Sunlight sparkled on the restless ocean waves. Gulls screeched arid cawed, soaring over the narrow strip of rocky beach. Off shore, a gliding pelican tucked its wings and dropped from the clear blue sky like a bomb, It plunged deep into the water and caught a fish in its long beak.
Liz Randolph stood on the windswept shore, tall and serene. She was twenty-two, a first-year high school science teacher just starting her summer vacation. She was putting on a skindiver's wet suit, a figure-hugging layer of foam rubber that would insulate her from the chilling cold water off California's north coast.
The snug, sky-blue suit was custom made to fit her lithe body like a second skin -- long, shapely legs, a slender waist, flaring hips and a trim, supple ass she packed tight as sausage in a tube.
She closed the zipper-front of the tight suit and snugged molded cups of clinging rubber over her jutting, sharp-peaked tits. Liz then reached back to gather her silky long hair.
Smooth waves dark brown and shimmering soft as mink streamed down to the small of her back. She wrapped the glorious cascade of hair around her head, then pulled on a tight fitting hood that left only the classic features of her striking face exposed.
Eyes clear blue and sparkling bright as jewels set off her sculptured features. She looked more like a fashion model than a high school science teacher. That was sometimes a problem in class. Teenaged boys could hardly keep their anxious cocks under control when she walked into the room.
She grinned, cinching a heavy lead weight belt around her slender waist, remembering how it was to lecture before a class of throbbing stiff cocks and seethingly envious young girls who couldn't begin to match their teacher's stunning good looks and subtle sex appeal.
Strangely, there was no man in her life. Liz Randolph's regal beauty made her seem unapproachable. Men stared longingly, some even drooled, but few had the courage to speak -- to ask for a date or anything else.
Lis was twenty-two years old and still a virgin. No man had even kissed her with the passion she was so anxious for. Her stately poise and distant look of cool reserve made the few polished gentlemen she had gone out with act almost reverently, like pilgrims worshipping at some holy shrine.
What she really wanted was a rugged man with balls enough to throw her down and rip her clothes, to kiss with his tongue thrusting and fondle her heaving warm breasts... then spread her elegant legs and ram an aching hard cock into her: Liz had read the scene a hundred times in romantic novels, the lusty kind that some call "bodice rippers." The hero was always handsome, usually a daring adventurer or a devilish rogue. The heroines were all innocent beauties, shy and fearful even when madly in love.
She was a lot like the girls in those stories... except that Liz had not met a man daring or devilish enough to excite her, and she had never fallen madly in love. The stunning young teacher had to satisfy herself with fantasy love affairs and a middle finger that twirled expertly around her simmering clit bud.
Her slithering finger teased up a flood of sleek, musk scented honey when she worked it between the slender, softly puffed lips of her virgin cunt slit. Nights alone in her bed, Liz could stimulate herself to one grinding climax after another.
But solitary orgasms that sparked from the tip of a wiggling finger always left her with a fierce yearning that she lacked the courage to satisfy. Her craving for love and lust was mixed with a fearful shyness that always held her back.
Liz sighed, seating herself on a driftwood log to put on her frog-like swim fins. Then she strapped on her diving mask and snorkel, starting to look like an odd creature from outer space.
She was an expert swimmer and skindiver. Liz could descend sixty feet just holding her breath and stay down over two minutes. That was another problem. She met some great looking guys on the beach, but never one who could keep up with her in the water. Being out-done by a woman turned them cold, and she wasn't the kind who could hold back her best effort... not for anyone.
So that day she was diving alone -- not a wise idea even for an expert. But she had no choice. Liz had no male friends, and few women wanted to be seen with her. Even those with looks that would harden a man's cock a hundred yards away started feeling drab when Liz flashed that shy, haunting smile of hers.
A wave curled and crashed on the rocky shore, rolling into a swirl of white foam. Liz waded into the water, pushing an inner tube with a gunny sack tied open inside the hole. That was her "catch bag." In a short time, she expected it to be heavy with a limit of abalone, a delicious shellfish that clings to undersea rocks like a suction cup.
Liz swam along the surface, face-down and breathing through her snorkel, gazing at the colorful life forms on the ocean floor. Anemone that looked like flowers with wavering tentacles instead of petals. Sea urchins that looked like purple pin cushions bristling with sharp spines. And starfish with crusty arms long enough to cover a dinner plate.
Fish swam among the rocky crags in forests of kelp -- seaweed that was really drag brown, but iridescent and shimmering like a purple haze under the sea. Liz loved the ocean and all its creatures, even the menacing moray eels she saw now and then.
They were long as her arm and thick as a fire hose, gifted with needle-sharp teeth set in a slanted jaw that made them seem to be leering. Liz saw one looking out of a rocky crevice and angled around so as not to come near.
The water off Cape Mendocino was cold and exceptionally clear that day. She could see sixty or eighty feet down. Ahead on the hazy fringe of her vision, Liz saw a leopard shark four feet long -- not a particularly dangerous type like the Mako or Great White, but no shark can be trusted completely. Liz swam in a wide arch to give it plenty of room, holding her speargun ready just in case.
The barbed spear powered by finger-thick rubber bands wasn't needed. The spotted shark was equally anxious to avoid her. It swam off into the gloom with a languid swish of its sharp tail.
A hundred yards off shore she swam over a broad table of craggy rock cut by deep, narrow crevices. A perfect place to look for abalone. Liz put the speargun in her catch bag and untied a broad, flat bar like a tire iron from the tube. She would use that to pry the clinging abalone off the rocks.
She sucked a breath through the snorkel and piked her lithe body to dive, slipping beneath the surface so smoothly that she left hardly a ripple.
Underwater she swam like a dolphin, undulating her whole body length, both long legs held together and working as one. Thirty feet down, the pressure made her ears hurt. She tensed her chest as though to exhale and compressed the air inside her skull to match the water pressure.
Silent as a shadow, she swam to the bottom, into a narrow cleft. She swam a few feet off the sandy ocean floor, scanning craggy rock walls on both sides. After thirty seconds, Liz saw what she was looking for -- an abalone at least ten inches across.
The shell looked like an oval soup bowl turned upside down, rimmed near one edge with a row of holes. She jabbed the broad tip of her iron under the abalone's muscular suction cup flesh and pried up, popping it off the rock.
She caught it in the other hand and arched her back, kicking with willowy long legs held together as she rose toward the surface. Sunlight sparkled on wind ripples and made the surface look like a tin roof forty or so feet above.
Lips sealed around the mouthpiece of her snorkee curved into a grin. She'd taken one nice ab on her first dive and seen several more. Liz would have her limit in no time, and a gourmet lunch to cook on the shore.
Then suddenly she jarred to a stop. She kicked harder and rose a little, but then was pulled back as though by a giant invisible hand. She felt a shiver of chilling fear. What could be holding her? Liz saw nothing, but she could not free herself from the unseen force.
Twisting, she tried to swim away to the left, but she was yanked to a stop and pulled back again. She tried going to the right and that didn't work either.
Fear swelled in her chest like a ball of fire. She had been down about a minute and a half. That left thirty seconds to free herself from what seemed like an invisible net. She dropped the abalone and her iron, pawing with both gloved hands to find whatever it was holding her forty feet down.
She found it quickly enough -- a tangle of monofilament fishing line. It was heavy stuff, much too strong to break. And then with a feverish flare of panic, Liz remembered that her diving knife was still on shore. Thinking about her frustrated love life made her careless. She'd forgotten to strap on the knife, and now she was snarled in a web of barely visible strands from which there seemed to be no escape.
Coils were tangled around her neck and legs. Thrashing to free herself, she only succeeded in tangling her right arm as well. Restless currents swayed the invisible net back and forth, wrapping it tighter and tighter.
Liz felt her lungs start to ache and burn as her body used up the oxygen in that one precious breath. She exhaled a little of the stale air to relieve the strain and watched a silvery stream of bubbles rise toward the surface that might as well have been forty miles away.
She started to feel faint. Her vision blurred. The chilling fear and fiery pain in her chest both faded into an eerie bliss. Liz thought, "I'm going to die," but was so dazed that did not really concern her.
Her lithe body went limp, arms dangling, legs without strength. She only moved when swayed by the restless current. "In a second or two I'll have to take a breath," she was thinking. "I'll suck cold sea water into my lungs and that will be it. I'll be dead!"
Then her head jerked with a last flare of consciousness. She heaved a sad moan and spit out the mouthpiece of her snorkel. Liz felt herself laughing sadly inside. "My God," her mind cried. "I'm going to die a virgin! I'll go to heaven with my cherry still sealed."
Her glazed, misty blue eyes clamped shut, and just as she had heard would happen, her whole life flashed before her as though on a movie screen inside her skull.
Liz saw her parents. They divorced when she was only three years old and she had only seen her father twice in all the years since. That made him still a young man in her memory, strong and daring as any of the heroes in romantic novels she read. He was a geologist who explored the world looking for oil.
She wished now there had been time to know him better. Her only visions of him were waving good-bye. Because Liz had lived with her mother all through school, she looked older in memory, but still a beautiful woman with a lush figure.
Her mother was not at all shy like Liz. Men flocked after her. She never remarried, but had one affair after another. When Liz was young, she called the men that stayed in their house for a few days or few weeks at most "Uncle." There was Uncle Jack, Uncle Bob, Uncle Frank and Uncle Pete -- more uncles than she could remember.
When Liz grew older and began to ripen as a stunning woman, some of her uncles made passes at her. Half a dozen men who slept with her mother wanted to make it with the daughter as well.
They playfully patted her tight little ass and "accidentally" brushed her blossoming sharp-peaked tits. One even whipped out his cock when her mother wasn't home -- eight inches of pulsing, vein-ridged male flesh swollen so hard with lusty blood that the bulbous head of it seemed to glow red.
Dazed and breathless, Liz remembered what he said. "Your Mommie likes it, sweetheart... and so will you." He wanted her to suck it before he stuck it in. She gagged at the thought, but wished now she'd been more daring. She wouldn't have died a timid virgin... unknowing and untried.
Liz was fast losing consciousness, lost in a hazy dream world of memory, still viewing scenes from her past life, realizing how dull and uneventful it had all been. The faces of men she might have made love with flashed before her eyes -- one that she couldn't remember.
He was blonde and broad shouldered. A stray lock of hair stuck out from the hood of his wet suit. Someone she met diving? A great-looking guy with jade green eyes. A ruggedly handsome face tanned like bronze.
His lips curved into a smile, venting silver bubbles when he took the mouthpiece from his scuba tank out of his mouth. Just as her lips parted to breathe in the sea, he pushed the rubber bit into her mouth.
"Huuungh!" Liz exhaled sharply to blow out water that filled the hose. Then she drew a deep, thankful breath. Air from the silver tank on his back tasted cold and metallic, but so wonderfully fresh at the same time.
This wasn't a face from her past. He was with her in the here and now, another diver sharing the mouthpiece and hose to let her breathe life-giving air. "I'm going to live!" she wanted to scream. "I'm going to live!"
He was able to hold his breath as long or longer than she could. At least two minutes passed before she thought to give back the hose so he could breathe. All that time she was breathing in deep, rasping gulps. He looked at her fondly, flashing a warm grin that made her heart race as it had when she first became tangled in fishing line snagged on the bottom.
After one breath, he passed back the mouthpiece and drew a sharp knife from a sheath strapped low on his right leg. He began cutting the almost invisible tangle. Liz felt herself pull free and rise slowly.
He swam toward the surface, facing her and staying close so she could catch another breath along the way. They broke the surface and both pushed their masks up on their foreheads, breathing fresh sea air not compressed in a steel tank.
"Thank God!" she gasped.
"No," he said in a rumbling deep voice. "Thank me and my scuba tank. I think the Lord would have let you drown." She gasped, "Yes, it looked that way," Liz said. Her throat still felt parched and dry from the burning heat that came with lack of breath. "Thank you!"
Her shyness and air of distant reserve vanished in a warm glow of boundless gratitude. Liz twined her arms around his neck and kissed him full on the lips with all the smoldering passion she'd held back for so long.
"Oooh, baby!" he moaned, hugging her around the waist. Then they kissed again, treading water and behaving like a pair of love-sick seals. His gloved hands inched up and gently fondled her breasts.
One touch sent fiery shocks of pleasure rippling down her spine, even though his gloves and her wet suit put half an inch of foam rubber between them.
Liz slid her hands down and hugged him around the waist, pressing the sleek, soft rise of her pussy mound anxiously against his groin. She felt something surge and start to swell hard inside his wet suit. "Hhhooo!" she gasped anxiously, pressing and writhing her body with his.
Her brush with death unleashed passion like the shy school teacher had never felt before. She pumped and swivelled her hips, forgetting to work her feet when his cock strained hard and pressed against the quivering slit of her cunt.
They slipped beneath the surface still locked in a clinging embrace. Their tongues thrust back and forth. He sucked on hers and she sucked on his, neither much aware of how deep they'd sunk.
When their lips parted reluctantly, he gave her the bubbling mouthpiece. While she took a deep breath, he pulled off his gloves and eased down the zippered front of her tight fitting suit.
Liz felt a shivering chill as cold sea water swirled around her warm breasts. He cupped and kneaded them with strong hands, making her heart race more wildly than before.
Mindless of the cold sea, she stripped off her gloves and tugged at the long zipper pull beneath his chin. She slid it all the way down to his crotch and reached in.
He wore a bathing suit under the warming foam layer. She held him around the waist with one hand and slipped the other inside his swim suit without thinking.
She gripped his cock and felt it throb despite the icy water that surrounded them. He gave a gurgling moan of joy that rose as a stream of shimmering bubbles. Liz fondled his hardened cock, a thick rod of flesh over nine inches long.
Feeling its hammering pulse made her fingers tingle and her pussy squirm. He grinned and pressed close while she played with his dong, satisfying a curiosity she'd held in check for so many lonely years.
He had to release his grip, on one thrusting tit to take back the scuba mouthpiece and breathe. Liz held her breath and saw herself as a mermaid, a lusty free spirit born under the sea. He loosened her weight belt and let it drop, then pulled the zipper of her wet suit further down.
Liz wore a string bikini under her wet suit. He deftly untied the knots and pulled it out of the way. Her dark, narrow wedge of mink-brown cunt hair shimmered in the flickering glow of light that filtered forty feet down.
A strange thought rambled through her mind. "My God, I'm holding a man's naked cock in my hand, and I don't even know his name."
But she remembered the lecherous "uncle" who flashed his cock and begged her to kiss it. Liz pushed herself deeper until she was at eye-level with his huge dick. With her mask still up on her forehead, she could not see too clearly. Maybe that eased her fears. She pressed forward and kissed his swollen cockhead, swiping her tongue all around the soft fleshy ridge and down the steely hard shaft beyond.
He pumped his hips and pushed salty wet cock clear to the soft back of her mouth. Liz gulped and felt her throat clench, but she tipped her head back and willed the narrow tunnel of moist flesh to relax.
His meaty cock plugged her tight throat completely. She could feel its lusty pulse and spreading warmth go deep. Even in her romantic fantasies, Liz never imagined herself sucking a man's cock, rocking and swaying her head, nibbling her soft lips all the way to his root.
Easing back, she licked and teased with a flicking tongue. Then she lunged forward, sucking with such frenzy that her cheeks collapsed all around his hard shaft. She rippled her throat and heard delighted grunting noises above her head.
The ruggedly handsome stranger that saved her life clamped both hands back of her head and fucked his cock into her face, loving the sleek, lively tunnel of love that pulled on his plunging dick like a suction pump.
He stiffened suddenly, grunting and moaning wet sounds of pleasure distorted the ocean water all around. They were weightless in the underwater world, hanging suspended without effort while his balls steamed and churned to erupt silver-white liquid fire.
"Hungh!" he groaned, pressing her lips to his hairy dick root. Liz gulped, never having thought this would happen -- that he would cum in her mouth. But sticky, slithering cum spat from the head of his cock and sprayed the walls of her throat.
"Glungh," she said, swallowing instinctively. There were no taste buds in the depths of her throat, so she was only aware of the slippery heat slowly sliding down.
Then he arched back and fired a creamy hot blast into her mouth. It made her cheeks puff, sliding over her tongue and rising like the tide around her back teeth. "Hungh," she said gulping again.
This time she could really taste the slimy, salt-sweet stuff he fired into her, one searing hot spurt after another. Liz kept sucking and swaying her head, draining his cock with grateful gulps of lewd delight.
After the first taste of creamy thick cum, she decided the taste was not bad at all. It reminded her of eating raw oysters-liquid raw oysters.
Then he drew his drained cock from her mouth and cupped her tits again, raising her to his eye level. They each caught a breath from the tank on his back and he circled an arm around her slender waist.
Reaching down with the other hand, he worked the head of his cock on her clit bud, teasing and twirling until she wanted to scream in wild rapture. Her anxious virgin pussy pulsed and simmered heat.
She gasped a watery sound, part nervous fear and part raging desire. He pressed her close, arched his back and pushed his cock into her puckered virgin pussy.
CHAPTER TWO
Liz felt a sharp stab of hot pain. His grunting thrust ripped through her cherry, splitting the tender seal of flesh she had cherished for so long.
She gasped and her parted lips streamed bubbles that rose to the surface almost forty feet above their heads. He was in her all the way, smiling and kneading her left tit with one hand. The other arm circled her waist, steadying her as he humped his cock in and out.
Being a science teacher, Liz was amazed that he could maintain an erection in water that cold. Though a virgin until just a moment before, she did have clinical knowledge of human sex organs and their function. In contrast to the chilling sea, his massive cock felt like a red hot iron sliding in and out.
Painful friction mauled and strained her shivering pussy lips. The water kept washing away her sultry sex juices as they simmered up from the depths of her clinging tight cunt. But he bored into her anyway, driving hard and deep with lingering thrusts so that his stiff cock escaped the bitter cold all it could.
His cock turned cold in just the short time it was exposed, drawn back to thrust again. It felt like an icicle entering her, but heat returned quickly in the grip of her cunt. To Liz it was contrast like fire and ice.
She hugged him around the back, swaying upright beneath the sea, hanging weightless in rapture, so thrilled by the heat of his big cock that she almost forgot to breathe.
It wasn't the most comfortable or convenient way to make love, but the eerie thrill of having sex the first time underwater with a stranger made Liz feel giddy with girlish delight.
He fucked hard and fast, pausing only when they had to pass the mouthpiece and airhose back and forth to catch a breath. Liz found that to be a tantalizing kind of intimacy, and all the time she could feel his cock throbbing hard inside her slithery cunt.
Each thrust raked the ridge of flesh just back of his cockhead across the split in her cherry. Traces of blood from that tingling wound were carried to the lips of her twat by the rush of fuck honey he whipped up in her cunt.
Blood looks black underwater. It swirled around her pussy slit, not rising, not sinking -- just there. Liz closed her eyes and moaned, clutching him desperately, feeling her cunt clench and squirm to delight his hard-driving cock.
Romantic visions flashed through her mind just as her life had passed before her when she expected to drown. Liz could hardly believe she'd been so impulsive, sucking the cock of a man she didn't know, now letting him fuck her cherry away.
But having almost died as a virgin, she felt no guilt for giving in. This handsome stranger, who-ever he was, had saved her life. She'd be dead without him, and not have to think about moral issues.
They clutched and groped, fucking like a wild pair of wantons under the sea. Primed by all the romantic novels she had read, Liz felt herself falling madly in love. Their plot was a bit off... sucking and fucking before they were even introduced, but in the thrill of the moment that seemed a small matter.
