Archive Note: The misspelled words found in the following text are exactly as found in the original pocketbook.
CHAPTER ONE
Charles West was an undeniable success in the world of business and, moreover, he enjoyed his position far too much to feel the smallest pang of remorse for anything he had had to do to become what he was. To the contrary, he often found himself almost wishing that he had not gained the pinnacle of his career quite so rapidly and completely ... that there was still some challenge left in his life. Ironically, Charles' knack for organization had made the publishing company operate so efficiently that there was little for him to do now but count up the profits and amuse himself with an occasional new project-such as American Industry the newest magazine his company published that now lay before him on the desk.
The magazine, which had started out as a half-hearted effort to keep up with production trends started by large companies, had become Charles' pride and joy, an attractive, glossy testament to the success of American Industry ... his pet interest! The ruggedly handsome middle-aged newspaper magnate thumbed proudly through the smart little publication, nodding in pleased agreement with everything that his young editor, John Blake, had included so far. It had taken Charles a good while to clear all the fancy intellectual notions out of the recent college graduate's head, but finally he had trained the boy satisfactorily.
The magazine was exactly as Charles wanted it now, packed with colorful photographs of new plants and operations as well as busty, well-shaped girls to keep the laymen interested in the meat of the articles. Yes, young Blake was certainly coming along and, if he continued to remember who was buttering his bread, the boy might possibly have a brilliant future with West Publications.
Charles turned another page of the publication and suddenly the expression of smug-faced complacency began to fade from his craggy features. Below the thick mass of greying black hair, the fifty-five year-old publisher's face darkened and his broad chest began to heave beneath his ex pensively-tailored shirt and suit-jacket until his appearance was that of a lion on the verge of roaring out its fury. On the desk before him the magazine lay open at its last page, the headline of which read: "An editorial by Charles West...."
"Goddamnit, Blake, where's my picture?" the enraged bull-like man bellowed out in his spacious office. "How in hell could you forget that?"
Then, remembering that the palatial office had been thoroughly sound-proofed as a result of his own orders, and that no one but he could hear his indignant fury, he rose quickly from his chair and leaned over the highly-polished expanse of desk to jab impatiently at the buzzer that signalled his receptionist in the next room. His tall, still-muscular frame seemed even more ominous than usual as he bent over the callbox, punching his forefinger brutally down on the button until a red light suddenly lit up on the console.
"Yes-yes, Mr. West," a nervous female voice finally chimed in from the speaker on the machine. "I-I was just away from my desk for a minute...."
The girl's obvious terror pleased Charles in his dour mood and he found himself smiling evilly as he roared back into the speaker, "You're damned right you did, girl! And tell your friends at the water-cooler to break up the tea party and get back to work right away!"
"Oh, yes, sir," she squeaked timidly. Charles grinned to himself sadistically as he imagined his deliciously built red-headed receptionist cowering at her desk, making frantic gestures to his small battalion of secretaries that they should return to work immediately. He required a fairly larrge number of girls in his personal secretarial staff because some of them were dead weight and had been hired solely for their looks. Well, what the hell, he thought defensively, what was the good of being president if he could not indulge himself in a few harmless amusements at the company's expense.
"Uh, Mr. West, sir," the timid female voice from the speaker broke in again, intruding on his thoughts. "Did you want me for anything else, sir?"
His fury of a moment ago renewing, Charles was just about to instruct the girl to summon John Blake to his office when his wandering gaze fell on the page opposite his own "editorial" in the magazine. Almost against his will, he stared feverishly at the page headed "New Factories" and at the picture of a buxom, round-hipped blonde girl seductively caressing a large cement pipe, one of Acme Concretes newest in safety and endurance. Though he tried to maintain his waning anger at the young editor, Charles could not help but appreciate John Blake's unerring taste in female flesh. Charles wondered for a long moment if the magazine editor interviewed his models personally. Christ, the very idea of all those gorgeous young women clustered in John's tiny office, like a whole gardenful of flowers just waiting to be plucked by any man with balls enough to do it, made the publisher leer licentiously. It was no wonder that John sometimes forgot a thing as simple as including the boss's picture with his editorial on industry, Charles mused with a chuckle. Hell, the poor kid probably had had a hard time managing to think straight all the time.
"Did you say something, Mr. West?" the receptionist asked at the sound of her employer's muffled laughter over the intercom. Charles sat there in silence, continuing to stare at the juicy female morsel in the photograph, his temple beginning to pulse and throb.
"Aw, hell, buzz Miss Castleton in her office and have her come in here at once," Charles finally ordered. "And tell her to make it snappy."
