It was when Bill Stewart slipped him a ten-dollar bill after the brief wedding ceremony that the aging Jacksonville justice of the peace took him by the elbow and casually led him a few steps away from his new bride Marilyn.
"Where are you and the missus intending to go on your honeymoon, young fellow?" the old man asked, glancing lecherously at Bill's firm-titted young bride.
Bill didn't think that was any of the man's business, and he considered telling him so. But he decided it was just possible the JP wasn't being really nosy, but only friendly, if a little thoughtless in the way he expressed his friendliness. Anyway, Bill felt so pleased over being newly married that he had no stomach for what might be taken as crabbiness on his part.
"We plan to spend a week or so driving through the South is all, maybe visit New Orleans... and Washington, D.C."
"That right? You ain't got a whole lot of money then, have you, son?"
"Well now, why do you want to ask a question like that?"
"Hey, son, don't take me wrong; I don't mean no offense. It's just, well, most of the young couples as has me to marry 'em ain't what you'd call rightly fixed. Know what I mean? 'Cause if they was, you know, the little ladies most likely be on their men's backs for a church wedding and everything; they mostly like to get sent off with a bang. You two elope, did you?"
"Uh-huh."
"Yeah, you are kind of young. But what I had to say is that you could treat the missus and yourself to something a little more special than just a trip through the South if you was a mind to."
"Yeah? What? Special stuff costs money."
"They do usually, sure enough, but there's an exception to every rule. Tell me, you got two hundred, don't you?"
Bill nodded. "That's just about what I do have. What you want to know for?"
"I got a brother-in-law name of Cap'n Tony Janeway, and he's just starting this new service, you see. What it is, he's got this small yacht-calls it the Wanderlust-and he's got this arrangement worked out where he's going to be taking newly married couples from Jacksonville to this small resort on Sugarloaf Key."
"That right?"
"Going to be takin 'em regular during the winter; that's the way he's got it figured. Anyway, the first cruise down leaves this evening right about sunset, and for only two hundred dollars you get the cruise down, and you get five days and nights at the resort, and you get the cruise back. Just two hundred dollars for everything, 'count of it's an Introductory special."
"That a fact?"
"Sure enough is. You and the missus would have you a real good time, I'm sure. Cap'n Tony tells me he and my sister got everything fixed up nice as could be... going to have entertainment and everything. That two hundred dollars includes your meals and everything, even the drinks up to a certain limit."
"It's not nothing shoddy... like one of these grafts they talk about, is it?"
"No, no, nothing like that, son, believe me. It's going to be real nice. You and the missus will have a lot more fun than you would just driving through the South."
"Well, I'd have to talk it over with Marilyn for a minute."
"Sure, you do that. And if you two decide sensible like I think you will, I'll call Cap'n Tony ahead of time to have a cabin on the yacht all ready for you."
Smiling a little shyly at the look of anticipation on the face of her husband of less than two hours, Marilyn Stewart kicked off her shoes and padded across the plushly carpeted floor of the starboard-side cabin. She watched Bill move nervously toward the porthole to watch the sun sink over the thick finger of Florida; then she hurried into the combination bathroom-dressing room and softly closed the door behind her.
Marilyn was a delicate-featured, big-blue-eyed "child" bride of seventeen-her husband was himself only nineteen-with long, flowing honey-blonde hair that tumbled over her shoulders to strain after the solidly packed, bulgy little cupcake mounds of her titties. Her figure was diminutive, but uncommonly attractive in the graceful, girlishly sensual balance of its gentle curves and sweeping hollows, flaring beyond her tiny waist into quite respectable hips. And her firm, melony ass with its saucy twin thrusts rarely failed to garner lingering second glances from roving male eyes.
For all her youthful ripeness and loveliness, Marilyn was still a virgin. And she derived quite an inordinate degree of self-satisfaction from that fact, for she knew what struggles, both physical and emotional, that she had gone through to keep her cherry intact. No, it had not been easy-not for her, and not for Bill, either-but she had kept up her resistance, and her will had prevailed; she was as "white" as her wedding gown.
In moments, her body reminded her that the first thing she had better get done in the privacy of the bathroom-dressing room was relieve the pressure in her bladder, which had been increasing steadily since she had said "I do."
Down to her snug white underpanties at last, she rolled that final garment off her underbody as she stepped around a low, rough-brick planter-partition to the toilet.
Leaning forward and down, her torso hard over her lap on the toilet seat, she grunted and panted with that curiously erotic pleasure of urinating with abandon. Straining to squeeze in her stomach, she buzzed furiously into the toilet bowl, spraying a powerful geyser down from her expanding urethra.
"Ahhh," she sighed.
And even as she was sighing, her mind tripped back over the times she had struggled to save her hymen from Bill's rutting advances.
She recalled in particular the most recent such struggle, which had been fought scarcely a Week before. She and Bill had spent the evening at her home, her parents having gone out to a drive-in, and poor Bill had become so inflamed by her charms that she could hardly hold out against his lecherous behavior.
She giggled now, thinking about it.
They had spent quite a while relaxing on the sofa, watching TV, listening to records, talking under romantically dim light about nothing of very great importance, just quietly enjoying each other's companionship. Then she made what turned out to be a strategic error of the first rank, considering her feeling about the propriety of her remaining a virgin until after they married.
Wanting only to please Bill in some vague way-but decidedly without any intention of baiting him into going almost all out to fuck her that very night-she excused herself to change into something more comfortable, which in a few minutes was revealed to be a pair of flaming-red silk lounging pajamas, with no underwear dampening the feeling of freedom that the two sheer items of clothing allowed her to luxuriate in.
Marilyn had returned from her bedroom and was half reclining and snuggling playfully against Bill for only a short time before Bill's actions almost got out of hand. She'd scarcely had time to gauge the severity of the reaction her ill-considered change of clothing had provoked in Bill, before he had her diminutive form tightly enfolded in his arms, with his lips wandering all over her face and his hands stealing down her torso to dig far into her crotch.
Bill's fingers were massaging the tight-lipped flesh of her cunt before she finally managed to find the words to squeal, "Hey! What are you doing? You're not supposed to mess with me there, Bill-ooh, no, not 'til we're married!"
"Marilyn, I want you! Please let me! Just look at the shape I'm in!"
"No! I won't look! I'm ashamed of you, Bill! Now, stop this instant!" Marilyn was Squirming vainly to get away from Bill's fingers. "This isn't right! Please let me go!"
"Darling, you're getting so wet! You want it too! You know you do!"
Marilyn was experiencing sensations she had been familiar with, but only by the questing of her own fingers. Never before had Bill dared to go so far!
If he had kept at her with those devilishly talented fingers of his- "Mmm," she'd moaned, beginning to pump her hips in response to the quickening pace of his frigging.
"You see?" Bill had husked. "You want it bad, darling. Don't you know that the sensible thing for you to do is give up fighting me and just lie back and enjoy it?"
"You shouldn't be doing this!" had been Marilyn's frantic reply. "It's wicked and nasty and-ah, that's good... "
Those fingers of Bill's had almost persuaded Marilyn to let him have his way with her, but her code of morality, along with her hymen, were kept intact by the sound of her parents' car pulling into the driveway.
Bill had had no choice: he gave up the struggle he had come so close to winning.
CHAPTER TWO
Marilyn giggled again, still squatted on the toilet, her anticipation growing to be as strong as what Bill was feeling back in the cabin's bedroom.
Having relieved herself, she wrapped several sheets of tissue around her fingers and wiped herself with such vigor that her clitoris began to peep out from under its succulent, fleshy hood.
Lightly perfumed in all the strategic places, with her hair freshly brushed to a sparkling sheen and her cheeks dusted with just a hint of seductively scented powder, and wearing a diaphanous blue baby-doll nightie and nothing else, Marilyn at last rejoined Bill in the bedroom, whose lights he had already turned down, thoughtfully, to ease the way of her once-in-a-lifetime first-night journey across to him.
Bill was sitting nervously on the edge of the bed. He'd been so preoccupied by his thoughts he had neglected to take off his clothes, but his first sight of Marilyn crossing toward him made him wish he had done so. He felt a strong urge to fuck her without delay as soon as she came within grabbing distance.
Bill would have been quite shocked if he could have read Marilyn's mind. Virgin she was, but she was still an uncommonly hot young thing. She did feel some natural trepidation turning her stomach into a cage of butterflies, but her fear of the pain of having her cherry broken was easily overmatched by the wellings of a thoroughly sensual nature, which she'd largely kept under control until this night.
Far from considering the short walk to the bed burdensome, as Bill was sure she must, Marilyn felt decidedly light on her feet, a cloud of sinews and tensely primed nerve ends wrapped in translucent, shimmering blue light, as she drifted almost dreamily in Bill's direction.
Then she felt herself really buoyed up, for Bill caught at her under her arms, and proceeded to swing her up over the bed to lay her gently on her back.
Sprawled out there almost childishly contented, she had to shut her eyes for some moments, letting the feeling of a peaceful and utterly pleasant dreamlike state grow and saturate her being. Only the fluttering of her stomach muscles made her sure she wasn't actually dreaming.
She sighed languidly and let her thighs sag farther apart.
"You're so lovely," Bill murmured, sitting back down and leaning over her. "You look like an angel."
Bill's tender words made Marilyn grow more acutely aware of the fluttering low in her stomach.
She could tell from the slight breeze stirred up in the cabin by the air-conditioning unit, and playing over her skin, that her nightie had blown up high on her abdomen, revealing her cute belly button, and her loosely clinging bikini underpanties.
She didn't have to look at Bill to realize his eyes were burning through the wispy triangle of the front of her panties to probe between the tight, pudgy lips of her cunt. And her certainty made her itch there-a wholly nice kind of itch-and grow moist.
Bill could no longer satisfy his hunger for her with his eyes alone. He needed to play his palms over her youthful curves, to knead her flesh in his swirling, clutching hands. Supporting the weight of his upper torso with one outstretched arm, fisted hand drilling into the mattress, he slipped his free hand onto the taut skin just above one of her knees.
At first, his fingers moved only tentatively, not daring to travel with the sweeping free movements of the beginning of true love play, as if he were unconsciously assuming that by the mere act of touching her naked skin he was in some way violating her. Only after slowly acclimatizing his fingers to her flesh did he come to appreciate that he had a right to have his way with Marilyn's body, that it was right for him to do to her all that his lust was prodding him to do. His hand at last snaked up between her thighs, pinching and pressuring the delicate skin along the way.
Marilyn sighed deep and hard, a sigh that threatened to turn into a groan, for Bill's fingertips were finally at the crotch of her underpants, burrowing between the lips of her pussy through the sheer material.
Bill withdrew his fingers, then caught at her moist flesh, firmly pinching the fat little lips together and dragging the tip of his middle finger up and down the ridge of the sealed split.
And then he was easing her pants off her underbody, his fingers caught under the waistband directly below the dimple of her belly button, and she was helping him by elevating her midsection, supporting her weight at her shoulders and the heels of her feet.
He tossed the panties beyond the foot of the bed; then he moved up to caress her sensually full, sweet lips with his.
Even through the rather heavy material of his pants, Marilyn could feel his cock stirring impatiently against the pale skin of her inner thighs.
She experienced a strong new welling of desire herself, and she thrust her tongue far up between his lips. Straining with her own lips against his, she extended the wet sting of her tongue to the back of his throat and licked and teased the sensitive skin without mercy.
Bill somehow managed to raise his torso out of the way without ending the kiss. He parted the flaps of her nightie to lay bare the swollen mounds of her breasts.
While Marilyn continued to lick throughout the damp, hot cavern of his mouth, he eased his weight onto one forearm running along her side, then moved his hand up to clasp a spongy little tit, with its throbbing nipple. He commenced kneading the hot flesh, working the handful of passionately responsive titty this way and that.
All of a sudden he grasped the distended nipple between thumb and index finger, pinching the rubbery bit of flesh quite harshly, provoking it to grow larger, harder, more achingly excited.
Only after he had squeezed and twisted the nipple up to a state of overwhelming arousal did he move his hand down her abdomen, his fingers darting suddenly to her cunt.
He curled the tips of his fingers into her slit, dragging his nails along the tender lips. Deftly parting the red lips, he eased his middle finger in to search out the mouth of her vagina.
"Unnh!" Marilyn whined.
He was pushing the tip of his middle finger against her hymen, which began to tear at several weak points about the ring of its joining with the lining of her passage.
Marilyn commenced panting with desire when Bill turned his hand and moved his thumb up to frig the tip of her strongly jutting clitoris, and he kept up his harsh probing at her cherry membrane even as he frigged away at the aching sprout that was so alive with lust-primed nerve ends.
Marilyn splayed her legs farther, then farther still, until the skin of her inner thighs seemed to burn with tension, so tautly stretched was it over her quivering flesh.
She let out a brief, sharp yelp that signified a leap in the level of her hunger to be fucked, and she tipped her body slightly in Bill's direction, then stole her hand to his crotch. Searching at his fly, she found the tab of his zipper and yanked it down, and the catch at the front of his pants came undone on its own, allowing his cock and his heavy balls to surge out and down into her hand.
"Ooh," she groaned, shivering with lust as she retracted his cock from his overburdened briefs. Bill decided it was time for him to get out of his clothes, which continued to restrain his thick, throbbing cock. He had to fight off Marilyn's hands from the hard shaft. But before long, his clothes were scattered on the floor at the side of the bed, whereupon he took his place once more beside his horny young bride.
Marilyn couldn't control her hand, which shot straight back to take hold of Bill's cock, her fingers this time tightly encircling the head of the erection. She commenced peeling and unpeeling the wrinkled folds of his foreskin, her eyes burning into his cock.
Bill wasn't idle as he was being frigged. His fingers stroked through her vulva, and his thumb tormented her clitoris with redoubled vigor.
Presently he sighed from deep in his throat, a sound that was almost a whine. A new, far more potent level of desire had been achieved by him, and he had to throw his body onto Marilyn's, an action that forced her to let go of his blood-filled cock.
"I love you," he murmured, his lips almost touching hers.
He felt his glans burrowing between the lips of her pussy, and only an almost inhumanly determined effort of will enabled him to groan, "No. Not yet." His eyes held hers and moistened, strong was his desire, and he added, "There's something I want to do first."
"Please, Bill," Marilyn said, her eyes begging.
But Bill refused to be swayed from his determination.
Snakelike, he moved his body down hers, stopping only when his face was above her groin. He pushed his fists into the mattress and elevated his torso, soon achieving a nearly erect posture from the waist up. He drew his legs, folded, under himself.
His eyes widened and took on a glazed look as they ravaged the inner flesh of Marilyn's cunt, and he murmured, "Oh, Marilyn, can you imagine how good it looks to me after all this time?"
"Yes," Marilyn said in a tone of sympathy, then blushed upon realizing the immodesty of her reply.
"You couldn't, Marilyn. I know you couldn't."
"I know how much it wants you, Bill," Marilyn rasped in return.
Bill moved his hands to the insides of her legs; then he wedged his fingers under her thighs and forced her thighs up and arced them back until they were aligned vertically, with her feet against the mattress and her heels against the rubbery cheeks of her ass.
Her cunt was grossly exposed, for Bill's hands, on her knees now, were keeping her thighs wide apart.
"Oh, Bill," she groaned, her voice almost catching in her throat, "what are you going to do?"
"It's the most beautiful thing there is, Marilyn, it's got to be."
"You're not going to-"
"Yes." Bill lifted his head for a moment to look at her face, her eyes. "You don't mind, do you?"
"Oh, it's so nasty." But Marilyn didn't mind; she knew that for sure.
Bill's eyes returned to her inflamed cunt, and Marilyn followed the slow, desire-drunken movements of his hands, which he slipped down to the slitted juncture that held his eyes rapt with awe. His thumbs moved unerringly into the puffy wound and pressed against the inner sides of the lips, spreading them farther and farther apart.
"You make me feel so naked down there," Marilyn husked.
Supporting her head against her hands, which were fisted and pressed together at the knuckles, she peered past her breasts to her stretched-open cunt, and Bill's thumbs jammed into her.
She felt Bill's humid breath violating the maw of her pussy as he tipped his head down close, his lips only inches from those held wide apart by his thumbs, and she commenced grunting and panting, moaned and moaned, growing more intensely stimulated.
"Ooh, look how swollen and stiff it is!" Bill murmured, speeding his frigging action.
"Not so much!" Marilyn rasped, jerking her hips this way and that.
Her clitoris was throbbing like a small heart, and it was protruding farther and farther from the top of her slit.
"Oh, I'm losing my mind, Bill!" she yelped. "Golly, it feels like my tummy and everything is going to explode!"
Thick flows of juices gushed from her cunt, slopping against her inner thighs, then spilling over her puckery asshole and under the tense mounds of her bottom.
Her middle shot up violently, and she chewed on her lower lip to keep from screaming due to sheer rapture, as the lips of her cunt pursed with fierce vigor around her clitoris.
"It's so beautiful, Marilyn," Bill groaned, and started his head moving again, his lips going for her nectar.
His mouth at last made contact with the spongy lips that framed the maw of her cunt.
"Ooh," Marilyn moaned, feeling the rough surface of his tongue lashing against her tender, glistening tissues and membranes.
She raised her head to watch his slobbering tongue.
Bill dragged his tongue up to her agonizingly erect clitoris, which strained fiercely outward.
Marilyn's moans grew louder and harsher, and her body tossed and writhed fretfully on the bed. The whiplash of ecstasy that had possession of her was almost more than she could stand. Her slit was insatiable in its pursuit of the most profound fleshly joy, and it was ruthless in its acute sensitizing of her nerves.
Grunting salaciously, Bill pressed his mouth down about her clitoris. He pursed his lips, then bit in cruelly at the thick root of the gristly sprout. Chewing with a kind of lazy, nursing pleasure, he commenced rasping his tongue over every bit of the bruised, raw surface of the aching bud.
Keeping his mouth pressed against her succulent flesh, he elevated his chest to facilitate his wedging his hands under her thighs. After quickly lifting her thighs and forcing them in a sweeping arc back and down hard over her torso, he husked in an almost unintelligibly thick, heavy voice, "Take hold here, behind your knees."
Marilyn moved unhesitatingly to obey.
Bill's mouth continued to make the same gross sounds against her pussy as he trailed his palms heavily down the backs of her thighs and began feeling the small, firm mounds of her buttocks.
Marilyn's cheeks twitched by way of welcome under his crude ministrations, and they grew even more welcoming when Bill proceeded to drag his tongue up over her perineum, then slither its tip into the shadowy valley of her ass. Marilyn gasped at the feel of his tongue exploring the texture of her highly sensitive anus.
"Oh, that's so nasty, what you're doing," she groaned.
Quickly finished with its preliminary scouting, Bill's tongue stiffened and its tip went for the heart of Marilyn's tiny anal ring. The tip breached the outer defense of her rectum with little difficulty, and its main body immediately began penetrating her clasping back passage, burrowing relentlessly into her at a steady, measured pace.
Bill thrilled to the feel of her asshole throttling his tongue, and his heavy cock grew harder and gave a twitch as he imagined himself really fucking her in the ass.
He began pistoning away at quite a respectable speed with his tongue.
"Ah," Marilyn groaned, matching his tongue-pumping with strong, involuntary jerks and thrusts.
Bill's fingers sought out the puffy, fleshy folds of her pussy.
"Ooh, it's good," Marilyn sighed, her eyes glazed over with lust. "If you keep on much longer, darling, I think I'm going to faint."
Bill left off screwing his tongue up her ass, and soon he was hunched full over her and his huge, rough hands were giving her breasts an almost savagely harsh massage. He pinched her nipples so brutally they swelled boldly into achy erection, and still his hands worked away at her congested mounds. He stimulated her with such abandon that she couldn't keep from panting, frantically deep in heat, with saliva flowing thickly from the corners of her mouth.
At last Bill released her breasts from the torment of his hands, but only to send his lips swooping down to engulf one of the bloated nipples that capped the adorable mounds.
"Golly, Bill, you're going to drive me crazy!" Marilyn squealed, thrusting her hips up under him, her cunt searching for the hard, meaty length of his cock.
"Oh, honey," Bill groaned, slopping spit all over her nipple.
He felt the pudgy folds of her cunt capturing the massive, throbbing glans of his cock, and he found the urge to fuck deep into her almost irresistible.
"I'm going to have to give it to you now, Marilyn. If I put it off one bit longer... "
"Do it!" Marilyn cried. "And hurry! You don't know how bad I need it!"
She felt him beginning to exert pressure, and she strained upward, forcing the inner flesh of her slit against his knob.
She felt her hymen stretching, and she yelped, "Give it to me like mad, darling! I'll die if I don't get it right away!"
Bill plowed his erection deep into her tight, cringing vagina, obliterating the fragile membrane of her virginity with savage abruptness. His swollen testicles slammed against her anus so vigorously they bruised the slick, wrinkled skin, and he gave out a thundering whoop of ecstasy.
Marilyn felt blood welling from the tatters of her hymen, and a scream of pain ripped out of her throat like a saw-toothed tongue of fire.
"Ooh, it stings so bad!" she moaned, writhing under Bill.
Bill thrilled at the feel of her virgin blood flowing around his deeply thrust cock. Emitting a shuddery groan of rapture, he commenced a slow withdrawal, glorying in the sensation of her throttling tissues oozing along the length of his flesh and seeming to suck on the shaft as they pursued it with slippery, sensuous bunchings.
"It hurts terribly!" Marilyn howled. "But it's driving me out of my head, Bill! It's fantastic!"
Bill speeded the actions of his ramrod cock, sawing the lengthy column into her pitifully small passage at an accelerating pace.
Marilyn shivered with lust under his driving body, and she thrust her pussy up about his bone with ravenous hunger, ferocious in her determination to share in the sweet labor of the thoroughgoing bout of fucking.
