A question often asked by those who deal with psychological problems is: What is normal? The answer to that seemingly simple question will probably never be answered. The people within a particular society usually are well-aware of what is considered accept me behavior for them. And therein lies the problem of the main character of this novel.
Candy Thompson is a young woman possessed of deep and abiding passions, passions which control her life and lead her to overstep the bounds of acceptable societal behavior time and time again. In her search for physical satisfaction, the fiery blonde is helplessly driven to take her pleasure where she an, risking everything for the promise of ratification.
NAUGHTY LADY MECHANIC -- a lesson to our society, and food for serious thought.
The Publisher
Chapter One
Candy Thompson was sitting up in bed, sipping a cup of coffee and reading the help wanted ads in the local newspaper.
Jack Turner was stretched out beside her, playing with her pussy. He was a sort of casual acquaintance, and he was fingering her cunt in a casual fashion as befitted their relationship. They were in Candy's one-room apartment. Jack had spent the night, after taking her out for a pizza, and she had given him a rattling good fuck. Now it was morning and he was interested in getting some more of that juicy cunt, but Candy didn't seem interested, although her sweet little twat was fluttering a bit as Jack slipped his middle finger up the slot.
Candy was eighteen years old.
She was a honey blonde with blue eyes and a sensual mouth. Her lower lip stuck out in a cute pout, whether she was pouting or not.
Jack thought her mouth was sexy. And he knew damned well that her body was sexy.
Her tits were large and firm. They thrust out from her slender torso proudly. Her nipples were large and stiff. Her waist was narrow, her hips nicely curved, her legs long and shapely. Her cunt was a prominent mound, thatched by a curly blonde thicket of pubic hair and bisected by a wet pink slit.
She had a lovely ass, too, although Jack couldn't see it at the moment since she was sitting on it, but he'd seen plenty of it the night before while lingering over a leisurely dog-style fuck. Her ass was shaped like a teardrop, firm and under-slung, the cheeks thrusting out and then cutting sharply into the backs of her lithe thighs.
Jack was nineteen.
He was a good-looking young man with a big dick. His cock was quite hard at the moment, a big rod capped by a knob like a purple mushroom.
Candy had just moved into his apartment. She had lived with her mother, a divorcee, until the week before. Then an unfortunate confrontation had taken place. The mother, a buxom woman, had come home unexpectedly and caught Candy fucking herself with the mother's dildo. There had been a terrible scene with awful recriminations. The mother had been as jealous of that rubber dick as she would have been of a man -- more jealous, as a matter of fact, because she had never known a man to be faithful, whereas, to her certain knowledge, the dildo had never once cheated on her.
She knew that for a fact, because she had purchased her dildo brand new, wrapped up in plastic and perfectly virginal. She had no use for any woman who would buy a used dildo.
Therefore, her rage was justified.
She had snatched the rubber dick out of Candy's pussy. Candy's cunt had clamped on it hard, loath to relinquish such a lovely cunt load, but the mother had dragged it away forcibly. The mother had been so angry at the unfaithful rubber dick that she had slipped the head into her mouth and given it a fierce bite, her teeth clamping into the bulbous knob so hard that it was deformed.
Candy had been frightened when she saw that. She was afraid that her mother might sink her teeth into her cunt, as well.
Her mother had, in fact, eyed her juicy cunt with something like that in mind, for the taste of Candy's cunt juice on the rubber cock was inspirational. But the woman was a proper mother and did not think it seemly to suck her own daughter's cunt, so she resisted the urge and, instead, called Candy all sorts of horrid names, ranging from slut and tramp on down to adulteress.
Candy had resented the last insult.
"Shit, Mom," she'd said. "It ain't adultery... I mean, you ain't married to a fucking rubber dick, are you?"
Candy's protest was logical, but did nothing to soothe the woman's feelings.
There was no way to deal with the situation but one: Candy had to move out of the house.
The mother had taken advice as to whether it was possible to legally wed a rubber dick, and after a while, found a minister of a cult religion from California who performed a ceremony in return for a blowjob. Now she and the dildo were married, she became a terrible nag and henpecked the poor rubber cock something terrible, knowing it was incapable of getting a divorce.
So it turned out all right for the mother, in the end.
But now Candy was on her own and she had to find a job, which is why she was reading the help wanted ads while Jack Turner fingered her slippery cunt.
He pushed his middle finger up her hole and twisted it around. Her pussy sucked at his digit but, although her hips shifted slightly, she continued to read the paper.
"Not interested?" he inquired.
"Ummm? Oh, sure. That feels real nice, Jack. But I got to read these ads. You just go ahead and play, if you want."
"Kinda one-sided."
He flicked his thumb across her clit. That vibrant little nugget stiffened.
"What kind of jab you looking for?" he asked.
"Don't know. Don't want to be a waitress, that's for sure. They need a change girl at the dirty movie arcade. I guess I could handle that."
"How about handling my dick, instead?"
Candy reached down and absent-mindedly wrapped her fist around the fat shaft of Jack's prick. His cock had been hard to begin with, and the minute her hand folded around it, it expanded. The big knob flared, out from the shaft.
He sighed with pleasure.
Candy, still looking at the newspaper, began to pump his dick slowly up and down.
Jack began using three fingers to probe up her slick cunt, steadily pushing them in to the knuckles and then turning and twisting them about inside the soft tunnel.
She began to get interested.
Candy was a sexy young, lady, and with Jack's hand caressing her cunt she found it hard to concentrate on the want ads, wanting his prick more than she wanted a job, which she didn't really want at all but had to have. But she had to have cock, too, once she got excited.
She tossed the paper aside.
She spread her lush thighs wide and, looking down along the nubile arch of her torso, watched his hand move in and out of her cunt. Her whole crotch had turned creamy by this time; ribbons of silvery cunt juice were trickling down into the crack of her ass and coating her thighs with a slippery film.
It excited her to watch her own body react to his hand as she began to squirm.
She continued to slowly stroke his prick, her fist skimming lightly up and down from hilt to crown.
As his fingers entered her cunt, her pussy made soft, moist squishing sounds and her clitoris stiffened and began to tingle. Jack used his thumb to caress that vibrant little lovebud as he finger fucked her gash.
She was panting.
His hand felt so nice that she was tempted to let him continue until she came, but it seemed rather a shame to come on a hand-job when there was a hard cock at hand. She'd had plenty of mutual masturbation experience in her earlier, virginal years but once she'd started fucking she'd stopped tugging by hand. Now she tugged at his cock suggestively.
Jack, never adverse to trading a fist for a pussy, rolled over and rose to his knees. He knelt between her thighs. His dick loomed out above her supple belly, the knob throbbing and the dark, thick vein that seemed the ventral shaft pulsing with blood. He dipped.
His cock bowed into her crotch.
Candy still retained her grip on the hilt, and she began rubbing his pecker-head around in her slot, dipping the knob in her creamy cunt and massaging her clit with the tip. His cock was pulsating with such regularity and urgency that it felt like an electric vibrator as he ran it over her fuck hole.
He made no attempt to fuck her yet, content to let her play his dickhead over the entrance while he began to massage her plump tits with both hands, squeezing the firm mounds and rolling her taut nipples in his fingers.
Lowering his face, he sucked on her nipples, his face crossing back and forth between those tingling nuggets.
Inspired, Candy arched her back, lifting her crotch and ass off the bed and into position, like a socket awaiting his fat plug. Her hips wriggled. Jack's hands slid down her flanks, caressed her hips and then slipped under her ass, cupping the firm, Valentine-shaped cheeks and holding her up.
Candy released his cock.
Jack pushed the full length up her cunt with one long, rippling stroke, his ass dipping as he corkscrewed in. He held the full penetration for a long moment, jammed in to the hilt in her wet sheath, his cock buried in warm pussy and his bloated balls pressed against her uplifted ass. Her cunt pulled and clutched at his hot meat as Candy thrilled to the sensation of being chock-a-block full of big prick and his cock began to expand and tremble as he savored the pleasure of being imbedded to the root in creamy cunt.
She began to rotate her hips.
Her hole twisted from side to side on his buried cock, adding torque to the contact, while her cunt muscles began to work in sequence so that her hole was rippling up his dick from base to knob in a series of clutching contractions.
Then Jack began to fuck her.
He started moving slowly, using long strokes -- pulling back until only the head of his pecker remained in her cunt, then pushing the whole big cock into her. His ass screwed and humped.
Candy met him with eager compliance, moving her loins in counterpoint to his, so that she was pushing her crotch down over him as he plowed up, and then twisting away as he withdrew.
Her pussy was a pliable joy. Despite the numerous cocks that had explored those depths, it was tight as it molded itself around the contours of his prick, gripping and clutching at every inch of stalk and knob. He slid easily through the fluid, slippery passage with her pussy milking his dick firmly, enhancing the friction by the clutching contractions.
They had been both inspired by the manual love-play. Now that they were fucking, they both rose towards the heights of sexual sensation without delay.
Jack began to fuck faster, fairly pouring the pork to her. His balls swung in like the clapper of a fleshy bell, ringing the pealing notes of arousal. His cock felt like a heated crowbar as it forged up her cunt!
Candy's pneumatic loins responded with equal vigor as he fed the dick to her like a stoker shoveling phallic fuel to a carnal furnace.
Her pussy started to cream.
"Oh!" she cried, as if amazed at the thrill, then, "Ooooh!" drawing the wail of joy out in a long, quavering note.
Her thighs clamped around his flanks, squeezing as if she sought to force the spunk from him by the pressure.
Her cunt sucked on his dick as they fucked. Jack groaned as he felt the pressure build up in his balls. He whacked his cock in savagely, gritting his teeth. His whole body began to tingle and his toes curled as the rising ecstasy filled him with joy.
His hands were still cupping her ass, and now he lifted her higher, angling her crotch to his stroke and sending his dick speeding across her vibrant clit. Her thighs were soft hooks, her belly a velvet cup, her cunt working with suction.
His balls exploded.
He felt the thick sap rush up his rod, and she felt that rod expand potently in her cunt.
"Cum!" she cried, already coming, herself, and wanting his hot cream to pour into her as she shuddered to the thrill. Even as she spoke the word, as if obedient to her command, the head of his dick blossomed with a spurt of thick fuck juice as he ran it all the way up her hole.
Candy felt the burning jism pour into her womb and her own orgasm increased. Long thrills crashed around in her belly and ran up her thighs. Her cunt sucked at him and he shot a second heavy wad up her hole, filling her cunt with so much spunk that it came bubbling out as his plunger pushed in.
He blew a third cascade of cum into her hole, then stiffened and held his body rigid while the girl writhed away under him, working off the final spasm of her own orgasm.
After a while she stopped moving.
She smiled dreamily and contentedly.
Jack drew his softening dick out of her pussy hole. A veritable flood of cum and cunt juice flowed out in the wake of his retreating cock, soaking the bed. Jack stretched out beside her, breathing hard and grinning happily.
"That was nice," she said.
"Yeah," he said.
Candy eyed his dick, checking for signs of latent prowess. It was no longer erect, but it wasn't quite soft, either. It flopped out from his belly, semi-hard.
"You in a hurry?" she asked.
"Naw."
"Good, we can do it again in a little while," said the randy young lady.
Jack thought that was a remarkably fine idea.
Candy sighed. She picked up the newspaper again. She was thinking that it would no doubt cut into her fucking time.
Chapter Two
"Fucked if I'll be a waitress," Candy said. "Imagine slinging hash, or eggs. Think of serving fried eggs to some horny old guy! Or hotdogs, that's worse: phallic symbols. The only meat I want to serve is hot pussy."
"You sure serve that like a pro," Jack said.
She looked at him suspiciously, not at all sure if that was a compliment. She thought of herself more as a talented amateur than a professional in the serving of cunt.
"Hey, here's a good job," she said.
Jack leaned over her tit to read the ad. "A mechanic?" he said, dubiously.
"Yeah, that pays well."
"You know anything about motors and things?"
"Then how can you be a mechanic?"
"Why, because I'm a girl."
"That's what I mean. A girl can't be a mechanic."
"That shows how much you know. They can't refuse to hire me because I'm a girl. That's discrimination."
"Yeah, but they can sure as shit refuse to hire you if you don't know anything about mechanics."
"Naw, they can refuse to hire a guy if he doesn't know how to do the job. But if they refuse to hire a girl, she can take them to court. She can get them in lots of trouble if they aren't equal opportunity employers."
Jack considered that.
It didn't seem quite right, somehow, but still he figured she probably had a point.
She said, "That's a better job than being a change girl at dirty movies. I think I'll apply for it."
"I'll bet you'll look sexy in overalls, with grease on your hands?" Jack said.
She giggled, and said, "Greasy hands are great for jerking guys off, I'll bet."
"Pistons," he said. "Big, hard, hot pistons."
"Ooooh. Screwdrivers!"
"Crankshafts!"
"Transmissions!"
"Transmissions? What's erotic about transmissions?"
"I guess I got carried away," she said, looking sheepish.
"Unless you want me to transmit my dick into your twat."
And once again, Candy's joy hunting got sidetracked.
Jack's big prick had been hovering somewhere in the region of semi-hard, going up and down like a self-sealing tire with a slow leak. But the moment that Candy reached out for it, that formidable fuck stick snapped into a rampant state, like a soldier coming to attention.
Candy giggled at his reaction.
She flicked her index finger against the underside of the flaring knob, and the whole long rod began to vibrate like a taut bowstring. Then she folded her fist around the shaft, as if seeking to pacify the humming tool, absorbing that vibrant energy in the soft palm of her hand. Her hand was small and delicate and his pecker was large and battle scarred. A good four inches of stalk and head sprouted from her clenched fist like a rubber truncheon from a brutal inquisitor's hand. But there was nothing brutal about Candy's attitude or demeanor -- her grip was gentle and her pretty face was transformed by sexual expectation.
Jack began to play with her fat tits while she stroked his prick up and down.
"Want me to go down on you?" she asked, batting her eyelashes and looking demure.
"Oh, yeah!" he said.
They had been too occupied by fucking to dabble in the oral embellishments, so Jack had not known whether Candy gave head or not. He hadn't suggested it because be didn't want to risk alienating her -- in case she found the idea disgusting and might, as a consequence, deny him any further pussy.
He had once, in his youth, been the seventh man in a gang-bang. By the time he got to the girl, her cunt was exceedingly soggy and he had tried to insert his dick into her mouth. She had been enraged.
"What kind of a girl do you think I am?" she had screamed, and she had denied Jack an orgasm as a result.
Therefore, he had learned to tread lightly in the suggestion of cock sucking. But if a girl happened to suggest it, Jack was never unwilling to fuck a face, especially such an adorable face as Candy's.
He rolled onto his back and thrust his loins up.
Candy squirmed down the bed, bringing her face level with his towering dick.
Candy loved to suck cock but she often found herself so busy fucking that she didn't get a chance to have a taste of the gentleman's prick before it was all used up. She had tried to work it in reverse once, blowing a fellow before fucking him, but that had been a disaster. He had been a one shot guy and as soon as lie had whitewashed her tonsils with his abundant, but solitary, load of jism, he had got dressed and departed, leaving the poor girl with a belly full of cum but nothing whatsoever for her frustrated pussy. But with a potent man like Jack, no such problems arose, and she simply adored the way his dick rose from his loins.
She lifted up and positioned her face just above the head of his cock, but she didn't go down on him immediately.
