Sex and the school is often a give-and-take situation. How far explicit explanation about man's sexual needs and drives can be taken has been the topic of school board conversation and PTA concern for several years now. What is overlooked, however, is the explosive situation often created by the rigid sex instruction regulations coupled with the more rigid moral requirements inflicted upon the teachers in maintaining their positions.
One of the prime questions on every teacher's application is whether or not he or she ever has been convicted of a morals offense, and in every teacher's contract, with few exceptions, is a morals clause which allows immediate termination regardless of tenure.
Naturally there is a very real danger in this morals clause apart from the obvious physical strain it can put on a teacher's mental state. There is the danger of vindictive entrapment by students and parents of students who might be getting failing marks.
Lillian Hellman pointed out very vividly the ease with which a student can point an accusing finger in her brilliant play, The Children's Hour. So effective was the child's ruse that the teacher committed suicide in the film because she had been accused of lesbian tendencies. In the reality of the story she was in fact a homosexual, except that she never had had an affair. Because of the brutality of the morals clause and the stigma placed on teachers having so-called immoral relations, the teacher had thwarted all desire for relations with her partner. Like Thomas Mann's hero in A Death in Venice, she made do with only glimpses and daydreams of her "Tadzio."
It is not surprising, therefore, that occasionally, when a teacher's very normal physical needs are denied to her, she will seek satisfaction in the most convenient and enjoyable way possible ... and often at the sacrifice of her position ... for there is nothing more alluring to a sexually starved young woman than the sight of row after row of sexually excited and exciting young boys in the full bloom of puberty.
Is it surprising that often the teacher becomes the taught?
You will find the Rated X books, along with their companions, the Surrey Collectors Series and the HIS 69 gay titles at your favorite adult bookstore or newsstand each and every month. Serious collectors of strictly adult reading will want them all, side by side on their private book shelves for definite re-reading and ready reference.
We want to make all Surrey House, Inc. books the perfect reflection of your reading and sexual desires and invite your comments at all times, so we can better serve you. We urge you to write us with exact details of what kind of books you would like to read, and any other sexual matters you are concerned about, IN ABSOLUTE, STRICT CONFIDENCE. It is not even necessary to identify yourself in any way. Only in this manner can we be sure we are giving you precisely what you desire. No matter is too complex for you to approach us with, and nothing is too difficult for us to attempt ... but only if you want it ... and only if you take the time to write us with your specific requirements.
Only you can do it. We here at Surrey House, Inc. only exist to serve you in these matters of great concern.
All especially significant letters will be answered directly, and all story suggestions will be turned over to our staff of writers all over the world.
-THE PUBLISHERS San Diego, California April, 1972
CHAPTER ONE
They were looking at her with the innocence of hungry, heat-struck wolves, and all she could see down the immediate center row of desks was cock after cock, young buds nursed by the tug of clean faded jeans and stretch denim, some of a length which should have hung from tremendous men, some of shorter but equally alluring size.
Jeans and stretch denim have a way of cupping a man's nuts and cock in such a way as to offer it all to the hungry gaze of a sex-starved female. And Martha Gorman was sex-starved.
At that moment, as the eight-thirty bell rang for homeroom, Martha Gorman wanted to physically rape every young swinger in that sophomore homeroom, and especially the one in the first seat staring innocently up her miniskirt. She hadn't worn panties, and it was as if he had her scent.
He could see the soft black shadow of her nest, and she could see the noble fact that his dick was rock hard and the more noble fact that he was more of a man than he had any goddamned right to be at sixteen. She was calling the role, and her mind was screaming out to him, Fuck me! Fuck me, Anthony Murphy Jones.
Thank God she had used a feminine spray, for she could feel the soft petal beads of perspiration between her thighs as her cunt throbbed to feel the stiffness of that monumental member so arched toward her yet so protected by the jeans ... damn it!
She had been nervous for other reasons that morning when she locked her new apartment with its big king-size bed and mound of pillows and stepped into her Corvette Stingray and drove to Hamilton Central High for her first classes in English literature. She had made up her mind from the day she left Plover College and accepted the contract at Hamilton that her days of glasses and studies were over, except of course for paper-grading and class-prepping, and she was going to zing through life as a real swinging swinger.
Martha had given over her post-puberty years to college and to building a career, and she was coming to Hamilton an almost virgin. In other words, she had just enough to break the barriers and to set up a kind of nymphomania which she had been able to waylay so far ... until that moment when she saw that center row in homeroom and realized that from the teacher's point of view there'd be five more periods during the day, all just as full of eager young boy cock as that one was.
She had checked the roll call roster, and ... Oh, Jeez, she had most of the football team, the whole track team and a couple of the swimming stars. ALL THAT JOCK COCK!
Looking at that bulging gourd before her and knowing that the slightest panting she could detect was caused by the sight of her moist cunt winking at him, Martha called the roll quickly so she could sit down before she pissed all over herself from excitement.
When she called his name, Anthony Murphy Jones, his voice came back to her with the docility of a bull who has found his balls. His voice was masterful, baritone and resonant. And then she noticed the way his long, thick fingers played over the length of a pencil.
I've always heard that the size of a man's fingers betrayed the size of the man's dick.
His fingernails were large, pink and squared off with deep manicured moons.
I've always heard that large square fingernails were significant of strong staying power.
She wished she could see his palms. Her roommate had given her lessons on the Mount of Venus, the Mount of Mars, and on the Girdle of Venus. That's all she felt she needed to know. SEX!
He's got a bendable thumb. My, look how it bends back. It shows he's generous to a fault.
His hair was just below his ears and cut in a neat pageboy. His eyes were brown like his hair and gentle, almost cow-like. His face was surprisingly clear of pimples or acne, smooth like coarse baby skin. A thin fur of black hair served as a young mustache. His sideburns were full and reached nearly to his chin. J could show him the proper trimming of sideburns. She was probably the only girl at Plover who had subscribed to Gentleman's Quarterly.
His fingers and thumb playing over the pencil took on the symbolism of a phallus. The arched thumb looked like a large-headed penis. It moved gorgeously before her.
She watched him watching her as she glanced down each time quickly to call the next name. There were small beads of sweat over his lips and brightly glistening in the sparse mustache. He hasn't once looked at my eyes. He's devouring my breasts now. For a moment she imagined his pink tongue flicking around her nipples. Poor dear, he's probably hornier than hell.
She crossed her legs.
I'm gonna wet my pants!
His cock was pushing out his pants like a monstrous tent pole. He had crossed his legs, but it hadn't settled things at all. The persistent cock-head stuck up between his thighs.
Martha finished the roll call. She knew only one thing, that the bell was about to ring for first period, which was her free period, and she couldn't let that first hard-on she'd seen in months, since she first lost her cherry, go so wasting. At least she owed herself the right to see it, to touch it, to FEEL the stupendous length of an almost MAN! She almost could smell that stale urine and sweat odor like musk ushering up from him at the front desk. She closed her eyes, and immediately the bell rang. DAMN IT!
All the students were rising.
All the mighty cocks were shifting back into place to be carried off down the halls.
She wondered if it was wrong, or fattening, or deadly, to want to fuck them all, every sweet and swinging ball of them. But right then she just wanted to be close to that hunk of heavy in front of her, who just was standing awkwardly, who just had stuck his hand into his tight pocket to adjust and to shift that heavy member to one side, who just was covering himself with his notebook, tightly to hold down the insistence.
Shit, it's only right, she was thinking. He'll just quickly go to the boy's room and jack it all away. Mentally she erased the thought of "boy's room" and replaced it comfortably in her mind as "MAN's room."
She stopped him from leaving by calling his name quickly and quietly. "Anthony Murphy Jones, would you stay a moment?"
She reached out and touched his hairy young arm with her feathery feeling red nails. The hair on his strong, roped-muscular forearms-for surely he was a young mechanic growing massively muscular from the twisting of wrenches as well as a fine athlete-was dark brown and rather long for arm hair. He had thick wrists.
I've often heard that thick wrists and hairy forearms were significant for lust, like in the case of Pan.
She shivered with delight when he said, "Yes, ma'am?" Then he looked at her so forlornly. "Would it be okay if you didn't call me by my whole name in class?"
"Does it bother you?" Martha asked, smiling brightly.
"Really I'd much prefer being just Tony Jones. Murphy was my uncle's name, and he was a lush. Anthony sounds like something ... well, like something queer."
Martha laughed a little, but not at him. "Didn't you know that Anthony is rather like Antony, and he was a brave soldier of Rome and a lover of the Queen of the Nile?"
Tony smirked. "Cleopatra was a real washout, a regular Sadie Hawkins."
Martha covered her mouth with her right hand to keep from laughing agreeably. She was rather glad that Tony was learning so much about the realities of historical love lives. She couldn't help but look down at the notebook pressed so securely and tightly against his condition. Maybe she could adopt him. Then I can have all that for myself without danger. She shook her head noticeably. Wouldn't that be incest though? Besides, I'm sure he already has a set of legitimate parents. "Well," she said, "I doubt very much if there's anything ... queer about you."
He smiled. "No'm."
She noticed how pearly his teeth were, how completely unviolated his pink mouth and tongue seemed. Obviously he didn't smoke, and she thought, I wonder if he's ever French kissed a date.
"What can I do for you?" he asked innocently.
Oh, my dear, what you can do for me!
Her mind worked quickly, remembering a box of study guides a former teacher who had had the room had mentioned putting on the top shelves in the cloakroom.
"There's a box in the cloakroom up so high I can't seem to get to it." She moved in close to him, but not obviously so, and held his arm with both hands around his admirable biceps. "Would you ... for me?"
"Oh, sure," he said.
Martha knew she had fifty students due for Core in an hour. An hour of freedom! She must make it work. She followed him closely into the cloakroom and closed the door behind them, making it appear to be an accident when the latch just happened to catch. She turned on the light, and the cardboard boxes were indeed very high.
Tony, who still was having a problem with his thing, pulled out one of the benches with his free hand. "I'll need this to stand on," he said.
"Here," said Martha. "Let me hold your books."
"No!" But even before it had occurred to Tony that he would have to put down the books, she had taken them, and his condition sprang to magnificent view like the midpole of a splendid big top. Martha pretended not to notice, and he jumped up onto the bench quickly, trying to turn so she couldn't see him in such a state.
Martha wasn't about to abondon that opportunity, though. Just as he was stretching on tiptoe for the box and just as his shirt pulled out of his jeans and splendidly revealed his navel and that jungle of black-brown pubic hair bushing over his belt and on up toward his chest like the shaft of a furry spear, Martha ran to him and grabbed him around the naked exposed waist and said, "Oh, Tony, dear, you'll fall!"
Tony was paralyzed with embarrassment. His hands were on the box, and Martha's hot hands were on his waist, and he knew she could see the miserable condition his prick was in. He swallowed, and the sound of the embarrassed gulp carried through the cloakroom. He closed his eyes, but all he could see was what he remembered beneath her miniskirt. He never had seen a mature woman, even if she was only twenty-one or-two, with no panties on. He had heard all about twats and cunts and pussies and ITs, but he had never seen one, until then in the classroom, and it had looked so moist and warm and furry and comfortable and excitingly inviting, and he just couldn't ... damn it, he just couldn't help the hard-on. He got them often ... and more and more often. Martha-Miss Gorman-sure wasn't the only chick to cause him to damned near burst his gourd. Only every chick in school whose boobs were bursting sweaters and whose asses did the old wiggle up the stairs. But Martha's hands were there on his bare waist, and he could feel the heat of her body searing his flesh, and he wanted her ... oh, Christ how he wanted to discover what it was all about.
It was how he had dreamed it, for Tony was a sensational dreamer. He could dream up the weirdest, most satisfying eroticisms (as an educated friend had called his dreams when he once had tried to explain them). He had imagined the touch of a woman's tight hands exploring his body before, and he had moved against the sheets, exciting his organ to its limits until, hatefully, his body had weakened and exploded the juice of MAN onto his sheets and made a terrible sticky mess.
You've got a tight, hard tummy, Martha was thinking. And he did. He was lean up to his false rib, and his rib cage showed like growing nipples in the hard-muscled flesh as Martha pushed up his shirt and pressed her hot face next to his stomach as if to support him better. But she had done something else too. In pressing her face that close she also had pressed her body up tightly against his hard cock, and he thought for sure he'd stab her right in the throat.
She pulled her head back just then, and she said softly, "My ... what have we here?" And she touched the hard erection strongly through the cloth with her fingers. There were absolutely no give; the tool was rigid, gorged with ready blood. "Oh, that must be painful."
"Yes, ma'am ... I mean, No, ma'am."
"Here ... let me relieve some of that terrible pressure," Martha said. She made sort of a ritual of unbuttoning the top button of his jeans before he could object.
He went all red. "Honest, Miss Gorman. It's okay. Really."
"Nonsense. That's a lot of pressure there. You might cause a callous, and we wouldn't want you to get a callous from tight pants, now would we?"
"N-no, ma'am," he shuddered.
Martha traced an imaginary line from Tony's rosebud of a navel down slowly through the dark hairs to the opened top button where she let her finger toy small circles of pleasurable agony into Tony's twitching abdomen. His cock, still wrapped so well by the jeans, became alive and began to throb in small jerks against its cage as if demanding release or escape. His eyes were closed, his mouth open, his breath coming in quick sharp gasps of pleasure.
Oh, please, Martha, he was thinking, I mean, Miss Gorman, you'll make me cum all over myself. And I don't want that. I have classes. Please don't. Please ... don't....
She stopped in the nick of time and unbuttoned the second button, which parted the jeans enough for her to see that he wore briefs. There were clean but dingy gray.
I'd take much better care of your clothes than that, she assured herself as if assuring him. The third and fourth buttons allowed the bulge to spring outward so that Martha imagined she almost heard the boooiiiinnnngggg!!!
Oooooh, how impressive! her mind squealed. The man (full grown and the father of five) hadn't had that much cock when he had split her nubile hymen and drew first blood. She still could remember that day in the agriculture building at Plover. He had been a heavy-shouldered, would-be farmer, red-headed, freckled, slim-hipped, bulky-chested, stronger than the bulls he cared for in the school barns and heavy with the ass when he made love.
It had happened quite by accident. She was doing a paper for a biology class, and she had gone into the building to look at some pickled fetuses, when the would-be farmer came out of a professor's office and ran right into her in front of the lucite display case between the pickled intestines and the juiced up frogs in metamorphosis.
Something about his eyes, like there was something about Tony's eyes ... the way they looked only at one place, her snatch. And the big farmer had said, "Gosh doggie, but you're pretty. Ever watched pigs fuck?" He said it innocently enough, as if it was the most natural thing he could have said.
Martha resisted being startled and said no, of course, and he persisted as if it might have started some kind of chain reaction, seeing some boar with his cob rammed up some sow ... which it did most assuredly. Standing there by that pen, Martha got the queerest sensations. It took a few moments to realize that that would-be farmer had taken down his pants and his shorts and sported the nicest-looking cob of his own which he was rubbing up against her ass. He had her little skirt hiked up to her waist and was actually imitating the hogs.
"Lemme put it in," he pleaded all spongey-voiced and all. His broad hands were rubbing Martha's ass. I swear I thought I'd wet my pants, except he had pulled them down, she remembered. In those days she had worn some little filmy things, but that day had taught her better.
"Oh my, no!" Martha had said without turning around, because it felt so good ... so gosh awful good with that hard pole touching and teasing her bottom. It had the roundest, reddest head. And looking around as best she could, she could see the veins running its length. They were all bulged up and blue and looked a lot like mountain ranges. "Ain't nobody ever done that to me," she said.
"Just look at that there sow," he said, pointing over her shoulder, his voice sort of raspy now with anxiety which Martha was beginning to understand.
I would swear to this day that that sow had a smile on her face-if sows have faces. And that boar had some borer! And that farmer had a pretty chauvinistic poker, but, she remembered, I never was much on libbers. Women marching against men? Jeez! Why cut off the cock to spite the cunt?
"Just a little?" he had pleaded. He sounded so forlorn that Martha knew she just had to help him out. Besides, that terrible swelling just had to be painful.
"If you promise not to hurt," she said. "Just a little."
The sow did seem to be smiling like the pearly gates themselves were opening ... the one splendid sensation George Orwell had denied his pigs on their communistic Animal Farm.
He was gentle, and his voice was like velvet on her body.
"My perty ... now just bend over and lean on 'at 'air pen fence and poke out your pert l'il push, and before you know it...!"
She had bent over, following his instructions to the T, and his voice went on so softly, and his hands felt so soft on her behind, sliding up her dress until she could feel the cool on her flesh, and his fingers explored her tush, and....
It was the damnedest sharp pain! she remembered. But, ooooooh what happened next!
She could feel that golden, gorged shaft shoving up into her slit like it was trying to stretch her clear to the next county, and those hefty veins were doing something marvelous to the inside of her. It went in and in and IN. He must have had seven inches, and then he began to imitate that old boar. The boar was ramming his old cock into that old sow and she was taking every inch and grabbing for more. And the farmer was ramming his big prick up into Martha's bleeding bush and belly and she was pressing back against that heavy pounding ass so as not to miss a single centimeter of that joystick. The pain was gone! Who the hell had time to think about pain when a conductor somewhere was shouting, All aboard for Orgasm?
And when he came...! My God, cum shot through my cunt like a riveter slinging hot rivets!
And that was how it might now be with Tony, she reasoned. She was saying to him, "Oh, my but you've got quite a swelling there for a boy of your age."
Tony was crimson. "Yes'm." He tried to pull his jeans closed, but Martha held them open.
"It must be painful, so hard, so large, so heavy. Here ... let me uncover it and give it moving room."
"No!"
But too late....
Martha pulled the slightly gray brief over the protrusion quickly, then pulled jeans and briefs all down his legs in one swift motion, binding him to the spot. "Oh, my!"
His balls were big bounders for his age, but they were pulled up now tight to his crotch like large fresh prunes, ready to explode cum into whichever direction aimed.
I can't have that, she thought. What a terrible waste that would be.
"Have you ever had this condition before?" Martha asked seriously.
"Yes," he groaned. "All the time."
"Oh, then it could get serious."
"Yes'm." He tried to reach for his pants, but Martha stopped him with a light pat on the hand, like a gentle spanking. "But I'm late now for algebra," he groaned.
"I'll give you a note," she said. "First we have to get rid of that terrible swelling."
"No!" He tried to back away, but Martha was quicker. She grabbed him right by the cock and pulled him back. He complained a bit, but worse for his embarrassment, she wouldn't let go. And in a second he didn't want her to let go. The pressure of her tightened hand and ... and what she was about to do. ... "Oh, Mss Gorman!"
SHE HAD PUT IT INTO HER MOUTH!!! AS MUCH AS SHE COULD GET IN! SHE WAS FONDLING IT WITH HER TONGUE! SHE WAS KISSING IT! SHE WAS TONGUING ITS LENGTH!
"Oh, Miss Gorman ... if you keep that up, I'll ... I'll...." He was going all pale.
"You'll what, Tony?" Martha asked, slipping the fine organ from her mouth and speaking along its length.
"M-miss G-gorman ... mm-men do-th-things." He was quivering. His spit-coated cock was throbbing and jerking now in her hand so close to her mouth. "Something comes out of a m-man when he g-gets too excited."