An awesomely potent focus of fleshly joy seemed to be swelling and hardening in the pit of her gut as her sizzling passage rode and rode the torturing length of Bill's erection. The deep-set knot of ecstatic turmoil pulsed even more violently, radiating jolting waves of pleasure throughout her midsection, and she wanted to scream and scream the wonder of the unearthly sensations blessing her flesh with their fury.
Bill's cock dragged roughly along the ragged flanges of her cunt as he fucked her. The furiously penetrating shaft seemed to gain yet more length with each succeeding thrust, so that presently Bill imagined he was jabbing the organ's immense glans far up into her innards. Her vagina was so well lubricated that his shaft seemed to be violating a tube of hot, thin grease, going deeper into the tube, deeper, deeper.
"I can't take much more!" Marilyn gasped, enraptured by the sensation of her pussy convulsing on the edge of orgasm about Bill's punishing erection.
Raking grunts of ecstasy tore up out of her throat, and the juices in her sheath replied to the hoarse sounds with gross, squishy noises of the most deeply intimate communion.
"Honey, you're not alone!" Bill bellowed, teetering on the edge of madness and unimaginable joy.
He rammed in so hard his glans almost bashed through Marilyn's small, rubbery cervix, and his urethra dilated to a painful extent.
Then he was pumping copious blasts of his seed into her, one after another, on and on, almost in time with the slapping of the ocean against the sides of the yacht as it cruised steadily onward through the night.
Marilyn's hips swept her midsection high off the mattress, and she shouted, "Oh, screw me, darling! Keep screwing me! It's wonderful!"
Her head slammed from side to side, and she squeezed her eyes shut out of fear that they would pop out from the sheer, breathtaking wonder of what she was experiencing.
After shuddering and spasming unrestrainedly for long, long moments, Marilyn's genitals writhed from the neck of her womb to the raw, inflamed lips of her cunt about the hosing length of Bill's cock.
Her eyes glowed up at Bill's, and she shared with him her certainty that their honeymoon would be a time of magic, of endless wonder and joy.
CHAPTER THREE
The Wanderlust was cruising through the calm waters some miles north of Palm Beach late the next morning when Bill stirred and slowly opened his eyes.
He wondered what was causing the dull, pleasant ache in his loins as he stretched and yawned to help bring his body fully awake. It almost felt as if there were a small hand wrapped tightly around his cock and gently, possessively milking at the length of flesh, but he knew he was only imagining- The hell I am! he thought, suddenly throwing the covers to the foot of the bed as his mind cleared of the cobwebs of sleep.
The small hand was Marilyn's, of course; she was frigging him in her sleep.
Bill groaned with increasing pleasure, and he propped himself up on his forearms and, gazing down over Marilyn's naked tummy, saw that her pussy was open and thickly creaming all over the upper parts of her inner thighs.
"Marilyn," he sighed, slipping his hand under her head and maneuvering with a sense of urgency to bring the glans of his cock and her mouth together.
Marilyn began to come awake as he plunged his shaft roughly into the hot depths of her throat.
"Ah," Bill grunted as he watched her suck dazedly, mindlessly, still half-asleep, on the fat, stiff column of his cock.
She nursed the heavy length of flesh with gusto, her flying lips and scraping teeth bruising the delicate skin stretched painfully tight around the hard shaft, and Bill thrust into her mouth in a surge of frenzied lust, stabbing his sensitive knob deeper into her throat.
Marilyn grunted and gasped, near to choking. Her eyes were wild, inflamed with passion, as she raised her head, withdrawing her throat until the glans of Bill's cock popped back into her mouth.
She commenced screwing her head rhythmically, shallowly up and down, and she snorted, her nostrils flaring. She dragged and dragged the tip of her tongue over Bill's cockhead, delighting in the pungent taste of his juices welling up the stem of his throbbing organ.
"Oh, honey, suck the head off the thing!" Bill shouted. "Ooh, you're going to make me come!"
Marilyn jerked her head up with a violent snap of her neck, evicting his cock from her lush wet mouth.
"First do like that to me for a while," she said softly by way of apology.
Bill's blazing eyes launched shafts of anger at her.
"You're a little bitch, aren't you?" he scolded, his anger quickly beginning to cool.
"Please," Marilyn murmured. "My thing needs it something awful."
Not giving Bill time to turn her down, she simply scooted up and threw one of her legs over him, straddling his neck.
"Ooh, you don't know how hot it is," she grunted.
Shuddering from head to toe, she forced her thighs out from under her and sat down on his face.
The moment the lips of her cunt descended into his mouth, Bill snapped with his teeth and commenced grinding and grinding them, chewing with abandon on the glutinous folds.
"Unnh, no!" Marilyn shouted.
She fought to rise onto her knees, to free her pussy from Bill's mad, marauding mouth, but her bucking and twisting only made him more fiendish.
"Bill, you're biting it to shreds! Please! You're going to make it all bloody if you don't stop!"
Bill felt her clitoris slurp out from between the lips of her pussy. He licked at the bloated nubbin; then he quickly transferred his teeth to the tormented sprout and chewed the aching length of red gristle with freewheeling abandon.
"Oh, no! Oh, golly! You'll bite it off, Bill! Listen to-oh, oh, it's happening, you mean thing!"
Just then, there was a knock at the cabin door, and Marilyn froze in the midst of her climax, sitting solidly on Bill's face.
"Wake up, sleepyheads," came the deep, friendly voice of Captain Janeway's roly-poly wife Lydia. "Don't you want to be sociable... meet your fellow voyagers?"
Marilyn couldn't help but giggle. "I thought we were awake," she whispered, gazing down at Bill's nose pressed against her hairy, fat little mound.
"Unnggh," Bill grunted.
"You don't need to breathe," Marilyn told him. "Just start sucking again. Meeting those other honeymooners can wait for a minute... or two... "
CHAPTER FOUR
Marilyn smiled at the image of her face in the mirror behind the bar, and she even giggled a little.
She didn't want to bother herself, but she couldn't help wondering if she was beginning to get drunk. She wasn't very experienced with alcohol; before today, here in the yacht's common room, she'd only tried beer, and no more than three or four cans of that in all her life. And she'd heard that those who are little used to alcohol get drunk most readily.
Well, it was fun to feel as she was beginning to feel, she decided, sitting back suddenly on her barstool and unthinkingly spreading her thighs. It made her warm and friendly and happy; that was all. Surely she had no reason to feel at all uneasy.
And Peter Bryant was such a nice, handsome man-with a cute little shock of black hair that kept falling across his forehead. And he was so funny. And he made Marilyn feel so relaxed.
He did keep saying kind of naughty things every so often, but Marilyn was sure he didn't really mean anything. He was just being playful, and maybe he was getting a little drunk, too.
Peter Bryant. He was Barbara's husband. Barbara was the one with long, woolly red hair and a smile that seemed to want to stretch from ear to ear. They were both nice, Peter and Barbara.
Marilyn craned her neck and looked around. There was Barbara, sitting on one of the bulgy old sofas arrayed before the motion-picture screen set up at the far end of the common room from the bar. Barbara was sitting with Bill, and they were just talking quietly, getting to like each other.
Marilyn couldn't quite recall how it was that she and Bill had gotten separated after entering the common room, but it didn't matter. It was fun to socialize, to make new friends. And the more she drank...
"Oh!" she gasped, then casually pushed Peter's big palm off her thigh for the fifth or sixth time. "You shouldn't touch me like that," she scolded, frowning playfully.
Peter did keep getting a little too friendly, but Marilyn was sure he didn't really mean anything.
"Everybody take your places in front of the screen!" Lydia called out in her booming, husky voice from behind the bar, where she had set up the movie projector. "Time for the flicks!"
"Just like in a plane," Marilyn whispered to Peter after dismounting her barstool and allowing Peter to take her hand and lead her through the sudden darkness toward the one of the three sofas that wasn't yet occupied. "I didn't think we'd get a movie."
"Lydia told me it's going to be a lot better than the movies shown on planes," Peter whispered in return, and laughed softly.
"Yeah? But I thought they showed all the same movies in planes that you can see anywhere."
Marilyn allowed Peter to sit quite close to her on the sofa, because she found the darkness rather scary. She didn't even make any protest when he placed his palm lightly on her thigh. After all, nobody could see his hand there in the darkness, and she was sure he didn't really mean anything.
"No, you can't see quite all of them in a plane," Peter said with a chuckle, giving a little squeeze to her thigh.
"Everybody be quiet now!" Lydia boomed. "I'm going to start 'er rolling."
The screen lit up, and a title in simple red block letters briefly appeared: The Rod And The Raw.
Receiving a sudden inspiration, Peter bent forward and took off his shoes.
"Stand up for a second," he whispered to Marilyn.
"Why?" Marilyn asked, standing.
Peter placed one of his shoes on the sofa where she had been sitting, then said, "Now sit on that."
Boy, he's drunker than I thought, Marilyn figured. Giggling, though-enjoying Peter's vaguely naughty foolishness-she did as he directed.
The title of the movie had dissolved and been replaced by a scene of a neatly dressed, brawny man sitting beside a lovely, fearful-looking, miniskirted young girl on a sofa not unlike those in the common room. The man had draped an arm over the girl's shoulders and let his hand rest lightly down over her breast, and the girl sat tensely, her thighs squeezed together, obviously afraid of what he intended to do and yet even more afraid to anger him by struggling.
"What kind of movie is this?" Marilyn asked softly, squirming on the shoe beside Peter.
"It's a honeymoon movie," Peter answered. "It's all about sex."
Marilyn giggled again, and said, "Oh, you're awful."
He was funny and nice and everything, but he sure was shameless in the things he said.
Her eyes intent on the screen, Marilyn gasped with shock all of a sudden. The brawny man had pulled the girl in the miniskirt tightly against him, and now he was plunging his hand into her blouse to feel over one of her breasts with skin-to-skin sensuality. And the poor, humiliated girl enjoyed it despite herself when he began dragging his fingers over her hardening nipple.
Then the man smashed his lips against hers, and she struggled automatically but vainly to get away.
Marilyn certainly had never seen a movie like this one. It was disgusting-but exciting even so, she had to admit.
Her face reddened as she realized she was pushing her loins down against the heel of the shoe she was sitting on, which lay on its side. Her respiration speeded up; she couldn't stop what she was doing.
She reached to the floor for the strong, tall drink she'd brought along from the bar, and she downed a large gulp of it. She needed something to calm her, she knew, and the drink was the only thing handy.
Boy, she was growing terribly excited! She ground down on the edge of the shoe heel harder and harder, wedging the folds of her thin, billowy dress and the band of her underpants into her slit. She moved her slit to and fro against the heel edge, then modified her tactics when she felt the hard rubber point of the front of the heel edge poking into her through her clothing. Gritting her teeth, she began to fuck herself with that point.
Her loins and the crotch of her underpants were growing damp and sticky, a fact that made her blush when she thought about it. Also, her clitoris was becoming strongly erect, almost painfully so. But what could she do? What she was doing was too enjoyable to stop.
She settled back against Peter's arm, feeling strangely protected by him. She didn't even mind when he stole his hand down to cup her breast. In fact, she scarcely noticed the action, so caught up was she by her own wanton actions.
Anyway, there's nothing wrong with being close friends, she told herself uncertainly, continuing to fuck her sopping cunt rhythmically down over the rubber edge.
Her eyes were still glued to the screen, and she let out a little squeal of surprise when she saw the girl suddenly go lax against her tormentor and screw her tongue into his mouth in a rush of passionate abandon while he massaged her breast more strongly than ever. The girl was squeezing her thighs together again in a barely conscious attempt to smother the fires burning hotter and hotter in her pussy, but it was plain to Marilyn that that method had little hope of success.
The man began pinching her nipple almost viciously, making the girl squirm all the more lustfully against him. And his tongue engaged hers in battle, stoking her fires even more.
Driven by his own desire, the man yanked her off balance to get her to sprawl out on the sofa, and he immediately joined her in the horizontal position. Sweeping his free hand down to the trim, firm mounds of her bottom, he dug in with his fingers and made her pelvic bone push against his through their clothes. He began to stroke and knead the solid little cheeks, and as he ground his midsection against hers, with his tongue still juicily toying with hers, his cock grew achingly erect, its head prodding against her loins.
He moved his hand down from her breast to her stomach, and he started pulling up her dress, baring her thighs then the white of her underpants.
Soon he was slipping his-fingers in under the waistband of her panties.
The girl wriggled from excitement as well as fear as a solitary fingertip squished into her slit and located the mouth of her vagina.
The man slowly forced the finger into her wet red hole, and at the same time he began frigging her swollen clitoris with the other fingers of his hand.
The girl's crotch as well as her inner thighs were sloppy-wet. She was excruciatingly horny, and she couldn't keep from thrusting in time with the movements of the man's fingers at her loins.
Marilyn let out a high-pitched squeal of pleasure as Peter redoubled the lascivious efforts of his hand on her breast.
She wanted to flee, to run from the shamefulness of what she was permitting Peter to do. She knew it was wrong of her to let him, but tried to persuade herself that it wasn't. But the pleasure was so strong, she couldn't put a stop to it.
Not yet. Not yet. If she only let him mess with her breast, that couldn't be too wrong.
She almost jumped out of her seat when she saw the man on the screen suddenly stand up and begin taking off his clothes.
"Golly," she rasped softly, only moments later, when the man stood naked, with his huge, mean-looking erection jutting out in lewd prominence, its purple glans slimy with juices.
Gazing down at the girl still sprawled on the sofa, the man wrapped his hand around his heavy, lengthy shaft and began exercising the thick column of flesh, stripping and unstripping its massive head of the taut-stretched folds of his foreskin.
The girl tried not to look at the throbbing shaft, but she couldn't keep her eyes off its magnificent length.
The man knelt before her and jammed his wet lips down against hers, darting his tongue deep into her mouth. Keeping his lips against hers, he used his hands to coax her into standing up as he stood again.
A flush of embarrassment made the girl close her eyes as she felt the man beginning to unfasten the buttons of her sheer yellow blouse. Soon the blouse lay at her feet, and her flimsy bra quickly followed, leaving her small, solidly packed breasts boldly exposed.
The man knelt at her feet and relieved her of her skirt, tossing it onto the other two garments; then he slowly rolled her underpants off her body, his eyes wide and penetrating as he watched the progress of the baring of her juicy, hairy loins.
The girl cowered before him in complete nakedness, with her muscular, ruthless tormentor still on his knees, his face near her stomach. She appeared to be made dizzy by her humiliation, and her sense of humiliation grew even stronger when she felt the man's lips pressing suddenly against the plump young mound of her cunt.
The man left a trail of bubbly saliva through her pubic hair as he mouthed his way down to the thickened lips of her pussy. Immersing his thumbs in the creamy red tissues of her slit, he pried the lips grossly far apart and stabbed his tongue into the lovely, tremulous groove.
The girl shook all over due to the abrupt and shattering invasion of her private parts. She felt the tip of the man's tongue lashing against her palpitating clitoris, and she sucked in her breath and tumbled backward onto the sofa, with one of her legs trailing to the floor.
"Boy, what a dirty movie!" Marilyn exclaimed. "Is he really going to... going to... right on the screen and everything?"
Peter grinned at her, but he made no reply. He enjoyed seeing her "suffer" in suspense.
The thought of what was going on on the screen, and what had already gone on made Marilyn breathe rapidly and jerkily. She nursed down the rest of her drink in quick gulps; then she sighed deeply as she felt a shudder running up and down her spine.
She wished she had the fortitude to tell Peter to stop playing with her breast, but she couldn't seem to force the necessary words up and out of her throat. She didn't even have enough strength of will to stop him from slipping his hand down inside the front of her dress and snaking his fingers into the one cup of her bra.
"Ooh... Peter... " she groaned.
He was squeezing and frigging her nipple as freely as if he had a right to be doing so, making the sweet bud grow ever more fiercely erect and swollen.
She knew the whole front of her underpants was soggy and smelled of her juices, but she couldn't control herself. She resumed sliding the inner flesh of her achingly inflamed cunt along the edges of the shoe heel.
Oh, what's wrong with me? she asked herself frantically, trying desperately to still her rhythmically pumping hips. The movie's shameful and horrible, but I just can't keep from watching it...
The man on the screen had all but thrown himself onto his succulent prey. His palms were pushing against her inner thighs, forcing her thighs almost obscenely far apart, and now he leered at her stricken face, knowing her conquest, physical as well as moral, was essentially all but complete.
He moved his thumbs to the fleshy, hair-lined lips of her vulva and again dragged them far apart. His eyes burned into the slimy, tingling core of her slit for a long, silent moment of admiration; then he slammed the lower part of his face against her crotch and unceremoniously screwed his tongue into her cunt.
Her bottom twisting and bucking in response to his thoroughgoing tongue-pumping, she jerked her head up and stared between her breasts at his nose smashed against her raw-looking clitoris.
The man sent his hand skidding over her stomach to her tender mounds. He abused her nipples with relentless savagery, his tongue still screwing her quaking twat throat.
As soon as the girl appeared to have resigned herself to his harsh fingering and pinching of her nipples, the man whipped his hands down all the way to her knees. Gripping her knees at their backs, he forced her to fold her legs and suffer the indignity of having them pushed over and down against her torso, so that the meaty, hairy wonder of her crotch was offered up to him like a king's meal.
He slurped his tongue out of her cunt and licked down to the tight elastic pucker of her anus.
The girl's face went pale. She looked as if she were on the verge of fainting from shame.
She flailed her ass to evict his tongue from her rectum, and when she was successful he punished her by plunging a single, thick middle finger into her back passage to the hilt.
And he flicked his tongue back across her perineum and began licking up her copious juices as if her cunt were a dish of milk and he were a famished tomcat.
The girl's body squirmed and writhed under the incessant provocation of the man's tongue, her state of arousal mushrooming at a punishing speed. She gripped her thighs behind her knees and forced them farther and farther apart, and heavy spills of saliva began flowing from the corners of her mouth.
She looked as if she were going mad. The man was jabbing his tongue deeper and deeper into her sucking hole, pumping her up unbearably.
But still the man fucked her with his tongue, on and on.
Then, all of a sudden, he drew his tongue out of her and sat up at her upthrust buttocks. Hunkering down over her, he bit into one of her nipples for a moment; then he slobbered all over her breasts as he ran his palms up and down her thighs.
"How was that for a suck job?" Peter asked Marilyn.
"Peter! The way you talk... "
Peter chuckled and looked back at the screen.
The girl had spread her thighs to the widest possible extent, and the man had moved forward over her and placed his palms flat on the cushion at each side of her head in preparation for fucking her. Now he nosed the head of his cock into the heart of her red slit.
The girl's face was drawn and pale, yet it showed an intense hunger that was far stronger than her fear.
"It really is going to be shown," Marilyn whispered to herself, awed by her realization that such indecent movies existed.
She was breathing more rapidly than ever, and she sensed a growing, pulsing knot of concentrated need tormenting the tingling nerve ends at the base of her stomach. There was a kind of urgency in her, she knew, a rushing toward some ultimate moment that she was afraid to think about; yet she continued ceaselessly working the swollen flesh of her slit against the edge of the shoe heel as she kept watching the movie with feverish concentration.
But it was still all right. It had to be all right. She couldn't be betraying her new husband; she wasn't the type of girl to do such a thing. She was just watching a movie that she knew she shouldn't be watching-but still just watching a movie-and letting Peter go maybe just a little... just a little...
"Oh, he's doing it to her... Peter... " she husked.
The man on the screen had started forcing his erection into the girl's cunt, his eyes burning lecherously into hers as he slowly, steadily penetrated her.
Suddenly he let himself collapse onto her, the lower part of his chest flattening her breasts under him. Thrusting with his hips, he plunged his cock all at once deep into her, his heavy testicles slamming against her anus and the cringing flesh surrounding the tiny, slick porthole.
Marilyn squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, shivering with fear for the girl.
Her eyes shot open abruptly almost as soon as she had shut them, for Peter angled toward her, pressing even more firmly against her, and immediately set his free hand on the bare skin of her thigh just above her knee.
"You're a lovely girl, Marilyn," he whispered in a deep, somehow ominous voice.
Pressing his advantage while Marilyn was still too startled to exert any opposition, he began forcing the hem of her dress, along with the bunching folds traveling before it, up toward her stomach.
"No!" Marilyn yelped in a barely restrained voice.
She grabbed hold of his hand and pushed it back down her thigh, the hem of her dress retreating along with it.
Peter had expected her to roll back the advance made in his first attack; he could tell she was the type who felt bound to come on demure as a matter of good form. But he proved he wasn't going to be put off the track by any hard-to-get nonsense: he countered her defensive tactic by simply plunging his hand right into her lap, close to her abdomen, and starting right in stroking and massaging her spongy flesh through her dress.
His fingertips were soon insistently frigging the throbbing, pudgy mound of her cunt scarcely an inch above the swollen lips of her pussy, which Marilyn chastely guarded by forcing her thighs tightly together.
Marilyn ground her slit more strongly than ever against the hard rubber edge of the shoe heel under her loins. She hoped Peter would assume she was shrinking from his foraging fingers rather than nurturing the new, wickedly strong charge of lust hose fingers had jacked into her.
Oh, was she ever horny now! Daring to snatch a quick glance at her lap, she saw that a spreading circle of sticky dampness was staining her dress as her juices seeped through more and more copiously.
Peter strained with unyielding determination to dig his fingers between her thighs and down the short distance to the core of her genitals, and Marilyn was amazed to find herself slowly relaxing the pressure keeping her thighs together.
"That's the way, Marilyn," Peter murmured hoarsely. "You be good to me, baby, and I'll be good to you."