She licked her lips and purred happily, teasing him for a moment -- and teasing herself, as well, for now that she was in position, her mouth was fairly drooling for dick. She was literally hungry for cock meat and she found it a most pleasant form of starvation, with the remedy at hand -- a malnutrition that could be rectified without hardship.
"Ummm... that looks good," she whispered.
Jack moaned and pushed his hips higher.
"Oh, I'd love to... but it's terribly naughty, Jack. I'd better riot. You might not respect me afterwards."
Jack knew she was merely taunting him, but his cock was not so enlightened. It lunged and bucked like a crooked flywheel that threatened to shake his carnal engine apart.
"Maybe just a little lick..." she said.
Her tongue fluttered in the air, a scant inch above the head of his flaring cock.
"Just a taste..." she sighed.
She ran her tongue across the head of his cock tentatively -- just a single slurp -- then drew back again.
But Candy was in no state to tease him further, now that the delicious flavor of his cock head was tingling on her taste buds. She gazed I down at the big, swollen slab of purple flesh with a hungry expression, her eyes crossing as they turned inward, giving her a cockeyed expression.
Lowering her face again, she began to lave the head of his dick with long, moist strokes of her hot tongue. His knob spread out like a hooded cobra prepared to strike -- fangless but formidable, filled with thick, non-lethal venom.
"Ummm... yummy..."
Jack was panting like a steam engine as her nimble tongue ran all over his cockhead. He pushed upwards, attempting to get it into her mouth, but she was enjoying licking it so much that she wasn't ready to suck yet.
She tilted her head to the side as he thrust up, so that his rising rod slid along her cheek instead of going into her mouth. Fitting her pursed lips to the underside of the stalk, she began to slide her head up and down, as if she were playing a flute. Her lips slurped up and down from root to crown.
His cock began to vibrate wildly.
Going down, she paused to lick his hairy balls for a moment, savoring the variety in taste and texture. Then she slurped back up and fitted her lips to the tip of his cockhead. She kissed that bloated slab lovingly, her lips slowly parting and her head going down millimeter by millimeter.
She fed his cockhead into her mouth.
Just the head of his cock was in her maw and the thick rod stood out between his belly and her face like a fleshy rivet bolting them together.
She sucked softly, her cheeks hollowing in. Her tongue began to glide along the sensitive underside of his cockhead, adding a new dimension to the thrill sucking him and tonguing him at the same time.
She was drooling down his stalk, her lips wrapped around the shaft just below the knob.
Jack whimpered and reached down, placing his hand on the back of her head, fingers splayed out. He pushed gently. Taking the hint, Candy began to bob her head up and down, feeding his dick back into her throat.
Her tongue continued to lick his knob, and her lips went down as far as they could, so that her nose nestled in his pubic hair and her chin brushed against his swollen balls.
She rose until only his knob was still in her mouth, paused for a suck cm that succulent slab, then pushed back down until his cock had vanished into her head.
Jack stared down, fascinated, watching her golden head go up and down his cock as if she were ducking for apples in a barrel. And his cockhead felt as big as an apple, too -- a big, hot apple that filled her mouth to the brim, lodging in her throat and pressing her cheeks out.
Candy gurgled with happiness.
There was no condition in life, except having her cunt stuffed full of cock, that she found as agreeable as having a mouthful of rampaging cock meat.
She gazed up at his face, eyelashes fluttering. Seeing his countenance transported by the bliss that her mouth was bringing to him, the sexy girl was more inspired than ever. Giving carnal pleasure was as good as getting it, she figured as long as she got plenty of it in return.
She had intended to suck him for a while and then let him fuck her, but now, seeing how greatly he was enjoying the cock sucking, the oversexed blonde changed her mind.
She decided to let him come in her mouth.
She pulled her clutching lips up his shaft and away from his knob. She flutter-kissed the tip and, speaking at the same time as if his cock were a microphone -- she said, "Do you want to shoot in my mouth, honey?"
Her words were as inspirational as her lips. Jack felt the welcome syllables vibrate right down his dick and amplify in his tender balls. He tried to say yes, but his vocal cords were as stiff as his cock. Only a rasping, wordless sound came out.
He nodded furiously.
Candy smiled, her lips turning up without departing from his cockhead.
"Ummm?" she purred. "Shall I milk your cock, Jack? Shall I drink your jism?"
He was still nodding; he kept right on nodding.
"Shall I swallow all that thick, hot cream?"
"Yes!" he managed to gasp, sounding strangled.
Candy whimpered. Her lips fitted over the tip of his dick and pushed down. She began feeding his cock into her mouth and throat once again, working with the steady rhythm that, she knew, would bring him quickly to a climax.
But not too quickly, she hoped, for as much as she wanted to drink his cum, she was in no hurry for that tasty treat. The pleasure of sucking cock was a delight in itself and she wanted to enjoy a nice long suck before she got to the creamy culmination.
She went down to the root, his knob running right into her gullet. Drawing back up, her tongue lashed back and forth as she sucked. His cock was gliding over her curled tongue as if it were a carpet laid out for the passage of a dignitary, sliding through her compressed lips like a peg into a perfectly fitted slot, plowing into her throat so deeply that he thought she might choke on the blockage.
She was whimpering, as if his cock were running over her vocal cord like a bow over a violin string.
She gasped as she took it all and then purred as her mouth rose up to the cockhead again, little whimpering sounds punctuating the steady slurping of her mouth.
Jack drew his hand away from her head and clasped both hands behind his own head, relaxing now that she was into the steady rhythm. He stretched out comfortably and let her do the work as he held his back arched and his cock steady while her face rose and fell over his towering hunk of prick meat.
Suddenly a little spurt of preliminary cum shot from his knob onto her tongue.
"Oh!" she cried as she felt that hot stream run over her sensitive taste buds. Her steady tempo faltered for a moment as she let the little creamy appetizer slip around on her tongue, then hungrily gulped it down.
The hint of the delicious load to come thrilled the wanton nymph. She'd had enough of the meat course now and was hungry for the creamy dessert.
Her head began to fly up and down quickly while her cheeks pulled and her lips slurped and her tongue flashed to and fro like a crazed serpent.
"Come," she gurgled, the word muffled by his pecker head. "Come for me, Jack come in my mouth."
She sucked rapaciously. Her horny blonde head rose and fell, in a blur as she jammed his whole big cockhead back into her greedy throat, desperate to milk the precious nectar from his seething cock and bloated nuts.
Jack gave a strangled cry. His body stiffened as if his back had broken, and he plunged his dick upwards as his orgasm began.
His cockhead erupted mightily.
Candy gasped as she felt her mouth fill with spunk. She gulped the creamy delight down furiously, making room for more as his second jet hosed her tonsils. He was coming fast and hard, and her mouth was so full of jism that it overflowed from her unpeeled lips and ran back down his shaft. Then her head bobbed down again, gathering the errant cum up, once more.
He poured yet a third creamy stream into her mouth. Then he collapsed, groaning.
Candy was swallowing quickly and her head continued to dip and rise as she milked every last succulent drop from his cockhead with such vigor that she seemed to be inhaling the wonderful stuff. She couldn't swallow it fast enough. Her mouth was still full, the thick cum running into her cheeks and hanging from her tonsils like ivory stalactites.
Jack stopped shooting, but she continued to suck, draining him to the dregs.
His cock began to soften in her mouth.
She sighed, wishing there was more of that oily delight. She drew her lips away from his cockhead and, ducking down, used her nimble tongue to gather up a few stray drops that had escaped and run down to his collapsed balls.
"Ummm," she sighed, "what a treat!"
"Best blow job I ever had," he said.
Candy regretfully moved away from his cock, which was in a state of collapse now and flopped flaccidly against his belly. She spotted an errant nugget of cum at the very root and lapped it up. Then she slid up and snuggled against him lovingly and affectionately, very pleased with the delicious feast he had fed to her.
"Want me to do you no?" he asked, figuring that she was entitled to some head, in turn.
But she said, "No hurry... just rest awhile. Let me have a moment to enjoy my meal."
She seemed to have forgotten all about applying for a jab as a mechanic. The mechanics of sex had sidetracked the girl and if she thought of engines now, they were carnal engines with meaty pistons and creamy hydraulics. And she wasn't sorry that she had to get a job, nor was she sorry that she had been banished from her mother's house, for she was beginning to see the benefits that automatically came with having her own apartment.
No more fucking in automobiles, no more fears of parental interruptions when she entertained at home, the chance to spend a lovely morning in bed with a man -- such things were well worth having to work for.
Who needed to borrow an old dildo, anyhow?
Her mother could have the dildo all to herself. Candy intended to get all the real dick she could.
Chapter Three
Candy's mother, in fact, had managed to get herself some real dick the night before. Just as Candy's sexual activities had been curtailed by living at home, so had her other's, for Erma Thompson was a woman great sexual appetite but she had not wanted bring men home while her daughter was ere. Thus, just like Candy, she had been forced to enjoy uncomfortable fucks in cars or fucks in shabby motel rooms, from which she had to depart in the middle of the night and forgo the pleasure of a leisurely morning fuck.
Now that she had the house to herself, she intended to make up for lost time.
At thirty-six, Erma was still a very attractive and desirable woman. She looked a great deal like her daughter; in fact, with the same honey blonde hair, her body a bit fuller but shaped the same exciting proportions.
She had gone out to a singles bar the nig before and had been thrilled to find that she could have her choice of men.
She had chosen Boris Gribble, a hansom fellow with a promising bulge in his crotch and she had not been disappointed -- that bulge had proved to be a remarkably fine cock which she had fucked and sucked with great, enjoyment until the wee hours.
Now Gribble was sleeping beside her and Erma, who had just woke up, and was wondering if she should start sucking his dick while he slept or wake him up first.
It was the sort of problem that she didn't all mind haying, and she licked her lips anticipation.
She also had another decision to make.
Gribble was living in a hotel, and during the interludes between fucking, they had discussed the idea that he might move in with Erma. He seemed keen on the idea; Erma was in two minds about it. She liked him and knew they would have a good sex life together but, with her new freedom, she wasn't sure if she wanted to limit herself to one man.
It was a hard decision to make. She knew it would be fun to pick up a different guy every light, but on the other hand, the benefits of steady romance and sex with one handsome, large-cocked gentleman were obvious.
She knew that if she rejected him, she would egret it every night that she failed to score with someone else and had come home alone to her dildo.
Then, too, there was the alternative of living with Gribble and cheating on him, thereby having the best of both worlds.
As she gazed down at his thick cock, she decided that was just what she would do.
Then she made her other decision. She would awaken him with a bit of cock sucking.
Gribble's cock was not hard at the moment, but even stretched out in a soft state down his thick thigh it was an impressive hunk of cock meat, no doubt of that. The shaft was broad and tapering and the knob was shaped like a hovel. His balls were big and hard, even though Erma had emptied them numerous times during the course of the night. Erma has a high regard for big balls, knowing the creamy joy that, such sacs contained.
Now she leaned over him and began to lick the head of his cock very gently.
He stirred in his sleep.
Her tongue curled and coiled around his knob and his cock began to stiffen. She merrily licked up and down the stalk, tongued hi balls for a bit, then slipped his cockhead into her eager lips and sucked softly on it.
Erma loved to feel a soft cock grow and harden inside her loving mouth.
His cock straightened in a series of jolts coming up from its dormant and slack state along his thigh and bringing her head right up with it, like a lever shifting a boulder. When his fine pecker was standing rampant, Erma began to bob her head up and down on it. It was too big to get the whole thing into her mouth, but she took all that she could with relish.
Her pussy began to cream.
On this morning of serious decisions, Erma was presented with yet another one -- to milk his dick in her mouth or use it to satisfy the craving in her crotch.
She recalled that his final orgasm of the night had been in her head and figured, therefore, that it was her pussy's turn for a steaming load.
She gave his formidable cock a final lingering slurp, then drew her lips away. The big mob popped from her mouth like a cork from a bottle, and she saw that he was so hot that his dick meat was steaming.
She knelt and threw one knee across his lips, straddling his loins. Holding his cock by he hilt, she fitted the tip into her swollen cunt and began to squirm down onto it until it was buried to the very root. For her cunt had no such limitations as her mouth and she had never yet encountered the dick that she could tot manage to encompass to the fullest.
She began to ride up and down on his shaft. Her pussy clutched and gripped him. Like her daughter, Erma was blessed by a cunt that could probably mold itself around any size or shape of prick. She rose up anti down his cock with slow strokes, her lush thighs tensing and relaxing as they lifted and lowered her pussy over his prick.
Angling her pelvis so that his fat shaft ran over her clitoris as she rode it, she began to work towards an orgasm. Her face was contorted by passion and her lips were working just as if they were clamped around a cock.
As nice as it was to be fucking, she wished that she also had a dick upon which to suck. She thought that maybe she should have picked up two men the night before, so she could have taken cock at both ends -- or even, three, for Erma's asshole was no stranger to the penetration of pecker.
It was too late to think about, that now, and besides, Gribble might have been jealous. That was something about which she would have to sound him out in a delicate way whether he minded sharing her with another man once in a while.
She began to fantasize.
Holding her fingers bunched together so that they formed a tube roughly the same circumference as a cock, Erma began to fuck them into her mouth, sucking greedily on them. But fingers didn't taste as good as cock and it was a feeble substitute. She reached down and dipped her hand into her crotch, alongside dribble's cock. Then she brought them back to her face. With cunt juice on her hand it was a bit better, and the oversexed divorcee sucked on her digits and thrilled to the savory taste of her own pussy. As soon as she had sucked her hand clean, she dipped it once more into her crotch, repeating the process.
Then her eyes alighted on her dildo, which was in its usual handy position on the nightstand beside the bed. Her eyes gleamed with depraved joy.
Stretching out, her big tits bobbling like ripe fruit, she grasped the big rubber dick by the root. She lifted her cunt off of Gribble's pecker and, kneeling over him with his temporarily neglected cock thundering away with great vitality, she slipped the dildo up her pussy and turned it about like a spoon in a bowl of cream. When she was certain that the whole fat tool was coated with tasty cunt juice; she pulled it out and slipped her soaking snatch back over Gribble's dick, working down all, the way on the throbbing spike.
Erma began to fuck her mouth with the cunt juice coated dildo, sucking merrily away and pretending it was a real cock, while she licked away on Gribble's real cock.
Her ass heaved and her lush hips rotated as she humped the sleeping man while she mouthed the rubber dong, slurping her own slippery pussy-nectar from the rod.
Reaching behind her mobile ass, she got a handful of his big balls, squeezing as if she intended to force the spunk from them by the pressure.
Erma, oversexed divorcee that she was, was almost ready to have an orgasm.
Gribble opened his eyes.
He stared up with a look of sleep-clouded incredulity at the woman who was riding him. He saw that she was feeling a disembodied dick into her eager face.
A look of horror surpassed that of incredulity as, for a terrible moment, he thought that she had severed his pecker while he slept and was on the point of devouring it. He stiffened in terror. He had been picked up by a cock-eating monster, a cock-cannibal, a phalli anthropophagus! Fleeting thoughts tumble through his mind. Could a prick be sewn on again, providing he could snatch it back from her in one piece? Had she bitten the head of yet?
But then the sensation in his own cock struck him and he realized with relief that he was still possessed of his manhood. He saw that the dick being gobbled was fashioned of rubber, and he sighed.
