They had met at a party that the senior partner in the firm had thrown for Dr. John Simmons, professor and old friend. Jill still remembered the first time she had seen her future husband-and marriage at that hour was the farthest thing from her mind. He was tall and thin and held a rather professorial demeanor with the pipe and the heavy eyebrows.
"May I freshen your drink, Miss?" he had said to her first. He had said it with the same tone perhaps as he would have said, "I think I shall marry you, my dear." They left the party together later and it was to be the beginning of a constant pairing. He explained as they rode to his apartment that he was on sabbatical leave, was staying in the city for a year to finish a historical book he was writing. She was used to chit-chat from the girls in the secretarial pool and smooth lines from the men, and now she didn't quite know how to even carry on small talk with him.
And to her surprise he had not even tried to make love to her that first time. She found herself curiously stimulated by him and frustrated at the same time. He talked very calmly, fixed her a drink, and just sat looking at her with an even smile. He took her hand and stroked it gently once and asked her to tell about herself. And she had talked then, for hours it seemed. The drinks were getting her a bit more than tipsy. She found herself wanting to be caressed, handled by this strange man; a fire had been kindled inside her loins, just by his coolness.
"What's with you?" she asked finally. "Don't you want to make love to me? Don't you want to undress me? Don't you want to see my body?"
"Not at the moment," he smiled.
"I don't think I like you," she snapped.
"Yes you do."
Openly she ran her hands down her sleek sides and around the swell of her breasts. God, she was aching. Never had she been treated this way by a man. A tease, she thought. That's what he is, a goddamn cunt tease. He's probably impotent. She had heard about these strange, perverted-type intellectuals. Maybe he was just playing perverted games with her.
"Would you call me a cab?" she asked. "I think I need to go home now."
"Certainly," he nodded. "But come back again tomorrow night, would you?"
"No. I don't want to. You make me nervous."
"Yes, come back tomorrow."
"I won't," she shook her head.
And the next night, a weekend starting, she refused to think about it until she found herself hailing a taxi for his apartment. As she rang his bell she told herself that she had come again just out of curiosity. He opened the door and she saw the same calm smile and the sedate expression, the pipe there in his strong mouth as usual.
"Do you like Chinese food?" he asked. "I've cooked up something special for you. Take off your shoes."
Some tinkling Oriental music was playing and a faint odor of incense was about the room; he fixed her a drink that she had never had before; it was strong and warmed her up completely. He seated her beside a very low table and served several dishes of meat and vegetables prepared in the most delicious manner she had ever tasted. She consumed several glasses of the strong drink, and later he moved beside her, lighting his pipe.
"What are you thinking, my dear?" he asked.
"You're so ... so different..."
"Not really."
"Please, do something," she muttered. "Don't you want to make love to me?"
"Very well."
Very meticulously he took her into the bedroom and took off her clothes. She was inebriated completely-both by the drink and the strangeness in all this. She stood very still as he removed the dress and the slip; she leaned forward as he unhooked the bra to let the very firm breasts free. He was so close that she could feel his breath on her swelling breasts. And yet he did not touch the surging mounds. He slipped his fingers inside her brief panties and urged them down and she stepped out of them nervously. The heavy mound of dark hair around her vagina seemed to glisten and pulsate with excitement. She felt many little ripples of chills shoot through her taut buttocks and go directly to the hot spot of passion there in her quivering cunt.
"For goodness sake!" she pleaded. "Do something to me! I want you to fuck me!"
He laughed out then and stepped back. "In good time, dear Jill, in good time. Don't rush things so. One must remain in control. Nothing is done well in a hurry."
"Some things are, you bastard!" she shrieked, unable to control her growing hurt.
And then he removed his own clothes and led her limply to the big bed. He pulled her across the bed and held her firmly for several minutes, and then brought his mouth to hers firmly. She pushed her tongue deep into his mouth and jabbed hard several times against his. She pulled her head away and made him kiss her rising breasts; she pulled his hands around her naked hips and tried to get him to grasp her ripe thighs and the glistening ass that yearned to be kneaded, pummeled, torn into harshly.
She pulled his head down to her flat belly and crushed it hard into the heaving navel with both her hands; she bit madly at his neck and scratched at his back with her long fingernails. She could feel his measured breath now down in her pubic hair; she wished longingly now that he would put his hand there, into that boiling mesh of her vibrating cunt. But instead he only kissed gingerly at her heaving belly that arched up flat and hard against his smooth face. He ran his tongue into her navel and made little jabbing strokes with it until she thought she was going to explode.
"Please, will you please ... " she stammered.
"Be calm," he answered blandly.
She began stroking at his flanks, his fine-hard body fitted there against hers. She found his balls and rolled them around firmly between her fingers; she let her hand move up the base of the big penis. "Oh, God!" she groaned. It was a very big one and she ached to have it plunge deep inside that very second. Always before with other men she was able to set the pace of lovemaking, because they were always so hot for her; she could manipulate any aroused man until she was ready for her own peak. But this teacher man was different and she didn't understand it-she felt herself despising him for punishing her so and at the same time she couldn't keep from wanting him to crush down upon her, to finish her, to defeat her.
"Oh, God! Will you do something! Pleasssssss!"
"No!" he barked back and tried to pull away.
She pinned him with her long legs and pulled him back until he was mashing hard against her again; she hunched upward with her pelvis against his expanding cock. She felt the blood-gorged tool against her thighs, the balls pressing into her waiting vagina. Roughly she pulled herself upon his body, all the while bumping her wet thighs furiously against his belly, his chest.
"Go down on me, " she whimpered. "God, that sets me on fire. Please, darling, eat my cunt..."
"No!" he barked again. And this time he seemed incensed. He flipped her body over and began kneading her taut, apple-firm buttocks; he pressed and mashed and squeezed until he had made little whelps come. It was horribly painful but in her growing sensual glow it only served to blow her up even higher.
"Yes, hurt me!"
"Why?" he asked. "Does that really turn you on? Baby, you've got some bad hangups."
"I got just one hangup, you bastard! I want that thing of yours. You must put it all the way in me now!"
He smiled, almost as though it were a game. He took her legs and pronged them high into the air, like a man with post-hole diggers, and then taking dead aim he rammed his hard cock into the throbbing lips of her waiting vagina. There was only a momentary stoppage at the entrance and then he was diving deep into the love canal, down through the misty cavern of her hot being. She sprang upwards to engulf the iron-tipped tool and felt it beat into her womb. Quickly she locked the legs around his middle and hunched for him, but he held her steady and still held the mysterious smile on his face.
"Are you going to fuck me, John?" she pleaded in a little girl tone.
"Like this, you mean? No beginning, no middle, no end? Just coupling up like a pair of animals, Jill? Is that all you know?"
"That's all I want to know now, damn it! Come on, for Christ's sake! You're teasing my cunt to death!"
"Well, all right then, baby, you asked for it!"
She had been grinding her syrupy thighs into his all the while and pushing up madly with her cunt against the hard hole that had impaled her. Deep down in her being she hated him now; he had attacked her and the way she let her impulses control her drive for orgiastic release. But she knew she would have to keep him entrapped now; she could not let the passive cock loose.
He began slowly pumping his cock up and down inside her cunt and she tried to match his rhythm, but she was way ahead of him. Slowly he ran his hands down her thighs and underneath the quivering little ass. He cupped the ripe buttocks harshly and held them still until he mounted an even higher rhythm of cock blows. Her pussy was gushing with foam and it seemed to grow hotter and more abundant as he steadied his cock and drove deeper. Now his hands on her ass were urging a fine, clean lifting, like matched pistons. She took it up and began to match his strokes blow for blow. Soon his hands were pulling hard; she felt his fingers massaging the wetness around her tiny anal opening and into the corners of her saturated cunt.
"I'm going crazy, John! I'm going to come all over you!"
"Hold it, baby, hold it! Make it good for the first time in your life!"
She rolled her fanny around hard and ached to have the huge prick blow her open, split her in two. She rolled and bounced and flapped her arms hard on the bed like a pinned wrestler. He was applying a fascinating hold on her, a double hammer lock, and she was yielding to his pressure. He mounted a hard driving attack that sent her spinning.
"Asss, pump my asssssssssss!" she wailed.
Now he was pouring it on, higher and hotter and heavier than she had ever experienced. The cock was like a smithy's tong, hot and pounding and fizzing in her hot liquid. The bed creaked as he stood them up and splayed them down, in lightning movements. Now his fingers on her bottom stroked and pulled the flesh unmercifully; she felt a finger go all the way in her aching anus; she felt his fingers all about her hunching cunt, massaging the clitoris and pouring all around the tight center of erotic release. Deep down something deep-seated snapped and she spun out of rational being. She couldn't stand it; she was blowing apart.
"I'm coming all the way!" she screamed. "Augggggggggg! God, I'm thereeeeee ah!"
He did not step up his pace to meet her bombastic cresting, but instead kept to the same fine, precise rhythm. Truly now he could not control her movements as he had done before; it was a man-woman battle of the sexes and both were fighting now for supremacy. The cock seemed to extend more so, however, and as she reached her initial peak he held her shuddering body impaled easily, held it down with the strong instrument of his manhood.
"Just the first level, Jill," he said in a halting voice. "Hold on. You wanted this animal ride, and now you've got to take it!"
He pummeled her now with such a heavy barrage of cock blows that she felt sure she was splitting. But she loved it; the more punishment the better, she knew, in that suspended state of euphoria. Why couldn't it last forever, she cried to herself. Why can't we do this forever? Why do we have to come back to stupid reality where we will have to hate each other. There in that primal combat, the only war worth fighting, they were equal foes, perfectly matched no matter how he might deny it. She was his match in this one thing, she knew; she could take his punishment because it all led to that shattering of all defenses. God, she screamed to herself, I was made for this; I was created to be balled apart.
"Oh God I'm coming again!" she shrieked then. "Awwwwwwww!"
She couldn't keep from it; never had she had such heated urgency grip her very core. His iron-hard prick did not drive into her-it forged and rimmed and gouged all about in her hot pussy. Never had she felt such pent-up drive to be released in his cunt this way. His battering ram forged on and she felt his hot bone banging against the walls of her womb as her climax grew and grew.
"God, you're fucking me blind!" she barked, feeling her inner fibers snapping out of the orgasm. Almost immediately she started another ascent. It was miraculous, and now it seemed that his pronging cock had always been a part of her. The fucking sound came louder and louder, a mixture of their flesh flapping together and the ultra-wet vagina sloshing upon his pile driver.
"You're fucking my eyes out!" she wailed.
"Shut up, bitch!" he snapped. His breath came in heated pulls, like a long-distance runner down the stretch. His voice was angry, but his body pounded her all the more furiously. Each time she jolted her spread love-place up to meet his fast drives, he pounded all the harder. If it were not a coupling of erotic animals they truly would have been enemies fighting to the death.
"You're killing me!" she couldn't hold back. His hard-boned pelvis drove with such ferocity that she felt shooting pricks of pain as he thundered against her. His hands grappled for her buttocks and pulled them tight. She felt a finger at the heaving hole where his cock drove measurably each split second. She splayed her legs wide apart and tried to encircle his neck with them. But instead he let go of one of her cheeks and reached up to grab one of her legs. He used the leg as a lever and catapulted her into the air, still with the huge prick buried deep in her womb. Now he was bearing straight down on her with all his weight and she was bent backward into a disfigured V. With the other hand he now drove two solid fingers up into her anus.
"Oh, don't!" she moaned in pain.
"You want pain, bitch! You're that kind! So take it! You don't want a man! You want an animal!"
And now he began raining hard blows into her anus with his two pronging fingers. His cock was simply tearing her deep pussy apart, and he was doing the same thing now with his fingers. She thought she would surely pass out now from all the plunging pressure. Far and away in her hidden core a fire was burning her up. The pain was unbearable, except for the building fire there. She felt herself spinning and spinning. Long ago she had stopped trying to match his fucking blockbusters. She was suspended now almost in mid-air and he was ramming everything he had into her.
His head steamed hot breath all over her. His heavy body strove to snap her very fibers. He was not the same person who had begun to make love to her-he was some demon now trying to disembowel her. But she felt the building fire flaming up the walls of her cunt; no longer did she feel pain as his hand drove hard into her other hole. His breath steamed on and on, his teeth grown together. Their wet bodies flapped like hot wet fish.
She felt the coming climax but knew she had to keep from showing it, for fear it would anger him all the more. She held it back a long time as his dick let off the short jabbing strokes and picked up long jolting plunges. And then she felt herself spin into the highest plane of madness; she could not keep from it-she bellowed out with all her might: " AWWWWWWWWWWWW!"
And then he was reaching that highest plateau himself. Great beasts coupling in the caves of ancient lust could not have contained more savagery. Their bones cracked as their bodies collided with each horrendous blow. His prick was like a cast-iron pipe with a massive ball bearing on the end. She felt it striking furious blows against her womb, felt it knock angrily against her inner recesses. They were not man and woman any longer but creatures meeting on a passionate field. And this monster sprawling erotically upon her body was rising to the final challenge.
"God, you're blowing it all in me!"
"Yes, you bitch! Here it comes!"
Load after load of his fire-hot sperm shot down into her moiling pussy. She felt it shoot deep into her, each wave of it. And she snapped tight where their bodies joined, flipped her legs around his middle, and bucked hard, Angrily she hunched and bucked and held his throbbing, erupting tool. She had caught his best blows and was matching him jolt for jolt now.
And then the heavy cream was filling her completely up. She felt his cock still doing the dance of death inside her, still pumping more. And the liquid gushed up and spurted out the sides of her pussy where his cock still drove.
"Oh, my living God!" she shrieked. "I'm drowning!"
Finally the huge cock spurted one long final stream and stopped. It stood like a lance hard fixed and completely still deep in her womb.
With her hips she gave one last hunch and come to a dead stop herself. They fell then backward and he came down heavily upon her. His voice, moaning and gritty, made her shudder. She felt completed, full, and yet victorious. He had annihilated her but she had lasted through it all. Her body was stinging from the wounds all over.
Then the doorbell rang. She felt herself go limp and let out a weak little whimper. The doorbell rang again. Breathing erratically, she crawled to her feet, discarding the plastic phallus disgustedly. She was pulling up her shorts and trying to get the flush out of her face as the doorbell sounded a third urgent time.
"Hello, is Dr. Simmons here please," a tall young man said. "I've got to see him."
"No, he's not in," she stuttered, looking at the worried expression on the handsome young face. "You'll be able to find him in his office."
"He's not there, Mrs. Simmons. I've been waiting for him for an hour. I've just got to talk to him."
"Well, could I help in any way?" she said calmly now, "Won't you come in a minute?"
He stepped in and it was only then that she got the view of his full stature. He was a young man of perhaps twenty, well over six feet tall, and endowed with very broad and muscular shoulders. His blond hair, wore long with sideburns, tossled into his eyes. He stepped inside anxiously.
"If it is as urgent as it seems, maybe you should try calling him," she suggested. "You may use my phone."
"No, thank you, Mrs. Simmons. I can't get this off my chest on the telephone. I really need to see him face to face, if you know what I mean."
"Well, could you tell me the nature of your trouble, er? What was your name?"