"Yes, sir," the receptionist's voice came back, a tone of frightened obeisance causing her to squeak a little. It was not two minutes after the intercom had clicked off that a small door marked "Private" sprang open on the far side of Charles's office.
"Honey, you know I'm right next door, you don't have to go through a third party," a gorgeous blonde-haired woman purred as she stepped into his office, clad only in a revealing sky-blue negligee fringed with almost incongruous-seeming lace at the cuffs and down along the deep vee of the neckline. "I could hear you bullying that poor girl out there even over the sounds of the football game on my radio."
"Dammit, Ursula, you're on the payroll as my photography editor, not to mention the entertainer of my business associates, and you really ought to be dressed by this time of day," Charles grumbled with mock sterness as his glittering eyes hungrily scanned the generous, sexy contours of Ursula Castleton's nearly-naked body. Although Charles West's ravishing golden-haired mistress was in her late thirties, her provocative, voluptuous body was always enough to send his blood pressure soaring, and now Charles rapidly forgot the younger girls on the pages of his newest magazine publication.
He added with a leering grin, "What if one of the secretaries came into your office, baby? Now what kind of work would you be doing in that kind of outfit? Christ, Ursula, who do you think you are?"
"I'm just me, Charles, and I'd be doing the same kind of work I always do," she replied with a confident smile as she began to stroll casually toward him, her full outward-curving hips swaying seductively beneath the sheer fabric of her negligee. "Don't worry, anyway, because I always keep the door locked when I'm like this. I just had a feeling you might want to see me this afternoon, so I dressed for the occasion."
Smiling at him cleverly, the statuesque beauty peeled the thin garment slowly from her sensuous body and, dropping it to her feet, did a small pirouette in the center of the spacious office before she walked nakedly to his desk and leaned her smooth rounded buttocks back on the hard wood edge, wriggling back along the top until she perched gracefully in front of him. Her deep amber eyes flickered smokily with suddenly-ignited lust as she stared expectantly into Charles's hard but handsome face.
"By God, you really want it, don't you, baby?" Charles growled excitedly at the beautiful woman whose buttocks were already moving slowly in tiny little circles of anticipation on the highly burnished wood surface of his desk, a scant few inches from his leering face. "You little whore, I'll bet you don't think about anything but cock all day long."
"Do ... do you want me to think about something else?" Ursula asked quietly, her sultry face suddenly changing to a clouded expression of uncertainty and confusion. "I always do anything you say, Charles. With anyone." In her anxiety, her golden-eyed gaze darted nervously around the room. "Do you have some business friends you want me to entertain now? I will, sweetheart. I'll do anything for you. I always have ... God, without...."
"That's right, baby, without me you'd be right back in the gutter where I found you," Charles chuckled cruelly, delighting in her obsequous show of absolute dependence on him, whatever his whims. That was the way he liked his employees ... especially his women ... answering gratefully to his every beck and call. "But don't worry. I think you're going to be with me for a long, long time," he added expansively, "because we understand each other, don't we?"
Relief registered clearly in the handsome woman's facial features and then, once again, desire kindled in her eyes. "You bet, sweetheart," she purred throatily and ran her slim fingertips lightly and teasingly down the front of his white shirt until they rested inquisitively on the buckle of his belt. Her long thick eyelashes trembled excitedly as she asked in a soft tremulous voice, "Do you have any ... any editing for me to carry out today?"
"No, but I've got some private editing for you," Charles barked harshly, suddenly impatient with the wastefulness of mere conversation. He rose hastily from his overstuffed chair and began to pull at the stubborn fastenings at the fly of his trousers. "My big old cock has just been waiting for the feel of your sweet lips around it, baby, and it doesn't want to wait any longer."
His lust-bright eyes fastened greedily on Ursula's naked, tantalizing body as he pulled down the zipper of his trousers and jerked free his suddenly-hardening cock from the confinement of his undershorts. The hot-blooded blonde had been Charles live-in mistress ever since the high-powered publisher had become bored with a life of all business and damned little pleasure, and he had discovered her one night where she worked as a dancer in a flashy nightclub bar. Though he had never claimed to be faithful to the willing, uninhibited blonde, the' sexual electricity between them had never faded and now, as his appreciative eyes played lewdly over the exciting curves and valleys of her lush body, he felt ripples of hot desire rushing swiftly through the sensitive nerve-ends of his skin. His long, purple-veined penis jutted out of the opening in his grey flannel trousers and began to rise stiffly up below his slight paunch as he stood at the back of his desk staring down at his mistress's white, cream-like contours displayed nakedly before him. His gaze rested hotly on the sight of her plush, full breasts, the narrowest of valleys running between the magnificent firmness of the twin globes. His thick heavy cock jerked higher as his eyes dropped lower to take in the milky, voluptuous hips that led down to the delicious sweep of long, slender legs. Between the shapely, breath-taking thighs that draped enticingly over the edge of the desk, Charles could see clearly through the soft golden pubic hair covering her ripe loins to the fleshy pinkness of her vaginal slit glistening wetly in the afternoon light filtering through the tinted glass window.