"Oh? Oh, that's right. I seem to have read something once that said a man was supposed to ... yes, he was supposed to deposit what came out into a woman. Right?"
Tony almost collapsed with fright and the trembles. But his enormity stood up like the valiant soldier it was. "Yes'm."
Martha ran her fingers along the veins of his rigid member and gave it a tender flip with a forefinger. He groaned. She ran her tongue slowly ... agonizingly slowly ... around the bared head of the uncircumcised beauty, pausing for a moment to touch the tip of her tongue at the urethral opening and shoving ever so gently as if she could indeed fuck him. He was writing warnings with a movement of his hips. She decided she wouldn't waste it.
"We must take care of that this moment." She grabbed both his hands. "Step down. I'll help you."
He hobbled off the bench, looking up only once at the box which had been Martha's excuse, and stood tall before her. At just sixteen he already was several inches taller than she was. She took both of his hard buttocks in her hands and pressed him hotly, insistently against her.
"Lift up my dress," she demanded softly.
"But, algebra...."
"Lift up my dress."
His hands fumbled between them, and both of them could feel the miniskirt rising between their bellies, until it was flesh against flesh. Hot flesh against hotter flesh. The angle was excellent. She reached down and guided the enormous cock which now was so hard she scarcely could move it to the opening of her steaming cuntal mouth.
"Now," she said as the splendid rooster crowed at her fence, "shove gently ... gently."
"Ohhhh," he groaned, his eyes closed, as that Monument to Man Mounting moved like on a wave of queen jelly into her narrow orifice. "Ohhhh, Mmmmmiiiisssss Gggooorrrrmmmaannnn," he was sighing over and over again.
"Is the pain better?" Martha asked gustily. She could feel that mighty pole moving between her walls like mighty secrets coming for burial within the sacred pyramids. She would wait until it was completely in and seal the door, trap him, hold him, succor him dry. All she could see at that splendid moment of cock into cunt was the rest of that row of boys behind Tony, all of those cocks crowing, the short and the long.
Maybe I can take them all, she was thinking, as Tony's belly thwacked against her belly, and the sound tickled the air in the room. If they 're too short to pleasure my pussy, I can blow them, or better still, I have a back door just right for undersized cocks.
And that delightful thought pleased her so much that she moved against Tony and caused him to shove his entire member into her like the sword Excaliber into granite right to the balls.
"Oh, you have a heavy ass!" she squealed delightfully.
But Tony couldn't talk any more.
His eyes were closed, his mouth open and gasping, his whole body tortured by an approaching orgasm. His ass was driving that wicked wonder home and home and home. It had reached tremendous size as if Tony had saved every orgasm of his life for that one moment. The cock-head inside her reaching up for her belly was like a globe.
Martha stuck her tongue into his left ear and whisked delight there. Then she moaned heftily, "Oh, fuck me, Tony! Fuck ME! Fuck ME!"
"Uh-huh," was the best he could do.
SHIT, WASN'T HE FUCKING? FUCKING FUCKING FUCKING FUCKING!!!
The coatroom suddenly was filling with the fragrant odors and delicious sounds of wet cock sliding in and out of Martha's pouting pussy's suction. Sloooop! Sliiiiip! Schloooop! Schliiiiip!
"OH, FUCK ME, TONY BABY!" she groaned into his ear.
"UUUNNNNNNNHHHHHHHH!"
Whack Whack Whack Whack ... belly to belly ... cock into cunt ... schlip schlop....
And then Tony seized Martha's mouth in a mighty monumental bout of tongue attacking tongue to keep from screaming out. But he growled it out anyway into the depths of her throat, "I'mmmm ccuuuuummmmmiiiiinnnnnggggg--"
And it was suddenly like all the Antonys and all the Cleopatras ever. His ripe young boy sperm bore into her like a tidal wave from an earthquake somewhere in his groin, hot lava spewing up from an Aetna of balls and up into her body.
"Ahhhhhh," he moaned. "I cuuuuummmmmmm."
And again, more calmly, "I cuummm."
And again, almost silently, "I cum."
And his sweating body rested against Martha, and she could feel how little girth that marvelous warrior lost inside her. He has a splendid hanger. Even soft it's a pussyful.
"Tony," she murmured. "Are there any more at home like you?"
"Twenty," he said, still breathing hard.
"Twenty!"
"I'm an orphan," he said. "I live at the home."
Saints be praised! Would you believe?
Martha was doing mental arithmetic, his cock still buried to the balls inside her cunt. With her finger she counted against his damp shirt. Twenty, plus the football team, plus the boys in my classes makes ... WHEEEEE! 'Cause my Tony's gonna spread the word.
She kissed Tony fully, happily. "Tony, I simply adore you. Why ... why, I might even spend some special time with you ... to tutor you."
Tony gave one mighty shove with his limbered cock out of joy and said, "Gosh, but I'd like that!"
"Me too," said Martha. "Me too. And maybe you'll bring along one of your, uh, brothers?"
"Sure," he said, beaming. "Some of 'em are too young, but there's one or two who'd really like to meet up with you."
Martha smiled and moved her hand affectionately along his cheek. "I'm glad."
"There's Jim Boy. He's a year older'n me, and he's ... well, I sort of hate to admit it ... but he's more of a man than me."
"He is!" Martha's eyes got wider with glee of anticipation. "I must see him."
"I think he's a virgin too. But he talks about it all the time."
Martha grabbed her chance at other goodies too while the pressure of her cunt held his limber cock captive. "And the teams, Tony. You know most of the fellows on the teams here, don't you?"
"Oh, sure," he beamed. "Some of 'em are pretty good in the ... "
"In the hang department," she helped him out.
"Yeah. Some of 'em are real swingers. There's this here black boy who has a gong banger ... oh, excuse me...."
"It's okay," she assured him and pressed his buttocks tightly against her with her hands. "Go on.
Tony held his hands about ten inches apart in front of her face. "That long. Honest."
"Tony ... you're putting me on."
"Honest!"
"Tony...."
He edged his hands in a couple of inches. "Well, maybe that long, but it's the biggest pole I've ever seen between two legs."
Martha licked her lips. "Think he'd like to meet me?"
Tony nodded quickly with gusto. "You betcha. I hear tell he's a real cocksman with the ladies ... with some of the teachers too, I hear tell."
"Oh?"
"But that's a secret...." Tony assured her. "They say that's why he'll be our valedictorian when our class graduates in two more years."
"Straight A's huh?"
"Straight A's."
Martha smacked Tony on his tush and said gleefully, "My address is two-two-three-four-five Tumblewood Lane. Can you remember that?"
"Sure," said Tony, grinning. "Pass it along. Okay?"
"Yes'm" and he pulled his cum-streaked length of his limp dick from her slowly, with wonder.
She watched him tuck that marvelous juice slick member neatly into the basket of his shorts and button his jeans all with the mastery of experienced manhood, and she thought pleasantly, Maybe I can have all of them. She couldn't help giggling. What a gang bang that would be!
"Something funny?" Tony asked innocently, checking his fly for any signs of pecker tracks.
"Not a thing," Martha said. "Come on, and I'll give you that note for algebra."
CHAPTER TWO
Martha Gorman adjusted her skirt, checked her make-up and went down the hallway toward the teacher's lounge for a quick cup of coffee before tackling the throes of Othello in her second period Shakespeare class. Othello's kiss of death had always been particularly wonderful to her. How it must be ... to be loved to death. What a way to go! It felt especially good too having a pussy full of cum, young and vitally alive within her. Of course there was no fear of pregnancy. She used the pill, and, for added protection, she had an interuterine device. Just knowing, however, that the very spunky sperm of Tony Jones' young body were swimming up in her tract was enough to add just a zingy spring to her step. And there was the promise of more. Much more.
As she passed the principal's office, the sudden quiet of everything in a school hallway shushed by active classroom studies seemed emphasized as Mr. Hashbrook Rimmer, the principal himself, poked his head out of the office and said, "Oh, Miss Gorman, I'm glad to catch you. Could you give me a moment for an assist?" He seemed terribly embarrassed about something.
Martha looked both ways, then said, "Why, of course, Mister Rimmer. I'm delighted to be able to help."
It seemed so curious, the way he remained behind the door as he opened it for her. "Do have a seat, Miss Gorman." He gestured toward the chair in front of his rather plain walnut desk which sat in such a way so that her back would be toward where he was standing. But she only shrugged slightly and sat. She had seen the room with its simple bookcases filled with educational pamphlets and psychology books and its long but plain black leather sofa all before. Only the gooseneck lamp was interesting fare for the eye, for it reminded her of the way a cock curved upward in an erection or downward over a curve of balls.
"Trri terribly sorry to take you away from whatever you were doing on your break, Miss Gorman...."
Martha started to turn her head, but he stopped her quickly by saying, "Oh, don't turn around just yet. Please."
"It's all right about the break, Mister Rimmer. Really. I was only on my way to have some coffee." She tried to settle back into the uncomfortable walnut of the unupholstered chair. "What may I do for you, Sir?"
"Well, Miss Gorman, I had this unusual accident, you see, and I find that my secretary, Miss Fenster, who usually would see to such trivia, is ill today with the flu, and I find myself without assistance at this time."
"Yes?"
"Miss Gorman ... I tore a large hole in the seat of my pants."
"Is that all?"
She turned around, and there was Mr. Rimmer, standing near the closed door in his Jockey shorts and with his pants outstretched toward her. He showed a rather amazing mound of sex for a principal, and the look of flushed embarrassment on his face seemed genuine.
Martha stood up quickly and went to the poor man in such a state. She took the pants from him, but as she did so she let her free hand swing out gently and touch his pouch. Yes indeed, he's quite sufficient for a good lay. But the principal? Why not? He jumped like he had been shot.
"I-it's very em-embarrassing to be caught with one's pants down," he said. He realized as the pants left him that security of coverup left him too. He had no immediate choice but to stand there and be observed. He wished he had worn his dress shirt with the very long tails which hid his sex. He hadn't. He stood there in his office beside his door which he remembered quickly to lock and bulged out at Martha.
"Where do you keep the thread?" Martha asked, then she winked wickedly at him. "It would appear that you have quite a needle there." She indicated the proud swelling within his briefs.
"In the top drawer of the desk ... right side," he said, trying to cover himself by cupping his hands in front of his lengthening prick.
"Oh, don't do that!" Martha said, moving up to the desk. "There's something very beautiful about the largeness of a man's genitals. I wish more men would wear only briefs or very tight swimming trunks. I'd really prefer that they go nude, but of course wives and lady friends might object to advertising the merchandise."
"Oh, Miss Gorman."
"Do I shock you?" she asked coyly.
"A little."
"Maybe I can shock you a bit more. I'd just dearly love to see you nude, Mister Rimmer. I think that would be just about the loveliest thing."
Mr. Rimmer flushed. He slowly removed his hands from in front of his sex. His body seemed to stand a little straighter. He was in his mid-forties, not old certainly, but Mother Nature had begun to do strange things with his looks, like a few unwanted wrinkles in the wrong places, a few hangs of flabby fat that couldn't be described as baby fat any longer, and a genuine thinning of his hair. To have a beautiful, young, new teacher say she'd like to see him in the nude ... why, that was akin to having the Electric Circus and the Iron Butterfly in musical competition right there in that drab office.
"Really?" he said hoarsely.
"Oh, really!" said Martha. "Just jiggle out of your briefs there, and let me watch your manhood on parade while I do a wifely duty. It helps the mood."
"Really?" he said hoarsely.
"Oh, really, really," said Martha.
"I've never had a girl ask me to take my pants off before. It's rather ... well, it's rather alarming, to say the least."
"I'll never tell."
"It really helps? To sew?"
"Oh, yes!" and Martha licked her lips alluringly.
Mr. Rimmer eyed the door one more time to make sure it was locked, then he slowly slid his briefs down his legs and slipped from them. When he stood up, even Martha was very pleased by what he had.
"Oh, I do like uncircumcised men," she beamed. "It's like a sort of mystery, for when the foreskin is slid back, the head is sooooo pink and bright and ... and ... delicious."
"Delicious?" he gasped.
She winked again. "Oh, yes."
"You-pardon the expression-EAT men?"
"Oh, yes," she said, and she licked her lips again ... and, worse, she smacked them loudly, seductively.
"M-Miss G-Gorman ... would you eat me?" he said weakly, and Martha could have sworn she heard his knees knocking.
"Oh, but the pants!" She indicated the sewing.
"FUCK the pants!" he screeched, then went all red. "Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Gorman. I didn't mean to violate your ears with profanity."
"It's all right, Mister Rimmer. I've never heard a better word for it yet. I rather like the sound of it. See ... FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK."
"Please just eat me," he said. "I never thought I'd ever find anyone who'd want to do that for me."
Martha made a cute little face as she deposited the pants atop the desk and walked with a sway of her hips to her principal. "You mean your dear little wife won't eat you?"
"It would disgust her, I'm afraid." He was flustered.
Martha tsked the situation. She began to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt. She was pleased to see that he didn't wear a T-shirt, but disappointed too when there was no hair on his chest. In fact, it was a wee bit sunken. But it was a man's chest, and he smelled like a man, and obviously down below he was a man, and that was all that mattered.
"You must teach her to eat you," Martha said.
"Oh, yes. Just eat ... please." The poor, dear man was so anxious he was shivering. He looked so helpless to Martha as he stood there with his briefs around his shoes in a small neat pile at his toes where he had left them, and his knees just slightly knocked, and his thin calves so sparsely hairy, and his thin but muscled thighs shivering. He looked like an anxious child, except that he was more mightily endowed even than Tony, which said something about the advantages of age and the continued use of the fundamentals.
Then she remembered her upcoming class!
There Mr. Rimmer was on the rise, and Shakespeare's Othello was waiting to have his kiss discussed.
Mr. Rimmer's cock was rock hard now and arched up elegantly in anticipation of his first mouth. She watched his elegantly sheathed head loom toward her like a velvet eye, large globed and pleading to her to push back the skin gently and enjoy enjoy.
"Oh, Mister Rimmer ... I forgot my class. I have a Shakespeare class in three minutes!"
"Miss Gorman, you're fooling me, aren't you? You want to torture me some, don't you?"
"I'm teaching Othello, Sir."
Mr. Rimmer ran in two quick leaps to the telephone on the desk and dialed three. He was even urging the dial back around so the instrument could start ringing on the other end. His cock bounced with his body movements and stuck out and lay over the desk like a length of bologna as he listened. "Answer, answer, answer," he was mumbling into the receiver. "Ah, Miss Queegly," he said at last, " ... yesterday was a lovely day, yes. Yes, today is a lovely day too, Miss Queegly...." The poor dear man stood there with his cock losing gusto and wanting to be eaten so badly and shifted his weight first from his right foot to his left and back again. Finally he couldn't take it any more. "MISS QUEEGLY! ... yes, I'm sorry for yelling. Yes, I apologize for losing my temper. No, I'm not against nature being beautiful once in a while. MISS QUEEGLY! Please ... will you get a substitute for Miss Gorman's second period Shakespeare class? Yes, I realize it is short notice. No, Miss Fenster can't do it. She's out ill. Yes, Miss Gorman is sick ... like I am, if you don't do as I tell you, Miss Queegly. And a happy happy to you too, Miss Queegly!" and he hung up rapidly, breathing with some difficulty, leaning against the desk, wheezing, trembling, his cock hanging limply over his balls like a wrung out rubber hose.
"Oh, poor dear," said Martha Gorman going to him quickly. She lifted her miniskirt and captured the poor limp dick just a little in the warmth of her cunt and squeezed her muscles about its head gently. She could feel the thickness of its growth knocking for a deeper entrance. Yes, Mr. Rimmer, you can be proud.
"Oh, Miss Gorman," Mr. Rimmer sighed, his eyes closed now. When he was solid again, he reached his arms around her and cupped her buttocks with his broad hands and lifted her onto his rigid member, demanding full entrance, demanding to touch the outer limits of her trench.
"But you wanted me to eat you," she said quickly.
"Can't we sample both?" he asked pleasurably.
"Can you take it twice?"
"I don't know," he sighed. "With my wife I never got past firsts."
Martha patted his cheek. "Poor dear. Of course we can sample both."
She loosened her hold on the crown of his cock, and dear Mr. Rimmer pushed every inch of that very mature member up into her belly, and for the second time that day, Martha Gorman got a royal screwing.
She could feel the hunching tightness of Mr. Rimmer's buttocks as he pressed his prick deeply inside her, then slowly as his buttocks relaxed the length of it slipped outward until she thought surely she'd lose it, then he would let it glide back up into her, and Martha could feel the pleasured sensations of his veined tool pressing and kneading her clitoris, and, far superior to Tony's, it was doing a splendid job of lifting her to climax.
She spread her legs apart slightly, enough for Mr. Rimmer to get his closed legs up between her thighs and, slightly hunched, Mr. Rimmer was able now to shove that sphincter of sensuous soaring straight up her shaft. His eyes were closed now to the beat of blood in his temples and the pounding of his pulsating peter up her pussy. His movements were increasing ... increasing ... increasing ... faster ... faster ... he was humping her heavily, and she straddled that cock like cock was going out of style.
"You sure learned to fuck!" Martha gasped as his pelvis slammed upward into and against her groin. He was becoming a dynamo. Someone had turned him on! "Did your wife teach you to hump like this?" Her voice trembled and shook so violently while he was shoving the timber to her. The whole room took on the sound of slipping cock in and out of slippery pre-cum-filled cunt. Schliiip. Schlooop.
"A whore?" Martha asked with surprise wringing in her voice.
He just shook his head up and down. He put his broad hands on Martha's sides and began lifting her and putting her down again on his cock, up and down ... up ... down ... schlip ... schlop.
"Well, she knew her business," she groaned. "You fuck your Missus like this?"
"Are you kidding?" he said, but he couldn't grin. His face was beginning to contort to the approaching orgasm.
Faster his cock reached up to tickle her belly, deep, deeper! He shoved, plunged, withdrew, plunged again!
Then he pulled her to him and leaned his head onto her breasts heavily. He grabbed a breast through dress and all and held on for dear life before he groaned against her, "I ... I'm c-c-c-c-c-c-uuuummmmmmmmmiinngg!"
"Oh, yum!" moaned Martha, feeling his shaft shift into the final hefty shove and reach for the limits of her twat where it exploded with hot sticky cum, and she could feel their mutual love juices running down her legs like a gigantic dam had burst inside her. Mr. Rimmer damned near collapsed against her, his weapon well encased and throbbing with great belches of sensation inside her.
For a moment he leaned against her. He moved his head up slowly toward her left ear and whispered as if it took every ounce of effort he could muster, "Eat me ... now...."
Martha patted his cheek again and said, "There, there ... of course I'll eat you."
He said again, "I've never had anyone eat me before." His voice was so soft and wanting against her face. He sounded so pitiful that no one ever had done such a splendid thing for him. That it was only the third time in her whole life she ever had been fucked seemed not to matter really any more for Martha. She had Tony now ... and all those possibilities. And she had Mr. Rimmer and his obvious potential. Oh, wow! she thought, and she started off by holding Mr. Rimmer's head up and kissing him fully on the lips, plunging her tongue into his hungry mouth even as she slipped so delightfully and easily off his limbering studworks.
