud of smoke, she held her breath and passed the pipe to the long -haired young man next to her. He, in turn, sucked at the pipe the same way, and as the girl exhaled a full, blue cloud of smoke, her date passed the pipe to another girl at the table and she used it the same way.
Margie cocked her head in amazement, wondering why they were all smoking from the same strange looking pipe. They couldn't be smoking marijuana, she thought through the confused haze that the scotch had draped over her mind. This is a public place, a nightclub ... but as she scanned the rest of the crowd, she could see that every booth and table was clouded with blue smoke and everyone was either passing a pipe, or short brown cigarettes, inhaling slowly, then holding the smoke in their lungs.
"No," she said aloud, her voice weak with fright. What kind of place had she come to? If the police raided the club, they would all be arrested, then Ben would know that she was out with another man! No, she'd have to leave, she had to get out before it was too late!
"What did you say?" Gary asked her softly, pulling her away from her frightened thoughts.
"I-I've got to go," she stammered, looking directly into his clouded blue eyes. "I forgot that I've got to get home."
"Oh, come on now, Margie," he whispered, shuffling his lean tough body closer to her so that she could feel the dry warmth of his breath caressing the bare skin on her smooth shoulder. "You just got here, and Jamie told me you wanted to stay for a while. If you leave I won't have anyone to watch the show with. You wouldn't want me to be lonely, would you?"
Lonely she thought bitterly remembering how lonely she had felt for so many long months. No, she didn't want anyone to be lonely, and she really didn't want to be lonely either. If only she could be sure that he was sincere, and not just giving her a line like so many other men would have tried to do. How can I be sure? she asked herself silently.
"Here," she heard him say and looked into his upturned palm. There in the pale darkness she could see the vague outline of a corncob pipe wrapped in aluminum foil that nickered softly in the candlelight. Margie didn't have to ask to know what was in the forbidden pipe, but instead of refusing his offer, she set down her glass and took the marijuana from his hand.
Silently Margie put the pipe to her mouth while Gary held a match above the tightly packed weed, and she began to draw on it just like the blonde girl had in the next booth. As the hot smoke entered her lungs and began to saturate her cells, her confused conscience whispered softly in her ear. It waas wrong, taboo! It could lead to nothing but trouble ... but her other ear could hear only the rememberance of one terrifying word ... lonely. She didn't want to be lonely tonight, or any night, and besides, what could happen to her if they just sat there and smoked the forbidden weed in a public place. She alrady had broken her sacred vows of marriage, but this wasn't like a real transgression. Now she was just trying to find companionship, and somehow that seemed to justify her being with Gary, her smoking pot ... everything. And more important was the horrid reality that she couldn't offend Jamie by leaving. He knew where the tailpipe was, and he was the only person who could destroy her marriage and her life, and at the same time was the only person who could save it.
The burning marijuana smoke forced her to stifle a rough cough as it scorched her throat, but Margie held the cloud deep in her lungs and passed the pipe to Gary. She watched him take a long deep drag and breathed deeper herself, suddenly feeling a rapturous subtle throbbing begin behind her eyes. The grass was already beginning to take effect with the first long puff, and she could see her thoughts more clearly now through the fractured enlightenment of the soul searing weed. It wasn't so bad, she told herself as she exhaled the heavy blue cloud and took the proffered pipe from Gary's hand. He was nice, really-nice looking and he acted nice, especially by giving her the pipe to share. She hadn't really shared anything with a man in so long, especially her husband.
"It's better than regular stuff," he told her trying not to exhale any of the precious smoke as he spoke. "It's hashish and marijuana. I call it mixture number sixty-nine."
Sixty-nine, she puzzled to herself as she took another long drag. It was a familiar number, but she couldn't remember why it had any significance for her. She had heard it somewhere, but neglected to pursue the thought any longer as she felt the throb grow behind her eyes, pounding in perfect rhythm with her thumping heart. It felt nice, soft and smooth now, not hot at all ...
"Mmmmmmmmm." she cooed when her lungs were filled and she handed the pipe back to her companion.
At the sound of her own voice she turned her head, half-ashamed to be so entranced already by the strange drug, but as she did, her gaze fell on the center stage where a young topless dancer had been performing when she had first come into the room. Now the sensuous dancer was back on the stage, but instead of being topless, now she was dressed in an alluring transparent black nightgown. Margie could see the girl's naked breasts probing at the flimsy cloth, but the sadness that darkened the dancer's face held Margie's attention more tightly. The girl was just like her, sad and lonely, afraid of what might be happening to her and ... from the look in her eyes she was obviously heavily drugged. The young housewife, half-drunk with alcohol and drugged by the powerful mixture of marijuana and hashish, felt her heart go out for the young dancer. They were friends, kindred spirits in a cruel and heartless world, friends who understood each other's empty lives.
The girl turned on the small stage and looked into the audience, hazily surveying the stoned audience in their drugged revereies. Then, with hardly any hesitation slipped the straps of the black nightgown over her rounded white shoulders and let the flimsy gown fall to the floor.
Margie gasped at the girl's sudden nakedness. She hadn't even considered that the girl was going to do a strip-tease, but this ... completely nude, exposing the full firm roundness of her breasts and long sleek legs that joined at her luscious hips ... this was obscene, horrible ... yet somehow Margie could not find room in her mind to condemn the girl as she reached high into the darkened air above her and stretched like a yawning cat. For some reason the dancer's naked body wasn't obscene, not like Margie would have thought a few weeks ago. Her prudish ideas were slowly being broken down by the alcohol and the drugs. Now, as Margie stared at the naked girl and listened to the delighted low cheers from the crowd, the girl's nakedness was beautiful ... yes, beautiful and natural, she thought, and smiled as she took another long heavy drag from the foil covered pipe.
Slowly the girl unreeeled from her long stretch and ran her slender fingers along the shadowed outline of her body, seeming to almost pant at her own touch. Her hands ran sensuously over her thighs and down her calves until the girl was completely bent over, then she fell back lightly onto a small bed that rested behind her.
Margie had never imagined anything like this before. It reminded her of the times she had lain on her own bed, hot and unsatisfied beneath the sheets, wanting only to be loved by the man she had married.
"Oh," Margie suddenly gasped as she watched the girl's hands-slide along the soft supple skin of her firm flat belly and begin slowly kneading the firm taut flesh of her full-rounded breasts, forcing her tiny pink nipples to grow to an excited hardness. Her knees up and bent, the girl slowly moved her legs apart, exposing the moist pink lips of her vagina through the soft silken hairs that covered her tender pubic mound. Loud panting breaths came from the audience in the club as they looked directly at the tantalizing wet slit between her legs. She ground her quivering white buttocks down hard against the mattress, showing her need, her uncautious desire to be fulfilled as a woman. Margie knew the feeling! She remembered vividly the mounting desire that had forced her to masturbate in her own bed less than a day before, her own fingers massaging her tight red nipples until the salacious tingling had coarsed guiltily through her wanting body. Ashamed of her guilty memory, she twisted in her seat nervously, hoping that no one knew what she was thinking, but the sudden movement of her firm round buttocks against the cushion made her suddenly aware of the growing tingling that was trembling in the moist slit between her own thighs. She choked inaudibly at the realization that she, too, still had a burning need, then turned to look at Gary.
Completely stoned because he had been smoking the forbidden drug for more than an hour, Gary sat looking at the girl on the stage, his eyes glazed with the fruits of marijuana and the sensuous movements of the girl on the stage.
Margie reached toward him and took the pipe from his hand, drawing it immediately to her full pouting lips and taking another long deep drag.
She knew she couldn't blot out the salacious tinglings between her trembling thighs, but perhaps the pot would clear her mind and make her understand. She pulled the pipe away from her mouth and held the smoke tightly in her lungs, reveling in the increased pounding behind her eyes. Now she knew the effects of the uninhibiting drug. She could feel the remnants of the old Margie Carney falling quickly away as she smoked and then started swaying to the sensuous rhythm of her own heavily beating heart. The girl on the bed, the heavy breathing and the intense humidity of the room were massaging the tender senses of her body that had frightened her so badly only a few short days before. She wriggled her quivering buttocks again and crossed her legs, forcing the tight silk bikini panties to slip into the damp crevice between her ivory thighs. She clenched her legs tightly together and felt the swelling bud of her oversized clitoris respond willingly to her manipulations and begin to grow. Slowly, in perfect tune with the undulating hips of the girl on the stage, Margie slid her thighs back and forth, rubbing her warm trembling flesh against the moist pink lips of her vagina, making them brush against her aching clitoris. The same tingling, the same flow of moist hot liquids were beginning to lubricate her passage and spot the smooth silk crotch band of her panties.
Afraid that she might be seen in her silent, private masturbation, Margie looked toward Jamie and Janie who were snuggly pressed together, totally immersed in their own pleasures. Jamie's hand had slipped down under Janie's mini-dress from behind her neck and found its way to the firm supple flesh of her rising breasts. Margie could see that the girl's legs were slightly apart, exposing a few silken strands of pubic hair from under the leg bands of her tight black panties. Janie either didn't notice, or didn't care, but only stared at the writhing girl on the stage in sexual rapture.
Margie slowly took her eyes off the swaying couple beside her and leaned back in the seat to discover that Gary had put his arm exactly where her shoulders touched the back of the booth.
He feels gentle, she thought and put the pipe back to her lips for another long tantalizing drag. She sensed his caressing warm breath on her uncovered shoulder and relaxed a little more, handing him the foil-covered pipe.
While she held her breath and slowly, imperceptibley rubbed her thighs together, she turned her attention back to the stage. The girl on the bed was tracing small circles over her skin, sliding her hands along the soft ivory flesh and over her firm flat belly until they came to rest at the downy vee of her warm moist crotch. With an almost delirious moan the girl rolled her head back and forth, then slid her finger into the silken mat of her pubic hair and let her long slender legs fall limply to each side, allowing the entire hypnotized audience to view to the moist trembling pink flesh of her down-covered vaginal lips. She groaned with delight and slipped a finger of her other hand alongside the first and slowly, salaciously parted the trembling pink lips until the crowd gasped at the quivering wet flesh that looked out at them, yearning for relief. Involuntarily her squirming round buttocks twitched, forcing her tiny red anus to clench with delight against the soft satin bedspread.
Frightened, yet entranced by the girl's probing fingers, Margie watched her slowly slide one finger over the straining pink bud of her lust-incited clitoris. Gary's hand slid over to her shoulder and clenched her left breast firmly, but she didn't protest. The sensation of his grip only forced the tiny red nipples of both her breasts to tighten as she sat drunkenly immersed in the obscene spectacle before her. The girl's hips were involuntarily rolling back and forth as she ran her maddening fingers over her wet, sex-starved clitoris, driving herself almost into a frenzy. Her open vagina seemed to clench and unclench, grabbing at the torturous fingers as they slid through the burning pink flesh. Her legs rose suddenly and she pulled her knees to her breasts, raising her ivory buttocks to the full view of the crowd. Then, slowly and deliberately she slipped the painted tip of one slender finger to the edge of the quivering wet oriface, brought another finger next to the first, and slid both of them into the clasping confines of her aching cunt with an obscene groan. The audience whistled with lewd delight as the two fingers were sucked into the wet pink passage of her hair-trimmed pussy.
"Oh," Margie gasped, and felt the sudden urge to rush from this awful place before it was too late. She knew that she was torturing herself by rubbing her overheated thighs together tormenting her oversexed clitoris, but she just couldn't stop herself.
She felt Gary's strong fingers massaging the firm resiliant flesh of her taut full breasts, and was suddenly relieved of her fear. It didn't really hurt anything, she rationalized, then picked up the pipe and took another sex-inducing drug. Margie felt herself becoming the girl on the stage, except that she was alone and at home, masturbating herself into a lustful frenzy. She knew how the girl felt, how she needed a man, and then the soothing smoke entered her lungs and beat an obscene jungle rhythm along the tender excitable flesh of her self-stroking thighs. Sexually aroused and hungry she turned her whole attention back to the young girl on the bed.
by now, in a drug-induced sexual euphoria, the girl was writhing in a raging fire of frenzied passion, her face contorted with lust as her sex-starved finged drove maddenly in and out of her hot clasping cunt. Uncontrolled moans of ecstatic sexual excitement whimpered from her full red panting lips as she thrust lewdly up against the probing Angers deep into the clenching pink wet opening of her hair-lined pussy with a loud lusty sucking sound. Her bright white teeth showed through her sensuously parted lips as she fought for climax. Faster and faster the frantic fingers drove in and out of her fiery wet cunt, but they weren't enough! Frustrated by her drug-induced passion the girl thrashed on the bed, almost screaming for orgasm, thrusting her upraised hips in a wild abandoned effort to cum. But still it was no use, though she clenched her tiny red elastic anus again and again trying to force the ripples of climax to flood her twitching body.
Then without warning, one of the male members of the audience who was sitting directly in front of the frantically masturbating girl jumped up onto the stage and started ripping his clothes off. The sudden movement shocked the impassioned girl into a semi-reality and she gasped in horror as she watched the lust-maddened man strip, freeing his massive thick cock from his semen soaked trousers. She started frantically to crawl away, but the fierce, crazed look in his eyes told her to freeze where she was, her legs upraised, leaving her trembling buttocks and the fiery plane of her upturned crotch in full view. She shuddered with fear as she saw his huge rock-hard prick jutting out from his body. This wasn't in the show! They hadn't told her she would have to have a partner! Frantically she looked towards her boss who was sitting near the stage, but he was grinning lewdly and massaging the fur-covered pussy of one of the other topless dancers who was wriggling on his lap.
Margie gasped in horror when she saw the big man jump onto the stage. It was a terrible intrusion she thought, still identifying with the girl on the stage. It was an intrusion into her private narcissistic world of sensual masturbation.
"Oh, no," she moaned weakly. "Leave her alone."
"It's alright," Gary slurred into her ear, suddenly slipping his hand inside the open crevice of her low cut dress and fondling her heaving breasts. "The girl don't expect it, but she won't be hurt."
Margie, though, wanted to leave this awful place. Just twenty feet away a man was going to rape a naked helpless girl, a girl who was excited by her own frantic caresses and the pungent hashish she had smoked. But her fear was turning into an unwanted facination as she watched the naked man looming over the defenseless, but sex-starved young girl. Somehow the whole macabre scene had become too much like what she had already experienced, and she had to see how it ended. The memory of her forcible rape by Jamie, coupled with the lust-inciting drugs brought the remembered tinglings of sexual urgency back to her tense, electrified body. She felt Gary put the foil-covered pipe into her hand and she automatically took it, pulling another long drag from the stained black stem. A sudden chill coarsed through her body as she recognized the salacious touch of Gary's fingers toying with her hard erect pink nipples. It felt so soft, so good, but she didn't want to acknowledge her pleasure with any out-cry or movement that might alert the others. She knew that Jamie and Janie were next to her, fondling each other, and she didn't want them to see that she had been overcome by the drugs and the impending rape on the stage. But as his persistant finger plucked at her tiny excited red nipple she felt the agonizingly delightful tingling slide through the rippling veins of her torso to the hard swollen tongue of her oversized clitoris. She wriggled against the soft cushion and brushed her trembling thighs together involvuntarily, making the tight elastic band of her bikini panties ride further up info the moist pink crevice between her quivering vaginal lips. Her clitoris was begging for her carress or even his carress, and she knew that she should get up and run away to the safety of her own home, but she couldn't.' Instead, she squirmed deeper into the cushion, rubbing the tender soft flesh of her vaginal lips against the leather upholstery, exciting the aroused pink lips even harder. She wanted to stop herself, but the sight of the naked man hovering over the girl on the stage forced her to remain where she was and torture herself with the rising excitement that was growing fiercely hotter between her trembling white thighs.
Margie watched, petrified as the big man knelt between the terrified young girl's widespread thighs and nosed his way toward her open, hair-lined pussy. She could see the thick jerking cock swaying back and forth under his belly as his tongue suddenly snaked out at the girl's tight puckered anus and then slid quickly along the open white crevice between her full quivering buttocks.