"Now, baby," he suddenly groaned, hoarse with mounting need. "Come over here and give me some of those sweet lips, the way I taught you."
With a soft moan of pleasure, his naked mistress wiggled across the desk, then leaned on one elbow until her beautiful face was poised dirrectly in front of him, within inches of his now hard, pulsing shaft of flesh rising menacingly up from the unzipped front of his trousers. Her long, red-lacquered fingernails scratched lightly over the heavily-veined surface of the rock-hard prick, causing it to ierk convulsively as the hot air of her breath blew softly on it. Charles' breath quickened even more as she began to expertly massage the massive cock, lovingly, up and down until one fat glistening drop of pearly, translucent fluid seeped out from the broad, mushroom-shaped head. She then moved her slender fingers down lower to his sperm-bloated balls, cradling their softness in her palm. Charles groaned and gritted his teeth at her expertly tender ministrations of his stiff cock and large drooping testicles.
"Do you like it, sweetheart?" she asked coquettishly, fully aware of the heated effect that her naked female body and the teasing touch of her fingertips was having on him. "Does it make you forget all about those nasty business problems that always bother you?"
"You know damn well I like it, bitch," Charles growled, irritated by her mention of the business annoyances that he was trying so hard to forget. "Don't tease me, goddammit. Just suck my cock!"
Suddenly, he moaned and jerked his anxious loins forward involuntarily as the delicious wet warmth of her parted lips closed over the sensitive, blood-swollen glans of his penis. He moaned louder and reached down to tangle his fingers tightly in her blonde wavy hair, guiding the rhythm of her now-bobbing head below.
God, how he had needed this!
Charles looked down to watch the beautiful woman's penis-filled face, her soft lips stretched wide with the thickness of his aching cock buried at least halfway up in her sucking mouth. Ursula sensed his increasing excitement and began to suck harder, twirling her smooth red tongue titillatingly around the moist stickiness of the bulbous head. As he felt the tips of her teeth digging gently into the rubbery, resisting skin, he turned his head to gaze sideways into the huge mirror that filled the wall beside his desk for a better view of his gorgeous, willing mistress's face as his turgid, hard rod began to saw rhythmically in and out of the blonde's wetly ovaled mouth. Christ, just the sight alone was enough to drive him insane, causing his loins to tense more and jerk up into her laboring face until the reflected image he saw looked as though he were ramming his long, hard prick more than halfway down her slender throat. Practically all of his thick fleshy penis now seemed to disappear with each new powerful thhrust he made until finally only a short stretch of it showed shining wet and white, protruding from her distended lips. She was gorged with his fiery blood-filled flesh, his pulsating length like a savage creature with its own existence and needs that had taken control over his body and mind.
Jesus, he swore to himself, the bitch could really suck cock, as though she had been born with one in her mouth and had learned to treat it as part of herself. Sure, he often desired other women-the younger and more innocent the better-but he could always depend upon Ursula to deliver the kind of pure satisfaction he wanted ... like this ... and without any bothersome preliminaries.
Ursula experienced tongue worked with a nerve-tingling swipe of its tip on each out-stroke and was making his cockhead throb and lurch as if a live electric wire were being touched against it. The impassioned middle-aged publisher was completely mesmerized by the lewd spectacle in the mirror, watching the pink moist flesh of her tightly compressed lips being pulled out grotesquely and clinging to the thickness of his cock as she sucked voraciously, her entire being focused on the labor of giving him this obscene pleasure. Her full, heavy breasts bobbed and swayed against her rocking torso, and the very sight of it incited him to increasing heights of brain-reeling passion.
"Keep on, keep on sucking my cock," Charles hissed through tightly clenched teeth, wishing that all of his employees could give him as much pleasure as this one, this mature, full-bodied woman. Shit, if the editor of the American Industry were a woman and not John Blake, how he would love to shove his stiff prick deep down in her throat, as far as he humanly could, to teach her a lesson she would never forget, so that she would never again forget to include the face of Charles West in any future issue. The thought of the missing picture in American Industry filled him with a renewed momentary anger and he wound his hand brutally in his mistress's soft blonde hair, driving her face down viciously into his thrusting loins.