And then she was nibbling deliciously at his chin ... at his neck, and she could feel his body moving again against her, coming back to life.
She kissed each shoulder and ran her tongue along the thin ridges of his clavicles and feeling the small tightness of his trapezoid muscles. She moved on down and consumed his breast with kisses, encircling each nipple in turn with caresses of her tongue.
"Oh, merciful gods," Mr. Rimmer groaned placidly.
His member was joining the brotherhood of man again. It was lifting up again, drained as it was, struggling to be noticed, straining to reach those lips which soon would embrace it.
Martha felt his nipples harden to her tongue. She ran her hands up and down his sides slowly, very gingerly, enjoying each rise and fall of his dorsals. She started to kneel, her tongue moving daintily down the soft downy blond, almost invisible hairs that ran from his chest to his navel. For a brief second, as she held the shirt open, she lay her cheek against his abdomen and felt the gentle pulsing there, and her flicking tongue did marvelous things to the flesh there.
Mr. Rimmer was rimming to the edge of ecstasy. He pulled his loosened necktie over his head and threw it across the room. He pulled off his shirt and threw it after the tie. Then he put his hands on Martha's head and fondled her and ran his fingers through her soft hair. He said, "Oh, my," twice and never once opened his eyes.
And at last ... Oh, merciful gods, he was thinking. You who play with the emotions of warriors, help her take it all. Help her to swallow it inch by inch until my gut turns flip-flops. I want to be eaten. I need to be eaten!
Martha buried her face in the soft, warm blanket of Mr. Rimmer's dark auburn pubic hair. There was the smell of a hygiene spray stronger even than the aroma of their spent love. She ran her tongue just along the edge of the forest of hair ... ever so slowly, slower, much much slower ... until Mr. Rimmer's toes were pinched together in his shoes and curling with delight, and he was rising to stand on tiptoe as her tongue moved more slowly yet.
His organ was standing taller than before, like an elegaic arch rising to some poetic goddess of delight.
She took the enormous growth between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand and planted a very firm soft kiss on the very tip. For a moment she wondered if she were eating his cum or Tony's. It juggled emotion through the length of itself and up into and through Mr. Rimmer's body. She felt him shiver. It gave her a strange sense of power of a man to make him react that way.
Then she noticed for the first time how smooth the skin of a man's cock can be when it's hard. Except for the bulge of a vein here and there, the skin was as petal pink as Tony's, and she remembered how baby fine that skin had been. There was a rather prominent brown mole about an inch back from the crown. She was thinking, I can bite it off and he'd probably never feel a thing but joy in the condition he's in right now. He'd only lose a beauty mark. But she didn't bite it off. She kissed it and savored the feel and taste of a mole on a man's cock, and she felt the cock throb and bounce a bit between her fingers.
Then she pushed back the foreskin of the tubage and took in the beauty of the blooming. The pink crown came out from its cavern like the snout of a perfect clam creeping up for air from its sand palace.
She flicked her tongue into the urethral opening, and felt shivers of ecstasy move through him again. She girdled the thick globe of the crown with her tongue and allowed the broad head to drift into her mouth slowly, sucking as it came. Then she withdrew it just as slowly, kissed the crown again, ran her tongue exquisitely around the corona, then along the entire length of the organ playing it like an enormous flute, and Mr. Rimmer scarcely could stand still to the lovely attack. When her tongue and lips reached the forest of pubic hair she roamed around the enormity of its root and moved her tongue delicately back up the underside of the tender contracting shoot until she found the head again and allowed it to reenter the sucking chamber of her mouth. Except this time ... this time she took hold of Mr. Rimmer's buttocks and moved him forward so that the straight hard protuberance of him moved relentlessly forward and she was taking it all ... EVERY GOOD AND GODDAMNED INCH OF IT, just like he had prayed for.
"Oh, eat it," he was mumbling like a prayer over and over again.
And it was in! It WAS IN! His dick was buried to the hilt in Martha Gorman's beautiful mouth! He could feel his balls against her chin, and she had the most delicate throat. He could look down and see her closed eyes, her tilted back head bent to the acceptance of his mightiness. Oh, God!
And her hands began to move his buttocks, signaling for him to complete the act. And he did begin to move. He held her head with the gentleness of anxious hands and moved his heavy cock into the depths of her throat, marveling at her ability to accept him so completely, and he pulled the length of himself out, then pushed it gently in, then out more rapidly, IN, OUT, IN, OUT, and he was fucking Martha Gorman's mouth as steadily and as deliciously as he had been plunging into her cunt only a moment before ... and she was wonderful ... won ... der ... fulllll ... and he was beginning to soar toward another explosion ... coming quicker than he had wanted it to ... but there was no goddamned way to stop its coming ... and he could feel the suction of her demanding mouth pulling the core of him up from his very asshole like a ripe corn giving birth to a hard core ... and he was bursting wide open ... and he was shoving, shoving, SHOVING until he couldn't stand it any longer. He held her head tightly with his two tense hands and fucked her with gentleness, rapidly and ravishingly, until the whole room seemed warped with his approaching orgasm. And then he stopped in the middle of a storming plunge into her throat and groaned out into the room, "I'm cuuuummiinngg!" And his body emitted a shudder which rocked their mutual bodies, and Martha felt the hot sticky cum splash splendidly against her epiglotis, and she swallowed and swallowed, and still it seemed to come like a ... like a steady onslaught of a liquid army. And when it ceased he towered over her with his cock going limp on her tongue and jerked all over and shivered and drained himself of all the pent-up emotions he never had been able to give his wife, and in that room there took place the rebirth of a good man.
"Oh my, but that was good," said Mr. Rimmer as he retrieved his clothing from about the room. He did seem to stand an inch or so taller, Martha was sure.
He's not half bad for a principal, she was thinking. I almost could go for him. Certainly he carried a heavy load. A real sack full. How interesting it would be to have an older love along with all that young stuff. The very idea of a steady gig with the principal was intriguing enough.
"You know, it might be handy to have a place to come for seconds, mightn't it?" Martha suggested.
"Oh, dear me yes!" Mr. Rimmer said, grinning, and he was trying all the while to refasten one of his cufflinks.
Martha scribbled out her address on the desk memo pad just as the cufflink bounded from Mr. Rimmer's cuff and into the ventilator.
"Oh dear, and my wife gave me that link for my birthday." Mr. Rimmer said, fear beginning to return to his voice.
Martha knew if he lost his courage now she'd have to start all over again. "Don't worry about a thing," she said proudly. "The ventilator leads to the basement, and I'll run down and fetch it for you just as soon as I sew your pants."
Mr. Rimmer seemed pleased as punch. He stood at least two inches taller, and Martha felt so satisfied to be of such service to her principal and keeper of her contract. She savored the flavor of his cum in her mouth. It had the distinct taste of garlic and fish. Rather delicious, she thought. Yes, Mr. Rimmer, I'd say I'm going to enjoy your gourmet testes. And she picked up the needle and thread and busied herself at the assurance of next year's work.
CHAPTER THREE
Tony had had great difficulty keeping his mind on algebra. He had been very late to class, but the teacher hadn't seemed to mind. Maybe it was the joy written over Tony's face that caused her to smile and excuse his tardiness. But he had simply taken his seat and smiled a lot throughout the rest of the teacher's dissertation on quotients. It was different in second period, however. Very different. It was a class in political science, and it grew boring after a while. Soon Tony found himself staring out the window at nothing in particular. He was just seeing again the beautiful dark twilight zone of Martha Gorman's snatch under the miniskirt and feeling again the terrific heat of her cunt wrapped around his length and experiencing again the suction of her beautiful mouth exploring his body, and his mind wandered hither and thither and yon until his imagination took over and he found himself in the kingdom on Tashia, a favorite place of his ... the home of King Dong.
He was thinking ... in Tashia they worship cock ... big stone, erect dicks placed like monuments over altars reserved for the sacrificial screwing of virgins. A group of young studs, honchoed by an old priest with a long dong, serve as instruments of the sacrifice. Their "victim" dies the happiest of deaths beneath the relentless, unending thrusts of those thirty men, selected from among the strongest bucks in the tribe and using only one characteristic as a criterion ... a big, thick, hard, long cock.
The Tashians are cockhunters. Most head hunters and other savages throughout the world, when they attack an enemy camp, do so with the vengeance of scalping their victims or beheading them. The beheaders shrink the heads and the scalpers wear their pelts around their belts. Well, the Tashians do both, except the heads are the heads of cocks, but they stuff these cocks and hang them around their belts to assure their own eternal potency.
The Tashians rarely sacrifice their own young girls. When they attack and defeat a neighboring tribe, the Tashians always drag away several of the more beautiful females. The remaining girls and women are raped on the spot, then put to the blade. Their tits are cut off and are eaten ritually by the women in the Tashian camp, for the tits, like the male scrotums eaten by the victorious males, are considered excellent fertility potions and splendid aphrodisiacs. The captured victims then are locked away in a cave or barred hut to await use before the granite cock.
I stumbled onto the Tashians quite by accident really, Tony was thinking. I was sleeping in my camp too near their current conquest's tribe. We had been hunting gazelles, and the only reason I was spared-for usually the Tashians want nothing to do with male captives-I discovered when they dragged me to their camp, was the fact that a white and lovely daughter of a slain missionary had been captured on the last run. The Tashians were afraid to torment white flesh, for it seemed repugnant to them, like the smell of human flesh is repugnant to most carnivores. It seems, when they invaded my camp, they had examined my friends' bodies before killing them and had decided my cock warranted preservation for the moment. To the Tashians I no longer was a man; I was a white cock. I contrasted well to the Tashian yellow-red or amber skin tones.
It was lonely in the Tashian camp. I was put into a small reed hut in which I scarcely could turn around and certainly could not stand up. There was a peephole, however, and I could watch the festivities. I had a ringside seat near the altar, though I hadn't yet caught glimpses of the white and lovely daughter. Ordinarily, under similar circumstances, I'm sure fucking a beautiful broad would have been the furthest thing from my mind, but all I could see rising high into the air was that monstrous cock ... that stone prick standing on its altar of balls like a god. They even had carved veins into it, and its head was monstrous. It reminded me of Heyerdahl's phenomenal discoveries on Easter Island, which he documented in Aku-Aku. Watching that enormous height for so long kept me with a continuous hard-on, and I've never been one to give over to jacking off especially when there was the remotest possibility of getting a pussy to bounce on a bit.
The Tashians wore no form of clothing. Because of their athletic endeavors, the men were fantastically well built, and throughout puberty the young bucks wore weighted rings of metal or stone around their cocks to keep them continually lengthening. As a result, some of the young men had cocks of enormous proportions. The lengths swung between their legs like heavy clappers on bells, and because of the freedom of nudity, so did their scrotums hang heavy with sperm. I found myself enjoying the sight. There's a frightening sort of humor in watching the stealthy movements of nude, well-endowed men. The women massaged their splendid tits continually, and I often saw passing young females massaging coconut oil into their boobs as they walked along, talking about the upcoming sacrifice undoubtedly.
I was fed on medium rare sheep testicles or
"mountain oysters" as we call them, as were all of the studs in the sacrificial lineup, I discovered. I didn't know that otherwise I would have been fed either nothing at all or some greasy poi-like mixture made from local rootstock.
To strengthen the immediate potency of the sheep's nuts, I discovered later that the high priest jacked off into the clabbered sauce, then in turn the chief got off his rocks into the gravy, followed by the husband of the chief's daughter and so on through the long hut of the ruling males. By the time the sheep's nuts were passed around to us performers, the gravy sauce was nearly all cum. But ... when you're hungry enough, and when you realize any meal might be your last meal, you become damned near willing to devour anything. Even cum gravy!
In their raid the warriors had dragged back some excellent female pulchritude, as natives went. As night descended, the young ladies were lined up and led up onto the altar of balls. All but one, a splendid specimen of about eighteen with ample measurements and very long black hair, were locked into a cage at the root of the monster stone cock, the cage covered with a furry substance to resemble the pubic hair of the cock. The remaining beauty then was forced to lie down upon the altar where she was bound, arms pulled back and legs wide apart. I almost could sniff the delightful female aroma springing from that moist purse now slightly open and moist in the firelit night.
The mesmerizing thrump of drums began, and the fires were banked to throw much light on the scene. The shadows of the onlookers danced around the altar balls, and the more threatening shadow of the high priest, his thick member rigidly hard and standing quite tall in a perfect arch, passed over the stone cock as he approached the bridled broad.
He made some mystic motions toward the stone cock, murmured something over the girl who looked terrified, stood between her spread legs and eased his cock slowly into her. He had a thickly throbbing member and in a moment I knew the girl was a virgin ... that probably they captured only obvious virgins ... for her blood stained his member as he withdrew it just as slowly as he had entered. She had been readied, and her heavy sighing and sobbing shook the air.
One by one I watched the young studs mount the platform, approach her and ram all they had up into her bulging pussy. I became increasingly amazed at the enormities some of the men displayed, that she could so consistently take them all the way. I couldn't know that her poor pussy was becoming pulp to their onslaught.
The men were depositing so much cum into her slot that it was running and oozing from her, and still the men came to fuck her. She was frenzied and clawing to release her hands as if to hold at least one deft dick away from her. And then I realized what was happening. The men were lined up according to the sizes of their cocks and the apparent smallness of her cunt. The last man brought in the bone crusher, and as he shoved the cock into her, and as I saw her rise up slightly against the bindings with the impact and open her mouth as if to scream and her eyes bulge, I realized that the last cock was not a cock at all but an enormous stone replica of the monument. She had split open beautifully, and her soul was running out with the cum.
I watched each new girl gorged by at least thirty men each before the cruncher went to work. Each one was blessed by the high priest beforehand, and each one met the same fate. They all, having been lifted to the heights of frenzy, died with a shocked surprise and a kind of delight on their faces.
And then it was my turn.
Before they came for me, I watched them drag out the bewitching blonde and strap her down. She didn't resist much, assuming her fate was inevitable. She was exquisite though ... smooth white skin, long blonde hair to her shoulders, slim waist, keen hips and well-shaped thighs. When they tied her down, I saw how pink and perfect was her pussy. My cock rose quickly and remained rod rigid even as two hearty bucks came and forcibly dragged me from the hut to the platform.
"I'm sorry," I murmured to her.
She understood and said, "It's all right. Really." Her eyes were as blue as Thoreau's Walden Pond, and I looked forward so to camping there beneath the eyelashes of her ridges and in her valley of the gods ... as if I knew her. Of course! I am about to fuck Miss Gorman! The hair and eyes are different, but it's she! It's she!
I watched the priest move up to her. For the smallest of the bunch, his cock was cock enough, and I shivered for her as he pushed it in to the hilt. I could see his heavy bag of balls hanging down between their legs. I could have sworn that his incantation was simply, "Uum Yum Yum." For all of the other women his blessing had consisted only of a hump, once in, once out. He had saved himself to protect his hard-on, for he was an older man than the others. White flesh was repugnant; therefore, only the high priest followed by a white cock could properly make her flesh ready for the others and thereby avoid contamination of their dark flesh. The priest was immune.
With this blonde beauty he fucked like hell was escaping from her Pandora's box. I don't think I've ever seen a man fuck so hard, and I've seen some hefty asses working some hungry cunts into mattresses. He fucked her fifty miles an hour, and when he came like an explosion, he howled like a satisfied hound, and the blonde was groaning and moaning into an orgasm. He pulled out his depleted tool and motioned for me to be brought forward.
"I'm sorry," I said again to the beautiful Miss Gorman, though at that moment I really wasn't.
"I'll be all right," she said nearly in a swoon from the priest's attack. She seemed so anxious for me to complete all that the priest had begun.
My tool fairly leaped forward and arched into her cunt, and I shoved deliciously forward to my balls. She said a lot of "Ohhhhh's" and "Oh, Gooooddddd's" and a "Unnnh" or two.
I humped and I pumped and I humped some more. The crowd wasn't satisfied though. They were used to seeing gang bangs, and the stiff dicked Tashians weren't yet allowed to enter her cunt. But, to satisfy the crowd, the priest made motions, and all thirty of the heavy hammered men encircled us. I feared the worse for her.
Before Miss Gorman could scream Gosh, No! there was an enormous cock being shoved down her throat. Then another stud loosened her hands and leaned her over so as not to break my union but so he could get a bull's eye view of her asshole. The high priest stood behind me and held me in my stead while the heavy hung native got his pole into the bud-like opening of her derriere and shoved. I swear Miss Gorman turned purple, the pain must have been so great. But she couldn't scream, poor dear, with that cock in her mouth, so her eyes just got larger and larger. I fucked.
The native in her mouth fucked.
The native up her ass fucked.
We all fucked and fucked and fucked.
I suppose I had the best staying power, though I was in no position to be flattered, because as the man in her mouth shot her full of cum he was quickly replaced, as was the man up her ass. I wondered with amazement at what kept Miss Gorman from choking to death. She must have had a lot of practice at swallowing cock. BIG BLACK COCK!
Tony never learned if they used the bone crusher on Miss Gorman, for just as the man with the huge stone replica was mounting the stairs, Tony came into her cunt with the shot heard round the altar ... and the bell rang for the next class too.
He covered his bulging condition with his notebook, and when he was in the safety of the opening made by his locker door, he took out the paper with Miss Gorman's address on it. And it helped thinking, Boy, am I gonna throw the meat to you tonight, Miss Gorman. He tried to think about whom he'd ask to share a piece of cunt with him. He wasn't sure yet. She wanted them all.
CHAPTER FOUR
Martha had gone down into the school basement in search of the vanished cufflink. Certainly after Mr. Rimmer had given her such a wonderful tussle, she didn't want to see him get into trouble ... and least of all with his wife.
Martha's pussy still felt neatly pleasured by the respectable size of Mr. Rimmer's cock, and her mouth felt kind of fuzzily good around the lips from the friction of the prick sliding in and out with such final rapidity just before he came. She still could feel the surprising surge of all that cum against her epiglotis. No wonder women liked to suck off men! Now that she had had it two ways, she began to wonder about all the other delightful ways there were to fuck ... to get her jollies. Oh, my, they must be innumerable, and I intend to experience them all just as surely as sweet Candy with the Buddhist priest's cock up her twat-which really had been her Daddy's cock-and with the Buddha's stone nose up her ass. Terry Southern and Mason Hoffenberg were such good writers. In fact, I remember I wanted to use Candy as a text in my literature interpretation course, but, damn it, the school board turned thumbs down. I swear they don't know decent literature when they see it. Could those millions of readers really be wrong? Not a chance.
The basement was dimly lit by one dangling overhead bulb covered by a green enamel hood. There was the enormous furnace over toward one far corner, but fortunately it wasn't running yet for the season. She sensed it gave off a tremendous amount of heat into the basement, and it would have been unbearable down there.
Then she began to wonder about the man who tended the furnace-the downstairs janitor, so to speak. Was he on duty? Or did he just suddenly appear in the winter to stoke the stove like a white winter ghost of some kind. She doubted that. He probably came to work in the evenings and did odd jobs like cleaning rest rooms during the night when all the children and teachers who had dirtied them were sleeping. But it took a good man to stay in the basement and care for the furnace. She imagined a huge hulking sort of a man with tremendous shoulders and a big head-which could possibly even be handsome ... or not at all bad to look at, at least. Nevertheless he would be a big BIG man with muscles out to there from shoveling coal and from polishing and cleaning all that metal. Shivers moved through her body as she realized something else! A man like that must really have something swinging between his legs.