What a depraved woman!
But Gribble, not depraved himself, did not mind at all. He began to shift his hips, fucking vertically into her clutching cunt with lusty strokes.
Seeing that her lover had awakened, Erma plucked the rubber cock from her mouth, said, "Good morning," and then popped the false dick back in, sucking with gusto.
The sight of a woman sucking on a dick, even a rubber dick, was exciting to Gribble, and his cock swelled up inside her churning twat; his balls ballooned in her hand.
He groaned and shot his wad.
His geyser erupted with such force that her pelvis wobbled on the geyser, as if she had been astride Old Faithful, itself. His hot stream poured up into her womb and, feeling her cunt fill with spunk, the horny woman wailed and shuddered as her own orgasm flooded forth to mingle with his.
Cum and cunt juice poured from her hole, soaking his belly and balls as she ground away, working her climactic bliss off even as she milked his hot-cock to the dregs.
Gribble figured it was a nice way to be awakened. He hoped it was a pleasure that he could enjoy every morning.
Later, lying by her side, he played with her big tits and asked if she had made up her mind about whether he should move in with her.
"Okay," she said.
He was pleased. Thinking that it would please her, he said, "If it works out, we can get married."
Erma was thrilled by such a romantic sentiment. But then she had a terrible thought!
"I'm already married," she confessed.
"What? I thought you were divorced?"
"I am... but I got married again."
"Well, where's your husband, then?"
She blushed and looked sheepish. "I married my dildo," she said.
"That's not possible," he said, figuring that she was being devious.
But she said, "It is if you know a minister in one of those California cult, religions. I never would have done it if I'd known I was going to meet you, Boris. But I was lonely. So I gave this cult fella some head and he wed me to the rubber dick."
"Can't be legal."
"Maybe not..." she said.
But then Boris began to worry. He didn't how much about the law and less about cult religions.
"Maybe you better take legal advice," he suggested.
"Yeah. I can phone the guy that married me, first, and find out if it was legal. If it was, maybe I can get a divorce."
"Naw, you can't get a divorce from a dildo. I mean, there wouldn't be a correspondent. The dildo could divorce you because you fucked me, of course... but what sort of shyster lawyer would take on a rubber dong for a client?"
"Wait a minute!" Erma said, snapping her fingers. "I can divorce the rubber bastard. No trouble. It fucked my daughter."
Gribble's eyes rolled; he wondered what the fuck he had gotten into with this weird woman.
He said, "The thing is, whether you're married in the eyes of the law or in the eyes of the Lord. I mean, a cult religion must have a false deity... but still, even a false deity must have some dominion, you think?"
"I'd better check on it before we make any plans," she said.
She bitterly regretted her hasty marriage. I especially since Gribble's cock was a good two inches longer than her rubber one. She said, "In the mean while, we can live in sin."
Gribble found that the bizarre idea that his woman had wed a rubber dick had, excited him. His big cock was hard, once more, and demanding some attention.
"Let's sin some more, then," he suggested. "What a good idea," she agreed. She reached out for his pecker. "Errr... why don't you put your husband away before we start..." he said, not liking the idea of cuckolding a husband with such brazen impunity.
Erma was pleased that her new lover was a man of such delicate sensibilities. She put the dildo in the dresser drawer, on the principle of what it didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Then they proceeded to cuckold the hell out of the rubber dick.
Later, she telephoned the Temple of the Holy Wheel to ascertain the validity of her marriage.
Chapter Four
Moon McCoy was the founder of the Temple of the Holy Wheel and the man who, by the power he had invested in himself, had married Erma and the dick. He was a lean fellow with a shaven head and eyes which he made hollow by a skillful application of cosmetics.
He was instructing a new disciple in the tenets of the religion when Erma phoned.
The theology of the religion was a simple one -- the devoted congregation all got naked and rode around on skateboards, and then they fucked.
Moon's cock was the only relic of the cult and was known as the Holy Pole, venerated by all.
The new disciple was a fourteen-year-old girl with plump titties, a juicy cunt and a fanatic devotion to holy poles of any ilk. She was paying homage to Moon's cock at the moment, slurping worshipfully away on the scared stick. They were both on skateboards, skillfully swooping around together, linked by his dick. When the phone rang, he glided in that direction. The girl, refusing to disgorge his tasty pecker, was pulled after him.
"Holy Wheel," he said.
The girl inhaled his cock.
Erma explained who, she was.
"Yeah, I remember you. You give good head but you were kinky for a dildo, right?"
"I was. But now I'm into real dick and I want to get a divorce."
"Cost you two blow-jobs."
"Errr... just a moment," she said.
Off the phone, she said, "I'll have to suck him off twice, Boris. Is that all right?"
Boris looked glum.
Moon said, "Of course, you could get a quickie divorce in Mexico, but then you got to fuck a donkey."
"I'd better check with my lawyer," she said.
"Oh, shit... don't do that," Moon said. "Tell you what... one blow-job and I'll annul the marriage, okay? Anyhow, it wasn't consecrated unless it's one of those fancy dildos that can shoot yogurt into you."
"I'll get back to you," said Erma. She hung up. Moon shrugged and replaced the phone.
"Some people are nuts," he said. "Speaking about nuts, when are you gonna unload those big nuts of yours into my mouth?" the disciple wanted to know. She was eager to become a full-fledged Wheelist, that was evident. And Moon was just as eager to make converts.
They began to swoop around the room, cutting deft patterns and intricate gliding maneuvers, her eager mouth pulling on his cock as he towed her about, and soon enough he poured the oil onto her in an abundance that thrilled her to the core and filled her belly with spunk.
Moon was pleased with her progress. She didn't know much theology but she sure could milk a dick.
Humble the shyster lawyer was instructing his new legal secretary in her duties. She was eighteen years old and had no legal training, but she had big tits.
Those tits were bared at the moment, and Humble was sucking on her nipples with all the thoroughness of a forensic debate.
"Gee, Mister Humble," she cooed, "do all legal secretaries let the boss do that?"
"Certainly," he said, sucking on a stiff nipple.
"I don't see what sucking tit has to do with the law."
He was a pretty clever lawyer, apt at twisting testimony and shading the facts.
"It's not a tit," he said. "It's a tort."
"Huh?" she said.
"If a lawyer sucks a tit, it's a tort... a very important point of law."
"Yeah, I've heard about them torts, but I never knew they were just tits."
"Few people untrained in legal technicalities do."
He took her hand and pressed it to his crotch.
She was getting the idea.
"I suppose that's a hung jury," she said.
He was impressed at how quickly she was learning. He pushed her down on the desk and slipped his twelve honest and true inches into her jury box.
The phone rang.
Humping merrily away, he answered. He listened for a moment.
"I'll be fucked if I'll put a dildo on the witness stand," he said. "But you got nothing to worry about, Mrs. Thompson. Marriages to inanimate objects are not legal in this state, though I believe they are in Los Angeles. I'll end you my bill."
He hung up the phone and then he proceeded to fuck his cock into his secretary with such vigor that the case was soon favorably decided.
Later, she stuck him with a paternity suit.
"Everything's okay," Erma told Boris Gribble. "Humble the lawyer says the marriage wasn't legal."
"You don't have to blow Moon, then?"
"Nope. But I'll blow you whenever you like."
"You're really a cock-hungry sort, you?" he said, not at all displeased.
"Oh, I do adore to suck dick, no doubt that," she agreed.
She demonstrated the fact by giving his cockhead a quick polish. She figured this was a good time to broach the subject of whether he objected to threesomes.
Approaching the subject warily, she said, "It's too bad that you don't have two cocks, darling."
"Two cocks?" he said, looking scandalized. "If I had two cocks, I'd be a freak."
"I didn't mean that, exactly."
He was squinting suspiciously at her. She figured she had better assure him of her devotion and, ducking down, gave his pecker head a loving slurp.
Nibbling on his dick, she said, "I just meant that it would be wonderful to have a cock in my mouth and a cock in my cunt at the same time."
"You'd need two guys to work that," he said.
"Now that you mention it..."
"What are you hinting at, Erma?"
"Oh, I just... I mean, the ideal thing would be for you to be possessed of two cocks of your very own, since you're the man I love. But since you have only one cock -- although a masterpiece in its own solitary right -- then maybe it might be fun if we acquired a second cock to join us sometimes."
"My God... you're depraved! Our first day together and already you're planning to cuckold me!"
"Never! It isn't cuckolding if you're there, darling. It's just an orgy. That's not the same thing."
"I'm not so sure..."
"Anyhow, it isn't cuckolding unless the other guy fucks me, right? If I just sucked on his dick while you fucked me it wouldn't be infidelity."
"You may have a point."
She was licking the point of his cock.
Gribble found himself growing rather exited by her suggestion that they bring a back up cock into their relationship. Remembering how stimulating it had been to watch her suck the rubber dong, he could well predict the thrill it would give him to watch her suck another man's cock, especially when his own was stuck tsp her juicy cunt at the same time.
He said, "What about another girl?"
"Ooooh, I wouldn't mind," she said. He had been thinking more along the line of fucking both of them, but Erma, self-centered in such things, said, "I'll bet you'd get really horny watching me suck a cunt, huh?"
The truth of that was manifested by the way his cock flared at the very idea.
He wanted some hot pussy at the moment.
"We'll talk about it later," he said, which, she figured -- to her delight -- was implied compliance.
And seeing how inspired his dick was by the conversation, she said, "I never sucked a cunt, but I've always wanted to. I even thought about -- this is very naughty -- I even thought about eating my daughter's juicy snatch, that time I caught her fucking herself with my dildo."
His cock actually twanged with the tremor that those words sent up his stalk.
"And if we bring a girl home, you can fuck her after I suck her cunt... and I'll tongue your balls while you put it to her and lick your asshole and... and... unghhh!" she finished, as his huge cock slipped into her mouth.
"Let's fuck," he said.
He tried to pluck his pecker out of her mouth, but she was stuck to it like a limpet to a pillar of rock. Her mouth was working like a vacuum cleaner. He had to get a handful of her honey-hued hair and grab his dick in the other hand and separate cock from mouth by physical effort.
Erma deduced that Gribble wanted pussy instead of head at the moment. It was no hardship for the randy divorcee, for her cunt had started to smolder during her own exciting recital of all the things she wanted to do when a third party joined them in their love nest. Soon enough, there would be a brace of cocks it her disposal, but having only the one at the moment, she didn't care which end it was inserted into.
Now he was holding his dick in one fist and her head in the other, having pulled his sword out of her head like King Arthur retracting Excalibur from the stone. They were in close, proximity to the bed, but Erma decided that it was time she took some cock standing up. She had always enjoyed variety of position, as well as of bodily cavity. She straightened up from her bent-over position and pressed her torso to his.
Her big tits flattened out, the nipples branding him at twin points, and her smooth belly rippled against his.
His standing cock, trapped between them, carved a deep indentation up to her belly. She purred, rolling her hips so that her torso, turned from side to side on his prick. His cock was so long that it was pressing into her from her cunt to her breastbone, the big, purple knob, nudging into the bottom of her tit cleavage.
She realized, from this, how deep he had been up her cunt when he was inside her, and it thrilled the randy divorcee to see that penetration laid bare -- as it were -- and diagramed for her titillation. She stopped rolling her hips from side to side and began to glide up and down, her lush thighs tensing and relaxing as she humped up his torso.
She tilted her shoulders back so that, looking down, she could see his massive cock looming up between them, just like an architect's blueprint demonstrating how it would fit into the structure of her loins once they were fucking and that big cock was an integral part of her body.
Dipping down, she let the big knob slip into her deep cleavage. Rising, she went onto her toes and felt the head nuzzle into her belly button.
If his prick were any longer, she thought, it would split her through and through. Entering her cunt, the knob would come pushing into her mouth from her gullet.
It was a fanciful concept, but exciting to such a horny woman.
She went onto her tiptoes.
Gribble bent at the knees.
His pecker slid down her belly, rustled through her cuntal thicket and nestled into her crotch.
She was not quite high enough, for he was considerably taller than she, and his cock was aimed at her crotch at a horizontal angle, the shaft laid along her slit and the knob protruding from behind her ass.
She felt as if she were astride a log.
It was pleasant to have his fat shaft braced along her wet cuntal slot and she squirmed on it, thighs clamping.
But she required more elevation, so that his pecker could hoist itself into the proper angle of penetration. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. His big hands slid down her flanks and cupped the firm cheeks of he ass. He lifted her by the ass, and she hauled herself up by his shoulders.
As her crotch rose, giving his cock that mighty rod levered upright so that the knob was pushing into her steaming twat at a vertical angle.
Her meaty thighs hooked around his hip bones, and she clung to him as if he were a tree, up which she were climbing or as if his cock were a flagpole, atop which she sat.
Gribble slowly let her settle onto his cock.
She relaxed her thighs, but still held his shoulders as her slippery cunt slid over his pecker until that formidable pole was buried up her loins.
"Oh, my!" she gasped as she felt that huge smoldering cockhead work its way up her cunthole.
It seemed to have penetrated even deeper than it had when they'd fucked on the bed, and the knob felt like a ball of molten iron atop a thick, throbbing bar.
She squirmed, her juicy ass wriggling.
Gribble lifted her up again. Her pussy slurped up his stalk until only the head remained inside her and the huge rod was steaming in the air. Then, he let her down once more.
He was hauling her up and clown his cock like a washer on a spindle -- not moving himself but merely holding steady while he pulled her up and down on his prick, almost as if he were using her cunt to masturbate himself.
She twisted nimbly about, turning her cunt around on his prick like a nut on a bolt.
Gribble began to walk around the room. He held his shoulders back and his loins thrust forwards, counterbalancing the burden astride his cock.
She clung to his neck and wriggled her ass around in wild loops and jerks. She swooped and spun like a witch on a broomstick, panting and gasping out carnal incantations.
He jammed his click up hard, and she fairly bounced on the thrust, then jarred down to the hilt.
But although she was no lightweight -- no woman with tits that large and an ass that well packed could be an insignificant burden -- his powerful pecker did not falter under the impetus of her descent. It absorbed the falling mass and rebounded back up like a spring uncoiling.
Erma threw her head and shoulders back, turning her face from side to side. Her eyes were narrowed with lust and she was biting her lower lip. Her pussy felt as if it were going to ignite, to suddenly burst into flames.
Then, as if to douse those carnal flames, her cunt began to foam. Creamy cunt juice poured down his prick as he lifted her. As he let her descend on his huge cock, the pussy juice was pumped out under pressure. Ribbons of glistening oil soaked her crotch and ran down her thighs, and heavy drops splattered to the floor at his feet.
"I'm creaming!" she wailed.
But he knew that full well; he could feel her pussy melting around his cock. He braced his feet, tensed his thighs and slammed hard into her womb.
His orgasm hosed her cunt in a towering torrent, the thick cum spewing into her loins. Then, flowing through her cunt-tube, the blended oils of fucking washed back down his stalk and poured from her unfurled cuntlips in a veritable deluge.
He poured a second load into her and her cunt melted again and another Niagara of fuck juice flooded from the socket where they were coupled -- creamy banners and foamy ribbons, globs of cum and slippery ropes of cunt juice.
His knees turned to water, as if he had shot all his life force into her. His very skeleton was transformed into cum and spilled from his dick.