"Suck harder, suck faster, goddammit," he snarled down at the woman slaving between his wide-spread, trembling legs. Her ripe body was beginning to gleam from the light beading of sweat forming on her ivory skin, and he was gloating and enjoying the sight of her lying subserviently on the desk, her lipstick-ovaled lips wrapped tightly around the thick roundness of his stone-hard cock as he stood over her, lunging his hips furiously into her lovely twisted face.
He could feel a powerful pressure building relentlessly up to a fever pitch in his painfully full balls, and he knew it would not be long now. His huge cock felt like it was ready to explode and spew the hot creamy sperm in his bloated testicles in all directions, everywhere in the room.
He drove his pelvis heartlessly into her face, even more cruelly now, and heard with delight the mumbled cry of protest that came from her as his long heafty prick drubbed deeper and deeper into her tortured, warm wet mouth, driving far down into her working throat. But he heeded nothing in his quest to end this exquisite agony, the ecstasy that was guilding, building, building to the peak of spectacular relief in his burning loins and within his balls.
Suddenly he felt a great upheaval in his lust-swollen testicles as the boiling white sperm began to race in a hot stream up the length of this thrusting cock. His own lips pulled back over his teeth in an ecstatic grimace and he gasped hoarsely as though in excruciating pain. His thick fleshy penis began a sudden wild staccato jerking that, without warning, flooded his beautiful mistress's hungrily sucking mouth with burst after burst of heatedly sticky cum, ballooning her smooth cheeks outward with each bullet-like spurt, so that she had to swallow quickly to keep from choking, yet still mewling and crooning at his driving loins.
"Don't stop, baby, suck it, suck it!" he rasped as he tightened his hands in her tawny hair and convulsively slammed his pulsating cock farther and farther into her lipsticked mouth and deep down into her distended throat. The naked woman obeyed and continued to suck insanely as he shot his lewd sperm into her, filling her mouth, almost drowning her, until at last he gave a shuddering sigh and pulled himself back and out of her lips for one final thrust. But he missed her still eagerly sucking mouth by a fraction of an inch when he lunged forward again. The blunt inflamed head rammed against the side of her face by mistake, leaving a long sticky trail of hot cum smeared lewdly along her upper lip and her right cheek. Undaunted, Ursula twisted her head and maneuvered her voracious mouth to seize the base of his hard-throbbing staff of flesh between her teeth like a dog with a stick. Then, grasping his scrotum with her fingers, she lifted her head to guide the glistening tip back into the warmth of her open mouth, squeezing up on the cock with her fingers to milk out and devour every last drop of the delicious whitee fluid.
Little by little, his sated penis deflated between her ovaled lips and, at last, Charles collapsed back into his chair in exhaustion, pulling his prick from her lips with a wet little slurping sound that resounded wetly in the stillness of the office. A great sigh of relief escaped his lips, and Ursula lay back happily on the desk, a loving, contented smile spreading across her beautiful, cum-smeared face. She lay there for a few moments, catching her breath, then sat up again on the edge of the desk.
"That's something you can't get in a board meeting, isn't it, Charles?" the perspiring blonde asked with a proud little smirk, a sparkle of female triumph in her brownish-yellow eyes. Catching sight of the magazine that lay crumpled beneath her rounded thigh, she picked it up and added with a silly giggle, "Why don't you have John do a story on my blowjobs, Charles? Think of the publicity you'd get!"
At the sight of the-copy of American Industry, Charles' face darkened and he felt his irritation returning anew. He knew that it was no use trying to explain to Ursula what that irresponsible punk, John Blake, had done, for she would only laugh and tell him he was being too sensitive. Still, though, it was his magazine and his company, and he had a good mind to teach that young editor a lesson. Perhaps, Ursula might have some ideas, he mused inwardly.
Just then, his angry thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of the intercom.
"What do you want?" he barked gruffly into the console, abruptly motioning to Ursula to get off his desk.
"You have a visitor, sir," the receptionist's half-frightened voice informed from the speaker. "I wouldn't have bothered you, sir, but she said it was personal and very important. She says her name is Mrs. Blake-Mrs. John Blake. Isn't John Blake the-?"
"I know who he is, dammit," Charles interrupted impatiently. At the same moment, however, a strange light of interest began to fill his crafty eyes. "Personal, is it? Well, ask her to please wait for five minutes or so, and then send her on in."