She followed the ventilator shafts which seemed to run perpendicular down the walls for a way then angled over toward where the furnace was. The one she reasoned was the vent to the principal's office seemed to veer off behind the furnace. Her instincts told her that she shouldn't tread into the darkness, and sudden images of the snakes that old pioneers used to embroider on their flags came to mind, all of them hissing out of the darkness and saying, Don't tread on me. Then suddenly all the snakes seemed to take on the guises of enormous spread-headed cocks waving at her like they were about to strike in the direction of her trench.
She walked carefully to the furnace. She felt its enormous belly, and it was indeed cold. Then she creeped slowly around its girth until she could see where the vent came out. It was behind the furnace and she would have to get down on her hands and knees to reach its trap. What she didn't know as she kneeled down was that her miniskirt now hid absolutely nothing. And a delicate strong perfume of woman who had just been twice fucked wafted through the basement area. Neither did she know that that aroma drifted to another strange nose hidden on some straw in a far darkened corner.
She didn't hear the soft padding feet behind her so intent was her effort to locate the missing cufflink in the vent trap. She hadn't procured the key to unlock the trap, so she was busily rummaging around with her right forefinger which fit exactly, in fact a bit tightly, into one of the squares in the trap cover. It was only when she heard the unsteady, snorting sort of breathing that she paused in her efforts and looked around to see the ENORMOUS WHITE GERMAN SHEPHERD DOG that was now beginning to sniff at her bushy crack.
Ye, Gods! Martha almost screamed, and she tried to scoot away from the beast, but her finger caught in the trap and there she kneeled ... trapped by the trap. She was in one hellish state, on her knees, her naked bottom poking on an angle immediately upward and available to the splendid dog specimen. Try as she might, she couldn't free herself nor move far enough to the slide to prevent what happened next.
She looked over her shoulder, and she could see that the dog was certainly a male. He was a tremendous dog with a tremendous reach of furred shaft, now beginning to creep from within its fur cocoon. She could see that violent looking pink-red rod coming toward her as if it would never stop. It was bigger than Mr. Rimmer's man-sized cock. She hadn't been aware that dogs often had bigger pricks than men. But here was a German Shepherd swinging one hefty hammer in her direction. AND ITS BALLS! They hung down under that tool in a weighty basket, each the size of goose eggs.
Oh, Jeez! Can a woman get pregnant from a dog? She suddenly saw in her imagination her giving birth to a litter. A squirming whining litter of half-German-Shepherds-and half-Martha-Gormans. Incredible! It seemed she had read somewhere that it wasn't possible for dog's sperm to mate with human egg, and that was a relief. And if that were the case then what was the harm really. Why not let the dog mount her? It would be the third new experience of the day.
She could feel the cool wet nose up against her ass now, smelling her goodies there. Oh, it feels so good.
And then the good dog began to lick her ass.
He had the most gigantic tongue, and the way it -rimmed her made her claw at the trap door and scarcely hold still. It was like vital shoots of electricity stabbing at her body. And the dog licked and licked and licked.
She looked over her shoulder again. She could swear that the dog had his eyes closed as he licked her ass clean. He seemed so contented. And then she looked again at his rod. It poked out from his furry coverlet at least four inches, and it seemed there must have been another six inches still sheathed by his coat. Oh, Christ! What she could see was at least an inch and a half thick, so what was still buried must really have been a prize.
No wonder bitch dogs fight so much when a big male jabs it home. All of that into a bitch's small pouch. Thank God a woman is given a bigger one. I have a feeling I'm going to need it.
The dog stopped licking her ass then and licked at his own jaws for a moment. Then he smelled her some more, and Martha could feel that nose press up at her cunt and suddenly into her an inch or so. The suction created by his sniffing near her clitoris was almost more than she could take.
Unnnnh! her mind stormed. Unnnnnhhhh!
She wanted so to say out loud, "Oh, that feels good! Please keep it in that angle and keep up the sniffing!" But she was fearful of scaring the dog away.
Soon he did stop though, and pulled his snout from her pussy. He licked his muzzle again.
And then Martha felt the dog's front paws climbing up onto her back.
Oh, meeee ... she thought.
The paws went around her sides as if she were really just a bitch, and she felt the head of that enormous rod quivering up to her snatch, and she felt its insistence knocking for entrance. And even before the dog had inserted the head of his instrument into her panel, he was hunching his butt in a rapid fucking action. Oh, my my ... she thought. The pressure of his legs and paws holding her and the effort she could feel him expending in his armed attack on her cunt already were strenuous, and she wondered what on earth it would feel like when he got it in. She tried to see the weapon again, but his hunching ass and stiffened tail and spread haunches were in the way. She couldn't see how much more the rod had gorged itself into giantism; she could only imagine, and that could be worse.
But then she found out! The dog found her snatch and, whining, he shoved the point of that canine cock up into her moist gulley, and Martha was almost delirious with joy as she felt its size pressing against her clitoris and spreading her vulva wide apart. For a moment she wondered if she could take it. Ohhhhh, myyyy--
It slid with considerable difficulty up deeply into her passage, and now Martha knew why the bitch dog always held her male as long as possible. It was like heaven! It was like her gate had opened and all of Paradise had awakened inside her body.
And the dog continued at a furious pace, his haunches hunching against her like a real fit. She could feel that thickness sliding in and out of her pussy, woolly feeling in its friction, until her pussy began farting like her ass might from the tremendous amount of air the dog shoved up her twat with his attack.
Unnnnh. Unnnnhhhh, she sighed as there seemed to be no end to the dog's enormity pushing up into her belly. And then she felt the root! It must have been two inches around, and it plunged up against the tortured lips of her vulva and spread her still further, until she was positive she couldn't take any more. But the dog's rapid attack was relentless. She could feel his whining, wheezing hot breath and smell his dog odor near her face as he humped large over her buttocks and up and over her back, squeezing her to him with his paws and forelegs. She could feel the heaviness of his balls slamming against her belly as the gargantuan prick shoved up and up over and over! She knew those balls must have carried a flood of sperm, and again the terrible possibility of pregnancy by a dog crossed her mind and she had to reject it as an impossibility.
The dog gave her little time for dwelling on such thoughts, though. His pile-driving ass bore into her and suddenly she felt the paws tighten their hold on her, and suddenly she felt his balls stop swinging so wildly ... and suddenly he had bunched his attack hotly up against her pussy, his immense cock buried to the hilt within her pouting, farting cunt ... and suddenly there was a grandness to his attack which even Martha had expected ... but only in her wildest imaginations!
FOR HIS COCK SEEMED TO DOUBLE IN SIZE!
IT THROBBED TO NEW AND UNREALIZED, UNDREAMED OF HEIGHTS AND ON A TREMENDOUS SHOVE OF HIS ASS THE DOG SUDDENLY FILLED MARTHA'S CUNT WITH A RELENTLESSLY HOT FLOW OF CUM WHICH SEEMED TO SPLASH ABOUT HER INSIDES AND SET HER ON FIRE. THE GIGANTIC SPURTS OF CUM SEEMED TO GO ON FOREVER, THE SWELLING OF THAT POINTED HEAD CONTRACTED AND PULSATED AND THROBBED WITHIN HER, AND FINALLY THE DOG LET OUT A BRIEF HOWL AND PLUNGED HIS COCK AS HARD AS HE COULD STRAIGHT UP SO THAT MARTHA WAS POSITIVE HE'D EJECT THAT FINAL BURST OF CUM CLEAR THROUGH HER SYSTEM.
The dog was making a few final hefty shoves and firing a few well-aimed blanks when Martha suddenly heard the voice.
"Well, I'll be damned!" It was a deep, brusquely masculine voice with a timbre that seemed to shake the room. Whoever it was was a big man.
Martha tried very hard to look around the dog who had stopped his hunching when the voice spoke, though he remained pleasantly buried within Martha. All she could see, though, was a pair of khakied legs.
"If this don't take all-" the voice said again. There was a touch of humor, as well as a touch of anticipation in the sound of it, as if ... as if ... as if whoever was doing the talking was thinking about fucking her himself!
Incredible! thought Martha. Who'd be willing to take seconds to a dog?
THE OWNER, OF COURSE!
"Mind if I spell you a bit, Edgar?" the voice asked.
The dog whined and as if in quiet desperation, gave a little shove for good measure up into Martha's pussy and released his hold on her. Martha watched him move away from her, and he was licking his muzzle as if he just had tasted some gourmet specialty. It was very flattering really.
"Well, now...." said the deep voice, and Martha rolled over and stared up innocently at the tallest man she had ever seen. He must have stood nearly seven feet tall, and already he had his khaki pants off. They were lying in a bunch near his feet. "Hope you don't mind none," he was saying. He had his Jockey shorts on still, but Martha noticed they were clean. He had a huge pouch which was very well filled and getting much much fuller. "Seeing as how you took a liking to Edgar, my dog, I thought I might as well share in the goodies. That is if you have no objections."
Martha's eyes grew quite large along with the bulge in his briefs. She had the feeling she was about to graduate! "No ... not at all. My pleasure," she said.
"Excellent!" And he pulled down his drawers!
IT WAS THE BIGGEST, VEINIEST, MIGHTIEST, MOST STUPENDOUS COCK SHE EVER HOPED TO SEE!
It was rock hard it seemed, but so heavy that it wouldn't rise. It hung down straight and round like a long cylinder over his balls which hung between his legs like globed fruit. It was uncircumcised, and Martha could see the tiniest drop of fluid at its tip as if he already was terribly aroused from watching his dog in the throes of orgasm. The giant's cock was at least ten inches long and three inches around near the root. It belongs in a museum, she thought gaily, AFTER he's used it on me!
"Does it frighten you?" he asked sheepishly, kneeling down in front of her. Martha could feel the moisture gathering around the lips of her pussy from her anxiety. She could feel her clitoris reaching out for him, itself taking on a surprising length and girth like a hard cock. Oh, how she wanted that belly-buster shoved up her insides! As he kneeled she couldn't help noticing how the head of it touched the floor. It was like a nightmare and a dream of delight all at the same time.
"Oh, no," she said, shaking her head quickly.
"I'm glad," he said, smiling. Martha discovered he had terribly bad teeth, but that made no difference at all. With a whopper like that, he could have had leprosy, she reasoned. "I don't get many girls," he said softly, then lowered his eyes as if it had embarrassed him to say it.
"Oh?" There was pity in Martha's eyes. But he wasn't looking at her eyes. He was watching the juicy cunt peeking wide-eyed at him from under her miniskirt. There was a small stream of dog cum moving like hot lava over the precipice of her vulva and moving as if to burn up the floor.
He spoke mechanically now, hypnotized by the slow flowing cum. "Most girls don't want to try to take me. Why, I've even paid fifty bucks only to have the girl run out like a frightened chicken when I pull out what I got."
Martha shook her head. "Well, you sure have got it."
"Thank you kindly." He grinned then, and she discovered too there was a tooth missing just a bit back on the right upper side. It gave a curious he-manish look to his grin. Then he hesitated. "You don't want fifty bucks, do you?"
Martha grinned, then chuckled. "Oh, gracious no! I want that!"
She had made his day.
"I'll be careful," he assured her. "It's sort of good that Edgar went first, cause he's got a pretty good pole too." He was looking around for something soft to put under Martha's hips to cushion his blows.
"You can say that again," Martha said, licking her lips, watching his cock swing down like a hefty elephant's trunk as he searched around the furnace for something soft. At last he found some old rags-a big bag full-which he used for dusting the rooms.
"Here, Missy, let me put some of these under you. It's more comfortable that way."
"Thanks," Martha said appreciatively, lifting her buttocks so that the man could shove some of the rags beneath her. They felt cool against her bare behind as she settled down upon them. She knew too that they'd give added height and much deeper penetration for that noble knob.
"Shall I use some grease?" he asked timidly. "All's I got is some hair tonic, and I don't even use that much."
His hair was a mess.
"I don't think anything will be necessary," Martha assured him. "I feel very well lubricated ... from Edgar."
"He's a good dog," the man said proudly. He had knelt down again between Martha's legs and his eyes were riveted to the flow of cum which almost had reached the floor. "I found him as a pup. I hope he didn't hurt you none."
"Oh, no. Quite the opposite really. He leaves his conquests feeling very gratified." She smiled broadly. "Besides, it's my fault. I was down on my hands and knees looking for Mister Rimmer's cufflink. I forgot I didn't have panties on ... and I didn't expect company in the basement. I will say that it was surprising to feel his nose exactly where he first put it."
"Would you like for me to eat you?" he asked, innocence ringing in his large voice.
"Wouldn't it bother you?"
"Oh, no. Not at all. Why Edgar and me has shared many a meal off the same plate."
"Then it would please me no end," Martha said, but she caught him by the shoulders even as he was bending to the delights of her moist cunt ... not that she would have been able to hold back his bulk a moment if he hadn't been willing to allow it. "But first, shouldn't I know your name?"
He grinned, flushing somewhat that he hadn't thought of that nicety himself. "It's Mathias," he said. "Mathias Row."
"What do you do, Mathias Row? I mean, why are you in the basement?"
He grinned again and announced proudly. "Why, I'm the janitor of the basement. In the winter time I stoke this here furnace, and all the rest of the time I help out at nights to clean the boys' and girls' rooms. The regular janitor-my boss, you know-says someday I'll gradjerate to his job of sweeping down the halls and dusting the desks and things. Won't that be something?"
"That'll sure be something. Eat me."
"Yes'm...."
And Martha watched as the longest dong she'd ever seen vanish beneath his bulk as he leaned forward and brought his face down into her soft dark nest. She hadn't been aware of the man/dog cum lava flowing from her cone, but Mathias Row didn't miss it. As soon as he was close enough he lapped up the stream with his tongue and savored the remnants of his Edgar. And Tony. And Mr. Rimmer. And then he parted Martha's vulva with his large fingers, and she felt the hot breath searing at the pinkness of her inner self. She felt the nearness of his flicking tongue as it did such marvelous things to the inner thighs and to the sheath of skin around her vulva. And then she felt the tongue itself caressing the inner lips.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head backward and lifted her buttocks so that her pussy enveloped his mouth and his nose disappeared into the delightful growth of her forest.
And his lips seized her clitoris and sucked!
Sucked.
Sucked!
SUCKED!
Martha almost screamed out loud so intense was the passion which screeched through her system.
"Oh, Mathias, eat ... eat ... EAT!"
She grabbed his hair with her clawing hands and worked her fingers through it like braids and down into his ears, holding all the while like she had wanted and tried to hold Edgar inside her, the way she had held Tony and the way she had enjoyed Mr. Rimmer. Ohhhhhhh.
Mathias Row's lips slurped at the goodness. Slump, Sluuurrrp. He sucked and licked and pulled at the clitoris, until Martha couldn't stand it any longer. Her body went rigid into an orgasm. She felt momentarily paralyzed. Never had she been so electrified.
She reached down for his armpits then and urged him upward. He was reluctant to leave the nectar in her pussy. He came up licking his lips and smiling pleasantly, but he knew what she wanted, and even as her hands and silent mouthing indicated as wildly as she could what she needed, he plunged his cock, that enormous rod with the globular head, deep into her body with one momentous shove, so that her body almost doubled up with the suddenness of the attack, and her mouth fell open with a gasp, and a groan escaped her lips, for it HURT, and the pain chewed through her body, for she hadn't expected that. He was simply enormous!
Unnnnnhhhhhh, she groaned.
Mathias fucked her with the same rapidity Edgar had shown. The huge cock shoved deeply, scoring like an electric shock with each new penetration.
Oh, fuck me! Martha thought wickedly, for it seemed like masochistic pleasure to seek the pain of his pipe-like penis. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.
And it was as if Mathias had read her thoughts, for it was a good thing he had brought out the rags and placed them beneath her. He lifted his ass over and over again, and like an oil drill tore downward into the cavern of her cunt, seeking the other side of paradise.
"Am I okay?" he asked like a heavy moan into her ear even as she spoke pleasure with her ooooohhhhs and aaaahhhhhhs.
"Uh-huh," she said quickly.
"Want it all now?" he asked.
Her eyes snapped open. "All? You mean it isn't all in?"
"Goodness no," he said huskily. "I only got a few inches in. The best part's yet to come."
It was beyond her wildest dreams! Did she dare? Could she take it? But she couldn't resist the temptation to try. "I want it all," she said breathlessly, for his ass hadn't stopped pounding her into the rags for a moment. "Every centimeter," she said.
"I don't know from centimeters," he said, "but here goes!" And he shoved it all into her ... with much difficulty ... slowly now, for even he could feel her tight resistance. Would she tear? As the root came into her with its broad solid base, Martha swooned into her delirium. She wasn't sure what happened exactly for a moment or two. The entire basement took on swirl. For a second or two she knew what it was to see stars, and the sharp pain which seared through her cunt warned her that she needed much experience yet before taking on giants.
He heaved his groin against her!
Again! Again! Again!
She said, "Oh, God, but you're tearing me apart!" And she bit into his earlobe as if to pain him might help her own.
Mathias slowly brought his heaving ass to a stop.
"No!" she groaned, so close ... so very close to that orgasm. "Don't stop. Don't ever stop!"
"You said I was hurting you," he said, his breath bounding against her face.
"Oh, but it's a good hurt. Good ... good ... good."
And she put her hands on his buttocks and tried her best to push him still further into her cunt. Impossible!
And when Mathias Row came, it was like thunder had violated the basement. The furnace seemed to shake, and even Edgar sensed the quake of his heaving spirit and came back to investigate. The dog sniffed at Mathias' buttocks, licking his hairy asshole, and lay down beside them. But the company made no difference to Mathias. He and Martha were oblivious to intrusion of any kind. Cum splattered against the backsides of her cunt and mingled with Edgar's and her two earlier men fuckers, and the lava flow of cum from her stretched cunt was dynamic and thick even with Mathias' cock still enormous inside her. Like a well-lubricated piston, her cunt gave additional width and depth to his shove, and Martha was positive it would have been the same wonderful sensation if he had rammed his forearm up her twat, for she had passed the pain now and pure pleasure had taken its place.
She groaned, "I'm cummmmmmiiinnngg," and her whole body shuddered with the wracking sensation pouring through her system. She could feel Mathias' contracting and throbbing cock strumming the depths of her pussy like a well-plucked guitar, and her clitoris felt ravished.
"God help me," she moaned again, clawing her nails into Mathias' back, "I came again!"
And this time it was a mutual orgasm, and when it was finished and the fit had left their bodies, they seemed to collapse weakly, Mathias' member relentlessly buried and stretching Martha to her limit, and Martha's pussy pouting little spurts of much mingled cum out and onto the floor.
Edgar sat up on his haunches and licked the cum from the floor between Mathias' and Martha's legs, and when he was finished, he began to lick first Martha's exposed ass, then Mathias' ... and it was a long time before they could bring themselves to break the connection.