His muscular body excited her almost as much as his cock. Liz moaned and ran her hands all over his back. He clamped his hands on her rubber-sheathed ass cheeks, digging his fingers into taut flesh, yanking her back and forth while his dick pumped.
Frenzied passion was fast using up the air in his scuba tank. It was meant to serve one person breathing normally, not two so crazed with lust that their heart rate and respiration was doubled.
It was getting hard to suck air from the life-giving hose. Liz felt a slight twinge of fear, recalling the stark terror of being trapped in the tangle of fishing line, but rampant desire overpowered more practical concerns.
She wanted desperately to enthrall this man who'd saved her life and taken her cherry. Her pussy rippled and pulsed with undulating waves of motion meant to entice him. Liz saw misty visions of them getting married, having a honeymoon in a real bed and settling down in a suburban home to raise a family.
Liz could see herself knitting little booties when she told her dream lover about the baby growing inside her. A classic cornball scene. He was thinking along more practical lines and reached back to open the air-reserve valve on his scuba tank.
That was meant to give a diver another five minutes of air under normal circumstances. With two of them breathing hard and wasting some air each time they passed the mouthpiece back and forth, maybe they had one minute left.
He rushed to finish before then, increasing the speed of his thrusts, twisting and reaming his cock so that her sleek cunt waves tingled nerves all around his long shaft.
Spiral thrusts tore her broken maidenhead even more. Seeping blood swirled around the writhing pair like a vaporous black cloud.
Sharks can detect vibrations underwater from hundreds of yards away -- the violent thrashing of a wounded fish excites their instinctive hunger. The scent of blood in the water arouses the fearsome predators even more.
The leopard shark Liz had seen earlier circled back and swam around them, curious but still wary. His kind have lived in the sea unchanged for millions of years. They are graceful killing and eating machines perfectly designed for that purpose. Their oversized, underslung jaw contains row after row of sharp teeth like a rip saw.
Even the small leopard shark had a mouth big enough to bite off an arm, but the two struggling creatures he saw were both larger than he was. Cautious by nature, some even say cowardly, the leopard shark was reluctant to attack such large creatures. It kept circling in wary frustration. If one of the odd beasts killed the other, he would rush in and devour the remains.
Liz felt that odd prickle that comes when you know someone is watching you from behind. She looked around and saw the shark with its mouth gaping and its beady little eyes fixed intently on them.
"Hunnngh!" she grunted in alarm, pounding a fist on her lover's back, then pointing. He seemed annoyed by the distraction and kept fucking, wanting to finish before their air ran out.
What the hell, it was only a leopard shark, and not a very big one at that. John Sylver had seen far worse things under the sea. He was a professional diver, once a Navy frogman, now a freelance salvage master and part-time treasure hunter. There wasn't much underwater that really worried him.
If Liz had known his background, it would have enhanced all her romantic notions -- here was the daring adventurer she'd always dreamed of, the devilish rogue who took his pleasure without concern.
She felt his body stiffen and saw rushing bubbles burst from his taut lips. He reamed his cock deep and held her pressed close to him with hands clamped on her ass. His cock swelled and seemed to explode, jetting cum like a high pressure hose.
"Aaagggh!" was her watery cry. It was done! He had made her a woman. She was taking cum and loving every hot creamy spurt, gasping and moaning as her pussy spasmed into the wrenching convulsions of climax.
Her wringing cunt rippled and sucked on his gushing dick. He held her and kept pumping cum. Even John Sylver was caught up in the unusual thrill of their strange encounter. Blind with rapture, neither of them noticed a longer dark shape that circled further away... right on the misty fringe of their vision.
John caught a glimpse of it just as he fired his last shot. Another shark. Not a small, timid leopard this time. It was a ferocious Great White shark sixteen feet long. It's cavernous jaw was big enough to bite a man in half... and it was closing in.
He nudged the woman and eased his cock out. She turned her head to follow his worried glance and felt panic worse than when she was tangled in the fishing line. The circling torpedo shape was the largest thing she'd ever seen underwater.
Liz kicked wildly to reach the surface, but John grabbed her foot and yanked her back down. Showing fear was the worst thing they could do. He felt like a damn fool with his wet suit open and his dick hanging out, but he made a tentative charge at the shark.
Startled by his show of aggression, the ponderous beast backed off a little. John held her hand and started to ascend slowly, growing more tense because he knew they would be most vulnerable on the surface.
Not that it would matter if the Great White attacked, but John tucked his sated cock back into the open front of his wet suit. They were still rising, turning around to keep their eyes off the circling shark.
It caught the scent of blood seeping from her torn cherry. It streamed from her crotch like a filmy ribbon, twisted around and round by the way they kept turning. Liz then became aware of the scent trail she was leaving behind, and she became too strickened with horror to even think about breathing.
She motioned for her lover to draw his diving knife. He shook his head and dismissed the idea with a shrug. Divers only stab big sharks in the movies. If the Great White came in for the kill, it would rush at them with mind-blurring speed. A shark's skin is tougher than cowhide, rougher than sandpaper. Trying to cut an attacking shark would be like trying to stab a speeding freight train before it ran over them.
Liz could only think, "I'm going to die after all!" And she knew it would not be the dreamy kind of drifting off she'd found nearly drowning to be. She'd be crushed and ripped apart by powerful jaws... a terrible, hideous way to die. Bitten apart and devoured piece by piece.
The Great White shark kept rising with them, tightening the circle as they broke the surface. Its huge dorsil fin cut the water in a tight arc, looking like the sail of a small boat.
Paul Morgan and his wife Maureen watched from the deck of their long white yacht -- a sleek sixty foot power cruiser. He gunned the twin engines to life and said, "Jesus Christ! Get the rifle Maureen!"
She ducked into the cabin and emerged with a .30-06, working the bolt to jack a hollow-point, high powered round into the chamber. Paul steered toward the circling dorsil fin, hating to think how big the shark was underneath.
It was circling his friend John... and another diver. "What the hell?" Paul had thought they were alone in the area. He throttled back and let the yacht coast toward them, scrambling down from the flying bridge to grab the gun.
He aimed for the head of the menacing dark shape and fired. Water geysered up as the bullet plunged in. The shark was hit, but it barely moved. The beast was more distracted by the rumbling noise of the boat engines than a bullet that ripped through its head only inches from its small brain.
Paul fired again, feeling his hands and his forehead glaze with sweat. The millionaire playboy had hunted big game all over the world -- Polar bears in Alaska, elephant, rhino and Cape buffalo in Africa -- but never a beast as immune to pain as the shark seemed to be.
It took a second shot through the head and kept circling tighter around the pair in the water. Now wounded, it was in a rage... more dangerous than before.
Maureen ducked back into the cabin and came out with a 12 gauge shotgun, an autoloader with the magazine full of magnum load double-aught buckshot. She shouldered the weapon and fired, squeezing the trigger again as soon as she recovered from recoil that was like a mule kick.
She pumped six rounds of buckshot into the shark's head. Paul blasted it three more times with the rifle. The shark was slowing down now, streaming blood like a gory sprinkling can.
When the wounded, raging shark was on the far side of them, John grabbed Liz by the arm and yanked hard, swimming to reach a boarding ladder hanging off the stern of Morgan's white yacht.
Liz was numbed by terror, shocked by the roaring blasts of gunfire and the zing of bullets passing over her head. She couldn't swim to save herself. He had to drag her to the boat, gasping and sputtering like a drowning child.
Paul and his pretty wife had to reload. They started firing again just as John reached the ladder. He grabbed the bottom rung in one hand and pulled Liz toward it with the other. "Up!" he said to her. "Move your ass or get it bitten off!"
The shark swung a tight turn and raced after them, half dead but still dangerous. Morgan's rifle and the rapid-firing shotgun blazed fire and threw a hail of lead over their heads.
John had to push the terrified woman up the ladder, still hanging off the bottom rung until she was on the deck. Liz wasn't thinking about romantic fiction right then, but it was an act more courageous than any she'd ever read about.
She scrambled on deck, gasping and thankful to be alive. Never had solid wood felt so good under her feet. Sylver kicked off his swim fins so he could climb faster. The wounded, blood steaming shark was only a few yards away and coming in fast.
He pawed his way up the ladder and the wounded Great White crashed into the hull just under his feet. The bottom half of the ladder shattered and fell away. The shark rolled on its side and ate it -- metal rails, wooden rungs and all. They heard it crunch in those massive jaws.
Maureen leaned over the rail and fired three round of buckshot almost straight down. Deadly pellets peppered the shark's white belly. The shark rolled again, over and over in its death throes.
The wary leopard shark was still watching. It streaked through the water like a black bullet and tore at one of the Great White's gaping belly wounds. And there were now at least a dozen other dorsil fins circling the dying big hulk.
Sylver stood by the rail, gasping for breath, holding Liz close beside him. She was still so weak in the knees, she needed the strength of his arm just to stand up.
"That could have been us," he said. The sharks thrashed into a feeding frenzy, crazed by the river of blood pouring from the Great White's many wounds.
The others rushed in, ripping and tearing away great hunks of flesh. Liz felt a weakening sense of relief, but watching the big shark get torn to pieces made her start to feel sick. "Oooh, God... it's awful."
`Better him than us," Sylver said with a shrug. The savage shark attack excited him strangely. Watching the horror and holding a warm, stunning beauty so near combined to make his cock twitch and start to swell hard again.
Paul put away the weapons and climbed back up the ladder to the flying bridge. He took the wheel and roared the engines, steering the yacht further out to sea, leaving the mad swirl of shark fins and torn flesh far behind.
His curious wife Maureen approached the pair standing close to the stern rail. "Wow, that was close!" she said mainly to John.
"Tell me about it," he said, pulling off the hood of his wet suit. Then he loosened the harness of his heavy scuba tank and set it down on the deck.
Maureen was a ripely built redhead in her mid-to-late twenties -- full breasted and blessed with a bountiful ass. Her shoulder-length hair had the color and sparkle of fire, and the woman's whole being seemed to exude sultry heat from her crowning blaze of hair.
She studied the taller, more slender woman who was nervously peeling off her wet suit and trying to get the bottom of her bikini back on at the same time. Tiny speckles of blood spotted the deck beneath her feet.
"Oh, Jeez... looks like you got nipped," Maureen said with concern.
John Sylver wanted to laugh, but he could see the rescued damsel blush. He strained to remain politely silent and helped her off with her diving gear. By the way she hugged and kissed him so passionately when they first met, he hadn't thought she might be a virgin.
Now he knew. Her torn cherry was still seeping, far more than a typical deflowered virgin because of the wild way her heart still raced. He felt a glow of male pride having been first into such a stunning beauty, but felt just a tad guilty at the same time.
In a way he'd taken advantage of her mental state of near hysteria... and his rampant lust for her damn near got them both killed. It was along way from being the best sex he'd ever had... but it was damn sure the most unusual!
He grinned sheepishly and said, "My name's John Sylver. S -- Y -- L -- V -- E -- R." he spelled his last name out of habit.
"Liz Randolph," she answered, relieved enough to see humor in the wake of their narrow escape. "That's L -- I -- Z. Randolph, R -- A -- N -- " They all broke out laughing before she finished.
Maureen had now traced the speckles of blood back to their source. The front wedge of Liz Randolph's string bikini was stained with dibbling cum and cherry juice. She said to John like a scolding parent, "God damn, you popped her cherry out there, and just now you get around to saying hello?" Liz sighed and shook her head, still amused and quite willing to admit, "It was an odd way to start a relationship." She told the redhead about being trapped underwater in a tangle of fishing line, then realized, "I don't know your name -- "
"It's Maureen. That's my husband Paul up on the bridge." He heard his name mentioned and turned to wave.
"I'm pleased to meet you both," Liz replied, just now starting to calm down. "And you, Mr. Sylver... with a Y."
"The pleasure was all mine," he said, "but please call me John."
Maureen smirked at them both. "You can call him Long John if you want... like Long John Silver, the pirate in `Treasure Island.' You must know by now how he got that for a nickname."
Liz blushed. "Er, y-y-yes. I know... but h-hhow did you find out?"
"Well, you might say he's gone skindiving with me before. Diving sssooo deep, huh John?"
"Just the way you like it," he muttered, wishing the conversation had not taken this turn. He could see it bothered Liz.
One of the teacher's romantic illusions was shattered already. She had no reason to think a rugged, bronze-tanned hunk like Long John Sylver would still be a male virgin at his age, but the casual way he and the redhead joked about having sex together really surprised her.
"You -- you two have made love? What about your husband?"
"Oh, he likes to watch. We have what you might call an open marriage. Wide open, if you know what I mean."
"Aaahhh, y-y-yes." Liz felt her voice quake and her mind started to reel. It wasn't so much the idea of infidelity and an open marriage, but how casual they were about it. She wondered what kind of situation she'd blundered into.
Maureen sensed her discomfort and said, "You must be cold. Let's go below and get you some dry clothes."
"Oooh, yes! I'd like that." Liz looked back at John, and felt her heart ache. He was a rogue just like the heroes in books she'd read. That hurt and excited her at the same time.
The aft cabin of the Morgan's yacht was more spacious and luxurious than Liz could have imagined. The round bed was blanketed with black mink and reflected in the mirrored ceiling above. The ornate bathroom fixtures were glittering gold, and the sunken heart-shaped bathtub looked big enough for two.
"Our little lovenest," Maureen explained modestly. She bent down and ran steaming hot water into the tub. Liz slipped out of her wet bikini and stepped into the bath with a thankful sigh.
Maureen switched on the whirlpool pump and began to undress. Liz basked in the warming swirl from the steaming hot jets and watched her strip off a white middy blouse with red piping. The woman's breasts were big and lush with large nipples rimmed by silver dollar-size circles of rose colored flesh.
Then Maureen slid out of red bell-bottom pants. that appeared to have been molded to fit her voluptuous curves -- a bountiful ass and a soft, ripely domed pussy mound furred with a broad "V" of fiery red cunthair. It looked like her crotch was ablaze.
Liz had not paid much attention to other women before. She had not seen one naked since gym classes in college, and there it was considered most impolite to stare. She did now, feeling a nervous twinge of envy. Maureen's full, sweeping curves were so much more abundant than her own.
It was not hard to see why John Sylver had been drawn to the sultry redhead, but the thought of him fucking her still brought twinges of jealous pain. Maureen smiled at her and stepped down into the tub.
"It's nothing serious," she said as though able to read the young teacher's mind. "John and me, I mean. We just like to have fun."
"W-w-with your husband watching?" Liz still found that most difficult to accept.
"It turns him on," she explained simply. "Paul never fucks me better than when I've been with another man."
"Oooh, Lord." Liz shuddered as the woman settled into the other lobe of the heart-shaped tub.
"Don't be so quick to reject what you haven't tried," Maureen suggested with an intent look. Her arm reached out and circled Liz at the shoulder. "John will get really hot if he watches you with someone else."
"No," Liz said flatly. "I don't want another man!"
"Who said a man? I mean John wants to watch you with me."
CHAPTER THREE
Liz said nothing for almost a full minute. She sat stunned, not knowing what to say. She knew about lesbian sex the same way she knew about sex in general -- mostly from college classes in human behavior, or reading in books. The timid, normally quite reserved young teacher had never been tempted to try it. Not until now.
Her brush with death, the mental replay of her dull life and a strange, not totally satisfying encounter with John Sylver underwater had stripped away most of her prudish inhibitions. She lounged in the tub with eyes closed, looking dreamy and detached, luxuriating in the warmth of the whirlpool bath.
After what seemed like an hour of deep contemplation she said very softly, "I -- I've never done anything like that before."
Maureen waited, wise enough not to rush the shy and stunning young teacher. Then she replied smoothly, "I didn't think you had."
"I don't think it's normal, do you?" Liz ventured in a weak voice.
"What's normal?" Maureen asked her. "I'm not planning to give up men, if that's what you mean. But why shouldn't women also enjoy each other?"
"Why indeed?" Liz said after the longest time. She finally opened her eyes and smiled at the voluptuous redhead relaxing beside her in the opposite lobe of the heart-shaped tub. "My mother has lovers of both sexes," she after more contemplation.
"Does she?" Maureen's depthless, sea-green eyes looked brighter. The arm she had circling Liz at the shoulders drew a little tighter, easing them close. Just the tip of the indented heart-shape was between them.
"I always thought it was shameful," the teacher said flatly. "I've tried hard to be more... more a proper young lady."
"That's odd," Maureen said. "My mother was so strict and such a prude. She only had sex with my father, and didn't do that very often. 'A wife's duty,' she called it. I was eighteen before she let me go out with a guy."
"What happened?" Liz asked. Sharing their past experiences drew them closer.
"Well, Mom told me all the things he might try to do. You know, kissing and whispering love words in my ear -- " She kissed Liz on the cheek and nuzzled her long, dark mink-brown hair aside. Maureen's soft, moist lips brushed her ear. "I wasn't supposed to allow any of that."
Liz felt her skin tingle. Maureen languidly tongued into the shell-pink hollow of her ear and filled it with her warm breath. "And I wasn't supposed to let any boy touch my breasts," the redhead went on confidentially.
Maureen's free hand was lathered with soap. It swept across the young teacher's firm, sharp tits, gliding smoothly on a film of scented soap bubbles. Her middle finger teased around the nipples and made Liz heave an anxious moan.
"But someone did," the teacher guessed.
"Nope!" Maureen tweaked her nipples and tongued into her ear again. "I didn't allow any of that stuff. I just got the guy's dick out and sat on it in ,the front seat of an old Chevy" They both giggled like kids discussing a raid on the cookie jar. "I fucked on my first date and I fucked on all the rest. I was the most popular girl in my senior class." Maureen broke off laughing softly.
"Your Mom didn't know what you were doing?"
"Never even suspected. She thought guys were all after me because I was a `nice' girl. Nice and easy is what I was. But Mom thought I was still a virgin when I married a millionaire."
"Did -- did Paul know?"
"Of course he knew. I was his secretary. I'd been taking dick -- tation from him for six months." Maureen twirled the teacher's tingling nipples again, puffing the arm around her tight enough to reach them both at once.
"Hhhooo!" Liz sighed and sucked in a deep breath that swelled her breasts in Maureen's soapy hands.
"Paul knew, and he didn't mind?"
"Why should he? Paul had dozens of women before me. We got married because I was the best. I taught him a thing or two." Maureen kept one arm around Liz, reaching beneath her arm to feel tit and twiddle her rigid nipple. The other hand slid under the swirling bathwater and dropped into her lap.
"Teach me," Liz moaned, spreading her long, shapely legs to let Maureen's teasing fingers reach her twat slit.
"You bet I will, baby! You've got a lot of wasted time to make up for." She probed between the teacher's taut, trembling cuntlips and circled her clit.
"Unnngh! I know." Tears misted in her eyes as Liz moaned, leaning back to relish the woman's tantalizing touch. "I came with John the first time, but that wasn't enough."
"There's no such thing as enough," Maureen said with assurance. She took a deep breath and dropped her head beneath the surface.
"Hhhaaaa!" Liz gasped. Maureen went down like a diver, leaving a swirl of fiery red hair on top of the rippling bathwater. She kissed and sucked the teacher's pussy and stroked between its quivering lips with her lapping tongue.
Liz felt jarring shocks of pleasure that made her lithe body tense and tremble from head to toe. She gasped in delight and dipped her hands under Maureen's chest to fondle the creamy big tits that made her so curious and so envious when they first met.
She twirled Maureen's plump nipples between her thumbs and first fingers, sighing in rapture when she felt them swell hard. Bubbles of lost breath streamed up from the redhead's cunt sucking lips -- those were the sounds of anxious grunts and moans that could not be heard.