The red light on the console blinked off and Charles looked up to see Ursula standing before his desk, her hands placed defiantly on her full hips, hurt glittering in her amber eyes.
"Charles, I don't try to tie you down, but after all, this is my territory!" she angrily protested. "Can't you take that girl somewhere else? I mean, after what we just did, that makes me feel awful!"
Charles chuckled at her words, then broke into laughter at the pain-stricken expression that immediately came over her face. "Oh, but baby, you don't understand," he finally managed to say through his cruel mirth. "I don't even know this broad, but I do have a little score to settle with her husband," he added a bit more soberly, smoothing back his slightly greying hair with the palm of one hand.
Reaching across the desk, he gave Ursula a quick reassuring pat on a generously rounded buttock cheek, then turned his thirty-four year-old mistress around and shoved her gently toward the door through which she had entered his office earlier.
"Don't worry, baby," he consoled her jovially, "this is just business. If anything comes up, I'll make certain to call you in."
Ursula shot him a long, unbelieving glance and started across the room, pausing only to pick up the flimsy negligee that she had dropped to the carpet when she had first entered the office. As Charles watched the provocative sway of her smooth, cream-like buttocks crossing the room, he felt a brief moment of regret that he had not had more time to spend with this always-exciting woman. She was so damned dependable. But then, just as quickly, he marshalled his thoughts back to matters of the immediate moment. He quickly zipped up his trousers, then, and sat back down in his chair, beginning to speculate over what Mrs. John Blake could possibly want with him. Whatever it was, Charles was going to make damned sure that that young editor, bright as he was, never forgot to put his boss's photo in the magazine again.
"Mr. West is engaged right now, Mrs. Blake, but he'll be free to see you in a few minutes, if you'll be kind enough to wait here."
Lost in her own thoughts, Paula Blake was startled by the sound of the auburn-haired receptionist's voice, but after a moment, she murmured absently, with embarrassment, "Oh yes, of course, I'll wait. I know he's a very busy man."
By the time John Blake's young wife had collected herself sufficiently to speak, the pretty receptionist had already returned to her desk and was answering one of the insistently buzzing lines on the switchboard in front of her. With a fleeting, nervous glance around the spacious, modern waiting room, Paula ascertained that, curiously, there was no one else in line to see the president of West Publications. She stiffened with irrational apprehension as she wondered again exactly what she would say to the powerful mysterious man who was her husband's boss. Now that she was here, sitting in the very building in which John worked, the nervous young woman wondered if perhaps she had made a foolish mistake by coming here. For the flash on an instant, she was tempted to turn right around and go back home again, to its relative safety, but the mental image of her and John's home made her remember exactly why she had come downtown today ... and why she would not go home until at least some small step had been taken to set their marriage straight again.
But what on earth would Mr. West think when she attempted to explain why she wanted to get a job, she wondered nervously. How could she ever make him understand that perhaps the very future of her marriage with John depended upon whether or not she could really prove herself to be a contributing, productive member of their marital partnership?
Paula shifted anxiously in her chair, picked up a magazine from a nearby table, then quickly put it down again, deciding instead to make a last-minute check of her makeup in a tiny mirror which she withdrew from the expensive shoulder bag now on her lap. It would not do, she knew, to walk into Mr. West's office with smudged lipstick or a grimy face from the long bus ride she had made from their suburban home into the downtown section of Chicago.
It took Paula but a minute to pat her long, shiny raven-black hair into perfect place and then apply just a touch more of pale beige lipstick, adding a slightly more pinkish color to her already full, sensuous lips. The thin line of eye makeup around her wide blue eyes was still perfect, though, and she knew from experience that, no matter how determinedly she powdered her face, the light smattering of golden freckles across her nose and part way down her cheeks would show through anyway. Even though she was almost twenty-three years old, those puckish freckles gave her the appearance of a teen-aged tomboy, despite her alluring curves, but she had learned to live with them over the years, consoling herself with the memory of John once having said that they were "cute" and made her actually prettier. Despite what was to her the annoyance of the freckles, she could see in the little compact mirror that she was indeed a very attractive young woman, the kind of young woman whose sweet, almost child-like facial features were a direct contrast to the delectable, curvaceous symmetry of her sensuous-looking body. The long, lucent swing of her shoulder-length raven-black hair tended to sophisticate her pixyish beauty, so that she almost looked her age.