The girl tried to kick her legs out in an effort to escape, but the man grabbed them with his thickly muscled forearms and pinioned her to the satin cover. He looked up at her with an evil commanding glare, then lowered his head, and began lapping at the already moist slit beneath her soft downy pubic hairs. His tongue parted the trembling pink lips and he ran his hot hard tongue along the entire length of the fiery pink flesh lapping at the quivering ruffled lips of her burning cunt, then sliding over the red tight bud of her erect clitoris. He bobed his head as his ravaging tongue flicked through her silken pubic hair, then back to the aching clitoris, his whole head seeming buried between her widespread ivory thighs.
Terrified, yet hypnotized by the obscene oral rape of the helpless girl's trembling crevice on the stage Margie felt a sudden chill coarse up her spine as she realized the change that was coming over the girl. She could see that she was now squirming against the rampant tongue pushing herself up against it involuntarily, even though she still was straining her long slender legs in a futile effort to escape. Her body was settling into the softness of the mattress and shuddering, making her full firm breasts jiggle as she stopped her terrified moanings and began cooing softly as the red wet tongue slipped through the fiery crevice between the trembling pink lips of her clenching cunt. Margie knew the girl was being raped against her will in front of almost a hundred people, yet her fear was turning to desire.
For a long moment, Margie watched the girl's hand hover above the lust-maddened man's head then, suddenly, reach down and grab his thick head of blond hair and pull him tightly against her ravaged burning cunt, burying his nose in the clasping entrance of her hair-lined pussy. She panted like a wild savage beast as the obscene tongue licked ravenously at her tortured clitoris, then began wailing with uncontrollable passion as the man started sucking voraciously at her clasping pussy, pulling the soft fiery flesh into his tormenting obsessed mouth.
Margie heard another agonizing whimper next to her and turned to see Janie, her legs widespread, undulating her full quivering buttocks as Jamie held his long slender finger over her hot moist pubic mound, one finger free and carressing the swollen clitoris that begged for release between the trembling lips of her aching cunt. Margie whimpered in shock at the obscene spectacle beside her. These were two people that she knew, yet they were engrossed in the lewd rape of the girl on the bed, Jamie's finger sliding in and out of Jan ie's clasping cunt while she eagerly massaged his swollen rock-hard cock through his semen-stained trousers.
Through her drug-fogged mind she saw other couples in the room writhing in the dark shadows, vaguely jerking or rubbing at each other in obscene mutual masturbations. No! No! the last remnants of her morality begged. Get out of here now, before it's too late, before you become one of them ... But the lascivious whimpering on the bed slapped her conscience down and she unwantingly focused her attention back to the stage. The sex-crazed man was slowly turning the girl over, lifting her hips so the white shining orbs of her quivering buttocks were upraised and she knelt like a bitch in heat. She was trembling with uncontrolled passion as her new master positioned her for his final assault.
Pleadingly the tortured young girl undulated her hips in salacious circles, reaching back with both hands to spread the quivering cheeks, exposing the tight red ring of her virginal anus. Margie watched as the man lowered his head and slid his long lascivious tongue along the pink perspiring crevice. Her eyes were glued to his hard red tongue and she felt the agonizing tremblings deep within the moist pink crevice beneath the hair-covered lips of her aching cunt. Her unsatisfied body was agining control again and she could feel the lewd tinglings coarsing through her tortured loins. She pressed her firm round buttocks down against the cushion in a futile effort to put out the rising fire, but she only succeeded in adding more fuel to her sex-incited fire as the swollen lips of her burning vagina rubbed against the hot black leather. She was frightened by Gary's insistant fingers as he massaged her nipples even harder, and tried to stop him, but her muscles would not obey the command, and she whimpered an imperceptible sigh of defeat and lowered her hand back to the burning heat of her lap. She rolled her head in futile desperation and looked once more at the obscene rape on the bed.
Totally obsessed with uncontrolled lust the man was lapping at the defenseless girl's upraised loins, licking frantically at the fiery flowing juices that spilled from her tortured wet cunt. Margie watched as the madman suddenly raised his head and shuffled forward on his knees, moving his jerking red cock closer to the swollen lips of her soft hair-lined pussy.
Now on all fours like a bitch in heat, the moaning young girl knelt submissively as the sex-crazed man started to mount her from behind like a panting dog. Margie stared at the girl's swaying upraised buttocks then saw the man's throbbing cock jerk involuntarily, and probe at the moist wet slit held before it.
Begging for release, the lust-obsessed girl began jiggling the white round cheeks of her ass in an effort to push back against the pulsing red cock. Her moist clasping cunt missed the hard rubbery tip and it slid up to the puckered elastic ring of her tiny red anus and the man pushed forward, thinking in his lust-ridden mind that he had found the right hole. But the girl squealed fearfully and fell forward, followed immediately by the jerking head of the massive swollen prick. His head thrown back in ecstatic pleasure, the man thrust forward again and rubbed the purplish tip of his rigid throbbing cock against the swollen pulsating bud of her tortured clitoris. Margie watched open-mouthed as the man jerked forward again and again like a mindless animal in search of forbidden treasure. The entire audience, masturbating each other in a wild orgiastic frenzy, was glued to the obscene spectacle, watching the helpless lust-maddened young girl as she tried to push backward and clasp the jerking cock with her desperately clenching cunt. Finally in desperation the girl reached back and grasped the throbbing head, pulling it against the open pink orifice, then suddenly pushed herself backwards, lodging the rubbery tip half an inch into her aching wet pussy.
Margie gasped as she watched the sex-crazed man lunge forward in an animal-like response and bury his huge pulsing cock deep into her widened pink wet pussy. He clenched ,his teeth and groaned with relief, then pulled back a moment, only to thrust forward again savagely. This time burying the whole rigid shaft deep into the helpless girl's smooth fiery pussy. He stopped for a moment and shook his drugged head while his swollen testicles slapped against her open pink slit, banging their sperm-laden weight against the swollen bud of her erect red clitoris. She pursed her lips at the obscene slapping, then moaned a sigh of passionate relief as she began to undulate her full round hips in circles while the man remained motionless behind her, his massive cock embedded deep within the warm clasping confines of her fiery wet cunt. She gritted her teeth and looked back at the enraptured audience as they watched her now fucking the man who had begun by raping her, and was now being overcome by her animal lust. She moaned with perverted pleasure while her curvaceous hips rotated back and forth over the massive jerking cock, giving herself the fucking that she had craved so badly when she masturbated only a few sex-filled minutes before.
by now Margie could hardly control herself. She was panting like a crazed animal as she watched the lewd scene on the bed, barely able to keep her choking throat from screaming. Everything seemed unreal to her drug-stained mind as she watched, feeling the beads of sweat trickle off her kneaded breasts and slide across her firm flat belly to mingle with the burning vaginal moisture that already soaked her silken pubic hair. She tried to fight the rising tide of desire that screamed for release, but the total scene: the girl on the bed, the masturbating couples in the room, and Gary's insistant hand rubbing and pulling at her tight pink nipples had almost overcome her fighting conscience.
Her breath was coming in gasps as Gary gripped her breasts roughly in his own lust-heightened excitement. She didn't know what to do; whether to stop him now, or let him continue until he tried to put his hands between her fiery trembling thighs. It didn't hurt to start all this, but now she was really afraid, not of Gary, but of herself and her own hidden sexual desires, already stimulated almost to the point of no return. There was Ben but after all her sexual faithlessness, first with Jamie and now Gary, there was really almost no Ben at all. She wanted him to keep pulling at her heaving breasts, but she felt suddenly ashamed when she thought of Jamie's tormenting finger sliding in and out between Janie's shamelessly open legs. That could be Gary and me, she thought guiltily and wanted him to stop, but the obscene image of Jamie's finger tormenting Janie's hot aching cunt forced another burning ripple of excitement to sweep through her already uncontrollable body. Her thighs trembled with lust, but her mind now fought for her body, telling her that it was alright to stay just for a little while longer, just long enough to see the end of it ... that was all right: ..It had to be!
Confused, fogged and deranged by alcohol, drugs and the overpowering obscene rape before her, Margie stared back at the lust-crazed girl on the bed. She was screaming obsceneties at the sex-maddened man whose massive prick was buried deep in her aching wet cunt. As he thrust his jerking cock again and again into her pink clasping pussy, she yelled at him to fuck her harder and faster and shoot his rapist's cum deep into her swollen belly. She wanted to be fucked and humiliated in front of all the deranged spectators in the room. They were her audience, the observers of her final sexual downfall as she begged and pleaded, screaming at the lust-crazed madman to rip her shaking cunt apart with his gigantic prick. Margie, sweating and panting in rhythm with the deranged girl watched with masochistic horror, imagined herself on the bed in front of all the strangers. She could see the trickling beads of perspiration on the girl's quivering buttocks flowing into small rivers, raging down the widespread crevice of the ravaged girl's white glistening moans until they broke loase and spread like a flood across the abcks of her straining ivory thighs.
Margie squirmed on the black leather cushion in frustration, afraid that Gary knew what she was doing. Her temporary fear brought her halfway back to reality and she tried to cover his kneading hand as it pressed harder against her already aching breasts. Her nipples strained with frustrated desire, almost ready to burst from the pain and she wanted to cry out, but nothing would come but a stifled whimper. The full-rounded breasts heaved as she sighed with a defeating delight, then cautiously looked toward Jamie and Janie. She didn't want them to know that Gary was fondling her, but gasped in shock when she saw them, and knew that they didn't care what she and Gary were doing. Jamie was thrusting his skewering finger as fast as he could into her soft pink hair-lined pussy in a wild sexual frenzy, while Janie bucked her totally exposed hips obscenely, writhing and groaning with intense sexual pleasure, at the same time pulling his massive rigid cock from his trousers and masturbating the throbbing shaft with strong spasmodic strokes.
Margie turned away in horror and shifted her legs again, pressing the trembling flesh of her ivory thighs against her overgrown erect clitoris. Just as she moaned at the salacious pressure of her thighs, she felt Gary's hand slide to her knee and begin to trace a path toward the full firm flesh of her upper thigh. She had to stop him now, before it was too late! Quickly in desperation she dropped her hand to her trembling upper thigh and then set it firmly as a block against him. She was more afraid that Jamie and Janie might see her than she was to have Gary's hand slide up to the apex of her thighs. She wanted him to stop, but she didn't want him to stop! The drugs and the obscene spectacle on the bed had ordered her to let go of her inhibitions; but not in public, no, she just couldn't do it in public, not in front of Jamie or any one else.
But Gary wouldn't be stopped!
He removed his hand from beneath her sheer minidress and rested it in her lap for a short second. She tightened her desperately crossed legs, pressing again at her aching clitoris. As she involuntarily moaned, he moved his hot perspiring hand to the firm flesh of her flat belly and began kneading the resiliant muscles through the lightweight material of her sheer summer dress. While he insistandy teased her with his probing fingers, she squirmed against the black leather cushion and pressed her thighs together more tightly, knowing that she was destroying her resistance with every obscene move that she made. The hot black leather cushion served only to force the remains of her tight lace panties into her flooding pink cuntal lips and rub against her rigid clitoris. She clenched her tiny anus in desperation, but knew that it would do no good. She had passed the point of no return, but still she couldn't let him touch her here, not in front of all these people, not like the girl on the stage. He continued to torment her trembling soft pubic mound through the thin dress and could feel the dampness that flooded from her tightly clenched vagina. Her tight bikini panties were soaked in her hot flowing juices and she knew that he was completely aware of her excitement. It was wrong ... but it felt so good, oh damnn it, she cried to herself, no longer thinking about her husband or her blackmailer, but only about the insistant fingers that teased her mercilessly while she sat helpless in the booth. The fiery lips between her legs was clasping involuntarily at the fingers that teased its trembling softness from outside her dress, and she wanted to get away ... not to escape him, but to escape the crowd so they could be alone!
Still, though, she wanted him to think that she wouldn't go any farther. But she knew it was no use. Before she could breath an insistant "No!," he had slid his hand under her buttocks and had wormed his finger into her wet burning slit through her dress and straining panties, teasing and tormenting her flooding hair-trimmed crotch until she could do nothing but pant and moan at the ecstatic shocks of sexual electricity that blasted through her throbbing loins in a torrential fury. Her full red lips were parted in passive abandon as he began rubbing his teasing finger along the inside of the tight elastic band of her panties until it broke through the hot wet barrier and started to slide along the quivering pink crevice in long rhythmic strokes. Through her drugged haze she tried to squirm away from the probing agonizing finger, but it suddenly slid over the aching swollen clitoris and she wailed aloud with an uninhibited sexual abandon.
At last, at last! He had touched it and she had exploded like a breaking glass bulb, unable to control herself. His tortuous finger began moving rapidly back and forth across the rock hard clitoris from beneath her. She heard him whistle a low sensuous breath of appreciation and amazement at the gigantic size of her swollen clitoris and involuntarily spread her legs ... but she had to stop ... somehow she had to stop him now, before she humiliated herself in front of all these people....
Suddenly an ear-shattering wail screamed through the room.
Margie and Gary both jerked up to see the girl on the stage writhing in the final jerking spasms of orgasm. Her head thrashed from side to side frantically as she screamed with volcanic relief and bucked her jerking hips back toward the lust-crazed madman who was shooting his white flowing sperm into her fiery clasping cunt. Margie watched in terror at the intensity of the helpless girl's climax. Like a wild animal she thrashed against the man's driving pelvis, screaming obscenities and ranting like a maniac. She could see the hot white sperm overflowing from the girl's throbbing cunt, rolling down her long trembling thighs as her orgasm lost its fury and she slowly rolled back and forth until the half deflated cock suddenly slipped out of her ravaged vagina with a slight sucking noise, releasing her from its grip and allowing her to fall forward completely unconscious.
Hypnotized by the girl's limp satiated body, Margie barely heard Gary tell her: "Let's go." And without any hesitation she got up and followed him out of the room, stepping over couples who were wildly making love in the aisles and even on the shaking tables. Stoned by the drug, she fought for her balance until they were out of the room and in a dark back hallway.
Up two flights of stairs in the dark, holding on to Gary's arm all the way, Margie suddenly found herself in a bedroom, illuminated only by a flashing neon sign from across the street. Dizzy, she easily fell into Gary's arms for support, then felt his large hands cup her round firm buttocks, pulling her tightly against him. It was over downstairs, but not in this bedroom, not for Margie Carney.
Desperately, all control gone, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth to her full red lips, crushing him. His massive cock twitched eagerly beneath his trousers, pressing roughly against the smooth flat muscles of her stomach. It was like a dagger stabbing at her, and in the whirling vortex of drugs, alcohol, and stormy, obscene sexual excitement she wanted the tremendous prick to stab her until she lost consciousness like the girl downstairs on the stage.
"Take off your clothes," he panted.
"No, you do it," she answered softly and walked unsteadily to the bed. She wasn't being forced this time, yet she still didn't feel guilty about making love with a man who wasn't her husband. The hashish and marijuana had taken complete control of her mind and body. She was as much a slave to the drugs as she was to Jamie Barth. Now, though, she wanted this young. lean man to strip her and relieve the terrible torturous need that throbbed deep in her excited genitals.
She fell heavily onto the bed and felt him follow her quickly. She could hear his heavy uncontrolled breathing as he slid her dress over her head and expertly unfastened her bra. Her nipples, already hard, tightened at the salacious touch of the cool air and trembled as his eager hands easily slid her tight, sex-moistened panties down over her long smooth ivory thighs. As he stood up and began to remove his shirt, she sat up on the bed and wrapped her long slender arms around his thick, heavily-muscled thighs.
A complete slave to the demanding desires of her passion-wracked body, she hugged his thick legs tightly and felt the tremendous throbbing bulge of his rigid cock press against her flushed cheek. She pulled her head back and slid her hand up the coarse cloth of his pants until she grasped the pulsing prick, squeezing and testing it, praying somewhere deep in her loins that he would be enough for her, not like Ben.
Margie Carney was a woman on her own now. She felt no remorse at her faithlessness; the drugs had taken care of that. She had only a vague image of her husband, of Jamie, the tailpipe, the accident and prison. There was nothing in the world but the throbbing cock that she gently stroked with her hand ... a driving shaft that would relieve all the torment and emptiness in her life....