CHAPTER FIVE
Tony had made it to fourth period study hall, but he couldn't get his mental faculties to cooperate with the studying. For a few moments he had picked angora fuzz from the sweater on the girl in front of him, because the little gobs of fuzz reminded him of Martha Gorman's cunt. Angora sweaters he found amazing enough. The girl in front of him was wearing the only one he ever had seen, and one day during lunch she had told him that she actually kept the sweater in the refrigerator. The cold kept the fuzz up. But now in Tony's case it was simply a matter of a relentless memory keeping his pecker up. He was counting the hours and the minutes until he could shove his cock up Martha Gorman's pussy again, for she had invited him. She had invited others too ... at least asked him to bring others along. He still hadn't made up his mind about whom to ask. Who the hell would he want to share his catch with? It was a damned hard decision. And his imagination began to stretch again. He was picturing two bucks on a bucking broad.
He was thinking, I've got a lot of cock ... enough to send damned near every broad I've ever fucked before screaming for mercy and the protection of her clitoris. But Martha Gorman-the one he could see in his study hall daydream-was a different sort of ass.
The first time I saw Martha she came at me from the cage of the Nutcrackers Bar. She was all tits ... BIG ones, like make for a gourmet din-din. Her forty-fours were ripe red at the nipples and firmly upturned, like twin fish hooks, I thought, aimed at ME, a gulping bass with a hard-on. When she sat down beside me at the bar, she swung aside her sequined G-string, and the loveliest cavern of dewy cunt winked at me. She didn't shave. (Somehow Tony had gotten the impression from Old French versions of Henry Miller that hairy armpits and hairier cunts were sexier than the shaved, scenty versions.) She did trim the rich brown hair to a point above her slit, and it all looked so goddamned inviting. I had this here urge to bury my nose into the depths of Martha Gorman's pussy and inhale ecstasy.
"Your phone call sounded urgent," she said, snapping her fingers at Bosco, the bartender. Bosco, the well-trained gorilla he was, looked a bit like the stupe in front row chemistry class, and knew instantly that the signal meant Martha wanted her make-up kit and a double Scotch.
The Scotch came straight, and so did the hungry look Bosco gave her while she freshened her powder and lipstick. She snapped shut the kit and handed it back to him. He was damned near painting the bar with drool and panting.
"Poor Bosco," I murmured when he was out of hearing range. The combo was beating the hell out of an old Iron Butterfly arrangement.
"He's a lot of man," said Martha frowning, "with not so lotta dick." She held up two fingers only an inch apart. "Itsy."
"Poor Bosco!"
"Now, you with your phone calls," and she slithered closer to me, her hand grabbing at my fly. "LOTS!"
"You pull it out here and some other broad might hop on first."
She grinned. "Not with old Martha here first." She unzipped me, and her hand reached in and grasped my ready rod. She was electric.
"Bosco might get jealous," I said, teasing, tormenting her need, for I knew she needed big dicks like I needed hot cunts. BAD!
When the lights damned near darkened for Flotilla's dance in the cage-a slightly older version of Martha with a bit more to bounce-Martha flicked my dick into the air, exposing my cock, balls and all. Good soldier that it was, it stood damned tall, thick, and throbbingly hard. Martha pushed the sinful skin back and forth playfully.
"You just gonna play with it?" I said.
"Goddamn, NO!" She scooted off the seat and kneeled before me. I liked her mouth. God, how I like Martha Gorman's mouth!
Martha was a pro. She kissed the head of my cock with delicacy and ran her lacey tongue around it until I couldn't control my nerves down to the curl of my toes. She bit my shaft affectionately and kissed it again. Then, gently, she slipped that thick heavy head into her mouth and began to ritualize.
Martha sucked with her whole body. She pulled a man's balls up right through his cock. She played that length like a child with a long stick of peppermint.
"Suck it, baby," I moaned with delight. "Eat it all!"
She was one of the few women who could take all of my dong into her mouth. She swallowed it whole, right down to the nuts and hair, and the nuts she fingered joyfully with all ten searching, wonderful fingers. I put my hands to her head and pressed her tightly to my nest. I moved my buttocks gently so as to be a part of the action while not messing up her routine.
Up and down my cock she stormed, sucking, pulling, gnawing, kissing, until she built up a suction that threatened to pull me into her.
Jonah swallowed by Martha!
Finally what had to give ... gave.
I shoved my cock deep into her mouth, for I knew Martha could take it. I thwacked my belly against her forehead and fucked her as if her mouth had been the most inviting pussy this side of heaven.
I CAME!
SHE SWALLOWED!
I CAME AGAIN ... AND AGAIN!
At the bar in the Nutcrackers I was soaring.
As if on cue, when Martha licked my dick off and put it back to beddy-bye in my pants, the lights came up and Flotilla floated from the cage. It was Martha's turn again.
"You got anything left?" she asked hopefully.
"You know it!" I exclaimed. "Why the hell d'ya think I called? Just for a lousy blow job?"
"Lousy!"
"Passable...."
She snorted. "There's one problem, though, lover. Your call gave me a dilemma, as those young professors at the college keep saying. I already got a pair of nuts waiting for me, Randy Everett. He's at the place waiting for me now.
I'm supposed to meet up with him after this here number."
"You mean Samson Everett, the hung heavy stud of the football field in the old days?"
"The same," she giggled. "He likes girls too. It's the hung heavy part that I like."
"Well, I've got my needs too, Cunt."
She winked. "Shit. All right, Peckerface, you game for the unusual tonight?"
"So long's I don't have to fuck Samson."
She giggled, and her tits wobbled deliciously. "I'll take you both. At the same time in the front, then front to back. What say?"
"That's unusual? You've taken two at a time before."
She patted me on the remains of my hard-on and said wickedly, "Two mules?"
That was real flattery coming from Martha Gorman, because she had been taught the ropes by her mother who actually had taken young mules, the real things.
Martha's mother had been with this get-with-it theater group in San Francisco who put on porny shows in the basement of a defunct theater. Martha called them the "blast of the two-a-days."
Anyway, her mother had practiced on the young studs in the group, and when they couldn't find one hung heavy enough to satisfy her she, on a butt of a joke, took on an enormous St. Bernard dog. Well, Martha said she enjoyed that monster so much that she actually went the route of the mules. Lots of cunt stories float around about women being split open by heavy hung mules and burros, but Martha's mother was the legit. She had them build a cradle and the works to hold the young animal and to separate her from most of his foot and a half dong. She never pretended to take anything beyond a very young mule.
Anyway, Martha's mom would lie down beneath the beast and massage its weapon with her toes. Several nude male dons would dance around in a real frenzy during the intercourse, and they helped to guide the animal's four and a half inch thick cock into place between the stretched lips of her Vaselined twat.
The animal did the rest.
She was allowed to take the animal up to twelve inches. Further probably would have split even her from A-hole to appetite.
"Mom always said," Martha related, "that it was the fact she lost interest in her figure and went up to nearly three hundred pounds that allowed her to do it at all. None of the men were interested much any more, especially because it took at least two at the same time to help her at all."
After a couple of years of mules, Martha's mother had retired to a farm and took on some splendid bulls, boars and billies, and a time or two she could convince a few of the farmhands to gang bang her, like three at a time, two in the old puss and one of the studs with the biggest on the back track. Meeting as all that cock did somewhat in the middle of her passage helped to stimulate the good ole days.
And as Tony's daydream continued, though he pretended to be studying, it was near midnight in his dream and they had reached Martha's pad. Everything was nice.
The whole place was either carpeted or padded in white, very plush and very spongey. She once had said, If I'm gonna be able to get it, I want to be prepared to have it anywhere, any time, anyhow. I myself, had fucked Martha on the floor, the sofa, bed, in the bathtub, standing on our heads against the wall to show how the Yogis do it, and once I even scored up her ass while she was bent over at the oven in the kitchen actually cooking me a meal. At that moment, I remember, I would rather have had the pussy for supper.
That was the time she had looked so damned scrumptious wearing nothing but the little see-through apron. She was bent over, and her tits were hanging free, and her triangle of so-soft hair was offered up to me. She accused me of taking the back door on purpose, but I confessed I had missed my mark. It had been delightful, and since then I've opened that back door as often as I've opened the front.
Samson was ready, willing and able when we arrived. He just wanted to empty his load, and when we arrived he was reclined on the white sofa, his limp length lolling over his thigh and pointing at the floor. I could see why he could shift gears from one fucking wile to another so easily. He was everything a broad could want; handsomely hairy and muscular, thin waisted, and of a magnificent California tawny color. His eyes were buckle-my-knees blue, and his hair was intense black. Yes, I could have gone for a piece of Samson's ass if I were on a desert island or in solitary confinement in an all-male nudist jail ... but there was Martha ... and she sure won't be deserted. When Samson saw us both his pointer pointed quickly toward the ceiling, as if Martha had had one of those goodies boxes in her cunt that whistled "Dixie" or something and caused garage doors to go up and stiff cocks to get stiffer.
"Fun and games tonight," Martha sang out. She dropped her coat immediately, and of course wasn't wearing a stitch. I felt damned near obscene having to undress, while Samson got a head start on the sofa. And to make matters worse, my damned trousers got stuck on my shoes and I fell.
Samson and Martha were on me quickly while I was helpless. Martha was kissing me and tonguing me and giggling all the while ... and Samson, delightful stud that he was, was kissing and rimming the lips of Martha's vulva and sucking at her clitoris even as she bent over me.
She had my cock in her hands and was pumping it joyously to a rigid state. It was an insane kind of joy capturing me!
Finally, when I was just a hair from shooting off, Samson took hold of my pants and shorts and pulled them off together. At the same time Martha eased her attack and unbuttoned my shirt so that I could squeeze out of it ... but they wouldn't let me up.
"Name your poison," I said, as if there was something I could have done about it if I didn't agree with their version of hemlock.
Martha was kneeling between my parted legs and in front of Samson. I could feel her magnificent dark bush rubbing against my straining cock and balls. I could feel the small electric thrills shooting through me as the hairs tickled my crown which eased out of its foreskin encasement easily to the stretch of my hard-on.
"I want you," she said to me ... then after a moment's heavy breathing she added to Samson, "and you...." She pointed a wicked painted fingernail at me. "You ... front door." Then the same nail pointed its wrath at Samson, and she said, "And you, my mighty Samson, take the rear please."
Samson and I seemed to take hold of her waist at the same time. I could feel his hands beneath mine. They felt as anxious as mine to get on with it ... and I knew that if his cock shoves matched my cock shoves, good ole Martha would fairly soar. To ready us, she already had my hard cock throbbing in her hand, and she took hold of Samson's enormity and treated it in much the same manner, pushing back the tight foreskin so that his bright pink crown bloomed and the deep dark urethral pit winked at the tournament about to take place. Our two cocks were now purple veined with rigidity.
Almost without noticing how she could do it, I watched Martha do a semi backbend and kiss Samson's penis, encircling his huge dome with her lips for a moment then wetting the entire length of his cock with saliva because she didn't want to leave the grouping for the Vaseline. She knew she was taking a chance on a bit of pain when Samson's thickness broke the barriers of her ass, but a little pain was what the joue d'amour was all about.
Then Martha leaned over me to allow Samson to enter her first, and her big tits with their ripe dark red nipple globes swung down over my lips. I couldn't resist the temptation to nibble, and my mouth did a quick 'fox at the grapes' bit as I tongued and sucked at each nipple in turn. And I watched as a smooth smile of delight mixed with pain consumed her beautiful face, as I sucked up vitality through her breasts and as Samson pushed his pipe up into her ass to his balls. He was obviously experienced and gentle, but as best I could tell he was relentless. Once that mighty knob broke open the bud of her tail, he never once paused in his shove until he had buried it all ... and had Martha's mouth open to the sudden push of pain and delight and the murmur of mixed emotion moving on her anxious breath, "Ohhh, mahmas getttiiinnnggg fffuuuccckkkeeeddd!"
She straightened over me then, reluctantly withdrawing her left nipple from my sucking mouth, and Samson came on down with her movement so that he was kneeling with his legs spread wide apart to accommodate her buttocks and thighs while she invited me to enter her cunt. Obviously sitting on Samson's cock that way gave him much added penetration, and Martha's closed eyes and panting breath told me that she was experiencing an undreamed of penetration.
I got up on my knees and adjusted myself so that, once in, I could lie back easily without breaking connection. Martha took my heavy cock in both hands and eased it to the lips of her cunt. It took the crown easily enough, but much more effort was required to send my shaft home, it had become so rigid with anticipation.
"Oh, Tony, whatever have you done to yourself?" Martha moaned as I pushed just as relentlessly as Samson had to gain hilt-deep entry.
"Why whatever do you mean?" I asked coyly, knowing full well what she meant.
"Why, you and Samson are equals now!"
She never once opened her eyes through all that, but Samson and I winked at each other. It was a supreme compliment for both of us. Samson had won a prize once down on Muscle Beach for the "Best Packed Posing Strap." Coming from that particular group of judges, the plastic replica of a hard dick, which Samson now had encased over his fireplace at his pad, was a real tour de force and one I was particularly pleased to be compared with.
The wink told me too that Samson was as ready as I was for the mutual attack. We moved around so that all of us could lie on our sides. I let Samson put his leg over Martha's left thigh first, then Martha lifted her leg over mine and I scooted down and under her a bit so that everything was parted nicely for everyone.
"One ... two ... three ... HUT!" she moaned in her pleasure counting cadence, and both Samson and I began to pump gently in unison.
Our timing was perfect.
We seemed to meet in the middle.
Each time we shoved mutually, Martha groaned Ohhhhhh or Ahhhhhh or Unnnnnnh, and she licked her lips and moved her ass a lot.
Gradually we increased the tempo.
Faster.
Faster.
Until poor Martha was near swooning and grasping at me feverishly as if she needed some kind of rein on which to hold on for life.
I seized her boobs with both hands and pulled them down so that I could suck hard, first one then the other, and Samson hunched over her and kissed and licked at her neck and ears and shoulders, and we both could feel her quivering into one orgasm after another, her body growing quite rigid, then relaxed completely, then more rigid yet, until the poor hooker felt as if she might have collapsed from sheer delight.
Samson was the first to cum.
I didn't chalk it up to any kind of victory on my part. It always was harder to stave off orgasm in the ass.
But that spunk must have hit Martha's bowels doing sixty, because for the first time ever I heard Martha scream out with her pleasure as Samson's cock swelled inside her with his spasms, and for some time our three throbbing bodies lay tightly together. Then I began my movements again and soon ... soon ... soon ... tooooosoooooonnnnn! CUMCUMCUMCUMCUMCUUUUUUUUMMMMM!
My chest heaved with my release.
Martha pressed down against me, she was so weak, and that movement brought Samson's body down atop her so that we lay for a while sandwiched together, emptied only for a brief respite.
Soon it would be time to swap off.
Like taking candy from a tray, I'd have a piece of cunt, then a piece of ass.
We fucked Martha all night long.
And in the morning we had mushrooms and onions in scrambled eggs. Martha lay across our legs and we used her belly for a tray, and from time to time Samson would pluck at or suck a breast, and I would ram a finger up her stinky cunt, and Martha ... she was very, very careful not to spill the orange juice.
CHAPTER SIX
Mathias Row helped Martha Gorman search for Mr. Rimmer's cufflink. They crawled around the furnace for a while, because it seemed the link must have bounced out of the vent when it reached the floor. They made a rather nice-looking sight for Edgar, who watched from a few feet away the way Mathias' mighty manhood swung long and weighty between his legs. Edgar must have been thinking, as even dogs are prone to do, about all the times he had licked Mathias' asshole and balls, yes, even his cock. They had become pretty good buddies over the years. It had started when Edgar was just a pup, and he'd sleep with Mathias wherever the big man happened to be. They both had discovered the mutual joys of bunking together on a particularly cold winter night, when Mathias had been out of work and out of money. They had bedded down in a very windy and cold corner of a boxcar, and Edgar had snuggled into Mathias' crotch under his old, tattered overcoat.
As Mathias was accustomed to doing, he'd unzip his fly and unbutton the top of his trousers and unbuckle his old belt to allow some turning and breathing room while he slept. Well, during the night the big man would have dreams, because he'd have to go so long ... so damned long between lays ... and his enormous cock would get quite large and quite hard and rise up from his open fly. The sudden appearance of all that sex was alarming even to Edgar who could smell the heady seminal aroma of Mathias' genitals, and he couldn't resist, as animals also are prone to do, licking the exposed monstrosity. That sudden splendid sensation only caused more stiffness, and it did not take long for Edgar to discover how it pleased his master and how treats seemed to increase in number whenever Mathias could afford a bone or something special like a piece of candy. But Edgar even enjoyed, as animals are prone to do, sucking and licking at Mathias' cock, for that first time had brought a surprise reward. He had licked and licked and licked, and the cock had jerked and throbbed and jumped around a lot, and all of a sudden Edgar's tongue and mouth had been gorged with bright white, sticky, delicious, fishy-tasting cum. It had kept flowing for a long time that night, and he had licked and licked and genuinely felt after that that his master truly was a miracle master.
Now Edgar watched as the two of them crawled around the furnace on all fours. He had tasted Mathias, and he had tasted Martha, and now he couldn't make up his mind which tasted best.
"I found it!" Martha said suddenly and held up the link.
"Good!" Mathias said, and he was about to get up when he suddenly said, "God!" and Martha saw Edgar suddenly licking Mathias' swinging balls and cock and ass with large enveloping swoops of his big wet pink tongue. And then the dog moved over suddenly to her and seemed almost to insert the quivering tip of his tongue into her pulsing slit before he slapped its moist length up through the crack between her buttocks.
"Oh, Jeez," she said with a gasp, for it felt so good. She felt like she almost could take them both at the same time. Would it work? she wondered. She doubted if she could get the dog to fuck her in the ass, because, being a male dog, he might not want anything but the pussy. Assholes to a dog were to be licked and supped upon. But maybe Mathias ... she'd ask him.
Mathias had his eyes closed and his ass pushed back to help Edgar with his renewed attack. The dog lapped at the swinging balls, and Martha could see that Mathias' cock was as hard as ever. She noticed it just in time to see that gorgeous cock-head come out of his sheath and bloom again, its urethral opening wide and hungry for a new place to bury itself to see all the goodies that a mounted man could enjoy. Yes, I'll ask him!
"Mister Row-" she started. He gasped, "Oh, call me Matt, please." And the dog was licking him again.
"Matt ... would you fuck me in the ass?"
"Oh, YES!"
She took on a lilt in her voice at the acceptance. "And ... and would you mind of ole Edgar fucked me regular like while you do?"
"Shit, NO. Like I said, I don't mind sharing with my dog."
"Oh, good!"
The dog had left Edgar and was licking at Martha's ass again. And again his tongue flicked over her pussy and sent sensations ringing her clitoris like an unflawed bell. She looked between her legs and she could see his hefty balls hanging between his haunches like the clappers for her bell, and she could see that thick pointed rod already inches pink out of its furry sheath.
"How the heck we gonna work it?" asked Mathias rather stupidly. It did, somehow, seem like an unworkable problem.
"I'll tell you what," said Martha, squealing just a little with each of Edgar's licks. "You lie down on your back...." She looked at the lavender-veined growth between Mathias' legs and sighed, "Ohhh, myyy!" Then she caught herself and continued, " ... and I'll sit down backwards onto your cock, and when you're all the way in, I'll lie back on you and that'll spread me and set me up for Edgar to mount me from the front. Okay?"