He staggered to the bed and knelt on the edge. He lifted her crotch off his cock as if taking a hat off a peg, and deposited her on the bed where she sat, panting, her legs spread and his cum flowing from her pink cunt.
He fell face-down beside her, his weakened knees not bending.
Living with this randy divorcee, he saw, was not going to be a relaxing thing.
"You didn't really think you were married to a fucking rubber dick, did you?"
She giggled, and said, "Naw, shit no. It was just a laugh. And Moon McCoy had a very suckable prick."
"Christ," he said. "You cheated on me before you even met me."
She blinked, then laughed...
He said, "Was that true... about your daughter?"
"Ummm... sort of. I mean, it's true that I caught her fucking herself wildly with my rubber prick and..." she lowered her eyes, "... and her pussy did look tasty. But I'd never do a thing like that, Boris. That would be incest. Sort of. I guess."
Then she said, "But if you want to bring another girl home for me... for us..."
Gribble smiled. He had no mistaken idea that he could fairly expect fidelity from a woman like this and, not basically a man who suffered from jealousy, he figured that he might as well make the most the situation. It sounded like a lot of fun.
And Erma was thinking how lucky she was that she had found an excuse to get Candy out of the house. Otherwise, she would never have brought this big-cocked stud home.
She did, to her credit, feel a bit sorry for Candy.
She wondered if the girl was getting along all right. Did she have a job? Was she eating right?
Candy didn't have a job yet. But she'd just eaten Jack Turner's dick.
And, presently, she went to apply for a job as a mechanic at Zeke Washburn's service station and garage.
Chapter Five
Zeke Washburn yawned and stretched, awakening. He pulled the sheet back and regarded his hard-on.
His cock was not overly long, but it was thick as a radiator hose and durable as a monkey wrench.
But Zeke took no pleasure in looking at his tool and, in fact, he sighed unhappily and looked morose, because although Zeke was warned, he had no place to put that splendid hard-on. His wife, Catherine, slept in her own bedroom.
She had not allowed Zeke to fuck her in a month.
Zeke couldn't figure out why, a woman who had been such a passionate lover in the days of their courtship should suddenly turn frigid after they were wed.
He knew for a fact that she had been a craver -- if not a nymphomaniac -- before he had met her. He knew this because he had met her at a gang-bang when, fifth in a line of nine, he had fucked her for the first time.
And after he had married her, he could find no fault with her lovemaking in the early years -- when he had been a struggling young mechanic, working day and night in order to save enough money to buy his own place of business.
They had fucked with great frequency and gusto, and she had even complained that because he worked such long hours, he didn't have enough time for screwing.
And then, after he had bought his own place and was a moderate success and had plenty of time for fucking, Catherine had abruptly turned cold as ice.
The better he treated her and the more gifts that he gave her, the colder she became. It seemed a paradox to Zeke.
In fact, it was quite the reverse. She was frigid now because Zeke was successful, not despite the fact.
For Catherine Washburn was a social climber!
Then Zeke had been a penniless young man and she had been the local harlot, everything had been fine. She had fucked everyone in town and, figuring her reputation was shot for eternity, had no hopes of social elevation. When she agreed to marry Zeke, she was certainly not marrying beneath herself, for no one could have been lower on the local social scale than Catherine, who had once balled the entire football team -- even to the water boy -- at a single locker room session.
The team had gone through her so fast that some of them didn't even trouble to take their shoulder pads off, and one -- the fullback -- even left his helmet and face guard on, so he wouldn't have to kiss her. Someone had stuffed the tapered end of a football up her cunt at one point and Catherine, by that time completely abandoned to her lust, had not even noticed the difference as she humped away with the football between her legs and the halfback's dick in her mouth.
Thus, she was grateful to Zeke for wedding her, despite her sordid history, and she had even loved him, in her fashion. She hadn't cheated on him very much.
But then Zeke, through his hard labors, had become a successful businessman.
Catherine was no longer the wife of a mechanic, no longer merely the ramp -- ,oh no! Catherine had become Mrs. Washburn, the respectable wife of a businessman. She saw herself in a new light. But it was impossible for her to see Zeke in a new light. Although Zeke was the successful businessman of whom she was the wife, he was till Zeke to her -- still no more than a common laborer who had wed the local slut. And now that she was respectable, how on earth could she be expected to fuck a man like that? She abruptly terminated their sex life. The only time she allowed him to fuck her was when she had been drinking enough so that she totally forgot her new station in life and reverted to her past ways. He bought her furs. He bought her diamonds. He took her dining at the most fashionable restaurants and joined the most upper-class clubs and organizations. And the more she was bedecked with furs and jewels, the more she lunched at the country club or the tennis club, the more she fell herself above a man who had had such low beginnings -- who had come home with grease on his hands!
Who could blame this fine, respectable woman?
She had lovers.
She was totally indiscriminate in selecting these lovers, taking them by availability rather than preference -- that is to say, she fucked at and sundry.
For seeing herself as a modern Lady Chatterly, she saw nothing out of line in taking base-born lover. It was an upper class thing to do.
It was having a base-born husband that bothered her.
Except when she was drunk.
She had not been drunk for a month and Zeke had not fucked her for a month, and that was why he regarded his admirable hard-on with disfavor.
Zeke sighed.
He contemplated jerking his cock, but the idea did not thrill him and he decided to take a piss, instead. That process served to soften his dick, although a nagging urgency remained in his overloaded balls.
Maybe Catherine would be different this morning, he thought, without much hope.
He put his bathrobe on and went to the kitchen. He made coffee for himself and tea for her.
She didn't like tea but considered it the proper thing to have in the morning.
He made her two English muffins, which he called crumpets, and he put imported marmalade on the tray.
He went to Catherine's room. The door wasn't locked, for she knew he wouldn't dare inter without knocking.
Balancing the tray on his knee, he knocked.
Catherine was playing with her pussy.
She was a handsome woman, long and angular. Her hair was jet black on both head and crotch. Her long legs were firm and muscular from all the development they'd had in her former years when she had humped so rigorously. Her tits were firm despite all the mauling they bad suffered.
She was not masturbating, at least not to the point of orgasm. She was merely petting and stroking her cunt to get it nicely wet and warm so that, as soon as her husband had gone to the garage, she would be in the proper state of arousal to go out and find herself a lover.
She had been doing this for half an hour while she heard Zeke in the kitchen -- like common servant.
She held her cuntlips open with her left hand and slowly ran her fingertips up and down her creamy gash and across her taut clit.
Each time the thrill built to a point where ensuing orgasm threatened, she stopped for few minutes and let her pussy cool down a little. Then she repeated the process.
She was just on the point of pushing he middle finger elegantly up her hole when Zeke knocked.
She withdrew her hands from her cunt but didn't bother to cover her nakedness.
"You may enter," she said.
Zeke came in, balancing the tray as he turned to close the door behind him. When turned around and found himself confronted by her bare crotch, the thick black mound bisected by a pink, creamy gash, he almost dropped the tray.
Hope sprang up in his breast.
His cock sprang out of his bathrobe and twanged into a vibrant erection. The knob bumped against the bottom of the tray, like a rod supporting it.
Catherine grimaced at this phallic display. His hopes sank, but did not vanish, for her juicy cunt was still in evidence.
"I've fetched your breakfast, darling," he said.
"Quite," she said.
He advanced to the bed, dick humming tinder the tray, tray shaking in his hands.
"Thank you, Ezekiel," she intoned. His name, in fact, was not Ezekiel. He had been christened Zeke by his low-born parents. But although she was well aware of the fact, he had taken to calling him Ezekiel at the same time that she had cut off his pussy.
He put the tray on the nightstand. She regarded his stout pecker with distaste. "You may go," she said.
"Honey..."
"You are dismissed."
"Aw, honey..."
"You may, I expect, call me darling, if you must. Honey is such a vulgar endearment, don't you know?"
"Darling... I really am sort of frustrated..."
"A common complaint amongst the common."
"Look at this!"
He wrapped his fist around the base of his base pecker and shook it at her.
"How very sordid," she said, averting her gaze.
"Aw, gee whiz... you used to like it well enough. Remember how you used to suck it for me?"
"Vile fellow," she said.
"Cathy..."
Her green eyes sparked fiercely.
"Catherine!" she corrected him.
She had been known as Carnal Cathy when he'd first met her, but there was little point in reminding her of that.
He said, "Catherine please?"
"Certainly not. It's bad enough that I married beneath myself, you surely don't expect me to fuck you, as well?"
She knew that the upper classes never had been reluctant to use direct language -- only the pitiful middle classes were guilty of euphemisms.
Zeke sat on the edge of the bed. She shifted away as if avoiding a garbage truck in an alley. His hard, thick cock stood up like a spike.
He said, "But, hon... err... darling Catherine... when we got married, it was I who married below myself, not you."
Her nostrils flared with fury. He had stroked a sore spot.
She said, "A sign of your low beginnings, you cur, that you cannot grasp change. We shall speak no more of the past."
Zeke sighed. He had an inkling of the way she rationalized and he figured he would try a new approach.
He said, "I'm going to hire another mechanic today, darling. I know you'll be pleased that the business is so successful, that we have more employees."
That did please her. She would say to the ladies at her bridge club, "Yes, we've been forced to put on another man, you know; must continue to expand."
His dick was expanding, shrinking, expanding again, like a lung pumped up by fleeting hope.
"Fine," she said. "Now run along, that's a good fellow."
Zeke said, "At least, I was going to. I guess it will have to wait, now."
"Whatever for?"
"Well, I can't go to the garage with a hard on, Catherine. Think of the disgrace! Why, we'd no doubt drop a minimum of three rungs on the ladder of social success."
Catherine was horrified.
Zeke pressed his advantage, said, "Or even worse... seeing me in an unsatisfied state, all my customers -- all the upper class ones, you know -- why, they'd be certain to think that my wife was somehow incapacitated. They would probably think, knowing the way they think, that you have a social disease!"
"Awk!" said Catherine.
Zeke shrugged. He stood up, dick bouncing. "Wait a minute," she said. "Can't you masturbate or something of that nature?"
"No," he said. "I dropped a crankcase on my hands yesterday; can't get a firm grip. So I guess I'll just have to stay home all day and wait for this hard-on to go away. Might take two days. A week, even. Seems a shame."
Catherine took a deep breath and came to a decision.
"I shall jerk you off," she stated. This was a big concession for her, but she had two very good reasons. She wanted him to go to work so that the business, and hence her social station, would increase; she wanted to go to work so that she could have another man in the house and do some social strata severing screwing.
And her offer left Zeke in two minds. He didn't want a handjob, he wanted a fuck... but a handjob was better than nothing.
He said, "Well, if that's the best I can get."
"Fetch me a glove," she said.
Zeke sighed. He went to her dresser and found a white silk glove. He brought it back to the bed. She was sitting up, sipping tea and munching on a crumpet. Her thighs word not together and her cunt looked very inviting and, he was pleased to see, her nipples were pert and stiff.
He figured that she was not really as disinterested as she pretended to be.
She licked the butter from her fingers and elegantly drew on the silken glove.
Zeke knelt beside her, thrusting his cock forward.
She folded her gloved hand around the root.
She still held the teacup in her other hand, and she was sipping tea as she began to stroke him. But her eyes slid to the side as she gazed at the big handful of dick which she was pumping.
"Try not to delay too long, Ezekiel," she said. "This really is an unpleasant task. Really, we should hire a maid to handle this sort of menial work, don't you know? Actually."
The thought of having a maid whose job was to whack him off caused his cock to bulge further, and the big knob flared out mightily as her silken hand glided up and down.
Catherine's neck arched and her face moved closer to him. Her interest in what she was doing was plain -- even more than interest, she looked quite fascinated. Just like in the old days, Zeke thought, before she got all frigid on me.
She twisted onto her flank, leaning still closer.
Zeke was tempted to slip his hand between her thighs and play with that adorable, creamy gash. But he didn't dare take a chance. He was getting his rocks off, and even though it was no more than a hand-job, it was a hell of a lot better than not getting his jollies at all. Never able to figure how his wife would react to a situation, he was afraid that if he tried to play with her pussy, she might get angry enough to terminate his hand-job before he came.
That would leave him more frustrated than ever.
He clenched his fists, struggling against the impulse to finger her cunt or to clasp those big, firm, stiff-tipped knockers that were swaying about just in front of his cockhead.
It occurred to him that in this position, his pecker head was aimed right at her face, the knob pointing upwards and her face turned down.
It occurred to him, furthermore, that he had not come in a month and that his balls were so full of stored-up spunk that he was going to squirt like a fire hose.
The logical deduction from these two facts -- the relative position of Catherine's intrigued face and his cockhead, along with the amount or cum he was ready to spill under such enormous pressure -- was that he was going to shoot right in her face!
Catherine was a hard girl to figure out, he figured.
Refusing to handle his dick with her bare hand, she had donned a glove. And yet, she was leaning right over his cock, fascinated, her countenance contorted by a look that could only be lust.
Her mouth was open! Her lower lip trembled and he could see the pink tip of her tongue slipping back and forth just inside the parted lips.
Didn't she realize how far his spunk was going to travel? Didn't she know that when a fellow has stored up his wad for a month it was damned well going to come out like a shot from a catapult, a creamy rock from a slingshot? Couldn't she predict the trajectory that his thick load would take, looping right over her thrusting, bobbling tits and spattering her mouth?
Should he warn her?
The hell he'd warn her!
A hand-job was a pretty fucking poor substitute for his proper marital rights, and if she got mad at him for dousing her face with cum, she could stuff it!
He pushed his hips forward. She made no attempt to get out of range or elude his aim.
She groped behind herself and put the teacup down on the bed. She moved her thereby emptied hand out and refilled it with a handful of swollen nut-sac, squeezing his balls as if she intended to work his dick like a bellows.
"Come..." she whimpered.
Then, remembering herself, she said, "I mean, get this nasty task over with."
But then, once again, she said, "Ummm, come..."
Her right hand was skimming up and down his stalk with rapid strokes. His balls ballooned in her left hand and his shaft gave a great lurch, expanding in preparation for the load that was going to shoot up the tube. His whole belly felt packed brimful of cum, now that relief was at hand. He began to tingle from the tips of his curled toes to the roots of his hair. Great waves of delight swooped and swept through his body and up his thighs.
It was a hardship to go a month without an orgasm, but now that it was coming it was almost worth it. For the thrill, so long dormant, was charging; him with an electric sensation greater than he'd ever experienced before -- or at least since the first time when, not knowing what he was doing but knowing only that it felt good, he had pulled himself off in the bathroom.
Now he grunted, in some last-second and wordless warning, as the thrill peaked.
If she understood what his warning grunt signified, then either she was unaware of her position or was not loath to receive seminal fire, for she merely leaned a bit closer and her lips parted a bit more and the pink tip of her tongue pushed out a bit further.
Zeke howled with joy.
His balls blew like plastic explosive and his cum shot up his shaft with such velocity and power that his hips were jammed backwards by the recoil.
His heavy cream shot from his cockhead under magnum force. The first white spurt did not seem to describe any curve whatsoever; the muzzle velocity was so great that the thick wad defied gravity and went out straight as a taut clothesline.
The geyser burst directly into her parted lips.
She gurgled with ecstasy and her mouth opened wider. Zeke saw his cum skimming over her arched tongue as it tumbled back into her throat.
His hips, obeying Newtonian law, had been thrust back, but his jism, scorning any such descriptive limitations, hosed her with a rope of creamy coils.