For an idle moment, Liz wondered if she were destined to have thrilling sex underwater all the time. Maureen tongued her clit so expertly that it sparked like a broken high voltage line.
Liz sighed and squirmed, arching her back and spreading her legs wide as she could. Maureen licked and then fucked into her with a wiggling tongue. It was smaller, but so much more lively than John Sylver's cock. The sultry redhead touched nerves that Liz did not know she had.
The teacher's newly discovered desires all flared. She arched and pumped her hips to meet Maureen's thrusting tongue. It barely touched the fresh wound of her torn cherry, but the exposed nerves all responded sharply. It was thrilling pain and pleasure combined. Liz came to a wonderful climax just a moment before Maureen ran out of breath.
She was still gasping and squealing when the redhead surfaced and gulped air. "I'll do even better on the bed," she said. "Let's get out and get dry."
"B-b-better?" Liz moaned. She could not imagine an orgasm better than one that left ecstatic aftershocks still rippling when she climbed out of the heart-shaped tub.
"Much better," Maureen promised. "And on the bed we can suck each other."
"Oooh, I -- I don't think I can do that." Liz felt vaguely repulsed but excited by the idea at the same time. All of her emotions seemed tangled as the snarl of invisible fishing line that drew her into this adventure to start with.
Maureen took two fleecy white towels from a bathroom cabinet and said, "You dry me... I'll dry you." They did that, sharing a kind of adoring intimacy Liz never thought she'd have with another woman -- especially one she did not like much at first.
Wherever she touched the bountiful redhead's ripe body she could not help thinking John Sylver had touched her too. He must have kissed and sucked her beautiful big boobs, and maybe he'd eaten her plump, fiery-haired pussy.
In the bedroom, Maureen took a pair of blow-dryers from a drawer. They dried and brushed each other's hair. "I wish mine would grow this long," the redhead said wistfully. "Paul and John both go wild for women with long hair -- "
"Oooh?" Liz said. She felt a rushing surge of warmth and a lingering chill at the same moment. She remembered Maureen saying John would like to watch her with another woman. Liz felt more reckless and daring than ever before, but she wasn't ready for that.
"Lie down on the bed," Maureen said in a breathy deep voice when they were both dry and had their hair brushed and smooth and soft as shimmering silk.
Liz swallowed the last of her shy reservations and stretched out on the bed. The soft warmth of black mink stroked her back. She sighed and squirmed to enjoy the sensuous pleasure of luxury so elegant it seemed almost obscene. The sleek, soft touch of rich fur below and the sparkling clear mirror above. Liz looked up at her smiling reflection and shyly stroked her own breasts, lazing her hands around the firm cone shapes while her thumbtips teased her nipples hard.
Then she slid both hands down the rippled plain of her belly and caressed her own creamy smooth thighs, purring and stirring with the delights of self-stimulation. She gazed into the round mirror over the bed and said, "I couldn't do this with the men watching. I'd die of fright."
Maureen climbed up on the bed with her. "That's an odd thing to be afraid of. You nearly drown then almost get eaten by a shark, but you worry about men watching two women make love?"
Liz smiled seductively at her reflection in the ceiling mirror and slowly whirled a finger around her tingling clit bud. "Silly, isn't it?"
"I think so." Maureen turned on hands and knees so that her head faced the teacher's feet. The redhead straddled her and leaned down to nuzzle Liz's hands away from her simmering cunt slit. "If you want to tease pussy, tease mine." She straddled the shy teacher's head as she spoke.
"Hungh?" Liz said with a questioning moan. Even with the two of them alone, she wasn't sure she could do it. She felt the blushing heat of shame, staring up at the soft-lipped slit of Maureen's buttery cunt.
Her legs were spread so that Liz could see the smaller and moist inner lips -- pink folds of woman flesh that dripped warm honey and reeked with heady musk. "Kiss it like you would a man's mouth," Maureen said.
"A man with a curly red beard?" Liz chuckled, starting to loosen up.
"Yeah... unnngh! That's the way!" Maureen felt the warmth of quivering lips kiss her twat and pressed down. Liz licked and sucked and stroked with her tongue.
A sharp, bitter-sweet taste filled her mouth. It was like warm honey mixed with moldy old cheese. Maureen gave a breathy moan and bowed her head down.
She sucked and thrust with her tongue like a wanton, nibbling her lips on the teacher's clit. "Aaagggh!" Liz gasped, arching back and tossing her head between Maureen's supple thighs.
Liz found that she liked the taste of cunt. She sighed and took another lick. "It's not as sticky as a man's cum," she said.
"Oooh? You know about that?"
"John came in my mouth before we fucked," Liz said. It was part of a shameful confession, part an expression of female pride. Something compelled her to let Maureen know she was not a totally shy and innocent recluse.
"Well, then dig your tongue a little deeper. You might get another taste of his cum. We fucked just before he went over the side for this morning's dive."
"Hhhmmm... I never would have guessed. He got so hard and hot for me, even in the cold water."
"On dry land he'd have balled your brains out," Maureen said in a murmur with lips and hot breath both teasing the teacher's twat. "You should have seen him the first time with my little sister."
"Your -- your sister?" Liz croaked.
"She just turned eighteen. Long John's big cock was my birthday present. We had a party last night and he fucked her until dawn."
"Oooh, Jeeezus!" Liz winced and felt her heart sink like a stone. The man who brought life to all her romantic fantasies had been fucking a teenager the night before? Things aboard this splendid white yacht were even more bizarre than she thought.
Maureen licked her pussy and said, "I wanted Sally to start with a man who knows what he's doing."
"How... kind ,of you." Liz felt like biting Maureen's plump juicy clit off just for spite.
"Isn't love supposed to be learning to share?"
Liz answered distantly, "I don't know what love is any more."
"Then let me show you. I love to eat cunt and make a woman cum!" Maureen buried her face between the teacher's long legs and thrust deep with her tongue.
"Hhhaaagggh!" Liz felt the surging tremors of another climax twist and tangle her thoughts in a whirlpool of confusion. Seething jealousy gave away to raw pleasure. She rasped and moaned, bucking her hips in a writhing fury of rampant desire.
The redhead pressed her splayed crotch over Liz's gaping mouth and growled, "Eat me! Make me cum with you!"
"Mummmph! Unnngh!" Liz sucked and speared her tongue into Maureen's buttery hole, sharing lewd pleasure she could not begin to understand, unleashing raw passion she didn't know she had.
The lewd bitch riding her face was a shameless wanton. She fucked other men while her husband was watching, and pandered away her sister's purity. Liz thought that made her mother's shameless affairs seem almost saintly, but she felt strangely excited by the unthinkable perversion she'd blundered into.
Liz licked and sucked red furred pussy like a lewd fiend, jabbing and twisting and wiggling her tongue just to see how much perverted pleasure Maureen could stand.
"Grungh! Hhhaaa... Whooo-wheee!" the redhead wailed. "God damn, I can't believe you never ate cunt before. Make me cum, Liz. Oooh, God... make me cum hard all over your face. Fuck your tongue into me!"
The two of them bucked and thrashed on the round bed spread with luxurious black mink, climaxing together three times in rapid succession. Each orgasm came harder and lasted longer than the one before.
When it was done and they both lay gasping side-by-side on their backs, smiling up at the round mirror over the bed, Liz caught her breath and said. "That was great... but I couldn't have done it with anyone else in the room."
Maureen grinned and licked the last traces of sultry fuck honey off her lips. "Do you mind watching yourself in the mirror?" she asked softly.
"Uh, n-n-no. That's all right, I guess."
"Good, because I'm ready to fuck clit!" Maureen rolled over and straddled Liz at the hips. Smiling down on the teacher's pretty face, she pumped her hips and made fuck motions like a man.
It seemed pointless -- not obscene, just silly. And then their clits touched. Maureen's thick, stubby clit sparked searing hot shocks of pleasure into Liz like a fleshly little lightning bolt.
Staring up at the mirror, Liz watched her delighted eyes widen. Maureen humped and rammed down, writhing and twisting to keep their clits in contact. Liz arched her back off the silky mink and whirled her hips to increase the joyous shocks of delight that came from all-female fucking.
"Oooh, God! It feels so good!" the teacher wailed in a shrilling high voice. "Fuck me, you beautiful bitch! Fuck me hard and make me cum!"
Maureen obliged her with quick jack-hammering clit thrusts that made them both gasp and then hold their breath. Liz watched herself in the mirror. She clamped her hands on the woman's back and raked her soft flesh with sharp nails.
It seemed odd to watch her own wanton response to thrilling lewd pleasure -- but better than watching her dull life when it flashed before her eyes. They came to a glorious orgasm, grunting and moaning and grinding their hot cuts together like two sparking high voltage wires.
It took Liz even longer to catch her breath after that. She stared up at the mirror and sighed curiously. "Do -- do you think John would really get hot for me watching something like that?"
Maureen was sprawled limp on her back close beside Liz, both smiling up at their reflection of weary rapture and mutual bliss. "I'd be willing to bet he's been watching," she said cautiously.
Liz snapped her head up and looked around the cabin, tense until she saw they were still alone in the room. Maureen pulled her back and kissed Liz on the ear, teasing it with her impish tongue while Liz gazed into the mirror.
"That's not exactly a mirror -- " she said with a sly twinkle lighting her lustrous green eyes. " -- it's one-way glass."
CHAPTER FOUR
John Sylver, Paul Morgan and his sister-in-law Shelly were sitting on stools in the bar on deck directly above. They were all leaning over an ornate wooden railing, gazing down at what looked like an oversized porthole set into the floor.
They had a clear view of Maureen and Liz Randolph and could hear all that was said because Paul had the cabin wired for stereo sound.
One of his favorite sex games was to invite an attractive but straight-laced married couple on a weekend cruise. Maureen played the gracious hostess and showed the man the aft cabin he and his wife were to share.
Nine times out of ten, the husband made a pass that she pretended to fend off, feigning complete surprise. Seven of the nine persisted, thinking they were slyly seducing her.
In the bar on the deck above, you could not see through the railed porthole when the lights were on. Paul would serve the wife imported champagne and very gradually dim the lights until she could see clearly what her husband was doing in the cabin below.
Of seven who watched their husbands rave over the voluptuous redhead, six could hardly wait to get fucked on the same bed. Paul delighted each one... while Maureen served the straying husband champagne in the bar, gradually dimming the lights.
It seemed a cruel trick at first, but nearly all of the couples who fell victim were anxious to cruise again and watch it worked on someone else. Their circle of swinging friends increased greatly that way.
They all had great fun watching a man watch his wife fuck another for the first time. The shock, the shame, the blushing rage and frustration all swelling inside because then the man knew all the other guests had watched him tell Maureen it was all right.
This cruise was different. The usual circle of friends was not bunched around the rail. Paul had taken the yacht Temptress north from its mooring in San Francisco Bay to indulge in another of his favorite pastimes -- the search for sunken treasure.
It was a hobby that became a compulsion. For years he had researched the wreck of the San Luis Rey, an early steam vessel that sank in a violent storm with a fortune in gold bullion aboard.
Paul spent the last year researching the currents and prevailing winds of the late eighteen hundreds. The San Luis Rey was built as a schooner and meant to sail. A small steam engine was added almost as an after-thought.
He reasoned the skipper might have been using both sail and steam power trying to outrace the storm. That might have put the ship fifty to a hundred miles further along its planned course when it swamped and the steaming boiler exploded.
Also, under sail the strong winds were likely to have carried the ship much closer to shore than most had thought. There were no survivors when the San Luis Rey went down, so no one knew. exactly where or when the disaster occurred. It was rather like looking for a wooden needle in a watery haystack.
Paul Morgan was determined to find it, not because he needed the money -- but because, as climbers have said of Mount Everest... it's there.
He had the yacht Temptress newly outfitted with the latest and most sophisticated electronics money could buy. One device would detect electromagnetic waves. The Rey's masts and wooden hull might have long since rotted away, but parts of the exploded steam engine would remain and he now had instruments to detect them even if time and ocean currents buried them under shifting sands on the sea floor.
John Sylver's job was to check out the magnetic anomolies they discovered. That morning it turned out to be the engine of a fishing boat sunk no more than twenty or thirty years before. He surfaced with a well-aged and still unopened bottle of Scotch whiskey found in the captain's small cabin.
They were drinking that now, gazing down through the porthole. Paul's eyes feasted on Liz. He said, "Not quite the treasure we were seeking, but still a treasure none-the-less."
The girl Shelly sat between them, a sultry redhead like her sister Maureen, but not yet so fully developed. She said in a pout, "I don't see what's so sexy about her." Shelly resented not being the center of attention as she was the night before.
Paul said, "What do you think, John? You've had them both. Who's the best in bed, Shelly or Liz?"
"I -- I think it's too soon to decide. I haven't had Liz in a real bed."
"Well then, why don't you go below and give her a treat before my wife turns Liz into a lez --?"
"What about me?" Shelly cried in girlish pique. Watching had made her hot, and she wanted another round with Long John Sylver's big cock. It was her first... and just like Liz, the impetuous young redhead imagined herself to be deeply in love.
Paul leaned back from the rail and eased open the zippered fly of his white yachting pants. He had anchored the boat in a cove not far from where they had the chilling encounter with a ravenous Great White shark. Morgan knew they would get no more treasure hunting done that day.
He pulled out his cock and said, "If you're so damn sexy, why don't you - suck on this for awhile?"
Shelly gawked and groaned, "You're married to my sister!"
"Yeah, and Sylver banged her first thing this morning... after spending all night with you. So you can't be as sexy as you'd like to think."
She glared at John and demanded to know. "Is that true? Did you fuck my sister right after you finished with me?"
"Well now," he drawled with a slack-jawed grin, "I never said I was finished with you... "
"Son of a bitch!" She turned her glaring green eyes on Paul. "You let him do that? You let him fuck your wife?"
"I didn't just let him . I laid on the edge of our bed and watched. I love to see a big cock bore into her cunt."
"Oooh, God! That's gross! You watched him do it?"
Paul nodded and tipped back his yachting cap. "Just like I watched Long John ream you the night before," he said with a lecherous smile of delight.
Shelly's face paled. "W -w-we weren't in that cabin. There wasn't a mirror that might have been one-way glass."
He nodded again, calmly hand-jacking his cock right before the girl's eyes. "Right you are... just closed-circuit TV cameras built into the wall on all four sides of the bed. You wanna suck my cock or watch a great video tape?"
* * *
Sylver left the bar and went to the cabin below. He was hoping Shelly would decide to suck dick. John did not share Paul's kinky desire to watch or be watched. It just came with the territory. Helping the eccentric millionaire search for sunken treasure was the easiest job he'd ever had. Fucking Paul Morgan's wife and her younger sister were just fringe benefits.
He entered the cabin without knocking and found them going at it again -- this time with lithe Liz Randolph on top, arching and driving her body down, making fuck motions just as a man would.
John watched from the edge of the round bed at their feet. Silently, he began to undress. Maureen saw his reflection in the mirror over the bed. She smiled and winked like a conspirator, but he didn't notice. His eyes focused intently on Liz's bounding ass cheeks. He liked trim, taut buns like hers and the long, graceful taper of her shapely legs.
Sylver undressed, watching his cock swell hard and reach out toward the pair on the bed. The grunts and moans of two beautiful women nearing orgasm sent hot rushing blood hammering into his long shaft.
He climbed on the bed near their feet, casting a quick glance up at the mirror above the bed. John wondered if Paul and Shelly were watching, or if the playboy-financier had gotten his young sister-in-law to suck his cock.
Paul might be watching even if the newly initiated redhead was bobbing her head in his lap. Morgan liked multiple sexual pleasures, and he was a man who could afford to indulge his wildest fantasies.
Maureen watched the tanned, muscular diver hunch on his knees behind Liz, bending forward over them both to bridge on his powerful arms. Her green eyes fluttered in anxious anticipation.
His hard throbbing cock angled toward the soft fleshy slot between Liz Randolph's smooth thighs. The young teacher was bucking wildly now, writhing and twisting as clitoral stimulation sent rippling shocks of pleasure up and down her spine.
John supported his upper body with one arm and reached back with the other hand to guide his big cock into the wriggling cleft between Liz's long legs. She felt the bulbous head of it touch her dripping wet cunt slit from behind.
"Hunnngh?" she gasped, pressing down harder on the swollen nub of Maureen's tingling clit.
"No air hose to pass back and forth this time," he remarked. "No shark waiting to bite off a piece of your ass."
"Oooh, John!" The head of his springy hot dick lodged in the soft cleft of her cunt slit, burning like a fiery brand as she humped and swayed to excite her female partner below.
Both women tetered on the brink of a glorious climax, and now a new element had been added. Sylver lodged his cock in the slender wet mouth of Liz's twat and pressed down, bracing with both arms again.
She shivered and squealed as the long shaft began to push in. The fullness inside made her clit bulge and tingle even more. Maureen arched her back and lifted the lithe teacher's body to meet his sinking cock.
"Hhhooo!" Liz moaned. The sweltering heat of clit-to-clit contact filled her eyes with misty tears of delight. Sex with the beautiful, ripely built wife of a millionaire had been thrilling, but nothing like the heated pulse of a big cock boring into her twat.
Liz trembled, expecting to feel pain when his swollen cockhead slid through the fresh tear in her cherry. But the sensation was mixed with pleasure that made her wet cunt grip and pulse with rippling delight. She heaved a long sigh that pitched higher, rising into a shrill squeal.
Sylver liked hearing her. That is something they both missed underwater where all sounds were reduced to muted wet gurgling noises hard to hear over the mechanical rasp of the scuba air regulator.
He also liked having her beneath him. Upright in the fluid, shifting sea currents there was no way to gain leverage -- no fixed point from which to launch really satisfying, powerful deep thrusts.
Liz howled and wailed as he pumped his cock into her, driving hard and reaching deeper than the first time. His weight pressed her down on Maureen's soft, full figure and made the squishy contact between their two clits absolute rapture.
It was a new treat for jaded millionaire's wife. She gasped and cried shrilly too. She felt the weight of a strong man hammering down on her, looked up and saw his ruggedly handsome face, but the fleshy contact was strickly soft and feminine. Liz padded the fury of his hammering thrusts.
And of course there was no cock going into Maureen. Dickless fucking with Liz seemed exciting enough when they were alone, but now with a man on top of them both it made Maureen keenly aware of the emptiness in her groin. Her sleek, buttery cunt clenched and surged with a frenzy of need.
Sylver enjoyed being on top of two women at once. He was arched high off the luxurious fur covered bed as though fucking one really fat woman, but the supple flesh under his was trim and taut. Liz bucked and writhed between them, driven down by his cock thrusts, then arching back to meet his spearing cock with gasping cries of lewd pleasure.
He worked his hands between them and felt Maureen's bountiful tits. Sylver kneaded his fingers into lush flesh and squeezed so her hot nipples bulged to press on Liz Randolph's small, more delicate tit crowns.
With their nipples and clits receiving sharp stimulation, both women howled and wailed in straining delight. Their voices twined in a kind of obscene stereo. Sylver grinned lewdly and maneuvered his hands to feel both pairs of tits at once. He caught two nipples between his thumbs and forefingers on each side. Maureen's below and Liz's above. He teased and twirled until they both bucked and screamed into orgasm. Sylver was nowhere near ready to cum. Fucking all night with an eager teenager, then her older sister in the morning and a stunning lithe beauty trapped helpless under the sea had drained all the urgency from his weighty balls.
He pumped into Liz with long, deep thrusts and savored the wrenching tight grip of her slinky cunt. It slithered and seethed with moist heat stirred from previously untouched depths.