She squeezed the rigid spear again, the kissed it through the rough cloth, surprising herself. What have I become? she asked herself silently, thinking that she was the girl on the stage-bed. Nothing made sense to her drug-clouded, sex-maddened mind, but she no longer cared.
In a surrealistic haze she watched his hand slowly open the zipper and unclasp the metal hook at the top of his trousers.
Eager and curious, she pushed his hand away from the open zipper and reached for the imprisoned cock. Her whole body shuddered as she grasped it and pulled it free, watching his pants slide to his ankles as she felt her nipples twitch to the jiggling of her excited breasts.
It was hot, though, so hot, she wondered in amazement, then heard Gary moan above her. It was long and thick and hard ... and so hot.
She looked at it in the flashing red neon light, examining the purplish red tip while he panted, looking down at her childlike curiosity. There was nothing else for her now, nothing but the burning throbbing penis in her hand. The rock hard penis that would relieve the terrible ache in her tortured loins. :
She ran her inquisitive hand over the rubbery tip, seeing a man's penis for the first time up close ... she had seen Jamie's erection up close, but he had forced her, and that made a difference. Not Gary. No, he had been nice ... he had toyed with the tormenting bud of her overly sensitive clitoris, pulling and rubbing gently ... Gently she pulled at it, then started to apply a growing pressure with her tightly clenched fist. She wanted to see how hard it really was ... it felt so good, so strong....
When she finally squeezed it too hard, he reached for her wrist with a gentle pressure and made her release her increasing grip. Then slowly he guided her hand back and forth over the tight blood filled skin and she began stroking the throbbing hot cock by herself while he moaned softly above her, at the same time pushing his hips forward, putting the pulsating jerking tip only a few tantalizing inches from her peach textured skin.
The urgent panting of his passion grew rapidly until he suddenly reached down and pulled her softly stroking hand reluctantly from his aching cock, then ran his strong trembling fingers through her hair and tugged at her head, drawing her pouting red lips to the burning red tip of the swollen prick. Gently he bobbed her head forward, lightly bouncing her mouth off the rubbery purplish head, urging her to follow the obscene example. She could taste the almost salty white liquid that hung in a large single drop from the open red verticle slit and her mouth involuntarily opened as he pulled her forward one more time. The faithless young housewife heard him moan in sexual ecstasy as the rubbery head of his swollen cock slid easily into her open wet mouth, brushing against her straight white teeth. At first remembering her horrible oral experience with Jamie, she wanted to stop, to "cease the obscene sucking before she would regret it, but Gary ... Gary was different. Instead of choking her, raping her almost virginal mouth, he was gentle ... and he needed her full moist lips around his throbbing prick. The drug told her it was alright with Gary ... it was alright to suck as the warm fulfilling cock that probed her mouth, and slowly she began to bob her dazed head back and forth, filling her mouth with saliva to lubricate the pulsing cock as she started sucking gently at its rigid hardness.
While she sucked at the burning organ, trying to cool it and pull it deep into her throat, she could hear his ecstatic lust-incited groans panting through his open mouth. His hands pressed her head tighter towards him, but she moved backwards instead, taking the pulsing cock in both hands and began sucking and licking at the throbbing hot head, enveloping it with her lips and lapping at its dripping white juices with her hot moist tongue, reveling in its newness and turgid fires. It was so big, so hot, and full of life, and she wanted to suck forever, as if she had never done anything else in her entire life.
Whirling, tumbling through her mind were brightly colored images of the gigantic throbbing penis growing, expanding, then jerking back to its original size, only to grow and expand with newfound strength. She wanted to suck all of it, all of the thick massive shaft until it filled her hungry throat, then expelled its life-giving juices into her lust-incited body.
She heard him gasping uncontrollably for breath, panting like a deranged wounded animal. His hands pulled viciously at her long flowing red hair and she felt him clench the rippling muscles of his buttocks spastically as short grunts whispered hoarsly from his parted lips.
Suddenly he jerked forward again and again and she felt the massive prick jerking in her mouth, then realized that this was it ... he was cumming! She sucked voraciously at the burning liquid as it emptied deep into her hungry throat, filling her mouth to overflowing while she tried to gasp for breath and continue to suck at the orgiastic juices. Hot sticky fluids filled her sucking hot mouth and spilled over the edges of her lips, while she swallowed all of the life-giving sperm that she could take.
She felt him suddenly go limp as he stood above her and she realized that he had finished, but he hadn't satisfied her urgent burning need. Somehow, though, it seemed alright because she knew she had satisfied him, and that's what a woman's for.
There was a vague memory of her obscene fellatio, of her infidelity, but it was quickly blotted out by the burning torment from the hungry red furnace between her trembling white thighs. Her eyes clenched tightly shut, she began running her long slender fingers over her tortured flesh, toying a moment with her rigid pink nipples, then moving quickly to the downy apex of her thighs in an effort to satisfy her lust-crazed body's aching need.
As her excited fingers felt the raging heat from her hair-covered crotch, she suddenly sensed him kneeling on the floor between her widespread thighs. She felt the hot heavy rhythm of his breath on her ivory smooth thighs as his lips neared the trembling flesh, and kissed the full softness, snaking out with his tongue and tracing a quick eratic path along the quivering inner flesh of her straining thighs until she felt the hard wet tongue slide over her two fingers that rested on the soft silken pubic hair.
She shuddered with electric delight as his panting breath blanketed her pulsing pubic mound and she eagerly moved her fingers away to make room for the tittilating wet tongue.
"Ooooohhhh," she moaned erratically as the tormenting tongue flashed out at the pink breathing slit and lapped at the burning wetness of her ruffled wet vaginal lips. It was fantastic! never before had she felt anything so electrifying, so soft, so exciting ... except her dream stranger ... the man who came in her dreams every night and licked at her in the safety of her own bed. Now it was real, a real happening!
She reached to pull his frantic tongue harder against the burning pink flesh of her quivering cunt and he responded by burying his head in her hair-covered crotch, his tortuous tongue searching for the tiny erect clitoris he had felt when he toyed with her yearning vagina in the club downstairs.
"Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh," she gasped aloud in the first shocks of erupting pleasure as she felt his tongue dart out and slap at the pulsing depths of her being. The tormented bud was throbbing crazily, fantastically out of control. Though almost never erect, it had always been capable of such a gigantic feeling, but never before had she felt anyone touch it so lasciviously, so obscenely with their lips and tongue. Now she experienced for the first time, the soul shattering ecstasy of full sexual delight.
The powerful drugs had Gary floating on a soaring trip as he sucked at the tiny quivering clitoris. God, she as wild, he thought frantically as he listened to her lust-maddened whimperings. He's never known a woman who got so turned on, and he'd never even imagined a woman with a clitoris that was so sensitive and lust inspiring. It jerked and throbbed like a miniature cock and he was excited even further by the obscene thought of tiny, living clitoris trying to fuck another woman.
His own thick massive prick had swollen again to its monstrous proportions and was aching to slide into the clasping wet entrance of her aching cunt. He lapped once more at the swollen clitoris, pushing at it with his bared teeth, then lifted his head crawled up onto the bed between her widespread thighs, pushing his knee against the hair-lined flesh of her now wildly quivering pussy.
He ground his knee against the trembling wet cunt and listened to her drug-induced moanings as she writhed against his knee's tortuous pressure. Goddamn, she's fucking wild! he thought through his lust-maddened mind, and slid back so that he lay on top of her, his rigid thick cock throbbing against the downy soft pubic hairs that covered her yearning unfulfilled genital opening.
Looking down at her in the flashing red neon light he could see her full-red mouth open and slack with desire. He leaned forward 'and suddenly crushed his lips over hers, sucking at her long red tongue lust like it was her lust-crazed clitoris, pulling it into his mouth and encircling it with his own hard wet lips.
Her full firm breasts quivered beneath him and her naked hips undulated slowly beneath the weight of his massive throbbing cock. With a sexual certainty, animal instinct, he slid his body into position for his final thrust, feeling the pulsing head of his jerking cock slide out over the fiery wet crevice that guided him to the clasping entrance of her hungry, burning cunt. Cautiously he pushed forward and the pulsing shaft slipped through the pink slippery crevice until it was suddenly almost sucked inside her smooth cuntal passage by the swallowing pink muscles of the tortured, unfulfilled entranceway.
"Aaaahhhhhh," they moaned in unison as the rigid cock slid easily into her clasping pussy, filling her with its lust-maddened hardness. The long jerking rod seemed to burn as he slowly, gently pushed in then out out of the well lubricated pink passage, building a grinding rhythm with her undulated hips as she rotated them lasciviously beneath him.
Margie wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself upward, lifting her legs high and out wide at the same time, just as the girl had done on the stage-bed. She mewled incessantly with lustful delight as the stroking hard cock slid in and out of her open, upraised pussy and she involuntarily clenched the trap-like muscles of the pink wet flesh, clasping at the massive burning prick as it plunged again and again into her tortured, hair-covered cunt.
Oh man, he thought through his lust-maddened desire. She's so fucking tight, so wild, oh Goddamn!! He felt her wriggle against him, squeezing and releasing her long, straining thighs against his sides as he sank the jerking cock again and again into her fiery clasping cunt. Oh fuck! She was so fucking wild, so fucking stoned on pot ... like a goddamned wildcat ... an animal ... Oh fuck!
Crazed like a depraved maniac he increased the frantic tempo of his lust-maddened driving prick, at the same time grabbing both cheeks of her white, wildly undulating buttocks. She clenched her tiny hairless anus and her buttocks quivered with delight, as she felt his finger slide into the open white crevice and slip over the clasping tight elastic ring of her tiny red sphincter. Everything, every touch, every sound brought new and exciting ripples of tortuous sexual excitement to her fiery bucking body. Now this, now his finger against the almost virginal ring of her anus ... Oh God! She squirmed towards the probing finger, trying to grasp it with the frantically clenching sphincter. She was bouncing now on the bed in a wild abandoned sexual frenzy, and his finger found its forbidden target and pushed against the clenching red ring.
"Oh, Oh, Oh!" she whimpered as the finger wormed its way slowly into the soft hairless hole. Gasping and wailing in a whirling vortex of hallucinating drugs and lust-maddened excitement she felt the worming finger rotating in her buttocks while his rigid driving cock plunged deeper and harder in and out of her straining, wet clasping cunt.
He drove at her furiously, inceased by her animalistic cries of wanton passion until he could feel nothing but the pounding throbbing that raced through his thick aching cock.
Jerking and bucking, her soft white thighs seemed almost to fly out from around his waist and there fall limply and submissively beside him, flailing spastipally in an uncontrollable helpless passion. The tendons of her widespread crotch strained from beneath her skin as she stretched herself past her limits to suck more of the pounding cock deeper and ever deeper into her clasping pussy.
As she bounced on the tumbling bed in frantic sexual fight for climax, she threw her long arms around his neck and lifted her head up, viciously biting at her lower lip in an erotic effort to suck his phallic tongue deep into her panting throat.
Now his rhythm suddenly slowed, though the power of his brutal thrusts became almost unbearable to the lust-maddened girl's down covered pelvis. He was nearing his release, his excruciating climax, and she could sense his spasmodicly clenching buttocks and began to thrash her hips sideways in a cruel effort to pull his driving rock hard cock from his body and suck it deep into her fiery, tortured womb. She flexed the straining muscles of her buttocks against his kneading hands, clenching the tight elastic ring of her ravaged anus, pulling at the worming wet fingers as it probed the deep dark depth of her smooth rubbing rectum.
He grunted, fighting for release, then felt one hand slide from his neck, over his back and slip across his tight clenching anus. Too much! Christ she was too fucking much!
Through his lust-maddened mind he could hear her gasping in short mewling grunts of uncontrolled passion as the first throes of orgasm racked her body until the volcanic climax suddenly erupted in a blinding flash of thundering colors, shooting wild flashes of light through her tortured cuntal walls until finally she jerked her whole body spastically in a final bucking frenzy and screamed at the flooding tide of burning wet juices that shot through her wildly spewing belly.
She seemed to fall almost limp, but he continued thrusting his aching cock, knowing that it would burst at any second. He felt her holding tightly to his neck while her free hand still slapped at the clenching red ring of her anus, forcing him to drive even more viciously as the lust-maddened pressure in his balls began to erupt from its imprisonment.
"Oh you fucking cunt." he screamed at her as the white hot jets of sperm fled from his lust swollen balls and shot through the long seem of his massive thrusting cock in one final explosion of frenzied passion. He screamed in the erupting release as the fiery white juices spewed from the hard throbhing tip into the hot wet confines of her hair covered pussy until suddenly with a deep throated groan he fell on top of her with one final exhausted gasp, completely satisfied with the young faithless housewife who had fucked him almost unconscious.
* * *
For more than twenty minutes they had lain in silence on the bed beside each other. Margie's drug clouded mind tried to sort out the confused events of the night: where was she? Who was she with? And what did he do to make her feel so good? Her volcanic climax had left her limp and exhausted, yet she could still feel the smoldering fires of eroticism smoking deep in her loins. She had never known that sex could be so beautiful, and her drugged consciousness wondered if they could do it some more.
Suddenly her half-conscious thoughts were awakened by the creaking of bedsprings in the room. Slowly, suspiciously, she turned her head to see the vague sillouettes of two naked bodies on the other large bed in the room. Who? How did they get there, she asked herself frantically and looked toward Gary for the answers, but he was entranced, watching the other couple in their obscene position.
Somehow they had entered the room without Margie or Gary hearing them, and now they were ... Oh God! Through the flashing neon light she could see the sharp features of Jamie Barth kneeling between Janie's widespread thighs. She gasped in a mixture of horror and the re-kindling of sexual fires in her own loins as she watched Jamie running his moist red tongue over the soft sensual flesh of the girl, twirling small circles around her taut jutting nipples. He sucked eagerly at her heaving breasts, then quickly ran the salacious wet tongue down the length of her trembling torso to the downy blond hair that covered her silken pubic mound. Janie was moaning in erotic throes of pleasure as she pulled his head tighter against her open crotch in eager anticipation of the hard wet tongue's probings.
Margie bit her lower lip to keep from eying out at the lewd spectacle before, her and drew blood from the full, pouting lip. It had felt so good when Gary had put his tongue there, but it was so horrible to watch, so degrading. But no matter what she tried to tell herself, the young housewife knew that the obscene perversion she was watching could easily turn her drugged and sexually liberated body back into the wanton, obsessed creature that had just done the same to this stranger's rigid penis less than an hour ago.
Suddenly a dancing, flickering light caught the corner of her eye and she turned to see Gary lighting another pipefull of hashish and marajuana. My God, she thought, what is he doing? He was lighting the pipe and letting the depraved couple on the other bed know that they were in the room watching. Horrified at the thought of being discovered, she felt a sudden chill ripple through her abdomen, but when Gary handed her the lighted pipe, she eagerly dismissed her fears for the anticipated newfound joys of the stimulating drug and took a long deep drag, holding the heavy blue smoke down in her lungs for more than a minute. Gary took his turn, then Margie took another, inhaling more deeply until the ripe, spicey smoke was pounding at her brain again in perfect time with her heart-beat. She never took her glazed eyes from the couple on the bed, and now instead of being afraid of detection, she was eagerly watching, obsessed with the slow undulation of Janie's hips and the black touseled hair of Jamie's head as he rolled it slowly, deliberately between the girl's thighs.
Margie could see his fingers moving in salacious circles along the wet pink crevice -lined by her soft silken pubic hairs, working the girl into an already frenzied writhing beneath him. She looked like a human sacrifice in an ancient rite, laid out helpless on a stone slab at the mercy of a priest of the occult, Margie thought through the blanketing haze of hashish and marajuana that controlled her every fragmented train of thought. Exhaling another full cloud of the heavy blue smoke she watched Jamie suddenly turn on the bed and straddle the aroused girl's smooth flat belly and leaned forward; his back touseled head only an inch above the soft blond pubic hairs that protected the pink moistness of her ruffled vaginal lips. He expertly slipped his ravenous fingers into the downy fur and spread the supple pink lips exposing the tiny erect bud of Janie's clitoris. Margie gasped at the sight in the flashing neon light, and felt her own excitement again pulsing in the moist slit between her long ivory thighs.