"I'm Phil Evans, ma'am. I'm happy to meet you. I... I don't know if I can explain it to you. You see, I might be in a lot of hot water just coming here."
"Oh, what for?"
"Oh, lord, I just don't know what to do ..."
He sat down on the couch across from her and his whole face was gripped in a mask of despondency. He put a hand up to flick the hair from his eyes and looked at her almost pleadingly. He had bright blue eyes and to her he seemed like a lovable little boy burdened with a sense of boyish guilt. She smiled and that seemed to set him a bit easy.
"You see, Mrs. Simmons, I am a student in one of your husband's history courses. And last week... oh, Jesus ..."
"Now," she shook her head sympathetically. "Nothing is quite that bad, Phil."
"It's pretty bad, all right," he shook his head. "Not that I can complain or even offer any excuses. You see, Dr. Simmons caught Willard Brewster and me cheating on the history exam last week."
"Oh, I see. That kind of trouble,"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Well, I'm afraid I can offer you no help at all about something like that. Even if I might believe you, my husband is pretty strong-headed about such things. But tell me, did you really cheat, Phil?"
"I came here, Mrs. Simmons, to confess to your husband and get it off my conscience."
"Then tell me, Phil, what sort of grade were you making with my husband?"
"Oh, I had an A, Mrs. Simmons. You see, it wasn't me who needed the grade. It was Willie Brewster. You have to know Willie. He's our ail-American, you know. But a real great guy too. Willie's just a little weak when it comes to books."
"And so you were helping him out. Is that it?" she shook her head.
"Honestly, Mrs. Simmons, I didn't know Willie was looking at my paper. But that's between you and me. I would never say that to Dr. Simmons or anybody else. Whatever I am, I'm not an alibi-giver. But I'd like to help Willie if I can, you see. I came to ask Dr. Simmons to give me an F instead of Willie. Poor old Willie was just desperate, and my paper was too much a temptation. I caused it all, and I want to take the blame."
"You poor boy," she sighed deeply. He stood up then, towering over her smaller figure a good head. As he breathed deeply in resignation she noticed his bulging biceps and his hard, flat chest. He was truly a beautiful young man and she felt nothing but utter compassion for him.
"I want to thank you for listening to me, Mrs. Simmons. It's been a big help, just having somebody to talk to. I guess I'll go now."
"Phil," she said soothingly. "I'm sorry, I truly am. I wish I could do something for you."
She noticed that he was looking at her legs; the sparkling blue eyes scanned down her figure errantly and then looked away embarrassedly. It was only then that she noticed her blouse partially open. In her rush to answer the door she had forgotten to button the blouse all the way up, and she wore no bra underneath. The poor dear, she exclaimed to herself; he must have been seeing her breasts as he tried to talk about his problems. Self-consciously she held her arms in front of the jutting breasts as she walked him to the door. He turned to her again with his sickened expression, and she decided to hell with appearances. She let the blouse sag open a bit and in doing so felt the nipples harden up and stick out distinctly against the cloth. His eyes drank the sight in hungrily, and she felt a flush of excitement herself.
"Since we know each other now, Phil, I'd like to know what comes of all this. I promise you one thing-my husband will be fair. Will you let me know about it later? Call me or drop by?"
"Oh, yes," he brightened. "I can't tell you how much that means to me. You're very kind."
"Well, I'm new to this role of faculty wife, you know. It'll help me too, you see."
His eyes stayed on her figure a long moment then, causing her to flush all the more and feel a hot sensation stinging her in her deepest region of sensation. She let her own eyes scan his body: he certainly was built like a young Adonis himself, and there at his crotch the huge bulge revealed even more about him.
After he left, she puttered about the house pretending to straighten things up; but she could not keep her mind off the strong young man. She went into the kitchen and put on a pot roast and came back to the living room. There on the floor was the telltale plastic banana. She felt a hot surge in her loins. Disgustedly she kicked the object all the way across the room.
CHAPTER TWO
Loud, bombastic acid-rock music poured through the house. Jill danced like a go-go girl all about, feeling extremely free, uplifted. John had called to say that he would not be home until late that night. At first she was bitterly downcast, and then she got out a bottle of Scotch and fixed herself a little pick up. After two more strong ones she didn't care if John would ever come home.
"Do it, do it, do it, do it!" she sang wildly. She had not heard the doorbell ring the first several times, and it was only after the loud knocking that she snapped from the heady trance and found her way to the front door.
"Mrs. Simmons," the young man said bashfully.
"Why, Phil! How are you?"
"I just came by to tell you how it came out and to thank you for your very kind treatment."
"Come in, Phil, please."
"No, I'd better not, Mrs. Simmons."
"What's happened, anyway, Phil? What did they do about your case?"
"Oh, just about what we expected. Willie and I are suspended from Dr. Simmons's class with F's. It doesn't matter all that much about me, but Willie gets the ax from the team, too. Man, that's about to drive me crazy. But I wanted you to know that just having you to talk to helped me."
"Why, you poor dear," she sighed. "You're all overwrought. I insist that you come in a minute."
"No, ma'am, I couldn't..."
"I insist!"
And she was pulling him in by the arm and leading him to the living room. For the moment she was able to keep her balance well; the thought of what her husband had done seemed to sober her a bit into depression and sympathy.
She noticed that he was looking at her legs again; the little boy blue eyes scanned down her figure again, tracing the tapering legs, studying the finely proportioned thighs in the short shorts. Again today she wore no bra, and she smiled to see him drinking in the tautness of her breasts.
"Well, Phil, how will all this affect your plans for the future?"
"I really don't know. You see, I was planning to go to law school. But with cheating on my record, gee..."
"Would they really put it in your record that you cheated? That could brand you for life!"
"Your husband says that he hasn't made up his mind about that yet. He can insist, you know, that it go on my transcript. Jesus, sometimes I feel just like pulling out of college and joining the Army."
"Good lord," she stammered. "Don't think about that. You poor dear. I feel so damn sorry for you."
"Don't feel sorry for me, Mrs. Simmons. I guess I really deserved it all. That's just the way it goes."
"Well, it makes me damn mad, Phil!" she snapped out, the liquor in her serving to stir her ire up even more. "To me it's all a farce. Just a goddamn farce! I don't think John has the right to decide your whole future! It makes me sick."
He just shook his head; his eyes came back to her abundant cleavage and rested there in consolation. Their gazes met and they shared a long dreamy stare. His blue eyes fluttered finally and he dropped his head boyishly.
"Hell, it's so depressing. At least we can change the mood," she sang. She got up and danced to the stereo and turned the records over. Soon more acid-hot music piped through the house. She stood at the stereo a moment, rotating her hips to the rhythm and tossing her head. When she came back he was smiling broadly at her.
"You really are cool, Mrs. Simmons," he said. "That's great music. I didn't think any faculty members or their wives were that groovy."
"Oh, those are my records. John hates it. He's just as square as all the others, I'm afraid. Bach and Chopin and a little tossed salad for dinner. Ugh."
He laughed again and she danced over and sat down beside him. Her half-finished drink was on the end table and she grabbed it and downed the remainder with much gusto. In leaning over she brushed her boobs across his arm, held them there a minute, and mashed them a bit into his side.
"Say, listen," she brightened. "Let me fix you a little drink."
"No, thank you, Mrs. Simmons. I don't drink. I'm in training. Or I was in training, I should say. I'm not on the team any longer either."
"Damn, what a bummer," she sighed. "If you're not on the team, then a little drink wouldn't hurt. I was feeling low today myself. I usually don't drink at all. Let's say we've both got something to celebrate, in reverse."
"No, I'd better not," he demurred.
"Again, Phil, I'm going to insist. Come on, man, let yourself go. Got to keep a sense of humor. All that rot."
"You are a very remarkable person, Mrs. Simmons," he stammered, his eyes openly following her moving figure.
"And please call me Jill, will you?"
She brought back two tall Scotch-and-waters and sat down on the floor in front of him. He was smiling all the time now and that made her feel good; at least she could cheer up somebody in the world. It had been a long time since she had been with someone so young and vibrant. Being a college professor's wife takes years off you immediately, they had told her, and she felt extremely young now. She was happy that John had called.
He sipped his drink cautiously and looked down at her. She seemed to be dancing, moving to the hot beat even as she sat there. Her blouse was open at the top and he could not help but see down into the lower region. Occasionally she bent over and he could see the whole shape of her lovely breasts-they were large, larger than one might imagine, and the fine strawberry tips were like hard ball bearings against the cloth. He gulped his drink and kept looking.
Occasionally she swayed over and touched his knees; her long blond hair dangled down almost to the floor, and she shook it from side to side. She drank most of her Scotch as she sat there looking all around, avoiding his glance. She saw him moving his haunches from side to side uncomfortably, and there at his crotch, only inches away, she saw the outline of his cock. It was swelling up more and more and it made him embarrassed. She put back her head and laughed deliciously "What are you laughing about-" he asked.
"Getting hot in here, isn't it, Phil?" she giggled.
"I'll say. Wow..."
"Are you still thinking about that mess?"
"A little, I guess," he stammered. "You poor dear."
She bent over, resting her arms on his knees, and put her head down there. His crotch was only inches away from her face: her hair was touching it. He was trembling, she could tell; she felt the blood throbbing all through his being. She laughed again.
"Do we dare, Phil?"
Her eyes met his for a very long moment. His face was distorted with mixed emotions; he was staring in the face of a beautiful dilemma. She patted his knee to break the spell and smiled sincerely.
"Nothing uptight, Phil. Okay?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, it doesn't matter. Listen, I may not have gone to college. I don't have a degree in psychology or anything, but I've read a lot. You'd be surprised what you pick up in those square ladies' magazines. Situational ethics, I think that's what they call it now. I was thinking-people ought to follow their instincts."
"You are a remarkable person, Mrs. Simmons."
"Jill, please."
"Jill, then."
"Phil. Wow, we rhyme ..."
She took his hand and placed it on her knee. The skin was warm and soft and creamy; his fingers actually shook, but he didn't take the hand away. She looked at him again, scanned down to his crotch where the huge cock was now at full mast.
"We met by chance, Phil. We're here today because we share some same feelings. You might even call us buddies. Phil, will you be my buddy?"
"Sure... sure, Mrs. Simmons."
She lay back as though she were about to float in water. Keeping his hand in hers, she pulled him easily, and then they were together on the carpet. His head came down slowly and their eyes locked again. His mouth came upon hers.
It was a tender probing kiss of young lovers; his lips were firm but not brusque and his mouth strong; only their lips met at first and then the mouths widened and their tongues came together. It became a long kiss, and his arms went around her to clasp her very tight. She felt the breath go out of her at his strength; now they were drinking each other's very being in the extended kiss. His hand came up to cup her large breast. She moved a bit and he lay squarely upon her.
"Oh, God," he said first.
"Beautiful," she smiled.
She reached up and began unbuttoning the blouse and soon she was lying naked to the waist, warmly meshed against his virile body. She ran her hands across his strong back and down his wide shoulders. All the feel of him made her flush with the warmth of a hot summer day. He kissed her neck then, sucking little tingles along the throat and down to her downy shoulders. His hands cupped her breasts, tried to encompass all of them in two palms; he groped and groped for them and kneaded the firm flesh over and over.
"How do you feel?" she panted slightly.
"Strange."
"Want to stop?"
"No, yes ... I don't know ..."
"Will it make you feel bad?" she sighed.
"I don't know now ... maybe."
"Sex is hell, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"No. Sex is great-love is hell."
"Will you do me a favor, Phil?"
"What?"
"I'm horny."
Because of the booze and the swinging mood, she felt no tinge of regret or guilt; it seemed beautifully appropriate that she should be living thus on a carpet with a strong young man who was sensitive and considerate and humble. John had said that this Phil Evans was an operator, and how true he was, only in a different sense.
She stood up and breathed deeply. The white breasts rose up to perfect mounds, round and white milky moons. He stood, bent over, and took a moon into his mouth, sucked the tip until it was burning hot and hard between his teeth. His hand circled her waist and clasped her close; the hand moved down the slope of her back and into the shorts to cup the rubbery-hard buttocks. He mashed his body against hers and she felt the hard swell of his cock against her thighs. She surged her own thighs against him and they ground their lower regions urgently.
"I'm going to take it out," she whispered. She unzipped his fly and reached inside. The throbbing cock jumped at her touch; she rubbed the head of it and it was very moist. She brought the penis out of his pants and it stuck straight out; the young man looked away, almost in embarrassment.
"It's beautiful," she smiled.
She toyed with it in such a way that an excess of liquid emitted from the tiny opening in the head. Up and down on the velvety head she massaged his cock; he bent, breathing heavily, and bit her on the neck hard, his hands never leaving the swollen breasts.
"God, Mrs. Simmons, you gonna make me..."
"Could I?"
She slid down his hard body, pulling the pants open and drawing them down around his knees with her. Now she clasped his middle with her arms, ran her hands onto his tight-muscled buttocks, and stroked in the mat of hair there at his dividing. Quickly she bent and put her lips to the head of the cock; it throbbed violently at her sensitive touch and he pushed it a little way onto her face. She let the massive instrument play all about her face, upon her lips and chin, across her cheeks, down onto her neck where she hugged it tightly. And then she drew back and held the cock with both hands. She brought her mouth upon it and savored the head with her wet tongue. His body shuddered violently against her nakedness. Now she was working the cock strongly with a plunging motion; in and out, letting the head dart partially into her throat, controlling his surging motion now, licking the length of it each time.
"I'm gonna shoot off..." he stammered.
On that signal she began to work frantically but rhythmically upon the pushing rod. Letting go one hand, she reached underneath him and caught his drawn balls; she massaged the muscle there and the main vein leading to the penis, all the while scratching in the mass of pubic hair.
"Jesus, that's great," he groaned.
Her mouth worked back and forth in a wide open motion, making a slippery, gushing sound. Time and again she felt the blood-gorged bulb of the cock jam into her throat and back out. She gulped hard and felt the cock grow steamy hot. All the while she squeezed at his buttocks with one hand and milked his taut balls with the other.
"Oh, Jesus, I'm shooting off!" he bellowed. He tried to pull completely away from her frantic mouth, lest she catch the oncoming eruption. But she would not release him. On and on she worked, feeling her whole being about to explode along with his moiling lava.
And then it hit-suddenly, like a huge bulb exploding, showering the world with rainbow color. The huge prod began pumping furiously and she felt the first wave of hot sperm in her mouth. Lap after lap of it gushed then into her mouth and down into her throat. She worked furiously, clenching her teeth now upon that erupting cock and holding her mouth fast upon it.
"My living God!" he barked, shaking entirely. "Oh, my God! Awwwwwwwwww!"
She gulped the sperm on and on until he was finally empty of all his vital juices. She locked her mouth on the cock and ran her tongue all up and over and around as she swallowed the last of the cream. Not for a moment during the eruption had she opened her eyes. She did not want the dick ever to leave her mouth, but she felt such a hot upsurge in her unfulfilled cunt that she visibly shook all over.
She held him steady until they were both laying back on the carpet. His hands encircled her bulging hips and stroked her firm ass tenderly. She was gasping for breath in her heated state and now he seemed to realize her needful state.