Beneath her, Maureen's cunt simmered empty and vented the musky scent of her sex juices. Tantalizing lust odors filled the cabin, stirred by the voices of two women gasping and wailing their way into rapture.
"Oooh, God!" Maureen said through gritted teeth. "Give me cock! I can't cum hard enough with just her humping my clit!"
John drew back and paused for a moment to consider the proposition. Liz cried, "No, don't you dare! I need your cock! Don't take it out."
"I'll put it back," he said. "One thrust for you, then one for her?"
"N-n-no, I want it all!" Liz cried. "Make me cum! Please, John. Fuck me! Only me!"
"But Liz, Maureen's pussy is so hot and so empty. Don't you want to share?" He wavered above her with just the knobbed tip of his cock lodged in the moist grasp of her clinging cunt.
"No, I don't want to share you! She's been fucked hundreds of times. Now it's my turn!"
"Yeah, you have a point there," he had to admit. John drilled his dick back into the teacher and made her wail with ear ringing delight, but then he picked up the pace and let his cock spring out of her when he pulled back., Liz sobbed a pitiful sound of despair when his cock sprang out, but Sylver slanted his rod down and jammed into the red-furred pussy pressed against hers right below.
"Whooo -- wheee!" Maureen shrieked in triumph as Sylver's dick plunged deep into her. "Fuck me, John. I'm better than she'll ever be!"
He let his cock linger in Maureen's seething twat. With Liz sandwiched between them he could not get in her to the root, but the fiery redhead rippled and squeezed all the cock her writhing pussy could reach.
They were different, no doubt about that. Maureen's pussy surged with rhythmic contractions that were precise and carefully calculated to delight a man's cock. Liz did not have enough experience to coordinate her cuntal spasms. Fucking into her was like entering the cone of a fleshy volcano in violent eruption.
Nothing her pussy did was controlled or contrived. Liz was lust newly unleashed, wild and free and surging with strength. Sylver decided there was nothing better than fucking them both, once into Maureen, then once into Liz -- back and forth with his cock swinging between them like a pendulum.
He liked the sound that stirred, alternate wails of pleasure and moans of neglect. Maureen's voice was deep and breathy, she growled like a she-lion. Liz shrilled in a higher pitch when his cock was in her and heaved wacking sobs when he whipped out to enter her rival.
It took Sylver a minute or two to get the moves right, fucking down at a sharp angle to get into Maureen, then up and more nearly straight into Liz. He had to concentrate so no time was lost in between. It jarred his senses when they both cried begging sounds at once.
This wasn't his first time as part of a trio, but it was his first with two women at once. Before this, he'd shared some willing bitch with a buddy -- one of them in her pussy, one up her ass from the other side. Their cocks would butt heads and batter the frail wall of soft flesh between. That kind of twin-dick fucking even wore out some jaded whores.
But trying to satisfy two horny women with one cock was a far greater challenge. Even when Sylver had the rhythm just right, neither one got all she really wanted. Being empty while his cock screwed into the other cunt kept them both more lively and tense with desire.
Sylver quickly discovered the unusual pleasure of two pussy rhythms, two different sizes and shapes of tit. He was thinking that it would be great to do again, next time including Shelly whose eager young body would bring in some new variables.
But with which one? With her sister Maureen? Having their two red collared cunts clamped together should be really wild, but they might be too much alike. Shelly was already well on her way to being a shameless wench with a steaming cunt anxious to master the arts of sensuous pleasure.
It might be better with Liz on the bottom and young Shelly sandwiched between. That would give him two novice pussies, each anxious in its own way. But he sensed that Liz was really not into kinky sex, and sharing his cock with the bubbly teenager might turn her cold.
John didn't want that. He had a special feeling for Liz. Even now, part of him wished they were alone somewhere without hidden cameras or trick windows of one-way glass -- somewhere they could talk and make love in complete privacy.
Love? Jesus Christ, is that what it was? Sylver had never been in love before. Not really. He thought so once in high school, but that ended when he joined the Navy.
He went to San Diego to train as a frogman, and she married another guy in their graduating class. Last he heard, his once great love had six kids and a house in the suburbs near Fresno.
Sylver had seen the world. Europe, the Middle East and the Orient. One diving mission even took him under the ice near the North Pole, working off of a nuclear powered submarine. His mind wandered through pleasant memories from all the places he'd been.
A tall blonde Swedish girl and a sloe-eyed Asian beauty only four foot nine, and thirty or so faces and places between that he could not remember nearly so well. He wished now that he could see Liz Randolph's face. It was, he was sure, the most striking and hauntingly beautiful of them all.
But she was face down and he was nibbling the back of her long neck, nuzzling through a swirling torrent of dark brown hair that shimmered like silk. He nibbled and tongued into her ear.
Liz gasped and clenched her pussy, straining to hold him and coax an extra thrust for herself. John obliged her and heard Maureen moan with frustration. He pumped her twice the next time and decided that Liz Randolph's impulsive pussy grip was really the most satisfying.
That solved one problem nagging his thoughts. The liquid heat of cum steamed and surged in his balls. He would have to fire it off very soon, and once his dick gushed there'd be no way to share. The wondrous pleasure of release would bind his cock in one cunt or the other. Now he knew it would be Liz he favored with his jetting spurts.
Both of them gasped expectantly when Sylver began to grunt and strain, fighting the furious pressure that swelled in his big nuts. He delighted in the tension of anticipation, clenching his cock muscles to hold back as long as he could.
Both women became more anxious, knowing that his vibrant long dick would have to fire soon -- both somehow knowing only one would get his flood of silver-white cum. They both worked their pussies in pulsing waves to delight him, begging to be the one.
Maureen grinned confidently, counting on greater experience and better trained cunt muscles that played a symphony of lust on his long flute of fuck muscle. Liz could only give him raw passion, the fire of emotion newly released. Her cunt seethed and squirmed with desire that neared desperation.
"Mmmeee!" she squealed. "Cum in me, John! Now, my darling. Oooh, please!"
He pumped deep and twisted, feeling the pressure mount to an almost unbearable strain, but arched back and drilled down into Maureen. Her eyes widened and her lips pulled tight with a look of ecstatic anticipation. She rippled and clenched her cunt with clever precision and thought surely it would have to fire into her.
But Sylver pulled back and spiked into Liz with such force that it made her delighted eyes bulge. His thick hot prick was spitting fire even before it bottomed in her. "Oooh, John!" she gasped. "Thank you! Thank you -- " For her the tension of uncertainty had been almost unbearable. Feeling her pussy tighten toward climax and not knowing if she'd have a cock in her when she came seemed worse than being caught underwater and running out of breath.
Sylver's hot gushing spurts of cum were as refreshing as that first desperately needed breath of air he'd given her from his scuba tank. She whined and wailed and soared into blissful oblivion.
Maureen's jaw clenched with the bitter shock of rejection. She saw Sylver's eyes clamp shut and heard his breath hiss with the straining pleasure of ejaculation. But her pussy felt only the terrible void and the pressure of a raptured cunt pressing down on her from above.
She groaned and snarled, "You bastard! You son-of-a-bitch!"
CHAPTER FIVE
The tension of female jealousy faded away before dinner. Paul took his wife and her sister below and made a sandwich with Shelly on her back and luscious Maureen face down in clit-to-clit contact. Having watched how it came out the first time, Morgan came in his wife's cunt to relieve her... and to make her sister all the more anxious. He had a long night planned for her.
Liz and Long John Sylver strolled on the deck, sipping champagne and watching the red sun dip toward the western horizon. "I'm glad you didn't want to watch them," she confided.
"I like looking at you a lot better," he said, softly but firmly squeezing her hand in his. They both felt a pulse of energy, something less sharp than the explosive emotions of sex, but stronger in a way that made them both shiver.
It took Liz almost a minute to gather enough courage to tell him what she felt. And then she hedged, afraid to come right out with it. "I'd like to get off the boat," she said. "Go somewhere else... just you and me."
He took a long breath and said, "I would too, but -- " He told her about the fortune in gold that sank with the San Luis Rey. " -- I want my share of that, and I've got a feeling we're getting close."
"We're close already," she said tentatively. "Don't you f e e l something between us... something magical that's hard to explain?"
"Yeah, I feel it. But that won't last. Not if I'm gone on one diving job and then another. Before this I was six months on an off-shore oil platform in the North Sea. That's no kind of life I can share."
Sylver wisely did not tell her that he had plenty of shore leave and a busty Irish girl to help him enjoy it. Liz was undaunted. "I make good money as a teacher, and you could get a job on land."
"Doing what? Pumping gas? I'm a diver. That's all I know how to do."
She decided not to press further, not right now. Sylver might clamp shut like a clam and squeeze her out of his life altogether. Liz could not bear the thought of that. She stood silent and watched the sun set, tightly gripping the hand of the man she loved.
* * *
They dined in a cabin forward on the main deck, served by a steward in a starched and sparkling white uniform. He was nearly silent and totally unobtrusive, gliding around the long table like a shadow.
The main course was fish simmered in butter and topped with a creamy white sauce. Liz wasn't sure what it was. Not sole or halibut or any other kind of fish she'd ever tasted. Morgan saw the curious look on her face and said, "It's shark. The same one that tried to eat you. I sent one of the hands back in the dingy to spear us a piece. The chef has done wonders with it, don't you think?"
Liz almost choked on the second bite that was in her mouth when Paul told her what it was. Sylver smiled and said, "Better we eat than be eaten."
"Er, yes... I guess so." Liz washed down the bite of sauteed shark with a sip of imported white wine. She could see now why John Sylver seemed obsessed with finding the sunken treasure. The elegance of the dining salon, a steward to wait on them hand and foot, a chef to prepare an unusual delicacy. It was nothing like life in her small apartment near the high school... and surely even further from his lonely life on an off-shore oil rig in the North Sea.
They talked about the treasure and checking another sector of the sea floor the next day. The two men seemed fully absorbed with their guest for a fortune in gold. It was as though Liz, Maureen and her sister Shelly were no longer in the room.
Maureen had found clothes for Liz to wear, a long royal blue satin gown and some more casual outfits for the next day, things left aboard by one of their previous guests. The young teacher had never been so grandly attired.
By the Paris label in her dinner dress, she figured it must have cost at least a month's pay. Maureen's gown was even more elegant, shimmering black satin with a deep-plunging V neck to make a daring display of her cleavage -- a soft valley between two stunning big tits that quivered enticingly whenever she moved.
"How long do you plan to keep looking for the treasure?" Liz asked Paul over brandy when the steward had cleared their dinner dishes away.
"As long as it takes," he answered simply. "We have supplies on board for another week. If that doesn't do it, we'll have to make port and come back."
Maureen smiled across the table. "That's not a problem for you is it, Liz? Don't teachers have a three month summer vacation?"
"Well, yes... but I do have other plans. Could you put me ashore sometime tomorrow?" She wasn't sure where the idea came from, or why it even entered her head, but she wanted to give John Sylver a time limit, and she was hoping he would decide to go with her.
"I suppose we could," Morgan said. "If you insist... but you're the first person so anxious to leave the ship."
"Can't you change your other plans?" John asked. "We can have a wonderful time. You can dive with me tomorrow and -- "
"No, I can't!" Liz said sharply. "I can't dive again, not after what happened today. And I can't change my plans. There's -- there's someone else I must see."
"Ooohhh -- hhhooo," Paul said with a chuckle. "Another man I'll bet."
Liz hesitated only a moment, knowing she was taking a risk. "As a matter of fact, yes... another man. One that I miss very much."
John Sylver's smile slumped into a scowl. "I -- I thought you said there was something special between us."
"I'm not sure of that any more," she answered blandly, still running a bluff. "I have special feelings for him too." It was not all a lie. Liz had planned to use part of her summer vacation to reacquaint herself with her father.
Paul Morgan pushed himself away from the table and said, "I really don't want to get mixed up in a lover's quarrel. Maureen, why don't we take your little sister to bed?"
Shelly giggled and said, "I'd rather go with John. Liz might have someone else, but I don't."
Sylver shot a glance from Liz to the teenager and back. Liz sat with a stunned blank look on her face. Shelly was wiggling her tongue between soft full lips like a little tease. "I'd love to suck a cock big as yours," she purred.
Liz felt her cheeks blush, but a cold feeling sank inside her like a stone. By the way John smiled at the girl, she knew she had gambled and lost. Sylver took Shelly by the hand and said, "Let's go... I want to see how much Paul taught you about sucking cock."
They left the dining salon, going out through the bar and down a ladder to the cabin with the round bed and mirror above. Liz sat feeling limp as a cast off rag doll. Maureen shrugged and tried to brighten her spirits. "I don't mind sharing Paul," she said. "In fact, I'd like to just sit and watch."
Liz tensed her sad, quivering lips and swallowed a tight knot of bitterness in her throat. She raised her voice hoping John would hear as he started down the ladder behind Shelly. "I'd like to go with you, Paul. Do you like fucking ass?" She was trying hard to act more brazen than Shelly.
"Oooh, yeah," he chortled, clasping and rubbing his hands together. "A tight ass can be better than twat."
"Good! I want to feel your cock in one that's never been touched." She said it with spite, glancing aft with a last hope that John Sylver might change his mind. He didn't, he reached down and pinched Shelly's ripe young ass instead.
* * *
Paul took Liz to the cabin forward of the dining salon, the one with TV cameras hidden in the walls on all sides of the bed. She didn't know about them. He turned the switch on and faced Liz with a delighted lewd grin.
She felt a sudden flash of regret, wishing that she'd not tried to rush John Sylver into a serious relationship, and wishing even more that she hadn't offered herself so brazenly to Paul Morgan. She didn't want to have sex with him at all -- and certainly not up her ass.
Maureen closed the cabin door and leaned against it, slouching with an odd grin on her lips. Paul was stripping off his white yachting outfit. He had the lean, hard body of a long distance runner and somehow managed to look distinguished even with his clothes half off.
His dark, wavy hair was starting to grey at the temples, turning to the same blue-grey color as his eyes. They looked cool and depthless, intent as though he could see right through her clothes.
Paul's leering grin gave her a chill. He said, "Come on, get undressed. We don't want to wrinkle your fancy gown." He dropped his pants as he spoke, baring a cock an inch or so shorter than John's, but bigger around and tipped with an enormous cockhead that reminded her of a clenched fist.
Liz said, "Paul... I really don't want to do this. I -- I was just trying to -- "
"I know what you were trying to do," he said curtly. "And John isn't the kind of guy you can pressure that way."
"Yes, I know that now," she said on the verge of tears. "I'll try to make up for that when he's finished with Shelley."
"He's gonna be with her all night," Paul said. He was standing nude, smiling and stroking his dick hard. "And you're gonna be with me." Morgan took a step toward her, still jacking his thick cock with one hand and reaching out with the other.
Liz backed toward the door with a sad look of concern and said, "No, please. I don't want you to touch me."
He chuckled a mirthless noise. "Look, bitch... John Sylver isn't the kind of guy you can pressure, and I'm not the kind you can tease. You take off that dress, or I'll rip it off!"
"Ungh, nnnooo!" Liz wheeled around and grabbed for the door handle, but Maureen caught her wrists in a vice-like grip.
"You can't leave now," she said. "Paul's dick is hard -- "
"Then you fuck it," Liz snarled, straining to break her hands free. "He's your husband!"
"And Captain of this vessel," Maureen said. "His word is law."
"You're both crazy!" Liz raged, unable to twist her wrists from Maureen's strong grasp. "Let me go!"
"We can't do that," Paul said calmly, coming up from behind. "We have a tradition aboard this vessel. No woman gets off without getting off at least once with me." He pulled at the long zipper that closed the back of her gown.
Liz cried, "John! Help me! Oooh, please... help me!"
"Your hero can't hear you," Paul said in a voice cold as steel. "He won't save you from me." He unclasped her bra and reached beneath her arms to feel her heaving tits.
"Aaaggghhh!" The touch of his cold hands gave Liz a burst of strength. She jerked her right arm from Maureen's grip and whirled to slap Paul's face as hard as she could.
He rocked back with a blazing handprint on his cheek, but that cool, leering grin was still on his lips. He rubbed his smarting cheek and slapped Liz hard with the other hand. "I'm all for equal rights, baby. You slap me, I slap you back!"
Liz Randolph was more stunned than hurt by the blow. She let out a shrill whine and went reeling back toward the bed. Paul grabbed at the front of her satin gown and ripped it down to her waist.
"Haaagh!" she gasped, crossing her arms to cover her naked breasts.
Paul said, "I saved your ass from that shark this morning, sweetheart. So now your ass belongs to me!" He lunged and pushed Liz backwards, grabbing for the dress bunched around her slender waist. The satin cloth ripped with a sound shrill as her scream. Liz sprawled on her back with only her panties, silk stockings and high heeled shoes left on.
Maureen watched the two of them like a spectator at a sporting event. Paul excited her wildly when he showed his mean streak. She stepped toward the wall at the foot of the bed and opened a sliding panel.
There were four twenty-five inch TV screens built into the wall -- two above side-by-side, two more directly below. Each one showed a different wide-angle view of the room. Liz sat up screaming, still trying to cover her breasts and saw herself on color television... from the front, back, left and right.
She stared in shock and the scream choked in her throat. Paul laughed and leaped up on the bed. "Smile, sweetheart... we're recording all this on video tape."
"You're sick!" she cried. Tears streamed down her cheeks and did not stop even when Liz clamped her eyes tightly shut. Paul pushed the lithe beauty down on her back and pulled at her frilly black panties. They slid to her knees while she kicked and screamed in hysterics.
Paul buried his smug, leering grin in her crotch, reaching to pin her flailing arms on the bed at the same time. He bobbed his head and twiddled her clit with the tip of his nose while the raspy wet tongue wiggled into her cunt slit. "Yyyuuummm," he said. "A little fear and loathing gives a woman a wonderful taste!"
Liz bucked and squirmed, jerking her legs to kick at him. Maureen grabbed her ankles and yanked them down. The tall, willowy brunette's knees bent over the foot of the bed. Paul's dutiful wife pulled out a pair of shackles that were chained to the bed legs and locked them around Liz's trim ankles.
"Oooh, God!" she cried, feeling the cold grip of steel and hearing the clank of heavy chain that bound her legs spread. After being tangled and almost drowned in a snarl of fishing line, she had a dreadful chilling fear of restraint.
Maureen snickered softly, enjoying the show. Helping Paul would make him wonderfully hot for her later on. Theirs was an odd marriage Liz would never understand. This made all her mother's blatant affairs seem quite inoffensive.
The busty redhead brought up anther pair of shackles that were chained at the head of the bed. She locked one around Liz's straining right arm and then circled to the other side, pausing to watch Paul lick and suck her splayed cunt.
Liz sobbed and wailed when the fourth locking steel band snapped shut around her left wrist, binding her arms spread high over her head. She raised up and saw herself on TV -- four different views of cruel restraint, four different views of lewd cunt licking that made the depths of her pussy clench and quiver in seething disgust.
Paul popped his head up and smirked. "Imagine, this luscious creature was cherry this morning. A virgin at her age. That's incredible!"
"And her ass is still cherry," Maureen reminded him.
"Yes, I know... but not for much longer." Paul dropped his head and tongue-teased her swollen clit with spiral strokes that made her whine and squirm.
His flicking, circling tongue shot tingling sparks of pleasure despite her clenching disgust. Musk scented honey and faint traces of blood from her torn cherry simmered up to the lips of her twat.
Paul licked and sucked while his wife watched it all on TV, able to watch him from both sides, above and below. The four channel view was more varied than watching in person. Maureen worked the cameras' remote controls and zoomed the left and right lenses in for spectacular close-ups of cunt licking that made her mouth water.