Quickly Jamie lowered his head and buried it in the silken blond pubic hair, nuzzling his long nose into the open passage of her quivering vagina and snaking out his long hard tongue against the excited red bud. Janie shuddered with ecstatic delight as blistering electric shocks shot through her body and lifted her legs in response, wrapping her straining thighs around his head. Holding the tormenting tongue and nose imprisoned between her tightly flexed thighs, she started to roll her trembling hips in an erotic savage rhythm with the lapping tongue. She moaned softly, then louder as the red wet tongue lapped at the swollen bud and then twisted her sensuous body upward as her groanings reached the pitch of a mournful wail.
Margie moaned at the same time Janie wailed, taking part in the tortuous pleasure with a vicarious thrill shuddering through her body. She was a part of them, enrapture by the flicking tongue as it raced through her imagination and snaked along the rising erection of her own clitoris, tormenting her as much as it did the sex-crazed girl on the bed.
Margie nodded her drug filled head in time with the writhing girl on the bed, and rolled gently back and forth with the imagined tongue licking voraciously at her own moistened vagina. She felt Gary slide closer to her on the bed and slip his arm around her round soft shoulder to begin kneading the soft pliant flesh of her large heaving breasts. She squirmed backward against him, clenching her buttocks against the raw rigid flesh of his excited penis pressing into the trembing folds of her quivering white orbs. It was hard again, she thought with a wicked grin on her lust-contorted face and wriggled closer to the thick throbbing head, feeling it slide along the damp, sweat soaked crevice between the cheeks of her clenching buttocks and jerk lightly at the hairless elastic ring of her puckering anus.
How strange, how weird that she was here, naked on a bed with one man, and watching another couple enraptured in an obscene position on the other bed only a few short feet away. Was it the drugs, or the alcohol, or the screaming need of her masochistic guilt that had brought her here? But no answers came to the faithless young housewife ... only the lust-incited intensity of the obscenity that she was taking part in, unable to find any conscience to control herself.
Gary's confident strong hands pulled at her trembling torso and guided her to her stomache where she lay for a moment spread-eagled on the bed. Then at his urging, she raised herself to all fours and felt the lascivious hands clutch at her free-hanging, breasts that swayed sensously beneath her. Her tiny nipples were already red and erect, but he pulled at them in tiny circles and brought them to an even more aroused hardness. She felt the intensified tingling that she had only discovered a few days before, but watching the other sex-maddened couple made the ripples of pleasure more electrifying than ever, aroused and racing through every shattering nerve in her drugged body.
Margie watched hypnotized by the obscene, erotic spectacle on the other bed, her upraised tender white buttocks pushing back towards Gary as he knelt up behind her. Jamie lifted his lust-maddened head and was slithering his red wet tongue over every tortured inch of Janie's trembling body, slowly only to give her tender, erode places more attention. As the girl whimpered with lascivious delight Margie could plainly see Jamie's thick, rod-hard prick jutting out from his body. She'd seen it before, even sucked it before, but now the rigid shaft looked even larger than she had imagined. She bit her lip as the throbbing red cock hovered for a moment over the sex-crazed girl's moist clasping vagina. God, he was going to drive it into her just like he had done to Margie a few nights ago, she thought, terrified and at the same time excited even further by the thought of Jamie's cock riding in and out of her fiery vagina in a deliberate wanton passion Margie sighed with disappointment when he moved the pulsing rubbery head away from the pink hair-line lips and crawled forward until he straddled the panting girl's breast his twitching cock hovering only scant inches from her full red lips. Quickly as he straddled her, an obscene grin on his face, he reached behind his back and slid a thick finger deep into the girl's wet, naked vagina. Janie wailed with delight and squirmed her curvaceous hips to suck more of the intruding finger deeper, its lewd hardness skewering the smooth wetness of her cuntal walls, driving her almost insane with passion.
Margie watched as the girl suddenly squealed in pain as Jamie's knees pushed down on her pinioned arms.
She squirmed for a moment, unable to control her passion incited by the skewering finger, and unable to escape the pain of his imprisoning knees. She thrashed her head back and forth, but stopped when she saw his free hand grasp the fat thickness of his throbbing cock and wave it obscenely in front of her red full, parted lips. Eagerly she lapped out with her burning red tongue at the white drops of liquid on the rubbery tip, licking the warm white semen from the purplish vertical slit. But as she reached for the delicious throbbing prick with her mouth, he pulled it up and back, just out of her reach. Tears formed in her sex-crazed eyes as she strained to envelope the massive cock with her full, wet lips, unable to reach it as he pulled it far enough away to tease her aroused passions almost to the breaking point.
Margie gasped and whimpered for Janie's helplessness as she listened to Jamie's all-too-familiar obscene giggle. Her whole body trembled helplessly as she watched the tortuous teasing, then suddenly felt a rapturous shudder shake her smooth flat belly as Gary's sweating hands left the quivering moons of her jiggling breasts and slid salaciously over her taut muscles belly and slipping through the soft red silken hairs of her pubic mound and over the moist quivering lips of her aching vagina. She jerked her white, rounded buttocks and shivered eagerly as the tantalizing finger slid over the over-wrought bud of her impassioned clitoris. A mewling cry of pleasure sprang from her lips as the titillating finger rubbed the oversexed pink bundle of nerves making her shake her buttocks almost frantically at the erotic teasing. She could feel his massive rock-hard penis pressing into the quivering folds of the perspiring crevice between the two swaying white orbs while she rested on her hands and knees, still unable to take her gaze from the frenzied girl on the other bed. Involuntarily she shuffled her quivering buttocks back toward the pressing rubbery shaft, still jiggling from the urgings of her lust-crazed clitoris.
Gary pushed forward and she followed his rhythm, the same obscene rhythm that Jamie's finger was fucking ravenously with into Janie's helplless hair-lined cunt with.
Margie gasped in mock pain as she saw Jamie suddenly grab the lust-crazed girl by her long blonde hair, pull her viciously toward him, then thrust his throbbing jerking cock into her open screaming mouth. Margie feet a trickle of warm moist blood as she bit her lip in sympathy for the tortured girl, watching the ramming thick cock slid into her mouth making her gurgle with a loud choking sound trying to fight the intrusion. Margie watched fearfully, then was amazed when Janie suddenly gained control of herself and began to suck eagerly at the twitching prick buried in her wide stretched mouth, straining to pull as much of the fiery rock-hard penis into her throat as she could.
Jamie, a lewd sadistic grin on his lust-contorted face, rose to his knees and began thrusting his massive cock into the girl's hungry sucking mouth while he still pummeled her slippery hot loins with his ravaging finger. His thrusting began bouncing the bed in a frantic fury, buffeting the girl as she tried to suck voraciously at his jerking cock and still keep his rasping finger ramming in and out of her open hair-covered vagina. Margie could hardly believe her eyes as the masochistic girl rended in her humiliating position and obvious searing pain, sucking her full red lips around the purplish rubbery head and it appeared and disappeared obscenely into her mouth. Margie gasped at the animal-like sounds moaning from the girl's cock-filled throat, lusty and raw as they gurgled in a muffled masochistic delight from her sucking mouth. She was so wild, so crazy with lust and Margie suddenly found herself wanting to trade places with the tortured girl and suck at the punishing massive prick while his fingers raped her own wet hair-lined pussy.
Gary, kneeling obscenely behind her was panting like a dog in heat, ready to mount his bitch and fuck her with all his animal strength. His throbbing cock had grown to even larger rock-hard proportions as he watched the lust-crazed couple on the other bed, and it strained against its tight stretched skin, aching for Margie's smooth burning pussy to envelope it rubbery throbbing head and ease the burning erotic passion that possessed him.
"Now," he panted in her ear, his jerking cock sliding up and down in rhythm with his hips as he pressed it along the moist pink ruffled lips of her flooding vagina.
"N-no," she heard hrself pleading, not wanting him to stop, but only to take it slow and easy so that she could last so much longer. "Please, wait...."
"Wait like hell," he hissed at her through his tightly clenched teeth. "I'll fuck you any time I feel like it and that fucking time is NOW!"
She gasped at his obscene words and commanding tone. Maybe that's how all women really liked to be treated, she wondered through the hued haze of her massively drugged mind. Maybe they all want men to be rough ... treat a whore like a lady and a lady like a whore ... the familiar words whispered in the foggy back of her mind. Maybe she was a whore ... maybe not. It didn't seem to matter. All she cared about was the lewd perversion before her eyes, and the jerking hot cock that twitched behind her quivering upraised buttocks.
Suddenly she felt him release the probing pressure against her trembling behind and a void seemed to come between them. She stayed on all fours, watching Jamie and Janie, still waving her quivering white buttocks behind her in full view of Gary's lust-crazed eyes. It was too much for him, too delicious an invitation and he suddenly dropped his head behind her, his tongue thrust out between his perspiring lips and he licked the wide open crevice with his hard red tongue, running down the entire length to the hair covered lips of her open vagina, then back up until the lascivious tongue flicked over the clenching elastic ring of her tiny hairless anus.
"Aaahhhh!" she wailed ecstatically at the electrifying tongue and jerked the full rounded orbs of her jiggling buttocks. She gasped again as the lewd tormenting tongue licked its way obscenely back down the open pink crevice to the ruffled hair-lined lips of her flooding pussy, enveloping her entire exposed trembling backside in a savage palpatating shock of undiscovered desire. Panting in ecstatic disbelief she remembered her dream stranger licking her flooding loins, then the lustful cunnilingus Gary had performed on her not more than an hour ago, but nothing was like this. None of the obscene perverted acts she had committed or watched could match the intense rippling waves of passion that rocked her body in a lewd primitive rhythm of uncontrollable desire.
"Oh, Oh, Oh!" she gasped feeling a rising tide of orgasm building deep in her quivering abdomen. But Gary sensed her coming climax and ceased his tormenting tongue slithering it up along the open pink crevice the ivory cheeks of her widespread buttocks until left the exciteable area and climbed back up on her back.
Mounted like a bitch in heat she felt the throbbing rubbery head of his pulsing cock press against the clasping lips of her fiery open loins.
But something was wrong! It was too big ... much bigger than before ... how could it have grown so much?
The obscene depravity of the couple fucking on the other bed had excited Gary beyond any heights he had ever imagined and his already massive prick had expanded to almost half again its erect size, giving it the proportions of a tremendous cudgel that could easily rip a woman apart.
Though her long trembling thighs were stretched to their furthest limits, Margie knew that she wasn't big enough for the thick pulsating cock. He would split her with his massive penis, break her open! No, she'd had too much already and trembled at the aching soreness deep in the dark damp confines of her smooth quivering cunt. She had tried, she really had, but it was no use. She couldn't spread the aching wet entrance any further. She just couldn't!
Suddenly she started to fall to one side and then realized that he had grabbed one of her supporting arms with his rough strong hand and had pulled her slender fingers back to grasp the rubbery head of the immense twitching cock. He wanted her to put it in her! It would be like a suicide, impaling herself wkh his throbbing weapon....
"Now!" he hissed in a single breath.
"Ooooh, god!" she moaned fearfully, terrified of the massive jerking prick, but more afraid of what he might do to her if she disobeyed. But there was no choice, and she grasped the throbbing organ with her free hand. Oh God, she whimpered silently. Her fingers barely fit around it, and yet he wanted to plunge that huge thing into her tight vagina.
Terrified tears flooded her eyes as she positioned the huge pulsing prick at the tender pink entrance to her hair-lined cunt. There, it was done. Now it was up to him, she thought in her tears and felt him probe forward with the tremendous tool, wedging its way into the tight elastic entrance. His hips worked slowly back and forth in a careful effort to gain a foothold in the clenching wet pussy. Then, slowly at first, he pushed forward and with a single grunting thrust he sunk half of the throbbing cock into her slippery burning vagina, making her squirm fitfully at the painful intrusion.
"Aaarrgghhh!" she groaned through her contorted lips. Like a scampering animal she tried to crawl forward and then to the side to escape the searing pain that racked her entire abdomen from the wide-stretched entrance of her smooth walled vagina to the deepest depths of her quivering belly. But her squirming body only excited him further and with one more brutal thrust he shoved the rest of the blunt burning spear into her ravaged cavern, impaling her to the hilt. Her cuntal walls were about to burst from the tremendous stretching of the oversized cock and she lifted her head almost blindly to look across the small room at the other bed.
In the vague flashing neon light she could see the full red lips of Janie's sucking mouth pulling and gasping at Jamie's driving cock as he thrust it again and again into the hot sucking orifice. Margie listened through her pain to Jamie's obscene commands down at the girl beneath him and saw the small blonde girl bucking her head in rhythm with his thrusting pelvis. Both of her hands had reached around his slim driving hips and grabbed the clenching cheeks of his buttocks, pulling his plunging cock frantically into her gaping mouth while his swollen testicles slapped at the soft white skin beneath her skin. White sticky semen leaked from the corners of the depraved girl's mouth, running down her cheeks and falling in small droplets on her dancing breasts. But the obscerte act did nothing but excite Margie further to greater depths of depravity as the lust-craze girl sucked harder and harder at the intruding cock.
Gary pushed behind his impaled skin, sinking his oversized straining prick rhythmically into Margie's softening wet pussy. Suddenly she realized that the pain was gone and she was feeling the beginning of the rocking ripples of masochistic pleasure that had shattered her senses the night that Jamie had raped her tiny virgin anus. Janie liked it ... Margie could see through her drug dazed eyes ... so why shouldn't she like it too? Why shouldn't she enjoy the electric ripplings of pleasure that wanted release from the hidden corners of her body? She was only human ... yes she was only human!
In answer to her lust clouded questions, Margie began to rock the white orbs of her jiggling buttocks in small circles, whimpering, "Yes ... yes ... oh yes...!"
Now in complete control of the sex-crazed young housewife, Gary increased his fevered thrusting, lunging even harder against the perspiring moons of her swaying buttocks. He was driving her like a dog, like a slave and he enjoyed it. He was the master and she the servant, completely subjugated to his obscene commands. His strong hands pulled at his writhing hips, controlling their undulations as he plundered her upraised vagina with his bludgeoning cock.
His fingers dug into her soft trembling thighs making her squeal in masochistic pain and pleasure as she fought to capture the elusive blinding climax that he was building deep in the confines of her soft moist pussy.
He lifted his head back and looked downward over the quivering moons of her swaying buttocks to see his massive pulsing prick sliding in andout of the tight hair-lined oriface, pulling the wet pink flesh of her cuntal lips out as he withdrew, then pushing it back into the fiery entranceway as he lunged forward. He clenched his teeth and with one smashing thrust drove the massive straining cock as far into her wet clasping cunt as he could force it. The rubbery head, burning with excited desire and the needle-like sensations of masochistic pain, struck against the hard core of her untouched cervix and forced a mewling gasp from her open, panting lips. He knew that no other cock had ever touched the deepest ends of her aching young cunt before, and began to swivle his hips, rotating the engorged head of his massive throbbing prick deep inside along her untouched cuntal walls. He groaned with sadistic delight as her vaginal muscles began to clench and unclench in a lewd rhythm, milking the burning desire from the massive head of his thick rotating prick.
Margie rolled her eyes in oblivious rapture as the gigantic cudgel pummeled and rasped the walls of her tortured vagina. She swayed her jiggling ivory buttocks and spread her quivering thighs wider to allow more room for the deep penetrating cock. She wanted him to spear her with the huge jerking cock, to punish her again for her infidelity, for her crime and for the intense lascivious pleasure she was getting from his ravaging of her helpless genitals. Pleasure! Pleasure! She couldn't escape from the tight confining reins of sexual pleasure that held her prisoner at every turn. She could feel his swollen testicles slapping against her quivering buttocks in a lewd obscene rhythm with his driving fiery weapon, and sensed the curly hairs that surrounded the thick base massive prick as he slammed against the exposed edges of her pink ruffled vaginal lips. Panting in tune with the obscene rhythm she dropped her head to the pillow and let her arms flail helplessly at her sides and squirmed her firm flush breasts against the bed, squashing them viciously in an eager effort to fuel the burning fire in her taut red nipples. She could feel the engorged head of the great rotating cock pushing against her virginal cervix with an exciting rippling sensation she had never before encountered. There was no more pain, no more humiliation from the taunting Jamie ... only the exciting young stranger she had met only two hours before slamming his throbbing penis with unconrolled lust deep into the scretive burning confines of her rippling hair -lined pussy. He was her master, tearing at her insides and making her want it! She loved the roaring torrents of lust and passion that raped every nerve in her writhing body!