"Mrs. Simmons ... I'm sorry ... my God how I'd love to fuck you ... God, it drives me crazy seeing you lying here ... that beautiful body..."
Unconsciously she began hunching her pussy upon his arm. She was burning up now. Just having this beautiful young body to play with excited her tremendously. She knew it was all wrong but she couldn't help it. She hunched harder and moaned softly, hoping somehow that he could do something to help her.
"God, I'm sorry, Mrs. Simmons ... but I can't ... I mean it won't get hard right away..."
He sighed in frustration and looked down at his spent rod. Her eyes were closed and she was clutching at him desperately. Her pussy felt like a scalding pelt of wet fur. He seemed at a loss; he simply held her shuddering box with his hands and let it hunch against his bare leg.
"Touch it, oh God touch it!" she demanded.
Quickly he reached down and spread her legs wide. He almost gasped at the sight of her strong mound of hair and flesh. It was beautiful and fully ready to be fucked, and he cursed himself now for not stopping her halfway through her suck job. But now he went to work on that hot pussy in earnest. She gaped her legs far apart and he dug in deep with two fingers. The fingers slid easily into the hot red meat-he splayed them apart at first and worked in a rotation pattern, letting the heavy lather of her vagina soak up the cunt walls. Jesus, he thought, she was as ripe as a honeydew and ready to be plugged.
"Finger it! Finger it!" she cried. "Yes, I need something in my pussy! Don't hold back! Fuck it with your hand!"
Now she was riding her hips and buttocks up high on his driving hand. He managed to get another finger in the expanding love hole. Hot juicy stuff poured all around in her cunt and ran out into the palm of his working hand. She moaned and clasped her long legs around his waist as he bent over and continued to give her a mock fuck.
"Is that okay?" he asked, working his hand as though he were pumping up a tire. "Do you like that, Mrs. Simmons?"
"Yes, hell yes! Only deeper! Stick it in deeper!"
He rammed with all his might and could feel her cunt walls throbbing. He ticked at the little stub of clitoris with his thumb as he finger-fucked on. Her powerful blows against his hand amazed him; she didn't seem so strong and responsive. He brought his other hand around behind her and grasped her hard fanny. With one hand in front and one behind, he held her box firmly now and continued to pour it on with the pronged fingers.
"Deeper! It's gotta be deeper!" she barked.
"That's all, baby, it won't go any deeper. And my dick is getting hard again, but it's not hard enough ... hold on, baby, hold on ..."
"I gotta have it, I tell you! Forgive me, but I can't stand it! You're burning me up! Oh, what you do to me! Ram it in deeper! Split me open!"
If only the goddamn dick would come alive, he cursed himself. Sharp pains shot through his arms from holding her off the floor and bearing the weight of her luscious thighs. He looked around and suddenly caught sight of the artificial banana on the carpet a few feet away. That would do it, he thought, but would she want it? Goddamn, could it be that she was banana fucking herself just as he came in? He kept on finger fucking her but he began to tug them a few inches along the carpet. She didn't know what he was doing but she didn't care: all she wanted was to get the frenzied cunt of hers full of something. He milked her ass with his hand, ran a reaming finger into her pert little ass each time he plunged the fingers of the other hand. After several seconds he had succeeded in moving them backwards almost a yard.
"Ohhhhhhhhhh!" she screamed. He had massaged her clitoris to a state of climax and now she was having a clitoral orgasm hard against his plunging fingers. He felt the skin of his fingers burning from all the friction of her bumping loins. She screamed on but wanted much more, and he could tell that one peak had finished and another was beginning. The movement along the floor had only served to make her more frenzied.
And now he had reached the banana. He slipped his hand out of her cunt then. At the loss she swooned and fell over and threw her legs wide apart. Even the gaping pussy seemed to moan for something. Her hips gave a tremendous leap upward, trying to ensnare anything. He held the banana a second, brought it down even with the lurching pussy, and fixed it at the lips of her love hole.
Immediately the blond beauty of her cunt grabbed for the blunt instrument. In a second she was arching her loins on up higher, taking the artificial phallus fully inside for two or three inches. In all, the plastic object must have been ten inches long. He held it firm then and looked intently at her face, wanting to make sure that she knew what this was all about. She jerked backward and heaved for more of the deadly object; her eyes popped open and she looked at him fiercely, in the throes of erotic desire.
"God, Phil, shove it in! I need it! Oh, I'm sorry, but I need it! Please, please, my pussy needs it..."
He felt his own cock stiffen up hard then. He thought that he would hold the banana in place only for a minute and then replace it with his own phallus. God, he wanted to fuck that blond cunt! He could feel it throughout his whole being. Never in his life had he wanted a woman more; he had been horny before and had had his share of snapping young pussy, but this was entirely new, entirely different-this was a fully mature woman who knew all there was to know about balling. The thought of her wanting to be fucked by the artificial prick stirred him up more than anything. He felt all his blood swirling in his veins as he looked down and saw the bright yellow object sinking into the juicy blond hole.
"I want to fuck you!" he barked then.
"Too late! Too late! Oh, Phil, fuck me, yes! But fuck me with that first! Please don't take it out! If you take it out, I'll die! Fuck me, oh fuck me with that yellow thing!"
She flashed her arms up and around and grabbed his hands with hers, guiding the yellow phallus. With her hands on his she shoved the firm, pliable object down deep. She let out a distorted groan that changed into a moan as it touched the entrance of her womb. She lay back then, as in a trance, and held his hands firmly above her pussy and on the end of the artificial device.
"Oh, God," she cried. "It's awful ... but I want it... I'm rotten ... rotten to the core..."
"No, you're not," he said softly. "You're great. You're the most exciting woman I've ever met."
"Please, don't talk ... just ... do it to me..."
She hunched her hips upon the rod to signal him. With both hands on the yellow device, he began to pull it up and push it back down carefully. The first two or three times caused her to moan and flail her hips about. She grabbed him around the waist with her legs and locked them firmly. The phallus had not gone all the way in yet; each time that he pulled it up and delivered it back in place he urged it just a bit deeper. Finally, at her insistence, he plunged it in as deep as it would go, letting his bunched fingers pause just at the hot and syrupy opening to her cunt.
Her fine globular ass was bouncing saucily now with each downstroke. She humped it and let it take her insides with its mashing fullness. Clearly she was taking it all without any difficulty. Once, as he pushed it rapidly, she lunged upward and ate the entire length of it. His fingers lost it for a minute and it was stuck deep in her hole. She shrieked out in a grotesque cry of wantonness. He groped until he found the end of the stick and then brought it up halfway again. She was going crazy now with wanting a full fuck.
"I'm going to come any second!" she warned. "Pour it on, oh God, fuck it fuck it fuck it!"
With a firm grip on the yellow marauder now he jacked down into her spread-eagled love cavern. He jammed and rammed it like a hot poker into a blast furnace. Her legs flapped at his sides now and she was riding upside down bronco style. His own cock was tooling so hard against his pants that he had to reach down and upzip the fly to let it get free. The cock tooled in the air wondrously and throbbed so violently that he thought he surely was going to come, too.
"I need it, I need it!" she chanted, hunching madly. "I need it I need it I need it I need it!"
He was thinking vehemently that he just had to get that yellow thing out of her wonderful pussy and get his cock where it yearned to be. He tried to pull the yellow thing all the way out, but she stopped him frantically with her hands.
"No! No!" she barked. "I'm com-inggggggggggggggggggggg She bellowed like a woman being flogged at the stake. Her whole body balled against him. Now he felt her hands on his cock down there as she continued to scream. Her hands began to mash and pull and jack his cock; she worked in the frantic rhythm of her own continuing orgasm. He tried to pull his cock away from her pumping hands, not wanting to waste his stuff this vital time. But she held on like a madwoman and jacked furiously.
"Oh, God, baby, I'm going to come! Come on, baby, let me fuck you!"
"No, it's good, it's good, it's so gooooooooooood!"
All the while she jacked his stiff prod so fast that he thought surely she would rip it out of the socket. Her bombastic orgasm stretched out beyond mere seconds-she hunched her slippery hole upon the yellow demon that he held in position only now. He felt his cock give a violent jerk and spurt a huge wad of come upon her bare stomach. The cock jerked again and shot another volley of cream, splattering upon the blond hair of her pussy.
"I'm coming!" he warned.
Deftly she hunched the yellow rod, withdrew her hot loins, and in one lightning motion hunched her cunt upon the granite-hard head of his cock. Her pussy was catching the full force of his eruption now. She was not so much letting him fuck her as she was acting as a reservoir for his plenteous lava. Four, five, six-he felt great spheres of his seed spitting down into her hot canal.
CHAPTER THREE
"Sir, my name is Kathy Moore," she said demurely. "I am sorry to disturb you, really I am. Could you give me just a minute or two of your time?"
"Yes, I suppose so," he nodded, his tone not so severe now. "What's your problem?"
"Well," she began in a low tone of voice that was tinged with a bit of affectation. "It's not really my problem. It's a friend of mine, you see..."
"Sit down, sit down, Miss Moore."
She had a bit of exaggeration in her swaying walk, too, he discovered. A bit vampy, but not enough to be a real put on. She crossed her legs as she sat down and the mini-dress went up to her thighs naturally. He was accustomed to that, but she did have very nice thin legs. She breathed heavily, causing her well-formed boobs to expand. Another little conscience teaser. But he couldn't decide about her-if she were one of his students he would know why she came-to brown nose a little, to tease her fine little body in front of his nose in an attempt to soften him up for a grade. It was the oldest game on college campuses, and he smiled to think that it still worked.
"Well, Miss Moore, go on."
"Dr. Simmons, you are so kind to listen to me. And first I want you to know that I am not here to ask for any favor. But I have this friend, see, and he's really got a problem."
She uncrossed and crossed her legs again and he noticed that she had on peach-colored panties. Step two. Then she smiled coyly, seeing his eyes go downward. She rocked back a bit in the chair and looked all around his office.
"You have a very interesting office, Dr. Simmons. I just love all those posters and things you have put up."
"Miss Moore, are you trying to put me on?" he asked calmly.
"Me?' she drawled. "Me? Why, Dr. Simmons, why would I try to put you on?"
"Very well, then, why don't we get to the reason you came here and leave off the chitchat What's your friend's trouble, anyway? His name wouldn't be Phil Evans by any chance?"
She smiled coyly again and twittered her long eyelashes; she nodded very slowly and sighed, almost in a shrug. Her eyes caught his and she forced him to indulge in one of those long exchanges. Finally he turned away and picked up his pen again.
"The case is still pending," he said flatly. "There's nothing more to discuss about it. I am sure Mr. Evans will be treated fairly, under the circumstances. So, this is a waste of your time, Miss Moore."
"You will have to admit, Dr. Simmons," she said in her long, lyrical tone, "that it isn't every day that a student comes to you and asks you to give him an F. All I wanted to do was say to you that Phil is a very nice person. If you knew him the way I do ..."
"Indeed," he drawled.
"To err is human, Dr. Simmons," she teased, raising her leg just a bit to reveal ever so slightly the fringe of an undergarment. 'To forgive..."
"And a scalded cat fears cold water, Miss Moore."
"Cold hands, warm heart, Dr. Simmons."
"Wish not, want not, Miss Moore."
"Fair exchange is no robbery, Dr. Simmons."
"What?"
"Just an expression, sir."
He laughed. Perhaps it was the slowly building pressure so many things to do, and perhaps it was the point of mental fatigue that he had reached-but now he felt suddenly relieved, freshened by this young girl. It was an exhilarating game, one that he had not played in years with teasing co-eds. This one was one of the best, he recognized. He had an idea that she could handle herself well in any situation, whether it be the battle of the sexes or the battle of the grade book. Girls like that were often more brilliant than anyone supposed-they pretended to be dumb so that they could be popular with the well-built guys; they could handle brain or brawn and take care of themselves. It was a trait that his wife Jill did not understand.
"Well, Miss Moore, you may go back and tell Mr. Evans that you tried, that you made your little offer for the compromise. He's very lucky, and he probably doesn't know what he's got going with you."
"Why, thank you, sir. First of all, Phil didn't send me. He'd kill me if he knew I came to see you. And second, I'm not so sure now it was simply a compromise."
She fluttered her eyelashes again and tossed the long black hair out of her eyes. Then she looked at him again and ran the tip of her tongue along the edge of her lip. He just smiled and shook his head.
"You're really something else. Miss Moore."
"You're really something else, too, Dr. Simmons."
He wondered what she would do if he suddenly got up, picked up her trim little body, and placed her on the desk. Probably scream, he speculated, but then perhaps not-this was a different sort of chick. Feeling suddenly exhilarated he felt an impulse to reach out and touch her, to delve into that forbidden land that most male teachers fantasize about and fear to probe. To hell with it, he said to himself; she could take care of herself, It was just a teasing little game that both were getting a big kick out of.
"Fair exchange, did you say?" he said softly, devilishly.
"Hm."
"What if I just threw you down and raped you, Miss Moore? Would that be fair exchange?"
"It depends on what you call rape."
He swallowed hard and felt butterflies swarm around in his stomach. She was just too much; she was in complete control of herself. He could just imagine how she might go back to the other girls and say: "You know, Professor Simmons is a groove... wow ... he's a man, not a boy ..."
He stood up, feeling his cock stiffening measurably, and went over to her chair; she looked up and her raven-black eyes peered deeply into his. He just shook his head and tried to laugh it all off, but she knew she had him then. What the hell, he said again to himself, and bent to touch her silky tresses. Her face was just an inch or two away; he could smell her sweet cinnamon breath, the fragrance of all beautiful young girls.
Their faces came closer; he told himself hurriedly that there still was time to back out. But what was waiting on the other side of the bargain-a stack of dumb papers, a boring article he still had to research, a single-minded wife at home that he could not reach. This young chick here in front of him embodied all that fascinated. Her mouth tilted upward, brushed his lips, and then they were kissing.
Expertly she opened her mouth wide as he put his mouth to hers; her tongue went immediately to his and tickled and clicked; her teeth nibbled at his lip, bit little pains of sensuality, She moved her mouth up and down and around and probed deeper with her delicious little tongue. Finally he let her go and stood heaving heavily.
"Damn," he exclaimed.
"Wow," she cooed.
His cock was aching to get out and about and he had a hard time holding it down; he turned from her but she saw the growing bulge, and it must have satisfied her exceedingly to know that she had stirred up one of the college's unapproachable professors. He backed away and she sat smiling.
"This is crazy," he stammered. "Don't think for a minute, Miss Moore ..."
"Oooh, I'm not thinking, Dr. Simmons. Not thinking..."
"I think I'd better go home. I think you'd better go back to your friend, too."
"Oh, there's no rush. I looked for Phil and couldn't find him anywhere. This is so nice and cozy..."
"Yeah, too cozy. Do you realize what would happen if we ... I mean ..."
"Oh, yes, it gives me chills just to think what would happen."
He looked back at his desk; he thought of Jill all alone at home; he felt sudden pangs of middle-class conscience. It was ridiculous. He had actually been necking in his office with a co-ed. But it was delicious, and try as he might, he couldn't get the tingle out of his head.