Liz raised her head and saw the four screens, wincing and streaming more tears as unwanted jolts of sexual stimulation wracked every nerve.
Maureen stood by the bank of TV screens and stripped off her elegant black gown. Beneath that she wore a lacy black bra with the cup tips open to make her plump nipples bulge and protrude. And her lace-trimmed black bikini panties had a slit in the crotch. Wisps of fiery red cunt hair peeked out through the slit.
Her hands slid down and her two middle fingers spread the split between ruffles of black lace. Maureen's probing fingers also spread her pussy lips and teased into the moist pink hole between them. She stood facing the camera mounted in the wall at the foot of the bed so the soft, buttery slit of her cunt filled one of the screens.
The video pussy looked twelve inches tall, a cunt almost big enough for a man to crawl in. Seeing it so magnified made Liz wince and groan, clenching her teeth.
"Paul?" Maureen asked sweetly. "Would it be all right if I sat on her face? Watching you eat her pussy makes mine so terribly hot!"
"But dear, if you sit on her face, Liz won't be able to watch on TV."
"She can see it all later on video tape."
"Yes, I suppose... maybe watch it with John."
"Hhhooo?" Liz moaned. It was all getting worse. She began to wish the shark had ripped her in two. That seemed better at the moment than having her cunt eaten by a man she detested.
Maureen climbed up at the head of the bed and hunched on her knees, straddling Liz Randolph's tear-streaked cheeks. "Eat me," the lusty redhead demanded. "I want to cum with you! Paul is such a great cunt sucker, I know you'll climax soon... like it or not."
"Nungh!" Liz groaned. Her sputtering protest was smothered by dripping wet cunt when Maureen pressed down. Her quivering lips tasted hot wet honey dripping from the redhead's cunt and smelled her reeking woman scent. At the same time, Paul's tongue circled her clit and plunged into her cunt slit, then back around her clit again in an anguishing rhythm of rapture.
Liz bucked and twisted her lithe body all that the binding shackles would allow, and just as Maureen predicted, she came to orgasm... like it or not. The real torture was that she did like it. Once the now familiar tremors of climax began, Liz forgot all about being the helpless prisoner of a lecherous man she despised and his lewd wife who was no better.
Her muffled wails of raging joy heated Maureen's simmering twat slit and made the woman start to sigh and squirm ecstatically, pressing down harder to tighten the seal between mouth and twat. Liz thrust with her tongue, excited by sexual instincts and impulses she could not control.
Maureen came with her, shrilling a scream and tossing her head. Liz shuddered through fearsome convulsions triggered by Paul Morgan's tongue. His wife was right about that, too. He was a great cunt sucker -- the best yet. Even better than John, the man she loved.
Liz thought that might be because he'd wounded her ego so badly by choosing to spend the night with Shelly. Or, with a cringe, she thought it might be because her long smoldering sexual desires were now fully awakened.
Under her cool mask of proper behavior, was there a lusty bitch like her mother -- one who happily gave herself to one man after another? No real love involved, only the tense mind-blurring shocks of pleasure that became addictive.
She shuddered at that thought as her unwanted orgasm soared to a crest of nerve jangling delight. And as her dazed senses slowly settled back, Liz felt the first pangs of a new worry. Paul wasn't through with her yet. He still wanted her ass.
CHAPTER SIX
Maureen scrambled off the bed, leaving Liz with the musky taste of wet cunt still on her lips. The redhead went to the foot of the bed and loosened the length of chain that bound their stunned captive's left ankle to the leg of the bed.
Paul Morgan watched -- not directly, but on the bank of four color TV screens set in the wall. That gave him a sense of distance and detachment, like watching some momentus event on the six o'clock news. He felt some sympathy for the teary-eyed young teacher... as one does for the victims of floods, fires and earthquakes. But seeing it on TV, he did not feel personally involved, even when he saw his own leering grin fill one of the screens.
Liz breathed a sigh of hope when the chain went slack for a moment. She prayed they were letting her go, but then Maureen pulled on heavy-linked chain and bent Liz's leg up over the bed.
"Ungh?" she groaned. Maureen chuckled softly, secured the chain and went around to the other side of the bed, scampering like a happy child at play. Liz thought she would never understand these two. They had wealth beyond the wildest dreams of most people... why did they share such a crazed need for perversion?
Maureen tugged the other chain to the head of the bed so that Liz was bent double, lying on her back with fingers now able to touch her toes. The cold shackles chafed hard against her tender flesh. Pain like the cut of a dull knife ran through her long limbs.
Her knees pressed on her heaving tits and tingled her nipples when Liz squirmed uncomfortably. The clanking chains spread both her arms and legs over her head, splaying her crotch and lifting her trim ass off the mattress.
"She's almost ready for you, dear," Maureen told Paul with a smile.
Paul turned to her and said, "What an adoring wife you are, preparing such a wonderful treat for me. Virgin asshole!"
"Giving you pleasure is my greatest pleasure," she replied. They hugged and kissed at the foot of the bed. Liz watched in dizzy dismay, finding it hard to breathe with knees pressed down on her chest. And having almost drowned that morning, lack of breath was her greatest fear in this world. No, it was only the second worst. Liz was also thinking she'd lost Long John Sylver forever.
If only you'd been more patient, a silent voice raged inside her skull. If you hadn't given him an ultimatum, you'd be with John now... not with a pair of depraved lovers who seemed to delight in her distress.
"I don't think her ass is quite ready for your cock, darling," Maureen said like a fawning servant girl. "Let me prepare her for you."
"All right," he allowed. "But hurry! Just looking at her cute little ass makes me hot"
"Yes, I can see that. What a magnificent boner you have for her!"
"I'll have one just as good for you later, my sweet." Paul kissed her again, fondling one breast and squeezing her ripely humped pussy mound with the other hand.
Liz felt her jaw tense and wanted to scream, Stop it! Their loving couple charade made her sick. Maureen purred, "Hhhmmm, I'll be ready... but first I want to watch you with her." She climbed up at the foot of the bed, down on her knees and looking between the long, shapely legs pulled over Liz Randolph's tossing head.
"Don't look so sad, Liz. Paul is a fabulous ass fucker."
"Then you take him! Let me go!" Liz wanted nothing more than to get off of their yacht, even if that meant jumping overboard in the dark of the night... even if it meant she would never see John Sylver again.
Her heart and her strained joints all ached, throbbing with dull pain and the tension of shivering fear and disgust. Maureen grinned at her and bowed her head down to plant an almost shy, tentative little kiss in the crack of her ass.
"Aaaggghhh!" Liz howled, twisting and jerking and clanking her chains. For some reason, her ass seemed more private and personal than her pussy. It was tender, and not something another person should touch. Certainly not kiss! She began to wonder if there was any end to their depravity.
Maureen smacked her lips and said, "Relax... you'll learn to like it. I know you will!"
"Never!" Liz snarled. "I hate you. I hate him. I hate everyone on, and everything about this floating madhouse!"
The redhead dropped her lips and kissed Liz's cringing asshole again, teasing around the tightly puckered rim with the tip of her tongue. "You'd like it if John kissed your cute little ass and teased with his tongue like this -- "
"Unnngh! No! He's the worst! Leaving me for that girl!"
"That girl is my sister," Maureen said sternly, "and she's more a woman than you'll ever be. She fucks like a mink and doesn't make demands."
Liz began to sob in deep remorse, wondering how all her romantic daydreams could have gone so wrong. Maureen was kissing her pussy now, stirring up slick honey with her tongue and dragging it down to wet the tightly puckered rim of the teacher's ass.
Paul watched the whole process on TV, sitting at the foot of the bed with his back to them both. He had a four-sided view that way -- cunt licking and ass teasing seen from left, right, above and below.
Silvery beads of sweat dotted his brow. Morgan was anxious, fevered with anticipation. His cock throbbed with lusty blood that made its veins bulge. It was like being a pirate ship captain. He had his dutiful wench and his gorgeous, unwilling captive in irons. And any day now, a fortune in gold to go with it.
He watched four different views of his wife's annointing the young teacher's ass for him with slick honey and thought few men ever enjoy that kind of adoration. Paul needed that sense of power. He had inherited the vast fortune that let him indulge all his wildest desires. The stocks, bonds and other investments were all managed by Swiss bank. He did nothing, really, but think up new ways to spend the proceeds... and spend his time devising new forms of sexual diversion.
Liz squealed and groaned, not because Maureen's slathering tongue brought her pain, but because the annoying tingle that spread from the rim of her ass was so intense. She was terribly afraid Maureen was right -- that they would make her like being sodomized. That they would turn her into a shameless wanton obsessed with obscene desires.
She clenched her jaw and cried, "Nnnooo! I won't give in. I won't let you make me enjoy this!"
Paul and Maureen both laughed, and the redhead gave Liz another languid swipe with her tongue. He grabbed his wife by the hair and pulled her away. "That's enough," he said. "If she's that upset, she's ready!"
Maureen squawked a faint sound of protest, but Paul hurled her off the bed. He said, "Watch, bitch! And get your own asshole hot. You're next. I'm into backsiding both of my lovelies tonight!"
He leaned forward on his knees and did with his bulging cockhead what Maureen had been doing with her tongue, lathering hot fuck honey around Liz's pussy slit and swiping it down to the rim of her asshole.
The young teacher shivered and squirmed with every stroke, tormented by the way her faithless body responded to obscene stimulation. Wrenching waves of pleasure spread wider than the moist trail of simmering sex juices being daubed from her cunt to her ass.
Liz felt the lewd tingle of anticipation in her fingers and toes. The taut, purple-rose colored rim of her ass tensed and surged. Then Paul pressed his bulbous cock knob deep into the crack.
She gulped and cried, "NO!" but her faithless flesh surrendered itself, relaxing and pulling with distraught desire. His cock started into her and spread shocks of hot pain worse than when her cherry was torn.
It was like the narrow, seething tunnel of her ass had a thousand cherries -- one every small fraction of an inch or so. The rings of muscle were all meant to push outward and expell waste from her bowels, but now their strength and natural rhythm worked in reverse. Her clinging butthole rippled and surged to suck his cock in.
When she tossed her head to the side in a swirl of silky dark hair, Liz could see herself on TV. But not part of herself she would have recognized normally. What she saw was four different views of her asshole, and that was something she'd never seen before -- something she never expected to see with a man's big cock steadily boring in.
The strangeness of it all made her skin tingle and glaze with warm sweat. She gasped and she moaned, wincing eyes shut so she would not have to watch. But some eerie fascination kept springing her eyes back open. Liz stared mute with her mouth gaping and watched Paul Morgan root his cock to the hilt in her clinging hole.
Pain burned deep and spread in depths of her crotch like the rings of ripples when a stone drops into a tranquil pond. She cried, "Oooh, God... it hurts. It hurts so good, I don't want you to stop! Fuck me, Paul! Fuck my ass! Make it hurt even more!"
Liz felt so perverted that she begged to be punished. In the last dark corner of her mind still able to function normally she thought torment might end her obscene addiction. When Paul began pumping his thick hot prick in and out, she wailed, "Faster! Ungh! Yes, run it deep! Fuck me hard, you monster! Hard as you can!"
Maureen sat in a chair and squiggled out of her split-crotch panties, fingering sleek oils from her pussy to ass. She gasped for breath, huffing like a steam engine. Paul's ass spearing cock looked to be eighteen inches long in the four close-ups flashed on the bank of TV screens. She ached to feel the real thing inside her and wished it was really that long.
The teacher turned martyr would have sworn that it was. She had never felt such an outrageous strain -- not even when John fucked her hard on the bed. John... that selfish bastard, taking her cherry and then taking his pleasure with an adoring young teen. She wished now that he was watching.
Paul strived for variety with his plunging dick thrusts. He slanted left one time, right the next. He lunged forward to plow the floor of her ass tube and then angled back to tingle the roof.
Liz responded with gasps and moans that varied with the way his cock drilled in. And despite the pain of being bent double, she began to writhe her ass opposite to his sinking thrusts. She arched and lifted up when he slanted down. She ground her ass cheeks into the mattress to sharpen the angle when he slanted down.
She swayed to the left when he went to the right, then wiggled her ass the other way. It all intensified his pleasure and her pain. But Liz saw pain as her only salvation. If ass fucking became an unbearable agony she would never be tempted to do it again.
Grunts of anguish burst from her lips. Her dazzled eyes fluttered wide but did not see. She babbled like a woman obsessed. "Fuck me!" she kept screaming. "Fuck my ass raw. I don't want to sit down for a week!"
Maureen giggled and said, "I knew she'd like it, Paul! Ream her ass. Ream her really good!"
"Grungh!" he groaned. "My God, I'm giving her all I've got! And the beautiful bitch still begs for more!"
"I want you to kill me," she cried. "Fuck me to death!"
Paul did his damndest to delight her depraved desires. He arched high and rammed down hard, twisting his cock in with all his might. For one frightening moment he thought he had fucked the life out of her. Liz stopped breathing and her face turned white as a sheet.
She felt her mind start to rise in a dizzying spiral, almost as though her spirit had left her body. Liz got a creepy feeling and thought, That's it. I've died and I'm going to heaven.
But orgasm is as close to heaven's eternal bliss as she got. She gasped sharply when the spasms began in her ass and spread to her pussy walls. Both tunnels of seething hot flesh clenched and pulsed with the frenzied contractions of climax.
Her desire to be pained and punished exploded into a shrill scream of joy and frustration. The powerful surges of pleasure made her eyes bulge and her mouth gape. Her ass felt battered and bruised, but all her heated fuck muscles kept clenching and straining in the exquisite torment of delight so intense that it caused pain.
Liz felt her breath choke and burn as the grinding spasms drained strength from the rest of her body. She felt lost in a fog of rapture, consumed by an ecstatic upheaval of emotion. Passion she could not have imagined erupted from the depths of her soul. She gave her writhing ass completely to Paul, and he took it with deeply satisfied grunts, roaring when his cock fired.
Silver-white cum jetted into her fiery hole in spurts so hot she expected to watch steam rise from her asshole. Liz felt the spread of liquid heat that made his cock glide more smoothly and she moaned all the time it took Paul to fuck his balls dry.
She fell limp beneath him, breathless and blind in eerie bliss. Liz would never know exactly what happened next. It was like drowning -- that strange sensation of drifting off. She awoke slouched in the chair where Maureen had been watching and wetting her own ripe ass.
Now she was on the bed, shackled as Liz had been with legs pulled up over her head... ass raised and crotch spread. The first clear vision Liz got was the bank of TV screens. Still dazed, she thought it was her ass Paul Morgan's cock burrowed into. Her tightly puckered rim still quivered with lingering aftershocks, and that enhanced the illusion.
A moment later, Liz realized she had been released, cast aside like an unwanted toy. She blinked and rubbed her wrists where the steel shackles had chafed her soft skin. When her mind cleared, she struggled to stand up and found her knees still weak.
Neither Paul nor Maureen seemed to notice her feeble efforts at first. They were fucking and murmuring love words like a young couple on their wedding night. Liz sadly shook her head and staggered to the door.
She stood outside in the hall for a moment, gasping to catch her breath. It was dark in the middle of the night and she was stark naked. Liz wandered out on the deck, avoiding the bar with that window in the floor that would have made her watch John Sylver with Shelly.
That was the last thing she wanted to see now. He could have her for all she cared. Liz only wanted to get away -- as far and as fast as she could. Chilled by a cold breeze off the sea, she walked to the stern of the boat in the moonlight, so lost in thought that she moved like a ghost.
She found her diving gear on the deck, still damp and now icy cold. But she began pulling on the wet suit. The clammy chill seemed to sharpen her senses. The boat was anchored in a cove no more than thirty yards from the shore.
Fully dressed with fins, snorkel and mask, she stood by the stern rail. The shoreline looked dark as a coal mine at midnight. Thick woods came right to the edge of a sandy little beach at the base of the cove -- a crescent of sand that sparkled in moon-light.
Liz gulped a deep breath, grabbed her mask to keep it from being ripped off and jumped feet-first into the sea. A shock of icy cold hit her like a hammer blow. For several seconds her muscles all seemed paralyzed by the shock, but she sucked another breath through the tube of her snorkel and swam toward the shore.
Behind, she saw the sinister white yacht with its lights aglow, one that shined down so she could see the name Temptress blazoned across the stern. She sighed, turned her head away and swam on.
Normally thirty yards would be an easy swim for her, but Liz was so tired and shaken that her arms and legs felt like lead. She swam a few strokes and made no progress at all. She could feel the tug of a strong current working to carry her away from the shore.
Feeling helpless in the grip of that unseen force aroused other fears. The sharp, choppy dark waves all began to look like shark fins circling and closing in. Liz sobbed gurgling noises into her snorkel, numb with fear and cold, so tired that she no longer had the strength or will to resist.
She rasped out her last breath of air and slipped beneath the swirling dark waves. A strange false sense of well-being occupied her mind. Like someone asleep and enjoying a pleasant dream, she imagined John Sylver rushing to save her as he did before.
Liz could feel his strong arms embrace her and feel his big cock surge with a loving pulse. But then the icy water snapped her mind back to reality. John wasn't there. She was alone, desperate and about to die.
The odd thing was, she didn't care.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A last desperate effort propelled Liz back to the surface. She swam with waning strength, south along the shore, out of the current that was carrying her out to sea. A cresting wave lifted and hurled her listless body toward the shore. It felt like a wild roller coaster ride -- slowly rising up, then dropping fast, tossing and turning until she did not know which way was up.
Her trailing legs finally touched the sandy bottom and she gasped a cry of relief, stumbling forward to sprawl on the beach at the base of the cove. White and sparkled in the moonlight. Behind her, lights on the yacht Temptress gleamed against the black night sky.
Liz crawled on her hands and knees, across the beach and up a grassy little knoll. It was warmer there, sheltered from the chilling breeze. She slumped and fell asleep, settling deep in a dreamless void. She felt the warming glow of the rising sun hours later and began to stir, slowly blinking sleep from her misty blue eyes, stretching her aching muscles and yawning to feed more oxygen to her dulled brain.
The long white yacht looked stately and serene in the morning light, nothing like the menacing spector she'd been so frantic to escape from the night before. Crewmen in white sailor's outfits were moving on deck.
Liz watched them sleepy-eyed until her fears came rushing back. A dingy bobbed in the water at the base of the gangway and one of the men was untying the small boat's mooring line. She moaned half under her breath, "They're coming after me!" A cold shiver jarred the last sleepy cobwebs from her senses.
She dragged her legs up and kicked off her swim fins. A dense forest of pines and firs rimmed the cove. The highway could not be far beyond. It ran close to the shore along most of the coast. She could find the road and walk back to where she'd parked her car to go diving the day before. The crewmen did not seem to be watching the shore, but Liz was careful not to draw attention to herself. She crawled to the edge of the woods, dragging her floppy swim fins with one hand. Once hidden from view by the towering tree trunks and clumps of brush that grew on the forest floor, she straightened up and walked east toward the rising sun.
Slivers of sunlight filtered through the lacework of branches intertwined over her head. She followed a narrow, crooked little path, probably a deer trail. Still weak and stumbling, she lurched from one tree to the next, pausing to lean against the rough-barked trunks to rest and catch her breath.
She kept looking back at the yacht, fearful until the dense forest almost screened it from view. Then she turned her attention to the narrow path and moved faster, gathering strength when it seemed she had made her escape. Liz didn't see another man watching her intently.
He was hidden thirty yards ahead in a leafy. tangle of brush, dressed from head to toe in mottled green, brown, black and tan camouflage clothing that perfectly matched the foliage all around. Even a wary deer would not have seen him.