Margie half turned her gaze to Jamie laviviously sucking at Jamie's driving rigid cock like a savage beast. She could see massive shape disappear almost completely into the girl's throat, seeming to choke her, but only fueling the raging fire that flamed with in her, making her groan and moan with ecstasy as she sucked for the life-giving juices that pushed at the constricting barriers in his lapping, swollen balls.
Maargie knew he was going to cum in the girl's mouth and fill her red flushed cheeks with fiery hot sperm until she could take no more. Margie vaguely remembered that she had earlier swallowed Gary's hot juices ... but that was somehow different.
Then like a lust-crazed wild man, Jamie screamed and pulled his jerking cock from the girl's voracious mouth and began spewing jets of burning sperm from the throbbing red head into the girl's open gaping mouth three inches away. Janie gulped and swallowed the fiery juices as they spewed through the air and into the dark wet cavern of her sucking mouth. She wanted every drop of the life-giving cum to slide down the burning passage of her spastically contracting throat, and reached out with her hand to hold the spitting organ still to direct the flow of burning sperm that shot into her mouth. God how awful, how depraved Margie thought hazily as she watched the lust-crazed girl lean forward and begin licking the last drops from the jerking end of the still-pulsing red cock, running her tongue along the quivering fullness of her lower lip to sip the last remnants of her depraved act and swallow it voraciously.
Watching Janie lapping the last of the sticky fluids from the deflating cock, Margie suddenly felt Gary pulling more desperately at her quivering buttocks in an insane effort to drive his thrusting long cock deeper into her clasping wet pussy. Furiously she squirmed back toward him, screwing her swaying buttocks against the curled hairs covering his ramming groin and giggling with delight at her wickedness. His swollen balls slapped and ground against the pink crevice between the white moons of her trembling buttocks and pressed against the tight hairless entrance to her clenching red anus, making her shudder and mew with delight at the slapping swollen flesh.
Now there was no more Jamie and Janie, no Ben, no auto-accident, no nothing but the driving cock that rammed viciously into her clasping fiery cunt sending torrents of blinding light through her drugged stained, lust-filled brain.
"Ahhh," she moaned. "Fuck me harder, oh God yes, Fuck me harder!!" the wailing girl screamed almost incoherently. The waves of passion had rising to the top of the dam and were about to erupt in a blinding exploding orgasm of electric shock and blinding light. The flames were burning down the last wall of resistance to her climax, making her jerk and twist spastically, flailing her arms in a wild frenzy of passion.
"Yeah, Gary baby, fuck her harder," Margie suddenly heard Jamie's harsh sadistic voice sneer through her drugged haze. "Give the hot little cunt all that big fucking cock of yours. Her husband can't do it so somebody's got to."
"You sure she's married to someone else, Jamie," Margie heard Janie ask in a deep heavy voice.
"Sure baby," Jamie answered. "Her husband is some hot-shot detective, but he don't give a shit who his little wife fucks," he laughed.
Vaguely Margie tried to listen to the obscene voices and their continual jeering, but the drugs and the slamming cock were too much for her. She was ready to cum now, to release all the terrible tensions that had built up over the last seven empty years. Rolling like a gigantic tidal wave, the first fiery eruption of her volcanic orgasm lifted her writhing body highger and she bucked backwards with her jerking buttocks to meet the final onslaught of Gary's massive throbbing prick. She was dimly aware of the torrents of sperm that shot deep into her claspiing hair-lined pussy as every muscle in her tortured body raged with a blinding flash of flaming orgiastic rhythm, jerking her body savagely time and time again, until with the last rippling twitch of her muscles she blacked out, satisfied, exhausted and only vaguely aware of the terrible infidenlity that was becoming a merciless habit with her.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Gimme a crescent wrench," the man called out from beneath the car. His greasy hand reached out and waited, then he called again: "Hey, Jamie, goddammit, gimme that fuckin' wrench!"
Jamie Barth stood a few feet from the old sedan not hearing what the other mechanic had said. Half-asleep on his feet, he leaned against a workbench nodding his foggy head trying to capture a few precious minutes of rest. He had arrived home that morning just in time to change clothes and drive to work. Now standing at the bench, his memories were unclear, but still vivid enough for him to recall the screaming pleadings of Margie Carney as Gary had screwed her, then while he screwed her, then half a dozen other men who had been at the club the night before. Man, she was really somethin', he thought in his half-sleep. Damn near a fuckin' nympho....
"Hey goddammit!" a harsh voice yelled in his eaar. "What the hell's the matter with you today? Too much goddamn pussy last night?"
"W-what?" Jamie asked, groggy from the narcotics of the night before.
The mechanic looked at him and put a greasy hand on his shoulder. "Hey, boy, you really musta tied one on last night. Come on, let's grab a cup of Java and wake you up."
Jamie shook his head and followed Lefty Rich into the stockroom of the Acme garage for a cup of his thick black coffee. The two men had worked together for more than four years, ever since Jamie was released from the Army, but they had never become close friends. Lefty was married and could never join Jamie on his wild nights out because of his wife and two sons. Consequently, they enjoyed only their lewd conversations about women together.
"Here," Lefty said holding out an almost boiling cup of the hot coffee. "See if this'll wake ya up."
Smiling in gratitude, Jamie took the proffered cup and sipped gingerly at the burning liquid. Lefty, at twenty-eight, was only three years older than Jamie, but looked closer to forty than he should. Jamie had talked to him about wild exploits, confiding sometimes to the older man as if he were an older brother. He knew that Lefty envied his freedom and had often passed up chances to join the bachelors on their nights out, even though he was almost willing to risk a divorce for a single night on the town-"If it weren't for my boys...." he often said.
"Tell me about it," Lefty said, eager to know what kind of night had left Jamie so hung over.
"Yeah, tell us about it," another voice came from the doorway. It was Ray Wallace, another of the married mechanics who worked for Acme. "They way you look, you ought to be in a hospital. Your eyes look like they're gonna bleed to death."
"They feel like it, too," Jamie murmured. "You oughta see 'em from the inside."
"OK, OK, cut the bull," Lefty interrupted. "I wanna hear what the hell you did last night to fuck you up so bad."
Taking another sip from the burning coffee cup, Jamie began to tell them about the party the night before. He told his companions that it happened at a house-party, and not at a nightclub, also neglecting to say anything about drugs. After all, they were older guys, he thought often, and wouldn't understand anything about pot.
"Wow," Lefty whispered when Jamie finished telling them about Margie and her uninhibited screwing. "Goddamnn, man, I'd like ta get me some of that stuff."
"Yeah," Ray murmured whistfully. "Me, too."
"Well, shit," Jamie said as if he owned the whole world. "Why didn't ya say so. I can fix you guys up any time you want her."
"Bull!" Lefty sneered, but Ray showed his interest.
"How could you fix it, man," he asked. "You know goddamned well we can't ever get away from the house at night alone. My old lady'd skin my balls if she ever thought I was trying to sneak out without her!"
Jamie looked at both men through his foggy eyes. He knew that if he were to let them have a piece of her sweet young tail, they would think he was damn near some kind of magician. Margie was young, had a beautiful face and was built like a goddamn movie staryeah, those guys'd really dig a pice of her action.
"OK," Jamie said with bravado. "So who says ya gotta do it at night?"
"Sure, man, we'll just pop over to her pad for a quickie during lunch," Lefty said sarcastically, half-angry because he wouldn't be able to try out the young housewife in bed.
"Why not?" Jamie shot back at him. "We'll just take an extra half hour or so. The boss doesn't mind. Her place is about ten minutes from here. We could be there by ten after twelve and back to the shop no later than one thirty. Ol' Jake isn't gonna give us any static for takin' a few extra minutes for lunch. What's he gonna do: fire all of us?"
"Yeah, Lefty," Ray said eagerly, looking at his two friends. "Our old ladies'd never catch us during lunch."
For a moment Lefty Rich looked at the two men in the small room with him. It would be so easy, and Jake'd never fire the three of them at once for bein' late. And besides, it's been so long since I've had any strange pussy, he thought and nodded his head.
"Great," Jamie exclaimed. "Lemme have another cup of coffee, then we'll be ready to go. Man is that homey broad gonna be glad to see us."
* * *
Tears streamed over Margie Carney's pale cheeks as she looked at her reflection in the toaster, waiting for the bread to pop up. She had arrived home at eight o'clock that morning, staggering through the back door and weaving toward her bedroom. She had tried to sleep, but unlike Jamie, she could recall everything from the night before, and now in the glaring reality of daylight she wallowed in self pity at what she had done.
Whore! she thought over and over again, remembering all the faceless men who had come into the bedroom after Gary had finished with her. It wouldn't have been so bad if they had raped her, but she knew that she had cried out for more each time one of the men finished. They would climb on her, each of them confronting her with new techniques, then climb off after finishing their closing acts leaving her unconscious for a few minutes until a spash of cold water from a greasy glass would awaken her and she would take on the next man, yelling obsceneties at him, bucking and wailing like an animal. Not once had she tried to make them stop! Not once had she protested as another naked man had climbed onto the bed with her! Instead she had succumbed each time to the insatiable desires of her drugged mind and body.
Even after she had arrived in the safety of her apartment the swollen red organ had ached with relentless desire. She had examined it with her trembling fingers, still amazed by its enslavement of her whole being.
It could have been the marajuana and hashish, she thought, but knew that they did nothing more than release the hidden desires that lived in secret pockets of her confused mind.
It seemed so unfair, she thought bitterly. Why hadn't Ben ever aroused her like that? Why did it have to be a gang of depraved strangers who unlocked the sex-starved passions of her youthful slender body? Gary ... he'd been good to her, though, and she didn't think of him as a depraved stranger ... they-they'd shared something last night, though her foggy memory couldn't remember exactly what.
Nothing was right any more. She'd never shared a similar experience with her husband, and now she felt that she couldn't even face him in the daylight. If he ever found out what she'd done with those men ... Oh God! If he ever found out anything that she had done in the last few days. In less than a week she had killed an innocent child with her car, lied to her husband, gone to bed with a skinny black-haired extortionist, then ended up by writhing in a strange bed like an animal with half a dozen men whose faces she never really saw....
Who's to blame, she pleaded to an unnamed spirit. Who's fault is it?
Suddenly her reflection in the chrome toaster became fogged and she jerked her tousled head up to see smoke coming from the top of the small antique appliance. That's all I need, she thought and pulled the burning toast from the toaster. It's after twelve o'clock and I'm trying to fix breakfast when I should be having lunch; and I can't even fix toast any more.
She walked dejectedly to the sink and threw the burnt toast into the garbage disposal when a loud, bang jerked her around and she saw Jamie Barth and two strange men standing in the open doorway.
"You oughta keep that locked," he said pointing at the door. "You never can tell who might try to get in."
Margie stood staring at the three men, then pulled her loose robe tightly to her neck, not wanting them to see any part of her naked body. "W-what do you want?" she stammered finally as they entered like conquering pirates and slammed the door behind them.
"Well, it's after twelve," Jamie leered, "And we thought we'd come over for some lunch."
Margie looked at the other two who nodded in nervous agreement. She knew they must work with Jamie because of their grease-stained hands and aged marks of dirt and oil that soiled their faces. They were both older than Jamie, but he seemed to be the acknowledged leader of the small pack. Why would they come here to eat? she asked herself, afraid to try to answer. Jamie was cruel and vicious and she knew that for the moment she'd better go along with him unless she wanted real trouble. He was still the holder of the tailpipe and her unquestioned master.
"S-sit down," she murmured. "I've got some ham for sandwiches, but that's all."
"Great, baby," he smiled at her. "We'll just sit right down and wait for 'em then."
Margie started to fix the sandwiches while trying to listen to their murmuring conversation at the table. There were hurried whispers and Jamie's unmistakable obscene giggling, but she couldn't understand anything that they said behind her back.
Finally Jamie spoke loud enough for her to hear: "Great little piece of ass, don't ya think, boys?"
The girl gasped at his obscene words. He wouldn't dare try to do anything here in broad daylight. No he couldn't. She'd scream for help and he'd be thrown in jail ... but then so would she. No, he couldn't be planning anything! Please, no! Dear god, no!
"Come 'ere baby," Jamie ordered. "I want the boys to see what you really look like."
Frozen with terror, Margie stood by the counter, not able to obey his command. She knew what he wanted, the horrid cruel man. Why did he try to make things so much worse for her? Why couldn't he just leave her alone?
"Get your ass over here," he shouted just loud enough to send a frightening chill up her spine and slowly she obeyed, walking to the table where the three lewdly grinning men sat.
"Hey, Jamie," Lefty said quietly. "If she don't wanna, maybe we oughta leave."
"No sweat," the younger man answered and turned to look at the dissheveled young housewife who stood trembling before them. "Ya see baby," he continued, looking directly at the girl. "We came over for lunch, and we're gonna have you for dessert!"
"Jamie, n-no," she begged, tears flooding her eyes. "Please leave me alone. I can't take any more."
"Sure ya can," he sneered at her and suddenly reached out and grabbed the loosely tied belt of her robe, pulling it free and allowing the front of her robe to open momentarily, exposing the deep cleavage between her full rounded breasts and the soft furry red triangle that blanketed her trembling pubic mound. She grabbed at the robe and pulled the front tightly together, backing away from the table and the depraved Jamie Barth.
Like a pouncing leopard, Jamie jumped up from the table and grabbed the struggling terrified girl and pulled the white robe from her trembling body. She felt a cool rush of air cover her naked skin and tried desperately to conceal the tiny red nipples at the peaks of her firm resiliant breasts, while covering the soft downy triangle at the juncture of her thighs.
"Bitch," Jamie yelled at the terrified girl and slapped her hard on the cheek. "I said we wanted a good look at you, now Goddamnit stand up and drop your fucking hands!"
Sobbing fitfully like a terrified child, Margie slowly stood up straight and removed her covering hands from her quivering white flesh. Tears flowed freely over her flushed cheeks as the two other men whistled at her unblemished beauty standing naked in front of them. Now she knew why Jamie had come. He was going to make a real whore out of her and give her to all his filthy friends! Oh God, what's happening to me, what's happening....
"Pretey goddamned nice, huh?" Jamie said to his two friends, then turned to the trembling, crying girl. "Now fix us some lunch, bitch. Well get to you after we eat."
Frightened and unable to think of a solution, the naked young wife turned her back to the men and continued to make the sandwiches, trying bravely to act as if she still had her clothes on. But the tears stung at her cheeks and forced her to recognize exactly what her horrifying situation really was. There were three men in her kitchen, watching her naked body fixing sandwiches ... three men who would rape her, make love to her against her will, humiliate her more than she could imagine. But worse yet, she knew that the real enemy was the horrible unleashed demon that lay dormant between the protective lips of her trembling vagina. She knew that if they got her into a bed she wouldn't be able to control the passions that erupted from the tiny nerve center. She was a grown woman, a captive in her own home, but more of a slave to her own perverted desire than she was to the men who sat watching her.
Jamie was talking softly to the two men, but they weren't really listening. Instead they watched the jiggling white moons of the girl's buttocks as she shifted her weight uneasily. They were both married men, holding respectable jobs and neither of them had ever had a chance to cheat on his wife. Now they were being given a beautiful, sensuous woman for lunch, to hell with the sandwiches. She was naked and shivering with fright, but her fear only made them want to screw her even more. She would be helpless and vulnerable against the three of them....
"Jamie," Ray asked softly. "Are we gonna have enough time for the three of us to get our turns with her?"
"Our turns! Hell, man," he answered. "We aren't gonna take turns."
"What the hell!" Lefty almost shouted. "You said we were gonna get a piece of her, and now you say we don't get our turn!"
"Cool it, man, just cool it," Jamie told him. "We don't need to take turns 'cause we're all gonna fuck her at the same time."