She stood up then and swayed over to him; openly now she leaned against his strong frame, pressed her tight firm boobs right against his side, and looked up at him daringly. Before he knew it he was taking her into his arms, pressing his lips down wetly on hers again, running his hands all over her slender body. He couldn't control himself; his hands found her breasts and cupped them, pressed into them hard, causing her to moan a little as she worked her tongue furiously inside his mouth. She was pressing her pelvis hard against him; the short skirt rode up high as he fondled her body, and his hands found her ripe tight little ass and massaged it roughly.
"No, enough!" he snapped, pulling away.
"Oh, why?" she breathed.
"Because it's just ridiculous. Come on Miss Moore, let's get a breath of air. Do us both good."
"Only one thing will do me good now. Hmmm?"
He walked to the door and she followed grudgingly but still in full control of herself. It was amazing how heated he had become, while at the same time she was in complete control of her faculties. He pulled on his coat and gave his pulsating cock a hard push downward. They were out and walking the empty hallway, she a few feet behind, dancing along and humming a little song. She was indeed the most interesting college co-ed he had ever encountered; it seemed that she had no inhibitions to repress; she was just a free and open chick who liked to turn on if the moment was right. This new breed of young people was certainly something to marvel at, he speculated, trying to gain control of himself. Back in the old days the whole little affair would have been a horrid affair, full of fear and carping guilt. But it seemed so open, frank, and undeniable. His head buzzed. He had been on the point of physical and mental strain, he told himself; he was ready to snap. It was the perfect moment.
"What the hell and what the hell again," he mumbled, going down a dimly lit hallway toward the exit. He heard the girl coming along behind him and he wondered where and what she would be doing next. His cock simply would not quit kicking; he had never been so erotically stimulated.
They passed an empty classroom where he taught during the day; the door had a lock on the inside. Somewhere in the building was the old janitor, puttering around, collecting litter and wastepaper. Did he dare? Oh, God, he thought, what in hell are you thinking, man? Never in his life had he seriously thought about such a thing. But there she was only a few feet behind him, like a mythical siren beckoning, willing, inviting.
She glided up behind him and he caught a whiff of her perfume. He eyed the door to the room; deep inside him he heard a huge echoing drumbeat that seemed to be pounding out a warning. Don't Do It! Don't Do It! But there was another powerful pounding inside him that kept imploring, Do It! Do It! Do It!
"Certainly is peaceful and quiet," she cooed.
"Come on," he said sharply.
"Where are we going, dear Dr. Simmons?"
"In here!"
He stood at the door looking backward suspiciously as she came inside; very quietly he pushed the door shut and clicked on the lock. The room was folded in complete darkness and all he could hear was her purring breath. Throwing caution to the wind, he snapped on the light She just stood there smiling in anticipation.
'This is stupid," he said.
"Oh, do you really think so?" she purred.
"If you were teasing me a little while ago, you'd better say so now."
"Oh, dear Dr. Simmons, I would never think of kidding you. Me, kid you? Oh, no..."
He found all of a sudden that he had no taste for this sort of hanky-panky; his cock suddenly went limp, and all he could think of were the many dry lectures that took place daily in that dolorous chamber. She was over at the podium where professors stood to give lectures; she leaned against the wooden object and just looked at him, waiting. It was truly stupid, he was speculating now. He didn't know this girl -though she seemed to really be with it. God, the consequences! he growled at himself. This girl couldn't be more than eighteen or nineteen -and what if she wanted just to cause trouble? He decided just to make the best of it and get out of the predicament as soon as he could.
"What are we going to do now?" she asked.
"It's a classroom, isn't it, Miss Moore? We might as well have a little impromptu session. Sit down ... there, on the front row. That's where most chicks like to sit right where they can tantalize the teacher."
"Oh, wow, I get to have Dr. Simmons for a private lecture," she giggled a bit and proceeded to sit down. Very methodically she crossed her legs and he could see a good portion of the peach-colored panties again. He went to the podium and began.
"Today, ladies and gentlemen, we will have a lecture on the American democracy. The early Founding Fathers were all after the same game that everyone is after today: namely, the old grab bag game of money. So, the early Founding Fathers were actually Funding Fathers. That's it, in a nutshell. And now if there are no questions, class will stand dismissed ..."
"Oh, sir, I have a question," she brightened. "Weren't any of the Funding Fathers ever Fondling Fathers, too? I think that would be nice..."
"As a matter of fact, Miss Moore, yes, they all were fondling fathers."
"Groovy."
"Damn, what am I going to do with you, Kathy?" he asked in a heavy sigh.
"Please, sir, would you demonstrate just how the Fondling Fathers worked?"
"Look, what do you want from me?"
"Oh, do you really have to ask that?" she cooed.
"Well, Jesus, I'm not exactly a Joe Namath type, Kathy."
"No. You're much more. Just look at all that man, hmm ..."
He was close to her again and could smell the sweet fragrance of her. All he could think of now, as a hot wave of rekindled desire struck, was how she had felt back there in his office. He had always prided himself in the fact that he could control his actions, his feelings. But now this little vixen was turning him inside out.
"Don't you want to kiss me again?" she whispered, running a slender arm along his side.
"What do you want, Kathy?"
"What do I want? Can't you tell? I want you to fuck me."
"You want me to what?" he started.
"Oh, do I shock you, Dr. Simmons? Didn't you think I knew that word? It's really not a bad word, to describe something so heavenly. Don't you agree?"
"Hell, I don't know."
"Well, why don't you do it then? Fuck me..."
"You mean right here in this room?"
"It's a nice room, isn't it? What could be better?"
Her long eyelashes teased at him; all the way she had been a coyish kitten, well in control. He had never had a woman treat him in such a candid way, much less a mere slip of a college girl. And strangely it intrigued. More than anything he wanted to see just how far she would go.
She snaked her arm around his neck and urged him down a bit and then she was kissing him expertly. Immediately his up and down rod began hitting on all cylinders again. She pressed her willowy body against him and dug in with her firm pelvis.
"Too many clothes," she murmured. She worked at his belt buckle as she devoured his mouth with hers. He felt her fingers inside his pants, going to meet the oncoming cock. She scratched across the penis lightly with the sharp nails and teased the hard prod up and down. With her other hand now she unbuttoned his shirt and toyed with his hairy chest. Now the hand at the cock was bringing the quaking took out of the pants. It jumped at her slightest insistence, poked out of the fly, and stood stock still at attention.
"My, my, it's so nice," she drawled. She wrapped her palm around it and rubbed back and forth tantalizingly across the purple bulb.
It was driving him crazy but he tried desperately to stay calm. He remained passive, peering down at her smooth thighs outlined in the tight skirt. "So nice," she purred on, rubbing and teasing more.
For support he ran his arms around her and grasped her tight little fanny. She was a thin girl, all right, beautifully built in all the right places but slender as a sycamore sapling. He milked at her drawn little ass until she let out a soft moan of pleasure. Still she kept the cock as her own plaything.
"Have you ever read the book Go Down Moses?" she asked coyly.
"Yes, I think so," he breathed out.
"It's my favorite book." She broke into a little laugh, arched her mouth up again to take his lips; her tongue fought at his and both their mouths moved frantically. As she pulled away, she began to slide down his body slowly, straddling his legs with her partially spread legs. Her skirt rode up all the way to her hips then, revealing the delicious little peach-colored bikini panties.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
But she was humming the old church hymn now and he knew full well where she was headed. He let her go on down until her arms circled his waist and her hands held his buttocks firmly. She unbuttoned his shirt and pants as she went gliding down, until he was standing there with his clothes hanging almost off his body. Her mouth kissed his matted chest and stomach on the way; now she was at his pubic area. He could feel her warm breath down around his erect penis. With the sharp fingernails she scratched at the base of his tool, tickled all around it and jabbed tenderly into his balls. Then her wet lips were on the base of the staff and working inch by inch toward the summit.
"What are you doing?" he asked. "Hmmm," she cooed.
"No, you can't do that. I don't do that... I've never..."
"Shh," she stilled him.
And it was true; in times past the girls he had made love to occasionally wanted to fondle and kiss and even suck his cock, but he would have none of it. He had just always felt that it was an unnecessary preliminary that uptight people indulged in. Now he was finding it more than exciting, just because this most unusual young girl was doing it to him. Whereas in the past he had stopped his wife Jill from doing the same thing, now he was powerless against this younger woman.
"Don't you like it, Dr. Simmons?" she whispered.
"I... I don't know... I guess so ..."
"Hang on, sweetie, before long I might just teach you something."
And with that she sank her mouth over the large head of the throbbing cock. She sucked at it right from the first and brought her tongue up to lick the very tip; she pushed it back into her throat and brought it back again to the tantalizing tip of her tongue. As she sucked and gulped, she pulled hard against his buttocks; he replied by pushing the cock deeper each time. God, he was thinking, it was total madness, yet he couldn't stop her or himself now. Her mouth was like a hot bun saturated with melted butter, and he knew that at any minute he would be shooting off all his seed.
She sensed his growing state of pending release and pulled the cock out; again she scratched at it with her long fingernails and jacked it up and down with rapid motions. After only seconds she brought the cock back into her mouth again to suck and gulp back into her throat. And each time she took it back into her mouth he felt that he would erupt. Miraculously she held off his building orgasm by alternately sucking and jacking.
His buttocks were pumping furiously against her now, driving the shaft into her gulping young mouth. He felt a jolt through his whole body and knew that the moment had come, but again she pulled the cock out of her sucking mouth and jacked it furiously. Two little spurts of come leaped from the opening in his cock, and in a flash she had the blood-gorged tool back into her mouth. She sucked it back deep into her throat and began gulping as the first wave of sperm shot forth. Now she gulped and swallowed, gulped and swallowed, accepting all he had to offer.
"Baby, I'm going to blow it all!" he warned.
Tearing into his buttocks with her hands, she bobbed her head in a frenzy and sucked on. The heavy head of his prick seemed to fill her whole mouth but somehow she kept the tool moving in rapid strokes back into her throat and out into her mouth each time. She ate his cream expertly; each time he drew up to shoot another wad, she let the cock steady just at her tongue, so that the long stream of juice would spit the entire distance down freely into her throat "You're going to eat it all!" he barked.
And very willingly she took all the hot gushes of his sperm. Her mouth filled up finally from all the excess but she continued sucking and swallowing. Never in his life had he unloaded such a dearth of love liquid-there seemed no end to it. The cock remained hard as it spit clod after clod and it was as if he had come into a second realm of sperm supply.
Now quickly with her hands she jerked the quivering, spitting prick out of her throat and mouth. A lump of the sticky stuff struck her throat. Rapidly she was pulling the heavy cock downward as she spread her thighs and arched herself backward on the desk.
"No, eat it all!" he commanded.
"I want to ... but I want it in me now ... oh, God, you've got to put that big bastard in my pussy before it dies ... please, come on, while it lasts, I want it to fuck my cunt off!"
"Okay, baby, you asked for it!"
The peach-colored panties were in the way but she was frantically skinning them down off her flaring white hips. He was moving above her and the panties just dangled off one leg that stuck up high into the air. She lay back proudly like a young pleasure creature from some primeval forest The jet-black pubic hair was more profuse than he had seen on any other girl-it lay in silky tangles and spread out all over her divided middle.
His spitting cock had stopped coming but was still very hard and he was ready to fuck harder than he had ever done before. He arched himself down over her body and flipped the last piece of cloth away from her body. The fine, hard tits surged up at him and began to swell, the nipples growing as taut as peach seeds.
"Do you really want me to make love to you, Kathy?" he breathed hotly and unevenly, knowing the answer.
"No," she cooed. "I said I wanted you to fuck me."
"Well, all right!"
His wang was hard as a rock and she slid her tight little ass toward it as she spread her willowy legs. He grabbed her hips and pulled her little box up further and spread the cunt lips open wide. She began to move her hips in a rubbing action against the engorged head of the staff; he felt her slit getting more and more slippery. They both moved slowly now and looked deeply into each other's eyes.
"You've got a great pussy," he breathed heavily- He began to slip the head of it gently between her soaked lips. He couldn't stand it anymore: he reared back and let fly with the spear and it sank quickly and easily down into the young honeyhole. He drew it halfway out and let it plunge to her core harder.
"Oh, yes, that's the way ... fuck it hard! Right on!"
He caught her ass in his hands and lifted her box up several inches. Her legs stuck out wildly in the air and she was already beginning a hunching rhythm. He massaged along her ass divide and rubbed his fingers along the edges of her young slit; he wet his fingers good from her sweet love juices and could feel his prick stiffen up a bit more down in her.
"Down there, fuck it all the way down there!" she shrieked, humping hard on the going rod now. Her pussy felt almost like her mouth had on the insistent dick. She was gritting her teeth and gasping for air and he could tell she had reached a first peak already, as young girls often do, and was going on to higher reaches.
Her hard firm tits were jostling and leaping up against his hairy chest. Her entire middle banged against him hard and their pelvic bones crushed fiercely together. Her long thin legs locked behind his arching, pumping frame now. He bumped his prick against her womb walls and let it go wild with rapid-fire drives.
"Do it! Do it! Do it!" she bellowed, reaching another peak, finished, and went into another cycle with her flashing loins. "I'm dying!" she shrieked. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhh ..."
Not finished even yet, the teacher moved his cock slowly toward around building tumult. Her surging flesh detonated an explosion inside her pussy that literally made the beleaguered desk creak. It seemed now that she was in the throes of many resounding orgasms, coming one after the other in quick succession.
"I'm coming again and again!" she bellowed. "I can't stop it! Oh, my living God, it's wild!"
His tight balls rolled against her fanny as he rammed home his full load; the balls hung right upon the apex of her pussy and ass and touched her hot, syrupy flesh-it gave him a tremendous sense of stimulation. Feeling the stinging tits mashing into his heaving chest also drove him up to the point of release, and then her hands came from out of nowhere and grasped his tight balls. The heavy balls seemed to jump from the touch, and she kneaded and massaged them and mashed around all the welling cream inside them. He was ready now to give her his knock out blow.
"Man, I'm coming again!" she cried. "Again and again! I don't believe it! It's the tenth time! God, pour it on now! This is it!"
The fiery girl spurred his flouncing sides with her heels. She dug the heels hard into his sides and then kicked upward with them and locked them around his neck and pulled him harder downward into her mushy cunt. His left hand gripped her whole hunching bottom and lifted it with each of his deep thrusts. The whole classroom seemed to bounce and reel. Her creamy cavity was completely sprung apart and holding everything he had to offer. The desk creaked and threatened to break under the strain.
"Ah, oh, deep, ah, oh, deep!" she pleaded. "Tear it up, you giant! I don't care if it kills me!"
Though lasting seconds, it seemed to go on forever. He felt his cock surge above any normal peak it had ever achieved and then the release -he continued the mad fucking as he poured it on and on. He felt her peaking again at the same instant, bursting her loins upon his rod to the point that several vessels seemed to explode deep in her love-well. His dick was gushing the creamy come now like a gas station hose.