A stretchy, gauze-like camouflage mask covered his face. He spoke into a walkie-talkie radio also mottled with multi-colored blotches of green and brown. "There's a bandit on the beach trail," he whispered hoarsely. "A fucking frogman from the boat that's been cruising back and forth off shore."
"Just one intruder?" asked the answering voice over a faint hiss of static.
"One's all I can see here. They've hauled up the dingy and raised the anchor. Looks like they're getting underway."
"A diversion," the radio voice said sternly. "If the frogman tries to cross our defense perimeter... waste him!"
"Roger." The camouflaged sentry shouldered an M-16 assault rifle and eyed the approaching figure through its telescopic sight.
Liz paused on the trail to pull off the clinging damp hood of her wet suit. Long waves of radiant dark brown hair spilled free, sparking in broken rays of sunlight scattered by the tangle of branches far over her head.
The hidden watcher muttered, "Holy shit!" and brought the radio back to his lips. "That frogman is a froglady," he said. "A living doll!"
"If she heads for our garden, don't let her go on living."
Liz had no idea what she'd stumbled into. Growing marijuana is big business in remote, sparsely settled parts of northern California. Plantations are hidden in the woods -- hidden from spotter planes flown by the law, hidden from rip-off artists who try to steal crops worth a fortune from the growers who plant and tend the illegal gardens.
It has become a quiet, deadly little war. Plantations are guarded by Vietnam vets with automatic weapons. Lethal booby traps line woodland paths near the hidden plantations. Crops of high-grade marijuana buds can be worth a million dollars or more if not found by the law or ripped off by ruthless drug thieves more feared than anyone with a badge and a warrant.
The watcher said, "Jeeezuz... I can't shoot a woman! Not one like this. She's long, sleek and sexy! I'm talking about prime pussy! Grade double-A fuck meat wandering around like she's lost."
"Well, then -- " The radio voice paused to reconsider. "Bring her in, good buddy. Let's have a little fun and find out why that big white boat has been hanging around here for so long."
Liz tossed and fluffed her long waves of moist hair, feeling better now. She started forward again, taking longer, more determined strides. Then a sudden, sharp metallic click jarred her senses, the sound of a rifle bolt slamming home.
A threatening, unseen voice said, "Freeze! Don't move a muscle. Don't even blink!"
"Whhha?" Liz gasped, first thinking that one of Paul Morgan's crewman had somehow gotten ahead of her. Her frightened eyes darted around the edge of a small clearing fringed with clumps of brush.
She saw nothing until the man stood up -- aiming a sinister looking automatic rifle at her chest. He wasn't one of the crewmen from the yacht, not dressed in bizarre camouflage that even veiled his face. "I -- I'm just trying to find the road," she said nervously.
He chuckled softly. "Sure, lady. And maybe find our garden along the way?"
"Garden?" Liz had no idea what he was talking about.
"Yeah, so your friends in that big white boat can come back and rip us off at harvest time?"
Liz gave him a blank look. When he said garden she thought of people growing vegetables or flowers. Nothing anyone would want to steal. Nothing that would have to be guarded by an armed man dressed for jungle warfare.
"The people on that boat aren't my friends," she said in a quaking voice. "I jumped overboard last night to get away from them."
He gave her a quizical look and motioned toward the sea with his rifle. "Looks like you did that all right. They're sailing away."
She looked back and saw the Temptress underway, heading north with a broad V wake spreading behind. But she was too worried about the man with the gun to feel relief. He said, "Take off that wet suit, sweetheart. I want to see what you look like underneath."
"N-n-no," she said incredulously. "Who are you?" Until he told her to undress, Liz thought he might be a soldier on some kind of training exercise. "What gives you the right to -- " He smirked back of his gauze-like camouflage mask and aimed the rifle at the center of her chest. "Folks call me Spider," he said. "For webs I weave. You see what's across the trail about two feet from where you're standing?"
Liz looked and saw nothing. He gestured down with the gun barrel, then she saw it -- a thin strand of monofilament fishing line stretched taut across the narrow track about three inches off the ground.
Sight of the clear, almost invisible line sent a fearsome shiver up her spine. "You trip that and a grenade goes boom," he said. "It would scatter your ass all over these woods. Now get the suit off, baby! Spider wants to see what's caught in his web."
Cringing fear left her too weak to resist. Liz could only think that she'd blundered into another nightmare. She gritted her teeth and heaved a sad moan, slowly inching down the zipper of her wet suit jacket.
Spider watched with dark eyes glinting back of his camouflage mask. She grimly bared her firm, sharp-peaked breasts and stood trembling. "Nice!" he said with an anxious rush of breath. "Better than I thought. That rubber suit doesn't do you justice."
Justice? Liz almost laughed. There was no justice -- not if an innocent young woman had to face so much danger and shameful humiliation in a short time. She had barely escaped from drowning and being eaten by a shark. Then she was cruelly used for sexual pleasure by a millionaire playboy with no morals at all. And now, she thought with a whimpering sob... now I've stumbled into something even worse.
Liz was deathly afraid of guns. She remembered the thundering roar and bullets ripping into the body of that shark, how it streamed blood and thrashed in its death throes. Blind with fright, she stripped off her wet suit and stood naked with a slanting ray of sunlight striped across her pussy mound.
Spider came out of the tangle of brush, carefully avoiding the trip. string set to detonate a grenade. He pulled off his mask to reveal a craggy, hard-lined face with a smirking grin. "Now you wanna see what I got for you?" he asked smugly, holding the rifle in the crook of one arm while reaching for the zipper of his fly with the other hand.
She stammered, "N-n-no," and staggered back a step or two, lurching off the narrow path.
"Careful!" he warned. "There's pungee sticks all along the trail."
Liz stopped and stared down at needle-like slivers of bamboo stuck in the ground along both sides of the trail. There were dozens of them all the same height as the wild grass, unseen until she looked hard. Anyone diving off the trail for cover would be skewered like shishkabob.
"Wh -- what's going on here?" she asked in a faltering voice. "What kind of garden needs so much protection?" Liz hoped to keep him talking, to keep his mind off the twitching cock she could see swelling hard in the crotch of his camouflaged jumpsuit.
"Weed," he told her, inching the zippered fly down.
"Weed?" Liz never used drugs of any kind and did not associate with people who did. To her, a weed is something you pull out of a garden, not take such pains to protect.
"Pot," he said to explain another way, working a rough, gnarled hand into his open fly. "Marijuana. Pure, potent buds. Sensimilla. Mendocino Gold."
"Oooh!" Being a teacher, Liz had heard a little about marijuana being grown in the north state. Federal, state and county narcotics officers waged a relentless war against the growers, uprooting hidden plantations whenever they could find one. But experts estimated that at least half the illegal crop still found its way to market -- processed buds worth so many millions of dollars that growing marijauna was said to be California's third largest cash crop.
He saw the fearful light of understanding flash in her blue eyes and said, "Now you know why we can't let you wander around in these woods."
"But I just want to get away," she said in a sad wailing voice. I don't know where your plants are. I don't care! I won't come back. Please... I'm a teacher."
"A teacher? No shit? I didn't have any teachers sexy as you when I was in school." Then he broke off laughing at the tought. "If I did, I'd still be in the sixth grade."
His burrowing hand pulled out a meaty big cock that looked to be at least ten inches long -- bigger than even what Long John Sylver was so proud of. What Long John was probably giving to young Shelly right now. She winced her eyes shut and pleaded, "No, don't do this to me. Just let me go!"
"I can't do that while my dick's hard," he answered with sad, pretended concern. "You make it soft and I'll think about it."
"W -w-what do you want me to do?"
"Start by sucking me off. I wanna cum in that pretty face of yours, teacher." His anxious voice twisted the last word into a slur. The man who called himself Spider did not like teachers. Did not like them at all!
Getting poor grades in high school kept him out of college, so he was drafted and sent to fight in Vietnam while kids with better grades got deferments. Spider was still bitter about that. He snarled, "Suck my cock, teacher. Teach me something I didn't learn from the sexy little slant-eyed whores in Saigon."
Spider was bitter about that too. His girlfriend married a guy in college while he was overseas getting shot at in a stinking rice paddy. And he didn't come home to a hero's welcome. Nam vets were considered outcasts -- demented killers of women and kids. It wasn't right, but that's the way it was.
Liz gritted her teeth, dropped to her knees and leaned forward thinking, What the hell... it's not like this was the first time. And sight of his huge dick throbbing before her eyes was exciting. She felt that eerie tingle of desire start racing up her spine.
She curled her right hand around the thick hot shaft at the root, puckered her lips and pressed forward. Long John could have his fucking teenage slut. Liz had found a cock bigger than his. She kissed the rubbery head of it and swept her tongue up and down on the tip to tease the cum slit.
"Hunnngh," Spider groaned, delighted by the sucking passion he felt surge the whole length of his cock. He dropped the rifle and clasped both hands back of her head, pulling her further onto the shaft.
Liz sucked and rippled her tongue along the tender underside of his cock until the fat knobbed head pressed to the back of her mouth. She gulped, took a deep breath and tipped her head back to let him enter her throat.
Spider gasped, "Oooh, you're a good teacher! Real good, baby! We might keep you until harvest time!"
She seemed not to hear or care that he was talking about keeping her a prisoner. Liz was enthralled by the hot throbbing vigor of his big cock pulsing and straining her slinky throat. The rush of unwanted pleasure dulled her other senses.
Gulping and groaning, she swayed on her knees in the grip of wild passion. She plunged forward and nibbled her lips to the root of his dick. The coarse zipper teeth of his open fly pressed cold and hard against her soft lips. Liz reached her hands up and loosened his heavy web belt.
His camouflage pants slid down. She tugged at the elastic band on his undershorts as her lips pulled back. His hot, springy big cock slipped out of confinement. Liz gasped and leaned back, gazing in awe, gripped by emotions beyond her control.
She loved his throat-swelling cock and wantonly displayed her desire by sucking and swirling her adoring tongue around his huge, clefted ball of flesh at its head. "Yyyuuummm," she purred, pressing forward again.
"Hhhooo!" Spider expected timid, half-hearted cock sucking from a beautiful bitch he'd just taken captive at the point of a gun. Nothing prepared him for the passionate pull of her nibbling lips or the anxious way her tongue teased and rippled beneath his swollen cum pipe.
She gurgled anxious, choked animal noises with her lips buried in his dense, sweaty dark tangle of cock hair. Then Liz brought her hands up again. His cupped palms filled with soft waves of her silky long hair. Spider hissed and moaned, straining to keep his balls from erupting their heavy load.
Liz added to his straining delight by cupping the big orbs in a silken tangle of mink-soft hair. Her fingertips twirled to entice his weighty nuts. She could feel them quiver and pulse with the heat of a heavy load.
The idea of sucking and swallowing a man's jetting cum no longer filled her mind with dread. She wanted to feel the gushing spurts go deep. Debauching herself with a sinister stranger would help flush away her bitter memories of John Sylver and free her anguished mind at last.
She sucked and made hungry gurgling noises while her fingertips tenderly worked his dangling balls to eruption. "Unnngh!" he groaned, aching to prolong the delight of her heated lips and clinging throat.
But Liz increased the urgent passion of unleashed desire. She rippled the sleek hollow of her throat with gulping motions and teased his nuts until Spider let go with a roar. He clamped his hands hard on the back of her head and jerked forward to bury her lips in his cock hair, gushing jism from the head that lodged deep like the tip of a well-digger's drill.
The first creamy spurt rocked her back despite the pull of his strong hands. She gurgled a wet moan and kept sucking, gulping to swallow the sticky hot blast. Spider fired the next one into her mouth. It was briny as seawater, but thick and rich tasting as a savory sauce.
Liz managed a lewd grin even with her mouth stuffed full of hairy-rooted dick. She bobbed her head back and forth in a frenzy, looking like a woodpecker with the shaft of his glistening cock in place of a long pointed beak.
Spider had never enjoyed the delights of dick sucking with a woman who took fiendish delight in swallowing his cum. He rasped and moaned raptured sighs, jerking her head back and forth by the hair, grinding his meaty big cock in with all his might.
Liz felt dizzy, dazed by his verile strength and seemingly endless spurts of hot jism. They flooded her anxious mouth and made her cheeks puff. Her tongue rippled in the rising tide of delicious salt-sweet jism that dribbled from her lips.
Silvery drops fell and splattered on her firm, heaving tits, sparkling like wet pearls in the silvery beam of sunlight slanting across her chest. Spider released his grip on her head and slid his hands down to fondle those proud, cum-splashed cones of luscious woman-flesh.
He twirled her nipples, thumbs and fingers gliding smoothly on a slick film of jism. Liz moaned and gurgled strangled cries of delight. The tremors of another great climax had begun. Orgasm was her great escape. She welcomed the intense contractions that surged from her loins with such force she could feel them in her fingers and toes.
She. kept sucking and stroking his balls like a greedy wanton, gulping and swallowing all she could. But Spider's big cock was a fountain of lewd pleasure that gushed more than she could get down. More silvery bubbles of cum slipped from her sucking lips and splashed down on her breasts.
If she had been able to stand back and watch, Liz would have been shocked and appalled by her lusty hunger for cum. But she was lost in the convulsive waves of climax that churned like a storm-tossed sea, carrying her further and further from all normal concern.
Liz soared to the eerie peak of release and hungrily sucked his last drop with a delighted sigh. Spider swayed on his feet, so weak-kneed he could hardly stand up. She slumped back and let his cock slide out of her mouth.
Silvery jism glossed her lips. They curved into a dazed and delighted lewd grin, dripping cum that she licked up with languid swipes of her tongue. Spider said, "God damn... if you fuck like you suck, I ain't never gonna let you go."
Still lost in the rapturous glow of orgasm, Liz grinned wet-lipped and said, "I fuck better than I suck. I like nothing better than a big thick cock ripping into me -- " Then she broke off laughing distracted and unconcerned. "Did you know I was a virgin this time yesterday morning?"
"You're shitting me," Spider said flatly.
"No, it's true. I was fucked the first time and almost eaten by a shark."
"Yeah?" Spider was used to women babbling bullshit while they basked in the afterglow of orgasm. "Well, you're about to get eaten again, teacher. I love to suck sweet cunt before I stick my cock in."
"Hhhmmm, good. I like that too. Eat me while my pussy is still hot and wet. Put your tongue in and feel my torn cherry, then fill me with cock!"
In a rational state of mind, Liz would not have recognized her own voice -- and certainly would not have believed what she just said. Her tone deepened to a husky purr and she begged for cock like a shameless whore.
For one brief moment she looked sad and strickened, wondering if that is what she'd be come.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Spider fucked Liz on a sunny patch of ground at the edge of the clearing, grunting deep in his throat and drilling his cock into her. She howled and screamed as her pussy clenched, kicking her heels and arching beneath him as the spasms of climax began.
His hammering thrusts purged her mind and body of bitter memories. She forgot Long John Sylver and focused all her energy on a thrilling new dick that chafed and tattered the torn remains of her cherry, making it seep tiny speckles of blood that smeared his long shaft.
"Oooh, baby!" he moaned. "Hump that sweet cunt at me! Make it good! I haven't had a real woman in a long time."
"And I've never had a real man," she told him. There was something strangely exciting about this man with a gun. His power over her was more compelling than the romantic attraction she'd felt with John Sylver.
Liz shivered and wailed, writhing and bucking her hips to a new height of orgasmic delight. Neither of them noticed, but her flailing left foot came dangerously near a throat of monofilament fishing line that boobytrapped the trail.
She gave a final shrilling cry of rapture and kicked wildly as the convulsive tremors of climax spread from her pussy to her fingers and toes. "Aaaggghhh!" Liz groaned, clawing the ground. She stretched, and her toes hit the almost invisible strand. It was an improvised boobytrap -- one of the tricks taught to thousands of men like Spider in jungle warfare classes. An M2 fragmentation grenade with the safety pin already pulled was pushed inside a snug fitting tin can tied in a clump of brush. The can kept the safety lever from flying off.
But Liz kicked the trip line in spasms of rapture. It was tied to the neck of the grenade so that a slight tug popped it out of the can. The striker spring hurled the spoon-like safety level away and continued through its arc to ignite the fuse.
Spider heard it snap and moaned, "Oooh shit!." He pressed down flat as he could on the woman who bucked and squirmed in ecstatic delight. He winced and covered his ears just as the sputtering fuse burned down to the detonator. The grenade exploded with a ground-shaking `whooomp' and hurled deadly fragments of searing hot metal in all directions.
Liz heard the thundering noise and felt the ground shake beneath her. But she took it to be part of her explosive orgasm. The hiss of lethal metal shards was no louder than her last steaming rush of breath expelled in ecstasy.
"Oooh, God! I never came so hard before!" she cried. Her ears were still ringing and she looked dazed by the echoing tremors.
"You damn near fucked us both to death," he said, breathless and thankful the exploding fragments had flown over them without harm.
"Even the ground trembled," she sighed in weary bliss.
"A God damned grenade went off the same time you did," he snarled.
Her eyes widened into a strickened look. "A g-ggrenade?"
"It's lucky you don't have more bleeding than a torn cherry. Could have fragged your fucking head right off!"
"Oh, Jeeez!" The chill of reality rushed back. She was a captive again -- caught by a man far more dangerous than Paul Morgan and his lewd wife. Liz shuddered as he climbed off of her and reached for his gun.
"Get up, bitch!" The other guys are gonna want a piece of you."
She cried, "No, please... let me go. I won't tell anyone what you're doing here. I -- I don't even know where we are for sure."
He grabbed her arm and yanked Liz to her feet then tucked his sated cock away. "And you aren't gonna know until after the harvest," he said. "You're gonna cook for us, fuck for us and suck for us until then. "Three horny guys, baby. That oughtta be enough for even a nympho like you."
"I'm not a nympho," she wailed. But Spider laughed in retort and dragged her down the trail.
"Watch that God damn trip line," he said stepping high over another almost invisible strand of monofilament.
Liz wept and moaned, stumbling behind him, tempted to kick the taut line and end it all with a thundering roar. But she lifted her feet to go on -- toward what she didn't want to think. And why she didn't want to know. Maybe she was a nympho just as Spider.had said.
They followed a crooked little path through the woods and passed small clearings where scattered marijuana plants grew under camouflage nets. "The narc's fly air-recon missions all the time," Spider explained. "They've even got a fucking U-2 spy plane up so high we can't see it coming."
Then he laughed. "But Uncle Sam taught us all how to take care of ourselves. What we learned in Nam will pay us a million bucks when we harvest this crop."
"A million dollars?" she gasped, passing another hidden patch that looked like nothing but spindly weeds.
"Yeah," Spider said, still chuckling. "Funny, ain't it? Farmers are going broke all over the country... and we get rich growing this shit."
"But drugs are illegal," she protested weakly.
"So was booze when they passed prohibition. Look what a fucking mess that turned into. Al Capone and guys like that got rich because people still wanted to drink. That stupid law created organized crime. Now it's the same damn thing all over again."
"But drugs are dangerous," she said.
"And alcohol is a drug. So is nicotine in cigarettes... they're legal."
Liz was in no shape for serious discussion, and she did not think it wise to argue with a man like Spider. She sighed and stumbled behind him, dragged along by one outstretched arm.
He took her to the mouth of the cave in the face of a rocky cliff, a narrow arch hidden behind a clump of brush. Two armed men in full camouflage sat waiting -- their automatic weapons aimed at the door.
One was tall and lean as a swaying palm. The other was short and squat, hunched and leering like troll. "That's Snake and Grunt," Spider said with a nod each way as they entered the cave.
Liz took one look and knew the other two were half stoned. She never used drugs, but had seen enough kids in her classes who did. They had that full, dreamy-eyed look that was part unconcern and part paranoia.