He massaged the lips of her cunt without mercy, jamming his fingers vigorously against them and working them slowly but forcefully this way and that against the surrounding flesh of her crotch. Marilyn let her thighs sag even farther apart, giving herself up to the delicious feeling coursing through her loins under the impetus of Peter's ceaselessly moving fingers.
It was all right for her to let him do what he was doing, she decided, once more gazing intently up at the movie screen. After all, he wasn't really touching her there, even if it felt as if he were. The erotic sucking sounds coming rhythmically from where he was working his fingertips against the sloppy-wet material of her dress did sound terribly wicked and nasty, but it was all right. It had to be all right...
CHAPTER FIVE
The big muscular man on the screen had not long kept his cock still in the throttling cuntal slot of his victim. After a very few moments spent lying at rest atop her, during which time he gathered his forces for the ruthless bout of fucking he intended to subject her to, he'd slowly begun to withdraw.
The girl's face reflected brutal anguish as he continued withdrawing, for she'd apparently just been deflowered. The slightest dragging movement of his thick shaft against the ragged tatters of her hymen, it appeared, was still excruciating.
The man stopped withdrawing when the flared base of his glans pooched out of the mouth of her vagina, and he immediately screwed his throbbing shaft deep into her pussy once more.
Then he started withdrawing again, and presently he was plowing his erection in and out, in and out, faster and faster, dragging the stretched, thickly veined skin of the ramrod shaft at an ever more punishing rate along the tender lining of her vagina.
And he plastered his lips against hers and began screwing his tongue into her mouth in time with the harsh pistoning action of his cock.
"God, look at him give it to her!" Peter groaned. "He's screwing her raw, Marilyn!"
"Oh, you shouldn't say-hey! What're you doooing?"
Peter had yanked his hand out of her lap, and now he was wedging it between her thighs far up under her dress as quickly as he could.
"Stop, Peter!" Marilyn squealed, spreading her thighs wide apart so that she could grab for his wrist through her dress.
Peter easily reached the plump, snugly held bulge of her genitals with his fingers, and he started right in frigging the wet flesh through the band of her underpants.
Marilyn squirmed harder than ever as he speeded his strongly pushing fingers, which were forcing the soggy strip of nylon running between her legs deep into her violently jacked-up slit.
Suddenly Peter pulled the soaked, ropelike band out of her slit and pushed it aside, allowing him to get at the inner flesh of her pussy directly with his fingers.
Oh, I can't let him do this! Marilyn thought frantically. It's wrong! It's so wrong!
But she couldn't stop him! It was so nice! It was just too maddeningly enjoyable!
"Oh, Peter! Peter! You shouldn't do that! You know you shouldn't do that!"
She squirmed rapturously against his fiercely frigging fingers, her loins quaking from blossom to root due to the exquisite sensations running wild through the creaming flesh.
Peter drove his index finger into her cunt and began slowly, steadily screwing her hole with the invading probe, and her cruelly overwrought loins loosed even more hot gushes of juices, drenching his hand with the copious effusions.
Peter's fingers expertly frigged and banged away at her close-lipped genitals-so expertly that Marilyn already felt as if she were going out of her mind. She couldn't take the brute-like stimulation, she was sure; something would have to give. The feverish heat spreading all through her crotch was just- "Oh, golly, the girl's going wild, Peter!" she gasped somewhat hysterically, trying to ignore the fact that she was going pretty wild herself. "Look at her under him!"
The girl on the screen had found her pain at being fucked so fiercely overwhelmed by the waves of ecstatic response being propelled through her almost violently horny twat that the pain had lost all significance for her. Her entire body was twisting and bucking under her utterly victorious tormentor. Her nostrils were flared obscenely, and sheets of sweat were pouring off her forehead and her deeply reddened cheeks.
The man rammed his hands under the furiously working cheeks of her ass; then he cupped the firm little mounds and began squeezing them as if they were overdeveloped udders heavy with milk pressing from above.
"Ooh, not so rough, Peter! Not so strong!" Marilyn groaned. "You're hurting if! Ooh, you're making it burn!"
"Just look at those two fuck, Marilyn! They're really going to town, aren't they? Have you ever seen anything like it?"
"Don't talk that way, Peter! That's no language to use to a... to a... "
"Baby, let's fuck," Peter husked. "Oh, Marilyn, baby, I want to fuck you so bad. My guts ache, I want you so much."
"Oh, please, Peter... please don't... "
"You want to fuck as bad as I do, baby. You know you do."
"Peter, don't say that! We can't! You have no right to say that! We're both married, Peter!"
Peter tried to laugh, but the sound that came from his throat was more like a groan.
"Have you taken a look at your husband and my wife lately? That man of yours has been humping my Barbara for all he's worth for the past fifteen minutes-and she hasn't been fighting him any, either!"
"No!" Marilyn gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she looked sideways across the room at the scene of wild fornication taking place on the far sofa. "Oh, it's true! Peter, they are! They're doing it! How could he shame me like this?"
"Baby, baby, baby, you know you want to fuck. And if he thinks he's got a right to do it with my wife, then you've got a right to do it with me."
He kissed her then, all but throwing himself on her, forcing her to sprawl out flat on her back on the sofa.
"Oh, baby, it's going to be so good," he rasped breathlessly, then smashed his lips back down on hers with bruising ferocity, and began sucking at her tender young mouth.
His hand darted up and clasped one of her congested titties, his fingers kneading into the spongy flesh.
The heat of his body hunkered closely over her, together with the strong throbbing and quickening of her one nipple in response to his remorseless squeezing and twisting, chased from Marilyn's mind any thought of fighting the lustful attentions. In fact, almost instinctively she lifted her arms and curled them possessively about his neck, hugging him tightly as she shuddered with desire.
Peter snaked his tongue into her mouth. He flicked the tip of the fleshy, wet member all over the juicy membranes that quivered for attention, and at last he strained to penetrate her throat.
Feeling Marilyn squirming again and rubbing up against him, he decided the time was right for him to start to really give the works to her. He skidded his fingers off her fiercely stimulated breast; then he dragged his palm far down her vibrant, diminutive figure. In moments, both his hands were caressing their way back up her thighs, with the bent tips of his fingers now and again boldly prodding the delicate, elastically yielding flesh along the way.
His lust-stoked body tilted unsteadily, angling him up onto his side.
He dipped his fingers between Marilyn's widely splayed thighs, going for her genitals once again. Giving heavy, digging strokes to the succulent tissues, he watched his knuckles bob and piston and twirl under her dress.
No, not yet, he thought. She needs to be teased a little more...
Marilyn grunted as a strong jolt of pleasure slammed into her midsection, releasing its intensity in waves that went pile-driving through her pussy. She felt Peter trying to wedge his hands under her buttocks, and she swung her hips up to facilitate his actions.
Peter pulled her underpants part way off and felt over her sweaty cheeks, driving himself to pinch and caress every portion of the rubbery mounds. At last he squeezed up against the springy handfuls, forcing Marilyn's midsection to strain up high off the sofa. Then abruptly he let her settle back down, and he slipped back off the sofa, onto his calves, and pulled her pants all the way off her.
He worked the front of her dress up out of the way, bunching the folds of material atop her stomach, and he gazed at the puffy red flesh between her legs. Groaning his intense hunger, he reached in to massage the wonder that was her cunt. He dragged his fingers along the thick, hair-lined flanges, then pulled them apart and inserted the tips of his fingers in the steaming maw.
Marilyn began twisting and squirming with fierce energy, and as her pussy pulsed and creamed out copious flows of juices about Peter's probing fingertips, her bowels seemed to tighten and her hips started a shamelessly provocative rhythmical undulation.
Her swollen and inflamed flesh pursed about Peter's fingers, and the glistening inner membranes began sucking at them.
Feeling Peter intensifying his frigging actions, Marilyn grunted once more and drew her legs up, bringing her feet up flat on the sofa, setting them as far apart as she could so that her slit was grossly exposed to whatever manipulations Peter might care to subject it to.
Peter pressed together his index fingers and his middle fingers, and he jammed the four-barreled frigger against the heart of Marilyn's slit.
His finger-banging was so potent and so unrelenting that Marilyn had to chew on her lower lip to keep from screaming out the wonder of the unearthly rapture she was experiencing.
"Ah, Peter!" Marilyn gasped, giving up the struggle, freeing her wounded, bleeding lip. "Do it, Peter-oh, my God! Do it hard and deep!"
Peter frigged her with abandon, jabbing his hand into the maw of her cunt. He frigged every corner and every nook of the slimy, red opening, his fingers stoking her already sizzling passion with greater and greater wildness.
He pried the greasy, hair-lined flanges of Marilyn's pussy viciously far apart, and his fingers screwed away ruthlessly, driving into the sucking depths of her passage, then twisting and spreading and grinding so frenziedly that Marilyn came close to biting off the tip of her tongue from sheer, brutally potent ecstasy.
The stimulation was almost more than Marilyn could stand. Her neck dribbled her head like a basketball on the sofa, flinging it from side to side. Her pussy felt deeper in heat than ever before, deeper even than when Bill had been fucking her at full tilt. Peter's relentless frigging was jacking her up more than she would've thought possible.
She began bucking up from the sofa, her hips gyrating and corkscrewing, her genitals pushing up in a frantic effort to suck even more intense thrills from Peter's fingers. Her inflamed flesh was throbbing and panting from end to end, and the puffy lips were actually twitching with lust.
Groaning at the top of her lungs, she scooted her own hands up to squeeze her breasts through the thin material of her dress.
"Oh, it's too much!" she groaned, and craned her head up to watch her fingers pinch her aching nipples.
Her pussy gushed out more strong flows of juices, ripped from the depths of her loins by the ceaseless marauding of Peter's fingers.
This can't go on much longer! she thought wildly.
Peter eased back with his fingers, then skidded a solitary finger over the ridge of Marilyn's slit, foraging through the gluey mess until the tip of the finger encountered her clitoris.
"Oh, you poor baby, it's so hard and big," he said, stroking the glans of the girlish erection. "You must ache with wanting to come, it's so tense."
"Yes! Help me, Peter! I've got to come or I'll lose my mind!"
"Well, this isn't the best way... "
Peter drew his hands away from Marilyn's cunt.
"Roll over and get up on all fours, baby; then I'll take care of everything."
Marilyn groaned with impatience. She didn't see the sense of Peter's request, but she was far too thoroughly jacked-up to waste time arguing with him. If she had to get on all fours, she'd do so; she really wanted Peter to start fucking her.
"That's good, baby," Peter murmured, reaching up to fold the back of her dress off her ass.
"Do something!" Marilyn pleaded.
Peter got up onto the sofa behind her. He brought his nose close to her asshole and sniffed deeply.
"Hey!" Marilyn yelped. "What are you- ooh... "
Peter edged his nose forward till it was thrust obscenely into the maw of her cunt.
"Ooh, golly!" she squealed, her hips jerking in response to the tickling pressure. "This is so nasty!"
Peter grinned broadly, his face flushed by his welling lust.
"This is wicked!" Marilyn said more hoarsely, shuddering with desire despite her attitude.
Peter's nose abruptly skidded up and stroked against her tiny puckery anus.
"Ooh... please... No... " Marilyn groaned, her bowels churning and convulsing as she felt the tip of his tongue beginning to lash repeatedly against her asshole.
Her cringing elastic rear aperture was so sensitive to the juicy stimulation that she was barely able to keep from screaming. Passion and humiliation made her cheeks flush deeply and her eyes water, and her hips began to rotate in tight circles as Peter's tongue concentrated its increasingly vigorous attentions right inside the tiny pucker of her anus.
Once again Peter started dragging his tongue through her grossly exposed wet pussy, which throbbed and spasmed as powerful jolts of pleasure sizzled throughout its swollen flesh.
"Ooh, Peter, it's so indecent, what you're doing!" Marilyn cried.
"Nonsense," Peter retorted, then quickly returned to licking away between her thighs, his educated tongue sweeping more and more rapidly, with greater and greater reach, through her slit.
Marilyn felt his thick tongue rhythmically frigging her bloated clitoris. She emitted a heavy, throat-raking grunt of desire, and she spread her knees farther apart on the sofa, giving him easier and more thorough access to her private parts.
"Oh, Peter," she husked, lowering her head and trying to peer under her torso at him.
With a last harsh lick at the tip of her clitoris, Peter ceased violating Marilyn's loins with his tongue. Backing up and squatting slightly, he heaved up from his haunches and launched his muscular torso heavily onto her back.
Peter's vigorous manipulations of her wet cunt had strongly jacked Marilyn up, but his abandoned tonguing of her slit had put in the shade the sensations she had been experiencing. And now, his sudden mounting of her sent the level of her lust soaring even higher, penetrating her cunt with painfully potent electric charges of ecstasy.
Peter unzipped his fly, then hunched forward, and his throbbing erection fairly burst forth from his briefs. The stiff purple head of the shaft bobbed and twitched as it was extruded from the heavy folds of his foreskin, and presently its extreme tip nosed into the tight, puffy maw of Marilyn's pussy.
Peter gave out a low-pitched, shuddering growl of a sound that was more animal than human in the sort of passion it laid bare.
He jabbed strongly but, at first, ineffectively against Marilyn's cunt.
"Lower your head and shoulders, baby," he rasped. "Get your bottom up for me. Let me lodge my cock in your slit and fuck it on into you."
Marilyn's hips jerked higher as she hurried to obey. All resistance had been boiled out of her; she wanted only to do whatever was necessary to enable Peter to penetrate her cuntal throat as quickly as possible.
Peter let out a rumbling growl as he hunched forward more determinedly, and his massive erection ripped into Marilyn's sucking depths with the ease of a hot knife blade penetrating soft butter.
"Aiieee!" Marilyn hissed, her face slamming against the sofa's cushion and skidding for almost a foot.
Not even taking the time to raise her face, she heaved up and flung her arms out far before her in a vain attempt to dislodge Peter's thick weapon from her brutally ravaged passage.
Peter had only to lurch forward with her, which he did with full-blown ferocity. He bore down on her more heavily than ever with his straining torso, embedding his mighty shaft still deeper in her quaking hole and forcing her into a ludicrous posture of supplication.
Marilyn hissed with pain again, sure that she was being viciously gored by Peter's rampant cock. Her twat felt raw from stem to stern, and she couldn't help but believe that its tender membranes were torn and bleeding.
"Oh, no! Help me, Peter! Oh, get it out! You've got to get it out!"
The stretching Peter's hilt-deep cock was giving her passage was truly terrible, as Peter could well imagine; but far from intending to withdraw the thick shaft, Peter said, "Baby, I'm going to fuck you to a frazzle!"
"Oh, no, no, you're killing me!" Marilyn yelped, feeling Peter's huge shaft beginning to piston in her spasming channel. "Please, Peter-ooh, in God's name, get off me! Pull it out! You're screwing your way into my belly, Peter!"
"It can't be all that bad, baby," Peter groaned. "If you'd only start matching my thrusts instead of fighting them, you'd find your suffering turning into the most wonderful experience of your life in no time at all."
Marilyn was willing to try anything if there was a chance it might relieve the unbearable pain she was enduring. Gritting her teeth and steeling herself for the cruelest sort of letdown, which she more than half-expected, she waited for Peter to stab forward again, then screwed her hips back at full speed to meet his sledgehammer thrust.
"Ooh, it works!" she squealed, churning the wet neck of her womb against the rounded shape of Peter's glans.
Marilyn was shocked to find that such a full-blown change of feeling was possible in so little time. She'd been suffering unrelieved agony of the most punishing sort, but now she was enjoying very special sensations of deep-reaching rapture.
Squealing from the sheer delight of it, she thrust back again to meet another of Peter's pile-driving jabs.
And she found out that the best was yet to come! Her pussy started to tingle and simmer with skyrocketing rut, and the deep fleshy feelings grew stronger and stronger with each new probing of Peter's stiff shaft.
Marilyn's reddened face was inflamed with the most intense sort of passion, and her mouth gaped open to send thick flows of saliva spilling across her cheeks and dribbling down her chin.
"Was I right or wasn't I?" Peter husked.
Marilyn was too preoccupied with what she was experiencing to answer him, or indeed even to have noticed that he'd spoken. She knew from the preliminary explosions thundering through her loins that her time was already close, and she couldn't tear her attention away from that momentous realization, not even for a moment. All her senses were primed to withstand what she knew was going to be a climax of truly magnificent proportions, and she dared not- "Oh, good Lord! Here it is! Fuck me, Peter! Do it harder! I'm coming! I'm coming!"
Her body shook from head to toe as her pussy squeezed Peter's driving cock with near-crushing force. Her eyes went wide, wild; then an incredibly powerful shock wave of rapture convulsed her loins. She curled her toes and dug into her palms so fiercely with her nails that she drew blood-and it was now, and it was inexpressibly blissful.
Peter fucked her with such abandon he actually farted, and he almost blushed at his indiscretion, though he didn't falter in his mad onslaught.
Gripped by a primal feeling of tenderness for his conquest, he kissed Marilyn between her shoulder blades as he screwed his cock into her incandescent depths.
"Oh, Jesus, me, too!" he growled. "I'm coming, too!"
And come he did, for a flame seared its way down his painfully expanded urethra and touched off a chain reaction of explosions in the depths of the swollen storage tanks of his seed.
"Give it to me, Peter!" Marilyn groaned mindlessly, still swept up by her own orgasm. "Shoot your stuff deep into me 'til it drowns my cunt!"
The inner lips of Marilyn's cunt suddenly flashed apart to an incredible extent as Peter's convulsing loins began pumping a mighty gusher of semen into her overburdened passage. The frothy white blasts pummeled her cervix with violent force, then surged back along the succulent, gluey walls of her pussy hole and sprayed out about the massive, pluglike root of the erupting cock.
Marilyn waited until Peter had spewed the last stinging jets of his release into her twat; then she sprawled out on the sofa under his hunkering form, collapsing like a discarded wax figure melting in the noonday sun.
CHAPTER SIX
The movie was still on, with the man and the girl just beginning their fourth bout of unbridled on-screen lust, when Bill, at last satiated by the abundant charms of Peter's wife Barbara, left her and passed behind the row of sofas and came around the one Marilyn and Peter lay piled on.
"Would you mind getting off my wife?" he asked Peter, his tone icy.
Craning his neck and staring up at Bill, Peter laughed caustically, if briefly, and said, "Sounding mighty righteous, aren't you, fella? Or was that just a new kind of artificial respiration I saw you administering to my wife across the room there?"
Bill's face reddened, and he looked away from Peter's eyes. Hearing him laugh again, his face reddened even more.
"Bill!" Marilyn yelped, struggling to get out from under Peter as her senses started coming back and she realized it was her husband who was looming before the sofa.
"I'm telling you to get off her," Bill intoned threateningly.
"Yeah, sure, whatever you say," Peter said wearily, easing himself shakily off Marilyn onto his feet.
"Oh, Bill-" Marilyn began.
"Put your pants on," Bill ordered curtly. "We're going to our cabin."
Marilyn lay prone on the bed in the cabin, her head cradled upon her folded arms. Bill had been berating her over her unfaithfulness, and she was crying openly, ashamed of herself, yet angry at the same time.
"What about you?" she challenged Bill. "I didn't do any worse than you, and you're the one that started first!"
"Well, it's different with a guy," Bill said lamely, sitting on the bed near Marilyn's feet.
"Anyway, he made me do it... practically."
"You didn't look like you were fighting very hard under him."
"Oh... you just don't love me any more, do you?"
"I do so, Marilyn! I do, and don't you say I don't!"
"Well... "
"I love you more than anything, Marilyn! You know I do!"
Leaning suddenly over her, he pushed the back of her dress up off her bottom, baring the small, creamy mounds, for Marilyn hadn't put her pants back on but had simply carried them back to the cabin. Almost overwhelmed by a surge of tender love for her, he jammed his face against her rubbery cheeks and immediately plowed his tongue between them.
Marilyn let out a yelp of surprise.
Only moments passed before she found herself decidedly enjoying Bill's rude attentions. Unable to control herself, she began squirming and twisting under his probing caresses, moving her haunches in a salacious and very provocative manner that brought the full length of her tingling slit bobbing up within reach of his lips and tongue.
The pointy tip of his saliva-smeared tongue drew back for a moment and he groaned, "Oh, darling, I love you so much."
Then his tongue was launched toward the heart of Marilyn's cunt. Invading the snug, hot core of succulent membranes, it flicked against her swollen lips, which extended down most of the length of the trembling, open wound, then was pushed in even farther, the impatient probe burrowing right into the narrow, sucking confines of her vagina.
Bill settled his hands onto the mounds of Marilyn's bottom, which quivered tantalizingly in response to the tickling pressure. He clasped the firm, fleshy cantaloupes and began alternately squeezing them against each other and prying them grossly far apart, even forcing them up and down, rhythmically kneading and massaging the delicious, youthful flesh.
With a groan, he pressed his lips more vigorously against the hair-lined folds of her pussy, and he dragged and circled and jerked his lips over the creamy wound as he drove his tongue more strongly, with greater determination and greater frenzy, into the glutinous throat of her fully blossomed cunt.
The thickened folds of Marilyn's cunt seemed to suck at his lips as he pushed his tongue ever deeper into her palpitating passage, which creamed and spasmed around the invading sting.
Flushed with passion, Bill edged his fingers into the shadowy valley of Marilyn's behind, digging for the mouth of her rectum.
A gross liquid sound welled up continuously from the wet maw of Marilyn's pussy as Bill drove his lips more fiercely into the delicious little bulge.
Marilyn's cheeks became flushed as well, and she groaned deeply and squirmed more energetically as Bill's lips and tongue frigged away at her inflamed tissues and membranes, dragging harshly against every bit of the gooey flesh. She felt so very naked down there, so terribly exposed and defenseless, and all she could do was grit her teeth and steel her loins against Bill's relentless attentions.