Across the tiled kitchen Margie gasped at the unexpected proclamation. All three at the same time! That's impossible! But her loins didn't think it was possible as it began its obscene tinglings again deep within the confines of her warm soft vaginal lips.
"Shocked ya, huh?" Jamie asked, a lewd grin on his face. "It's easy. We did it that way to a chick about two months ago and she almost went out of her fuckin' mind.
"Yeah, Jamie, but how?" Red asked, his penis beginning to grow slowly at the obscene thoughts that flashed through his mind.
"First we draw straws to see who gets what part of her, then the rest is easy. All ya do is get one guy to lay down and hold his cock in the air. Then the other two lift the broad onto the cock and set her on it. Got it so far?"
The two married mechanics nodded in agreement, eager to hear the rest of the depraved plan.
"OK, then we push her forward so that while one guy's cock is in her, her ass is up in the air. Then the second guy sticks his big hot dick into the same hole while the third guy pushes him in."
"Jesus," Ray whistled. "Her pussy'd be so tight I'd cum before I ever got in her."
"Well, shit," Jamie replied sharply. "You'll just have to control yourself. There's no sweat after you get both buys in her pussy fuckin' her at the same, their cocks rubbin' together."
"What's the third guy do?" Lefty asked shifting uneasily in his chair and glancing at the trembling, nude figure of the girl across the room.
"He doesn't do nothing at all, except get his rocks blown off by that sweet young cunt's hot sucking mouth."
"Goddamn," Ray gasped. "That's the wildest thing I ever heard of!"
"You better believe it," Jamie told him. "Now everybody get out a coin and we'll flip to see who gets fucked and who gets sucked."
Margie shuddered in terror as she listened to her fate. What makes a man so depraved and sick she thought, tears streaming from her eyes. He was making them do all those awful things to her and she wouldn't be able to do anything but comply, or suffer a broken marriage and a few years in prison. Life's just not woith it! Maybe she'd be better off in jail ... but she knew that was a lie. She needed medical help not prison. Something had to be done about her starved sexual desires, and someone had to stop Jamie ... But who? Ben couldn't ... maybe Gary ... Her confused mind searched frantically for a solution as she sobbed silently over the sandwiches. She'd just have to blot them out of her mind ... she couldn't let them get the best of her no matter what they did. If she kept thinking about it she'd lose her mind.
"What'sa matter, baby," Jamie's cruel voice asked her. "Those big bad tears ain't gonna help you. What you need is some real men to give that hot little pussy of yours the help it needs."
"Yeah, you just leave it to us," Ray chimed in with his gravel voice.
Margie stood in front of them not bothering to try to cover her nakedness. She barely heard Jamie tell her to go to the bedroom, but followed his orders anyway, not really caring what they did to her. There would be a way, somehow to get back at Jamie for all of his horried cruelties, but for now she would just have to do what he told her.
Lefty and Ray were quickly stripping off their sweat soaked clothes while Margie stood by her bed watching them absently. She could see the sinewey muscles of their lean bodies ripple as they each stood on one foot, taking off their stained trousers. Their penis's were limp, but she could see that they were already beginning to grow in anticipation of the horrible rape of her supple young body. Jamie, however, was dressing behind her, and she didn't want to turn to face him, afraid that she might spit at him. Her hatred boiled, but there was nothing she could do to him, not today anyway.
"Twin beds, huh?" Jamie sneered from behind her. "Boy ol' Ben must be a real fuckin' nothin' to have twin beds when he's got a hot piece of ass like you in the house."
Margie trembled at his obscene words and clenched her teeth tightly together in anger. She heard him ask which bed was hers and she pointed to Ben's neatly made bed not wanting them to take her on her husband's bed. But Jamie only laughed when he looked at the rumpled sheets that she had tried to sleep in eariier.
"No, baby, Ben's been gone for too long for you to leave his bed messed up. Now stop fuckin' around and get onto that one!"
Filthy, cruel man, she thought bitterly and sat on Ben's bed. They would leave her nothing ... she had no more pride no more respect. She was going to be raped by three men in her husband's bed and there was no way out for her. She couldn't struggle they'd only hurt her. Oh God, if Ben only knew what was happening in his own bed while he's out hunting for a hit and run driver ... a hit and run driver who was his own faithless, sex-starved wife.
The tears had stopped but a tired sob slipped from her throat as Ray pushed her back onto the mattress, and then placed one hand roughly over the softness of her left breast. She wasn't really frightened; more helpless than anything else, especially helpless against the tingling that was breathing life into her clitoris as it nestled in the warmth of her soft hair-lined vaginal lips. She had no control over the sensuous ripples that would soon come from the swelling organ. There was nothing she could do but feel a terrible shame and humiliation at the excitement rising deep in her belly against her will. Maybe that was the punishment that her God was giving her for having killed the innocent teenager with her car.
Breaking her scrambled thoughts was the sudden touch of rough wet skin against the ivory sleekness of her thighs. She looked up to see Ray's crew cut head bobbing along the long supple flesh, his hands reaching for her knees and spreading them further so that his lips could find their salacious way toward the down covered apex below her navel. Her swelling clitoris was eagerly responding to the lascivious touch of his hard wet tongue along her sensuous legs, but her mind begged not to be overcome by the red swelling bud's demanding passion. She held her head up, watching in disgust as he eagerly ran his tongue to the flowering lips of her vagina, sending shivering ripples of unwanted pleasure through her loins.
Jamie Barth watched, too, with an obscene grin covering his face. He'd arranged the whole thing, a triple fuck! He was proud of his idea and glad that he could punish the girl for rejecting him before. She was now not only his slave, but the sexual subserviant of two other men in the room also. One of them was sliding his fingers through the soft downy pubic hairs that covered her moistening vaginal lips, while the other two watched, their cocks standing at attention, filled with warming blood and a pulsing desire to slide inside the warm confined of her quivering pussy. Jamie felt his massive stiff cock as it reached erection and massaged the now throbbing organ as he watched Ray's head bury itself in the silken red pubic hairs. He could hardly wait ... but he would.
Lefty, his eyes glazed with the rekindled passion that he had lost soon after his marriage, watched Ray's bobbing head sliding up and down through the moist pink slit between the helpless girl's limp thighs. This would be the first woman he had fucked besides his wife ever since he was married, and she was goddamned beautiful. He watched with aroused envy as Ray slowly rubbed his lust-incited tongue along the moistening warm crevice that divided the ruffled pink lips of her fear clenching pussy. Back and forth, slowly, evenly he traced a path through the warming crevice until his tongue touched something that startled him enough to open his glazed eyes. Goddamn, he breathed through his pursed lips as he looked at the warm, jerking ciitoris that throbbed only a few inches from his face. He'd heard about women with excitable like that, but never thought he'd see one. It sat up, hard and stiff just like a man's prick, he thought nervously. His wife didn't have nothin' like that! Christ, it's no wonder this broad gets turned on like Jamie says.
His eyes still open, Ray leaned forward and pursed his lips against the quivering pink clitoris, then sucked it into his mouth, hearing the girl let out an uncontrolled moan of pleasure. Fuck! he thought and began sucking harder at the throbbing bud as her continued whimperngs spurred him to lust-incited frenzy, thrashing his head and rubbing his nose along the flooding pink crevice, never for a moment letting go of the excited pink clitoris. The others all watched excitedly as the girl began to writhe on the bed in an unwilling response to the voracious sucking at her helpless loins. She knew it would happen, she knew it! The tormenting tongue had aroused her sex-starved clitoris and there was no way for her to control it. Somehow, every time another man touched her, it became easier for her to reach the erupting orgasms that she had been denied for so many years. The simple thought of the word, "orgasm" started the contractions in her abdomen and she fought viciously for control. I can't cum, I just can't, she begged her unseen spirit, but the ravenous sucking at her quivering loins was becoming almost too much.
Ray's head rolled back and forth frantically in a burning urge to suck the helpless girl to climax. He felt the soft downy pubic hairs nestling against his cheek massaging his own rough skin with their silken softness and moistening his face with the burning juices that now flowed freely from her soft moistening vagina. Lefty was slowly stroking his massive two inch thick cock while he waatched his partner drive the defenseless girl into a jerking frenzy on her own absent husband's bed. He wondered for a second as he watched her uncontrollable thrashing, if his own wife would react to the same kind of sucking. He'd have to try it tonight when he got home; maybe that would loosen her frigid pussy up. But soon he dismissed his wife from his mind as he watched the obscene perversion on the bed. Lefty had never done anything like this before, though he had thought of it many times, and now that this was the real thing, he didn't know how to react. As he unknowingly stroked his throbbing cock, he looked at Jamie to see him rapidly rubbing his own rigid shaft in a frenzied rhythm with Ray's ravenous sucking mouth, and realized suddenly that he, too, was masturbating. Goddamn, what a bunch of fucking perverts, he thought to himself and chuckled out loud.
Margie, though, couldn't hear his depraved laugh. She felt the rising tide of a quick orgasm pressing for release in the wet, yet untouched confines of her clasping wet vagina. She wanted to stop it, but couldn't unless Ray stopped his obscene tongue in the next few seconds.
For the moment Ray suddenly seemed to be on her side. He was half-crazed with lust as he sucked at the girl, but could sense her coming climax and decided to stop. It was great to eat a girl until she came, but he wanted to see how this hot little cunt would act when two guys fucked her at once. Yeah, By God, he'd wait for that. For a second more, he lapped at the throbbing pink clitoris then lifted his head away from her aching crotch, her aroused moisture trickling off his slack chin.
"Groovy pussy, man," he said aloud and licked his moist lips free of the fiery juice.
"You son of a bitch,'" Jamie shouted at him. "She's burnin' up, ready to cum and you quit on us!"
"Hey, look, baby," Ray warned him. "We're all in this thing together and I just want everybody to get some of her. Besides, I've never screwed a broad with other guys, and I'm not gonna cheat myself out of it!"
Margie listened while they argued, relieved that Ray had stopped his tormenting tongue before it was too late. She breathed heavily and tried to think of something that would take her tortured mind away from the horrid depraved scene taking place here in her husband's bed, but her eyes wouldn't leave the naked bodies of the three arguing men in front of her. They looked so obscenely ridiculous, the three of them naked, their rigid penis's jutting out from their muscled bodies as they argued over why Ray had stopped. Each of them was touching his own throbbing organ with his fingers, stroking softly along the pulsing purlish flesh, unawore that the girl was watching.
While Margie tried to regain her composure, the three men finally reached an agreement and turned their lustful eyes toward the bed.
"OK, Lefty," Jamie said. "Go ahead and lie down, and we'll put that tight little cunt on top of you."
Margie voluntarily got off the bed while Lefty stretched out, then responded submissively as the other two prodded her to get up and straddle Lefty's spread eagled form. Without instructions she started to lower herself over his hard twitching cock, carefully gauging the distance. Jamie's hot sweating hands grasped the subtle curve of her quivering hips and guided her downward, looking underneath her trembling white buttocks to see if she were in the right position. Tears formed in her hate-filled eyes as she crouched over the throbbing shaft, humiliated by her position, and angry that her pulsing clitoris waited so eaagerly for the depraved rape of her body to begin.
As the blunt rubbery head of Lefty's cock settled in the moist pink vaginal opening, he took her hips with his hands, forcing Jamie to let go, and wriggled her buttocks in small lewd circles, embedding the engorged tip half an inch into the warm confines of her soft hair-lined pussy. Jamie and Ray stood back and watched the girl's contorted face as she readied herself for the hateful intrusion. Suddenly she gasped as Lefty pulled her down onto the throbbing shaft and sank its flaming hardness deep into the smooth confines of her wet quivering cunt. She quenched another squeal of pain and bit her lower lip as she felt the pulsing head push against the tiny hardness of her cervix, shooting the remembered shocks of flashing light and pleasure through her loins.
It was no use, she thought bitterly as the tingling from her quivering cuntal walls rippled through her widespread thighs. She was a sexual slave to her own body and would respond like a savage beast to the rock-hard weapon that now completely filled her to the full depths of her being. Sex really had become her obsession, and it was Jamie's fault. He had started her on this terrible, sensual road, and now he watched her, his lewd giggling permeating the room. Ray had almost forced her to climax in front of all of them, and now with Lefty's throbbing penis buried inside her yearning vagina, she knew that no climax would ever be far off for her....
Slowly, unknowingly she began to rock back and forth on the throbbing blood-filled cock in an unconscious effort to sap the strength from her body and throw herself into a helpless state of post-climactic exhaustion. But they weren't ready to let her off so easily, and from behind her back Ray pushed her forward so that her breasts hung loosely downward, jiggling in the humid air as her taut red nipples strained straight out from her full rounded breasts. Lefty's engorged prick strained almost to the breaking point as she bent over, but quickly loosened itself and bent with her twisted body, making itself more comfortable. Leaning forward with the massive throbbing cock inside her stretching wet vagina, she felt a rush of hot air enter the passage and realized that the angle had forced her ravaged wet vaginal to spread even further apart so that now there was room for the second perverted intruder.
She gasped fearfully as she felt the sudden burning sensation of Ray's pulsing cock slide along the insides of her trembling ivory thighs and press against the open moist lips of her vagina. The rubbery thick head probed at the small opening above Lefty's massive prick, pushing for entry into her already-filled cunt. Oh, God, she pleaded silently. Don't let them do it. There isn't room, there just isn't room!
But her silent pleading went unheeded and Ray's long heavy prick pushed forward, forcing her fiery, aching vagina to spread wider until, suddenly, it slid inside the gaping orifice. She was going to be split wide open! It was too much, two men's pricks sunk in one girl's straining vagina; her vagina! They had to stop before they killed her! But as the pain racked her body and she sobbed uncontrollably, the center of all her passion called softly at her tortured confused mind. It didn't really hurt that much, not as much as she imagined. Think of how much better it feels, the soundless voice echoed. Instead of one driving prick inside her hungry waiting pussy there were two, rubbing slightly back and forth against each other, filling every possible crevice and pore of her clasping cuntal walls. Listening to the voice, she involuntarily moved back and forth in the slow rhythm that the two throbbing cocks were setting. One cock drove inward, while the other sucked its way halfway out, then started to return again. It was like being fucked by two different ... but she was! She was being skewered by two different cocks, in one constant obscene motion, sliding along the tormented smooth flesh of her flooding cunt in repturous ecstasy.
She moaned an uncontrolled sigh of passion and opened her tightly clenched eyes to the matted pubic hairs that surrounded the thick base of Jamie's throbbing huge prick only a few inches from her face. This was it, the final assault! Broken images of Janie sucking at the massive organ flashed through her mind and she knew what she must do. Not only Jamie demanded it, but her deep well of lust-maddened desires commanded it. Without any prodding she ovaled her lips to accept the purplish rubbery head and instantly sucked it into her wide open mouth. Now it was complete! Two men were fucking into her ravaged fiery cunt at the same time, while she sucked hhe burning head of the third deranged rapist, bucking her body involuntarily as they skewered her mercilessly. She hated them! She hated Jamie and all iren for what they had done to her, but still she submitted. Still she did every obscene thing that they commanded! There was no refusal to the powerful demands of perverted sex; no refusal to anything that would give her the flood juices of climax!
CHAPTER SIX
The clock in front of the jewelry store read seven-thirty, six hours since Jamie and his two depraved married friends had left Margie's apartment. Her tears had long since dried, but she couldn't help remembering their insane rape of her tortured body. She could still feel the aching raw soreness between her long trim thighs where the two swollen penis's had ravaged her insides mercilessly.
The act itself, though horrifying, was not her most vivid memoory. The worst of the entire horrifying experience was her own frenzied cries to the depraved rapists for more ... more, more she had yelled through her screaming obscenities as they pummeled her helpless body ruthlessly until she had finally blacked out into unconsciousness. They had left her lying sweating and unconscious in her husband's bed where she finally awoke amidst the musky smells of sex and the ugly taste of sperm around her full, red lips.
Seething with frustrated anger she had managed to clean herself, then tried to get in touch with Gary.
Through dozens of agonizingly worthless phone calls she had finally traced him to a small pool hall downtown where she waited for him now. She stood on the sidewalk outside, waiting for him to finish his last game. He'd sounded friendly enough over the telephone, not lewd and ugly like Jamie always did. Maybe he'd help her. God, anything was worth a try....