Replacing the mirror in her handbag, the exquisite young wife shook her ebony hair ruefully. It was disconcerting to look always so cherubic and inexperienced, especially at times such as this afternoon, when she was determined to impress John's formidable boss with her maturity and potential efficiency-impress him enough to land a decent job. With an involuntary gesture of nervousness, she reached down to smooth out the short skirt of her crisp, sea green cotton dress over her silky, suntanned thighs, hoping that the prim little frock with its lace cuffs and collar was proper and demure enough to help her in her plan. It was the longest dress she owned now, one left 'over from high school days, and yet it still exposed a fairly daring expanse of shapely, sun-browned leg well above the knee, and its slim figure-hugging design did little to hide the lush contours of her body, the high-set, swelling breasts and firm, circular buttocks mat accentuated her tiny girlish waist to such good advantage. Well, so what if she did look a little daring, she rationalized, it could not hurt her chances for the job-though, God knows, it had not been doing her much good in her own home.
At the thought of her dismal home-life with John, her bright, ambitious husband, the slight, satisfied smile that had begun to play across her perfectly-formed lips faded away and her high, clear brow wrinkled with anxiety. In the eight months since her marriage to John, the beautiful brunette had been forced to arrive at the conclusion that something was basically wrong with their relationship, something serious, and until last night, she had been unable to put her finger on precisely what it was. Now she knew and the realization had spurred her on to the desperate action she was taking today. She would get a job and show John, once and for all, that she too had a mind, a mind probably just as good as his, and that she was perfectly capable of making some decisions concerning their marriage-even if she did occasionally make a mistake.
The mere memory of what had happened after dinner last night made Paula's heart race furiously and she felt the blood rushing to her pretty face at the humiliating recollection of her own husband's cold, objective lecture about her "irresponsible conduct" ... as though she were some sort of capricious school child who needed to be rapped across her knuckles for naughtiness. All she had done was take advantage of a "once-in-a-lifetime sale" on needed household goods in a local department store, considering very carefully before she had bought the floor lamp and ... well, an electric blanket. They were things they should have and no doubt would have bought sooner or later anyway, but John had acted as though her decision had driven them to the verge of total bankruptcy. The whole thing was almost too silly to take seriously. After all, they made more than enough money to live on-and, really, who needed a bank account anyway after less than a year of marriage? Seriously, who did, she fumed to herself, thinking with resentment of her husband's cautiousness.
"Why do you always have to be such a grouch?"
Paula started at the sound of her own voice and, realizing that she had spoken her thoughts aloud, looked furtively around the waiting room, afraid that the receptionist or someone else might have overheard her voiced complaint. But the reception area was still deserted except for the busy red-head at the desk, who was still working the switchboard and writing out messages, oblivious, it seemed, to Paula's presence in the room. Her embarrassment quickly waned and was replaced by defiance again.
What if someone had heard her, she angrily asked herself. Perhaps, somehow, someone might have figured out who she was talking about and told John what she had said about him.
She hardly had the nerve to tell him anything and the fact that she always became so intimidated in his presence made her madder than ever, when she actually stopped to think about it in the light of their latest disagreement. All she ever said was, "Yes, darling,"
"No, darling,"
"I'm wrong again, darling," even when she knew perfectly well she was right-at least part of the time! Well, this time she was going to surprise him, really shock him, and be right for a change. As soon as she had a job, they would have so much more money that they would be able to afford a truly nice house as well as a healthy savings account ... and maybe that would do something badly needed for their sadly disintegrating sex life.
Paula sat up straight in her chair and her hand flew to her cheek in horror that she had even thought such a thing. For a moment she wondered at her own audacity at daring to even mentally criticize her own beloved husband's judgment in matters which she knew so little about. After all, except for a few sessions of back-seat petting in college, she had been virtually innocent when she .had married John, and he was the one male in her life who had ever taken the time and trouble to be patient and teach her what bit she knew about physical love. At least he had-in the beginning. But now that she was finally beginning to lose her fears, to relax and truly enjoy the sensation of her husband's hard penis pistoning in and out of her most secret place, instead of being frightened to death as she had been when they were first married, John seemed to be losing interest in her sexually.