Bill spread her tight-muscled cheeks, and as he did so he began pumping and twirling his tongue in her clammy little passage. He'd driven his tongue in to the hilt, reached the sizzling quick of the gluey hole, and now there was nothing for him to do but aggravate the ravenous lubricity of his thoroughly abandoned probing. His tongue jabbed and twisted and curled, frigging the hot, sopping depths of Marilyn's channel with outrageous intensity.
Pearly drops of juices spilled out of Marilyn's cuntal flesh and seeped into Bill's mouth, and Marilyn sighed with delight, enraptured by the spastic thrills ricocheting through her loins.
The buttery-sweet drops of cream trickled over Bill's lips and the back of his tongue, then spilled down his panting throat, tasting like a fine, musky girlish perfume. He swallowed voraciously again and again, loving the taste of the precious exudation, and sucked with ever greater thirst.
All of a sudden Bill withdrew his mouth and pitched Marilyn over, nearly dumping her off the bed. He undressed quickly; then he straddled Marilyn's face, with his own face directed toward her cunt.
Marilyn made a little whimper of confusion, not knowing whether she dared to do as she wanted to do-what she'd been tricked into doing that morning. Her eyes burned into Bill's hard, heavy cock, and a blush stole across her cheeks.
"Suck it, Marilyn," Bill urged hoarsely, moving his crotch closer to her face. "You did this morning. Don't be afraid."
Oh... why not? Marilyn mused, her hands slipping up behind Bill's buttocks and moving toward the root of his erection. I do want to awfully bad.
Her fingers curved around the thickly haired root of the shaft, tentatively at first, but with greater and greater daring, greater freedom of movement. She moved her fingers over the hard length in slow, easy caresses.
With a shuddery sigh of abandon to the feelings running rampant through her, Marilyn at last moved her fingers up to frig their tips over the slimy purple glans of Bill's cock.
Bill was prompted to get back into action. He hunkered his torso, down low over Marilyn's; then he coaxed her into doubling up her legs so that he could feel over the springy mounds of her bottom.
It was only a short time before Bill's fingers drifted inevitably toward Marilyn's wrinkled little anus. He screwed one index finger unerringly into her brown passage; then he gave a sudden, jarring twist to the immersed finger and began pumping it in and out.
Abruptly, he skewered the index finger all the way into Marilyn's profoundly moved rectum.
"Ah," Marilyn grunted, rocking on her hips.
Bill felt her snug little anus clench its muscles about the root of his index finger. He screwed her back passage more and more vigorously, seemingly with greater and greater urgency, and he grunted, slopping saliva over his chin to spill squarely into her cunt.
Marilyn, meanwhile, was growing more bold in her own actions. Wrapping her fingers around the tip of Bill's cock, she peeled his foreskin completely off the purple head and favored herself with an intriguing view right into his dilated urethra, which she teasingly blew into.
The firm, slimy glans of Bill's cock began to throb and quake in response to the crude, maddening provocation.
Marilyn raised her head and screwed up her lips; then she sucked the fat purple bulb into her mouth. Her moist and tender young lips juiced all over the hard, round projection, making Bill's thighs quiver strongly as they spread farther apart.
Marilyn worked the head of Bill's throbbing shaft right down her throat, and she suddenly realized that her nose was dragging against the crater of Bill's asshole. Her wantonly flared nostrils spasmed as she breathed deeply, the strong smell of Bill's ass wafting up into them and strongly provoking her already intense desire.
Marilyn panted humidly and dragged her nose against the indentation of Bill's anus, and she sensed a wicked jolt of excitement, a jolt that let her know Bill was thoroughly appreciating her perverse attentions.
Bill decided it was time for him to redouble his own foreplay. He jammed his mouth fiercely against, her vulva and began giving the tender flesh powerful, probing sucks. His spread lips suctioned the cuntal flanges into his mouth, and he started to chew on the tasty bits of flesh.
Biting strongly into the pulpy lips, Bill began whipping the tip of his tongue up and down the swollen red ridge of her pussy. Making obscene juicy sounds, he dragged his tongue over the luscious flesh, then jabbed the tip in to lick through the messy wound.
Beginning to rock gently to and fro against each other, Bill and Marilyn sucked and tongued maddeningly at each other's private parts.
"I'm ready as hell, darling," Bill groaned suddenly.
He jerked his cock out of Marilyn's suctioning mouth, and he turned around to settle down on top of her, face-to-face. He lowered his lips about her nose and began to suck and tongue the small, cute shape all over, and at the same time he started a slow, vigorous undulation of his loins against hers, dragging his erection through her creaming slit.
"Oh, Bill, it's bigger than ever!" Marilyn rasped.
Oddly, she felt a little twinge of fear run through her. She struggled reflexively, not even thinking, but her strength didn't compare to that of Bill, who had no trouble subduing her and pressing her more forcefully into the mattress.
Bill carried through with his advantage, smashing his lips against Marilyn's and probing into the slippery-walled cavern of her mouth with his lashing tongue. He drove his tongue without letup in her mouth, darting and twirling its tip here and there, sending it ever deeper, toward her throat.
Their lips pressed with fiery passion against each other, and their bodies rocked more energetically than ever together, helping to stoke the incandescent heat that radiated throughout their vibrant flesh from their loins.
Bill skidded one of has hands up to squeeze a mound of hot titty flesh. His fingers frigged against the little titty's stiff red nipple, making it poke up in achy tumescence. He even pinched the extreme tip of the jutting nipple between two fingernails, and he scissored his nails in opposite directions in a harsh, sawing action.
Soon more frothy white juices were gushing from the swollen tissues of Marilyn's pussy, and Bill became suddenly certain that it was time for him to stab his erection home.
With his free hand, jammed down between his midsection and Marilyn's, he took firm hold of the thickened root of his cock and manipulated its length until it was directed into Marilyn's vagina, the glans of the organ lodged just inside the mouth of the swampy passage.
Marilyn's entire body went suddenly stiff as she felt the hardened glans nosing slickly into her. Her heels and shoulders dug into the mattress; then she thrust up hard and let out a yelp, feeling the shaft stab deep into her throbbing hole.
Bill strained even more strongly than Marilyn. He jammed his hairy pelvis against Marilyn's mound, and his cock stretched deeper and deeper into her.
Bill's cock was presently embedded in Marilyn's constricting vagina to its very root. He grunted long and deep due to the effort of his driving cuntal penetration, and he stilled his movements and inhaled until his lungs were filled to capacity.
"Ooh, darling, you're so nice and tight," he groaned against Marilyn's wet lips. "You're squeezing me so nice... in there... "
His vigor quickly recovered to a sufficient degree, he slid his hand up under his torso to take hold of Marilyn's other breast. He rubbed and stroked both breasts with gentle sensual caresses, and he groaned again, his face flushing with intense beads of sweat popping out all over his cheeks and brow. His cock seemed to be on fire inside Marilyn's squeezing cunt.
Marilyn also was growing more and more horny. Mindlessly, a deep feeling of possessiveness running through her, she slipped her hands up onto Bill's back and began moving her palms about in sweeping caresses, quickly bringing her fingers down to his strongly jutting buttocks.
Bill grunted with pleasure as he felt Marilyn's fingers massaging the solid, muscular mounds of his ass.
Marilyn grunted, too, more fiercely, and she pressed firmly with her palms and edged the tips of her fingers down farther, toward the juncture of Bill's thighs.
She probed along the humid crack running through the dark valley of Bill's rump till the tip of her seeking index finger located his asshole.
"Ooh, darling, you're crazy," Bill groaned, feeling Marilyn's insistent finger screwing its way deep into his clasping rectum.
While Marilyn finger-fucked him with rapidly increasing swiftness, Bill began fucking into her deliciously tight slot with his fiercely erect cock. He rocked and ground his midsection against hers, sawing the glans of his throbbing shaft repeatedly into the depths of her channel.
Marilyn felt the massive erection stabbing and stabbing into her, and she felt fiery pulsations of rapture ripping through her cuntal flesh, making her whole body throb and quake under Bill's pounding form.
Bill again sought her lips, and as he drove his tongue once more deep into her mouth, the tip of his tongue searching frenziedly over the delicate wet lining, he again moved his hands up under his ceaselessly moving torso to grip and squeeze her aching, firm-fleshed titties. He began frigging the fiercely swollen nipples for the second time, and he heard Marilyn starting to pant and grunt as the first throes of orgasm whipped into her flesh.
Marilyn fisted her hands beside her hips and thrust up powerfully under Bill.
"Oooh, I'm coming! Bill-ooh, Bill... "
"Baby, honey, darling, so am I!" Bill gasped, screwing more violently than ever into her.
He felt his release spurting furiously into the depths of her vagina. On and on went his climax, growing more and more jarring in its ferocity, until at the end he was discharging his seed with near-explosive violence.
"Ooh, darling, darling, Marilyn, I love you like crazy," he groaned, at last rolling off Marilyn and getting onto his knees.
Marilyn stared up at him through dewy eyes. She felt as if she really knew the meaning of true love, knew it for the first time in her life.
Reaching for her hand, Bill said, "Let's forgive each other. Okay?"
Marilyn smiled.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Wanderlust cruised into Sugarloaf Key harbor late that night, and Marilyn felt a quiet sense of release as she descended the broad gangplank beside Bill, holding hands with him. Pleasant as the voyage down from Jacksonville had been-and it had been pleasant, even beyond the sexual activities that had involved her and Bill and the other two honeymoon couples for a good part of the time-she had still begun to feel confined.
Gusts of offshore wind whipped at her clothes and played through her hair, and she threw her arms out and playfully spun around on her toes after stepping ashore, delighting in the feeling of freedom she gained from the firm, rolling land that stretched away from the sea.
"You seem to be feeling mighty good," said a squat, gray-haired old man mounted on a mule. "I hope you keep feeling that way while you're here."
Marilyn saw that there were six mules extending in pairs behind the mule on which the old man was mounted. She assumed she and Bill and the other honeymoon couples would be riding to the resort. She certainly hoped they would be, because it sounded like a lot of fun.
"I'm sure I'll have a wonderful time," she replied to the man, treating him to a bright smile. "Are those other mules for all of us?" She gestured expansively, indicating the assembled couples, including Bill and herself.
Captain Tony Janeway and his wife Lydia were standing a little off from the couples. Captain Tony's rumpled blue yacht captain's hat was tilted slightly on his head and angled not quite forward, giving him a somewhat pixyish look, though he was rather tall and big-bodied for a pixy. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets in response to the slight chilliness of the breeze coming in over the dark waters of the harbor, and he chuckled happily, as if sharing the expectation of the couples.
"That 'all of us' doesn't include Lydia and me, I'm afraid," he said, cutting the chuckle short. "Work and more work for us... not like you young rabbits."
He winked at Marilyn and smiled, letting her know that his words were meant playfully and not offensively.
"That old coot up on the mule there is Eddy Johnson," he told the couples. "He's the manager of the resort. And the other mules are for you'ns, all right."
"You talk too much, Cap'n Tony," Eddy cut in. "The little lady was talking to me, so hush up now... if that's not asking too much."
"Just don't let that old heart of yours give out while you're leading these fine people over hill and dale, old man," Captain Tony retorted, and chuckled again.
Marilyn squeezed Bill's hand tighter and started with him toward the first pair of mules behind Eddy.
Everybody was so friendly-even the innocent teasing was obviously a form of friendliness-that the future seemed to promise only happiness for Marilyn. She even forgot her sense of shame over what she and Peter had done, because it was only the future that counted.
Bill's hands felt strong and sure and protective as he helped Marilyn mount the nearest of the mules.
After riding at a leisurely pace over a narrow trail that wound over and around a few low hills, the young honeymooners, along with Eddy Johnson mounted on his mule at the lead, came to a corral. Eddy directed the couples to dismount, and when Marilyn had her feet planted solidly on the ground she gazed out over the small, moonlit lake nearby beyond a stretch of shrubbery and small trees.
There were several compact log cabins scattered along the lake shore, as well as one considerably larger cabin that Marilyn assumed to be both the office of the resort and the home of Eddy and his wife. (Eddy had joked, on the short trek overland to the resort, that it was really his wife Trudy who was "in charge of everything, because she has all the brains.") But it was chiefly the romantic look of the lake that claimed Marilyn's attention.
"Mighty pretty, isn't it?"
Marilyn turned to face the speaker, and she smiled at him and nodded.
The man was Harry Carmody-whose bride was a Junoesque brunette named Joan. Harry wasn't as tall as Bill or Peter, and he was a stocky man, easily the heaviest of the three, but not fat. He was the oldest of the three as well-Marilyn judged that he was at least four or five years older than Bill-and he'd been going prematurely bald for several years, as was made clear by his high forehead. Still, the hair he had left-it was brown-was thick, even bushy, and that included his eyebrows, which were so full they helped to give him a primitive, vaguely menacing look. He was handsome in his way, and Marilyn realized that his look of immense strength attracted her to him, even though she tried to suppress that knowledge. He seemed well mannered enough, yet there was something oddly brutish about his overall look that stirred her senses in a disturbing but unquestionably positive way.
"Like to take a walk down to the lake shore with me... get a little closer look?" Harry asked.
"Well, I don't know... "
Harry laughed. "Don't tell me you think I'm propositioning you, Marilyn."
"No, no, that's not what I mean," Marilyn said quickly, her face reddening. "It's just that... well, my husband-"
"I'd just kind of like to talk with you for a few minutes. You don't see anything wrong in people getting to know each other, do you?"
"But my husband-" Marilyn tried again.
"Oh, it'll do him good to be away from you for a short while," Harry interrupted, laughing that easy laugh of his again. "He'll learn to appreciate you more. And besides, if you'll just take a look to your left you'll see that your husband's helping to lead the mules into the corral. And it looks to me like that old fellow Johnson is in the midst of talking his ear off, so he'll probably be occupied longer than we'll be gone."
"Well... "
"I thought you'd see the light after I gave you a little encouragement," Harry said, grabbing Marilyn's hand and tugging her along with him toward the lake shore.
"I don't know if Bill's going to appreciate me running off like this."
"Don't be silly. I'm sure he won't mind a bit. You know, Marilyn, I think you're too dependent on that boy of yours for your own good. You've got to have your own head on your shoulders, you know."
Marilyn was about to protest his insinuation that she was perhaps a little childish when she heard someone trotting toward them from behind.
"Hey, slow down, you two." It was Peter's voice. "Where you off to? A lovers' tryst? That sort of thing's not allowed around here."
Despite the fact that his tone was playful, Marilyn found herself blushing again. The shame of what she and Peter had done came back into her consciousness in a rush.
What did he want? she wondered, more than a little suspiciously.
"We're just going down to get a closer look at the lake and to have us a nice, friendly little conversation for a minute or two," Harry called over his shoulder.
"Mind if I join you?" Peter asked, coming abreast. "Barbara says she wants to check out the cabin she and I are going to be assigned, but I'd like to get a closer look at the lake myself, same as you two."
"Sure, come on with us if you want," Harry said without hesitation. "You don't mind, do you, Marilyn?"
Marilyn was staring at her feet, trying to bring her embarrassment under control. She didn't look up when she murmured, "No. It's okay."
Actually, of course, she wished Peter hadn't decided to join her and Harry. It wasn't that she had any particular desire to be alone with Harry-in fact, the prospect had made her feel distinctly uneasy, for reasons she didn't care to think about. It was simply that she could no longer feel really at ease around Peter. His presence inevitably reminded her of what he and she had done, and he'd acquired a habit of looking at her with a suggestive leer that made her embarrassingly aware of the train of his thoughts about her.
Marilyn was glad, though, at least in one respect, that Harry had so readily assented to Peter's coming along. She felt she could now be sure that Harry had no intention of trying to seduce her, which she'd not been altogether sure of before.
Harry laughed and said to Peter, "I guess you can tell by her tone of voice that she'd rather you go peddle your papers. She's being polite, of course, but if you're any kind of gentleman you'll obey her real wish."
"I never meant... " Marilyn spoke up uncertainly. "I don't mind at all if he comes along, and you had no reason-"
"Oh, I was just ribbing him a little, Marilyn," Harry said as he led Marilyn through thick clumps of high shrubbery between two trees.
After Peter had followed them through the shrubbery, Marilyn glanced back and saw that nothing could be seen beyond the clumps of shrubbery, which had closed back against each other: corral, mules, her husband and the others left behind had all disappeared.
Marilyn turned back around and gazed out over the purple-black lake surface, which sparkled brilliantly and beautifully under the light of the nearly full moon.
Marilyn was truly awed by the panoramic sight, but it didn't please her as much as it might have. She tried to persuade herself that it was only silliness on her part, but she just couldn't seem to talk herself out of the quiet sense of fear that had stolen over her when, looking back, she'd realized how isolated she, Peter, and Harry were by the lake.
The fear wasn't strong, but its presence nagged at her anyway. She didn't really think Peter and Harry would rape her, but she knew there was a good chance that their talk might get a little more "friendly", a little more personal than she would find comfortable.
The worst thing about the fear, though, she knew without thinking about it, was that it was largely a fear of herself...
Harry took Marilyn by the elbow and turned her toward him. "Do you know why I really wanted you to come down here with me, Marilyn?" he asked, his eyes boring relentlessly into hers.
Marilyn had to look down, and she flushed once more, feeling ashamed of her shyness.
"To look at the lake," she said softly.
"That's not the real reason. It's that I want some of what you gave Peter."
Marilyn's head shot up and she whirled and glared at Peter. "You told!" she yelped.
"He didn't have to tell me anything, Marilyn," Harry said. "We were all gathered together in the yacht's common room, if you'll remember. It so happens I saw you two fucking away like mad."
"Don't say that!" Marilyn shrieked, whirling back around to face Harry. "Please don't say that! I don't want to hear about it! I'm ashamed that it happened, and I-" It was lust that Harry's eyes revealed as he interrupted Marilyn. "You did nothing to be ashamed of," he said sharply, as if he'd been personally offended by her words.
All of a sudden he rushed forward and swept Marilyn up into his irresistibly powerful arms.
"Just because you've been taught what you did was dirty-"
"Put me down!" Marilyn shouted. "Now, Marilyn, you don't want to be like that, do you? I mean, it was obvious from what I saw-"
"Peter, aren't you going to lift a finger to make him put me down?" Marilyn snarled, her eyes flashing fire at Peter.
"Why? He's not hurting you, as far as I can see."
"And I don't intend to hurt you," Harry put in, holding Marilyn more tightly against his chest. "I just-"
"You're just going to stand there like a statue and let him... let him molest me?" Marilyn demanded of Peter.
"Is that what he plans on doing?" Peter retorted, leering at her. "Is that your idea, Harry?"
"I just want to screw you the way Peter did, Marilyn," Harry said, as nonchalantly as if he were commenting on the weather. "I know you're a really hot girl from seeing you going to town with Peter, so why don't you just forget about your silly inhibitions-"
"You'd do it to me right in front of Peter... right here... now? This is our first night at the resort for all of us, for heaven's sake! Don't you have-either of you-don't you have any feelings of loyalty toward your wives?"
"I can't speak for Peter, but as for me: sure, I have feelings of loyalty for Joan. Joan's a good woman, and I love her. But I don't think a person should be a fanatic about anything."
"That's just about how I feel," Peter said.
"You both must be out of your heads!" Marilyn shouted, finding it hard to believe that what was happening was really happening.
The first night at the honeymoon resort! The very first night! She couldn't betray Bill so horribly! She couldn't let Harry rape her! If she couldn't talk him into putting her down and leaving her alone, she'd have to struggle out of his arms!
Harry had so little trouble holding her struggling body that she looked pathetic and almost comical, jerking and twisting to no purpose.
In fact, Harry was able to keep her pinned securely against his chest with only one arm, and thus he was able to start stripping her even as she continued to fight him. He had her completely naked in two minutes, without even having to put her down.
Oh, golly, he's going to do it! He's going to rape me! she thought, a sense of hopelessness sweeping over her and weakening her will to resist.
Her frantic struggling proved even more deflating, more surely futile than she had already been made to realize. She saw Harry's catcher's-mitt-sized hands, with their hair-covered backs, starting to paw over her flesh even as his bull-strong arms held her securely high on his chest, and she snarled more fiercely than ever and fought him like a rabid ocelot; but it was no use.
Harry ran his rough, leathery fingers over the tips of her breasts, his nails scraping against the sensitive skin of the budlike little nipples.
"Oh, no, stop, don't, don't!" she shouted convulsively.
More interested in other parts of her body than her titties, Harry soon skidded his fingers down across her spasming stomach and began dragging their tips through her slit.
Even though she was frightened, Marilyn couldn't help responding, and she responded more and more wildly as Harry's fierce frigging of her cuntal flesh grew increasingly abandoned.
Her clitoris shot out in a tingling, quivering erection, and Harry's fingers quickly found it and started furiously stroking and squeezing it, making her tremble in his arms, her pussy creaming over his fingers and down the front of his jacket.
"Ooh, don't," she sighed, pushing her cunt against his ravaging fingers.
Harry gripped her clitoris and began a forceful pistoning motion, spicing the up-and-down frigging with occasional twists of his gripping fingers.
"Oh, please!" Marilyn gasped. "Not so much all of a sudden!"
Already her body was burning with desire, and those maddening fingers of Harry's made her pump her hips in a frenzy of lust for his cock. Her head rolled against his shoulder and his neck, and her nostrils flared as her tongue flopped out of her mouth.
Panting and grunting because of her need, she squeezed her eyes shut and spilled glistening trails of saliva out of her mouth.
Harry lowered her to the moist grass and leaned closely over her. His eyes narrowed as he treated himself to an extended visual examination of her charms.
Marilyn's legs had come to rest quite far apart, with both knees slightly raised. Harry was able to peer right into her open cunt, and he was soon doing precisely that, his mouth watering as his eyes lingered on the near-hypnotic sight.
At last he stirred from his salacious reverie, and he stood and began to undress.