And she was drinking it!
Her throat worked convulsively as she swallowed his spunk, and her, hand never missed a beat, pumping furiously up and down as he shoved his cock forward again and blew a second rope of cum into her face.
He poured a third creamy rocket into her heavenly face. And yet a fourth.
He thought he was never going to stop coming. All the cum that he had stored for a month was ripping from his cock in a titantic deluge.
His fifth spurt was weaker. It left his dickhead in a parabola, splattering her tits like a quicksilver shower.
His sixth merely trickled over her fist.
He slumped, drained to the core.
Catherine kept pumping to make sure that she had milked him to the dregs.
Through glazed eyes, Zeke stared at his wife. Her whole face was dripping with cum. It was in her black hair, like globs of ivory set in jade. It was in the hollow of her throat, on the graceful slope of her neck, on the upper slopes of her plump tits, trickling down her cleavage, hanging in little congealing droplets from her nipples.
And in her mouth!
He stared, amazed at the amount of cum he had spent. He doubted that any man had ever shot such a load -- or any elephant, for that matter.
Her hand slowed.
His dick was diminishing.
She hesitated for a moment, eyeing his cock as if to make sure the job was done.
Then she did an incredible thing: she held her hand out to him. The white silk glove was soaking with spunk.
She said, "Kindly remove this soiled glove and burn it, for I shall never wear it again."
Zeke could only gape at her, his mouth hanging open.
Soaked with spunk from hairline to belly, she had asked him to remove the soiled glove as if it were too repulsive fat her to deal with.
Zeke obediently peeled the glove from her delicate hand.
Catherine held her hand up, fingers splayed, gazing into her palm studiously.
She said, "That's all right, then. I didn't get a single drop on my hand."
Chapter Six
Zeke looked back from the door.
His wife was sitting up in bed, her face haughty, composed, aristocratic and her right hand was the only part of her upper body that was not glistening with spunk.
He shook his head. Confused, bemused and dumfounded, he left the room.
But his balls had been emptied -- oh, how they had been emptied! He felt a hell of a lot better. His wife had some funny quirks, but if she would give him a handjob like that once in a while; he figured he had no cause to complain.
He threw the soiled glove in the incinerator, thinking that he would have to remember to buy her another pair.
Hell, he would buy her a gross, if she kept on using them in that useful fashion.
He went out to his car.
A rangy, leathery fellow was coming down the road, pulling a cart full of gardening tools after him. An itinerant gardener, Zeke figured.
It meant nothing to him, for he did his own gardening and had no idea that his wife was susceptible to having her carnal furrows plowed and fertilized by passersby and tradesmen.
He drove off to interview would-be mechanics.
Candy, the would-be mechanic, said, "How do I look?"
"Delicious," Jack said.
She had put on a pair of overalls, with bib and shoulder straps. She wore nothing underneath and, as she turned sideways, he could see her tit resting inside the bib like a cantaloupe in a shopping bag.
"You think I ought to put some grease on my face?"
Jack grinned.
"I got some grease left in my grease gun," he said.
Candy giggled.
"It's the wrong color," she said.
"Got some shoe polish?"
"What a clever idea!" she squealed, clapping her hands together in delight.
She fetched a tin of bootblack.
Jack produced his grease gun.
Candy, deft mechanic that she was, jerked him off into the black polish. He had already spent most of his spunk in her cunt and mouth, but he had a pretty good dribble left and she nimbly pumped it out.
She licked his pecker head clean, knowing that a good mechanic always cleans his tools after work. Then she stirred the cum around in the polish with her index finger and smeared it on her cheek and forehead.
"Perfect," Jack said. "It'll fool anyone." Candy was pleased. It never hurt to look the part when you were applying for a job, she reckoned.
Candy went to see Zeke Washburn.
Catherine Washburn's composure vanished the moment that her bewildered but empty balled husband had left the bedroom. Her green eyes gleamed.
That had been the best drink of cum she'd had in ages; although, of course, she could never have admitted that to him, peasant that he was. Catherine was anything but a stranger to cum, but she had never known any man to shoot with such delightful plentitude. She'd had more cum at one time, but that was when she was giving head to the football team or gobbling the dicks of a dozen assorted strangers. She had been quite impressed with Zeke's seminal abundance.
She would never have stooped to suck hi cock, certainly, since he was a husband of the lower classes, but drinking his cum was a different matter, as long as he milked it out in dainty and tidy fashion -- while wearing a sill glove.
Husbands were husbands and cum was cum.
And she loved it.
As soon as the door closed behind the departing benefactor, Catherine began to lick her creamy lips, gathering up the jism that sparkled there. She cupped her fat tits and lifted them. Dipping her head down, she tongued his slimy jism from the heavy globes and the taut nipples.
She got hornier as she sucked on her nipples, and her pussy began to simmer violently. She rubbed her belly with her hand, and then she tongued her hand. She bent down to lap up a few drops of cum that had dripped onto the bed and were congealing in little ivory nuggets.
She wanted more.
She reached into her crotch and, using her hand like a scoop, gathered up a handful of cunt juice and delivered it to her greedy mouth. Cunt juice was not as tasty as cum, to her reckoning, but it was pretty damn good.
Then, her oral appetite slaked, she started to think about where she could find a man to deal with her burning cunt.
She wanted to telephone someone. Her pussy was so ready for cock that she knew it would be embarrassing to walk the streets -- with audible squishing emanating from her fucknest.
And she didn't want to prolong the encounter, for fear that her inspired cunt might just cream on its own, for she considered an empty-cunted orgasm a bit of a waste.
Then what should happen but that the doorbell was rung. The itinerant gardener had found a ripe garden.
Catherine opened the door.
She had pulled on a filmy negligee, which she held closed just below her tits. It was semitransparent, and a hint of her dark areolas could be discerned through the clinging material. The pert thrust of her nipples was evident, the sharp tips pressing out against the gown. And lower, the outline of her dark pubic mound could be seen and one bare thigh arched through the front of the robe. This wasn't really a studied effect; since she had no idea who was at the door; rather it was a casual thing -- she didn't give a damn who saw her sexy body. If it worked to her advantage in that the caller was a prospective lover, all well and good. If it shocked someone, that was just too bad, for she knew full well that the aristocracy were never overly modest in such things.
Lords and Ladies cursed like troopers, American Presidents spoke in expletives, and seeing herself on an equal level, she saw no reason why she should fail to flaunt her body.
The caller blinked when he saw her.
Catherine brazenly looked him up and down from head to crotch. He was tall and lean and fit. His angular face was weathered as a cowboy's. His brown hair was trimmed short and parted on the left.
Catherine noted these attributes. He was not exactly her dream man, not the vision she would have summoned up had she been calling her ideal lover, but neither were they a minus factor. She liked, tall, lean fellows and did not give a hoot for the length or style of their hair -- although, it is true, she did like a man who had a nice heavy pubic growth and hairy balls -- as long as they possessed a certain adequate prowess in bed.
But to her disappointment, she could see no promising bulge in the front of his chino trousers. Still, she reckoned, the man had not known what he was going to encounter at this door, since he was a total stranger, and perhaps a large cock lurked dormant in his pants.
She moved her hips a bit, so that the filmy negligee glided across her belly and her naked thigh thrust out a bit further.
He blinked again. He seemed speechless.
"Yes?" she said.
"Errr... did I wake you, Ma'am?"
She made an impatient gesture. The. Washburn's had no servants, but she said, "It's the maid's day off, I'm afraid... and the butler has been sent on an errand, with the chauffeur, of course. Thus, I find myself in the unlikely position of being forced to answer my own door. That is why I am wearing a lounging robe."
She thought about that for a moment. It didn't quite follow, did it? Oh well, she thought. She shrugged it off and said, "What may I do for you?"
"I'm looking for gardening work," he said.
As if afraid that she would not believe him, he gestured at the cart he had left on the sidewalk. Hoes and rakes and hedge trimmers bristled from the cart.
"My dear man," said haughty Catherine, wife of a prominent businessman, "surely you never for a moment thought that we did not have a full-time gardener?"
"Oh," he said, glancing at the yard.
Catherine was inclined to dismiss the impertinent fellow. She felt quite insulted that he should have believed, however correctly, that they needed a gardener.
But then she thought: A gardener... why, that's almost the same as a game keeper.
The concept was romantic. She saw herself a lady, wed to an impotent cripple -- for what was more crippling than being base-born? She saw that she deserved some romance.
She said, "But wait... I believe I do have a job of work for you to deal with... errr... with which you may deal, I mean to say. Please come."
"I'll fetch my tools," he said, turning away. In profile, she could make out a certain fullness at the front of his pants.
She said, "No need, my good man. Your implements are far too crude. You shall be supplied with the tool."
He looked a bit bemused, but he turned back and followed her into the house.
Catherine led him to the bedroom.
He said, "I don't do window boxes or potted plants, Ma'am. Or wax fruit."
He was looking around for a growth of some sort, obviously uncomfortable in a plantless boudoir.
Catherine held up a pair of scissors. "Are your coarse hands too clumsy to manipulate these instruments? Are your fingers too thick to fit?"
He looked at the scissors. He took them from her and made a few tentative snips at the air.
He said, "Well, I can use em, I guess. But what..."
Catherine smiled, sweetly at him. "I want you to trim my hedge," she said.
"What hedge is that, Ma'am?"
"This hedge," said the woman, and she flipped open the front of her negligee, revealing her abundant pubic growth.
The gardener blinked, but recovered quickly. He grinned in a Gary Cooper fashion and snipped the scissors again. He was obviously not as naive as he appeared.
"Why, I can handle that, Ma'am," he said.
"And handle it you shall, my good man," said Catherine.
Catherine slipped the gown from her shoulders and, stark naked, stretched out on the bed.
The gardener sat beside her.
He studied the job just as if he were faced with the maintenance of a formalized garden.
Catherine's bush was curly and dark, a wide triangle that reached out towards her hipbones. A thin line of black coils ran up from the top of the wedge to her navel. She opened her thighs a bit so that all of the job was revealed to him, and he nodded as he noted that her cunt was wet and parted, a swampy pink pool in the middle of the dark garden. Her clit stuck out like a marble statue.
This was a well-kept lawn, he thought. It needed only a bit of trimming at the edges.
"Can you do it?" she asked.
"Mmm-mmm. My name is Fellows, by the way. If I do a good job, maybe you could recommend me to your neighbors?"
"Certainly, Fellows."
He slipped the tiny scissors along the periphery of her cuntal mound and snipped a few errant hairs, trimming her bush into a perfect triangle. Then he snipped a hair or two off her cuntlips, very carefully. He slid a hand under her hips, lifted her slightly, and snipped at the line of hair that ran into the crack of her ass. He drew back and studied his handiwork. "That's it," he said.
"A job well done," she said, admiring the cuneal symmetry of her cunt-thicket.
"Anything else you want done?"
She smiled. "Why don't you look it over carefully, with your skilled eye, and tell me what you think?"
"Well, Ma'am... the hedge is neat as could be but, if you don't mind my saying so, your pool could use a bit of a cleaning."
"It's not stagnant, is it?" she said, horrified.
"Naw. Just swampy... needs to be pumped out."
"Perhaps if you were to suck it."
"Right you are, Ma'am."
Fellows sat up and put the scissors on the table. He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off.
"You don't mind, do you?" he said. "If I'm going to take a dip in the pool, I'd better get my duds off."
"Understandable," she said.
He stood up and opened his pants, let them drop, pushed his shorts down. His cock had started to harden and, freed of the underpants, it snapped straight out in front of him like a fleshy plowshare. Catherine saw that it would be a very useful tool for planting seed.
He kicked his shoes off, stepped out of pants and shorts and, naked, sat down again.
Catherine spread her thighs wide apart. Fellows buried his face between them. His tongue stirred the swampy oval gash, then stabbed up her hot cunt hole. He fitted his lips to her cuntlips and began to suck steadily while his tongue glided through the creamy slot like an eel through a pond. She could tell that this was not the first time that this skilled worker had sucked a cunt. And he was obviously a man who enjoyed his work, for he was grinding his head around in her crotch with gusto.
He spread her cunt wide open with his green thumbs, and sent his tongue slithering far up the tunnel.
He began to suck steadily on her clitoris. He blew up her hole -- no doubt to aerate the depths -- then drew back to study the results of his work. Cunt juice flooded her gaping slot and trickled down into the newly trimmed crack of her ass. Ducking in, he ran his tongue upwards in a broad, flattened slurp, lapping her from asshole to clit.
Catherine squirmed and moaned.
He lapped her slot, emptying it.
It filled up again instantly, creamier than ever, for this was no manmade pool but a natural spring bubbling from the depths of her loins.
Fellows set to work doggedly then, his mouth opened and clamped over bet cunt like a limpet. He sucked with a steady rhythm. Her cream trickled into his mouth with ever increasing abundance, and he gulped it down without faltering. His mouth was open wide so that he was sucking on her whole pussy, from clitoris to perineum, his lips unpeeled around the tasty morsel.
The wondrous thrill began to creep laterally across Catherine's belly and craw up her spread thighs. She closed her legs around his busy head, opened them wide, clamped them over him again. Her belly humped up and down and her hips rolled from side to side as she worked her cunt around in his face.
The thrill built higher and higher. Her hand groped down and closed around the hilt of his cock, as if, in the delirious and dizzying ride to her orgasm, she were grasping at a straw for support; as if, sinking in climax, she clutched at his stout driftwood, seeking a buoyant handhold to keep her head above water.
His cock flared mightily in her grip, the shaft expanding and the big shovel-shaped knob spreading out, so that it looked as if she held a trowel in her hand.
Electric spasms shook her loins. Her cunt creamed, the sluggish swamp becoming a tremendous, turbulent torrent that poured into his eager mouth as if a dam had broken somewhere far back in her cunt.
"I'm coming!" she cried.
He sucked voraciously.
Catherine spun to dizzy heights, hovered there in the suspension of reality, then came crashing down as her orgasm throbbed to its creamy conclusion.
Fellows continued to suck until he was sure he had sucked her dry.
She lay still, panting.
He looked up with his Gary Cooper grin, his smiling lips glistening with her pussy-nectar.
"Pool's empty, Ma'am," he said.
"I know," she said.
He raised his eyebrows.
"Of course," said randy Catherine, "now that it's empty, you have to fill it again."
Although Catherine never objected to sucking the cock or drinking the cum of a baseborn lover, she rebelled at the idea of kissing such a person on the lips.
She knew how to avoid that situation.
She had learned the trick from a dog breeder -- and, truth be known, from two of his German Shepherds -- and now she rolled nimbly onto her belly and rose up on her knees, so that her long, lithe body formed a tripod, supported at knees and head, with her firm ass at the highest point.
"Dog-style, huh?" said Fellows.
He didn't mind at all. He knelt behind, her upthrust ass and wrapped a fist around the root of his thundering cock. He gave it a push-pull to make sure it was cleared of obstruction and ready to plow that fertile furrow between her ripe thighs.
He fitted the shovel-tipped prick to her cunthole.
Catherine wriggled, eager for cock despite the lovely climax she'd pouted into his mouth. That was the way she was. Getting head made her want cock, and getting cock made her want head, and everything made her horny.
Fellows fed her two inches of pecker head.
She whimpered with delight. Her greedy cunt sucked on his knob like a vacuum cleaner, dragging him in.