She screamed out and tightened on him all the more, her tone of voice shifting down to a guttural groan. His dick pushed deep into her womb and continued to spew the syrup. He let her stud herself upon the distended cock then and felt her insides settle into an even piston rhythm. He slipped his other hand beneath her sweet little ass and held her steady as she bucked. She was light as a tenuous sheath of silk, and he remarked silently that she couldn't possibly weigh more than a hundred pounds. It was surely the most delicious, most precious piece of ass he had ever had. God, he thought as she went on fucking his coming rod, just to feel such a sleek little body so well put together in such a small package! He felt himself erupting again, making magical syrup that had no place to go except to spew into that gorgeous gully and overflow down her flailing legs into her ass.
Still with his stiff prod sunk deep, he rolled them over until she came on top of him. He reached around and clinched her tight little ass in his hands; measurably he lifted her box halfway off his dick, lifted and dropped her upon his slick prick. She was smiling down at him now, the sweet smile of a young chick. He kept his hands on her tight Parker House roll and helped her churn up and down to complete still another orgasm for her. His sperm moiled all inside her and ran out down into her pussy hair. He kept his hands on her little rump and ran them occasionally along the lines of her fine, thin body. She began to work down almost tenderly now. The hips flared out from the waist like the spreading plumage of a peacock; her marvelous tits mashed deeper into his hairy chest and lifted off.
"It's all dreamy now," she moaned. "I'm coming right now ... but it's all dreamy ... I can't believe this ... a dozen times in a row. I'm afraid I'm about to faint. I'm sorry... but it's so dreamy ... I've got to finish oooooohhhhh ..."
He gripped her sweet ass, all of it, with his palm and then they both went limp. She lay on his body and wept softly, that wonderful weeping of fulfilled desire.
CHAPTER FOUR
"Don't we have a little unfinished business, baby?"
"Oh, God, I don't know ... I'm scared ... what if John came home and ... caught us. Oh, God! He's just been so horrible lately."
"Don't think about him. Think about me."
"Yes, yes," she murmured. "Oh, darling
"
They came together frantically; their hands went all over, feeling, renewing old sensations, trying to quell the ongoing dread that accompanies forbidden desire. His hands raced under her dressing gown and found her large breasts; he tickled and turned and massaged them until she let out a quick moan.
"Phil, we don't have time ... oh, God, I want you to fuck me so badly ... we don't have time ... we mustn't."
"But we must," he groaned. "God, baby, don't stop me now-I've dreamed all this time about your beautiful cunt. I've got to taste it again. I've got to put my dick in it."
"Later, please, Phil,- later
"
"No! Right here and right now!"
Abruptly he pushed her over on the living room carpet. Already his hands were dividing the robe, revealing her long and voluptuous body, the abundant triangle of blond hair there upon her vibrating cunt. He swam up to her, stopping to mouth the upturned boobs, to kiss and suck the pink nipples that throbbed at his touch. He kissed his way back down her middle, into the deep swell at her navel, on down to the silken mount upon her pelvis. He pushed his mouth onto her blond pussy and sucked the little clitoris out; he rammed his tongue all around and deep into the sweet juicy hole. His cock was aching at her knees, dabbing around in and out of the dividing there. He sucked the clitoris hard and furiously until she began to beat her crotch hard against his face. When she was in the middle of her clitoral orgasm he pulled away and spread her legs fast.
"Awwwwwwwwww!" she screamed. "God, do something, anything! I don't give a fuck! Let the world know, only do something! I'm dying!"
And instantly he was upon her. Her hands flashed down and caught the head of his prick and guided it into her pussy. He pushed hard as she hunched upward, and they were locked together undeniably.
He began right off, not bothering to build up to a matched rhythm with her. Bracing his leg against a French Provincial couch, he began roaring his cock with lightning strokes into her heaving pussy. Because she had already reached a peak, she began to come instantly, her whole deep-seated fountains flushing violently upward.
He poured all his youthful strength into her; he loved it, this balling with a super cool chick who really knew how to pump up a guy. He clasped her hips and felt waves of hot love scent issuing from her gyrating pussy. He decided it was time to give her all his juice.
And just like a flash he was finished, she was finished, and there had hardly elapsed five minutes. Quickly, as though rejuvenated by the erotic moments, she pulled herself from beneath him. He was standing in a moment, holding her close. She helped him zip his fly after tucking the darling toy back inside. He stood at the door a minute just looking at her beautiful face.
"Oh, wow," she sighed.
"Out of sight," he laughed, feeling her boobs one last time. He held her close a moment and kissed her tenderly. She drew away, smiling, a cloud of mist in her blue eyes.
"Phil, you'd better go now."
"Yes, I know. I just had to see you, baby."
"I'm glad you did. Oh, I forgot ... has John done anything yet about your case?"
"Not a thing. But don't worry about me. Man, I don't care about that anymore, really. Now that I've met you, Jill, it just doesn't seem to matter."
"Of course it matters, darling. I want you to..."
"Ssh, baby. Don't worry about me. Now, I'd better cut out before the old prof really catches me ch ..."
"Cheating?" she asked with a slight frown. "Was that what you were going to say?"
"I didn't mean it that way. You know that, baby."
"I know," she smiled.
He went out reluctantly and she simply stood indulging in the quick flush of the moment. She had not thought about consequences at all, nor did she care to. It didn't matter-she was utterly lonely and her husband appeared totally unconcerned about it. Therefore she had reached out for another kind of affection. She didn't even put it in so many words-for these days she was only controlled by feelings. People just trying to get their little share of affection in the world, and what's wrong with that? It was better than fighting wars and killing children and old people or robbing poor beleaguered masses out of what was their birthright.
Standing in a daze of spontaneous flux, Jill did not even hear the doorbell the first two times. Her gown gaped open and her hair was disheveled; her face was quite flushed, in fact her whole body tingled with that special surface aura of love-color.
The door creaked open and she turned slowly, still under the influence and hardly conscious of her appearance. A face peered in, looked all around. It could have appeared to be some diabolical mask-the features were drawn, warped looking, and the eyes were ancient orbs of evil.
"Mrs. Simmons? Jill? Is that you, my dear?"
"Uh ... what... who is it?"
"It's Dr. Dale, my dear. What's the matter? Are you ill? You look absolutely inundated, Jill."
"Oh," she sighed demurely. "I ... er..." For the life of her she could not speak. Slowly her senses came back to her and she realized the full significance of this situation. She quickly jerked her robe together and tried to walk away from Dr. Dale, the meddling old fool.
"Are you ill, Jill?" he asked again pointedly.
"Ill? No, I'm not ill ... no ... nothing's the matter. I've just been lying down ... no, I mean..."
He laughed then. There seemed something different about him; before, in the few times she had talked to him along the garden path or at the boring cocktail parties, he had been stuffy and polite. Now, his eyes pierced at her, took in all her nakedness under the thin robe. He was visibly undressing her and she could feel it, and a wave of shame and guilt swept over her.
"John's not here right now, Dr. Dale. He's still at the office working on his article."
"Don't you think I know John's not here, my dear?" he chuckled. "Didn't I just see that young Adonis of yours flying out of here? Ho, ho, darling Jill, don't underestimate an older man who sees many things."
"I don't understand, Dr. Dale. I... I,.."
"Come, come now, my dear. No need for pretense with Dr. Dale. It's quite all right, you know. But there's no need for you to try to cover up. No, indeed."
"Listen, I've got this headache, so would you like to have a drink and wait for John? Please, you must excuse me."
"Where are you going?" he asked abruptly.
She had made a motion toward the hall, away from his lecherous eyes. He reached out and stopped her, grabbed her arm and held her firmly. His grip was strong, vicious; he held on while his eyes scanned up and down her figure, all the while smiling devilishly.
"I'm going to the bedroom to lie down a little while."
"Good," he nodded. "I'll go with you."
"Now, look!" she snapped, trying to bluff. "This has gone far enough. I know you are John's superior, but that certainly doesn't permit you to barge into his house and ..."
"And what?" he cackled. "Barge into his house and seduce his wife? No? Like that student of his has just done? And don't tell me you and that stud Phil Evans haven't been in here just now screwing each other's eyes out. Can't you see I have eyes, and ears? Why, my dear, I even heard you scream out something perfectly Anglo-Saxon just a few minutes ago. Therefore, being very human myself and given to such sweet cravings, I think it altogether fitting and proper that I be granted the same favors as some mere green-eared student? Now, wouldn't you agree, pussycat?"
"Dr. Dale," she said in exasperation, "I know you are playing some horrible practical joke. But please, I don't find it very amusing. Now, would you please just stop it and leave me alone!"
"No, my dear. I shan't leave you alone!"
His tone changed abruptly and she could tell he meant business. All of a sudden she felt trapped; it was all like a nightmare, a dream that begins beautifully and turns into sheer terror. He advanced toward her; he was tall and surprisingly thin, but his face was like the ancient mask of age. His eyes fixed luridly on her body and would not let go. She thought surely that she would be sick.
"Please," she begged as he reached out to grasp her again.
"You needn't treat me as though I were some monster. Really, Mrs. Simmons ... Jill ... I know what sort of woman you are. I could tell the first moment I saw you. You're too much woman for any one man, and that fool of a husband of yours doesn't realize that. But I do, you see. Now, you've given yourself freely to the first punk who came along. Why don't you try being just a little nice to me. You might even find it amusing, and I might surprise you. I've been known to surprise others just as lovely ... and just as lonely ... as you, my dear. Come, just relax. Do it for old Dr. Dale, that's a darling. Give old Dr. Dale an even chance ... you won't be sorry, I promise you."
"My God," she murmured, unable to move now. She felt tears welling up but they would not come. If only I could cry now, she thought desperately, maybe that would frighten him off. If only I could slap him even. But she stood immobile as his hands roughly made their way about her body outside the thin gown. The aged hands were stroking her sides, her buttocks, darting now and then playfully into her pubic area. She let her arms dangle at her sides and just stood gasping for breath that would not come evenly.
"Why, you're trembling," he smiled. "Don't be afraid, Jill. Don't be afraid of Dr. Dale. He just wants to touch you and feel your pure, beautiful body like all those other men you've known, like that green little kiddie you just let twiddle your sweet little twat."
He continued talking to her in a low, mockish tone, as he had his way with fondling her body all over. She felt his fingers digging into her vagina then, dipping into the wetness and splashing around. Feebly she tried to pull her body away from his lecherous hands but he would not be denied. Now he was pushing his own bony limbs against her and surging his pelvis against her leg.
"Please," she pleaded again. "Please, Dr. Dale..."
Just then they both heard a key turn in the back door. She jumped back in a start but the good doctor only smiled. Playfully he shrugged and reached out to touch her boobs, but she moved enough to avert the hand, and he simply patted her shoulder before walking over and sitting down on the couch. He turned and whispered: "Remember, my dear, that discretion is oftentimes a virtue."
And then John Simmons moved into the room. He stood there at the doorway from the kitchen and saw his wife in the flimsy robe; he recognized his superior then sitting primly on the couch.
"Ah, John," Dale began. "Burning the midnight oil again. Whatever am I going to do with you if you keep this torrid pace up? You see, I've had to stop by and entertain your lonely wife."
"Thank you," John said blandly. "Finishing up to my historical project Have you had a drink?"
"Ah, no, I believe not. I was just taking my constitutional out around the neighborhood and I saw Jill's light. We've been having a nice little chat about ... flowers and things. Haven't we, Jill?"
"Er, yes, yes we have," she mumbled. "If you two will excuse me now ..."
"Certainly, Jill," Dale swaggered. "And I hope we can continue our little chat again soon. Promise me?"
"Goodnight," she said simply.
"I'll take my leave too, John," Dale said, getting up. "But, oh, by the way, I've been meaning to ask what's come of the cheating case."
"Oh, you mean Phil Evans?"
"The very one."
"I haven't decided yet."
"Well, John, let me caution you that campus grapevine will soon get wind of it. You'd better act fast. I don't believe you've even filed a report with the dean yet, have you?"
"No, no I haven't. I've been so damn caught up . . ."
"Tsk, tsk. You know the rules, John."
"I'll take care of it soon, Dr. Dale."
"That's a good boy. Well, goodnight happy people. You both look absolutely charming together. If ever there was a more happily united couple, it would have to be in fairyland."
The good, kind old doctor went out with his usual aplomb, leaving John standing there in a strained state. Jill stood for a moment looking at him. She turned and stared at the door, seemed to stumble, and ran from the room.
CHAPTER FIVE
For the remainder of the week they hardly spoke; in fact, Jill stayed in her bedroom most of the time he was home and openly avoided even casual conversation. On Thursday he got ready to leave for the historical conference where he was going to present his paper.
"I have a lecture at nine and I will be leaving right afterward," he said at the breakfast table. "So I'll pack a suitcase now."
She only nodded. In reality she was happy that he was going to be gone for the long weekend. She did not know what she would do with herself, but it would be a welcome relief to get the strain of having to be around him lifted from her. He went to the bedroom, got out his suitcase, and methodically and silently got ready to depart. She wandered through the lonely house: there was nothing to do. She could be a good little wife, she thought sarcastically, and wash the windows; she could get out in the yard and mess around with John's rose bushes. But then old lecherous Dr. Dale might come along to gape at her.
"My God!" she cried out. She had completely forgotten old Dale and his sinister plot the other night. "He knows John will be leaving. Oh, my God ..."
Panic struck her; she rushed through the house to the bedroom. She thought first that she must tell John about Dr. Dale, about the dirty little scene the other night. No, she knew she could never bring herself to tell him-it would tear up John's career, it would bring an open breach, and she would be the cause of it. She knew that deep down John would blame her. She stopped short at the door and bit her lip nervously.
"What is it?" he asked. "Jill, is something wrong?"
"No," she mumbled. "I'm all right."
He snapped his suitcase closed and walked to her. Now his expression was clear, even sympathetic. Maybe he was beginning to see through things. She didn't know what to do. She simply tried to look away, to hide her pained expression.
"Jill, what is it?"
"Oh, John," she cried. "I think I'll go crazy if I have to stay in this house alone."
He reached for her; she hesitated. And then she was standing with her arms about him, sobbing. He comforted her silently for a long while with his broad arms about her. Slowly he drew her face up and kissed her lips tenderly. She was crying now unashamedly.
"Darling," he said. "I'm so sorry. I know you have been under a terrible stress, and I haven't helped at all. I would ask you to come with me, but I think that would even be worse for you. It's a bitch of a thing really, those old boring papers and meetings. But I've got an idea. Why don't you let me call the airport and make reservations for you to go home for the weekend. I know you would enjoy seeing all your old friends."
"Oh, John, do you really think it would be all right?"
"Would you like that?"
"Yes, I really would. Anything. I just can't bear to think of staying here alone for four days."
"Then I'll call right now. Do you think you can be ready to leave this afternoon? I'll get you the first afternoon flight."
"Oh, John, thank you."
He went to the telephone and called the terminal; later he came back and told her that he had arranged a flight for late that afternoon. "You can get a taxi, and you'll be in the city by midnight. Perhaps you'd better call someone to meet you. And the return flight is Sunday morning ... so it will work out just perfectly."
Strangely then the mood of depression had been snapped, but still underneath it all was the same tendril problem. He picked up his bag and walked to the door. He paused a minute, looked at her, and put the case down. In a moment he was back at her side, embracing her again. He lifted her face and gave her a very tender kiss.