"How long do you figure you'll be taking with her?" Peter asked, his head tipped forward, his eyes burning into the moist red flesh at Marilyn's crotch.
"As long as it takes," Harry answered.
"Well, just be sure you leave some for me."
Harry glanced up at Peter and grinned. "Don't worry," he said, his voice growing hoarse. "There's plenty to go around."
CHAPTER EIGHT
"What are you looking at, handsome?" Barbara asked, lightly punching Bill in the arm. "What are you doing still standing here by the corral? I already looked through the cabin old Johnson assigned to Peter and me, and I even got our stuff unpacked and everything. It's real homey."
Bill turned and saw Barbara, whose woolly red hair was piled neatly atop her head instead of hanging free as it had been.
"Why the long face?" Barbara asked.
Bill tried to smile for her benefit, but he knew the smile looked as phony as it was.
"I've just been looking at the lake," he said. "The way the moonlight reflects off it makes it look real pretty... almost like a field of diamonds."
"You've seen lots of fields of diamonds, have you?" Barbara teased, and joined Bill in looking out over the lake. "What's really got you so interested in the lake, Bill?"
"Aw, I'm wondering what the devil that Marilyn of mine is doing down beyond that shrubbery with your husband and Harry. We made a sort of agreement... "
Barbara nodded knowingly. "And you think maybe Marilyn's breaking it right this minute?"
"Oh... I don't know. She doesn't have to stay down here so long with 'em... She can't be all that interested in looking at the lake, can she?"
"Or Peter and Harry, either, huh?" Barbara replied, laughing briefly. "Why don't you go down and check on what they're all doing?"
Bill shrugged. "I can't be checking up on my wife all my life, can I? If I can't trust her, then that's just all there is to it."
"You can trust me, Bill," Barbara said, smiling hopefully up at him. "Why don't you come with me and let me show you how nice the cabin is that Peter and I got?"
Bill tore his eyes away from the hiding shrubbery down by the lake, and he smiled down at Barbara's pretty, consoling face. The smile was real this time, and so was the tenderness of his hand enfolding hers when, presently, he allowed her to lead him away from the corral.
It wasn't more than six or seven hundred feet to the cabin, and Bill was following Barbara up the low wooden stoop and into the small living room less than five minutes later.
Bill had hardly believed that Barbara really wanted to show off the cabin to him. He was only slightly surprised when she started removing her clothes and tossing the individual garments toward the center of the room as soon as he had pushed the door closed after stepping into the living room after her.
"I don't know about you," Barbara said through a broad grin, "but I have no intention of letting my spouse cheat on me without doing him the same way and with twice as much spirit."
Bill smiled at the natural manner in which she undressed. He admired her diminutive figure with growing interest, remembering what a wonderful time her cute, athletic little body had given him as they had watched the erotic movie in the common room of the Wanderlust.
"Surely you're not going to turn down a second helping of me, are you, Billy boy?" Barbara asked him, as she stood in only her snug green underpants.
"I'd have to be crazy to do that, wouldn't I? Why, for your information I might just have a third helping after I get done with the second."
Barbara stepped up-to him and snuggled her body against his, and she slipped her hand up to his waist and slowly unbuckled his belt and unfastened the catch of his pants.
She managed to grasp the tab of his zipper and ease his fly open; then she slipped two fingers into the flap of his briefs and took hold of the head of his cock.
"Ooh, you really do have a nice-sized one, honey," she murmured, peeling his foreskin up off the tingling red head.
She scraped a fingernail over the hardening glans, and Bill couldn't help groaning. Devotion to Marilyn was one thing, but he did have the natural responses of a red-blooded young American male, after all.
He pushed down his pants and kicked them off his ankles. As he began to remove his shirt and T-shirt, he thought, Anyway, why should I be devoted to her? Letting the two garments slip from his hands to fall on top of his pants, he found himself wondering idly why Marilyn had broken their implicit agreement.
Well, if that's the way she wants to do things...
He wrapped his arms around Barbara as she wrapped hers around him and once more snuggled against him, and the two swayed gently against each other for several timeless moments before Barbara drew away from him and scampered into the bedroom and hopped onto the bed.
Bill was beside her on the bed before long, and he immediately grasped her breasts and squeezed them so forcefully that rounded wedges of warm, rubbery titty flesh pooched up between his fingers. With a groan of developing passion, he pressed the creamy mounds together.
Then he got an idea: he would straddle her and fuck her between her titties for a minute or two.
"Ooh," Barbara moaned presently, finding his idea entirely to her liking, at least for the moment.
Holding her breasts tightly about his stiff cock, he began a slow, teasing rhythm of thrust and withdrawal.
Barbara's eyes seemed to glow with desire as she watched the bulb of his cock peel and unpeel as it was screwed repeatedly toward her face. She snaked her tongue out toward the slick-skinned plum-but she quickly retracted the wet tip before contact so she could urge hoarsely, "Not like this, Bill. I want you to fuck me for real."
Bill's cock felt tender and puffy. He knew he would cream all over her face and neck if he kept on screwing her between her breasts, so he decided to prepare to heed her urgently given advice. Sliding back quickly until he reached the proper position, he sat up suddenly on his haunches, his knees splayed wide and resting on Barbara's upper thighs, his cock waving about in an achy state of erection.
"Do you really want me to?" he asked, eye balling the bulge of her pussy.
"You know I do, Bill. I'm so hot and bothered-ooh... "
Bill thumbed the crotch band of her panties out of the way; then very lightly, teasingly, he kissed her inner pussy tissues and membranes with his bloated glans.
"Ooh, honey, get it in!" Barbara rasped. "Man, give it to me fast and deep! Fuck me like a madman!"
She spread her legs farther apart to make her swollen flesh blossom fully about the hard purple glans.
She gave out a harsh grunt of desire as she felt Bill begin to screw his erection into her. Her eyes opened very wide, and her face became lined with the tension brought on by the jolts of pleasure shuddering through her.
She gritted her teeth, and she began breathing so rapidly and so deeply that her throat quickly started to ache.
Emitting a long, racking groan, she began to hunch up as strongly as she could to aid in the impaling of her cunt.
Bill worked his cock relentlessly deeper and deeper into her, but at a teasingly slow speed.
"Oh, Bill, screw me! Get it in fast! Screw me deep!"
Bill drove hard into her; then he immediately began a swift rhythm of thrust and withdrawal, his erection advancing and retreating time after time with deep-reaching strokes.
"Ooh, it's lovely, Bill!" Barbara gasped, a shudder of ecstasy running through her.
She felt Bill's furious rhythm somehow transmitting itself to her entire midsection. Exhaling a guttural sigh, she started pumping her hips about his ceaselessly driving cock.
"Ooh, Bill!" she gasped.
The fire running wild in her pussy quickly became so intense that she began groaning nonstop, and strained to make each of Bill's thundering strokes more deeply penetrating than the last.
Then she was on the verge of coming. She could feel the lining of her vagina spasming violently about Bill's hard flesh, and she knew her passion would reach explosive proportions in moments.
"Oh, Bill, screw me raw! It's so good! So wonder-oh! Oh! Oh, my God, it's happening! I'm coming, Bill!"
Bill fucked her with abandon, his cock sawing so deeply into her that she was half afraid he was on the verge of jabbing into her womb.
Only moments after she had climaxed, she felt him beginning to come, his copious charges of semen tearing into her pussy with stinging fury.
Someone knocked at the door while Bill was in the midst of coming, and Barbara was able to control herself well enough to call out, "Who is it?"
"It's me... Joan," came the answer. "Can I come in?"
An impish glint appeared in Barbara's eyes, and she grinned and called, "Sure! Come on in, Joan!"
"Are you crazy?" Bill yelped shakily, his cock still spurting into Barbara.
"Certainly not," Barbara replied. "What's wrong? Haven't you ever tried a threesome?"
"Not that I can remember," Bill groaned, and collapsed on top of her.
CHAPTER NINE
"Could you tell me which of the cabins is assigned to Mr. and Mrs. Bill Stewart?" Bill was asking as Marilyn stepped into the office.
"That'd be you and the little lady just coming in, right?" Eddy Johnson asked in return.
Marilyn saw that Bill was going to turn around and look at her, and she considered turning around herself and fleeing from the office. She knew she'd have to face Bill sometime, though, hard as it was bound to be, and she decided it might as well be then.
Her face stayed flushed with shame until she saw that Bill, too, had a sheepish, guilty look about him. Maybe she had no reason to fear his judgment, if that look meant what it seemed to mean.
"Yes, that's right," Bill mumbled, belatedly answering Eddy's question.
"Well, your cabin's the second one down on the right as you go back outside."
Marilyn preceded Bill back outside; then she waited for him to catch up with her and fell in step beside him.
Reaching behind herself, she knitted her fingers together against the small of her back and stared vacantly at the ground. She would wait for Bill to speak first, she decided, since she didn't really feel like speaking at all.
_ Almost a full minute passed before Bill finally asked, "You okay?"
"Mm-hmm," Marilyn murmured.
"You didn't fall into the lake and almost drown... or anything?"
Marilyn raised her head and gave Bill a quizzical look. "What makes you ask a question like that?" she asked.
"Well, because you were down there so long... with Harry and that creep Peter."
Marilyn continued to look up at Bill's cold, immobile face; then suddenly she burst into tears and threw herself onto the ground.
"Marilyn, what's wrong?" Bill asked, quickly squatting beside her.
"I never meant for it to happen," Marilyn bawled, her voice so riddled by sobbing that Bill could hardly understand her. "It was all Harry's fault, not mine."
"What, darling?" Bill asked, his arm going tenderly around her neck.
"Oh, Bill, don't make me talk about it. It just happened, and I'm ashamed about it. But I swear it wasn't my fault!"
Bill kissed her cheek and murmured that it was okay, that she didn't have to worry about anything, that he loved her more than he could say and always would.
"Oh, Bill, my darling," she purred, turning her face to his, her tear-stained cheeks making her look even younger and more innocent than she was. "Why do things have to go wrong?"
Bill lightly kissed her lips at least a dozen times; then he hugged her fiercely and said, "Everything's all right, darling. I don't want you to worry about anything, and I don't want you to feel ashamed about anything, either."
"All right, Bill, I won't," Marilyn said softly, sounding touchingly childlike.
"I'm sure you didn't do anything any worse than the things I did, darling, so it's me who should be ashamed if anybody should."
"No, it's not you; it's them!" Marilyn said with sudden fierceness.
"Them?"
"Those other two couples-the men and the girls. Don't you see, Bill? They're... well, just not the same as us."
Bill stroked his cheek against hers and asked, "How are they different? What do you mean?"
"They just never learned right from wrong, if you want my opinion. But they probably think of themselves as more sophisticated than us."
"Yeah, you could have something there, darling," Bill said thoughtfully. "They do seem to feel that anything goes, and that it's all right." He nodded his head, as if agreeing with himself, as he reflected on the utterly wanton activities Barbara and Joan and he had engaged in so recently. "They've got a way of talking a person into something no matter how wrong it is."
"I know it," Marilyn said softly, thinking back herself.
"Best thing for us to do is just stay pretty much clear of all of them as much as possible. Don't you think so?"
This time Marilyn nodded.
"It's good with us, though, isn't it, darling?" Bill asked gently.
"Oh, Bill... " Marilyn sighed, wrapping her arms around him and holding him more tightly against her.
Bill helped her up, and they undressed and made love there under the moonlit sky, without shame or hurry.
Naked, they reclined on the thick carpet of well-tended grass, and Bill caressed his palms up and down her thighs, his lips mashed fiercely against hers.
Marilyn moaned with quick passion as she felt Bill's fingers sweeping up to her groin, the tips of them trailing between the throbbing, hair-lined flanges of her twat. She searched for his hardening cock, and she moaned into his mouth as she found the gristly flesh jutting between her splayed thighs, and wrapped her fingers around its twitching length.
Bill slid his lips across her face to the side of her neck, to her ear, which he nipped at gently with tremendous passion and tenderness.
He plowed his fingers into the maw of her cunt, and he sawed his fingernails across the fat red bud of her clitoris, making her howl and squirm violently under him.
So, he's going to start playing rough with me, is he? Well, I can play rough just as well as he can, and Marilyn set about proving it. She moved her fingers with quick, jerking motions on his cock, dragging his foreskin back on the shaft, then hauling it back up, exciting the slick purple glans until it pulsed and throbbed with fierce hunger against her fingers.
Bill had begun digging his fingers into the throat of her pussy, and she could feel her flesh tightening around his fingers as he continued to increase the pressure.
Even after all the sex action she'd endured so recently, she found it painful, but she was too horny to consider telling him to be more gentle. She squirmed salaciously under the pressure of his harshly penetrating fingers.
Bill started to move against her, and she knew that he was really into the spirit of what they were doing; she knew he was going to make love-real love-to her. He slipped his face down over her stomach and licked at her belly button; then his lips swept suddenly up and he was kissing and sucking the aching buds of her nipples.
Marilyn sighed, feeling his teeth nipping at her nipples. She began to squirm with greater fury under him, flailing her legs fitfully against the grass.
She wrapped her arms around his chest and held him possessively against her for a moment; then the urgency of her lust made her slip her hands down his back and over his buttocks. She fastened her fists around his heavy, dangling balls and milked rapidly at the swollen spheres; then she trailed the tips of her fingers along the terribly erect length of his cock. Catching at the thick column of flesh, she jerked it this way and that, stroking its massive, yearning head against her inner thighs.
"Oh, I want you bad, Bill!" she groaned. "I want this big thing in me! I want you to fuck me deep and wild!"
A choking sound came from Bill's throat, and she knew he wanted her as strongly as she wanted him.
Bill moved down over her, his lips caressing the small swell of her stomach, and he sought again the maw of her pussy with his fingers. Spreading the rubbery wet flanges, he started scraping the tips of his fingers over her slimy clitoris.
"Oh, darling... " he murmured.
He smashed his mouth against her cunt and began sucking her juices up into his throat while he stimulated her to an almost unbearable level by lashing his tongue repeatedly up and down the slippery sprout of her clitoris.
Marilyn's body went wild under him, and she gasped and grunted with violent passion as his lips and tongue grew more abandoned in their lascivious work.
Golly, he's going to eat me alive! He's going to suck on me down there 'til I'm dehydrated!
"Oh, darling! Darling!" Marilyn moaned. "Ooh, what a crazy mouth you have!"
On and on he sucked at her sizzling cunt, until she began to fear she would die from the breathtaking rapture of it.
She wanted so badly for him to start fucking her that she screamed out her need to him at the top of her lungs. She skidded her fingers rapidly, almost viciously, up and down his ramrod cock, trying to stimulate him so that he wouldn't be able to put off shoving his cock into her any longer.
"Fuck me, Bill!" she pleaded hoarsely, her head slamming violently against the grass. "I'm going crazy, darling! I'm so hungry for you I can't stand it!"
Bill raised his face and heaved himself forward onto her. "You can't stand it, huh?" he asked, grinning.
"No, I can't! Please, Bill!" Marilyn wheezed, almost breathless with desire. "Please don't keep me waiting any longer!"
A shudder ran through Bill as he slipped his arms about her, pulling her tightly against him.
Marilyn felt the head of his cock pressing into her cunt. She wanted to cry or shout, or something, it felt so good.
"Marilyn," Bill murmured, massaging the wet tissues and membranes inside her slit with his slimy purple knob.
"Bill," Marilyn whined impatiently.
"I want to try something new," Bill persisted.
He didn't bother to tell Marilyn that he'd learned the "something new" from Joan.
"What?" Marilyn snapped, hunching up futilely under him. "Why don't you start screwing me?"
"I want to screw you in your behind," Bill told her, and suddenly rolled off her.
"Oh, darn, Bill... What are you talking about, in my behind? That's crazy. You'd kill me."
"I would not. It might hurt at first when I'm pushing it into you, but before long you'll be getting an even bigger kick out of it than you get when I screw you the regular way."
Marilyn continued to pout in irritation at Bill, but before long he succeeded in persuading her to roll over and get on her hands and knees and let him at least try to fuck his cock into her ass.
"You just remember to stop if I say it hurts too much," Marilyn said fearfully as she lowered her head to align her bottom at such an angle that Bill would have easier access to her asshole.
She heard Bill sniffing with gusto at the faint odor emanating from between her cheeks. A feeling of nausea swept into her, and she turned her head to the right and tried to give a look of last-hope pleading to Bill.
"Aaahh," she grunted all of a sudden, feeling Bill's tongue beginning to wet down her tiny, writhing anus.
She rested her chin on top of her folded hands, and she tried to will back a blush that threatened to flame across her face. It was intensely exciting to get the treatment Bill was giving her, and it embarrassed her to realize that her painfully erect clitoris was jutting out at full length from between the puffy lips of her pussy.
Bill kept dragging his tongue through the crack of her ass for several minutes, and from time to time during those minutes he also squirted his tongue beyond her anus and rubbed its rough surface through her creaming cunt and over her clitoris.
By the time Bill finished his foreplay, Marilyn was so thoroughly turned on that she no longer felt embarrassment over her gross reactions. Her swollen clitoris was twitching with lust, and she was sighing and panting almost nonstop in impatience for every inch of what Bill had to feed her back passage.
Suddenly it was there: she could feel the rounded head of Bill's erection throbbing as it stirred against the wrinkled skin of her anus.
Bill grunted harshly as he managed to lodge the head of his cock securely against the slick elastic aperture. He hunkered up higher on Marilyn's back, reaching forward, toward her shoulders, and he thrust with sudden, feverish determination, jabbing the first several inches of his shaft into Marilyn's throttling asshole, bruising and tearing the delicate membranes just inside.
"Aiieee!" Marilyn cried, flashes of agony making her see vivid splotches of red in her closed eyes.
"Fight the pain," Bill rasped. "It won't last, darling. Remember that."
The shattering pain became even worse as Bill slowly but relentlessly screwed every inch of his cock into her.
For several moments as the impalement was nearing completion, Marilyn had a paranoid fear that she might not survive the cornholing. If Bill's merciless cock had about one more inch... But it didn't, a fact that prompted Marilyn to heave a sigh of relief even as the pain radiating from her rectum throughout her midsection was still going on, only very slowly settling down toward a dull ache.
Bill started pistoning his cock into her at an accelerating pace as soon as the pulsating shaft's root had felt the near-crushing bite of Marilyn's anus, and the jarring in-and-out charges made Marilyn's clitoris grow increasingly thick and long. Bill had been right, and before long she began groaning louder than ever with the need to come.
"Ah, Bill! Fuck! You're making me so horny!"
She groaned on and on, her lust skyrocketing as Bill quickened his strokes in approach of his climax. She shuddered and back-pumped beneath Bill, the small, firm mounds of her bottom quivering and clenching around the thick length of flesh incessantly pounding into her.
She could hear Bill grunting and salivating from exertion as he sawed his cock deep into her rectum, and she could hear her cruelly stretched asshole emit an exciting wet sucking noise each time it reversed the direction of its pursuit of Bill's wildly pistoning shaft. The raunchy sounds all added to her almost overwhelming passion, making her jerky movements in support of Bill's ravaging of her asshole grow even more savagely abandoned.
It couldn't go much longer. Even as Marilyn felt Bill's cock swelling and throbbing in her rectum as it thundered toward release, she realized that she was on the verge of coming.
"Ah, Bill, I'm about to come!" she groaned, her head spinning. "Ooh, darling-ahhh, yes! It's here! I'm coming now! I'm coming!"
Her loins were jolted by such intensely pleasurable sensations that she felt dizzy and weak and shot through with ecstasy well before her climax was over.
Bill started coming then. He had slid his hands far forward over Marilyn's shoulders and buried his quaking cock hilt-deep in her strongly clenching asshole, and now he was groaning with feverish delight as the blasts of his seed brutalized the deep lining of Marilyn's rectum and inundated the depths of her bowels so suddenly and so violently that steaming waves of the hot cream seared back around the shaft and fountained wetly out of her ruthlessly stretched anus.
Marilyn collapsed under Bill as she felt his greasy cock riding back through her rectum and then popping out with a gross sucking sound.
"It wasn't so bad after all, was it?" Bill asked as soon as he regained his breath.
Marilyn propped herself up with her cheek cupped in her hand and her body angled up on her side.
"You know it wasn't," she said softly.
Bill smiled with pride and said, "Darling, you look so lovely, lying there naked on the grass... at night like this, with the whole sky-oh, Marilyn, I want you again!"
Marilyn smiled back at him. This was the way one should feel on a honeymoon: contented, and filled with love, and wanting one's mate again and again.
"The regular way this time," Bill rasped, then threw himself against her with sudden fierceness.
Marilyn squirmed out of his grasp, then scooted down until her face was before his crotch. Gripping his cock at its middle, she slowly peeled his foreskin back off his glans.
"Marilyn," Bill grunted.
"It's sort of... cute," Marilyn murmured.
Then, abruptly, she pressed her lips about the swollen purple glans.
"Marilyn!" Bill gasped as she caught hold of him with her free hand, which she shot around to the small of his back.
She tightened the wet ring of her lips about the base of his glans, and she immediately brought her tongue into play, pressing its tip against the opening of his urethra, then tracing circles in slow sweeps down his glans.
She even used her teeth, presently, in stimulating Bill. After the tip of her tongue had teased every bit of the surface of his glans, she caught the purple bulb at its middle between her teeth, and she bit the spongy flesh again and again with such passion that Bill was forced to emit a string of yelps.
But Bill found himself experiencing considerably more pleasure than pain, and the main effect of the pain, anyway, was to season the pleasure with an added exotic dimension, so he didn't really mind "suffering" it.
"Ah, Marilyn! Marilyn! Bite it! Bite it-Marilyn! Bite it and suck-oooh... "
Marilyn was so strongly encouraged by his groans that she bit into his glans as powerfully as she could.