He clamped his hands on her hipbones and aided her back onto his cock as if he were tilling on a boot. His whole big prick vanished up her hole, and his bloated balls jammed right against her crotch.
He started to hump her, but her cunt was clutching his cock so greedily that he could not withdraw.
She was squirming around on his prick, her ass describing wild arcs and her hips working like pistons.
Fellows placed his hands on her ass and pushed her off his prick so that only the tip remained inside her cunt. Then he switched his grip to her hipbones and dragged her back onto, the vibrant shaft to the root.
This initial in-and-out stroke loosened the ferocious grip of her cunt. He began to hump her with long, rippling strokes, gliding easily up the slippery hole.
Catherine, thrilled at having a huge pecker buried in her loins, said, "Oh, you glorious woodsman! You wondrous gamekeeper! You rustic marvel."
"Gardener, Ma'am," he corrected her. But her fantasy was not to be denied. "Say fuck," she whimpered. "Fuck," said Fellows as he shoveled his fat prick into her steaming snatch.
"Say cunt!" she wailed.
"Cunt!" he bellowed, getting into the spin of the situation as he got into her cunt to the depths.
"Say D. H. Lawrence!" she cried.
"D. H. Lawrence?" he said.
It satisfied her.
She buried her face into the pillow an reaching back between her legs, grasped by his swinging balls. She began to pull him in to her cunt by the balls, jamming her ass back to meet his cock as it plowed up the steam furrow.
His lean belly slapped her taut ass. Hi powerful strokes tilted her pelvis upwards that he was jolting her right, into the air an driving her head down into the pillow -- elevating the tripod of her position with the fury of his attack.
Catherine realized that her cunt had not been so violently plundered since that memorable afternoon when she had been fucked by the strongman of a passing carnival. Lost in lust, she cried. "Fuck... cunt... cock... suck... bugger... cum... cuntjuice..." and then she faltered for a moment, caught her breath, said, "pussy... spunk... assholes... balls..."
And of that choice catalogue of terms, two of them had struck the lusty gardener as having been neglected. Bugger and assholes. A wily look stole over his face.
Fellows was well-accustomed to planting seed in fertile fields, but it was seldom that he got a chance to plow a barren pasture. His patent harrow throbbed for a new field.
He pulled his cock out of her cunt all the way. Her cuntlips almost turned inside out as they struggled to retain a grip on his cockhead.
She wailed, thinking that he had slipped out by mistake, and her ass flew about as she waited for him to plow into her pussy once again.
But he rose up higher, so that instead of dipping into her cunt, his cock thumped on her ass.
He spread his big hands out on the cheeks of her ass and pushed them open, parting the crack and revealing the tight brown bud of her asshole.
She squirmed, not comprehending his intentions and thinking that, awkward working man that he was, he was floundering at this precision job.
He fitted the head of his dick to her assring.
"Not there!" she wailed.
"Lady," he said, "if you don't want it there you ought to put up a scarecrow."
He pushed his cock into her ass.
Catherine wailed as she felt that big spade shaped cockhead dig into her shitter.
He pushed again, feeding her the whole big head. Her asshole clamped, tight, around his stalk behind the knob.
It hurt for a moment. Then the thrill came, obliterating the slight pain -- making that pain no more than another tingling aspect of the thrill itself, adding a new dimension to her carnal pleasures.
Catherine saw that her back field had bee fallow too long; it was ready for the plow.
"Oh! Do it!" she wailed. "Fuck my ass!" Which was precisely what Fellows intended. He held her firmly by the hips and fed his dick to her ass inch by inch as Catherine writhed about, grinding her back as if she were screwing herself onto his prick.
His big cock slipped in to the hill, the flaring knob pushing into her bowels and his bloated nuts lamming into her abandoned cunt.
Catherine gasped as she felt her asshole full to the brim with pulsating pecker.
He held the full penetration for a moment, then began to plow in and out. Her asshole gripped him firmly, and her whole pelvis moved on his strokes so that he was not fucking into her but merely lugging her along as he humped.
But then her asshole adjusted to his bulk.
He began to bugger her truly then, long stroking his whole thundering cock into her ass, pulling back until only the head was buried, then plunging in again.
Catherine felt so full of cock that she looked down, at her belly to see if that big plunger was pressing a long furrow up along her torso.
Looking between her dangling tits, she saw his balls jammed into her cunt. She reached down and cupped those hairy nuts and began to rub them into her pussy and onto her vibrant clitoris, so that her cunt was not neglected while her asshole was so nicely pleasured by his remorseless fuckstick.
Fellows was rising to the peak. He had been aroused by eating her out and inspired by fucking her cunt; now she was squeezing his balls against her wet cunt and her tight asshole was working like a wringer on his cock.
He banged in savagely, growling and gasping. His hot reamer wedged into her asshole like a chisel, levering her loins upwards.
Catherine felt his cock spread and ignite in her ass. She fingered her clit furiously and worked his balls around in her cunt, desperately working to join him at the peak.
"I'm gonna fill your ass with cum," he growled as he poured the prick to her violently.
His words thrilled the lewd woman, who adored nothing more than being filled with cum in any hole.
Her pussy began to melt.
Then the gardener shoveled his spade into the hilt and spilled his fertile seed into her arid asshole.
Catherine felt his cum pour into her bowels in a steaming cascade. Her loins were incandescent with lust. Her pussy creamed, the hot juice overflowing onto his balls as it bubbled from her slot.
Snarling and moaning, Fellows emptied load after load of spunk into her tight ass, his whole lean body shaking and vibrating with the thrill.
Panting, he slowed, his labors done.
Catherine continued to grind her juicy ass against his belly and to work her cunt around on his emptied balls as she drained her own splendid orgasm to the termination.
She sank forward, coming off her knee and onto her belly. Her asshole slipped off his prong and a trickle of cum ran out of the tight hole and seeped down into her crotch, blending with the overflow of cuntjuice already there.
Fellows stretched out beside her.
"You have a green thumb, indeed," she said.
"And a brown dick," lie said.
But who could tend a garden without getting dirty?
Chapter Seven
And who could be a mechanic without getting dirty?
Well, she looked like a mechanic, all right, with that smear of oil on her face, thought Zeke Washburn as he gazed across the desk at the sexy young lady who was applying for the job.
And she looked sexy, to boot, in her one-piece overalls with nothing beneath them.
"Can you adjust spark plugs?" he asked.
"Naw."
"Tune an engine?"
"Nope."
He thought for a moment. So far, it seemed that she could do nothing mechanical, whatsoever. But she was applying for the job and, being a logical fellow and not knowing how firmly women's lib had taken root -- not to mention the root that was, at the moment, being planted in his wife's asshole -- he figured that she must have some mechanical skills.
"Clean the terminals of a battery?"
"Put air in tires?"
"Maybe... if you showed me how." He was getting exasperated.
Unabashed, Candy smiled at him. Her plump titties jiggled inside the denim bib.
"Look, Miss Thompson, can't you do a single thing of a mechanical nature?"
She looked amazed.
"Of course not," she said. "I'm a girl."
"I can see that," said Zeke, eyeing those bouncy boobs. "But why apply for a job as a mechanic?"
"'Cause it pays well."
"But you can't do it!"
"So what?"
"So I can't hire you!" he bellowed.
"You've got to."
He took a deep breath.
"Why?" he asked.
"Cause I'm a girl."
"Could you maybe explain that?"
"If you don't hire me, I'll report you for discriminating against me because of my sex," she said.
"But... but..." he spluttered, lost for words.
"I can have Humble the lawyer sue you... or maybe Germaine Greer and Kate Millet will come and picket your garage."
Zeke was horrified. The idea of having a picket line of militant Millets marching in front of his garage was overwhelming.
He figured that he had better hire Candy Thompson. Surely she could do something? He thought for a while; pulling at his lip.
"Can you wash cars?" he asked. "Sure," she said. "I'm a girl. Girls are good at washing."
It occurred to Zeke that Miss Thompson probably knew less about women's liberation than he did.
It was a refreshing thought.
"Miss Thompson," he said, "you are hired."
Candy beamed. "Oh, thank you, Mister Washburn," she said. "I'll be the best car-washer you ever had."
"I don't know... don't look to me that you even wash your face, Miss Thompson," he said, looking at the sooty smears.
"Oh, that." She gave him her disarming smile once more. "I just smeared that on my face to fool you. I should have known better than to try to deceive a smart man like you."
He looked proud.
"Handsome, too," said the wily girl. "Well, now... humphhh! Well, I must say it was a clever attempt, Miss Thompson."
She giggled. She said, "It's cum"
"Come again?"
"No, cum. You know. Spunk. It's not real oil. I jerked this guy off into a tin of boot black, see, d..."
Zeke stared at her.
Candy winked.
"Girls are good at that, too," she said.
Zeke's cock jumped right out of his pants. It sprang into a rock-hard bar and the big head came pushing out above the waistband of his trousers and lay flat against his belly, outside his white shirt.
Candy noticed this.
Flattened in that position, she thought his cockhead looked like the cap of a gas tank and, naturally, she wondered how much creamy fuel that tank contained and how long the nozzle was. She was staring hard at his emerging cockhead in a speculative manner, thinking that perhaps it might be a good idea for her to get on the good side of her new employer by doing something nice for him. It was evident that he needed something nice done, for the big slab of his prick was glowing.
Zeke never cheated on his wife. He didn't even realize that the head of his cock had made itself visible, for that reaction had been automatic -- in response to the girl's erotic words -- a reflex action so natural that it escaped his notice. His mind had not focused on sex, as his dick had, and he wondered what the girl with the cum-stained face was looking at his midriff so intently for.
He looked down...
He was horrified to discover that the swollen knob of his prick had slipped free from his pants.
"Oh, excuse me," he said, blushing.
"Nice dick," she said.
Zeke saw that he had no need of being embarrassed with a girl like this.
He tried to stuff his pecker head back down his pants, but the rod was standing firm and refused to bend. He saw that it would be necessary to open his belt and fly in order to swaddle his prick once more in clothing. But he was afraid that she might get the wrong idea if she saw him open his pants.
He turned away from her.
But Candy moved forwards so that she could still see his cock, in profile now.
"Looks like you need to come," she said.
He laughed nervously.
"I may not know much about motors," she said, "but I know lots about cocks. And it looks to me as if your cock needs a tune-up real bad. Want me to take care of it?"
"I'm a married man," he protested. "Then how come you've got a hard-on?" Because you're such a sexy piece, he thought. He had not had a fuck in a month and although his stately wife had jacked him off that morning, his dick was lusting for warm pussy.
Candy said, "How bout it? Want me to polish your knob before I start polishing cars?"
Candy was amused by his embarrassment. She was also horny for his handsome cock.
Zeke damned well wanted her to deal with his hard-on, but he was too embarrassed and shy to say so. He just stood there with his back turned while she leaned out so that she could look at his naked cockhead. When he didn't reply, Candy figured that she had better take the initiative physically, as she already had verbally, and she reached out and ran her fingertip over the swollen knob, tracing up the delta where the fat vein merged with the beveled head.
His knob throbbed lustily.
Candy drew his zipper down. She moved around so that she was standing in front of him, and opened his belt. His pants dropped. His cock was still trapped against his belly by the elastic band of his underwear, just the knob in sight, with the fat rod bulging in the cotton briefs.
Candy pulled the elastic out and let it snap back, playfully. Then she tugged his shorts down. His cock, freed, snapped out from his belly and stood up at a rampant angle. Although he had recently emptied his balls all over his wife, they were full and swollen again, his carnal crankcase filled with oil.
Candy cupped those bloated balls, lifting a if to judge their heft.
Bending down, she slipped her lips over his knob and began to suck lovingly on the meaty slab. Her head bobbed up and down, and Zeke began to push his hips out, fucking into her mouth.
Candy pulled away and smiled up at him.
"Want a blow-job?" she asked.
By this time, Zeke damned well had to have something.
He said, "If it's all the same to you, I could use some cunt."
She was surprised. She had never known a stranger to turn down head for pussy, given a choice. But she had no objections whatsoever.
She said, "Why, sure. You're the boss."
She unfastened the straps of her overalls. The bib dropped, exposing her ripe tits. She rose onto her toes, offering those firm globes to Zeke. He bent down and sucked on the stiff nipples, his head weaving back and forth as he gave equal time to each tingling tip. She cupped his head in her hands and worked her boobs against his face.
Then she lowered herself, her tits moving down his torso. She cupped those big globes together, deepening the cleavage, and Zeke ran his hard cock up the soft passage. His cockhead came squeezing out of her cleavage and lay along her breastbone. She lowered her head and tongued the tip.
He fucked her between the tits for a few moments, getting his prickhead licked on the upstroke.
Candy squirmed nimbly out of her overalls. She pushed her panties down and stepped out of them.
"This what you want?" she asked, cupping her honeypot with one hand as if it were detachable and she was going to hand it to him.
Zeke nodded. He had not spoken since stating his preference for pussy, and his vocal cords seemed to have stiffened in sympathy with his cock. He wasn't sure if he could speak.
But he knew full well that he could fuck, for his dick was rampaging around in front of his belly, drumming merrily away with every bit as much urgency as it had when he'd delivered it, along with breakfast, to his wife's bedroom.
Candy was quite thrilled at the prospect of being fucked by that admirable hunk of meat. It was not a handsome cock, but it looked useful and durable, the sort of heavy-duty cock that would not falter at the job. It was so hard that it could have been used as the clapper of a bell, ringing out against the metal, sounding the carnal chimes of lust.
Her pussy was steaming.
She moved to the desk and sat on the edge.
"This okay?" she asked, parting her thighs.
Zeke moved towards her, his dick looming before him.
Candy threw her shoulders back, bracing herself with her hands and hiking her pelvis up at the proper angle to accommodate his standing approach.
Zeke gazed at her juicy cunt in joyful expectation. There was something to be said for hiring girl mechanics, he reckoned -- especially girl mechanics with juicy tool boxes and cum smears on their faces.
He fitted his fat cock to her wet cunt.
Candy wiggled, starting to pant.
Zeke fed the prick to her.
He began shoveling his cock up her hole with gusto, his ass corkscrewing in, burying his prick to the root. Her talented pussy began to milk him, sucking and wringing his dick, molding itself to every inch of his pecker as he plowed in and out.
"Oh, fill me!" the girl cried, as if her cunt were a fuel tank and his dick a gas nozzle.
Her slick thighs clamped-around his heaving flanks. She was humping against him, pushing her cunt down over his cock as he pushed in, then grinding her hips as he pulled out.
Zeke cupped her ass in his hands, pulling her onto his prick. Leaning down, he began to suck on her tits.
She hooked her heels behind his ass.
They pumped furiously together, both riding toward the heights of sensation. Zeke was thundering into her, his big piston filling her cylinder with great compression, the tachometer of lust rising towards the red line of release. He was cranking his big rod into her with wild abandon and she met him with a matched vigor, their loins combining to create a carnal engine, running smoothly in conjunction.
He howled like a crazed wolf. His big cock hosed her womb with a thick jet of smoldering spunk.
The instant she felt his hot stream whitewashing her pussy, Candy began to come, her loins melting around his spurting cock and her cuntjuice gushing out to blend with his cum in a high-octane mixture.
Freewheeling, he sped up her, shooting jet after jet from his rampaging fuck-tool, emptying his tank as he filled hers.