"You're a genius, Miss Gorman...."
"It'll be easier that way too. I'll be able to ease myself down onto you." She looked at that enormity again. She'd not had anything like that before up her ass. She'd had a few questionable bowel movements, but nothing like that.
"Think your purty little bottom can take all this?"
"I think my 'purty' little bottom's gonna take all that!"
"I like I'll girls with spunk."
"No," Martha said, shaking her head cutely then giggling as Edgar licked her pussy again, and she reached over and held Mathias' balls very gently. "You're the one with all the spunk." His balls were so large that she couldn't nearly hold all of them in her hands. She managed to hold one nut, but the one just rolled from her fingers and hung down with a lot of scrotum sack. "Now, roll over."
Mathias did as she instructed.
Once on his back, his cock took on frightful proportions, standing up so perpendicular to his body that way as he held it upright with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand so Martha could mount him more easily. He spread his legs so Martha could kneel between them.
For a moment Martha regretted giving up Edgar's hard-working tongue. She knew the beast gave her up reluctantly too, because he whined terribly when she pulled away, and he took one futile final lick at her clitoris, which now was as hard in its own way as Mathias' cock.
Before she moistened the gigantic tube with her own spittle, she couldn't resist admiring its mighty girth. She kneeled between his legs and put her face down close to his instrument. It was the first time she ever had looked so closely at what made a man a MAN.
It was a beautiful piece of sculpture, a man's cock. She wondered if she could have accomplished a work as smoothly beautiful and perfectly balanced if she was an artist. Looking at it from that angle, the balls hung down between his legs like two very large buns and the scrotum skin smoothed out so that the hair there took on the look of velvet in that light.
And from that beautiful base of dark skin loomed what reminded her of her first trip to the big trees in Sequoia National Park one vacation from college. That was the General Sherman Tree rising there from that earthy base. That was everything which had aroused or inspired Joyce Kilmer to write so beautifully about his TREES, and Martha couldn't help parodying that lovely poem with, I think that I shall never see, A tree more lovely than a cock, A cock whose hungry tube is pressed against This Martha's flowing nest....The way the smaller veins seemed to flow like a beautiful fan away from the large canal which flowed with the blood to make that warrior stand so bravely tall ... the way the foreskin tucked back so neatly but clung so securely to the crown at that one spot on the underside like lips, and she couldn't resist kissing it with a great deal of tenderness before she allowed that head which still smelled so deliciously of their recent mutual orgasms to enter her mouth and be suckled to a glowing moistness. And then she ran her wet lips and tongue around the entire length of that angelic phallic god and moistened it all. Mathias simply closed his eyes and offered silent praise for the delights coursing through his body, for the elegant little spasms which shook his cock and growled within his groin.
Then Martha turned around and, as Mathias guided his sceptre, she settled down against its head.
It seemed to be an impossibility.
The head would never fit into that small hole.
But Martha pressed down upon it as hard as she could, and she felt her flesh parting in an almost futile effort to house that ignoble head which would not cooperate.
Mathias reached out for her. He put his hands around the small bunch of flesh which was the angle between her thigh and waist as she squatted over him, and helped her by pulling her down gently and by shoving upward gently with a continuous thrust of his buttocks.
And at last the terrible, sudden pain grabbed her as the light bulb-size cock broke the barrier of her narrow passage and entered full force.
"OH, JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR!!!" she squalled, and Edgar's ears perked up with concern.
Martha said Unnnnh and pressed down, pain or no pain, for the anguish of the sudden burst became quickly less pain and more pleasure as she felt her bowel stretching to fit the incredibility of Mathias' size. She knew there was blood on his shaft. She knew she had torn some, but that didn't matter right then. A small bleeding would heal, but she wouldn't give up that pleasure no matter what!
Of course Martha thought the whole of Mathias' tube had gone into her.
But Martha was wrong!
Only the huge head had made it that first time.
Mathias moved his cock upward with a relentless shove of his buttocks.
It was hard on him too, for the pressure of her tight passage pressed the skin of his uncircumcised cock back so far as to set up an excruciating pain at first. He was afraid he might have to withdraw, and he didn't want that. He needed now to explore the deepest pit of her ass. He was in and he wanted to go deeper ... as far as his cock could reach. So he waited a moment until it seemed the foreskin had moved back up to where it rested comfortably around the corona, and he thrust again ... with a steady driving pressure that caused Martha's mouth to drop open with surprise and shock.
"YOU'RE TEARING MY ASS APART!"
"What should I do? Go on or pull out?"
"Don't you dare pull out!" Martha raged. And to be sure he didn't, she sat down hard just as he thrust upward again, and the combined movement thrust Mathias' cock into her completely.
She bit her lips to keep from screaming, as the almost unbearable pain seared through her body. But pain would go away.
I've discovered what my mother knew all along, she thought.
I've discovered that heaven comes one step closer every time a big cock meets up with a small hole. Oh, Jesus, God, let him fuck me!
"Okay?" Mathias asked meekly.
"Oh, fuck me!" she said with gusto. She knew damned well she was bleeding now, but it still could wait. SHE WAS BEING FUCKED LIKE A QUEEN AT COURT! A COURT OF SUPERSTUDS! And there was Edgar, bless him, yet to get his in her.
Mathias pounded her ass with those thick inches until the entire length had ground out a comfortable home for itself. The blood mixed with the saliva to make a nice slippery coating inside her asshole, and the hefty instrument moved with ease now to the marching tune of Martha's farting bowel. Mathias pumped her high with great heaping gulps of air, and Martha farted them out around his cock with great grateful bursts of music. And when she was more comfortable with his thrusts, she leaned back against him ... far back.
The incredible pressure of his deep penetration was eased somewhat by her leaning back, for at least an inch of his cock was charged from her ass and denied room at the inn, but the shift in position played a new melody with the cock against the walls of her colon.
She motioned now for Edgar.
The big dog came quickly to her. She petted his furry head, and he licked at her hands and arms, then sniffed around her cunt and Mathias' legs a bit. It felt so good every time he sniffed around her pussy. She was grateful for every whiff.
Mathias paused in his fucking for a while. He didn't want to run the risk of cuming before Edgar had mounted. He didn't want to cheat Martha of her full fling.
Edgar seemed to know exactly what Martha wanted.
He hunched up close to her, mounted her, putting his paws on either side of her, and the warm fuzziness of his fur felt delightful against her body.
This time she could see Edgar's approaching length of lumbering cock plainly. It was amazing how a male dog always started fucking before his tool ever broke the surface, but Edgar's haunches were doing fifty miles a minute as that sharp round rod bore into the spread lips of her cunt.
THAT WAS WHAT SCREWING WAS ALL ABOUT, her mind seemed to shout as Edgar's rapid rotating haunches shoved his mightiness directly up her shaft. There was no hesitation, no kind of foreplay ... just machine gun fucking, whamwhamwhamwhamwhamwham!
Mathias started up again too. He was slower than Edgar of course, but what he lacked in speed and friction, he sure made up in size and location.
Bright splashes of color seemed to explode before Martha's eyes.
Red, for the anger of MARS!
Orange, for the fires which seemed to be consuming her ass from remnants of the pain and from the heat-provoking of Edgar's streamlined, rapid-action cock now buried to the swinging clappers in her cunt. She could feel those balls banging what space was left between invading cocks.
Now she wished she had either Tony or Mr. Rimmer.
She wanted a cock in every hole.
She longed right then for a big thick cock in her mouth. She wanted to feel the mutual explosions everywhere. She dreamed of taking Mathias' burst of cum flood into her ass, Edgar's spitfire release into her cunt and Tony's or Mr. Rimmer's sure dam bursting into her mouth and splashing like before against her epiglotis.
Oh, wouldn't that be paradise to own ... to literally possess THREE stupendous cocks.
And then she was thinking, Who knows, when I get used to three I could graduate to SIX. How? Two in the cunt, one up the ole bunghole, one in the mouth, and one in each hand as I jack them off. And she had her first mighty orgasm with that thought so delightful on her mind.
Blue, because fire burned hotter on blue.
Green, because she knew every other woman would be green with envy if they knew how much cock she had folded into herself at that moment.
DAMNED NEAR TWENTY INCHES OF HOT THROBBING MEAT ARE CALLING ME HOME RIGHT NOW!
Unnnnnh ... as Mathias' cock slammed up into her.
Unnnnnh ... as Edgar's pile-driving rod rammed rigidly into her cunt.
Unnnnnnnnnnhhhhhhh! as they met somewhere midway.
Schliiiiiip. Schloooooop. Schlip. Schlop. Sloop.
A second and tremendous orgasm wracked her body.
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....
Edgar was the first this time. His hot cum burst like a starburst into her cunt, and Mathias came rapidly behind his dog, sending a surge of hot liquid up deeply into her ass. There were all those walls of bowel separating the two pounding, throbbing, jerking, ramming cocks, but it seemed their awards were presented hotly against some mutual podium deep inside her. Oh, now if only I had Tony in my mouth. And the idea struck her. I'll give Mathias my address too. And he can even bring Edgar.
She drifted on the plethora of the waves of cum still shooting in short bursts through her system.
She could feel Mathias' giant cock growing weakly, but still swelling and contracting in her ass.
She could feel Edgar trapped now by her tightened pussy pulsations. His cock jerked and bounced inside her like a spear, swollen and inflamed she was sure, and exquisitely pleasant agasnst the walls of her canyon.
I'll never give you back to the bitches, she thought, and, as if Edgar understood, he whined from delight.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tony had reached the point where it seemed almost impossible to relieve his constant hard-on. He had toyed with the idea of stopping by the rest room and jacking off, but he wanted to be sure to have all of his cum to offer Martha Gorman when he stopped by her house. He even had thought about stopping by her room again, but a schoolmate had heard him talking out loud to himself at his locker-fortunately he had heard only Miss Gorman's name and nothing more-and had told him that Miss Gorman hadn't made any of her classes all day, that the principal had had the substitute stay over until Miss Gorman was able to return. It had bothered Tony at first, but he reasoned that maybe she was indoctrinating some of the other studs like she had tried to indoctrinate him. He tried not to feel jealous; she had asked him to bring along a buddy or two or three or four.
But by the time he had reached the last class of the day, one which he always dreaded because Miss Gertrude Loeb was so incredibly homely, he was beside himself. He'd have fucked anyone and anything. Even Gertrude Loeb took on sexual significance as he sat at his desk and eyed her thin arms and legs and her plain black matronly dress. She wore very thick glasses, but in his present condition that wouldn't have mattered at all. In fact ... women like Gertrude Loeb, I hear, can make men her prisoners ... can do bizarre and strange and wonderful, exciting things with them, simply because they have to overcome their ugliness. They become sexual BEASTS OF PREY on innocent men.
And Gertrude Loeb stepped into Tony's daydream in his effort to relieve his condition. The dream took form....
Gertrude Loeb knew that men came in assorted sizes, for inherent in her nature at puberty and throughout her life had been a keen interest in picture books on sex and fetishes of assorted genres. She had tried her philosophies and positions on any and all of the male set through high school and college who were able to raise a decent hard-on. Satisfied that most men possessed sexual organs somewhere between five inches and ten inches in the usably 'stiff state, Gertie determined never to be without. And it was surprising how many very well-endowed and rather good-looking hung heavies took pity on her and obliged her every fetish to become her 'goyim."
Gertie chose 'goyim' for two reasons. All of the Jewish boys she knew either knew her friends and family and might fuck and tell, or they had read Portnoy's Complaint and fainted, or they had become good husbands. Everyone knew that Jewish men made the best husbands. Everyone also knew that good Jewish husbands became too rich to need her bribery. 'Goyim', on the other hand, still did need her money, and she'd be depriving no one of decent husbanding. She placed the following ad in an underground paper after she graduated to be sure of a never-ending supply of cock, and the quick, the able, the big, the small, the strong and the weak all flocked to her cunt: The ad read:
WANTED: Lots of men for private pussy paradise. I suck, fuck and take on all I can at a time. If you've got a dick and it's real, stop by for a bed testing. Good pay, long hours, good food and fun. Good Gertie's at (phone number omitted for safety).
... for Tony's safety, because his balls had begun to ache, and his groin had begun to ache, and he was sure his cock had begun to ache, and only dreaming about release helped at all. So he dreamed on, hoping to hear the bell at any moment. Gorgeous Gertie honestly began to look good.
Gertie was at home by the time the first papers hit the street. She was nude and powdered and scented. She looked almost gorgeous-to a sex-starved aborgine-and good enough to be eaten-by a cannibal on a fast. But....
The men came.
The first man was a medium, but he dressed like a swinger. So ... she said "Strip," and he did.
He was beautifully tan, though he could have used a bit more time in the gym. His cock was stout enough, though Gertie found it a bit on the lightweight side in length.
"You been eating your spinach?" Gertie asked him.
"I'm a steak and eggs man," he said.
"You need iron," she said ... but she made the mistake of stroking his cock and it rose ... and rose ... and rose, and Gertie gasped with delight as he rammed it home. For a moment Gertie thought, though he had used the front door, that he must have made her a new asshole so quick and anxious was his attack. His dick shot into her straight as an arrow and stabbed and stabbed and stabbed until he had emptied what seemed like a bucket of cum into her, and Gertie grabbed his shoulders and held him close, deep inside of her. "You pass! You pass!" she moaned. "Stand over there. I think I hear someone else coming."
The second man was quite tall, fully six feet seven or eight, and Gertie had the feeling she could stick her nose in his belly button. But, praise be, she gasped, "Look at the size of THAT!" His wigwag truly was of magnificent proportions. "My luck just can't hold," she said.
Gertie was about to give her cunt up as an offering to his spear when the third knock resounded and Joe College himself stormed in like a Noel Coward about to say, "Tennis, anyone?" He even had his freshman cap in tow. The big tall X-rated swinger with the long stick hovered over Gertie on the floor. Only the head of his beast of a stick was in, for Gertie was interested in seeing the new college man.
"Let me see what you've got, Sonny," she said, pulling the tall man down on top of her so that his pole rammed home. She shuddered with delight and watched the new college boy drop his drawers. The tall man humped like hell.
The college boy blushed slightly and swallowed with a thud as Gertie looked him over from the bottom of his heavy nuts to the tip of his admirable cock. It wasn't nearly so long as the tall man's inside of her, grinding away, but it was thick thick ... real thick.
"I always wanted two men on me at once," Gertie said.
"Hey, you," she said to the tall man fucking her. "You mind a ... you're not queer are you?"
The tall man grunted without stopping the fuck, "Does it feel like I'm queer?"
Gertie decided he was okay. "You ever read DeSade's Juliette?"
"Yeah. Twice."
"Did you think the men in there were queer?"
"Shit, no."
Gertie cackled. "Well, would you take a stiff dick up your ass?"
"You're putting me on," he grumbled.
"No, damn it. I want to put him on," she said, waving one hand at the college boy.
"Shove to," he said to the boy.
"Must I?" the Joe College said, blushing again.
"Ram in," she instructed him. "It's good for the pocketbook. Know what I mean?"
Joe College nodded and promptly stripped, flipped his dick until it was hard and projected his monster directly into the tall man's unlubricated asshole. The tall man grimaced broadly, grunted, and shoved the harder into Gertie who moaned deliciously at the added weight and momentum Joe College brought to the heap. The college boy, now a man, fucked the hell out of the tall man's bunghole and the tall man fucked the shit out of Gertie, and, marvel of marvels, they all came together.
"Yuuuummmmmmm," said Gertie when it was over and the bell rang for the fourth go. "Stand over there beside him," she instructed the now limp-dicked tall man and the thoroughly depleted collegiate with the shitty dick.
Then in walked a midget.
Damn it, she thought. He couldn't have more'n three inches. He ain't a hair over three-feet-five.
"You're putting me on," said Gertie.
"I came to eat," said the midget. "I haven't got a lot between my ears and less between my legs, but I've got a wicked tongue and I'm just the right height." With that he walked straight into Gertie, up close, and he stuck his tongue into her cunt, seized her clitoris and sucked for all he was worth.
Gertie felt like she was about to turn inside out when a marvelously muscle-bound male bounded through the door which the midget had left open. He stripped quickly, anxious to show off his prowess, and, seeing the front end stopped up by the midget's prying, sucking tongue, he attached Gertie from the rear.
"Be still, fair maiden," he said, "and I'll hump and I'll bump and I'll blow your asshole out!"
"Oh, do!" said Gertie, poking out her behind so that nothing would deprive her of every centimeter of his delightful cock.
With a tongue doing a race in her twat and a dick hitting a farty in her fanny, Gertie surveyed all she had to be grateful for. THERE WERE FIVE OF THEM NOW. Enough. They all ... every one of them ... had PASSED.
Eventually, after Gertie had her fourth climax, the midget withdrew his tongue. The marvelous mass of muscle spouted into her like a mad Moby Dick, and when he writhed loose from her, the midget licked him shitlessly clean as Gertie instructed him to ... while happy Gertie locked the door against further intruders.
She wanted everybody, but she didn't wish to be piggish either. Five was a sufficient number.
"Let me see now," she said, "how shall we do it the first time?"
"What about the wages?" asked the tall man.
"A hundred a week; forty hours every week; time-and-a-half for overtime. Okay?"
The tall man began to stiffen again at the sound of the word 'overtime."
"Do we punch a clock?" asked the medium man.
Gertie patted her pussy. "This is the only clock you have to worry about punching." Then she patted her ass. "This one tells good time too." She grinned, "And the mouth runs a bit fast."
Finally, after much thought, Gertie had it figured out. How to arrange her first batch of goyim.
The tall man would stand and she'd blow him, while the midget was sucking on her tits, while the college boy scooted under her and fucked her in the cunt, while the marvelous mass of muscle fucked her in the ass, while the medium man would run around her body and tickle her with a feather and substitute for whom ever came first. Then, she said, they'd rotate, after the midget licked everybody clean. She'd blow the whole bunch before it was over.
Afterward they all lay around exhausted for a long time.
It was about four in the morning when a terrible accident happened. The tall man with the big bulging cock had awakened with a piss hard-on and wanted a piece bad, but he didn't want to wake anybody. He went to take a piss, and when he came back his eyes hadn't adjusted to the dark again. He thought he had put his tremendous cock into Gertie's cunt, for it went in so easily and so deeply so quickly, but he couldn't have known that the poor midget hadn't even had a chance to howl before the entire length had been packed, rammed and crammed down the poor squirt's throat and, holding the midget's back so that he thought it was Gertie's buttocks, he mistook the poor bastard's thrashing for Gertie's orgasm dance and fucked him hard until the midget stopped thrashing at all and by the time the tall man's eyes adjusted to the dark and he realized the terrible mistake he had made, it was too late anyway, so he just kept on fucking until dawn.
They buried the poor well-used body in the back yard that morning.
"He was a good piece of mouth," the tall man said in way of eulogy.
"You should have been more careful," Gertie said. "Now who'll do the sucking and the licking? You've messed up a working set."