"AIIEEE!" Bill shrieked at the top of his lungs as he felt the cruel, grinding pinch of Marilyn's teeth.
Marilyn quickly reined in on her savage passion, but she kept sucking and tonguing away at the wounded flesh for another full minute.
She brought Bill's cock up to a state of urgent erection before she acknowledged his heated expressions of ecstasy by drawing her mouth up off his throbbing shaft and tipping her head back to stare at his severely drawn, almost comically bug-eyed face.
"Really got you in a state, haven't I?" she asked in a throaty near-whisper, saliva glistening on her lips and trickling copiously from the corners of her mouth.
Bill craned his neck and looked down at his towering column of sex flesh. The raw appearance of his glans affirmed the message he was receiving from the surging undulations of desire that were ravaging him, body and soul: he would have to mount Marilyn and fuck her with a vengeance, and right away!
Marilyn read in his eyes the intensity of his lust. He looked so intensely stimulated that she actually gasped; she was afraid he'd take her so violently he'd hurt her. But she was, herself, much too horny to give any thought to trying to avoid the savage fucking she knew he was about to subject her to. The throat of her pussy was on fire, and she wanted Bill's rampant erection to give it the deep-action hosing it lusted after so shamelessly.
Seeing Bill tear his eyes away from his cock and sweep them over her body, she lay quickly on her back and threw her legs wide apart.
She groaned the message of the hunger gnawing at her cunt, which was exuding gobs of hot juices that oozed down over her perineum and dripped to the grass from her asshole.
Bill moved to his knees between her legs and threw his torso forward and down over her and smashed his cupped palms over her small, throbbing breasts.
"Get it in me!" Marilyn pleaded, bucking up in sudden desperation. "I'm too hot for messing around, Bill! I want it in me now!"
Far too caught up by his thundering lust to be able to think clearly and so be able to make his attack one of direct, deep-plunging efficiency, Bill kept on kneading handfuls of her delighted titty flesh as he also kept on stabbing fruitlessly away, trying to find and penetrate her longing pussy.
His growing frustration piled more coals onto the fire of his lust. He was determined to begin feeding his massive, straining cock to that carnivorous hole of hers, and to do so now! His aching shaft was a red-hot pipe; he had to jab it deep into her, and to piston it in her gripping, sucking depths until...
"Please, Bill!" Marilyn whined, raising her head and shoulders and, reaching under his crotch, taking hold of his cock at the base of his glans and guiding the shaft to the core of her slit. "You don't know how bad I need it!"
Bill hunched down fast and hard, then held to his awkward position, his glans splitting the lips of Marilyn's vulva. Quickly satisfied that his cock was set and aimed correctly, he resumed down-hunching, and he felt the mouth of Marilyn's cunt yielding before his massive knob.
"Yes! Bill! Ooh, good, good... I feel it... darling... " Marilyn groaned, thrusting up under him.
Bill screwed relentlessly on into her tight wet hole, plunging the full length of his cock into her sopping depths. His lust controlled him completely, and he continued to drive and drive his heavy shaft until it was in to the last friction of an inch of its thick root and his testicles were pressed solidly against her cream-smeared asshole.
"Oh, what a nice stuffing!" Marilyn squealed, her head rolling jerkily from side to side. "It makes me shiver all up and down my spine, Bill, it's so good!"
Bill shortly began to withdraw. He kept his cock in reverse until he felt the mouth of Marilyn's vagina stretched about the flared crown of his glans; then he prodded his shaft in to the hilt a second time.
He drew back again, and again fucked in, and he was plunging his bone in her ecstatic hole, feeding it to her time after time, rushing toward the climax that was waiting to engulf him in just a few moments.
"Bill, darling, you're doing it to me again! You're making me! I'm coming, darling! Oh, golly, I'm coming hard!"
Then it was Bill's turn, and he stuffed her cunt to the gills and lay still over her, with only his hands moving, kneading her breasts.
His buried cock expanded impossibly, straining the walls of Marilyn's cunt almost to the limit.
He gasped and gasped, in time with the rhythm of his choosing cock, and he half believed he was going to cream out his very life against the neck of Marilyn's womb.
CHAPTER TEN
Marilyn awakened the next morning before her husband, and she dressed without waking him, deciding it would be nice to walk alone by the lake for a while in the cool early-morning air and do some thinking.
She knew she had a lot to think about. She wanted particularly to mull over her behavior so far during the honeymoon, which still disturbed her because she'd been unable to think of a good excuse for herself. "Bill's behavior had been just as shameful, she realized, but that didn't make her feel any better about her own.
When she reached the shore of the lake, she turned toward a small wooden pier she saw not far off. She saw that there was a rowboat tied up at the end of the pier, and she decided idly that it might take the edge off her worries if she did her thinking while rowing across the lake and back. The lake was placid and crystal-clear, and it looked especially inviting in the still air of the morning.
She had turned toward the pier only a minute before, when she heard someone hurrying over the moist sand toward her from behind. Immediately, she felt a little shiver of fear running through her. Was it Peter or Harry? she wondered. She hoped she had the strength of will to resist being seduced again; she didn't think she could stand the shame of betraying Bill still another time.
"Hey, Marilyn, wait up!"
Marilyn felt the touch of fear leave her as she spun around and smiled. It was only Barbara, and she hardly had to fear her.
"You had the same idea I had, huh?" Barbara asked cheerfully, and returned the smile as she caught up with Marilyn.
"What's that?"
"To boat across the lake and back, of course... work up an appetite for a nice big breakfast."
"Breakfast? You know, I never even thought about where we're all supposed to eat while we're here at the resort."
Barbara laughed gaily, then winked and said, "Had more important things on your mind, huh?"
Marilyn hated herself for blushing, but she couldn't keep from doing so. She knew Barbara's suggestive teasing was only meant playfully, but it still embarrassed her.
"Why are you blushing, dear?" Barbara asked. "You're not that shy, are you?"
Marilyn hung her head as she and Barbara resumed heading for the pier at a slow walk.
"Sometimes I am, I guess." Marilyn was silent for a moment, then added, talking to herself as much as to Barbara, "Maybe my upbringing was too strict."
"Well, it's kind of silly to be embarrassed so easily," Barbara said thoughtfully, her hand warmly encircling Marilyn's forearm for a moment as if, somehow, to take the bite out of her words.
"I suppose so," Marilyn replied softly, still looking down.
"Anyway... what I was going to tell you... we had our meal with that old man, Eddy Johnson, and his wife. I stopped by at their cabin, and his wife showed me the dining room. It's the biggest room in the cabin, with this big long mahogany table... and flowers and everything. Mrs. Johnson-she's a lot younger than the old man-she says we're going to have a nice, heavy breakfast. She says people ought to eat good breakfasts."
"Sounds like my mother," Marilyn said conversationally, looking up.
"Yeah? Mine, too."
Marilyn smiled to herself. Maybe she'd make a real friend yet during the honeymoon.
Marilyn was untying the rope that held the rowboat at the pier when Barbara spoke again, bringing up a subject Marilyn would rather not have talked about. Marilyn was a little surprised that Barbara had the nerve to bring it up; she knew it was the last thing she would've chosen to talk about. But then, Barbara was clearly less inhibited.
"I guess I ought to apologize for the way I behaved with your husband on the yacht that one time."
Hoping the subject would be dropped quickly, Marilyn made a sound that signified nothing except that she'd heard Barbara.
"I know what I did was disgraceful... "
"It's all right," Marilyn said, knowing she was expected to say something, to do more than just grunt. She was surprised at her boldness when she heard herself adding, "You didn't do any worse than I did."
"You mean with Peter? But I know it was me who did it first, Marilyn."
Marilyn sat down opposite Barbara in the rowboat and watched as Barbara lifted and swung out the oars, then lay them in their guides and started rowing away from the pier.
"And don't think it was your husband's fault, either " Barbara said presently. "That Bill of yours is a fine man.' "I know he is," Marilyn said softly.
"No, it was my fault entirely, and I'm not going to claim otherwise."
"It doesn't matter."
"The thing is, that movie got me so horny I lost my sense, Marilyn. I just couldn't control myself, I mean. I got so horny I just had to... well, you know."
"I'm not holding anything against you, Barbara. It's all right, really. You should just forget about it, like it never happened."
A touch of sadness showed in the look of Barbara's face as she said, "I wish I could. I really do wish I could."
"Why can't you? I said I don't-"
"Because what made me do it is still the same. Just because the experience is in the past... Marilyn, do you know what I'm talking about?"
Marilyn shook her head.
"What I mean is that I'm oversexed. I get horny way too easily."
Barbara's tone was so intimate and so warmly friendly that Marilyn was emboldened to be just as open in the things she said. She found it easier to talk with Barbara, now that Barbara had been so humbly and touchingly self-revealing.
"I think I'm like that, too," Marilyn said, her eyes focused unwaveringly on Barbara's.
"You do?"
"Sometimes I do, anyway. I know I start wanting to... you know what... start wanting to awfully quick sometimes... even when I shouldn't want to at all."
"I've been oversexed for years," Barbara said, "practically back to when I was a little girl. And you want to hear something funny... something that's even worse?"
"What?" Marilyn didn't try to hide her sense of expectation. She was more than a little shocked at herself for relishing hearing Barbara's intimate confidences.
Marilyn was shocked also, to feel soft pulsations in her loins that made her aware she was beginning to be a little sexually stimulated. She was certain it was naughty of her to react so, but she couldn't help it.
And even if it was naughty, it was still enjoyable. In fact, she realized dimly, it was the more enjoyable for being naughty.
"I used to think I was a Lesbian," Barbara said.
"What's that?"
"Oh, you're kidding." But Barbara could tell by the look on Marilyn's face that she honestly didn't know what a Lesbian was. "You really are an innocent little thing, aren't you?"
Marilyn lowered her eyes and managed, just barely, to keep from blushing again.
"Are you going to tell me what it means or aren't you?" she asked, her slight embarrassment making her irritable.
"A Lesbian is a girl who prefers girls to men. Sexually, I mean. That's the way I used to think I was. I even had a girl friend, if you know what I mean, not so long ago. Her name was Alice Mae, and I really thought I was madly in love with her."
Marilyn again looked into Barbara's eyes. "Honestly?" she said in a whisper, as if she were afraid someone would hear them.
"I guess the main reason I married Peter was to force myself to stop seeing Alice Mae. But now that I have married him, I know that I was wrong: I don't prefer girls. I guess it was just adolescent dopiness that I'd talked myself into... that, and because I'm oversexed, like I said."
"Did you... do things with-" Barbara laughed and said, "Marilyn, you wouldn't believe all the things we did. We just couldn't keep away from each other. We made love practically all the time." Giggling, she added, "One of the things we used to do was to go to indoor movies and sit way back in the balcony and mess with each other just to be daring. We really did some crazy things... And we had a lot of good times, too, to tell the truth."
Marilyn pretended to herself that she didn't realize the crotch of her underpants was growing increasingly moist. Her snugly held cunt was throbbing and creaming, but she pretended that her interest in Barbara's activities with Alice Mae came from nothing more than natural curiosity.
"What sort of things did you do with each other?" she asked. "I mean, with both of you being girls... "
"Does the subject interest you?" Barbara asked in return, her eyes narrowing. "You don't mean to tell me you've found yourself attracted to girls in the past!"
"I never said that!" Marilyn said heatedly, her face flushing partly because of her irritation over Barbara's bantering tone, but mostly because of her shame over her dim recognition that Barbara's last question disturbed her considerably more than it should have. "Just because I'm curious about what you did-"
"How curious are you, Marilyn? You know, I could find you awfully attractive if I let myself... "
"Just what's that supposed to mean?"
"Would you like me to show you the sort of things Alice Mae and I did together?"
"What are you talking like that for?" Marilyn asked, pouting. She felt on the verge of tears. "You have no right to suggest that... that... what you're suggesting."
Barbara brought the oars back into the boat, then laced her fingers together in her lap and gazed intently at Marilyn.
"I just mean if you'd really like to know. It's nothing to be ashamed of, if you want to find out what it's like."
Marilyn was so flustered by now that she scarcely knew what to say or do or even think. She squeezed the edge of the plank she was sitting on .o hard her fingers turned white, and she lowered her eyelids because Barbara's eyes seemed to be burning right into her head.
"You're talking crazy," she said in a husky, tremulous voice.
She wished she could stop her body from trembling. What was happening to her? If she didn't get control of herself, she'd burst out crying... or something...
"One of the things we did a lot was kiss, the same way a man and a girl kiss," Barbara said. "Would it be all right if I kissed you? It wouldn't hurt you, Marilyn, and there'd be nothing wrong with it. You'd just find out what it's like when two girls kiss."
Marilyn said nothing. She was afraid to open her mouth, afraid of what she might say. She knew, though, that she did want Barbara to kiss her, and not simply so that she'd find out what it was like.
Barbara took Marilyn's silence for assent. She slid her buttocks forward to the edge of her seat, then tipped her torso forward and sent one of her hands around to the back of Marilyn's head. Placing her other hand, apparently nonchalantly, on Marilyn's thigh, she moved her lips slowly closer and closer to Marilyn's.
Marilyn whimpered when she felt the warmth of Barbara's breath blowing against her lips. Feeling Barbara's palm pressing against the back of her head, she sighed and let all resistance flow out of her body.
Barbara kissed her so passionately and for such a long time that Marilyn began to feel faint. She had neither the will power nor really even the desire to protest when she felt Barbara's tongue pushing against her teeth, trying to invade her mouth; she simply opened her mouth, and she emitted a muffled groan as the tongue was screwed deeply in.
Marilyn felt her torso being urged irresistibly backward. As she reached behind and supported herself with her hands, one on each side of the boat, she heard Barbara getting up and coming forward, between her yawning thighs, on her knees in the bottom of the boat.
Barbara had little difficulty pushing the front of Marilyn's short, loose skirt in bunched folds up against her stomach. Her hand shot down to Marilyn's cunt, and she began lightly frigging her swollen, wet labia through the band of her underpants running between her legs.
"This is one of the things we did," Barbara husked, having ended the long, deep-licking kiss. "Do you like it?"
Marilyn could only squeeze her eyes more tightly shut and groan.
"Why don't you lie back now, and I'll really show you the things we did?" Barbara urged.
She backed off, then gripped Marilyn's thighs just above her knees, and drew her along, so that shortly Marilyn's bottom had inched completely off the plank and she lay supine with the plank supporting her at the middle of her back.
Marilyn knew she shouldn't let Barbara do the things she was doing, but she couldn't bring herself to show the slightest opposition.
When Barbara's hands urged her to raise her legs and bring them together high in the air, she did so without a moment's hesitation. And she said nothing when she felt Barbara rolling her pants off her body.
She was utterly in Barbara's control. She knew it, and she didn't care. Not now; she could reproach herself later over her submission. All that mattered now was that she experience the wanton delights Barbara and Alice Mae had shared.
"Now you're really ready to find out what it was like with me and Alice Mae," Barbara said, her eyes glued to Marilyn's grossly exposed, tantalizingly winking and creaming pussy as Marilyn brought her legs heavily back down, flanking her.
Barbara sent both her hands to Marilyn's gaping cunt. With the thumb and index finger of one hand she spread the lips far apart, and with the middle finger of her other hand she frigged the tiny ring of the mouth of her vagina. Then all of a sudden she drove the full length of the frigging finger into her sticky passage.
"Oh, Barbara!" Marilyn gasped, spreading her thighs even farther apart.
Barbara corkscrewed her finger in Marilyn's vagina for a few moments to stoke the fires of the hot, tight hole; then she yanked the finger all the way out.
"If you only knew how horny you're going to be before I get through with you," she rasped.
She inserted her fingers between the small, firm mounds of Marilyn's behind, and she forced the resilient mounds so far apart that she could see Marilyn's asshole stretching open below her pussy. She tickled the slick brown pucker for almost a minute, until Marilyn was gasping and bucking with heat; then she pulled her hands quickly clear of the round white cheeks that seemed to exist to protect the tender hole between them.
She jabbed a single middle finger into Marilyn's pussy again, and Marilyn groaned harshly and squirmed feverishly on the support plank as the finger was screwed deeper and deeper into her throttling passage.
"You really have a gorgeous little twat," Barbara said thickly, her eyes ravishing the glutinous tissues and membranes surrounding the finger she was now pistoning at full tilt into Marilyn.
Barbara again drew her finger out of Marilyn's hole. She massaged the puffy, hair-lined lips of her pussy for a few moments; then she squeezed them against each other, with Marilyn's clitoris jutting up between them in a state of fierce erection.
Then Barbara changed tactics again. She took hold of each lip separately and tugged them far apart, exposing to her hungry eyes every little ridge and groove and fold of the glistening flesh between the lips.
"Oh, not so hard!" Marilyn groaned. "You're hurting them!"
Releasing the lips at last, Barbara screwed both the middle and index fingers of one hand into the throat of Marilyn's twat, and with the thumb of the same hand she began furiously frigging Marilyn's clitoris.
Barbara plowed the fingers of her other hand into Marilyn's ass and began roughly frigging her anus in time with her frigging of her clitoris.
Marilyn sensed that her clitoris was straining, powerfully outward and throbbing like a small, petrified heart as Barbara kept frigging the blood-red nubbin, and she groaned as she felt her pussy spewing a thick flow of juices that spilled down over and between the cheeks of her rump.
"You're getting your asshole all messy," Barbara said hoarsely.
She pushed the tip of her index finger in strongly against the tiny ring she'd referred to, and she began screwing the finger through the resisting ring and, presently, deep into her rectum.
"Ooh, what a gripper!" Barbara gasped.
She screwed her index finger even deeper into Marilyn's back passage, and Marilyn groaned wildly as she squirmed and bucked on the plank under her back.
Barbara stabbed another finger into her, and the pain made Marilyn give out an ear-splitting scream.
Barbara wasn't about to let Marilyn's momentary pain cramp her style. Ignoring her scream as well as she could, she began to saw her two embedded fingers furiously in Marilyn's strongly clenching rectum.
Barbara's breathing grew ragged and harsh as she watched her fingers screwing away. Ramming the fingers back and forth in the greasy socket of Marilyn's ass, she leered with lustful delight and began, finally, to pant due to her exertions.
"Oh, golly, Barbara, I don't think I can stand much more!" Marilyn squealed. "You're getting me so hot I feel like I'm about to burn up!"
Barbara yanked her fingers out of the orifices of Marilyn's body and backed farther away from her. And, leaning forward and down, she dragged her tongue through her slit. Coming upon Marilyn's clitoris with the tip of her tongue, Barbara licked the twitching sprout around and around from its root to its tip.
"My God, yes!" Marilyn gasped, feeling Barbara's teeth suddenly sinking into her clitoris. "Bite the thing! Ooh, this is crazy!
"Chew it up, Barbara! Bite it off!"
Barbara soon freed Marilyn's clitoris, for she was sure the little organ couldn't withstand for very long the harsh treatment she'd been giving it. Snaking her tongue out of her mouth once more, she licked down through Marilyn's slit until her tonguetip came to the mouth of her vagina.
Marilyn trembled uncontrollably, and her groans sounded more and more like those of some wild jungle animal in heat. She could feel Barbara slowly but relentlessly penetrating her cuntal passage, and the feeling made her dizzy and actually almost sick with the intensity of her lust.
"Barbara! Barbara!" she cried, her head flopping about fitfully in the air. "You're driving me mad! Oh, dear Lord! Go deeper! Fuck me with your tongue!"
Marilyn's pussy was spasming through and through, and its thousands upon thousands of supercharged nerve ends all seemed to be on the verge of exploding and ripping her loins to shreds. Her vagina was nursing strongly on Barbara's tongue, which was plowing repeatedly into it, and copious juices were gushing from about the pistoning tongue and slopping noisily to the bottom of the boat.
Barbara pushed Marilyn's thighs even farther apart so that she could penetrate even deeper into her cunt with her tongue. She jammed her lips against the hair-lined flanges of Marilyn's vulva, and as she continued to screw, she sucked up literally gobs and gobs of her sizzling cream.
Marilyn was just about to scream as Barbara kept on screwing her with her maddening tongue, and sucking her so strongly that the inner flesh of her slit seemed on the verge of being skinned alive. What choked off the scream before it had a chance to leave her throat was the sudden impact of the rowboat on the far shore of the lake.
Barbara withdrew her tongue and lifted her head and looked around. The boat had drifted the rest of the way across the lake, and Barbara's quick mind soon told her how to capitalize on the occurrence.
"Get up, Marilyn!" she said excitedly, getting up herself and jumping out of the boat onto the moist sand where the water lapped at the shore. She pointed to a nearby grassy clearing that was almost completely surrounded by shrubbery and trees, and she added, "We're going up there! And you're really going to learn how girls sex it up with each other, Marilyn, 'cause we're both going to take all our clothes off!"
Though Marilyn had a head start, it was Barbara who finished stripping first, after the two young brides had scampered into the clearing. Barbara didn't wait for Marilyn to catch up with her, either; she resumed molesting Marilyn right after taking off the last of her own garments, with Marilyn trying to get her sandals off without sitting down.
"Wait a second!" Marilyn squealed, pushing Barbara's hands away. "You're going to make me fall over!"
Barbara stood back and imperiously set her arms akimbo. Watching the comical scene Marilyn played out, she had to laugh.
"You seem to have gotten rid of all your embarrassment and inhibitions, but it looks like there's a streak of primness in you that's determined to hang on."
Naked at, last, Marilyn whirled on Barbara and said, in a tone of mock solemnity, "It's not primness; it's just being ladylike."
Then she threw herself against Barbara and squealed, "Now you just wait till I get you as horny as you got me!"
She sent her fingers skiing down Barbara's back and right on to the melons of her bottom.
Barbara relaxed her body, letting herself be pulled close by Marilyn.