"What the fuck happened out there?" the tall, sinewy one called Snake asked, sucking hard on a hand-rolled cigarette that filled the shadowy cave with a faintly sweet smell something like burning hemp rope. "She kicked off one of the booby traps when she climaxed," Spider explained, laughing as though it was all a big joke. "Hey, gimme a hit."
"Sure, buddy. Gimme the bitch." Spider's beady dark eyes inched over the naked teacher's lithe body and settled ,on her cum-dripping cunt slit. He had a gaunt, hard-lined face with a stubble of rough beard that poked through the mottled gauze web of his camouflage mask.
Spider took a hit, wincing in rapture as he pulled on the joint and held mind-warping smoke deep in his lungs for as long as he could. Then he said to Liz, "Toke on this. It'll make you feel better."
"I -- I don't smoke," she said in a tense voice. It was awful to stand naked while the three of them stared at her. The one called Grunt remained hunched and silent as a stone.
"It's some of last year's crop," Spider went on, offering her the joint. "Prime stuff! It'll loosen your mind. Set your head free -- " Liz would never know what moved her hand to reach out. But it did. She put the moist end of the twisted joint between her trembling lips and took a little puff, not daring to inhale.
"Haaagggh!" she coughed and felt her throat burn. But she sucked in some of the smoke through her nose and felt a mild, calming effect. She took another hit and inhaled, starting to sway like Snake as a feeling of euphoria dulled all her concerns.
Grunt smirked like an evil dwarf and said, "Ungh mugh gunagh fugh her gud."
Spider took back the joint for another hit and translated as he exhaled. "Grunt says he's gonna fuck you good. He can't hardly talk because a hunk of shrapnel tore out most of his voice box in Nam."
Then Liz saw the jagged scar that half-ringed his throat and shivered in sympathy. Grunt just kept staring at her, lips tightly curled in a lewd grin.
"He ain't had a woman in years," Spider said. "The pretty ones like you all want a guy to whisper sweet nothings -- ain't that right?"
Snake stepped toward her, hands reaching out. Liz gasped and tried to back away, but Spider yanked her arm and hurled her into the tall man's clinging embrace. His long arms circled her slender waist with wrists crossed in the small of her back. His hands reached down and clamped hard on the cheeks of her ass.
She gasped, too startled to speak. "Ain't that right?" he asked again, nibbling her ear. Liz trembled in his arms when she felt his hot breath. "You want me to say you're so beautiful... that I'm falling in love."
"Hungh?" she sobbed. Liz had wanted to hear John Sylver say he loved her -- now Snake was making a calloused joke of that compelling female emotion.
"You sound like fucking Grunt!" he said, whispering the words of contempt in her ear. "Can't you talk? Can't you tell me how much you want my cock?"
"Nungh!" she cried, shaking her head, trying to twist away from the moist warmth of his nibbling lips and sense-dulling haze of marijuana smoke he exhaled beside her head.
"She's a teacher," Spider said. "Really up tight."
"So take another toke, teacher. Let your mind unwind while I whip out my dick."
Liz took the short smoldering joint and sucked on it with a fearful need. She pulled hard and sucked the smoke deep, holding it in her lungs as long as she could. An eerie feeling of bliss swept away her fears and feelings of deep disgust.
Unsteady on her feet, she swayed while watching Snake undress. He stripped off all but the camouflage mask and his combat boots. Stark naked between, the sight of him struck her as funny. Liz giggled like a silly girl.
Snake's cock wasn't much bigger around than her thumb, but it lanced out more than a foot from his bony loins. It looked to be at least fourteen inches long. Liz gulped and vaguely remembered part of an anti-drug lecture she was required to teach at the school. Smoking pot distorts perception she recalled. His cock could not be that long! Not really.
She giggled and smirked, sucking on the joint again. The smoldering end burned close to her fingers. She yelped and let it drop. Spider picked it up with a roach clip and took another hit, burning it down to almost nothing at all.
Grunt watched them, waiting his turn, rolling another joint to pass the time. Snake gripped her upper arms and turned Liz toward an old Army cot set against the wall. "Come on, baby... you're gonna love my long, skinny old dick up your ass."
"Not my ass," she cried, but Liz was so dazed that she couldn't stop giggling.
"Yeah, your ass is mine, and I got a rod long enough to tickle your chin."
He pushed her onto the cot, head down on her hands and knees. Liz shuddered with loathing but still could not stop giggling. "How long is it really?" she asked in a dazed tone.
"You tell me, baby." Snake wet the head of it in her crotch, kneeling behind her while Spider and Grunt watched like two guilty school boys playing some prank.
"I can't tell with just the head of it tickling my clit," she said, playfully scolding in a giddy tone. One deep part of her mind remained clear. Liz knew she was not acting normally, but she didn't care.
Grunt toked the fresh joint and suddenly leaped up, babbling guttural noises. He stripped off his clothes, starting with the camouflage jacket, baring a barrel-like chest layered with wiry dark hair.
Snake listened to the torrent of rumbling grunts, idly teasing the head of his long skinny dick in the kneeling teacher's cunt slit. "Agh wungh her tungh!" Grunt said urgently, pulling down his pants.
"All right," Snake said. "But you gotta hurry."
"What's he trying to say?" Liz asked curiously.
Spider walked around to the head end of the cot and grinned down at her, taking a deep drag on the joint Grunt had just rolled. "He said, I want her, too. Like both of them at once."
"Both?" Liz croaked with eyes darting. Grunt had a short, hugely thick cock that barely stuck beyond a wiry bramble of black pubic hair. The ruddy knobbed head of it looked like a clenched fist.
"Yeah both," Spider said casually. "You ever do two guys at the same time?"
"No, never." Her face paled. Liz felt dizzy, like she might be sick.
"Now's a good time to start," Snake told her, wagging his willowy cock in her crotch with one hand while reaching for the joint with the other.
Snake took a deep puff and passed the joint forward to Liz. "Take another hit, honey. It'll make you feel better when you've got two dicks in you at once."
Liz raised up on her knees and Grunt sprawled on the cot, on his back with legs spread wide around hers. The head of his stubby thick cock stuck straight up. She pulled on the joint and held her breath, savoring the blissful sensation of euphoria that swept through her senses.
Snake put his hands on her back and pushed Liz down on hands and knees. She bridged over Grunt who looked like a slobbering grizzly bear. The lithe young teacher had never seen such a hairy man in her whole life.
Spider said, "I don't think two cocks will be enough for her. Why don't I feed her mine at the same time?"
"Go for it," Snake said.
"Yungh!" Grunt agreed, happily nodding his shaggy head.
Liz cried, "Nnnooo," not sure yet what the lewd trio had in mind, but certain she wouldn't like it... even if she was half stoned.
Spider had his cock in his hand, wagging it up and down before her soft lips. Snake took aim at the crack of her ass and started to sink his slender long shaft into the tight hollow rimmed with dark puckered flesh.
"Hhhooo!" Liz howled, dropping on Grunt and his stubby dick as Snake pressed down. "Aaaggghhh!" She had one long, twitching cock sinking into her asshole and a painfully thick one prodding the puffed lips of her cunt.
"You're the sweet-meat in a fuck sandwich," Spider said. "And I want my dick sucked while they fuck you back and forth." He smiled and pushed his cockhead into her gaping mouth.
Hazy but still rational thoughts flashed through her mind like lurid visions emerging from the fog of euphoria. Liz could think of nothing more sinful, shameful and degrading than taking three men into her innocent body at once.
Snake's skinny cock was seven or eight inches up her ass and still sinking deeper. Grunt's thick prod strained her pussy lips to spark pain and tingled her clit in a way that made her enjoy it, and Spider was sticking his sweaty hot dick in her mouth.
Her sense of time was distorted. It seemed to take hours for them to get all their lusty male flesh in position. Snake's long dick touched nerves in the tight, dark tunnel of her writhing ass that no man had ever touched -- and he was still boring deeper, sighing ecstatically when her quivering ass muscles clenched and swirled around his hot prick.
Grunt's hairy chest tickled her swollen nipples. He humped and poked his straining thick cock as deep as it would reach. The bloated head of it barely touched the rim of her torn cherry. There it lodged, grating tender flesh as it was rocked back and forth by his short, quick thrusts.
Liz made sad moaning noises that gushed warm breath around Spider's cock in her mouth. He said, "Oooh, I love the way you play the skin flute! Give me a hummer, hot lips."
"What's a hummer?" she croaked.
Snake hilted his cock in her squirming asshole and said, "Hum a tune on his dick, darling."
Liz giggled with her mouth stuffed full of throbbing cock. He wanted music while his dick was sucked? That seemed like the silliest thing she'd ever heard. But smoking marijuana for the first time in her life made Liz feel silly and unconcerned. She started to hum "Mary Had a Little Lamb" while Spider hunched on his knees at the head of the cot and fucked his cock in and out of her mouth.
But Liz got the lyrics of the old nursery rhyme mixed up in her mind. She kept saying, Mary had a little ram. Poor Mary. Only one little ram? Liz had three in her at once. Snake burned the untouched depths. of her shithole with sweltering heat and long, deep-reaming thrusts.
His weight pushed her down harder on Grunt's thick cock. He fucked it up at her like a battering ram -- short, stabbing thrusts that made her want to scream wailing cries of agonized delight. But Liz could only gurgle and moan and try to keep humming while Spider fucked her pretty face.
The haze of smoke that blurred all her senses made the shocking sensations of three cocks at once seem strangely prolonged -- like slow motion. And though dazed bleary-eyed, some of her tingling nerve ends seemed far more sensitive than ever before.
She could clearly feel three separate pulses. Spider's cock surged with a staccato beat. Grunt's had a slower, ponderous rhythm like a booming bass drum. Spider's, in her mouth, was erratic -- wild and fast for a moment, then wondrously slow and sensuous on the next thrust.
Three cocks at once. Mouth, pussy and ass. And Liz was responding to all their rhythms. She furrowed her brow in intense concentration. Now smoking pot seemed to make her able to think more clearly, with a sharp kind of focus powerful as a laser beam.
Liz slowly rippled her clinging ass muscles to contrast with Snake's rapid, insistent throb. She quickened the pulsing grip of her strained cunt to entice Grunt's slow, thunderous cock surges. And she hummed a varied tune on Spider's cock in her mouth -- wildly increasing the tempo when he thrust languidly, purring deep and taking it slow when he hammered her lips with violent thrusts.
Liz had never felt in such control of her emotions or her physical being. She never could have managed three varied and complex rhythms before, but now it seemed easy.
Her mind had soared to some new level she had never dared try before. Being stoned half out of her skull left behind the last of her shy, timid inhibitions. She rocked and swayed between Grunt and Snake and lunged hungrily to swallow Spider's big cock when he humped it down her rippling throat.
They all came together in one cataclysmic orgasm. Liz saw herself as a mermaid -- the centerpiece of a fountain she had seen somewhere. But the spurting jets of this fountain were all shooting into her, not out.
She took Grunt's thick, sticky cum into her cunt and it soothed her torn cherry. She took Snake's spitting hot jets deep in her asshole and felt his long ram glide so much more smoothly. And she greedily gulped the salt-sweet cream Spider shot into her mouth.
The taste entranced her now. She sensed supple hints of flavor she'd missed before. A delightful tang to offset the creamy, mellow taste. Liz loved sucking his cum and realized then that all men have a slightly different taste.
She could hardly wait to suck off Grunt and Snake to see what delicate new flavors their balls might hold. But first she wanted another joint -- Liz needed the haze of smoke that somehow dulled timid fears and sharpened all her long-neglected female senses.
CHAPTER NINE
Liz awoke sleepy-eyed, vaguely aware of a dull "whumm-whumm" sound in the distance somewhere above. She thought at first it was the throbbing of her own temples. Spider, Snake and Grunt got her really stoned the night before. She fucked and sucked best in the marijauna haze... and they had plenty from last year's crop.
She sat up and pressed her hands on her temples, trying to stop the droaning noise, but it grew louder and more annoying. "Aaagggh!" she howled. "Make it stop! Somebody roll me a joint!"
But Spider, Snake and Grunt paid no attention to her. They scrambled off their cots in the cave, pulling on camouflage outfits and grabbing the automatic weapons that were never far out of reach. "It's a raid!" she heard Snake shout. "Jeeezus Fucking Christ... why now when we're ready to harvest?"
Harvest? Liz knew Spiker said that was months away when she arrived. How long had she been with them? A week, maybe? She couldn't recall. She had been stoned ever since that first day. Now it felt like she had an awful hangover. That droaning noise grew louder and seemed to be coming from all sides.
Her head finally cleared enough to recognize the sound. Helicopters. The men had talked about marijauna raids that were run like military operations. Nam vets on the other side of the law flew choppers now loaded with narc's.
Spider, Snake and Grunt ran from the cave mouth clutching their weapons just like soldiers fighting a war. She stood and watched their camouflaged figures vanish into the undergrowth.
A chopper landed in the clearing just outside the cave, swirling a cloud of dust as it set down. More men in camouflage battle dress jumped out. She heard the chatter of gunfire and pulled back from the cave door.
Liz scrambled around to find clothes the three pot growers had given her. Snake's faded fatigue pants and jacket fit her all right -- a bit long and baggy, but they had to do. And Grunt's jungle boots. They were too wide and raised blisters at first, so she went barefoot most of three months. Three months? Could she have stayed with them that long?
She couldn't remember. Three cocks, yes. They had taken her in every possible combination -- none Liz would have allowed with her head on straight.
Spider's long thin cock was best for ass fucking. Grunt's short thick cock was the best to suck because it barely reached the back of her mouth. She could slather the whole length of it with her rippling tongue. And Spider's big but more normally proportioned cock felt best in her cunt.
Now all three of them were fighting in a crazy war to get rich growing an illegal weed. Paul Morgan and Long John Sylver weren't a lot different. Their dream was sunken treasure, a fortune in gold. Why were men so obsessed with wealth she had to wonder, hurriedly running a comb through her silky long hair.
Silky? No, it was like a tangled rat's nest. Liz gazed in shock at her reflection in a cracked mirror hanging on the cave wall. "My God, I look awful!" she cried. Months of fucking, sucking and smoking dope had taken a heavy toll.
Sobbing hysterically, Liz ran out of the cave as another helicopter landed in the clearing just long enough to let off another team of heavily armed drug agents. She heard the sharp, staccato crack of gunfire and the blast of a boobytrap hand grenade.
That brought a grin to taut lips. Liz remembered setting one off when she came to her first climax with Spider. But that hint of a smile quickly faded. This time the explosion might have meant death. An icy shock of fear pulsed through her veins.
Liz got away from the cave because the narc's were all chasing the three armed men. Bursts of gunfire came from further away -- behind her as she ran blindly through the woods. Even if Spider, Snake and Grunt managed to escape, their crop would be confiscated and destroyed -- their dreams of wealth ruined. Sheriff's deputies armed with shotguns were coming through the woods in Jeeps.
She ran with her lungs burning, shocked by fear and sight of herself in the mirror. Now Liz didn't want the joint her body so craved when she woke up. In fact, she wanted nothing to do with dope ever again.
After twenty minutes of frantic flight through the woods and tangled undergrowth, Liz stumbled onto the coast highway. Clawing branches had torn her clothes, scratched her face and snarled her hair worse than before. She began to sob, thinking what an awful sight she must be -- a nympho junkie running away from the law. "How could I sink so low?" she cried aloud to no one at all.
Liz thought of going north to the cove where she'd parked her car to go diving when summer began. But that was three months ago, maybe more. A car abandoned that long would have been stolen, stripped or towed away. No sense trying to find it now. She had to get away -- as fast and far away as she could. If the drug raiders caught her, she'd go to jail as an accomplice... about the only thing Liz could think of worse than what she'd been through already.
She heard a car heading south and hid in the brush until it crested the hill and she could see that it wasn't a police car. The fear of arrest and going to jail paled her flesh ghostly white and made the blood in her veins feel like ice water.
The car was a blue Chevy Nova with Oregon plates and no tell-tale two-way radio antenna. Liz straightened up and stepped to the edge of the road, gesturing for a ride with her trembling thumb. The car sped by her without slowing down.
A man driving shrugged in sympathy, but the woman sitting next to him was clearly shaking her head no. No kids in the back seat just stared at her. A normal family, Liz thought with chagrin... and I'm a filthy tramp standing by the side of the road.
Crushing sadness made her shoulders droop. She dropped her head and wailed in despair, wishing now she'd tripped over one of those hand grenade boobytraps and ended it all. She'd been through hell already and knew that going home now would be even worse.
* * *
Liz hitched a ride with a traveling salesman who took pity when he saw her looking so forlorn by the side of the road. She assumed he would want to fuck her, or maybe get his middle-aged cock sucked off in return for the favor, and resigned herself to doing whatever he wanted.
But he made no such suggestion, and shuddered when she suggested they stop to have a little fun. Liz wanted to make him hot for her. She needed that to feel like a real woman again. But he slapped her hand away when she rubbed his thigh.
"No way, baby! Not with a scumbag like you! You make me feel sorry, not sexy." And that made her cry. Liz was now used to being wanted... to being taken by men who found her lithe beauty impossible to resist.
Other shocks hit her like a set of rolling ocean waves. First, she had no place to go home to. Her apartment had been rented to someone else. The lock was changed and a spare key she had hidden under a planter box by the door wouldn't fit.
The landlord saw her trying the door and didn't recognize her at first. He threatened to call the police if she didn't leave. "But I live here," she moaned.
"You wha --? Oh, Jesus! Miss Randolph, I wouldn't know you."
"I need my clothes," she cried. "My personal things."
"I thought the apartment was abandoned. I cleaned it out and rented it two months ago. All your things are in storage at the moving company warehouse down the street."
Liz went there but could not reclaim any of her possessions until she paid a three hundred dollar moving and storage bill. And she had no money, no credit cards, not even a driver's license for identification.
She went to the home of her closest friend, another young teacher who worked at the same school. Liz got there late in the afternoon and learned that she no longer had a job. "School started two weeks ago," her friend Sandy said with a long sigh. "You didn't report for work, nobody knew where you were... principal had to hire someone else."
No job, no place to live. Liz felt more desperate at every turn. Sandy did treat her to a hot bath and let her borrow some decent clothes to wear. And she tried to brush the snarls. from the long, silky soft hair Liz had once been so proud of.
Long weeks of neglect in a drug-hazed fog left it in impossible tangles. Sandy could only cut it short and fluff curls around her friend's sad looking face. "I'd offer to let you spend the night," she said, "but I've got a guy coming over. He's special to me --"
"I understand," Liz said bleakly. "I'm a burned out doper, someone nobody wants to be seen with. Someone nobody wants at all." How could everything in her life have gone so wrong?
Sandy did loan Liz enough money to take a cab to her mother's house in a fashionable suburb south of San Francisco. The three-shaded streets wound through rolling hills and each house was different -- not like the cheaper tract homes lower down that all seemed to have been made by the same giant cookie cutter.
Liz held her breath as she went up the curving stone walk to the front door. She looked better in fresh clothes and carefully applied makeup, but still felt like a derelict inside. Months of her life had slipped away in a haze of high grade marijuana smoke that mercifully dulled all her memories of debauchery.
She knocked on the carved oak double doors and waited, still holding her breath. When Liz last saw her mother Beth she'd been sharply critical. No, worse than that. She had called her a slut.
Beth was living with a Stanford student not half her age, a member of the university's waterpolo team. Lean, athletic and hung like a horse, her mother had confided with a lewd grin. Then a virgin obsessed with her precious purity and impecable behavior, Liz berated her mother.