"Hello, Margie," she heard him say as he walked through the dirty glass swinging door.
"Oh, hi," she said, startled by his voice behind her. "How was your game?"
"I lost," he said roughly. "I've been losing all afternoon, but what the hell. That's no big deal."
"Can we talk here," she asked suddenly, wanting very much to get on with her request.
"Sure, sure," he said quickly. "You're really, hot about something. What is it?"
"Well it's about Jamie," she said softly, not sure if Gary and Jamie were friends.
"That runt. What about him?"
"I take it you're not his friend," she said, continuing after he nodded silently. "Well, he's blackmailing me for something that I didn't do, but I can't prove it and there's no way for me to stop him by myself. I need your help."
Gary studied her for a moment, wondering exactly what kind of help she wanted. "What do you have in mind?"
"I-I really don't know. It's just that somebody has to make him leave me alone. If not I'll go crazy, I swear it!"
"Now settle down. I don't want a cryin' broad on my hands. Somebody might arrest me for beating you on the city streets." he smiled at her, trying to give her some kind of assurance that he was on her side. "You've got a pretty big order for me. Jamie may be only a mechanic, but he's got a lotta friends in this town, and if someone messed him up they might find themselves dead in an alley."
Was he afraid of Jamie? she asked herself. Maybe he won't help. Oh God what am I going to do?
"There would have to be something to make it worthwhile," he said, ignoring her questioning silence. "I could mess him up pretty good, make him swear on his life that he'd leave you alone. The only thing is, I couldn't do it for nothin'."
"Oh Gary," she interrupted. "I'll do anything, anything, if you'll help me."
He looked at her trying to hide a sly grin. There was something she could do that would make it worthwhile. Besides he'd wanted to get rid of Jamie for a long time. That punk was muscling in on too many of his deals, getting to be too powerful in their circle of small time hoods. This is a perfect opportunity to run his ass out of town.
"Well, the one thing you could do for me, we've already done together anyway," he said, looking up at the jewelry store clock.
"What do...." she stared to say, but remembered the only thing they had done together. They'd shared something undefinable that one night, and there seemed to be no reason for her not to do it just one more time, especially if he could stop Jamie from haunting her. Ben ... well, poor Ben doesn't know about anything else, so one more certainly can't hurt. Besides it was so nice ... Her thoughts continued while he lit a cigarette. She could still feel the painful ache between her long supple thighs, but knew that it would go away if she were with Gary ... no, once more wouldn't hurt if it meant getting rid of Jamie and all her troubles.
"You know I'm married," she asked, stalling him for a moment. "Sure, but that shouldn't matter."
"W-where do you want to go?" she asked uncertain iy.
"Oh, hell, that's no problem. There's just one more thing I'd better tell you, because I don't think you quite understand what I mean."
She looked at him quizzically, unsure of herself.
"You know I told you that I just lost another pool game. Well, I owe those guys some money in there. But if I told them about you, you could probably make a fair trade for me, and I'd be in the clear."
You're crazy," she whispered in disbelief. "I'm not a whore, a common slut. I only did those other things with Jamie and then with those other men because I was forced to. I can't do something like that. Oh my God, you must be sick!"
"Ah hell, no sweat," he said casually. "It's just that I'm probably the only guy in town who could turn Jamie off and get away with it. But if you don't want that badly enough, then we don't have to worry, do we?"
They're all alike, she thought bitterly. All men are the same. Sex, sex, sex, is all they think about. They don't care about human feelings. But as she looked at Gary's noncommittal face she remembered Jamie and his cruel torments. He'd forced her to do things she had never dreamed of before', and now he held her powerfully in his evil grip. She had to get out of his trap somehow....
"Why can't we do it, just you and I," she asked. "I really enjoyed it with you, Gary, and I would again."
"No," he said softly. "We can do that anyway some other time. I'm in a lot of financial trouble right now, and you'd be helping me as much as I'm helping you if you let a couple of the boys get their kicks. Hell, they don't mean anything to you, not nearly what Jamie means."
He was right. They meant nothing to her, and it wouldn't really be unfaithful. Besides, Jamie would be out of her life forever.
"OK," she said softly.
"That's great, Margie. You don't know how much money you've saved me. Wait here a minute and I'll ask the guys if the trade's alright with them."
She stood on the street as he ran back into the pool hall and called his friends into a corner. The five long-haired pool hustlers left their tables and went to the corner.
"I've really got somethin' hot for you guys," he said looking at their expressionless faces and rubbing his hands together.
"You see that chick standing outside the door?" he asked and waited until they looked outside then returned their attention to him. "Who'd like to fuck that:"
One of them emitted a low soft whistle. "What makes you think she will?" one of them asked.
"For five bucks apiece you'll find out," he said.
"Christ, just another whore," another said. "I can get laid by one of them any time I feel like it."
"She's no whore, baby," Gary grinned. "She's a married chick who's got some problems. Besides, she's a friend of mine and I told her I'd help her out"
They all looked at each other, then at Gary, nodding slowly. He told them to meet him in the alley outside, "I'm gettin' my trick first, then I'll come to the end of the alley and get the next guy in line. That way all six of us'll get our rocks off."
"What if someone catches us," a tall red headed man asked.
"We can take care of that. Just stand at the end of the alley and look out for anyone, then just give a holler if they start coming into the alley."
They nodded in agreement and reached into their pockets and gave Gary the money. Easiest twenty-five bucks I ever made, he grinned to himself and walked out the doorway.
Outside he took Margie's arm and walked away from the pool hall toward the alley. He told her about the arrangement, and she wanted to back out immediately. What kind of girl did he think she was? She couldn't let five men use her in some dirty back alley. She had to keep some of her pride. But then he told her that there was no way to back out now. He'd given his word, and his friends trusted him. If she walked out on him he'd never be able to explain it ... besides she had to think about Jamie.
Margie could hear the five young men following about fifty feet behind them and felt uneasy, as if she were being followed by a pack of wolves. Gary's hand rested on her shoulder and rubbed gently at her soft skin. She could feel a cool summer breeze slither up the insides of her of her bare legs and she wondered why Gary had to be so heartless as to make such an awful proposition to her. She'd felt something when they had made love before, and she probably could feel it again if she were just going to be with him alone ... but that wasn't part of their bargain.
As they walked in the darkness she felt his hand slide down her shoulder and slip over the smooth round orbs of her buttocks, kneading the plaint flesh salaciously. "Gary, don't" she pleaded.
"You just turn me on too much, baby," he grinned at her. "I remember last night like it was still happening. I'll probably never forget that."
At another time, another place she might have smiled at his off-hand compliment, but as they walked, the five men not far behind, she couldn't find any reason to smile knowing they were watching Gary's hand toying with the resiliant flesh of her buttocks through her light summer dress.
A few steps further and they turned into the alley where he suddenly grabbed her and pulled her close to him, crushing his mouth over her full red parted lips. She felt his tongue slide easily into her mouth and stab at the tender red roof of her mouth, but she didn't respond and he let go of her.
"Down here," he said and walked toward the center of the alley. She could see the sillouettes of the five at the entranceway behind them, and the flickering light of a streetlamp at the far entrance.
"God!" she gasped aloud when she realized that they were going to take her right here in this dark alley standing against a wall.
He stopped beside some large empty packing crates and looked back to see if his friends were still there. She waited, listening to his heavy breath in the darkness then felt his hand slide under her dress and along the trembling flesh of her thighs. A chill ran up her spine, not from the cold, but from the cold realization that she was sinking deeper and deeper into a quagmire of sin. She was standing in an alley with a man who was not her husband, and his hand caressed her thighs, while five of his friends waited at the entrance to the alley waiting their turns to humiliate her innocent young body to serve their perverted primitive desires.
Suddenly she gasped and bit her lip as his fingers slipped under the tight elastic band of her lace bikini panties and slid quickly through the silken red pubic hairs to the moistening pink vaginal lips. She squirmed uncomfortably at the first uncontrollable tinglings of her clitoris, but didn't protest as he began rubbing the swelling bud expertly. She felt a strong pressure on her wrist and allowed her hand to be guided to the growing bulge in his trousers.
"Take it out,'" he ordered through his heavy breath and let go of her hand.
She fumbled for a moment with the zipper, rubbing her fingers unconsciously at the hardening bulge, then unzipped his pants and freed his thick pulsating penis from its prison. Involuntarily she began stroking the rigid shaft as it grew even larger, forcing her to remember the night before when he had skewered her mercilessly with the driving cudgel. And now, in the alleyway, she felt the tingling rising in her trembling loins as she recalled the rapturous love they had made less then twenty-four hours before. She had learned all too well to obey the commands of her erotically aroused senses, and rolled back her head to sigh with unwanted delight at the tortuous finger that brushed harder and harder against her swollen clitoris.
The finger left the throbbing red bud for a moment and grasped the top elastic of her skimy tight panties, pulling them easily down her hips and letting them fall to the ground. As she lifted her leg to kick them off her ankles, the wet ruffled lips of her vagina quivered in the sudden onrush of cool night air and she shuddered at the lascivious sensation. His hands kneaded at the pliant quivering orbs of her buttocks, tracing circles with his fingers along the pink moist crevice between them.
She looked up between the building at the sky above her with its blinking stars, and saw Orion. But she didn't want to talk to the constellation any more as she had as a girl. She had changed too much to talk to the stars any more. Instead her aroused senses felt the seeping liquid of unwanted erotic excitement slip through the soft red pubic hair and trickle down her long ivory thighs. She was going to be screwed outside under the stars in a dark alley, and yet somehow it didn't seem strange to her, only strangely exciting. Everything she could think of was exciting her to her quivering clitoris and confused mind. There was Jamie, the marajuana, the wild party with the girl on the stage, and even the five waiting young men to the entrance to the alley. All of these things seemed real to her, and nothing in the world outside of her own aroused desires had any meaning.
"Wow, baby," he whispered breathlessly and she realized that she was bringing him near a climax, by simply massaging the throbbing head of his rock-hard penis. "Turn around," he ordered.
Obediently she turned and leaned against one of the large empty wooden crates. She felt him raise her skirt up over her trembling buttocks, exposing the smooth round flesh to the bright moonlight that filtered down through the buildings to the floor of the darkened alley. His hands slid down the perspiring crevice and tapped for a second at the tiny hairless of her tiny puckered anus, shooting sparks of volcanic desire through her aching loins.
Eagerly she spread her long supple legs and bent further forward so he could have better access to her waiting vagina. She didn't feel wild and abandoned as she had the night before, but his teasing salacious touch still felt good, and good enough to cause a fresh flow of burning lubricating juices from her quivering vaginal entrance. Her smooth round buttocks jiggled as she felt him probe against her nicest pink lips with the purplish head of his throbbing thick cock, searching for the expanded trembling entrance to fiery cavern of her naked vagina. Margie moaned with delight as the engorged head grasped a foothold in the throbbing opening, and she clenched her buttocks in an erotic effort to wriggle the red flushed muscles of her vaginal passage.
Suddenly he shoved his slim hips forward and rammed the throbbing prick deep into the wet smooth confines of her clasping pussy, sending waves of pain and excited passion up her spine. She whimpered, half in pain and half in pleasure as his massive cock thrust deep inside the trembling pink passage. His hands gripped the smooth rounded curves of her hips and eagerly pulled her quivering buttocks back towards his rigid thrusting cock.
"Oooohhh," she moaned and responded to his rhythm with backward thrusts of her own, spurred by the obscene touch of his cold metallic zipper against her soft, naked buttocks. They were both clothed, yet here, standing in an alleyway, they were screwing like a pair of lust-maddened animals. There was no reason for it, yet she couldn't find any other reason in the back of her mind for not doing it. At this moment as his passion rose, she had no husband, no future and no past ... only the intensity of the moment ... the delicious electrifying, erotic present.
Another flow of fiery lubricating juices suped from her clasping, hair-lined pussy as she heard him groan with pleasure, pushing his throbbing hard cock deeper into her ravaged vagina from the rear. Everyone wants to do it from behind nowadays, she thought sarcasticly to herself, then suddenly whimpered out loud as he started rotating his hips in long lascivious circles, forcing his pulsating cock to brush against the deep inner walls of her ravaged vagina. He was panting almost uncontrollably, undulating his hips, then pulling his cock halfway out, only to thrust the huge organ forward again, with a hard jerking stab, filling her belly with the smooth rubbery head of his pulsating rod of flesh. He was screwing her in an alley like a filthy street whore, and she was enjoying it. He reveled in the fact that he had talked her into the obscene fucking so easily and masterfully. Sure, he'd get rid of Jamie Barth, but by God, he'd fuck this hot little bitch half to death before he'd ever release his hold on her. Now, she was his to use as he wished, and the thought of his newfound power spurred him to even greater heights of blistering excitement.
"Mmmm," she moaned in the darkness as he quickened his obscene fucking of her now rapidly clenching pussy from behind. She could feel his strong hands gripping the soft pliant flesh of her well-rounded hips, pulling her moonlike buttocks backward, brutally smacking her full, firm bottom against the coarse fabic of his trousers. She mewled with delight at the thunderous smacking that was stoking the raging fires of her rising climax. But behind her Gary was already enraptured in the tremendous pressures that were building in his swollen testicles. Hurrying, faster than before, he clenched his teeth at the painful clasping of her raging vagina, feeling the first throes of orgasm started peeling away at the tender insides of his balls, ripping like broken glass at the tortured rock-hard flesh until finally it came.
Like a raging torrent the flood of white burning sperm shot through the pulsing canals on the twitching underside of his stiff, throbbing cock, making his buttocks clench and unclench as he spastically jerked forward, squealing like a wounded animal in orgiastic obsession until all his flowing sperm exploded and filled the jerking girl's lust-maddened cunt to overflowing.
"Aaaaggghhhh," Margie suddenly cried out as his sperm filled her jerking cunt and sent her over the brink of climax into a wild flaming eruption of fire and blinding light until her writhing body fell limply over the empty packing case.
Half-conscious and almost exhausted she didn't feel him pull his deflated penis from her tightening pussy with a soft plopping sound and walk quietly away. She stood, leaning over the empty carton, unaware of the footsteps coming near her. Her quivering buttocks stood out in the erie moonlight in a lewd invitation for the second man to come directly to the packing crate where he quickly unzipped his pants.
She heard the zipper and braced herself for his obscene intrusion, not bothering to look back at him., She not only didn't want to see who he was, but wanted to remain anonymous herself. She shuddered as she felt both of her large hands slide over the trembling flesh of her full round buttocks, gently massaging the resiliant orbs in fascination. He'd never screwd a girl from behind before, and just stared at the trembling ivory bottom for a moment, his fingers fondling the soft flesh lightly with small tantalizing circles.
Like a cold machine she bent forward waiting for him to begin. She could hear his heavy breath as he moved against her, pressing his thick stiff rod between the open crevice between the cheeks of her hairless bottom. His throbbing penis, hard and erect, slid between her thighs, but missed its mark, and he gasped one fleshy cheek with his left hand, while his right hand wrapped around his searching cock and guided it to the wet open oriface -lined with soft, downy pubic hair. With a soul searching sigh he easily slid the passive organ into the stretched quivering pink opening, resting for a second inside the confines of her just-fucked cunt. She felt him move slowly backward, then forward again, both hands grasping at the trembling white flesh of her exposed backside, pulling her full-rounded hips toward him when he thrust his savage penis greedily forward.
As he intensified his frantic thrustings, punctuated by sharp obsessed grunts, Margie felt the smoldering erotic-fires of desire begin to burn again deep in her trembling belly. His increased obscene tempo was starting a new flood of vaginal juices, lubricating the hot sliding cock as it rasped along the heaving insides of her open, upraised cunt. The elctric shocks that had racked her body during her climax with Gary were returning and she jerked her twitching buttocks backward to meet his driving thrusts, but it just wasn't enough for her hardto-please pussy.
"More, she shouted at him. "Fuck me harder, more, now! Now!"
She felt him respond eagerly and suddenly slam his massive throbbing cock deep into her aching cunt in a spastic effort to meet her obscene demands. Her swearing had suddenly incited him almost to a fury and he drove at her with all the power in his aching loins, crushing and slamming against her jerking buttocks as he rose higher and higher on the perverted plane of orgasm.