There, she was thinking the same thing again, the pretty brunette realized with a sense of self-irritation. She had decided early in their marriage that it did her no good at all to question John's judgment in matters like this and yet ... and yet, there was obviously something wrong. Her cornflower-blue eyes clouded over with regret as she remembered the nights, seemingly so long ago, when John would spend hours coaxing her to do things that seemed so terrible, like actually touching his hard, lustfully throbbing penis before he put it into her, and he had always been right. They never hurt her and they had always provided both of them with a strange extra enjoyment. That is, all except for the weird things that he could never convince her to do, things that she haa heard about in school but did not really think normal people did. Lately, instead of talking about them, he became angry when she refused to let him perform those perverse acts with her, and angrier still, when she refused to do them to him. It was not as though she had not tried sometimes. God knows, she always wanted to keep him happy and in love with her, but she just couldn't force herself to go through with them, not and feel normal. Even now, in the business-like atmosphere of Mr. West's waiting room, she felt herself quivering with revulsion at the memory of one night, not long ago, when John had tried to push her head down under the sheets and then the coldness with which he had treated her afterward, when she had tearfully refused to obey him. Why wasn't he more understanding, she sadly wondered. Why couldn't he realize that she had fears and doubts just like anybody else?
CHAPTER TWO
"Mrs. Blake, Mr. West will see you now."
"Th-thank you," Paula muttered as she rose automatically, flustered by the sudden presence of the redheaded receptionist a few feet in front of her chair. Though she knew it was silly, she could not help but be embarrassed by the idea that she had been mulling over such personal things, right there in the anteroom of Mr. West's office. Suppose his receptionist had been able to tell what she had been thinking by the look on her face? It was ridiculous, she knew, and yet Paula felt relieved as she stepped into her husband's boss's office and heard the door shut quietly behind her.
"How do you do, Mrs. Blake," Charles West greeted smoothly as he rose courteously from his chair and extended his hand to the desirable, fresh-faced young brunette, a wide charming grin on his face. "It's certainly a pleasant surprise to see-I mean, meet you this afternoon. Now tell me, please, what can I do for you?"
"Well, Mr. West, It's a little complicated," Paula admitted slowly and rather shyly as she glanced covertly at the ruggedly handsome, middle-aged man who had seated himself again after making certain that she was comfortable in her own chair. From John's occasional descriptions of his boss's appearance and temperament, she had expected Mr. West to look like a little old wizened man and not at all the hearty, he-man-like individual seated before her. "You ... you are Mr. West aren't you?"
"Yes, the very same, my dear," he informed he with a broad chuckle. Charles' gaze intensified a; he drank in the sight of John Blake's young wife's lush, girlish figure, the birth of a notion sparking in his narrowing eyes. God, what a juicy little bitch, he thought with salacious delight. Her long coal black hair and big fluttery blue eyes were like something out of one of his wildest fantasies and her body, hell, his mouth was watering just looking at it. It was sensationally ravishing, an erotic dream, and he fully intended now to make that dream come true. God, how had that punk Blake every managed to land a sexy dish like this, he wondered in speculative astonishment. Charles' mind was already working on the interesting possibilities of getting a devilish revenge against his forgetful magazine editor as well as reaping the sexual fruit of the fool's savory little wife. He smiled suavely and murmured suggestively, "Well, I'm sure I have enough time for a lovely young girl like you. Here, why don't you sit down over there, on the couch, where we can be comfortable during our chat?"
"Thank you, Mr. West," Paula replied in a soft but uncertain voice as she rose and followed the important, older man to the plush black tweed couch that lined the span of almost one entire wall of the huge, sumptuously decorated office. Her thoughts reverted automatically back to John's words about this man, his employer, that he was "a powerful, dynamic leader of men," but all she could think of at the moment was how Charles West's penetrating gaze threatened to bore right through her clothes to her bare flesh when he stood for what seemed an eternity beside the couch, above her. She felt a cold shiver of apprehension course through her, as though his piercing eyes were stripping her bare, and the ever-fatherly, too-friendly, tone of voice he used with her made her feel even more uncomfortable and worried.
"It-it's very kind of you to see me without my having made an appointment," she excused herself, carefully avoiding his eyes as she settled herself more sedately on the sofa, struggling not to betray her discomfort around him.
"No, not at all," he reassured expansively. He recognized the sudden fear blazing clearly in the beautiful girl's blue eyes when she caught him blatantly inspecting her stunning, voluptuous body and he realized with lecherous delight that she was no doubt just as young and innocent as she seemed to be. Christ, what else should be expected, since she was married to Blake, he concluded sarcastically. And that was all the better for him, the boss, for what could be more fun than introducing this perky-looking, hot little piece of exciting ass to a couple of things that she could take home to show her husband? He would make Charles West a name that her husband would remember for the rest of his life. But first, Charles decided, he would have to make this sweet young bitch feel more at home with him, not so touchy and afraid. He could hardly wait to get his eager hands and mouth on those ripe alluring curves of soft flesh and bring her to a grand pitch abandonment and ecstasy that would make her beg, beg for what he had to give her-good hard cock!