"Jill," he said seriously. "Maybe this will all work out. I truly want it to."
"So do I, John."
"Maybe this trip will be good for both of us. Maybe a few days will give us a little time ... to settle a few things ... in our minds. I'll see you Sunday."
"John," she called. "Thank you."
Not a sense of well being, but something akin to relief held her now. Throughout the morning she went about the house in a mellow dream. Perhaps it was John's extra consideration that now uplifted her-she was not sure, for whenever she thought of him she remembered the weeks and months of loneliness. Occasionally the thought of Phil came into her brain and she tried to cancel it out. "That is over," she said to herself. "It simply is ended." But still she couldn't rid herself of lingering emotions; she felt again his urgent body pressing hers down, she experienced the mystical release of their bodies suspended in fulfillment. It was too much, too much. "I'll think about that later," she said, getting her bags out to pack. "There will be an answer .,. later ... right now I'm just getting away from it all."
At noon she found that she wasn't hungry. She fixed herself a Scotch and water to stave off any lingering anxieties. Her bags were all packed and by the door; she had written the taxi-cab number on the small blackboard in the kitchen. All was ready. She sat down, put on a record, and sipped her drink leisurely. There were still two hours to kill before time for the flight.
Finishing the drink, and feeling just a bit tipsy because she had not eaten all day, she impulsively picked up the phone and dialed Phil's number. It wasn't until she heard his voice that she realized she had actually called him. He answered again, quizzically, and finally she spoke.
"Hello, Phil," she almost whispered.
"Jill, is that you? Jill? Baby?"
"It's me, darling. I just wanted to hear your voice. I'm going away this afternoon."
"You're going away? You're not!"
"Wait, darling," she managed a smile to herself. "It's only for a few days. John's gone to that convention and he suggested I go home for a few days. I'll be back Sunday."
"Oh," he sighed. "You scared me for a minute. I thought you meant for good. I don't know what I'd do if you went away, baby."
"You're sweet."
"So are you baby. Oh, wow. Jesus, I'd like to see you right now."
"Wasn't the other night enough?" she teased.
"Never enough, baby. I'm crazy about you, don't you know that?"
"Phil, when I get back we've got to have a talk. Phil, I think what we're doing is wrong. Phil, I think we've got to stop seeing each other."
"Don't talk like that," he said morosely. "I couldn't take that, baby, I just couldn't."
"But it is wrong, Phil. We both know it. Oh, it's too much, darling. It's too beautiful. I'm not good for you. I'm older than you and I'm married and I'm just messing up your life. Phil, darling..."
"Jill, promise me that you won't think about it until you get back. Will you promise? Promise me that you'll see me as soon as you can. Babe, we can work it out, please."
"I promise. You're a wonderful person. You make me feel so good. Just hearing you is enough."
"Jill, baby ... don't go ... come to me instead."
"I can't, Phil. I wish with all my heart I could, but I can't. But thank you for wanting me.
"Will I see you again?"
"Yes. Goodbye darling."
She felt both elated and melancholy after she talked to him. She fixed another Scotch and drank it more rapidly. It was still more than an hour until her flight, and she could find nothing to do but think. It all seemed so hopeless but she knew she had to see Phil again.
The drinking began to take its toll of her. She got up and really discovered how inebriated she was getting. "Wow, can't stand uppp," she lisped. She tried to walk to the phone and had to hold onto the walls. "Hump, no more booze," she giggled. "What I need is hot coffee, got to sober up a little. Wife of history professor looped on a plane. Wow, that would be great!
What I need is hot coffee ... damn it all, what I need is that beautiful body of his ... Phil, darling ... I just love the way he calls me baby ... oh, Jesus..."
Leaves were falling down in the front yard; she stood at the window a minute and looked at the clusters of reds and burnt oranges melting down in her dizzy gaze. "That's what it is," she murmured. "You spend all your time getting enough nourishment in you to be full, complete, and then you get lifted off the branches ... and all you know is one brief little ride down ... damn it, damn it, just to be a bright color is not enough, not enough."
She thought she heard the fallen leaves stir. She paused a minute to listen, but then she knew it was getting time to call the cab. Then she thought she heard a tapping at the back door. She went into the kitchen and saw the door opening inward very slowly.
"No, no!" she shrieked.
"Don't do that!" a voice replied sternly.
And then he was inside, and she felt utterly trapped. Dr. Dale waited a moment as if to consider what he might do if she screamed or made violent protest. Then she slumped against the wall. He was smiling.
"Jill, Mrs. Simmons, well, here we are."
She stood against the wall with her eyes closed; a flush went through her whole body, like dizzy flashbacks. It was just too much, she kept saying over and over, just too much. From the back of her dulled brain she heard a voice warning her to get a grip on herself. She opened her eyes again. It was just a silly old man indulging in one of his pet perversions of picking on defenseless young women.
"Shall we continue our little chat of a few days ago?" he said serenely now, coming toward her. "I don't really frighten you now, do I Jill?"
"No, you don't frighten me. You just make me feel all creepy. Look, Dr. Dale, I've got a plane to catch."
"Tut tut, there are many flights," he laughed, reaching out. "I know John left this morning, so surely you're not going with him. What have you got schemed up in that pretty little head of yours, Mrs. Simmons? You're not off on some amorous tryst with that Phil Evans fellow, are you?"
"No, I'm not. I'm going home for the weekend. If you'll kindly leave me alone..."
"Well now, you wouldn't want certain things to come to your husband's attention, now would you?"
He reached out again and touched her skin; she pulled the arm away; he reached further and jostled her breast and she recoiled as though stung by an adder. He merely laughed and cupped the firm object with his entire hand.
"You are so absolutely lovely," he seemed to drool. "So sensual and vital. My dear, passion just pours off you ..."
At that she laughed out loud and turned away. "That's the corniest thing I've ever heard," she tried to swagger out the bluff.
"Why, Mrs. Simmons!" he exclaimed. "I do believe you've been drinking! And in the middle of the day! I do believe you are actually inebriated! How lovely!"
Wherever she went he followed, drooling. And actually the drinks she consumed had now taken the edge off her fear of him; under other conditions this might have been disgustingly quaint to her, but now she only thought of getting rid of him conveniently, without causing a large scene. She felt her mind working a bit more smoothly now: how to get rid of this old lecherous devil? Hell, she could handle him; any woman could handle any man if she knew what the game was, and she figured dizzily now that the game was touch-and-tease.
"Yes, Dr. Dale, I've had a little drink," she said coyly. "Would you like me to fix you one? I have a little time before the flight."
"No, my dear, I don't drink. Liquor, that is. I take a different kind of nectar. For instance..."
He came up behind her and caught her off guard for a moment. His old arms went around her and grasped both her breasts and held her while his hot breath came down on her neck. He bit firmly into her skin and ran a flaccid tongue along the base of the neck, sending a spooky chill down her spine. His hands worked and worked on her boobs, and he was trying to turn her around.
"Whoa, you sly devil," she continued the tease. "You are naughty and I'll have to keep my distance now. Just think, is that the way for a sweet old, kindly professor to act?"
"You're damn right!" he growled. She could tell he was heating up, and now she knew she had to try another tact. Thinking that he was all bluff, she decided to make a frontal attack. It was games that these old geezers wanted to play. As a secretary she had had some experience with this type-the outwardly sedate older business executives, who in private liked to pinch their young secretaries, put their arms around them in the private office, run their hands over the bodies of the juicy young girls.
"You know, you're kind of cute," she smiled coyly. "Why can't we be nice friends?"
"Aha! I knew you had it in you, Mrs. Simmons. That's exactly what I had in mind. So, be friendly..."
He tried a frontal attack and she let herself be pulled into his arms. He was pressing his body against her hard and trying to move them backward to the couch. His hands rubbed up and down her back, up under the blouse to the flesh of her back, down under the skirt to cup her round buttocks hard.
"Like that?" she tried to giggle.
"That's not all I like, you little vixen!"
"Oh, wow, I've never been called a vixen before. You are just full of charming old expressions, Dr. Dale."
"I'm full of many things," he laughed gruffly, pawing at her blouse in an attempt to get it off. She eluded him the first time but his hands were back immediately, and before she knew it her blouse was open down the front and he was ripping at the bra. My God, what do I do? she asked herself desperately. Still thinking it was a bluff, she knew she had to keep him occupied until she could make an escape. Letting the old coot see her tits wouldn't matter that damn much; she would lead him along, bring him up to a point, and then that would end it; she was sure he couldn't do much but leer and paw around anyway.
"Don't pull like that, please," she implored. "Ill unsnap it."
She reached around, while pushing his hands away, and undid the bra, and then she stepped away in a mock pose for him to view her naked breasts. A cool shaft of air made her shiver, giving the appearance of heightened emotion. The nipples became very erect. She just looked at him and watched him stare at her boobs hungrily.
"Yes, yes, just as I imagined," he nodded, his eyes burning hotly into her. "Large and firm and perfectly pointed ... they are simply classical, my dear. Such lovely breasts I haven't perused since my sabbatical to Sweden a few years back. You are like those beautiful blonde girls of Sweden, my dear. Tall and strong but thoroughly feminine ... and the essence of a man's desire."
With that he rushed her. Being off balance, she caught the brunt of his attack; he pushed her over onto the couch and his mouth went immediately to the tossing mounds. His hands cupped them up tight and his teeth bit harshly at the tips. She tried vainly to heave him off her, but his strength was amazing and she was weakened in resistance by the strong drink. His hands went about her and tried to pull the skirt down; now one of the grubby paws was under her ass and feeling in the hair of her anus; she shifted about and tried to fight him any way she knew how, but he obviously thought she was playing instead and her urgings simply passed for response.
"No, no," she stuttered.
"Yes, oh yes."
Now his lecherous fingers were digging into her cunt, trying to tear through the panties; she felt the long fingers plunging further down, scraping the walls of her liquid love canal. He had one hand at her ass and another at her cunt, holding her box in the vise, while he worked his horny head furiously upon her jutting tits. She was pinned down like a Saracen on a lance.
"No, God no!" she shrieked.
"Come on, damn it," he grunted. "You know you like it. All women like it! You won't admit it, darling little Jill, but you're getting hot as hell. That husband can't satisfy you, and that young punk wasn't enough. I know you, little bitch. You were made to fuck and you live to fuck! I can do anything I want to you and you'll love it. Just because I'm older doesn't turn you off-it just turns you on more. I'm old, yes, damn you, I'm old, but I know how to handle a hot bitch like you! I've had a thousand women in my life and not a one has been disappointed! I'm old, damn you, but I'm strong! I'm not flabby like most young men-I'm lean and hard and I can outrun men half my age! I can do a hundred push-ups and not take a deep breath! And I can fuck the eyes off any bitch like you!"
"Heigh ho Tarzan!" she tried to taunt him with insult. She realized that he was trying to stimulate her, a ruse of old men, by cutting it all down to the grimy grunts of animals rutting away at each other. It always turned her off- but strangely she felt no fear of him even as he indulged in his ranting. She just wanted his big old body off hers-he was despicable, and he would have been the same if he were twenty.
"You want me to fuck you, bitch!" he kept it up.
"I just want you to leave me alone," she muttered.
"Don't give me that, bitch! Your pussy is as creamy as a gravy bowl!"
"If you think I'm going to let you fuck me, you're out of your gourd!" she snapped angrily.
Her anger only served to urge him on. Now he was ripping her panties all the way off, tearing them in shreds as he yanked. Harshly he tried to pull her legs apart but she held them together sternly. To throw her off guard he snaked a finger up under her ass and lodged it quickly in her anus, causing her to hunch upward in pain. Thrown off momentarily, she was unable then to keep him from spreading her legs wide apart. He was gaping down into her pussy then, literally foaming at the mouth over this blond treasure.
"Now, there it is!" he barked out. "God, that's the seat of it all! Look at that red meat there! All that blond hair and those lovely lips just aching to be mauled! Yes, that little quim could take all the horns of the world on and not twitch! But look at it twitch! Don't tell me you don't want it now, lady!"
She feared now that he would become violent; there was no way to figure these old savages. As he pawed over her, his own crotch came in contact with one of her flailing arms; she felt the still-soft phallus, and only that served to still her rising fears. It was true then that he was the pawing type who could never get down to the hard core of erection. She was trapped, pinned down, and her wits told her to bear it out until she could maneuver him away.
"I'm going to eat that red meat!" he balled. "I'm going to eat the pussy of the most beautiful cunt in the world! And it's just waiting for me!"
"Oh, God, please stop! If you have any feelings whatsoever, Dr. Dale, please let me go!"
"Let you go? Why, damn you, whore, you'd beg for crumbs at a feast! Women! The devil take them and their insane logic! I'll let you go down!"
He was pulling her down, splaying her ripe belly with his hands, running his fingers freely into her cunt and feeling the abundant juice of her cunt walls. Her legs were spread far apart and his hands were pulling them wider; he was so damn agile, so fast, and she was drugged by the booze just enough to offer only feeble resistance. He worked his slobbering mouth down, lathering her body as he went. He crossed the vibrant skin time and again with his moist tongue; she felt the hot object at her cunt hair, felt it flash back up to her stomach and into the navel. She shuddered once and hated the feeling she was now getting. Finally he pushed his head down onto the warm-wet love hole.
"I'm going to eat it up!" he bellowed.
And his lips touched her pussy lips! His tongue darted through the opening lips and pronged against the hard little clitoris; the tongue moved all around, became a flat layer of leather. He was trying to wrap her legs around his neck as he ground his head hard now into the hot wet spot She beat at his head with her fists, but he only took that as part of the wildness of the act. Futilely she beat at his head and shoulders but he pronged on deeper with his working tongue. Now he made huge slurping noises that completely repulsed her. But the inevitable massaging of the clitoris was breaking her defense down. Hating the building fever in her lathing pussy, she let her arms fall limp. Something began to quiver deep inside her, quivered in rhythm to the grinding of his mouth upon her pussy. His tongue took on a frenzied animation then, began gyrating from side to side in boiling heaving's.
"No, no, oh God no!" she screamed. But the inevitable was beginning to happen. His hands groped and pulled at her saucy ass; he darted a couple of fingers deep into her cunt and jabbed without mercy. On and On he sucked and slurped greedily until she felt a terrific jolt in her cunt walls and knew she had reached an unwanted but undeniable peak.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
She moaned for many long seconds until the hateful release spent itself. She opened her eyes then and saw his head feverishly working still on her pussy. It was over, it was horrible, but it was done. With one strong heave she levered him off her spread-eagled love spot, knocked him off completely. She rolled over, fell off the couch, and began to crawl away from him.
"Aha!" he bellowed. "There it goes! What a lovely ass you have, my dear! Ass of a goddess! See how it jiggles, see the fine line of fur up the middle as it wiggles! Here, it is saying, come to daddy! The port is open!"
She heard ruffling noises behind her but she did not look; tipsy though she still was, she was sober enough to know that this was the chance to escape. She dared not pause to stand up, but went on crawling now as fast away from him as she could. She heard more ruffling, stripping noises, as though someone were undressing in a hurry.
"Here I come into the port!" he called.