"Oh," she gasped. "Oh, Oh, Fuck! Fuck! FUCK ME YOU BASTARD!!"
Bastard?! I'm no bastard you bitch, he thought through frenzied fucking and reared back, holding for one split second then rammed the whole weight of his body behind one powerful earth shattering thrust, driving his massive throbbing cock completely to the hilt, pushing the furthest confines of her clasping pussy up into the inner organs of her quivering stomache. The blunt rubbery point pressed viciously against her hard knob-like cervix and she gasped with joy as he withdrew his stabbing shaft then pummeled her again, stretching the smooth, wet cuntal walls to their greatest limits.
Now! Now! Oh God Now! her lust-maddened body screamed and she jerked her jiggling buttocks back against him, suddenly clenching his fiery stabbing spear with the powerful vaginal muscles and holding it still while she spastically shook her jerking bottom back and forth in a wild abandoned sexual frenzy until the rippled muscles in her suddenly exploded in an erupting volcanic orgasm that left her limp, hanging over the empty crage in a dejected, but fulfilled exhaustion.
Laying there, half-conscious, she was like a rubber toy being skewered by the sex-crazed man who could no longer control his unvented passions. His pummeling penis crushed her helpless backside again and again against the packing crate, but there was no pain, only the animal-like grunting that pushed through her barely parted lips.
Like a wild, sex-crazed animal he drove his throbbing cock timelcssly into her pink flaccid vaginal opening, short choking coughs rumbling from deep in his throat. He was erratic, out of control and thrusting aimlessly, skewering her from every angle with his rock-hard jerking cock while the stretched taut purplish skin felt as if it were going to be torn off with every spastic stroke. His rough hands helds her hips and pulled her tightly as fucked her like a short-cocked dog fighting for the flaming eruption for a long awaited climax.
She felt the jerking short and long strokes, knowing that he was near the end of his obscene passion. One thrust would be short and almost childlike, while the next drove savagely into the deep dark fiery orifice until the engorged head of his pulsating cock rammed hard against her cervix. She sensed his rough hands moving over her exhausted hips to the tops of her trembling thighs and suddenly jerk them upward, lifting her feet off the ground. Squealing with the fear that she migh fall, she held on to the top of the crate while the lust-maddened man held her quivering hips in the air, still pummeling with his spastic jerking thrusts of prolonged passion. Her wet pink clasping pussy was pointing straight back at him, giving him an even greater entry as he pulled her long ivory thighs further apart and lunged forward sinking the entire length of his massive lust-ridden prick into her straining stretched pussy, making her gasp, frantically with pain feeling as if he ravaged cunt had burst deep inside her.
A lewd grin across his shadowed face as she squealed and he lunged forward again. She could squeal all she wanted, by God. He'd fuck her until she'd pass out ... but he never got the chance. Suddenly she felt him stop his vicious thrusting, holding his long throbbing prick deep inside her, then shudder violently gasping for breath as the first jets of sperm shot from his aching balls through his jerking cock and spewed deep into her ravaged belly. Spasms of passionate fullfillment racked his body until finally he stood straight, breathing like an exhausted miler, and pulled his deflating penis from her burning vagina with a soft sucking sound.
He'd get her another time, he thought sadistically and dropped her to her knees, listening to her cry of pain as her knees hit the asphalt of the alley. He was done for now, but he'd find a way for more of that hot little pussy, that's for goddamned sure.
Painfully she got up from her knees, feeling the terrible ache between her weakened thighs. A throbbing pain came from the deep dryness of her vagina. The excited entrance was now raw as if it had been torn by two much savage use. Through the pain she bit her lip, looking up to see him tucking his shirt in his trousers and staring at her soft down-covered pubic mound.
He grinned a lewd toothy grin and walked away without a word as she straightened her rumpled skirt, then leaned against the packing crate and waited for the next one.
In less than a minute he came quickly up the darkened alleyway and stood in front of her, leering through his dark squinting eyes. He was a full head taller than she was and the muscles of his overdeveloped arms strained through the light material of his summer shirt.
Wordlessly she turned around, raised her skirt and leaned forward against the empty packing crate. But he had other plans and roughtly twirled her around and pushing her backwards down to the hard gravelly asphalt of the dirty alley floor. Margie tried to turn away from him and get up to relieve the biting pain of the rough greasy street, but he crushed her with his weight and tore at the thin straps of her dress, pulling it back to expose the quivering softness of her full rounded breasts. His finger and thumb pulled at the tiny pink nipple of one succulent breast to bring it to hardness, but the pain in her body had finally won over the maddening urge for sex and she trembled with fear instead of ecstasy. She could feel the rock hard bulge in his trousers as he lay over her, breathing like a wounded animal.
His heavy breath blew the dust by her head and she felt the terrible grinding pain of the pebbles beneath her. She tried to squirm into a more comfortable position, jiggling her long ivory thighs to ease the aching pain in her sore, dry vagina, but it didn't work.
His hand slid over her trembling white skin, working down over her quivering belly to the soft red pubic hairs that covered her aching crotch, then slid into the dry pink slit and rubbed at the limp cold clitoris.
She heard him unzip his pants, but didn't bother to react. She didn't care whether he fucked her or not. Her loins ached from the savage raping she had been subjected to during the last two days, and no longer carried the frightening tingling of passion through her long sleek body. The pressure of his strong hands pushed her weakened thighs apart and she let them lay limply as his rigid shaft slid along one thigh, then quickly entered her dry stretched vagina painfully.
Margie bit her lip to stifle a squeal of pain and lay motionless beneath him while he lifted her buttocks with his rough hands and began jiggling the soft white flesh in a futile effort to excite her. She let her head fall limply to one side as she listened to his lust-incited pantings, but she wasn't really there. No, she was on one of the small buildings above them, looking down at the ludicrous obsessed man driving his rock hard cock into her dry lifeless vagina. His massive twitching cock rasped roughly through her dry chaffed channel and she winced at the pain as he plunged in and out, unaware that she wasn't responding to his lovemaking. He was an animal, a man who had never loved a woman, only having fucked them for the primitive release of sperm from his pent up testicles. He was hurting her but didn't care at all. He was going to get his rocks off, fucking her here in the alley, and nothing else made any difference to his miniature brain.
Suddenly through her pain racked body she sensed a door opening onto the alley and looked to see a shaft of light shining over their half-naked bodies on the ground.
"S-someone's coming," she whispered quickly into his impassioned ear, but he didn't care.
"Fuck 'em," he grunted through clenched teeth and kept pummeling her burning dry pussy furiously.
If that's way he wants it, she thought cynically, then that's the way he'll get it. She had suffered every indignity she could possibly imagine and more. One more won't make any difference.
She heard the rusty creaking of a torn screen door and saw a bent shadow fill the shaft of light that covered her bare breasts and the cold white ass of the obsessed man who pummeled her helpless body with his jerking rigid cock.
Margie listened to a low whistle as an old janitor stood watching them, entrance by the lewd act taking place on the alley floor. The muscle-bound ape on top of her paid no attention to the staring old man, and fucked her harder as he soared higher and higher toward the blasting release of white hot cum that would relieve the terrible ache in his swollen balls. She could feel the old man's eyes staring at her and turned her head away while she heard the old man's heavy breathing as he watched, getting his first thrill in years, she thought bitterly.
The old man leaned in the doorway and struck a match to light his pipe. She could see his wrinkled face in the dancing light of the match, his tired eyes watching them on the alley floor, not thrilled, but mildly interested in the lewd spectacle he saw beyond his doorway.
The panting body on top of her began convulsing with the first spasms of orgasm and she gasped in pain as he jerked at her loins savagely, waiting for the volcanic eruption of sperm that would soon blast through his jerking cock. Her eyes screwed up in humiliation as the old man watched her, helpless and racked with raw pain on the black asphalt floor of the alley.
Then he raised his head he shoved his massive penis forward in one final lustful burst of passion emptying the hot, white liquid deep into her raw ravagaged vagina and soothing the tortured walls with its wetness, finally falling heavily on top of her panting through his open mouth.
Tears of frustration and humiliation filled her eyes as looked over the man's shoulder to see the old janitor dragging on his pipe and staring at her defenseless form. He could even be smoking pot in that pipe she thought bitterly, then watched him sigh with disgust and turn back into the doorway, shutting off the light and closing the creaking screen.
In a few minutes the brute had lifted himself off of her limp torso and left the alley quietly. She laid motionless on the asphalt, not caring that there were still three more of the perverted young men who would screw her mercilessly. Every bone and muscle in her body ached, but especially the tender raw flesh beneath the battered lips of her vagina. She had been screwed by three men in less than twenty minutes and the strain had been almost too much for her, she thought. I'll probably black out before the others finish, then they can use me like a useless doll, no feelings, no emotions, just a body and nothing more.
Her body limp with defeat, she listened to the clicking of footsteps coming up the alley. One more, she thought tiredly, always one more. Dimly she felt the strong hands.
That one left after buffeting her until his sperm too emptied into her tortured belly, then another sex obsessed maniac came, and another until all five of the young pool hustlers had impaled her limp body with their massive pricks, screwing her through her tiny, almost soundless whimpers of pain until they were done.
She had kept count. Six! That was all, she thought thankfully and started to pull herself away from the crate, but her knees buckled and as she fell, a long pair of strong arms caught her and lifted her, cradling her like a child.
"Jesus," she vaguely heard Gary whisper. "I never thought this would happen, believe me."
She closed her eyes to the sound of his voice vowing to get Jamie for her and try to repay her for the terrible mistake he had made. She finally passed out as he carried her lightly down the alley to his car, still promising to repay her for his horrible bargain ...
CHAPTER SEVEN
The antiseptic smell of the hospital filtered through Margie's nostrils for the last time as Ben led her out the front door and to his car. Ten days before, Gary had taken her to City General and left her with a nurse, telling the women that she had been raped. She had remained half-conscious for two days, before realizing where she was.
During the remaining week she recuperated in the sterilized bed, relieved that there were no men around except a few doctors and Ben during one painful visit each day. A police lieutenant had come to see her one afternoon a few hours after Gary had called her and whispered that Jamie had been taken care of. The lieutenant asked her a few questions about her assailant, then showed her a mug photo of Jamie Barth, whom she identified as her attacker just as Gary had told her to.
"It's too bad he can't be punished," the lieutenant said. "Somebody pushed him in front of a car yesterday and he died in the emergency room downstairs last night." Margie showed no feeling when the lieutenant told her what had happened. She answered as many of his questions as she could, not telling him that she knew Jamie Barth.
Now, after a long week of rest and self examination she was leaving the hospital to return to the home that she never wanted to see again.
"I've got a surprise for you," Ben told her with a sly grin as they drove home. "I hope you'll be pleased."
"I hope so too," she replied. "Just about anything would be good news to me now."
But Margie knew she was lying. Nothing could be good news for her after the last two weeks, she thought as she looked at her husband's grinning face. There was no more soreness between her thighs, but there was a terrible guilty ache in her heart. Implanted at the back of her mind in indelible vivid colors were the fragmented images of more than a dozen men who had violated her innocent body and left unerasable scars on her memory. She was a different woman now, she thought, knowledgable in the horrors of life's gutters. She had killed an innocent child, gone through a hideous infidelity to recover the incriminating evidence, and finally been the cause of Jamie Barth's death.
There was nothing to remove her guilt for any of the crimes. She had asked Gary to get rid of Jamie and he had taken her at her word, making sure that the deranged young mechanic met his end under the wheels of an unsuspecting automobile. It was a terrible way to die. Margie thought, but almost fitting for Jamie Barth, the man who had turned her from a dissatisfied housewife into a raving nymphomaniac, until she had almost completely disintegrated into a babbling moron.
Something had saved her from destruction, but she didn't really know what. Perhaps it was the inherited strength of her forefathers: perhaps just the knowledge that somehow she had to come out of all of her trials, no matter what.
A few minutes later they were home and Margie immediately went to the bathroom and started running the water for a nice long hot bath. She wanted to cry with relief, knowing that Jamie was out of her life forever, but she couldn't. There was still the terrible knowledge of her hit and run accident, not to mention her feelings toward her husband.
She could no longer feel any real love for this man who had come to her hospital bed every day trying to be cheerful and help her come back to reality. He was sweet, she thought but it's too late. Ben Carney, in his wife's eyes, was a sad and lonely man. She knew she could never love him again, not like she had when she was an arm waving, yelling cheerleader in high school. He was no longer the man who inspired that kind of love, and she was no longer the woman who could give it.
With a soft sigh she slowly lowered herself into the almost steaming hot water when the door creaked open and Ben poked his head in the door.
"I've got something to tell you," he said. "Do you mind if I come in?"
"No, of course not," she answered. Why should she mind now. Her husband had never really seen her nude, she thought, even though more than a dozen other men had glared at her sweating, writhing nakedness in the last two weeks. I suppose it's time he got a good look too, she thought wryly.
Ben sat himself on the side of the tub, picked up the washrag and began scrubbing wife's back.
"My promotion came through this morning," he told her.
Promotion? she thought. Why the promotion?
"I cracked the hit and run case last night and first thing this morning I found a note on my desk telling me to call a sign painter and have him put my name on the door as a full partner."
Margie let a relieved sigh pass through her lips. So Ben had found out after all, she thought. But why is he so cheerful when he knows I'll be going to jail? Damn! I never understand men.
"The whole thing was a terrible mistake to begin with," he said, softly rubbing the soapy cloth over her back. She could feel the gentleness of his touch on her skin, but wondered why he was taking so long. Was he enjoying this torture? Why didn't he just come out and accuse her so she could confess and get it all over with.
"I finally discovered that the witness had been wrong. She hadn't seen a convertible at all. It was a white Ford hardtop, the same year as your car."
"No! Impossible, it couldn't have been a hardtop, Margie thought frantically. I did it! I had to ... otherwise all this ugly nightmare was for nothing....
"It's kind of funny," Ben ssaid with a sheepish grin. "When the first clues started coming in, I thought it might have been you driving the car, but when the witness decided she made a mistake, I knew that you could have had nothing to do with it."
Oh God. But I did! I Did!
"After that, though, it was only a matter of time until I tracked the girl down. The tailpipe was the only thing holding me back, but it turned out that the pipe had come off of some other car a few minutes before. One of the customers who was coming out of the corner bar at Ninth and Harrison, saw it fall off the back of an old convertible just before the accident."
No! No! she thought, wanting to break into sobs. It wasn't me. It really wasn't me!
"I finally caught up with the woman last night,'" he continued. "She was a nervous wreck and I almost felt sorry for her, until I remembered the little girl who died. Anyway. the woman confessed and I took her downtown. It's in all the morning papers, but I wanted to be the one to tell you. That's why you didn't get a paper this morning."
Margie suddenly slumped forward in the tub, feeling like she had just been hit by a truck. Everything had been for nothing! She had gone through a week of terror and humiliation for nothing; a week of degradation that had changed from a quiet young housewife into a near psychotic, and all for nothing.
"Honey, are you alright?" Ben asked, afraid that she might be having a relapse.
"No," ' she whispered, her lips just above the water. "I'm fine."
"Would you," he asked uncertainly. "Would you like to go to bed?"
"Alright," came her almost silent answer.
With an almost father grin, Ben lifted her out of the tub and carried her naked to the bedroom. A new, soft blue light bulb shown from beside their new double bed, but somehow it didn't make any difference. Margie knew that their lovemaking would still be the same, as she felt herself slowly lowered onto the satin cover. The new bed felt softer than the others, and Ben's touch was much softer than ever before. His fingers traced quick darting paths over her skin, stopping finally at the soft silken mound at the juncture of her thighs.
But as she felt Ben lift his body over hers and slide his rigid penis between her thighs just as he had always done, could sense none of the ecstatic tingling that all those other men had forced to course through her loins. She tried, she thought, she really tried, but it was no use. Her husband just couldn't turn her own, and as he rolled off of her, perspiring and panting with the exhaustion of satisfied sex, she stifled a choking sob and turned away, begging for sleep and know that all the time a thousand Jamie Barths roamed the streets of the world ... , and waited ... waited for her again ... and ... sooner or later ... sooner or later she would go ...