But, thanks to the connivery of a neighborhood bitch in heat digging in the yard for the scenty smell of cum all over the buried midget, the dog catcher found the body. He arrested all of them, but Gertie didn't mind so much, for the dog catcher fucked her all the way to the station while the tall man drove and the medium man got a piece of Gertie's ass and Joe College and the mass of muscle took turns poking their poles into her mouth.
And the Judge, bless him, when he saw the parade of goodies marching into his chambers-for he had thought it best to hear the case in chambers-was soooooo lenient. After all, he was only four feet six and didn't have much between the legs either.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Martha Gorman thanked Mathias Row profusely for his help in finding the cufflink which belonged to Mr. Rimmer. She also thanked him for other things, and she was sure to pat Edgar on the head before leaving the basement. She had scribbled out her address and made Mathias promise he'd stop by sometime real soon...."and bring Edgar with you." Edgar must have understood, because the last thing Martha noticed as she went around the furnace toward the stairs, was Edgar's big wagging tail.
By the time she dropped off the cufflink for Mr. Rimmer, who wasn't in his office at the moment, and returned to her own room, she was surprised to find only two students waiting for her. And then she noticed the clock.
SCHOOL WAS OVER FOR THE DAY!
She had fucked away a whole day!
Her first ever.
Wasn't that a record ... fucking away a whole day that way? Or had someone else beat her to that honor? She'd never know, so she decided not to ponder the question. What she did ponder, however, was the two boys in the classroom. They should have been out on the playing field, practicing throwing balls around ... and then she giggled. Maybe that was why they were there, to throw around about four balls.
But how could they possibly know that Martha was giving out goodies?
Did Tony fuck and tell?
Did Mr. Rimmer divulge the fact that Miss Gorman blew up cocks like balloons?
Surely not.
The first thing she noticed about each of the boys was their baskets. Both boys wore tight jeans, and for their ages they had nearly as much showing as Tony had. Impressive. In fact, one of them-the one with the blond hair like a Norwegian Eric-had a hammer on him so large that his jeans were worn and faded over its arc. Martha couldn't resist licking her lips, which both boys noticed right away and grinned at her.
"Evening, boys," she said. "Whatever happened to the day?"
They looked at each other humorously, then back at Miss Gorman and winked.
"Oh, my," she said out loud.
One of the boys-the dark-haired one who looked like a very young Johnny Carson-helped by saying, "Are you feeling better?" What he wasn't saying was that the grapevine had spread it around that Tony had fucked her and Mr. Rimmer's office had given out strange noises like heavy breathing during the morning and suddenly a substitute had taken all of Miss Gorman's classes and they had put two and two together and it came up 'Let's get a piece of Miss Gorman's ass."
"I'm feeling much better, thank you." She looked from one to the other, her eyes focused, of course, just below their belt line where bulges were more than just obvious. "But may I help you?"
"We stayed over to help you with your beating," said the blond.
"Beating?" said Martha.
"Oh, you know," offered the dark-haired one, "any old erasers or blankets or cocks or...."
"What did you say?" Martha asked curiously, her eyebrows raised effectively.
"Erasers," he said.
"No ... after that."
"Blankets."
"After that."
He said it proudly, "COCKS!"
"Yes, that."
They noticed how Martha Gorman sort of sidled around the front desks, and ... maybe it was really accidental that her hand just happened to brush against an eraser and knock it to the floor ... but when she bent over those two boys got the view of IT they had hoped for. IT winked and glittered at them and smiled so brightly with its pink luscious lips, and they could see the tongue which was Martha's clitoris sort of protruding when she bent over, and they could see the pink deep reaches of her cunt, which they still thought of as IT in the locker room but which now came on strong as pure pleasing CUNT!
What Martha didn't see with her little maneuver, though, was the rapidity which the blond showed in reaching his hard-on. Also what she did not have time to see was the blond taking the initiative and unzipping his fly quickly so that his lumbering giant of a cock could tumble out and aim directly at that glorious canyon of a cunt before she could straighten up.
The blond came on strong, and Martha felt the fireworks sensation of 'penis parting pussy' as he found the mark and buried his dick to the hair in one mighty shove. Though Martha had felt the delights of something much much bigger that day, every cock was a delight.
She tried to show appropriate shock when his hands grasped her waist and held her tightly back against his plunge, as his belly and balls thwacked away against her ass. It was only right though that a teacher should register some surprise when a student fucks her. So Martha said, "Oh, shame on you!"
"Yes," said the blond, his voice breaking slightly with the bounding of his bummer up her cunt.
"B-b-but w-w-w-e c-c-c-an't dooooo it-t-t h-h-here," groaned Martha as the rapidity of his plunge took on a significance like Edgar's.
"W-where then?" he asked, not missing a stroke.
Thwack Whack. Whack Thwack.
Her skin was so smoothly white and creamy, he thought ... what he could see peeking out from under her pushed-up skirt. He liked the delicious way her buttocks seemed to meet in one of those ethereal dimples. And her ass was so unblemished. She is much too nice to be a teacher, he thought.
"S-teeeeerrrrrrr mm-me toward the cl-cl-cl-cloakrrrroooomm," Martha said as he bammed her bottom.
This is no amateur, she was thinking.
She looked around at the dark-haired boy as the blond steered her toward the cloakroom, guiding her bent-over form like an elegant ship's prow heading for sea. He was Jason with his Argonauts, and she was a goddess made into the prow to steer him away from or out of trouble. As she went into the cloakroom, she noticed the dark-haired kid coming after them. His jeans were unzipped, and he wore no undershorts at all, and his cock, which was quite as nice as what was buried inside her, and his balls which looked heavy enough, were hanging out of the opened fly. It appeared he might have been having difficulty raising a hard-on. She'd take care of that okay.
When they all three were inside the cloakroom, Martha said, "Close the door," and then realized she didn't know the boys. "What's the name?" she asked the blond. "Don't you think a girl who is getting the poker in her pussy ought to know the poker's name?"
"Call me Andy," he said quickly, and Andy's ass assaulted onward. Thwack. Thwack. Whack!
The relentlessness of youth, Martha thought, feeling so much older and more mature now than Andy.
"And you?" she said, meaning the other boy, who still was standing just inside the closed door and behind Andy. ". .what's your name? And why don't you come around here so I-I-I-I (Andy had hit a particularly vulnerable spot and she was enjoying it.)-I-I-I-I Aye-yay-yay ... can see you better."
The black-haired kid moved around Andy's pounding ass and stopped in front of Martha. He simply stood there with all that limp cock hanging so forlornly out of his jeans, and Martha felt so sorry for him.
She thought it was a beautiful cock.
It hung straight down from his fly. Most men's cocks seemed to lean toward one side as if from the habit of which leg the man used to hang himself in. If a man used his right leg, then his cock forever hung to the right. If a man used his left, then the cock forever became a leftie. But this kid's humped out of his pants straight like some elegant ballet dancer leaping over his balls.
"Now-" she said, pausing one more moment to further appreciate Andy's relentless prodding. She could hear those delicate animal moans. She knew Andy's eyes were closed. She knew she'd better do something, or he'd loose his bullets down her target range too quickly. "What's your name?"
"Julio," said the boy.
"That's a beautiful name."
She took a moment to say to Andy, "Can you hold up the jackhammer bit a minute? We're leaving out Julio here."
"Unnnh," moaned Andy, and his ass, as if from automatic reflexes couldn't stop immediately but had to grind down slowly, and that felt especially good to Martha, the way his pleasing cock slipped all the way in, then most of the way out so slowly, then iiiiinnnnnnn, oooouuuuutttttt, iiinnnn, oouutt, in, out. Until he stopped, with his groin pressed hotly right up against her pussy so that his beauty was buried balls deep.
"Let's see," she said, as Julio stood so quietly just inches from her face. "How can I best alleviate this situation and allow you to join in the fun?"
"It was okay when you first came in the room," Julio said apologetically. "Man, I thought I was going to split it at the seams it got so hard then. But-" and he seemed to flush, "when Andy put his pecker in ... well, mine just sort of went limp."
"You don't like watching another man have intercourse?" Martha asked him like a mother.
"Well, I'm never sure I can compete."
Martha reached out and touched the smooth slope of his cock and ran her forefinger straight down its length to the skin-covered head. There was something about uncircumcised men that made them elegant, mysterious, even at Julio's young age.
Certainly there was a matter of competition. There was Andy with an enormous hard-on shoved up her pussy, and standing still the way he was, pressed so tightly into her, he hadn't lost one iota of his hard-on. He had the strength of youth, ready to perform champion bouts whenever she called 'Ready'. Yes, that was a kind of competition, but Julip had nothing to be ashamed of. He was very much a growing man. Very much.
"Here," Martha said. "Let me help you."
She wrapped her long, well-manicured fingers around the unblemished tube of Julio's sex and moved the skin between her two thumbs, spreading it from side to side, kneading it like fine sourdough, until he registered the slight stiffening. But not nearly enough. Hardly more than a jiggle.
There was a splendid network of fine red and blue veins forming a fan-like design over his penis skin. The foreskin was only slightly wrinkled around the delicious, moist opening of his tube. Martha moved her fingers daintily, like two feathers down either side of his cock, and life began to enter his cock. It began to grow a little.
"Good!" she praised him. "Good."
But it didn't come up far that time. There was only the hint of a very straight and determined arc.
She remembered how pleased Mr. Rimmer had been when she first accepted him into her mouth. He had never been eaten. Being eaten was his dream of sorts. Maybe it was a hidden key in Julio's life too. To have a woman love him that much. As a man to be that independent.
"Would you like for me to suck you?" Martha asked.
Julio flushed crimson. "I-I..'.."
"I'd like to suck your dick," she said. Without releasing his cock, she pulled him even nearer to her, so close that she was able to flick out her tongue and touched his cock with its quivering end. "Like that?"
"That's very nice," Julio said, smiling. "That's very nice."
"Can we get on with it?" Andy said. Except for the way he parted her body, and his exceptionally hot groin pressed against her, Martha almost had forgotten Andy had been stopped in the middle of a damned good fuck.
"I'll tell you what," Martha said to Julio, holding his cock like a mother or teacher might hold a child's hand. "I'm going to take all of your dick into my mouth and suck it as well as I can." She smiled up at the blooming man. "Okay?"
Julio nodded quickly.
"And when Andy starts pumping me again, you start pumping at this end." She winked. "See if you can't meet somewhere in the middle."
"But I'll hurt you," said Julio.
"Trust me," she said. He nodded.
Martha reached out for Julio's buttocks then and pulled him all the way up to her face. She kissed his cock, and felt the neat, almost calm reaction she got.
She unbuttoned the lower part of his shirt and ran her tongue into his navel and around in it for a moment.
"Please," said Andy, who had begun massaging Martha's side from sheer need to plow her. It felt good.
"Just a minute," said Martha. "When you see me put Julio's cock in my mouth, then you fuck. Okay?"
"If you say so," Andy said with some exasperation in his voice.
"I say so."
She moved her tongue now very, very slowly down through the fine black virginal wool just below Julio's navel and on into the thickest patch of his pubic hair.
And then she did delightful things to his heavy hairless scrotum with her fingers, cupping their weightiness in her hand and pressing them hotly up against his groin, so that he said, Ahhhhhhh. And her tongue moved down onto the tube of his manhood and embraced it, forcing a dynamic pleasure through the young man's system.
The cock was beginning to grow.
It was as if Martha could feel blood rushing down the underside passage of his tract filling him with new rigidity.
With two fingers she pressed back that delicate foreskin and gave freedom to the bloom of his peachy dome, and she planted a kiss on its very tip, allowing her lips to bloom out from there to encompass the whole of the head, and she felt the anxiety surging through his young system, and she sensed an immediacy to his needs, and she heard his young mouth say, "Oh my, oh my, oh my, oh my," continually, as her mouth moved on to encage the entire throbbing head now, her lips pulsating around the thick corona, where she allowed her tongue to move ... around and around and around ... as she savored the fragrant head cheese which was only flavorable around young men's cocks, for it was flavored with the essence of youth. It was delicious.
Andy took the initiative, as he was enthralled by the sight of Miss Gorman swallowing his friend's dick, and began a slower, more rhythmical prick push into her cunt.
She responded to Andy by moving her hips against him, and it was answer enough, for the muscles of her cunt seemed to seize his cock and pull it deeply into her, more deeply than he ever thought possible. And her mouth seized Julio's now hard length and offered it residence into the confined depths of her sucking mouth, and Julio knew the exquisite excitement of a nerve parade marching up and down his cock.
Andy would plunge his enormous cock to the depths, and the action of his plunge would shove Martha more deeply, more earnestly into Julio's thrust, which caused Julio's dynamic dick to sink beyond Martha's epiglotis. But Martha was experienced now. She could take it without difficulty.
I've had Tony, her mind recounted over the delicacy of her blow job to Julio.
I've had Mr. Rimmer, and for a principal he's a real master of the fuck.
I've had Edgar, the noble dog, with his stupendous stick.
I've had Mathias Row in ways I couldn't imagine. I've never dreamed of a man so big and with so much.
And now I have Andy up my ass and Julio juicing me!
I must remember to give them my address!
The boys had developed an excellent mutual fuck. They were moving together now. As Andy moved forward, so did Julio seem to move forward ... as they were indeed trying to meet in the middle!
And then she felt Andy's prick beginning to swell larger inside of her, and she could tell by the insistence of his thrusts and the quivering of his hands on her sides that he was very near release. Even Julio who had a later start was weakening to her suck.
They'd probably cum together. There must be a way to make it last longer, she thought. There simply must be.
And then it occurred to her.
Oh, it'll be wonderful! A new experience!
"Andy! Julio!" she said, pulling away from Julio's tense, jerking, throbbing, arcing, anxious, dripping, glittering cock which seemed to jump around before her, wanting to thrust itself back inside her.
"Oh, don't do this to me!" Julio growled. "FINISH!"
"Easy," Martha coaxed him. "Andy, take it out for a minute."
"What!" came the shocked, groaning answer.
"Take it out for a minute. I've got a splendid idea."
"You're out of your skull!"
And Andy seemed to fuck her all the harder.
"Don't! Please, don't waste it! Take it out!" Martha pleaded.
Reluctantly, very reluctantly, Andy obeyed and pulled the slimy length slowly from her body. Immediately her behind set up a fierce farting when the cock left the cave, for he had pumped a tremendous amount of air into her body. But it sounded like music in the small cloakroom.
"Watch," Martha said, straightening up for the first time in a long while. It was surprising how awkward she felt now. No wonder people get bad backs, she thought. I wonder if most lumbago comes from two-way fucking. She doubted it. She quickly gathered up about four or five coats which students had forgotten from time to time.
"Coats?" said Andy incredulously.
They seemed so forlorn standing there with their jeans down low on their thighs, and shirts partly unbuttoned, and the balls up close to their groins near ready for release, and their cocks long and arced and hard as rock candy. It gave Martha an excellent opportunity to compare sixteen-year-old studs, and they were surprisingly the same.
Maybe cock lengths flock together like birds of a color, she thought. No, that isn't probable. This is an accident. Andy is proud of his hang. Probably the only reason they were longtime friends was because of Julio's hangup about his own hang and the way he didn't feel it was up to Andy's criterion.
But it WAS!
I've proven that.
She frowned, I've killed a beautiful relationship between two beautiful boys-I mean MEN. But then, and she shrugged, men don't. really need beautiful relationships between each other when they can have such glorious, cum-happy relationships with me.
And Martha remembered all those delightfully bulging cocks in her classrooms she still had to sample. Some she'd suck. Some she'd belly up to. Some, like Mr. Rimmer's, she'd do both to. And there were others. ... Oh, yes, there were all those others that deserved the finest ... around the world all the way! Yum.
Martha arranged the coats into a plump cushion and pulled out the bench so she could put her hips on it. She put a couple more coats on the floor for her shoulders. And then she sat down on the cushion and leaned far back so that only her hips were high up on the bench, and her head and shoulders were comfortably nestled on the floor. She supported her back with her hands.
"Now," she called up to the two hard studs, "I've always wanted to take two at a time. Especially two mighty men like yourselves. Think you can manage it?"
"You solve the puzzle for us, and we'll do the rest," said Andy.
Before Martha could answer, Julio became the genius and his own man at the same time. "I know," he said, and he fairly beamed.
He went around to the side of the bench where Martha's head was. He carefully stepped over and straddled her body. Then it seemed he might sit down on her, but instead he leaned his ass far over her pussy, reached down and straightened his cock so that as he leaned forward his cock was aimed directly at her cunt.
Very carefully now he took aim, because Martha was really out of reach to help him and support herself too. He settled down to her lips, and Martha felt the mouth of her vulva part and the delicious head of Julio's proud rooster enter. He didn't stop, but settled down all the way, until his cock was almost totally buried from view. Then he leaned far forward and supported himself with his large hands on the floor on either side of Martha's very pleased face. She turned her head to the side and kissed his hand. She was grateful.
"Thank you," she said.
"My pleasure," said Julio, winking. He didn't begin to fuck, for he wanted to wait for Andy.
"Your turn now," Martha called up to the rigid Andy.
"If you say so," Andy said. "But it's going to be a mighty tight squeeze."
"Oh, I hope so!" said Martha.
Andy turned his back to Julio's and straddled Martha's legs on the other side of the bench. Like Julio had done, he bent his ass over Martha and tried to guide his enormous cock in behind Julio's. There wasn't much space to aim for, so he settled for pressing his cock against the root of Julio's and letting that guide him in. The vulva stretched enormously as his head forced its entry.
"Ohhhhhhh, my goooooddddd gooooodddd godddd!" Martha said. She was positive she was being ripped wide open.
THE COMBINED COCKS AS ANDY ENTERED HER MUST HAVE MEASURED FOUR INCHES AROUND. AND ANDY'S WANTED TO GO IN A DIFFERENT DIRECTION!
Andy went in much more slowly than Julio had, for the passage seemed much more narrow to accommodate his massiveness. His ass rubbed against Julio's to set up an added friction which was bound to bring about a faster orgasm, for their balls too touched, and a kind of mutual heat seared through their systems.
Then Andy leaned forward and supported himself on his hands.
"Ready?" asked Julio.
"Ready," said Andy.
"How about you, beautiful?" Julio asked down to Martha who blew him a kiss.
"Oh, I'm ready," she said, worried just a little about the new pain and the exquisite stretch of her cunt. It was much larger now than Mathias' cock had been, and she thought surely she'd never experience the likes of that. "Take it a bit easy at first, though."
"Easy does it," said Julio.
The boys began their fuck then. They tried to get it together, but their cogs just didn't seem to mesh, and their asses seemed to get in the way, and they were botching the whole masterful maneuver. Martha was enjoying it, though. Her poor nervous system was doing loop-the-loops. Her clitoris felt like it was set afire by friction, and almost from the first movement of their two cocks slip-sliding together, she experienced one orgasm after another. But the boys weren't pleased at all with the position.
"I've got it!" Julio said.
"Anything," said Andy.
"Can you get your legs up here over her? If you can, I can sit up more, hold onto your legs, and with that kind of connection we can pump together. No sweat."