"Ooh, you sweet bitch!" she squealed when she felt Marilyn's fingers digging into the enticing divide of her buttocks.
Marilyn drew Barbara down to the grass, and immediately she set her fingers foraging between Barbara's awkwardly splayed thighs.
"Marilyn!" Barbara yelped, squirming and jerking fitfully, but taking care not to bring her thighs together. "Christ! You really must be hot as a firecracker!"
Marilyn showed the accuracy of Barbara's remark by her unrestrainedly lustful actions: she cupped her hand over Barbara's pudgy slit and quickly plunged her index finger into the sucking depths of her vagina, causing Barbara to buck up hard and high with a sizzling jolt of rapture.
At last, deep in heat herself, Barbara strained back with one hand and tried to return the favor Marilyn was treating her to. She dragged her fingers over the puffy flesh at Marilyn's crotch, prodding as vigorously as she could, for the moment, at the slimy maw of her pussy.
Marilyn hunched forward, half covering Barbara, to give her easier access to her smoldering cunt.
Barbara, in turn, caught at the lips of her vulva and pinched them in against the gristly sprout of her clitoris.
"Ooh," Marilyn moaned, actually shivering with the intensity of her lust.
Barbara squeezed away at the drooping folds of Marilyn's cuntal flesh for several more moments; then all of a sudden she pulled the folds apart and jabbed her gathered-together fingertips into the juicy wound.
Overwhelmed by an abrupt feeling that she couldn't endure a single second more of the furious frigging Barbara was giving her pussy, Marilyn cried out and whipped her midsection in a torturous arc, freeing her cunt from the torment of Barbara's fingers.
Marilyn let her body fall solidly on top of Barbara's. After worming both her hands down to the pouting flesh at the bottom of Barbara's stomach, she sank all her fingers into the wet slit and began working away at the inflamed inner cuntal lips with all the energy she could bring to bear.
If she thinks I'm just going to lie here like a rag doll and not take part in the action any more, thought Barbara, her lips curling up into a leer of wicked determination, she's got another think coming!
While Marilyn remained preoccupied at her twat, Barbara plowed her fingers back into her sticky gash and set right in stroking and pinching the length and breadth of her come-hungry sex flesh more violently than ever.
"Oh, my goodness!" Marilyn grunted, so much more jacked-up by Barbara's expert frigging that she fairly sprang up off her, coming to rest flat on her back, her legs thrown wide apart.
Barbara literally dived onto her, her hands flying to the springy little mounds of her titties, which she squeezed cruelly in a fit of lust.
"Noooo!" Marilyn squawked, struggling to get away. "You're hurting me, Barbara!"
Barbara bent over and jammed her mouth around one of Marilyn's fiercely erect nipples. Holding the one breast with both her hands, she made the nipple poke up provocatively high, and she went to work on it with all the gusto of a fat king at a royal feast, her lips, her teeth, and especially her tongue, all doing their parts to turn the swollen bud into a petrified little chunk of raw, red meat.
Pausing in her salacious work, she raised her face and panted out, "Really makes your insides boil, doesn't it, Marilyn?"
Wedging one of her hands down to the soggy red flesh at the juncture of Marilyn's thighs, she resumed frigging her almost brutally.
"Oh, you're driving me out of my head! Barbara-oh, man, it's too much! I'm going to come so hard my belly button's going to get blasted out into space!"
Barbara sat back on her haunches for a moment; then she redoubled the ferocity of her attack on Marilyn's cunt, using both hands instead of one.
She tugged the fat little outer lips away from each other with such sustained tension that Marilyn's inner cuntal flesh pooched out, dripping hot juices, in search of the vigorous attention it yearned for.
And the pearly wedge of succulent young meat was given every bit of attention it yearned for.
Barbara backed off, then shot her head down and slammed her face against Marilyn's crotch. Yanking the bruised flanges of Marilyn's pussy even farther apart, she crammed her tongue into the gaping wound, provoking Marilyn to gasp and grunt with mindless wildness.
Marilyn found herself crying out for mercy, pleading with Barbara to stop-or her very bowels, she believed, would come apart at the seams. But the truth was that the last thing she wanted was for Barbara to stop eating her. The ecstasy she was experiencing was so strong it was actually painful, but she knew that her real desire was for it to last and last.
Barbara hauled the rough surface of her tongue over the inner flesh of Marilyn's cunt time after time, stimulating the extremely sensitive cuntal nerve ends so powerfully that what she was doing amounted to a kind of erotic torture. Her tongue penetrated every crevice, was dragged over every meaty ridge... licking... licking...
Spasms of unholy rapture ripped through the tender flesh of Marilyn's pussy, and she panted and gasped and grunted, on and on, her loins feeling as if they were on fire, as she waited for her climax to roar into her.
"Aahh... Barbara... Barbara... " Marilyn groaned, shuddering from head to toe, her body turning into a seething mass of hot flesh. "I'm coming! Now! Now! Suck! Oh, Barbara, I'm coming to pieces!"
"Boy," she sighed presently, shakily sitting up, and moving her head from side to side in slow motion to signify that words were inadequate to describe what she'd just been through.
"Good?" Barbara asked, smiling warmly.
Marilyn nodded, then said, "And now it's your turn," and she grinned back a wicked, animated smile of her own.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Barbara had just finished tying the rowboat at the small pier and was reaching down to help Marilyn up onto the pier when she saw that the lightness, the lack of inhibition, had gone out of Marilyn's look. Marilyn appeared to be even more weighted down by feelings of guilt than she had been when Barbara had come upon her a half-hour or so earlier.
Marilyn's look made Barbara want to curse her oppressive ideas of what was right and wrong in the sphere of sex. Where was the harm in what we did? Barbara asked herself, angrily certain that Marilyn's unhappiness reflected an unfair judgment of them both. Just what the hell is wrong with two people having a good time? she wondered.
"Hey, why do you look so low all of a sudden, Marilyn?" she asked, trying to sound bright and cheerful, as if she hoped that her tone of voice would lift Marilyn's mood.
Marilyn stepped up onto the pier and tried to look Barbara in the eye. She found that she couldn't do so: she had to lower her face.
She didn't want to talk, but she knew Barbara wouldn't let her continue to brood in silence.
She wondered how she had done the things she'd done. All she felt now was shame and embarrassment, yet she'd actually enjoyed sex with Barbara with complete abandon.
It was amazing, she thought, how a person's outlook could change so drastically under the influence of lust gone out of control. She wished she could keep from doing the things she did. More than anything else, she wanted just to be a "good" girl, as she'd been taught to be. But what could she do when the base instincts of her flesh took control of all her feelings? It was as if her own body were her worst enemy-and how could she keep her body from reacting as it did?
"I... I don't know what to say," she mumbled. "I'm sorry about what we did, Barbara." She felt her eyes growing moist. "Maybe it was all my fault. I want you to know I'm not blaming you. I don't know... Sometimes I think I just must be no good. I don't know why it is, but it seems that I can't help doing things I shouldn't do, even though I know they're wrong."
Barbara laughed at her, but tenderly. "Now, you're not going to go shy and silly on me, are you?" she asked, giving her wrist a warm squeeze. "You were doing so good back across the lake, really putting your heart into it... not to mention your tongue, dear. You're not going to start in sulking and having regrets and everything, are you?"
"I'm ashamed of myself," Marilyn said, stung by what she took to be Barbara's lack of sensitivity for her feelings. "And you should be ashamed of yourself, too."
"I thought you were taking all the blame."
"Well... that doesn't mean what you did was right."
"I don't agree with you at all, Marilyn; I don't think either of us did wrong. If you want my opinion, I think it's good for people's mental health for them to be uninhibited with each other."
"But that wasn't just being uninhibited, what we did," Marilyn said insistently as she stepped down to the sand after Barbara and started back along the shore beside her.
"Oh? Then what was it? I suppose you think it was a perversion?"
"It was! You don't say it wasn't, do you?"
"I most certainly do. All we were doing was having fun, and nobody can tell me there's anything wrong with that "
"But it was Lesbianism... like you said," Marilyn protested.
"It was not Lesbianism; it was just having fun. I said a girl's a Lesbian if she prefers sex with other girls. You don't mean to say that now you think you are that way, do you?"
"Of course not," Marilyn answered softly, wishing desperately that Barbara would drop the whole conversation.
"Or could it be that your real feeling is that sex itself is dirty?"
"You have no right to say that!" Marilyn said.
"Listen to yourself... so fiery and so indignantly righteous," Barbara retorted, an amused, indulgent smile playing on her lips. "Since I never accused you of anything-since I only asked you a straightforward question that naturally came to mind-I'd like to know why you felt you had to react with such an outburst. Do you think maybe I rubbed a raw wound?"
Marilyn pouted. "All you are is being sarcastic, and don't think I don't know it."
Barbara whirled before her and grabbed both her wrists. "I'm not, Marilyn!" she countered heatedly. "All I'm doing is trying to straighten you out. Can't you see that?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"It's not right to make yourself miserable for no good reason, and that's what you're doing. For God's sake, Marilyn, can't you just accept life and sex and yourself the way they are and the way you are? You've got a right to live, you know."
"I never said I didn't."
"Yeah, but you don't seem to think you have a right to live a life that's worth living."
"Oh, that's not fair, Barbara. I-"
"It's not? You know what your ideas of right and wrong amount to? It's right to feel lousy and depressed and everything, but it's wrong to feel happy."
"I never said anything like that."
"You didn't have to. I know how it works, 'cause I've known plenty of people with your kind of views. Just tell me this: Have you ever gotten on your back, like you are now, about something you didn't enjoy-about something that bored you or made you unhappy when you were doing it?"
Marilyn thought about the question for quite a few moments, but she couldn't recall a single instance of the sort Barbara referred to. As far as she could recall, every time she'd ever felt she had done something wrong, the "wrong" had been something she'd enjoyed doing.
"Do you see what I'm getting at, Marilyn?" Barbara pressed, still holding her wrists. "Going by your feelings about right and wrong, if it's fun it's wrong. Maybe that's an oversimplification, but I bet it's not as much of an oversimplification as you think."
Marilyn forced herself to look at Barbara. "Well, what do you think of as wrong?" she asked.
"I guess I'd say hurting people is wrong, and that includes hurting yourself. Doesn't that sound to you like a fair test of what's wrong?"
"You're saying it's wrong of me to feel that what we did was wrong?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying, and I'm saying it because it's so."
"But what about my husband... about Bill? Even if I could talk myself into looking at things the way you do-"
"If you're worried that Bill will find out what we did, you can stop right now. The only way he'd find out would be if you were to tell him, because I promise you I won't."
Marilyn grinned warmly, if a little shyly, at Barbara. She'd been fairly confident that Barbara had no intention of telling Bill, but even so she was glad to have her promise.
"You shouldn't even have to worry about what your husband might think anyway," Barbara said. "There is such a thing as getting one up on him, you know."
"What do you mean?"
Barbara smiled, and proceeded to tell Marilyn exactly what she meant...
Barbara was still smiling when she knocked on the door of the cabin that had been assigned to Bill and Marilyn.
"Just a minute," Bill called from inside.
"It's me, Bill... Barbara."
Barbara hadn't expected to have such an easy time manipulating Marilyn for her own advantage a second time, but she guessed that Marilyn was even more confused and filled with self-doubt than she had supposed.
Marilyn was still at the lake shore. After explaining to her what she'd meant by "getting one up on" Bill, Barbara had talked Marilyn into agreeing to let her seduce Bill again, and Marilyn was supposed to come and barge in on them in a half-hour.
Barbara hadn't been surprised that Marilyn had agreed to the plan, but she had been surprised at how quickly she had agreed to it. Maybe letting Bill and me have a rematch is her way of atoning for what she and I did, Barbara had reflected. Or maybe she gets an unconscious kick from thinking about her husband screwing stray stuff.
Right now, Barbara was too preoccupied with her own concerns to bother herself over Marilyn's possible oddities. Why Marilyn had agreed to let her seduce Bill again didn't really matter; what mattered was that she had agreed.
"Oh... Barbara... come on in," Bill invited. "I'm freshening up in the bathroom right now, but I'll be with you in a minute. You don't happen to know where Marilyn's gone off to, do you?"
After entering the cabin and pushing the door closed behind her, Barbara answered, "As a matter of fact, I was talking to her just a few minutes ago. There's a rowboat tied up to a little pier at the lake, and she said something about rowing across the lake and back to work up a good appetite for breakfast."
Bill thrust his head and the upper part of his bare torso out of the bathroom doorway and treated Barbara to a bright, boyish grin of amusement.
"That wife of mine is sure a kooky kid in some ways, isn't she?"
Barbara returned his grin as she admired his broad, strong chest. She thought of telling him that she didn't really feel like talking about Marilyn, but she decided against it.
"Did you stop by for any special reason?" Bill asked.
"Yes. I thought I'd have a go at seducing you again."
Bill chuckled, and disappeared into the bathroom again. He knew Barbara was just joking with him.
He was wrong... as he found out less than a minute later. Coming out of the bathroom, he found Barbara standing completely naked, her clothes scattered around her in the middle of the living room.
"Don't just stand there, "Barbara said. "You wouldn't keep a lady waiting, would you?"
CHAPTER TWELVE
"Hey, Marilyn," Peter called, "I thought you might be down there!"
Marilyn turned and looked up away from the lake and saw that Peter was walking at a fast pace toward her, and she felt a sense of uneasiness sweeping into her. She hoped he only wanted to greet her good morning, but she was afraid there was more on his mind than that.
"Good morning," she said presently, when he had come near and stopped before her.
"Morning," Peter said, his voice as cheerful and sprightly as the look on his darkly handsome face. "You're looking as handsome as ever."
"Thank you," she said formally, without warmth, then turned and looked back out over the lake.
"I wanted to see you because I'd like to apologize."
"What makes you think you owe me an apology?"
"I owe you an apology because I got you half-drunk then practically forced you to let me fuck you on the yacht, and because of my part in helping Harry get you so horny you couldn't resist either one of us."
Marilyn felt shivers running up and down her spine in response to Peter's shockingly frank language. How he could use such language was beyond her understanding, but she knew that hearing him do so made her feel warm and itchy at the juncture of her thighs, a sensation that was by no means unpleasant, even though she couldn't help feeling it was naughty.
"Do you have to talk that way?" she asked.
"What way?"
"Those words... "
"You mean like 'fuck'? Marilyn, are you still offended by honesty in talk about sex?"
"There's a difference between honesty and vulgarity," Marilyn insisted.
"Oh, don't try to throw that line at me. We fucked on the yacht, and we fucked up the shore of the lake there... and fucking was exactly what it was both times."
"If you're going to keep saying that, at least I don't have to listen," Marilyn huffed, and turned to walk away from Peter along the shore.
Peter stood for a few minutes watching her buttocks twitch under her snug clothes as she stalked away; then he hurried after her and grabbed her by the elbow and spun her around.
Marilyn's eyes were blazing at him. She shouted, "You let me-" Peter wasn't really in a mood to waste time matching words with her, so he cut her short by pulling her against him and smashing his lips down on hers, his arms snaking around her and his hands winding up, pressing firmly against her buttocks. He kissed her so passionately that Marilyn soon gave up struggling and relaxed against him, her mouth opening to let in his tongue.
When at last he ended the kiss, Marilyn's face was deeply flushed and she had to lower her eyes confusion.
"You had no right to do that," she said, her voice hardly above a whisper.
"You enjoyed it, didn't you?" Peter retorted, enjoying her embarrassment.
Marilyn gazed blankly straight down between them and said nothing. What could she say? If she said she hadn't enjoyed it, she'd be lying; and if she admitted that she'd enjoyed it...
She was acutely aware of his hands on her buttocks. He had started to stroke the firm mounds gently, almost idly.
"I didn't only want to apologize," he said, "I wanted to know... I was wondering if you might have seen Barbara."
Marilyn wriggled against him, feeling his fingertips wandering all over her bottom.
"I... " No, I can't tell him where she is. "No... no, I'm sorry; I haven't seen her. Did you... did you have a fight or something?"
"A fight? Me and Barbara? What on earth would we fight about? We understand each other perfectly. No, she just went out for a little walk. I can't understand where she got off to. You see, we have a sort of appointment."
"An appointment here? And before breakfast?"
Marilyn wished he would stop working his fingertips over her buttocks. She could hardly help but respond in the way she knew he wanted her to respond, and she didn't want to respond. She didn't want to respond now anyway. She still had to barge in on Bill and Barbara-to "get one up on" Bill, as Barbara had suggested. She had to believe it was important for her to do that, or she wouldn't have let Barbara talk her into going along with the idea.
But Peter's fingers kept on and on, boldly digging between her cheeks.
"What kind of appointment is it?" she asked shakily, unthinkingly pressing her midsection against his loins.
"Did I ever tell you what a nice-feeling little ass you have, Marilyn?"
"Oh, Peter, please don't talk that way."
Peter laughed briefly, then said, "About that appointment, it has to do with a certain peculiarity of Harry's. Some people would call it a peculiarity anyway."
"What is it?" Marilyn asked, only half listening.
Peter's fingers had already so stimulated her that she could feel the band of her underpants growing moist against her cunt. She was no longer sure she wanted him to stop what he was doing. She was no longer even sure that she was very interested in barging in on Bill and Barbara. Images kept drifting through her mind that gave evidence of a much stronger, more immediate interest.
If only her buttocks weren't so terribly sensitive...
"Well, the thing is, Harry likes to have other people watching, you know," Peter answered her question evasively.
"Watching?" Marilyn prompted.
"When he's doing it," Peter said. "You know... "
"Oh, you're joking," Marilyn said, her voice a squeal because his fingers were digging right into the crack of her ass now, pushing in the rear of her underpants and several folds of her dress. "Ooh, stop, Peter... "
"The thing is, I wanted to screw his wife... to screw Joan... and he said he wouldn't have any objections if I just did this one thing for him."
"Ooh, Peter... What thing?"
"Of course, I could keep hunting for Barbara and hope I'd find her in time... "
No, he can't do that, Marilyn thought. He might... might find her.
"See, Harry and Joan are going to be in the patch of woods up beyond the line of the cabins, where the trees haven't been cleared off-for a nice fresh-air screw to wake 'em up, as he put it-and I told him I'd talk Barbara into coming along with me to watch them. Only I can't seem to find Barbara... "
"Oh... all right... all right... " Marilyn sighed.
"All right what?"
"I'll go with you in Barbara's-oh, Peter, don't poke so hard!"
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The woods were not thick. Marilyn and Peter made out Harry and Joan even before they passed beyond the first of the trees up beyond the line of the cabins.
"There they are," Peter said unnecessarily, holding Marilyn's hand as the two made their way through the trees toward the couple.
Harry and Joan were both naked. Harry was on his knees behind Joan, who was on her hands and knees. Resigned, Marilyn watched them without embarrassment; it was clear to her that they had already made love once on the carpet of leaves, and that they were about to do so again.
The noise of Marilyn and Peter approaching undoubtedly was heard by Harry and Joan, but neither of the latter two made any sign of having heard. Marilyn assumed they were pretending not to be aware that they were being watched. Why they chose to do that, she wasn't sure, but she guessed the pretense spiced the "odd" thrill-Marilyn thought of it as odd anyway-they got from making an exhibition of their lovemaking.
"We'll stop here," Peter said.
Marilyn sat down beside him. They were twenty-five or thirty feet from Harry and Joan, behind several small bushes clustered between two trees. Harry and Joan could see them, if they chose to look in their direction, as easily as they could see Harry and Joan, but their presence nearby wasn't so obvious as to be distracting to the naked couple.
When Harry closed in on Joan, Marilyn saw that he was going to fuck her in the ass. She didn't know whether to feel sympathy for Joan or jealousy of her. She remembered Bill's doing it to her that way, and a shiver ran through her. Whatever she felt now, she knew she didn't want to miss seeing what was about to take place.
Harry was obviously intending to achieve a quick and thorough penetration of his wife's rectum. After directing her to lower her head to her hands, he said, "Now get your ass up good and high, honey."
Moments later he was moving on his knees in closer, then closer still, to the divide between Joan's splayed cheeks. He guided his cock with one hand until its head smacked neatly into contact with the little pucker of her anus.
"You are ready, aren't you?" he asked thoughtfully.
"I guess I am if I'll ever be," came Joan's muffled reply.
Harry gripped her cheeks and pried them apart, and he began to apply pressure with his thick, fully hardened cock.
Joan groaned, and she tried to keep from growing tense and resistant under him.
Harry tightened his hands more determinedly on the rubbery mounds of her bottom, his fingers digging into her tender flesh so strongly that even his nails started poking into her, piercing shallowly right into the flesh of her muscles as he ground his teeth together and strained for all he was worth to drag the tensing mounds as far apart as possible.
Though he didn't really relish the idea of subjecting Joan to any abuse whatever, let alone abuse of such sustained ferocity, he was, nevertheless, pleased when he heard her anus at last emitting barely audible sounds of yielding as its resistance was worn down and it began slowly to widen.
"Push as hard as you can," Joan grunted bravely, her lips pale and painfully taut. "You've got the hole growing good now, and I'm sure you can fuck your way through if you give it all you've got."
She pressed her face against her hands and squeezed her eyes shut. It took all her will power to keep from crying out in response to the flashing anguish searing the little aperture of her back passage. Sweat was pouring off her face, and she was panting so hard that she sounded less like a human being than like some wounded, whining animal.
But she wouldn't cry out! She was determined not to cry out!
"Ooh, it's starting to go in!" Harry groaned. "But it's so thick; you're so tight, honey... If I can just manage to tug the cheeks of your ass just a little farther apart, I think that'll do it."
"But it's impossible!" Joan cried. "Yet even as the words passed from her mouth she was trying to relax enough to enable him to do that "impossible" thing. "You've got me stretched so wide-open already... "
"It's working, though, honey! I'm getting them farther apart! It's starting to go in easier!"