Spent, Zeke pulled out. His cock drooped. Thick cream ran from her cunt down the crack of her ass and soaked the desk under her.
Candy's first mechanical task was well done.
She enjoyed her new job. It turned out that working did not limit fucking time what so ever.
The pump attendant was a young fellow with straw-colored hair and a lusty nature.
Watching him fill up a gas tank, Candy got hot again. The gasoline foamed from the nozzle just like a stream of cum from a cock. When Candy, giggling, mentioned that similarity to the young fellow, he got an instant hard-on.
Since she was responsible for that hard-on, Candy felt obligated to deal with it. She took him into the rest room and gave him a blowjob, and when he came, sure enough, his cream foamed from his knob just like gas from a nozzle.
She washed a Buick.
The mechanic, looking up from his labors under the hood of a Chevrolet, found that he could see her tit, in three-quarter view, packed inside the bib of her overalls.
He saw her pink nipple.
He was changing the spark plugs in the Chevrolet and his cock began to spark, itself. It got so big and hard that it got in his way, pressing against the grill of the car.
Candy noticed his condition. Far be it from her to disrupt a man at his work, but she saw that the poor fellow couldn't do his job while he was plagued by such a fascinating erection.
She jerked him off under the hood of the car. His cum sizzled when it fell onto the warm engine.
She washed a Cadillac.
Zeke came in and complimented her on how well she was doing. The Cadillac gleamed with a high gloss. Zeke gazed at the cum and shoe polish on her cheek, and his dick began to develop a high gloss, itself.
He said, "Miss Thompson, errr... when I rejected your kind offer of a blow-job this morning, it was only because I felt a need for pussy. I don't want you to think that my rejection implied that I don't like blow-jobs, as well."
Whereupon, they got into the back seat of the Cadillac and Candy proceeded to suck him off, polishing his knob to perfection.
She washed a Ford and a Lincoln.
By the end of the day, she was horny. She had not had an orgasm since fucking Zeke at the very start of the working clay, and in the meanwhile, she had given blow-jobs to Zeke and the gas pump attendant and a hand-job to the mechanic. It was natural that she should start to think about getting some pleasure for her pussy.
She hoped that Jack Turner would be available after work.
A man drove in to get his car washed. This would be her last job of the day. The man was handsome. His car was filled with luggage.
It was Boris Gribble, in the process of moving from his hotel into Candy's mother's house.
But Candy, of course, did not know Gribble, and she did not know where he was going.
Gribble watched her as she washed the car. She smiled at him. He thought about what he and Erma had talked about -- how nice it would be to have a threesome with a sexy girl.
He had no idea this was Erma's daughter. When she had finished and his car was gleaming, he asked how long she had to work.
"I'm done now," she said.
"Oh? Could I give you a lift home, perhaps?"
Candy looked at his pants. There was a pleasant bulge in his crotch, and she thought: Why not?
She said, "Gee, that would be swell. I'm pretty tired, I could use a ride. And a fuck," she added, grinning.
The pleasant bulge got larger.
Candy said, "I've been polishing dicks all day as well as cars. You know. Wash a Buick, suck a dick. So don't expect to get any head from me. But you can fuck me."
Gribble figured he had struck it lucky. He also figured that he had better get some pussy off this sexy mechanic before he suggested that they have a threesome with Erma. He wasn't sure that the girl would want to dabble in dyke endeavors and figured that, if she were offended, he might lose put on a piece of ass for his efforts.
Afterwards he could sound her out about a threesome. He hoped she would be agreeable. He figured it would be lots of fun to have this sexy girl in bed with sexy Erma.
Why, they even looked alike!
But he figured that was only a coincidence.
Chapter Eight
As Gribble drove her back to her apartment, Candy snuggled close to him in the front seat, stroking his thigh and, eventually, rubbing his prick through his pants. She blew hot breath into his ear. She cupped his balls and cooed with joy to find them bloated with spunk. She told him how hot her pussy was and how much she wanted his big dick.
Candy liked to excite men at all times and she found it thrilling to excite this handsome fellow while he was driving through traffic, unable to do anything but submit to her fondling and erotic talk.
She opened his fly and took his cock out. Holding the fat rod by the hilt, she shifted it around as if it were a gear shift, and by the time they had reached her street, she had shifted his sexual engine into overdrive.
She had to wedge it back into his trousers by brute force before he could leave the car.
In the elevator, grinning impishly, he took it out again.
Kneeling down, she began to give him some head, not trying to make him come but just keeping him smoldering.
When the elevator hissed to a halt and the doors opened, Gribble looked warily into the corridor and sighed with relief when he found it empty.
Candy kept his cock out. Holding it in her hand like a leash, she led him down to her apartment.
"You are a remarkable young lady," he said.
She reminded him of Erma by her hominess and brazen approach to sex with a stranger. He felt sure that Erma would adore to suck this sexy nymphette's sweet pussy, and he felt pretty sure that a girl like this would not object to having it sucked.
But he still kept quiet about that suggestion, just in case she was not as flagrantly lewd as it seemed.
In the apartment, she undressed him. His cock was still sticking out of his fly and she worked her way around it, pausing to give the tip a kiss now and again as she deftly removed his clothing.
Then she undressed herself, doing a sort of casual striptease for his titillation, turning gracefully, presenting ass and tits and thighs in an erotic sequence.
Gribble's cock was rampaging as he watched the oversexed nymph strip.
Naked, she reminded him even more of Erma. He hoped her pussy would be as talented.
Candy stretched out on the bed, spreading her thighs. She began to play with herself, fondling her creamy cunt with both hands while she gazed at Gribble with a wicked, lustful expression on her face.
He was enjoying this display. He didn't follow her to the bed immediately. But he didn't wait too long, either.
He didn't want her to come through her own caress -- fetching an orgasm from her loins was a pleasure that he wanted for himself. He moved towards her with his huge cock sizzling like a stick of dynamite.
She drew her hands away from her crotch. Gribble found that juicy slot so adorable that he thought he would have a taste of it before he fucked her. He figured it would be just as well to find out if she liked tongue. He slid up from the foot of the bed and began to lick her slit.
She liked it.
He tongued her pleasurably for a few moments, then moved up and slipped his cock into her.
Her slippery cunt gripped him firmly and began to pulsate and ripple up his rod.
She was gasping and whimpering and panting as he plowed the prick to her, and he figured this would be the ideal time to sound her out about a threesome.
Feeding her a long, slow stroke of cock, he said, "You like to have your pussy sucked, don't you?"
She looked at him as if he were mad.
He said, "Ever had a woman suck your cunt?"
"No," she said.
"The woman I live with wants to eat a girl out," he said, pushing deeply up her cunt.
"Ummm... that sounds like fun," said horny Candy.
"Shall we have a threesome later?"
"Mmm-hmm. I've never made love to a woman; it sounds lovely. I'll suck her, too."
That prospect inspired Gribble. He began to bang away with vigor.
His efforts inspired her, in turn, and she gyrated under him in an ecstasy of passion.
She began to come, whimpering with the thrill.
Gribble blew a geyser of hot cum up her hole as she creamed around his prick.
His cock stayed hard, and he left it in her cunt while they rested for a moment.
"Tonight?" she said.
"Hmmmm?"
"Shall we have the threesome tonight?"
"Yeah," he said.
Once again, the prospect was inspirational. His cock, still up her cunt, began to vibrate.
Gribble began to fuck her again.
As they slid together in the horizontal gavotte, they were both thinking about the threesome they were going to have.
But as it turned out they had a threesome sooner than they expected.
Jack Turner arrived.
Jack had been thinking about Candy all day, and by the time he finished work he was horny as a weasel.
Candy had told him to stop by her place whenever he liked, making it obvious that although they had no claims on each other, they had a fucking arrangement which would prove to be mutually satisfying.
Jack, sporting the bas relief of an enormous hard-on in his pants, knocked on the door.
He heard the bed creak.
"Who is it?" Candy called.
"It's me," he said. "Jack."
There was a pause, during which the bed shifted violently.
"Errr... if you're busy, I'll go away," he said, for the way that bed was creaking it seemed as if it were being used as a platform of passion.
Then Candy giggled.
"Come on in," she said.
Jack opened the door and stepped in. He found himself looting at a bucking ass.
Gribble looked over his shoulder sheepishly. Jack regarded the situation with equal embarrassment.
"Excuse me," he said, "I thought you told me to come in."
"I did," said naughty Candy.
She introduced the men.
Jack walked up to the bed and they shook hands, just as if they had been meeting in a drawing room instead of over her naked body.
Candy found the situation delightful. She opened Jack's fly and hauled his cock out.
Gribble was still stuck up her cunt, although he had stopped moving now.
She said, "Now, what shall we do with this surplus dick?"
Gribble said, "She's a remarkable girl."
"Yeah, I know," Jack agreed. "I know!" Candy cried.
She heaved up, turning. Gribble turned with her. His cock stayed jammed up her quim as, locked together, they rolled all the way over so that Candy was on top of him, sitting on hi rampant pecker. Jack stood beside the be with his cock looming out, waiting upon the girl's whim.
Jack's dick was not as large as Gribble's. It was large enough, but seen in comparison with Gribble's massive hunk, it seemed quite slender. Candy figured that a slender cock was just the thing to pry tip a tight hole.
She had decided to take it up the ass.
She ducked her head to the side and popped the knob into her mouth to lubricate it. She slurped. Saliva ran down the stalk and she pushed her lips down, sucking, giving him a few lingering head strokes until his dick was raging with lust.
Watching the girl suck cock while seated on his own dick caused Gribble to pant. He began to stir his cock around in her cunt, not thrusting in and out but moving it like a ladle inside her, as if whipping a bowl of cream.
She pulled her mouth off Jack's prick.
He stood there, uncertain of her intentions.
Candy didn't know of any delicate way to put it.
"Fuck me up the asshole," she said.
Delicate or not, it was effective.
Jack had never fucked a girl up the ass under any circumstances, let alone while her pussy was already occupied by another man's cock, and the thrill of the idea caused his dick to thunder.
He crawled onto the bed, kneeling behind her uptilted ass. He could see the root of Gribble's fat prick vanishing up her juicy slot and the man's hairy balls jammed between them.
He spread his hands over her ass and parted the cheeks.
Her taut brown bud looked very inviting.
His cock was soaked by her saliva, but her asshole didn't look lubricated enough to admit a fat dick. Holding her cheeks spread, he leaned down and ran his tongue up the crack of her ass.
She shivered deliciously.
He began to tongue her asshole thoroughly, working his tongue right up the tight hole.
She squirmed around on a cuntful of prick as Jack salivated over her shitter.
He was quite enjoying rimming out her ass and would have liked to linger over the pleasant act, but his cock was banging away like a jackhammer by this times.
He leaned back. His dick whacked her on the ass like a warclub. "Put it in," she whispered.
She was having trouble keeping her cunt still in Gribble's cock while she waited for Jack to occupy her nether hole.
Jack wrapped his fist around the base of his lick and fitted the knob into her asshole.
She arched, her lithe back rippling, and pushed her juicy ass back towards him.
The lad began to feed his dick up her ass.
It was a tight fit and he had to push hard while Candy pushed back against him, but then the head of his dick slipped in as her sphincter muscles relaxed. Her ass muscles clutched him, sweetly snug. He shoved in slowly, working his dick inch by inch up her hole. Candy was panting. The big head of his cock felt like an incandescent bull, as it slowly forged a passage into her bowels.
Then he gave a hard push and he was up her asshole to the very hilt, his balls jammed into her crotch from above.
"Ohhh, nice," she pared.
Nobody moved for a moment. Both men were waiting for Candy to begin, being solicitous towards this accommodating girl. Candy was enjoying the unique thrill of having both of her holes stuffed to the brim with cockmeat.
She began to move slowly.
She tensed her lush thighs, pulling her cunt slowly up Gribble's towering prick until she was perched on the tip. She settled back down onto the pole, taking his cockhead deep into her pussy. Then, with that dick buried, she moved her loins forwards so that her asshole dragged off Jack's cock to the crown. Pushing back, she took his full length up her ass again.
"Ooooh," she sighed, then: "Fuck me!"
The men moved to accommodate her.
Gribble began humping upwards from the bed, driving his mighty cock into her pussy forcefully.
Jack began to fuck in and out of her tight asshole with long, steady lunges.
Candy, unable to figure out how to fuci both dicks, held her nubile body steady and le them plow into her. Doubly thrilled, shi moaned with delight.
The two men could feel each of their cock rubbing together, separated only by the thin membrane between her holes. Jack pushed in as Gribble pulled out, and vice versa, so that their cocks passed, going in opposite directions, like two subway trains passing in a tunnel.
Alternating the rhythm, they both plowed up her at the same time, the double dickload filling her brimful of cock.
She began to roll her hips through a semi-circle, adding torque to the friction of their thrusts.
Faster and faster they put the prick to the girl, fairly shoveling hot meat into juicy slots. Their bloated balls bounced off each other in her crotch as their fiery shafts skimmed together up her loins.
She jammed down hard on Gribble's upright cock, and her asshole sucked on Jack's throbbing prick, and under the dual dicking she began to melt in ecstasy. Cuntjuice flooded mm her crotch, soaking Gribble's lurching belly and coating the double set of nuts with cream.
Both men were panting like stokers as they fueled her with load after load of hot cock. Their pricks steamed into the respective holes like locomotives.
Candy wanted their cum.
"Shoot in me!" she panted.
Gribble rammed up from the bed, his powerful body bridging. With his cock lifting and buried to the depths of her cunt, he blew a mighty spurt of spunk into her cunt. Jack felt Gribble come. The violent recoil his shot vibrated through Candy's loins, and his own dick registered the tremor like seismograph. He slammed the meat into he ass and his cock exploded, dousing her bowel with a thick jet.
Candy cried out joyfully as she felt her body fill from the hosing, and her cunt turned to cream as her own magic orgasm flooded forth to join them in a triple coming that left the three of them.
They kept pumping until both dicks were emptied and the terminal spurts had trickled weakly into her.
Candy smiled happily down at Gribble.
"Threesomes are fun," she said.
Cum was bubbling from her pussy and seeping out of her asshole. She wriggled free of the cocks and stretched out on the bed. The men lay on either side of her, and she took their dicks in her hands, fondling them.
"I'll bet foursomes are even better," said the randy sexpot.
Chapter Nine
"Boris has a girlfriend who wants to eat pussy," Candy told Jack, grinning devilishly. Jack's dick twitched in her hand. "I told him she could eat me," she said. She knew how inspirational words could be. Both cocks were tensing again, despite their recent drainage.
"I'd like to suck cunt, too," she went on. "Would you guys like to watch us eat each other?"
Jack nodded; Gribble grinned.
Candy said, "Why don't you go get your girlfriend now, Boris? Jack and I will wait here, and when you get back we can have all, kinds of fun."
Gribble thought that was a fine idea. He figured that Erma would be pleased, as well, at having not only a cunt to gobble but a spare dick, as well.
He got dressed, having, some difficulty getting his cock to enter his pants, and went off to fetch Erma.
Candy and Jack waited, fooling around a bit, not working towards a climax but merely keeping each other hot and ready for the return of Gribble and his cunt-hungry girlfriend.
Jack said, "I didn't know you sucked cunt."