She crawled on desperately but knew she was making little progress; he was simply too agile, and in that she had fully underestimated him. Now she heard thudding noises and knew he was crawling quickly after her. He caught her at the entrance of the hallway. His grubby hands reached out and caught her flipping hips as she tried to pull away.
"Got it! Caught the little bird! Going to put a little salt on its tail now!"
"No, please! Oh, damn you, damn you!"
They were frozen isometrically for a moment, pulling hard against each other, and they were being trapped now in the animalistic position of coupling wolves. His arms went around her middle and she tried to throw them off. She felt something touching her buttocks, something grainy and thick. One of his hands was trying to lift her buttocks off the floor. Now his other arm circled her waist in a viselike grip; his large palm locked in the swell of her stomach.
"God, what a lovely hole you've got, Mrs. Simmons! It is even finer from behind!"
She lurched forward but was unable to break his grip; she strained hard and fell a bit forward, leaving her head down on the carpet and her rear stuck upward. His other hand jammed into her wet pussy then; he hurt her tremendously but kept trying to get the hand down into her cunt.
"My God, you're killing me!" she cried. "Yes, a maiden must die!" he barked. "Did you know that the Renaissance word for climax was die? Aha! All those bawdy ballads about maidens dying! So, my dear, you shall die! I will try to make you die!"
The thick grainy things that she had felt was pressing against her ass again; he had her trapped in this new position now and it was impossible to move. The grainy thing was poking and poking around on her bottom. His fingers began to jab into her cunt again-two fingers went in deep, spread apart, and stretched her pussy wide. And then the grainy thing was poking inside her.
"No, no you don't!" she screamed. But she knew it was all the more futile for her protests. She knew that his cock was going into her pussy now, slowly, harder than she had imagined, sliding easily down into her love canyon. It was beginning to grow more and more; the thing felt even thicker and grainier than before and still on it came until she could feel it entering the lips of her womb.
"How about that, lovely one?" he called again. "It's a nice big long one, my dear. Feel it? Aren't you just dying to have more? Please, have more! I told you once before that you would be surprised. And that's not all either! It's not as hard as it can get. I doubt that you could take it like that."
The huge phallus continued its slow descent into her creamy love well; with each inch it seemed to expand a little bit more. Deep down in her womb now the head of it was throbbing incessantly, causing her to flinch for all the probing pain. She was about to split in two, she thought, and she began to moan and flinch all over; she tried to pull herself off it, but that only seemed to give him more direction.
"Now, there it is!" he said in a final lurch that caused inscrutable pain to envelope all her lower region. The huge cock was stuck fast in her body; he had locked his pelvis against her ass, and she could feel his tight balls mashed hard against her pussy.
"It's killing me!" she cried.
"Yes, good, good! Now you can die!"
He began humping hard then against her ass, pulling backward for support with his hand on her belly. He drew the cock out halfway and plunged it back in; he repeated the movement, adding fervor to each blow. Soon he was roaring blow upon blow down into her saturated love hole.
Her breath would not come; she felt completely full, fuller than any other time before; she felt her breath being jarred out of her with each fucking plunge of the huge pole. She knew she was about to suffocate. It was too late; she had played it all wrong; she had underestimated the old devil's power. The only thing to do was get it over with as soon as possible. She began to hunch backward in mock response, hoping to throw him off and get him to peak prematurely. Trick him, fool him, any way, she said to herself desperately.
"No you don't!" he snapped. "You don't fool me that way, bitch! I've got something else in store for you!"
Grasping her churning belly hard, he withdrew the obese tool and held her still. Now his hand was moiling at her pussy, rubbing the abundant love juice all around; and then the hand went to the other opening, massaged the anal place tenderly at first. And then he was putting a finger into the opening; he rammed the finger deep into her ass and pulled it out quickly. She screamed in pain. He repeated the action, using two fingers; the pain was not as bad the second time; he did it again; the hole was becoming overly lubricated.
"Now, the piece de resistance!" he barked.
Splaying open her ass, he put the head of his monstrous tool there and pushed a bit. Braces of shocking pain jolted through her entire body. He withdrew the cock and held her still another moment.
"Oh, God, no! Please, don't do that!" she begged.
Paying no mind, he splayed the hole open again with three fingers; again he brought the cock up to position; again he reared back with his pelvis and rammed the cock into the ass a good three inches. She let out another furious scream, but this time the pain had alleviated a bit. He held the cock in her ass for a long moment.
"That's enough!" she cried. "You've done it, so please, please take it out now! You've done what you really wanted to do to me, Dr. Dale! Oh, please, please ..."
"You're right," he moaned. His tone had suddenly changed. "My dear, you are right. That's what I wanted. I can't help it-it's like an obsession with me. I've done it. But please forgive me now, I can't help myself. I wish I could-oh how I wish I could-but now I can't help myself. I didn't intend to go this far."
Like a maniac then he began to fuck his pole deep into her ass; his grip on her body was that of a savage from some dark age. On and on the cock poured into the unnatural love canal. Welling up inside of her was the strangest mixture of blind rage and incarnate hysteria. Never in her life had she experienced anything like this, and the overwhelming madness of it all had no name.
"Forgive me, forgive me," he kept chanting as he churned against her ass, making the most sickening of flapping sounds. Way up in her the cock throbbed violently as it jerked back and forth; she felt it give a mighty heave, and then she could feel the waves of hot liquid pumping into her. Such strangeness gripped her that otherwise she might have thought herself in the throes of orgiastic frenzy; something snapped within herself and it was no longer pain, neither could she call it pleasure. She only knew in that blind moment that it was the strangest she had ever felt.
He fell away from her and the liquid dripped out and ran all over her pubic area and underneath to her stomach. He lay passive beside her, panting, groping for breath. He seemed now a very old man on the brink of physical collapse. One of these days, old man, she thought bitterly, you are going to kill yourself. It would be apt justice.
"Forgive me, forgive me," he whimpered.
"Just get out," she snapped. She crawled over to her clothes and tried to cover herself. In a few minutes he had got up and dressed himself again. He stood very contritely at the doorway, like a guilty little kid come to beg for mercy. She simply looked at him coldly.
"Please, Jill, forgive me," he asked.
"Just get out," she said.
"You wouldn't tell John, would you?"
"If you ever so much as come near me ..."
"Please, Mrs. Simmons."
"I mean it."
CHAPTER SIX
John paid the bellhop and stood at the door nervously for several minutes. Finally he reached up and fastened the night latch. He turned around at last and stood immobile. An overriding sense of ruin gripped him-but the ongoing compulsion was still there coursing through his whole being. He looked at the girl standing primly in the middle of the room.
"I can't believe it," she smiled brightly. "It's too marvelous, John. Isn't it wonderful?"
"I don't know, I don't know," he murmured.
"Come here, darling. Let me touch you for the first real time. Here we are-it's our own private world and it's beautiful."
He went to her, embraced her lightly, and muttered to himself that it was all wrong. Why hadn't he put a stop to it when he had the chance? How had he let this daring girl talk him into such a thing? But it was true: like any desperate male he had sneaked off on a rendezvous with a willing young girl who tantalized his every thought. And it was all so wrong, he knew. He should have brought his wife with him -he could see that she had needed him, and there had even been a chance for them to come to grips with their problems. He couldn't help himself; something of late had taken hold of him, changed him into a different person. And now the object of that transformation stood in front of him in all her sensual splendor.
"I'm crazy about you, sir," she said. "I can't wait to get you in that bed. Oh, you do things to me I never thought could be done."
"We might as well make ourselves to home," he said blandly. "I feel strange."
"Don't worry, darling. It will be fine, you just wait and see. Let me take care of you. That's all I want to do-take care of your needs."
He walked around the room as though in a trance. Try as he might he couldn't forget the state he had left Jill in; he felt intractably caught in the dilemma of his own inept making. And here he was, shacked up with a chick who might well be blackmailing him right out of his career. "I certainly was ripe for this," he said to himself cynically. Sooner or later it gets to all teachers who try to live that phony existence. Nobody, goddamn it, could live heroically and courageously, having to go in those classrooms every day and stare down at those sweet syrupy legs and thighs.
"Well, I suppose this sort of thing isn't unusual," he said.
"It is for me," she said, dogging his steps.
"I guess we ought to turn it into an orgy. Isn't that what's supposed to take place?"
"Oh, I certainly hope so," she said in her sultry voice.
Immediately she began to undress. He simply couldn't understand it, but she turned him on so completely that he could think of nothing else. Guilt or duty or responsibility had no meaning-it was only her, the thin, suppleness of her body, her voice, the way she hunched her cunt upon his cock, the way she could do all the things that blew his mind.
"Join me?" she asked.
He gave up to it. Again.
She proved to him that it was no sin to make love. Of all the manifold couplings in the world that were possible, this one could not be judged anything but well done-so much for relative morality.
In short, and in long, he fucked her a total of four times during a short duration before midnight. They teased about the bed for almost an hour before doing it the first time. She even played it a little coy at first, but then she wanted it bad. It was not that she was oversexed -it was just one of those things where two people really turn each other on. He went down on her first, tasted the honey scent of her, and she went crazy with her first orgasm. Just as she was finishing the first clitorial climax he climbed upon her, slipped his dick in quickly, and they fucked harder than even on the hard desk that strange night. She whimpered for almost half an hour at the joy of it.
About an hour later she asked him to fuck her again. This time she wanted on top, and she climbed aboard, showing all her juicy cunt spread above his head. She rode him hard until her pelvis ached and still she fucked him down. His come juice spurted hard up into her, setting out a wave of her own. She sat atop him until they were finally stilled of all energy.
An hour after that she asked him if he wanted to fuck again. He didn't even believe he could until she began kissing his body wetly all over. Last she came to his cock, took the thing deep into her throat, and it came out stiffly alert. She was on her hands and knees and he held her that way until he could move around behind. She asked no question about it whatever, but waited for him to shove his prod in from that direction. She immediately began to come and he found he was stirred up completely. He pumped hard, as if trying to defeat her this time. When he shot off she vibrated violently all the while, and held his dick inside long afterward.
Before midnight they both awoke. He felt all the horns of lust had left his body forever. He turned to her and she smiled sweetly and simply. He felt ashamed now for thinking all those terrible things about her. No girl could do that much and be putting on an act. He couldn't understand this turn of events at all-but he didn't particularly care there in a secluded room hundreds of miles away from his habitat.
"I've got to give a goddamn paper tomorrow morning," he said. "God, that's such a bunch of crap."
"Why don't you just not give it?"
"I've got to give it. It's part of the big show that I'm involved in."
"Is it necessary?"
"Not at all."
"Then just don't do it. What is necessary anyway?"
"What's necessary?" he asked. "One thing. Fucking you."
"I feel a little bit bad about one thing."
"Phil?"
"Yes."
"You think I'm doing him dirty by turning him in?"
"You've got to do what you have to, John."
"No I don't."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, it's so simple that I just couldn't seer it, Kathy. It's my choice and nobody else's. So I really don't have to turn Phil in if I don't want to. And I don't want to, that's all. So by God I think I'll just tell the goddamn bums in the dean's office to go hump it."
"Do you really mean that, John?" she asked excitedly.
"Yes, damn it! It's a great relief!"
"John, are you doing it because you want to, or maybe because you think I've done all this just for ... Phil."
"I don't worry about motives anymore, Kathy. I just feel so goddamn good about it all of a sudden."
"You're beautiful," he said, smiling.
"So are you. And listen, since I don't have to turn in Phil, I don't have to give a damn paper tomorrow either. Fuck the honkie history paper and all the funkies too! Say, what's say we get out of this place? It's served its usefulness, hasn't it?"
"You mean go back home?"
"Yes.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The beleaguered girl sat in a stupor. Nightfall came and still she did not stir. A fever crept over her and she began to tremble, but she mustered no energy to move about. The only sound through the empty house was the melancholy striking of the mantle clock.
She felt fear no longer; she only felt a dull ache sweeping through her body. She tried to focus her eyes on her image in the mirror but she could not. She reached up and touched her cheek and was shocked to find it wet with perspiration. Her eyes were blurred with water. Finally she stood up.
In the mirror now she saw herself and the image was that of a tired old woman. The hazy sight caused her to shrink backward. Got to get myself together, she mumbled. What to do? What to do? She knew she could not take the trip now; she only wanted to find relief from the gnawing pain in her bones. Warm bath, take a warm bath, she told herself. She stumbled to the bathroom and turned on the water, letting it run full of hot steamy water. Though it felt scalding, she threw off her clothes and stepped in; the pain of the extreme heat made her wince but she wanted it hot-she wanted to burn away the dross of the vile old man from her skin.
She sat in the tub until the water was tepid. For the first time in hours she felt human again. Coming into the bedroom, she felt extreme exhaustion. Sleep, go to sleep, she said. But no, she could not sleep, not now. She had to do something, to talk to someone, to find some relief. She rushed to the phone and called Phil's number.
No answer. She waited five minutes and called again. No answer. She waited ten more minutes. She called fifteen times in the next hour. He was not there, and suddenly she felt inconsolably lost, bereft of hope, and utterly lonely.
She threw on a sweater and slacks and went out of the house. She walked down the street briskly, feeling a dull pain growing into an acute ache just over her line of vision. She didn't know where she was headed; she simply walked on, as though she were part of some mournful procession. After several blocks she was on the campus of John's college.
Students drifted about under the lamplights that dimly lit the picturesque campus. She went by the student union and heard much merriment within-loud music and laughing voices that seemed to mock her solitary sojourn. A young couple came bouncing out of the building and down the steps, they flashed by her chattering happily; they even spoke to her as they went along. The old feeling of despondency swept through her, and as she walked along she yearned to be here safe in these academic groves among friends. "Phil," she muttered aloud. "Where are you?"
She knew he lived in an apartment house near the campus-he had mentioned it once at her house. She circled around the main campus, going across the campus green where other lovers were sitting on benches and sprawled on blankets. She decided that she would walk by his apartment-just to be near him and where he might be was enough.
She came to a row of apartment buildings. Confusion gripped her; all the buildings looked alike and she couldn't remember the name of his. She pretended to be strolling by, but she looked at the name of each apartment house as she passed, hoping that the right name would come to her. Now and then a student came out of one of the buildings, but she was too frightened to ask if they knew Phil.
You can't go home, she cried to herself. The thought of going back to that house alone horrified her. She stumbled along the street. At one of the buildings she saw a great deal of activity: many young people going in and out, bustling about. Evidently a Friday night bash was in process. Throwing caution away, she decided to go inside the building, to follow the many others going there, hoping desperately that she might find him somewhere.
She looked on the row of mailboxes inside the lobby; sure enough there was his name. Did she dare go up to his room? And what if he were with another girl? It would kill her, she knew. What if he had just been playing around with her? Had it all been a scheme to get to John? All manner of terrifying thoughts gripped her.
A procession of young people moved down the hallway and outside to a big courtyard. Cautiously she walked behind the others. She came out onto the gaily lit area and saw many couples dancing around the swimming pool. Evidently the party had been going on for hours now and had reached a fever pitch. Loud rock music blasted the air; the dancers worked in bombastic rhythms.