It was awkward, but with some effort Andy got first his right leg, then his left out from one side of the bench and up into the air over the bench without breaking connection. It took strong arms to hold his body steady. Then Julio took Andy's left leg in his right bent arm and Andy's right leg in his left bent arm, holding him like a Chinese coolie might hold the handles of his rickshaw, and support was easier for both of them. It also gave them a strong base of operations. Andy discovered he had to make no movement at all. Julio was able to almost sit up and, though two inches of his cock was bent so acutely and therefore lost to the depths of Martha's cunt, he was able to bounce up and down cautiously and accomplish the movements for both of them.
"Ohhhhh," Martha moaned, as Julio increased his speed gradually.
"Ohhhhh, fuck me," she said again.
And it was working beautifully. She had accomplished the incredible. She HAD TWO MAN-SIZED COCKS IN HER CUNT AT THE SAME TIME. She gave them both her address.
"Ohhhhhhh C h h h r r r i iissst!! I'llll CCCUUUUMMMMM!" and she had another and another orgasm.
The boys ... well, boys will be boys, and they fucked her relentlessly like machines. Andy came first like a dynamo spinning off electrical volts into Martha's engine. But it failed to deplete his energy and he was able to hold out and join Julio in his own stupendous explosion.
And when Julio came, it was a virginal dam bursting, for he burst into tears suddenly and squalled, "I-I'MM CUUUUMMIINNGG!" and Martha felt the stored-up sensations since his puberty erupt into her gulley until the entire room filled with the slurping sounds of the two side by side, cum swamped cocks slipping in and out of her well-lubricated cunt.
Fantastic how much cocks swell inside a woman as they discharge their wildfire sperm against her walls, but Martha was gripping the coats beneath her, then clutching anxiously upward for Julio's body, then running her fingers through his pubic hair, forgetting for a moment the need to support her back, and it was the most delicious fuck she'd ever had.
And Andy ... Andy came twice and discovered how easy it was to do pushups when someone else did the pushing.
CHAPTER NINE
Tony's need for release was taking on vicious proportions. He had spent nearly seven hours since he fucked Miss Gorman with a constant hard-on waiting to be able to see her again at her house. All the way home the wildest visions kept pouring into his mind.
He still had the problem of deciding whom to take with him to her house. He sat down on the front porch of his orphanage and tried to sort through those whom he'd like to have along.
There was Tom. But he had a bad case of acne, and maybe Miss Gorman wouldn't appreciate that. There were Matthew and Joe. But they still haHn't reached puberty. They wouldn't do at all. He thought harder, trying to sort through the real studs of the orphanage, but so many of them withered in the competition. Most of them never had had a woman of course, and a-good many didn't have cocks of sufficient size to service Miss Gorman, because she was something special and deserved the best available.
He knew whom he should ask. He should ask his brother. But was that only inviting trouble? Julio was so timid. And his best friend Andy was always putting Julio down so. It wasn't fair. But he thought it out for a while. It was logical, keeping it in the family.
He chuckled as he dreamed about how it would be.
The duel of the dicks.
Ever since she had reached puberty, Bessie (Tony decided he'd practice on a stranger and work up to Martha) had dreamed of MAN ... her man, and lots of any man so long as he sported sufficient tubage to make the mating interesting. She certainly never expected to have two men dangling from the same string, and both of them anxious for matrimonial bliss.
"Why marry either?" Martha, Bessie's downstairs neighbor, said while she polished a nifty nail over coffee. "Be like me. I know I've got some twat, 'cause I can send 'em away begging for mercy. That's why I ask fifty bucks an hour and get it from guys who can't quite satisfy me, and sometimes I give it away free when there's the bonus of a wobbling whopper in it for me. Hell, Bessie, I'd chuck 'em both if I were you. I ain't walked the street in a couple years now, and my pimp-bless him-lines up four or five a night for me. I figure it this way. The years are gonna catch up to me sooner or later ... so, I'm enjoying the merry-making while I can. There's a time for marrying after I'm stretched all out of proportion and all. I'll find me some old super stud with a pole like for telephone wires and settle down then."
"That's an admirable ambition," said Bessie, moaning, "but I've already got two telephone poles fighting over me. There ain't a half-inch's difference between them."
"Then don't be fool enough to settle for just one!
"I can't ask one stud to marry up with a pair, especially when one of the pair has a set of nuts in his own right."
Martha beamed. "Don't mess up the set!" She stood up and straightened her ostrich trimmed see-through nightie, which was all she ever wore up for the coffee sessions, and Bessie noticed how pink and firm Martha's nipples were for a bitch. "Gotta run now. Gotta lay lined up for two. My asshole's up for grabs at one, and a short-timer and a blow job at twelve. Gotta hustle."
Bessie envied Martha's business acumen so. Martha had all of the material things she could want-Cadillac, color TV and stereo combo, clothes she never had a chance to wear with designs straight out of Women's Wear Daily, and lots of jewelry, the real McCoy. Martha wore baubles to watch wrestling matches on TV between her merrier bouts, because she looked mainly at the size of the wrestler's bunch. Some of them had pretty good bunches going for them. Once Martha had told Bessie, "You ever come up with some leftover peter you can't handle, ship it my way. I sure dote on dick!"
By the time Bessie had shit, shaved-her armpits and legs-and showered she had decided that just maybe bitchy Effie was right. Why not keep all the goodies. I got enough pussy to keep two studs interested. She admired her figure in the full-length mirror. It was something to be proud of with her ultra-slim waist, her curvy hips (she did a mean bump and grind, especially under the pounding ass of about two hundred pounds of masculinely wrapped musclepower), her strong legs (the better to hold a man in her with until she was damned good and ready to turn him loose), scrumptious tits (as good as any of those belonging to the Valley's Dolls), and lips that never tired of lipping.
She puckered her rosy lips. What a deliriously inviting purse for a man to drop a cock into, she thought.
She was a first-class cocksucker from the word go, and she adored the feel of hot spunk spewing into her throat. She liked nothing better than to have nine inches up her cunt and six inches in her mouth and six inches up her ass all at the same time, and all pumping to a good blast from some swinging 33 and a 1/3.
That had happened only once, in the dressing room off The Fandango when three young musicians all got the hot nuts at the same time and all the other girls had left for the night. Bessie had learned her lesson-to stay for the jam session more often. And all musicians weren't fags, she knew for sure. Remembering set her mind in motion, and what Martha had said took root like a stiff dick.
Maybe I can start off with just two and find a third to complete the set.
It had been a good thought, and Bessie had spent a wild half hour in the bathroom frigging herself with it, but the guys didn't bite. Each one wanted Bessie only for himself, damn it.
The one who had the half-inch on the other, Tony, said, "I'm willing to meet the competition in a tournament of cocks. You pick the better man of us. But I'm a one-cunt man, myself."
Adam, the shorter, who quickly became Julio in Tony's thoughts, because Adam signified the stronger, being the first man and all, and there was something pleasurable about besting your brother, had taken out his cock and waggled it at Bessie. "You want it ... you want it for yourself alone."
"Oh, I do want it!" Bessie groaned helplessly. "It's magnificent, Julio."
Tony said, "You've got a good weapon there, but the question is how well you can use it. Right?"
"You want it up the ass?" Julio snarled at Tony.
"Eat me!" Tony snarled back.
"No! Me!" screamed Bessie.
"I'll call your bluff," said Julio, stripping off his pants. He never wore shorts. He said they only got in the way of fast exits, and they were things he tended to forget when errant husbands were fast coming up the walk. It was safer not to wear them at all. The fishnet-tricot T-shirt he was wearing came off next, and Julio stood admirably bare and beautiful. "I call your challenge, Tony. A tournament of the cocks!"
"You're on!" Tony said.
"On ME!" squealed Bessie, clapping her hands.
She raced Tony to see who could undress faster. And it was just as she pulled the nightie over her head that Julio seized her first.
With the nightie over her head, she couldn't see at all, but, GOD, how she felt. Julio raged into her cunt with his shaft, plunging into her again and again, and Tony, not to be outdone, took advantage of her ass.
Before she could shout, 'Vaseline!', Tony had shoved his hard cock hilt deep into Bessie's bottom. He speared and Julio shoved, and both were moving in harmony to Bessie's dizzy delight.
"Oh, screw!" she bawled. Finally she pulled off the nightie and threw it across the room and began to ride the plunging cocks like a saddle.
"You've got a mean tool there," Tony admitted to Julio.
Their shafts till were buried into Bessie who, with her eyes closed, was smiling broadly and adoring every blissful moment of the fuck.
Both men came together!
"Wheee!" said Bessie, moving in and out of her first orgasm. "It's a tie!"
But even resting between thrusts the two brothers never lost their hard-ons. Bessie saw to that. If she felt Tony slipping, she pinched up her ass and massaged him back to rigorous life. If Julio became slack, she pinched up her pussy until he was vibrant again.
"More-" she murmured. "Oh, more."
The two men switched around.
Julio took to the rear, and Tony to the front.
Bessie was just limply still and accepting anything.
They said, One, Two, Three and in they went together again, deep, hard, BAM ... BAM!
For fifteen minutes the two studs hammered at Bessie, accompanied by her sighs and moans and pleas for MORE AND MORE AND MORE.
When at long last both men came again, it seemed they both would call it quits.
"Oh, don't stop now!" Bessie pleaded. "You're still all tied up."
"I'd need a splint," Julio confessed.
Tony wanted so much to claim victory, but he admitted, "Make it two."
"Well, do something!" she said.
"Hey!" said Julio, who always was the smarter. "I've got these three blasted artificial dildoes in the car trunk. I can use them on her ass, and you-well, man, you use your fist up her cunt!"
"You're kidding!" said Tony. "Can you take that, Bessie?"
"Try me!" she groaned, as the two men pulled their dicks out completely, and she felt the delicious shivers pass through her body as their cocks slipped from their prisons.
"Oh, my, what a come down," she said, farting delightfully happy. "Hurry, Julio, and get the cocks!"
They were conversation pieces only, never meant for real human use. One of the dildos was heavy latex, three inches thick, heavily veined, and about eight inches long.
"My God, but that's beautiful," said Bessie.
"That's nothing," Julio said proudly. "Look at this one!"
The second was heavy, rubber and nearly four inches thick and at least ten inches long. It even had a tickler on the end.
"Blast off!" screamed Bessie, unable to keep still with anticipation.
The fact that the rules of the tournament had been changed by Tony's nubile mind in his daydream so that there couldn't possibly be a victor in the cock tournament any more didn't matter to the make-believe combatants. And in reality Tony was succeeding very well in subduing his urge to jack off.
"And this for a finale," Julio boasted, displaying the monster cock of all monster cocks which was reminiscent of what the Tashians once had used. It too was thick-veined rubber with added bumps and ticklers its entire length. It was ... the damned thing was five inches thick and THIRTEEN inches long.
Tony gasped. "You can't use that tingler on Bessie, Julio. You'll split her open."
"Can't we leave that up to Bessie?"
"Watch me take it!" Bessie said, clapping her hands and wiggling her ass.
Bessie took her position between the two men. She made her body as relaxed as possible. She had to be able to GIVE!
"You first," said Tony, and Julio took on the first of the artificial dildoes, strapping it into place around his buttocks. The rubber cock had a place inside for Julio's own real-life cock to rest. He also strapped the dildo between his legs. It took on terrible proportions and promised a lot more to come.
"Just relax into it," Julio said. "You took me up the ass, Old Lay, and I'm two and a half across. You gotta stretch one more half inch."
He greased the shaft to the hilt, added a heavy daub to the wicked tip, placed it at her budding asshole and pressed forward slowly.
To keep from yelling and disturbing the neighbors, because Martha was bound to be giving it to somebody too, Steve kissed her hard, and he felt her groans and moans coming into his mouth.
"It's IN!" boasted Julio. Bessie's eyes were wide with delightful pain and anticipation as Tony released her mouth. "Your turn, Tony."
Tony greased his hand and arm.
"You stand still now, Bess," he warned her. "I'll take it easy, 'cause I got a ham for a hand."
He straightened his fingers and pressed them closely together, found Bessie's hungry slit and entered it slowly. She said Unnnnnnnhhhhh continually as he made it in to the wrist, but he still was flat-handed.
"More?" he asked her.
"Oh, more," she said, sighing fitfully with Julio's hunk of rubber up her ass and waiting. "Half way up the arm," Tony said, watching his forearm disappear into his broad. "Can I double my fist now?"
"Oh, DO it!"
Tony doubled up his fist, and Bessie squalled with glee. "OH, FUCK ME! FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!" she was shouting. She was sure to disturb Martha.
The men began their grinds. Julio humped her hard, and Tony shoved his balled-up fist in and out, and Bessie, damned near the state of swooning, was all atitter for the next ten minutes. When Julio felt her muscles loosening enough he pulled the monster cock out, and Steve did likewise with his pussy moistened arm.
"You're ready for a promotion," said Julio.
He produced the second dildo and gave it to her ass with much less effect and effort than he had expected. And Tony was able to put in his fist doubled-up first try. She lasted fifteen minutes that time before Julio thought the muscles were lax and spongy enough for the piece de resistance.
"Want to rest some, Bessie, before the accomplishment of the century?"
"Not a chance," said Bessie. "I've taken ten inches of rubber bologna so far; don't stop now."
"I can't compete with that thing," said Tony. "Even my fist ain't better'n that."
"Tell you what," said Julio, the man with the ideas. "She's gonna scream a lot over this one. How about your fucking Bessie in the mouth so's she can't yell so much when I put it in. She's bound to rip some."
Of course both of them were thinking she was bound to rip a lot.
"You still game, Bessie?" Tony asked politely.
"Yum!"
Tony offered up his cock (the real thing) to her and she went through all of the preliminaries to a delightful blow job while Julio greased up the five-by-thirteen ramrod and put it in place in his strap and at her asshole. That delightful ass was red and raw and soft and spongy from the previous assaults, but Julio still wondered if Bessie could possibly take it.
"Ready?" Julio asked.
"Ready," said Bessie, kissing Tony's dick with affection.
"Shove it to her, Julio," so, as Julio pushed the log-like member up Bessie's ass, Tony pushed his big dick up into Bessie's throat.
Later both men had to admit it was the most exquisite twenty minutes of bone-crunching fucking they ever had experienced. The sounds of Bessie's asshole literally crumbling, and the crunch of her parting bones and broken jaw were rich against the lusty groans and cadences of the men in their attack.
"Going to miss Bessie," Tony said to Julio at her Monday morning blue funeral.
"A good lay," Julio agreed. "Good for anything."
When the first clouds of dirt struck the coffin as the grave diggers got their job over quickly, Martha came around the hole.
"You know," she said, "I never saw such a smile on Bessie's face when they closed that lid. It ain't really as if I'm swiping anything from her, but would you two heavy-assed bastards be interested in a real gone pussy match?"
"Oh?" said both men together.
"Don't think for a minute I didn't hear the wrestling match going on upstairs the other night. Shit, my lay simply couldn't screw at all, you were setting up so much competition. Really."
"I guess it took two of us to win the tournament then," said Tony. "At least we put down someone."
"It's a deal," said Julio to Martha.
"Name your poison," said Tony.
"A BIG DICK," she said, licking her lips slowly, moistening them, then smacking her lips delightfully. "A BIG GIG OF A DICK!"
"Right on!" said Julio.
And Tony said, "Right on, Martha. Right on."
CHAPTER TEN
Martha Gorman had given out a lot of addresses.
She had given them to Tony, and she even had invited him to bring the other boys, to Mr. Rimmer, to Mathias and to Edgar, and to the last delightful lays who had proved that she had a two-for-one sized pussy, Andy and Julio. And yet, it was after dinner time and she was alone. Who would have believed it?
She had eaten a thin steak with some asparagus on the side and a daub of Welsh rarebit. It was good, but her body had become accustomed to being mounted during the day. She had deprived herself from fucking all those years, except for the man in the agriculture building who had burst her bush the first time. Now, she had discovered the joys of teaching school. Now she wanted all the cock she could get. Now she wanted six or seven inches in her all the time.
She had no choice in her lonely rooms but to revert back to the pleasure she had afforded herself all those lonely months. A vibrator.
Some years before, when she first entered the celebate state of single teaching, she had purchased a vibrator to do the job. It was an effective substitute.
Brown.
Seven inches.
One and a half inches thick.
Rounded like a cock at one end.
Ran on the power of only two C-batteries.
And it was a delicious thing to take on trips.
She could grease it up, insert it into her pussy or ass then sit around the pad or wherever and let it do its thing.
But she missed the touch of gentle hands.
Now she knew the feel of stiff cock.
She had had one ten inches long.
She had had the giant's dog.
She had blown principals.
She had sucked cock.
She had had two-Together.
She had been thinking all of that, and scribbling it down on the telephone scratch pad, but she noticed when she looked at her scribbling it looked like the head of an arrow, and arrows were meant to be inserted, SHOT into things ... like cum. And she had pleasant thoughts of CUM shooting up into her cunt and up into her ass until the very thought of a lonely evening after a day of all-day fucking was unbearable.
So Martha Gorman went into the bedroom, took off all her clothes, rubbed a little Vaseline on the long brown vibrator, lay back on the silken soft bed and parted her legs.
She inserted those hard seven inches up into her cunt, and it wasn't at all the same, say, as Mathias' giant-size cock. It wasn't the same as Edgar's rapid action technique or his lapping tongue. But she had just got the last half inch of the trembling vibrator buried in the last folds of her cunt WHEN THE DOORBELL RANG!
THE DOORBELL RANG!
THE DOORBELL RANG!
She forgot about the vibrator. It felt too damned good to take out in case she was disappointed. So she went to the door after putting on a thin robe with the vibrator doing its good thing inside her.
"Hi!" said Mathias towering over the threshold and holding a muzzled and leashed Edgar by his side.
"Oh, hi there!" Martha beamed.
"I hoped it would be okay to come so soon," he said, and Martha thought of every bumbling country bumpkin she'd ever seen. Edgar just sat down on his haunches with his big furry cock showing moistly, just a bit of the pink sharp rod penetrating the fur as if to tease Martha with all that she knew that fur hid, and he licked his muzzle.
"Oh, it's fine, fine!" she said.
"Won't he mind?"
"As long as he gets his share, I don't think so," Martha said.
And Mr. Rimmer had no more than closed his car door, when a whole mess of kids showed up in the guts of three old cars. There must have been. Yes, there were ... SIXTEEN OF THEM! And Tony, Andy and Julio led the pack.
"Oh, my. Oh, Jeez," Martha moaned. "How will I ever work this?"
"You'll figure a way," Mathias said. He winked. "You'll figure a way." And Martha did.
She lined them up around the room. Her favorites first of course. She had no idea that Julio was Tony's brother. Did that make it incest to mix cum in the same cunt? Naw!
So she made up her mind for the first wave.
Mathias in her cunt FOR AS LONG AS THAT GIANT COULD LAST.
Tony up her ass, 'cause he kept his word.
She'd save Edgar for last, when all the human cock pooped out.
Mr. Rimmer was tapped for a blow job, because Mr. Rimmer so dearly liked to be eaten.
She took Julio in her right hand; she took Andy in her left, and they made exquisite handfuls.
They all lined up, the others, all the orphans and a few strangers who liked to follow parades ... to wait their turns. Michelangelo would have been proud of the statues standing in the Gorman pad.
But the strangest thing happened.
Just as Tony pushed into Martha's ass, he was thinking, All we need now is that Tashian priest with his gang....