"I never have," Candy admitted. "But it sounds like ever so much fun. And the best part is that it's with a total stranger. I'd be too embarrassed to suck a girl I knew. That's probably why I've never done it before. Bu you don't have to be embarrassed with a stranger, so you can do anything."
Jack agreed it was nice to do it with strangers. He was slowly pushing three fingers in and out of her cunt as she was stroking his pecker up and down.
"I got the job at the garage," she said.
"I'm surprised at that."
She giggled.
"I fucked the boss," she said.
Jack's cock began to thump.
"I blew him, too," she said, pleased at the reaction that her confession brought out of his dick.
"In fact, I did all sorts of naughty things at the garage. I jerked the mechanic off. He shot all over the motor of a Chevrolet. And I took the young man who pumps gas into the rest room and gave him some head. All in all, I've drunk an awful lot of cum today. But I'm still hungry for some cuntjuice."
Her words worked better than she had intended. Jack's cock began to thunder urgently.
"Hadn't we better wait for Boris and his friend?" she asked when she noticed the state of his dick.
"I suppose you could fuck me while we wait," she said. "But I don't want to come again. I want to save my cuntjuice for Boris' girlfriend." She smiled happily as his prick surged in her hand. She said, "Why don't you fuck my mouth a little bit?"
Despite her admission that she'd had a bellyful of spunk already that day, randy Candy was not adverse to doing a bit more gobbling on a fuckstick.
Nor was Jack adverse to being the suckee.
He knelt, straddling her, his ass sliding over her fat tits and his hard prick thrusting into her face.
Candy piled the pillows up behind her head so that she was in a comfortable position for getting face-fucked.
Jack fed his dick into her mouth.
She sucked lovingly and lazily, not using her hands but merely letting him fuck into her face, and he did that slowly, not urgently pumping towards an orgasm but simply enjoying the thrill of sliding in and out of her hot, hungry maw.
It was a very pleasant position in which to wait for the return of Boris Gribble and his girlfriend -- that total stranger.
"You were gone a long time, honey," Erma complained when Gribble came into the house. "I almost fucked myself with my dildo while I waited."
Gribble said, "I've got good news for you, Erma. I found a sexy young girl who wants to get sucked off."
Erma's hot eyes gleamed.
"Did you fuck her?"
"I'm afraid so. But only to get her in the mood for your tongue, of course."
Erma scowled, half-jealous but also delighted that her new lover had so efficiently arranged a threesome. She had, while Gribble was gone, been thinking about what joy it would be to suck her first cunt. It was a thing that had always seemed appealing to the horny divorcee, but she had not had a chance to try it. Now, with the prospect definite, her mouth began to water.
She was literally hungry for pussy.
"And I've got more good news," he said.
She raised her eyebrows.
"This girl has a handsome young boyfriend."
"OOOOOOh!"
"He fucked her up the ass while she squatted on my prick... and he's still at her house, waiting."
"Ohhh... can I fuck him?"
"Mmm-hmm."
"Can I suck him, too?"
"Certainly."
Erma figured she had made a wise choice when she'd allowed. Boris to move in with her.
He said, "But first you have to suck the girl, okay?"
Erma licked her lips. That was exactly what she intended, for she had sucked plenty of cock in her life -- and fucked even more -- but she had yet to know the joy of eating a cunt.
And now there was a sexy young stranger waiting for her tongue.
In the car, Gribble said, "I picked this girl up at the gas station. While I was driving her home the brazen little minx took my dick out and played with it."
Erma, not to be outdone, took his dick out and began to pump it up and down.
"And in the elevator, she took it out again and gave me a nice sucking."
Erma gracefully swooped down and slurped his prick into her greedy mouth.
They were both very hot by the time he parked the car in front of Candy's apartment.
"I hired a gardener to trim the hedge today," Catherine Washburn told Zeke when he got home.
"Oh? It doesn't look any trimmer."
She smiled secretively.
He said, "I didn't hire a mechanic."
Catherine frowned. She had been hoping he would hire a young mechanic with a cock like a monkey wrench.
"But I hired a girl to wash cars," he said.
And now he smiled secretly.
And that evening, for the first time in a month, Zeke did not plead with his wife to give him some pussy.
She figured that the handjob she'd given him that morning must have done the job.
And Zeke was eager for morning to come so that he could get the job done once more by his wonderfully skilled car-washer cum dick-polisher... who was, at the moment, polishing Jack's dick very enjoyably.
He was kneeling over her, fucking into her mouth with leisurely strokes. Gazing down, he watched his big prick vanish into her face, emerging wet with saliva, only to push back into that greedy mouth.
Her lips were averted as she slurped up and down on the rod and her cheeks were hollowed in as she sucked. She was taking his cockhead right back into her throat so that her mouth came all the way down his stalk.
He moved very slowly so that it took several seconds to complete each stroke from root to knob, for he was in no hurry to come. In fact, he didn't want to come yet, for he wanted to still be horny when Gribble and his girlfriend got there.
"Unghh," she said as his formidable cockhead stuck fast in her gullet, then: "Ahhhh," as she slurped back up to the knob, enjoying the hot, hard meat.
Her tongue slipped around against the ventral shaft, her tastebuds tingling with the succulent flavor of cock.
They both heard the door open.
Jack slowed his strokes, but by now Candy was lost to the joys of gobbling dick. She sucked heartily on his big cock.
"Don't stop," she whimpered, mouthing the words down his prick as if it were a speaking tube.
Jack began to feed dick to her hungry face again. He turned his head and looked back over his shoulder.
Gribble and Erma stood by the door.
Jack winked at Gribble.
He didn't know Erma, of course, but he could see that she was a pretty woman who, judging from the gleam in her eye, was quite eager to join them on the bed.
He said, "I was just fucking her in the head a bit while we waited for you."
Now he saw that he wouldn't have much longer to wait, for the newcomers were already starting to tear their clothes off.
Recognition had not yet come.
From the doorway, it was not possible to see Candy's cock-stuffed face, for Jack was straddling her and his body blocked her out above the tits.
It was quite possible, however, to see her pussy.
Her legs were spread wide and that creamy blonde gash was in full view. The pink cuntlips were unfurled like the petals of a fleshy flower, frothed with cuntjuice, and a trickle of cream had seeped down into the crack of her ass. "Oh, nice," Erma whispered.
She was gazing in fascination at that succulent cunt and her tongue slipped back and forth across her lower lip. Her face was a mask of passion. She was thinking that the blonde pussy on the bed looked every bit as tasty as her daughter's dildo-fucking cunt had on the day of their confrontation.
She had even been tempted to dip her tongue into Candy's hot cunt on that occasion, although she had resisted the impulse on the principle that a woman couldn't very well give head to her own daughter.
But this girl was a total stranger, and Erma had no qualms about, gobbling that sweet quim.
She removed her clothing.
Gribble, undressing with equal haste, revealed a booming hard-on standing before his belly.
"Look good?" he inquired.
"She looks delicious," Erma whispered.
"Go ahead and have a taste."
"Do you think she'll mind? She's quite busy at the moment, it would appear."
She was watching Jack's ass pull his dick out, and although Erma couldn't see the linkage, there could be no doubt from what he was pulling it.
"Her pussy isn't busy," Gribble said. "And it looks as if it would like to be, the way it's creaming."
Erma needed no further encouragement. She moved to the foot of the bed and crawled between the occupied girl's widely spread thighs.
Having never sucked a cunt before -- despite her enthusiasm for doing just that -- Erma hesitated. She was savoring the thrill of the expectation. Her mouth was drooling.
Bending down, she started licking the insides of Candy's lush thighs her tongue coiling up the satin smooth flesh towards the succulent feast at the vee.
Candy began to squirm and her cuntlips fluttered. The oval slot filled with thick fuck-juice.
Erma tongued up the creases where thighs joined with torso, still avoiding any contact with the girl's cunt, tasting her flesh as an appetizer before she began to drink the main course.
Gribble sat beside her, a keen observer.
Jack continued to steadily feed his pecker into the girl's eager mouth as he listened to the moist slurpings behind his corkscrewing ass.
Bypassing her crotch, Erma licked up Candy's belly. She flicked a finger up the girl's cunt, then pushed it slowly up her hole and began to finger-fuck her while she laved her belly. That brought her face up behind Jack's ass and, grinning passionately, she paused to tongue his asshole for a moment.
Then she started licking back down towards Candy's crotch once again, the preliminaries completed and the feast prepared.
Erma spread Candy's pussy wide open with her fingertips. She ran her tongue up the creamy gash with a long initial slurp, and as she realized how truly delightful it was to lick a cunt, she whimpered with pleasure.
Although this was her first gobble on a cunt, she saw, that no practice was necessary, that cunt sucking was a talent that every woman was born with.
Fitting her lips to the sweet cunt, she began to suck with gusto while her tongue slid in and out of the hot hole. Cuntjuice flowed onto her tongue and back into her mouth. She gulped it down, finding it every bit as tasty as cum, and served from a more delicate goblet.
Candy, already hot as hell from sucking on that mouthful of cock, began to pant and squirm as she rose toward an orgasm.
Jack trembled and started feeding the prick to her face with more effort, humping into her mouth rapidly now.
Candy creamed on Erma's mouth.
Jack poured his cum into Candy's mouth, hosing her with a hot jet of cream.
Candy sucked merrily away until she had drained his dick, then popping her lips free, she wailed, "I want to suck cunt, too!"
Erma thought that was a mighty fine idea. But she was also having such a wonderful drink from the girl's crotch that she didn't want to break off that vital connection. She began to rotate around her buried head, her ass and hips crawling up the bed in a turning a half-circle, describing an arc around Candy's crotch.
Her head never came up from its position so that Candy, gazing down, saw only blonde hair -- the top of a stranger's head. Then the woman's haunches came up to block even that view.
Jack moved out of the way. His cock had started to droop now, hanging down his thigh, and he had no objection to giving up his position astride Candy.
Erma threw one knee across the girl and straddled her. Never for a split second during this reversal of her position had she lifted her head.
Her mouth was stuck to Candy's cunt like a limpet to coral, sucking steadily, so that although Candy had already come, she was being aroused all over again as, in this new position, the two oversexed women prepared to sixty-nine.
Erma's lush haunches hovered over Candy's upturned face, her meaty ass humping and her crotch throbbing. Candy stared up at that juicy cunt in fascination as she anticipated her first faceful of cunt. Erma's cuntlips had unfurled. The pink layers were streaked with cuntjuice and the darker flesh of her cunthole was filled with the nectar of lust. Her clit stood out like a bullet, rigid and tingling.
Candy licked her lips in anticipation.
She had never had such a close-up view of a sexually aroused pussy, and she was intrigued by the intricacies of the fuckbox -- and eager to feast upon it, for it looked tasty, indeed.
She parted her lips, her head tilted back like a baby bird waiting to be fed -- by the mother bird, as it were, but Candy did not know the absolute truth of that.
Candy reached up and grasped the woman by the hips holding her pelvis as if it were a goblet.
Erma slowly lowered her crotch.
Candy's tongue shot out to meet that descending confection. Murmuring happily, she licked the stiff clit.
Erma shivered at the pleasure.
Candy ran her hot tongue along the crack and across the love bud again.
Erma moaned.
Candy's initial tongue strokes were tentative and exploratory but, like Erma before her, she soon realized that cuntsucking was a skill that needed little practice. Possessed of a cunt, herself, and knowing just how she liked her own cunt to be sucked, Candy was confident that she would be able to plate this juicy treat with expertise.
She pushed her tongue up the hole.
Fitting her lips to the labia, she began to suck with relish, gasping as her mouth was instantly filled with hot cunt juice. Erma's clit exploded in Candy's lips, and her cunt sucked as if trying to drag the girl's head right up inside her loins.
Both women, locked together in the position of inverted lust, went suck-crazy.
Erma, on top, was wallowing like a playful porpoise in Candy's crotch, her head ducking and diving merrily while her ass squirmed and humped over the girl's face.
Candy was arched off the bed, her supple back bridged as she molded her torso to the older woman, giving and getting head with an enjoyment that was equal at either end.
Like some exotic two-headed beast, the writhed together in total abandonment to their passion.
Gribble and Jack were interested observers. Jack had temporarily spent his liquid lust so that; although he was fascinated by the spectacle of two sexy women eating each other out he felt no urgency to join in. But Gribble was randy as a rooster. He had been hot as hell even before this pussy gobbling began and now, looking and listening, he found his cock pulsing with energy.
He was moving from place to place, looking at both ends of the distaff linkage alternately!
He watched Candy's pink tongue slide along Erma's creamy cunt. He watched Erma's parted lips slurp gaily away on Candy's simmering cunt. He heard the moist sounds of their sucking and the gasps and moans of their lust.
Gribble had to get some hot cunt around his prick.
Candy's sweet pussy was inaccessible as she lay on her back with Erma's head clamped in her crotch, but Erma's cunt was heaving up as her ass swayed and rolled.
Gribble knelt behind Erma's ass. Candy, anticipating his intention, nodded enthusiastically. Her eyes smoldered as she saw Gribble's huge prick looming above her face.
Gribble wrapped his fist around his big cock and placed the snout into Erma's pussy.
He shoved the full length up her hole -- hard -- his belly slapping against the woman's upthrust ass and his swollen nut-sac swinging into Candy's engaged face.
Candy paused in her cuntsucking for a moment while she licked Gribble's hot balls.
Gribble began to pour the prick into Erma's cunt doggy fashion, pumping spasmodically.
Erma's cuntlips dragged juicily at his fat cock, clutching the rod.
Candy began to mouth them both at the same time. She opened her mouth wide and clamped it to Erma's crotch so that Gribble's dick was passing through her lips as it ran in and out of Erma's hot, creamy cunt.
The oversexed nymphette was overjoyed, at being able to suck cock and cunt simultaneously, while having her own hot pussy tongued at the other end.
Gribble pulled out so that only the tip of his peckerhead remained in Erma's cunt.
Candy tongued his knob furiously and hungrily.
Then he shoved his dong all the way up that smoldering hole, and Candy sucked on his shaft as it slid through her lips, then sucked greedily on Erma's cock-stuffed pussy.
Moaning, Gribble blew his cum up Erma's cunt.
The fuckjuice came bubbling out as his great plunger pumped in, the hot, thick cream pouring into Candy's eager face. Candy gulped the cum down as it overflowed, voraciously swallowing yet another load of cock-milk on this memorably gluttonous day.
Gribble's spunk acted like a catalyst in her belly. She began to come again, herself.
Erma gobbled Candy's pussyjuice up merrily, and her cunt creamed in turn, so that both girls were drinking cuntjuice and expelling cuntjuice at the same time, as if it were the same cuntjuice that was running through the linked circuit of their bodies in a contained current. They fed each other and they fed themselves, and together, they trembled through a violent, bone-shaking orgasm.
Gribble, spent for the moment, moved aside.
He and Jack winked at each other as they watched the two blondes pump away, working off the final spasms of their shared climax.
Gasping, the girls rolled apart.
Their eyes were closed; contented smiles manifested their mutual pleasure and satiation.
"Oh, I'm so glad you met these lovely strangers," Erma said to Gribble.
"Doing it with strangers is ever so much fun," Candy agreed.
Then the two women opened their eyes at the same time, with the desire to see what the other looked like, thinking it remarkable that they had sucked each other off before they had even seen each other's faces, let alone been introduced.
Erma and Candy looked at each other. And were they surprised.