She went by the large table where all manner of hard drinks were being handed out freely. Someone thrust a glass in her hand and patted her bottom. As she weaved through the large, jostling crowd a pair of hands grabbed her from behind and pulled her away. Before she knew it she was in the middle of weaving, gyrating dancers. The hands held her waist, a dark face came to hers and mashed against her mouth. Hands were all over her body.
"Hey, baby, you're a groove!" the voice called out. "Oh, wow, chick, let's go ball!"
Frantically she pulled away. All around the shadows of the pool she saw people indulging in erotic games. A couple sat beneath a clump of hedge and openly made out, the male's head sunken deep in the divide of the chick's thighs. She tried desperately to get through the throng of crazed dancers. She stumbled at the edge of the pool and almost fell into the icy water. She held her balance and made for a narrow pathway between canopied tables. Next she saw right before her a young man sitting between two girls-they were partially shaded from the rest of the party by a high hedge. She stood a moment dazed and with her eyes fixed on the little erotic scene. Both girls were naked to the waist and the young man was fondling first one girl's breasts and then the other. The girls were alternatively kissing his face, his neck, their hands going all over his bulging crotch. She couldn't tear herself away from her narrow vantage point. Now the young man was pulling one of the girls over and spreading her legs; the other girl was taking his cock out of his pants -she bent and took the bulbous head into her cheek and then took it out and jacked it furiously. Now the other girl was ready, and the girl with the cock in her hands helped guide it to the waiting love-hole. The young man began hunching down into the gaping pussy while the other girl pushed against his buttocks with her pelvis. Very soon the three of them were wrapped in a tangled, distorted unity of erotic pleasure.
Finally she averted her eyes, pulled herself away. The party place had become one heaving mass of flesh. Her head felt as though it would explode, and now she knew that she had to get away before she became lost completely. She weaved through the throbbing crowd, knocking into people, feeling hands groping for her, pulling away desperately. Finally she reached the entrance to the boiling din.
She ran as quickly as she could. Far behind her now she heard a calling voice, but it seemed only a taunting spectre. The voice called again but she dared not stop or go back. But very clearly she had heard her own name being called out And then another pair of hands grasped her, stopped her frantic escape. She seemed to go to pieces then-everything inside seemed to explode. It was pointless to strive anymore; she simply yielded to that irresistible force pursuing her.
"Jill... for God's sake, Jill!"
"I don't care ... I don't care ... it doesn't matter," she stammered, falling.
"Jill ... what's wrong ... what are you doing here ... Jill, are you all right? For God's sake! It's me, Phil."
"What? Who?" She opened her eyes and tried to focus. And then she saw the face, that clear and sensitive face with the smiling, melting eyes. It was Phil. She threw her arms around him and wept uncontrollably.
"What's happened to you?" he demanded, picking her up.
"Hold me, darling," she cried. "Please."
"It's all right, baby," he soothed, leading her away. "It's all right. I'll take care of you now."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Late in the night they returned. In his car, they cruised around the sleeply little college town slowly, not wanting to end their time together. He drove through the campus, feeling all the more strange because he was out late and with a beautiful chick sitting close to him. If someone had told John Simmons only a weak before that he would be doing this-while he was supposed to be off in a distant city at an honored convention of his historical society friends -he would have scoffed in his former stuffy way.
But now he simply indulged in the late hour and the brilliant moment. The girl Kathy sat molded to him and he felt as giddy as a high school punk. With her fine, thin legs she massaged his legs; she ran them over and over his flanks and thighs as she caressed his crotch with her hands. Every few seconds she bent over and kissed him on the neck, nibbled at his ear, and blew gently. He drove with one arm and encircled her waist with the other. It was giddy, it was heady, and he could not help from indulging more and more in the pleasure this young thing could give.
"Better take you home soon," he muttered.
"If you want to," she cooed, kissing him full on the lips as he drove slowly. She bent and mouthed his semi-hard cock through the pants, giggled, and continued rubbing his body all over with hers.
The moon had disappeared and the town seemed shrouded now in a pall of Friday somberness. He cruised the campus one more time and was careful not to exceed the speed limits. All he needed was to be picked up by the campus cops, he laughed to himself. He would have to explain to the honkie old dean: man, I was just out with this young chick, and we were driving around, and she was playing with my cock, and man, it got fast.
He turned off the campus avenue and went around the outlying buildings. He made his way through side streets to her apartment house. He drove down the front street and slowed to stop in front of the building. The whole place was lit up, every room in the place, and loud raucous music came from the courtyard.
"Big Friday night bust," she said, stroking him softly.
"What's the occasion?" he asked.
"No occasion. Big party every Friday night. They have to celebrate getting through another week of hell."
"That doesn't say much for the college, does it?" he said with a frown.
She shrugged and came against him fully. She bent over his face, smiling, and kissed him long and searchingly; her fine little tongue darted in and out of his mouth deliciously, and he found himself miraculously being stirred up again.
"It seems like we've been gone for ages, John," she murmured. "And it was only this morning that we left."
"Yeah," he laughed. "We moved fast, didn't we?"
"I wish the night would never end. I wish . . ."
"But it must."
A group of young people came staggering out of the apartment house-there was a tall girl in the middle of them and they were all teasing and pulling at her. When the watchers in the car looked close, they discovered that the girl was wearing Only a pair of bikini panties. Several young men were moving along, pinching and squeezing at her huge breasts.
"My God, what are they doing?" John asked incredulously.
"Oh, that's big Becky. She's got the biggest boobs in school. Every time she gets gassed she does that."
"Jesus!"
"They are big, aren't they?"
He looked on in amazement until the little scene passed out of sight down the alleyway. Just as they went around the corner John saw two of the youths pick the statuesque girl up together and hold her high as they walked.
"What are they going to do?" he asked.
"Who knows? You could probably guess."
They sat for a few more minutes; the girl cleaved to him, would not let him go. She was talking lowly and whispering into his ear, stirring up his weltering cock again. Finally he grabbed her roughly and bent her over in the front seat of the car. She was trying to spread her legs to let him get at her vibrating pussy again.
"John, do I have to go in now? Can't I stay with you?"
"You mean go home with me?"
"Why not?"
"Well, I don't know. . . ."
"Isn't your wife gone?"
"Yes."
"Please, John, let me sleep with you, just once at least."
Without pondering it further he made up his mind. Why the hell not? The house was there and empty and here was this most sensual girl. He pulled himself up and put the car in gear. They sped off quickly, the girl meshed to his side once more.
CHAPTER NINE
He opened the door and waited for the girl to go in before him. She walked in cautiously, almost in embarrassment. It was very dark, but he walked through the kitchen and den and stood at the hallway waiting for her. Then, he heard the soft strains from the stereo-music wafted softly through the still house.
"Dr. Simmons?" she whispered. "Is it all right..."
"Yes," he said softly. "My wife must have left the stereo on when she left. She does that all the time."
They paused in the hallway and she reached out for him; she came into his arms, wrapped her arms around his neck for reassurance. He bent and kissed her tenderly.
"It's all right, baby. The whole house is ours. Jill won't be back until Sunday."
"I just can't believe it," she cooed, holding, close to him. "I can't believe that I am really with you and we are going to spend the night together ... in a bed."
"I know it," he nodded, thinking all the while that it was complete insanity, but that kind of madness that his life had been lacking for much too long. He did not care anymore, and he had a great feeling of uplift even now as he remembered what he had just done: he had told off old Dr. Dale good, something he had wanted to do for years. It puzzled him a bit, however, the way old Dale had carried on about Jill. The old lecherous devil had probably made a pass at her-hell, maybe she had even let him diddle around with her. Whatever it was, it didn't matter right then.
"Where are we going?" she whispered.
"To bed, darling girl," he said jovially, leading her down the dark hallway.
"John, are you sure..."
"I never thought you'd be the one to be paranoid," he scoffed, dipping over to nip her on the ear. "Listen, girl, you came along and liberated me, and now you'll just have to put up with the aftermath you've caused."
"I love it," she said, stopped, and they kissed long and wetly.
The door to the bedroom was closed and he stopped them there a moment to kiss her again. Even after all the passionate lovemaking that day, and night, he found his cock still ready to zonk on up to the higher regions of full erectness. She pressed her tight little box against his pelvis, did a couple of playful hunches.
"My God," she uttered. "You're getting me all hot again. Let's get to that bed before I come right here..."
He opened the door, encircled her waist, and they walked into the darkened chamber as though floating on air. He heard her giggle against his neck as she arched up to nibble him there. He reached for the light switch.
"What the hell," he exclaimed incredulously at the scene he saw before his eyes now. "WHAT THE HELL!"
Upon hitting the light switch, a fantastic scene unfolded as the room was flooded with light. There on the king-size bed was his wife Jill-in all the glory of her bestial nakedness -spread-eagled and in the throes of consuming passion. And there upon her long slender body was the shape of a muscular young man. His head was fastened tightly upon her spread vagina and his head had just been bobbing up and down in a frenzy. The girl on the bed was in the process, even at that crucial moment, of having a bombastic orgasm.
"Oh, my God, my God...," Jill moaned, still torn by the uncontrollable passion that gripped her. "John ... what are ... you ... doing... oh, my God!"
And as he stood shocked, he saw that she was too far gone not to finish what he had started there upon her heaving pussy. The youth pulled slowly off her and looked around to see the husband standing there in the doorway.
"Jill, what are you doing!" he barked.
"I ... John ... I ... what are you doing here?"
"And who's that? Oh, I see! It's you, Evans!"
"Dr. Simmons," Phil Evans said in a subdued tone. "My God! Is that you, Kathy?"
The girl behind the professor rather cowered back, but now that she had been recognized she stepped out a little and smiled sheepishly. Jill sat up then, not bothering to cover up her large breasts. Both of them on the bed were quite naked and both were flushed with the color of heightened passion.
"Goddamn, what is this!" John stammered. "It's madness! I guess we'd better leave ... and let you finish ... what you were doing."
His voice suddenly became contrite; he just stood there and tried not to look at his naked wife there enmeshed on the bed with her lover. Perhaps none of them were thinking at all then, because of the shock, but already a new and collective feeling no doubt had gripped them all. A slowly building sensation of relief came on all their faces. There was just nothing to say. They just all looked from one to the other to garner some recognition.
"Well, let's go," John said sheepishly.
"No, wait!" Jill said, her tone clear. "Don't go now. There's no use ... everything is out in the open. John, who is that girl?"
"That's Kathy," Phil said, trying to hold back a smile. "She's my chick ... or she used to be. Hi, baby, how you been doing? I haven't seen you lately?"
"You've been too busy with other things," Kathy said, actually smiling and speaking in her usual knowing tone.
"It looks like you haven't missed me much, baby," he answered back, still holding on to Jill's naked hips.
"Oh, I've been doing all right," she laughed, looked up at John. "Haven't I, Dr. Simmons?" She reached up, put her arms around his neck, and pulled his head down. Right in front of the other two she made him kiss her long and probingly.
"Well," Jill exclaimed with perhaps a hint of mixed emotions as she watched her husband holding another girl tightly in his arms.
"Well, what are we all going to do?" Phil asked. "It is a bit awkward. Listen, I'll leave if you want me to, Jill."
"I wouldn't think of it," she answered quickly. Whereupon she pulled him over, mashed her pert mouth upon his, and ran her hands down upon his naked groin. She fondled his semi-hard prick and stretched the kiss out for the benefit of the onlookers.
"Look, this is ridiculous," John said. "There's no use in playing this game. As I see it, there are no explanations in order, anywhere. So, I'm going to cut out of here."
"Don't be in such a rush," Kathy said, running her hands all over her thighs and hunching a little against his leg. "They don't seem to mind, darling, so why should we? And after all, it is partly your place too, isn't it?"
"Yes, you're right," he nodded. "What the hell?"
"What are you going to do, John?" Jill asked.
"I'm tired. I've had a hard day. So I'm going to bed. And since this is my bed ..."
"Wait a minute," Phil said.
"No," Jill said. "He's right."
"Look, everybody, why the big hassle?" Kathy said. "We can see that you two have been making out, and I'm not afraid to admit that Dr. Simmons and I have been having a ball. So, if we know it, what's the big hassle?"
John by this time had his coat and tie off and was kicking off his trousers. Jill looked at him calmly and only Phil was still at a loss over it all. Quickly then Kathy began peeling out of her skirt and blouse. When she threw off her panties and bra and stood naked against the naked man she had been making love to, the pair on the bed just looked up.
"Well?" John asked.
"Well?" Jill replied.
At that, John vaulted himself onto the ruffled bed, followed by the vivacious little chick Kathy. Soon the four of them were all close together and touching against each other's nakedness. Kathy rolled over, her leg sprawling over Phil's naked thighs, and climbed upon John's chest. His hands cupped her breasts, but at the same time he was mashing against his own wife's massive boobs.
"What are you going to do?" Phil asked Kathy.
"I'm getting hot, man," she answered. "Wow, this is exciting! Lord, look at all of this good stuff..."
"Come on, Phil," Jill said. "Come on. It doesn't matter. Come on, lover, come and put that big dick of yours in my pussy again. Come on and fuck me right here! Show them how you fuck me!"
"Dr. Simmons," Kathy cooed. "I want that cock of yours so bad now. I want them to see just how great we can fuck!"
Soon two pairs of bodies were rolling and tossing and humping all over the bed; after awhile it was impossible to distinguish who was doing it to whom, but as they proceeded to lose all their inhibitions, it didn't seem to matter. John found his wife's face near his and he reached over and kissed her; she responded fully, running her tongue deep into his mouth. They broke apart to see that Phil and Kathy were rubbing and hunching with each other's legs and were locked in a long wet kiss.
"John, darling," Jill said. "Why didn't you tell me before? Why didn't we..."
"Ssh," he whispered, running his hands over her swollen tits and finding her hot pussy with his fingers. "It's all right now, darling. We've got a lot of making up to do. It's just going to be great now, baby."
"You little bitch," Phil said to Kathy, splaying her young-cunt open with his fingers. "You've been fucking his eyes out, haven't you?"
"Yes," she smiled. "And you've been balling her all this time, haven't you?"
They both laughed uproariously, clinched together, and rolled over and over. The other couple became tangled in the wild melee, could not keep from entwining and meshing together.
They all began to love the one nearest, kissing first one partner and then the other. Wild hands roamed and played and dug in hidden crevices. It was madness, but it was not a separate thing anymore. Because it was the sort of thing that most people only fantasize about, they plunged and managed to become conjoined in unison of equal passion brought on by the uninhibited coupling. They all drove in to a plateau of delirious ecstasy.
"Come on, fuck me," Jill said to John. "Come on, this is the way! You there and you there! Yes ... I want to suck you and I want you to fuck me ..."
And the other little chick spread her thighs wide and accepted her old lover's tool while she positioned herself to take the professor's prick into her hungry mouth. They were all working now for mutual but individual division of sexual exaltation.
"Oh, it's great, John," Jill uttered. "Oh, I love it!" She closed her mouth on Phil's cock then and worked on happily and wildly.
"Yes," he said. "And from now on, baby!" he heaved.
The room became a din for moiling, unchecked, original love. As their fever pitch mounted, the place took on the aura of crazed turbulence; they were all working into a tight chain of erotic fulfillment.
And long after, they lay together, all entwined, and slept in fulfilled grandeur of satisfied peace.