"Ooh, no more; no wider. Don't hurt me, Harry... "
"It's okay, honey. This is good enough now. As soon as I get another wind, I'm going to fuck in so hard I'm bound to get it all the way in."
Marilyn watched intently as his massive, throbbing erection was driven like a post into Joan's rectum. The brutal column of flesh tore into her back passage more and more quickly.
Marilyn heard the rustle of clothing behind her, and she was dimly aware that Peter had gotten up and was stripping. She paid little attention to the sounds of his doing so, and she didn't turn around to watch him; she was too interested in what was taking place before her to be distracted. She didn't even give any conscious thought to why Peter was stripping.
"It's going all the way in now!" Harry shouted, feeling as if he were achieving the accomplishment of a lifetime. "Nothing can stop it!"
"Aiieee!" Joan screamed, salivating copiously all over her hands. "I can't take it! I'm stuffed to the gills! Harry, you're goring me like a bull! You're going to burst my whole rear end!"
"It's okay, honey. It's okay, darling," Harry murmured tenderly. "Just this last little bit... just this last inch and it'll be all the way in... "
"I can't take any more! God, Harry, I can't take what you've already got fucked into me!"
Marilyn leaned forward on her knees, her head over the bushes. She strained to see Joan's apple-sized anus being penetrated fully by Harry's cock. What she saw made her eyes widen to a comical extent: Harry had stuffed every last fraction of an inch of his cock into Joan's bowels, and now he seemed to be trying to force his swollen testicles in after the thick shaft.
"Ooh, Harry, Harry, it's too much! It's too much! You're ruining me, Harry!"
"No... no... it's good," Harry husked. "You just relax. Don't you worry. It's good, honey."
"It hurts, I tell you!" Joan retorted, her tone one of pleading. "Please, Harry! You've got to take it out!"
"That's what she says now," Peter whispered in Marilyn's ear, "but you just wait 'til she gets used to having that big bone of his crammed up her. She's going to come like she's never come before!"
Marilyn felt his hands slipping under her armpits. She didn't resist when she realized he was drawing her up onto her feet.
And she didn't resist, either, when she felt his hands gliding sensually over her body as he began to remove her clothes. She simply relaxed against him, letting him do as he wished.
Harry started screwing Joan's rectum, pistoning his cock into her time after time. Ignoring his own obvious state of extreme excitement, he devoted himself entirely to pumping her lust higher and higher. He sawed his cock savagely in her asshole, driving it faster and faster, yet making every stroke as punishingly thorough as the last.
"No, no, no, Harry! Not so much!" Joan shouted. "Please! It's so big! It hurts when-oh, God in heaven!"
"Marilyn!" Peter yelped abruptly, made almost viciously in heat by his viewing of Harry and Joan's unorthodox lovemaking.
He threw himself between Marilyn's legs, tumbling her onto her back. Clasping her thighs near her knees, he swept them up, over her torso, and down, until her knees hung over her shoulders.
"I want to eat out your cunt so bad, Marilyn," he husked, his eyes boring into the juicy red maw of her vulva. "You're so beautiful. You don't mind if I eat your cunt for you, do you?"
Marilyn clasped her thighs just behind her knees and drew them as far apart as she could.
"It's all yours, Peter," she rasped. "I shouldn't let you, but... just see that you do a good job."
Peter lay almost completely prone, his body extending directly away from her butt. Only his chest and head were elevated, supported by his elbows and forearms drawn up under his shoulders.
Before going down on Marilyn's pussy, he dragged the tip of his tongue repeatedly across the elastic pucker of her asshole. Then all of a sudden he jerked his face up and jammed the fully widened oval of his lips over the whole of Marilyn's cunt flesh and began lashing his tongue through the glistening tissues and membranes.
"Ah, give it to me, Peter!" Marilyn groaned. "Lick the skin out of the thing!"
Peter couldn't help being drawn by her jutting clitoris. He inched forward, his stomach pressing against the head of his erection and dragging it through the leaves, and his impatience drove him to attack the fleshy stalk with full fury from the very start. He chewed on the achingly sensitive organ, grinding and digging his teeth into it from root to tip.
He kept treating the spastically twitching little hard-on like a stick of unruly gum until he sensed that Marilyn was on the verge of coming; then he released it from his teeth and gave it a fond little smile of amusement because it looked like a used hunk of beef jerky.
Marilyn heard Joan squeal, "Oh, I can't believe it, Harry! I'm going to come out of my mind!"
Joan started coming at a moment when Harry had back-pumped his cock almost all the way out of her rectum, and her midsection immediately began bucking and gyrating so furiously that even the head of the shaft was dislodged from her hole so violently that Harry went head over heels and sprawled out flat on his back.
"Oh, honey, I'm coming, too!" Harry groaned, and Marilyn tipped her head back and was able to see, through the lower twigs of the bushes, the copious gobs of his seed arc up from the extreme tip of his jerking cock and splat on his heaving abdomen.
As soon as her rectum had been freed of the last of her husband's cock, Joan had started flopping about on the leaves. She rolled over and over, her legs flailing uncontrollably, and she moaned in response to the jolts of ecstasy shooting through her.
Peter had returned to chewing on Marilyn's fiercely jacked-up clitoris, pressing his tongue into service and lapping ferociously at the raunchy sprout, but he again brought his mouth away, this time as Marilyn was shaking on the very edge of orgasm.
He smiled inwardly, and he started moving up over Marilyn. He was confident that she was far too horny even to consider offering him any resistance.
Marilyn happened to meet Barbara a while later on her way to her and Bill's cabin from the patch of woods.
"Hey, you were supposed to barge in on us," Barbara said in a tone of feigned reproach.
"I know," Marilyn said softly, averting her eyes.
"What happened? Don't tell me you forgot!" Barbara laughed at her teasing speculation.
"No. I... I just couldn't make it."
"Something came up, huh?" Barbara said, winking suggestively. "I guess all that time I spent with Bill... and everything we did... it was just all a waste then, huh?"
"I'm sorry," Marilyn mumbled.
"Oh, that's okay. It wasn't really a complete waste. In fact, I guess I ought to admit that I enjoyed it."
Marilyn looked up at her and found herself smiling. "Did you really?"
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"Could I get you a cup of coffee?" Lydia Janeway asked Marilyn, at the same time indicating with a nod of her head that the two should sit on the bench that stretched along one side of the back wall of the Wanderlust's bridge.
"No, thank you, Mrs. Janeway," Marilyn answered, following Lydia to the sofa.
Sitting down beside the large, friendly woman with the deep yet somehow gentle voice, Marilyn reflected briefly on what had prompted her to come to the bridge of the yacht and call on her.
What was bothering Marilyn was a highly personal matter, and under normal circumstances she was hardly likely to consider bringing up such a matter with a stranger. But the circumstances weren't normal, she felt; she felt different than she ever had before-and it was how she felt that disturbed her.
And it was how she felt, she guessed, that made her look upon Lydia as someone considerably closer than a stranger, even though she'd only talked to the woman a few times. There was something maternal in the manner and bearing of Captain Tony's wife, it seemed to her. Marilyn found Lydia's look of maturity and experience appealing. She felt that she needed the advice of such a woman,-and she hoped Lydia would be able and willing to oblige her.
The trouble was, she didn't quite know how to broach the subject she wanted to talk about.
Barbara's talk with her that one morning had made her feel less ashamed of herself over her behavior, but it hadn't entirely rid her of her shame. After her bout of infidelity with Peter while the two had watched Harry and Joan in the patch of woods, she had told herself-and had really believed it-that she would be faithful to Bill thereafter. It hadn't worked out that way, and neither had Bill been faithful to her after Barbara's visit. During the past few days at the resort, she'd made love so often to so many people-including, once, even the old man, Eddy Johnson, the manager of the place, who had proved to be surprisingly spry for his age-that she was still a little sore. She felt used, yet she didn't really feel bad. More than anything else, she felt disturbed. She no longer blindly accepted the moral standards that had been hers for so long, but she didn't know what standards she should replace them with.
"Lydia's the name I answer to," Lydia said warmly, briefly touching Marilyn's hand in a tender gesture of concern. "What's troubling you... Marilyn?"
"Well... I guess it's the way our marriage has been going... Bill and me," Marilyn answered uncertainly, her eyes searching Lydia's as if in the hope of finding help in expressing what she had to say.
"What do you mean, dear?"
"Oh, I don't know. I just don't know." Marilyn lowered her eyes. She watched her hands, seeing nothing, as she laced her fingers together in her lap. "I guess it's just that everything's been happening so quickly... and everything's changed so much."
Lydia smiled and said, "I think I'm beginning to get an idea of what you're talking about, Marilyn. You expected everything to be just like it is in the storybooks, didn't you? You expected it to be all love, love, love, and no arguments or anything, huh?"
"I guess... But the main thing-"
"I know: you thought neither of you would ever again be attracted to another person. Right?"
Marilyn started crying quietly. "Nothing's like I thought it would be. We've both been... both cheated on each other... again and again." She bit her upper lip as she forced herself to look into Lydia's eyes again. "It sounds terrible, doesn't it?"
"Don't be silly, dear," Lydia answered, draping her arm across the back of Marilyn's neck. "Things are never the way they are in the storybooks, but that doesn't mean that the way things really are is worse. I can remember when Tony and I got married- God, about a thousand years ago... "
"Oh, you're not old, Lydia," Marilyn protested politely.
"Well, I've got a few years on you, dear, you know. And you want to know something else? When Tony and I first got married, I was just as naive as you... maybe even more so. But I haven't been completely faithful to Tony over the years, and I'm sure Tony hasn't been completely faithful to me, either. I used to be bothered about it, but I've learned to accept the fact that people aren't always perfect in that way or any other way... and maybe it's better that they're not. Maybe I appreciate Tony more for having made love to other men, do you see?"
"But... our honeymoon," Marilyn said softly, feeling that she had to challenge Lydia's rosy view of her and Bill's behavior if she were to have any chance of coming to terms with herself, of understanding herself.
"So what?" Lydia countered. "Do you want to feel guilty, Marilyn? A honeymoon is rough on the emotions of any couple-no matter what you thought it would be like. It wouldn't surprise me to learn that more unfaithfulness goes on during the honeymoon than at any other time in a marriage, at least when a lot of couples are thrown together so that there's plenty of opportunity for unfaithfulness."
"Then you don't think what we did was shameful... the way Bill and I behaved on our honeymoon?"
"Of course not, dear. And you shouldn't think that, either. That kind of attitude can only wreck a marriage, if you want my honest opinion."
Marilyn didn't know what to say. She wished she knew what her own opinion was, but all she was really sure of was that she was still not entirely at peace with herself, or with Bill.
"Have you talked things over with your husband?" Lydia asked. "I mean, have you really talked about everything... your feelings, and his, and the things both of you have done that seem to be getting you down?"
"Well, we've talked, yes... "
"But not much, huh?"
Lydia stood up saying, "You stay here, and I'll go hunt your husband up. Maybe With you two together, and with an outside party like yours truly helping to sort of spark the talking and do what I can to get you through any... well, rough spots... maybe that way you two can get things settled between yourselves."
Marilyn started to get up, but Lydia put her hand on her shoulder and said, "No, you stay here; I'll get him."
"But... I've bothered you so much already. Do you think it's really necessary?"
"Aw, stop it, Marilyn. You haven't bothered me one bit, dear. Now, you just sit there and relax, and I'll be back with your husband before you know it."
"I hope he doesn't get mad at me for coming to you," Marilyn said, the corners of her mouth turned down with worry. "He might think-"
"I won't let him get mad at you," Lydia said through a grin, and turned to go.
Captain Tony cut the speed of the Wanderlust by half, then locked the helm so that the course of the yacht wouldn't vary, shortly after Lydia had left the bridge. Turning away from the panoramic view of sea and sky out beyond the bow of the yacht, he faced Marilyn and smiled at her when she looked up at him.
"Hi," he said, starting to cross to the bench. "I couldn't help but hear what you and Lydia have been saying... "
"I hope we haven't bothered you," Marilyn said thoughtfully.
"No, you haven't," Captain Tony said, sitting down beside her. "Don't you worry yourself on that score."
Captain Tony prided himself on being a quick and perceptive judge of character, and he was confident that he had heard enough from Marilyn to enable him to have a good chance of bending her to his will. And if Marilyn had given his face a searching look, she might have seen that his will was to seduce her, and to do so as rapidly as possible.
He had already decided that his best approach would be to use a kind of social shock treatment on her. Because she'd avoided all but the most "proper" language in talking with Lydia, he was fairly sure she found the more blunt sex-related words "naughty" and exciting.
"I was thinking that I might be able to give you some good advice about what's been bothering you," Captain Tony said in a confidential tone of voice.
"Oh?" Marilyn said in return, looking at him, honestly curious about what he had to say.
"You don't mind, do you? I mean, I'm not butting in where I shouldn't, am I?"
"No, of course not. I'd be glad to hear your advice."
"Well, could you tell me something first?"
Marilyn nodded. "Of course, if I can."
"I'd like to know what your feelings are about fucking."
The muscles of Marilyn's face went suddenly slack. Her look of perplexity was rather comical in its openness, though she hardly meant it to be comical. Captain Tony's voice had seemed so clear, his words so unmistakably what she'd heard them to be; yet she couldn't believe he'd actually asked her what she thought he'd asked.
"What?" she asked, furrowing her brow.
"I asked you what your feelings are about fucking."
Marilyn's face turned crimson with mingled outrage and embarrassment.
"Why, how dare you... " Her voice died on her.
Captain Tony moved quickly, almost flinging himself at her. He squatted down before her, poised unsteadily on the toes of his shoes, his hands clamped over her shoulders.
"Now listen to me," he said, shaking her slightly, his eyes burning into hers. "If you never learn anything else, learn this: actions mean nothing by themselves. It depends on their context what they mean-what you should think about them. And fucking is only an action. Do you understand me? Fucking is only an action. It's not necessarily dirty, and neither is the word necessarily dirty. Do you understand me?"
Marilyn didn't know what possessed her, but she found herself nodding fitfully, her head moving in short, sharp jerks.
"You do? Then let me hear you say it.
"F... f...
"Say it!"
"F-fucking."
"Say it again."
"Fucking."
Captain Tony released her shoulders and rubbed away the beads of sweat that had quickly formed on his forehead.
"There, you see? God didn't strike you dead after all, did he?"
"No," Marilyn answered softly.
Her face was deeply flushed, and her whole body seemed to be suffused with a warm glow. She knew she was in the presence of a truly commanding personality-even more commanding than Harry-and she found it strangely exciting.
Captain Tony stood up and sat back down beside her on the bench, so close that his hip was pressing against hers.
"Your trouble is that you seem to think you ought to hold everything in," he said. "But it's no good to hold everything in, Marilyn."
Marilyn nodded. She understood. And she believed.
Leaning toward her, Captain Tony said, "Look, Marilyn, I'm confident something can be done... that I can help to straighten things out between you and Bill. But you've got to trust me, Marilyn. You do trust me, don't you?"
"I... Yes... yes, I do."
Captain Tony gave her a warm caress of a smile. "I'm glad. And your trust isn't misplaced, believe me. I have you and your husband's best interests in mind."
"But I'm not sure I under-"
"You will, Marilyn."
Without another word, Captain Tony got up again and moved around to the side of the bench, getting onto his knees facing Marilyn, his hands on the bench arm.
"What... what are you doing there?" Marilyn asked him.
"Remember that you said you trust me," Captain Tony replied.
He slipped one of his hands nonchalantly over the arm of the bench and into her lap, high on her thigh.
"But-"
"And I told you that you should trust me," Captain Tony said insistently, and began moving his hand-slowly, slowly-stroking her thigh.
His hand grew more and more busy in her lap, and soon he was slowly, methodically, determinedly working the front of her dress farther and farther up her thighs, bunching the gathering folds nearer and nearer her stomach.
"What are you doooing?" Marilyn hissed in a barely audible voice, transfixed by Captain Tony's boldness, her eyes intent on his hand as it progressed up her thighs.
"Trust me, little thing," Captain Tony rasped. "I'm older than you; I know what I'm doing."
Soon he had bunched every bit of the front of her skirt against her stomach, and now he grasped her nearer thigh and yanked it up toward himself. After draping her leg over the arm of the bench, he drove his hand down to her crotch and started right in frigging her through the narrow band of her underpants. He made her whole midsection squirm and twist, his fingers digging away uselessly at the maw of her cunt. Quickly deciding that he wanted to feel her pussy flesh unfiltered, he let up for a moment and fingered aside the band of her underpants; then he lowed his fingers directly into her slit and screwed three of them into her vagina, causing her entire body to shiver and quake in response.
"I shouldn't let you do this," Marilyn groaned, shutting her eyes and letting her head lie back.
"Yes, you should," Captain Tony said, his voice even deeper. "Take my word for it. I told you that. It's you and Will I'm thinking of."
"Bill."
"Yes, Bill."
Captain Tony's three penetrating fingers ripped back and forth against the silken lining of the throat of Marilyn's twat faster and more violently than ever, yet even so he wasn't satisfied that her lascivious sensibilities were being given the full treatment he figured they needed to prod her past all thoughts of resistance. He was a past master of the art of inflaming girls and women to fever pitch, though, and he knew just what to do. He snaked his other hand-his free hand-inside her underpants against one cheek of her ass, and he probed briefly with the tip of his index finger against her asshole, then all of a sudden plunged the finger hilt-deep into her rectum.
"Oh!" Marilyn yelped, her buttocks shooting far up off the bench.
Captain Tony began to screw her ass as rapidly as he could with his index finger, and he continued to plow three fingers into her cunt as well.
"Ooooh... " Marilyn groaned.
Now... Captain Tony thought.
He drew his fingers out of her various channels of lust; then he fairly bounded to a position at the front of the bench, on his knees between Marilyn's legs. Taking hold of both her thighs, one with each hand, he draped one over the arm of the bench and angled the other one sharply in the other direction; then he reached under her thighs to her hips and worked her primary points of interest so far forward that her buttocks were poised precariously half on the bench and half-suspended up over the floor.
"Now you're really going to learn what I meant when I said fucking isn't necessarily bad," he said in a husky voice, his hand fumbling at his fly.
"Oh, Cap'n Tony," Marilyn sighed expectantly.
And then, presently: "Oooh, Cap'n Tony!"
"Do you like the way I'm fucking you?" Captain Tony asked.
"It's heaven!" Marilyn exclaimed.
Captain Tony continued to fuck her for another minute or two; then abruptly he said, "Hurry and get undressed and we'll finish on the floor!"
Soon Marilyn lay naked and spread-eagled on the floor, and she bucked and jerked and gyrated her hips under Captain Tony, who had quickly stripped and then resumed fucking her.
Marilyn had stopped the brooding of her conscience. She had put her complete trust in Captain Tony.
She shifted her deeply flushed face to gaze up at him, and a fresh burst of energy in his thrusts made her pant and grunt up at his face.
Captain Tony was gripping her furiously jumping hips, and he was feeding the hugely swollen length of his cock to her throttling cunt time after time, plunging the hardened flesh ever deeper into her.
Nor was he satisfied simply to work his erection raw in her clammy passage. Wanting to make this more than just another fuck, he dug with his fingers into the long, dark valley between her buttocks, wedging the creamy mounds cruelly far apart and proceeding to molest the wrinkled pucker of her asshole with the tips of his middle fingers.
"Ooh, dear God! Dear God! What are you dooing to me?" Marilyn groaned from the scalding depths of her throat.
Already she felt like screaming for joy, so tremendously potent was the ecstasy running wild through her flesh.
Continuing to piston his cock into her insatiable hole, Captain Tony peered down intently at the meaty, wet, red place where their bodies were joined. He particularly delighted in the sight of the flared, glistening lips of Marilyn's pussy, which seemed to be nursing frantically on the brutally thick length of flesh shafting into her.
Marilyn was moaning with abandon, and it wasn't long before her face went taut, hard, streaked by the diffused swaths of subdued crimson that told of the turmoil in her bloodstream as her climax zeroed in on her cunt.
"Keep fucking me! Keep fucking me!" she begged as she felt Captain Tony beginning to empty his seed into her.
While she was caught up in the violent throes of coming herself, the door was pushed open and Lydia and Bill entered the bridge.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"Well, I'll be damned!" Lydia screamed, her face reddening as she watched her husband still sawing his cock into Marilyn's spasming cunt. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing, Tony? Goddamn, I step out for one minute-"
"You get off my wife!" Bill exploded, stomping toward the two on the floor.
"No, let 'em be," Lydia said, grabbing him by the arm. "If they think they can do that to us, we can do the same thing to them... "
"Yeah... yeah," Bill said, facing Lydia. "I'll teach that little bitch of a wife of mine... "
Bill was startled by the speed at which Lydia stripped. He stripped himself, but before he finished, Lydia took hold of his cock, wrapping both her hands around the thick, strong column.
Intrigued by the responsiveness of the shaft, Lydia began pistoning her hands on its throbbing length, stripping and unstripping the purple head's foreskin, which dragged and dragged at the intensely sensitive, nerve-charged ring of the flared corona.
Bill could stand only so much of such treatment, and it wasn't long before he had very nearly endured the limit. He fought Lydia's hands away from his cock; then he tumbled her onto her back beside Marilyn and Captain Tony and threw himself on top of her.
He happened to glance down at Marilyn, and he saw that she was smiling at him.
Taking her hand, he returned her smile and said, "At least we're not cheating behind each other's back now."
"No," Marilyn sighed, squeezing his hand as she squirmed under Captain Tony.
It was something, she mused. A kind of honor within dishonor. Maybe it was all a modern couple should hope for... in such sophisticated times.
She groaned. Captain Tony was going full speed ahead.