"Don't expect me to call this one uncle," she recalled saying in seething disgust. "I'm too old for that now. And you're too old to be sleeping with college-age jock!"
That was six or eight months ago, and few of Beth Randolph's shameless affairs lasted that long. Liz stood waiting for her timid knock to be answered, wondering what kind of man her mother was shacked up with now... wondering what she could say to make amends.
The carved wooden doors swung inward and the two women stood face-to-face through moment of stunned silence. Beth gazed at her daughter and did not recognize her at first. Then she "Oh, my God! Liz, darling ... where have you been?"
"It's a long story," she answered sadly. "I went driving up north right after school let out for the summer --"
"I know that. But you've been missing for months. Your friends called me. Your landlord, the school principal. Nobody knew where you were."
"I was taken prisoner," Liz said with a sorrowful cry.
"You mean on the yacht?"
"After that," Liz sobbed, not thinking clearly enough to wonder how her mother could have known about that part of her ordeal. "Three men growing dope who lived in a cave in the woods."
"Oooh," her mother said with a smile just starting to curve her soft lips. "That was on the TV news last night. A drug raid and a running gun battle. All three of them were shot --"
"And killed?" Liz moaned with her sad look of despair turning even more somber.
"No, dear. Just wounded." Beth was smiling now. Her daughter's concern for her captors was quite clear. "The police are still looking for a young woman who lived with them all summer."
Liz winced her eyes shut. Her tightly drawn lips started to quiver. Shame and sadness welled up in her and burst free as a rush of tears.
Beth put a consoling arm around her and ushered Liz inside, murmuring words of sympathy. "They did awful things to me! All three of them. Sometimes all three at once."
"We don't have to talk about that now," her mother said. She guided Liz to a couch in the living room, sat her down and then went to pour drinks at the bar.
"But I liked what they did to me. I was high all the time, and -- and I acted like a depraved sex maniac?' "Well -- " Beth Randolph paused in deep thought, carefully considering what she might say next. She decided saying nothing was the best. Beth pressed pressed a tall glass of bourbon and water into her daughter's hands and sat down beside her Liz took a long cooling sip, then hugged her mother -- thankful she was so understanding. She took another big swallow and felt the soothing liquor start to warm her shivering insides. Then she confessed with a sobbing wail, "I've done worse things than you ever dreamed of. I was so prudish, and so mean to you... and I'm nothing but a slut underneath."
"Don't punish yourself," her mother said very softly.
"But I must! If you had a man here right now, I'd want him to fuck me. I want it so bad, I'd try to take him away from you. I wouldn't care who or what he was."
"Well -- " Beth Randolph paused again, carefully choosing her next words. She was a stunning woman, tall like her daughter, but more ripely curved. Big pillowy tits and a bountiful ass both accented. by her slender waist. Dark brown hair softly streaked with silver, upswept and styled like a glittering crown. " -- there is someone who's been waiting to see you," she said.
"Waiting for me?" Liz could not imagine who it might be. Sandy was her only close friend, and she was with some man that night. Liz didn't have any male friends.
"Yes, dear. A very handsome man waiting for you. Waiting almost a month" Liz looked puzzled and brushed away her streaming tears. She looked at her mother's smiling face and flashed a wry, uncertain grin. "You mean Daddy? Has he come back?" Liz had dreamed about that ever since her parents divorced.
"I know how you've missed him all these years, but I was thinking about someone you might love even more -- "
"Who?" Liz asked curiously.
Long John Sylver answered her question by striding into the room -- tall, dark tanned and sun bleached blonde like some mythical god of the sea.
"Liz," he exclaimed with a longing sigh, strong but still uncertain.
"John?" she gulped. He wore crisp white yachting pants and a classic blue blazer with a gold crest on the breast pocket.
"I've been worried sick about you," he said "I was such an ass that night on Paul Morgan's boat."
"He came here looking for you," Beth said.
"I looked everywhere else. Even hired a private detective to find you. I was so worried:' Liz felt a dizzying swirl of mixed emotion. "I thought all you cared about was finding the gold and fucking that teenage girl.
He blushed and decided to ignore her last remark. "We found the wreck of the San Louis Rey two days after you jumped ship. Two million in gold, jewelry and artifacts worth that much again. "My share is half. I'm rich, Liz... stinking, rotten rich!"
She was thinking, stinking and rotten all right. Liz was going to say it, but something held her back. It couldn't be love, not after all she'd been through. Deep down, she blamed John for her ordeal.
But looking at him made her lithe body ache and burn with desire. And that showed on her face despite a stern expression she wore like a camouflage mask.
"Did you mean it about waiting to fu -- I mean, make love?"
"I meant it, but I wasn't thinking of you."
"Maybe I can make it up to you. Make you feel that precious something we did before."
"Oooh, John!" Her anger faded in a haze of surging passion. Liz leaped up and rushed into his arms with a gasping sigh of delight. They kissed passionately and she sucked on his tongue just as she had desperately sucked breath from his scuba tank when Liz thought she had drowned.
He cupped and fondled her breasts, pumping his hips to thrust the pulsing heat of his erection against her softly domed Venus mound. Liz felt her pussy and ass muscles clench with spasms of seething desire. Her throat heaved and her anxious mouth ached with a hunger that licking and sucking his tongue could not satisfy.
"I almost lost the real treasure," he whispered hoarsely, holding her tight.
Liz heaved a delighted sigh and sank to her knees. She pulled at the zipper of his fly and freed his stiff cock, not thinking or caring about her mother who sat on the couch, calmly sipping her drink and smiling strangely as she watched.
John loosened his belt, let his pants slide down. Liz gazed wiggled to let his undershorts fondly at the big cock that first split her cherry. She felt her pussy seethe and squirm with writhing contractions that simmered up sleek, damp warmth to gloss her pussy lips.
Aching hunger made her mouth water. Liz gulped and circled her lips to suck him in. she tilted her head and swallowed his whole length expertly without pausing to think. Spider, Snake and Grunt had taught her a lot.
Her tongue rippled, her lips pulled and her cheeks sucked in to embrace his hot shaft in a slithering sleeve of damp warmth. "Hhhooo, baby! Oooh, Liz -- it's sssooo much better than before."
She rocked back and flicked his spit-glossed cockhead with the tip of her wiggling tongue. "I've sucked longer and thicker cocks than yours," she said with a flash of anger beyond conscious control. "But none that I wanted more."
"It's the same with me, sweetheart. Maureen and her sister Shelly meant nothing to me. Can we forgive and forget?"
"Of course, darling. Your cock was my first, and it's the only one I really want." Liz sucked back to the root of John's long ram and spread her mouth wide. She cupped her hands and nested his balls in the pouch of her extended lower lip.
He heaved a deep grunt of delight. "Jeeezuz... balls and all! Unngh! You're such a great cock-sucker now, I don't give a shit how you learned."
She gurgled ecstatic sounds, sucking and tongue-teasing his balls at that same time. Liz eased her right hand beneath the skirt she borrowed from Sandy, into her panties and into her simmering cunt slit.
Her middle finger swept around her swollen clit bud and made her warm honey gush like a rampaging flood. She wet the whole length of her finger in her simmering cunt slit, then circled her arms around John Sylver's naked waist.
He swayed before her, delightedly fucking her sleek throat. Liz clamped her hands on his hard-muscled ass cheeks and drove him deeper, rocking on her knees as she took his anxious thrusts.
Liz spread his taut ass cheeks and playfully teased her pussy-slicked finger around the puckered rim of his shithole. John clenched and moaned, arching to ram his throbbing hot prick as deep in her throat as it would go.
She moaned and kept sucking, tantalizing his hard shaft and weighty balls at the same time. Then she began to wiggle her honey-glazed finger up his ass. "Aaaggghhh!" he roared. That was something the shy, timid young teacher would never have done before -- something John Sylver did not like at first.
He thrust his hips forward to escape the wiggling finger inching up his tight ass. Liz sucked like a demon with her hungry lips spread so wide she had his heaving balls inside her mouth too. Her tongue licked and swirled, and her teasing finger burrowed deeper into the writhing tunnel of his ass.
The combination was like nothing he'd ever felt before. She sucked and twirled his straining balls with her tongue, and the finger up his ass was teasing his dick root from the inside. Sylver came with a deep grunting roar, gushing jism in silvery spurts that she sucked down like a vampire crazed with a hunger for cum.
Liz gulped and slurped, and she kept wiggling her finger in the depths of his asshole. That teased up more jism when he felt his balls were completely drained. He fired spurt after spurt and felt his knees growing weak.
"God, what an orgasm! I've never cum sssooo long and sssooo hard before. You're the greatest, Liz! Even better than your mother!"
CHAPTER TEN
Liz rocked back on her knees and let his drained cock slide from her sucking lips. Her face wrenched into a grimace of sick disgust. She spit the last gob of his creamy cum at John's feet and snarled, "You bastard! You son of a bitch! You've been here fucking my mother?"
Neither of them knew quite what to say. But Beth and John exchanged guilty looks like naughty children caught raiding the cookie jar. "I seduced him," Beth finally confessed. "I couldn't resist trying the first cock to get into my prudish daughter."
"Unnngh!" Liz stumbled to her feet and spit cum on the carpet again.
"Hey!" John snapped sternly. "It's not like you've been away at a Sunday school summer camp!"
"I was forced!" Liz shot back. "Held captive by three armed men."
"How did they force you to like it?" her mother asked pointedly.
"I -- I couldn't help that. It's -- it's something I can't control." Beth flashed a knowing grin and nodded. "Neither can I. We're cut from the same bolt of cloth, sweetheart. We get a little, we want a lot. We get a lot, we want even more. Your father couldn't accept that. That's why we split up. Be glad John is more understanding -- "
"Understanding? I'll never understand! He said he was so worried about me... and all the time he was fucking my mother!"
Beth barely managed to stay calm in the face of scathing criticism. "I can't see why you're so up-tight."
"I'm up-tight because my mother has the morals of an alley cat!" Liz cried. "First Dad left us, now you've taken John from me!"
"Oooh," Beth said. Her face brightened as though in the light of dawn. "The two men you love most have been unfaithful to you... and you blame me."
"Yes, I do!"
"Well, your father had other women long before I started... playing around."
"I don't believe that!"
"It's true, Liz. I was near a saint."
"Daddy?" She turned and gaped in shock. Jack Randolph was older than in the vision that flashed before her eyes when she thought she was drowning, but Liz would have recognized his ruggedly handsome face anywhere.
"It's me, sweetheart. In the flesh."
"Your father came home almost three months ago," Beth said. "We're back together after all these years." She rose and stood beside him, circling an arm possessively around Jack's waist."
"Back together?" Liz croaked. "But mother's been fucking my John!"
"Yeah, and we all went out on Paul Morgan's boat for awhile when they were bringing up the treasure. I had a hell of a time with that girl Shelly. There's a lot someone that young can learn from an older man."
Liz flashed her stunned gaze on Beth's smiling face. "You knew Daddy was doing that?"
"I watched," Beth answered simply. "You remember the one-way glass?"
"Oh, Jeeezus. And that didn't bother you?"
"Only when I thought of all the good times we missed when we were younger," Beth said. "I don't want you and John to make the same mistake. Why can't you share love and have freedom too?"
They were all watching Liz now. She sat deep in serious thought, then she asked John, "Is that what you really want?"
"You know it is. I love you, Liz... but I'm not a stay-at-home kind of guy," Sylver said.
Liz swallowed hard and then broke into a broad grin. "And I'm not such a prude anymore," she said boldly. "I want to get back with the first man I ever loved." She put down her highball glass and stood before her father, smiling as her wet tongue slowly circled her lips.
Her arms reached up and circled his neck. Jack gulped and Beth let him go. He hugged Liz and pressed her lithe warm body close to his. She said, "If you all mean what you've been saying, no one should mind if my father fucks me."
Jack's craggy face paled and he mumbled, "Oooh, shit!" Liz dropped a hand to tug at his fly. The other arm tightened around his neck and pulled his lips to meet hers. She kissed him and thrust boldly with her tongue.
"Ungh," he gulped. His daughter dug a hand into his pants and fondled his hardening cock.
"Don't pull away from me, Daddy. We can share love and have freedom, too."
Long John Sylver took a step toward them, but Beth held his arm and whispered softly, "Let them be." He shrugged and heaved a sigh of resignation.
Liz held her father's naked cock in her hand and teased it throbbing hard with delicate finger-strokes. "You think there's anything an older man can teach me?" she asked coyly.
Randolph swallowed the last of his reservations. "Only one way to find out. Let's go to the bedroom."
Sylver felt queasy watching Liz stroke her father's cock so adoringly. Beth purred, "Let's go with them."
"You want to watch?"
"No, I want to fuck side-by-side with my daughter. That's one thing even I've never done."
Liz undressed slowly, seductively, feeling her confidence rush back. Her father's cock was really throbbing, and Long John Sylver was a little jealous. "You two are a lot alike," she observed. "Two men I thought deserted me... now I have them both."
"Both? Now wait a minute -- " Beth protested.
"No, you wait! I want to be sweet-meat in a fuck sandwich. Daddy, lie down on the bed on your back."
Randolph sighed with some misgiving, but he was too horny and too curious to resist. He stretched out on the bed and Liz straddled him on her knees, pressing the up-angled shaft of his stiff cock against the wet mouth of her cunt slit.
She bent forward on her hands and knees and kissed him again, squirming her hips to seat the head of his cock between her pussy lips. Her ass writhed enticingly, trim and taut with its dark inner hole pulsing. "I want you up my ass, John. I want to feel your big cock and my father's butt heads."
"What about me?" Beth moaned.
Liz giggled, dazed and delighted by an after-flash from all the dope she had smoked. "You can sit on Daddy's face," she said, "facing me. That way we can both suck your cunt at the same time."
"My God... I wanted you to grow up, but I never expected anything like this!" Beth undressed, uncertain at first, but sure there was no way she could hold back now. She hunched on her knees over Jack's smiling face while Long John climbed up at the foot of the bed behind Liz.
He wet his cockhead in the slit of her simmering wet cunt. Liz sighed in rapture, rocking back and forth between the two men. Leaning forward, she felt the heat of her father's cock press into her pussy slit. Rocking back, Long John's hot ram made her clenched asshole seethe and squirm with delight.
Poised midway between two anxious big cocks she said, "Both at once. Fuck me as hard and deep as you can!" Liz said the words with lips touching her mother's hairy cunt slit, making it quiver and seethe tangy damp warmth that dripped down into her father's gaping mouth.
"Is everybody ready?" Liz asked anxiously.
"Unh -- hungh," John said.
"I guess," Jack said with lips half smothered by the bottom of his former wife's dripping cunt slit.
"Then go for it!" Liz said. "Let's all cum together... together at last.
Long John lunged forward and speared Liz up the ass. She howled despite all the simmering heat of anticipation. And Sylver's mighty thrust rammed her down hard on the full length of her father's cock.
Two steely hard shafts sank into her like trains headed for each other on the same track. They bored into her twin tunnels of lust and crashed headon deep inside.
Liz wailed like a steam whistle and nibbled her mother's clit. Beth gasped a delighted cry and pressed down. Jack tongued into her cunt slit. Father and daughter both licked and sucked her sultry hole. At times their tongues twined together, both stirring Beth's simmering broth.
John and Jack pumped their cocks into Liz like a pair of pistons -- first one, then the other. That rhythm suited them best. She always had one driving cock deep inside her. John entered as Jack pulled back, and Jack drove in as John withdrew.
They fucked like a pair of lumberjacks working a whipsaw back and forth. Beth watched her daughter sway between then, grunting and moaning in wild rapture more enthralling than any drug high.
Sylver saw Beth's dazed look of delight and reached over Liz to fondle the older woman's lush breasts. He twirled and teased her plump nipples under his thumbs.
With her tits heaving and her nipples swollen tingling hard, Beth enjoyed the two wiggling tongues in her wet cunt even more. Shocks of pleasure spread from her chest and her squirming loins.
Beth reached her hands down between Jack and Liz. She cupped her daughter's supple tit cones and teased her nipples with circling finger strokes.
Liz writhed and wailed, rocking between two great cocks. She lunged back to feel Long John drive into her clinging asshole, then forward to feel her father root deep in her twat. And her mother tingled her nipples going both ways.
The furious heat of friction and frenzied non-stop stimulation was almost more pleasure than she could stand. Liz gulped dripping honey from her mother's cunt and cried, "This is going to be my best climax ever!"
"You deserve it," Beth said with a moan. "Just make sure I cum with you. Tongue-fuck my ass, Jack... please!"
"Sure, sweetheart. That'll get you ready to take my cock from behind in the next round."
"And I'll fuck the cunt Liz is licking hot for me now," Sylver announced. "You won't mind if I fuck the cunt you came from, will you, baby?"
"Why should I mind?" Liz asked, feeling the last of her inhibitions burn away. She felt free for the first time -- completely free to enjoy herself and those who meant most to her.
She climaxed into spasms of grunting and moaning joy that seemed to ignite every nerve end in her whole being. Liz tongued her mother's swollen clit to share the rapture of orgasm while Jack burrowed and wiggled his tongue up Beth's ass.
Beth joined her daughter in climax, jerking and twitching as fiery shocks of lewd pleasure jarred every muscle and nerve. The two men kept pumping dick into Liz until their cocks could take no more pleasure without letting go.
John and Jack both stiffened. Their bodies trembled as the swelling pressure in their ball sacs surged to explode. They both strained to savor the intense delight of impending eruption. Their cocks wedged in her head-to-head, separated by only a thin wall of tender flesh that divided her pussy and ass.
When both started gushing cum into her, Liz screamed a shrilling orgasmic cry of complete release. Her cunt and ass tunnels heaved and pulsed, convulsing to suck and drain the two magnificent big cocks cumming in her at once.
The climax they all shared went on for a full minute. Liz and Beth both wailed in rapture, pitching their lewd cries higher and higher until they both gasped -- breathless and sated as they settled back to savor the lingering aftershocks of. ecstasy in absolute silence.
Another full minute passed before any one of them caught breath enough to speak. Then it was Liz who smiled and said, "I guess all is forgiven?"
"Oh, yeah," her mother concurred. "Why suffer with hard feelings when we can enjoy hard cocks?"
Liz rocked her hips and let the two sated men slip from her rippling love tunnels. "How long do you think it will take us to get them hard enough to go again?" she asked her mother.
"Knowing these two, not long. Not long at all, dear."
* * *
Beth was right about that. Ten minutes later they were fucking again. She sat her pussy on Long John's stiff cock and happily took Jack's dick up her ass. Liz straddled her young lover's face and watched her mother bend down. Both of them licked and sucked her cum dripping cunt.
While Liz writhed in delight, her father said, "Beth and I plan to remarry. We were just waiting for you to get home."
"I'm so glad," Liz cooed. "Maybe we can make it a double wedding... that is, if you still want me, John."
"Now more than ever," he said. "Now I know we can all get along."
"There's just one thing we have left to settle," Liz told him, sighing and squirming her delighted cunt on the tip of his tongue.
"Hungh? What's that?"
"The wedding guest list. I'd like my friends Spider, Snake and Grunt to come. You think we can get them out on bail?"
"Anything you want, Liz. Anything at all."
Beth rocked between the two men's cocks and said, "Maybe we can honeymoon on Paul Morgan's yacht. Do you think he'd let us?"
"Let us? I think he'll insist on it," Sylver assured them all.
"Oooh?" Liz moaned. "Then there's one more thing we have to get straight."
"What's that?"
"I'm not going diving," she said. "Not ever! If I run out of breath again, it's going to be with a big cock in my mouth."