But she had to be ready, he reminded himself, just to relish the youthful choiceness of her tender, intoxicating body from a discreet distance.
"Forgive me for staring at you, my dear," he said softly with the same sly practiced sincerity that he used so often with the more difficult members of his board of directors. "I don't know quite how to say this, but I certainly never expected John's wife to be so ... so attractive ... and intelligent, too, I imagine."
"Oh, thank you for being so kind, sir, but I'm just a plain housewife and probably don't deserve so much praise," Paula demurred, yet was secretly pleased that the handsome mature man had immediately discerned the very thing that she had been trying so hard to show John. It was rewarding to be flattered so generously and the conversation was going so easily that she could not resist the temptation to get directly to the point. "Most men don't think a mere wife needs any brains to function, but I'd like to show John that that's not really true."
"Oh, that's too bad. I didn't know you two were having any trouble. I'm afraid I can't understand how any man could possibly underestimate a charming woman like you. You can tell me about it, if you want to ... And please, call me Charles," he said good-naturedly, tilting his face downwards to conceal the little smile of triumph that was twitchiing at the corners of his mouth. Holy Christ, he had already found the key to this gorgeous girl's emotions-on his very first attempt-not to mention what was surely the way into her pants! There was no doubt about it, John Balke did not know how to handle his tasty young wife, but, by God, he, Charles West, certainly did ... more than she knew ... and he would keep on understanding her so well that she would still be thanking him for his kindness when he gained control of her luscious body. "Now, would you like to have a bit of refreshment with me?"
"Well, I...." Paula blushed faintly as she tried to make up her mind about the wisdom of accepting a drink with John's boss.
"Oh, come on, we can talk more easily if we're relaxed," Charles encouraged, a sudden flash of inspiration triggering his scheming mind on to fresh designs.
"Ummm, well, yes, I guess I'd like a small one," she heard herself say, even though she had never imagined that she would become friendly so quickly with her husband's employer. Though it was already well into the afternoon and John would be getting off work in a few hours, the delicious brunette decided courageously that it could not hurt to talk with this obviously warm-hearted man for a while longer. After all, he had immediately understood her predicament, the kind of problem she was having in her marriage, and she definitely needed someone to commiserate with her anyway. Besides, she was almost positive now that she would get the job whenever she worked up the necessary bravery to ask for it. It would be nice to become friends with her future employer-perhaps even convenient. "Uh, Charles," she began hesitantly, using his first name for the first time as she watched the tall, brawny man walk quickly toward an ornately carved Spanish cabinet on the other side of the commodious office, "please don't make mine too strong. I ... I haven't had much experience at drinking."
"Don't worry yourself, because I'm just going to give you a bit of rare Middle Eastern liqueur. It's special, some stuff I had imported," Charles assured her, still grinning.
And you, my dear, are going to find out just how special it is in a few minutes, Charles chortled to himself with a vulgar grin as he withdrew a crystal decanter from an ornate liquor chest in the corner of the room. As he reached inside for two cordial glasses, the gloating executive peered surreptitiously over his shoulder, slyly feasting his eyes on Paula's exciting, sensual body like some sort of monarch about to enjoy a ritual sacrifice. He could barely wait to see the effect this drink would have on her, to watch her sweet, innocent face when she first began to feel the effects of the potent aphrodesiac on her nervous system. This lemon-flavored liqueur was generously spiked with pardrone and Charles knew from his own lewd experience that there was not a single woman in the world who could successfully resist its legendary lust-producing powers. He poured an ample portion of the liquid in the glasses he planned to give Paula and then measured out an equally large dose for himself, just in case he might need a bit of extra stimulation after his delightful session with Ursula earlier that afternoon. But he doubted he would need it, not with such a fresh, naturally-arousing young morsel of female flesh such as Paula around. Hell, he could already feel his prick beginning to jump impatiently in his trousers, just at the idea of ramming it in someone as young and magnificently formed as Paula Blake appeared to be. The fact that she was married to that intellectual kid, John Blake, who had slighted him so rudely in his own magazine, made the prospect all the more pleasing to think of.
Actually, he was not even really interested in his revenge anymore, Charles decided with a feeling of irony, as he turned from the liquor cabinet and walked back briskly toward the opulent tweed couch. Seducing young Blake's pretty wife had been merely an intriguing idea at first but now he was much more excited by the nearness and fragrant scent of the naive, full-breasted girl seated on the couch before him. He had fucked a lot of women in his life but seldom did a man find an opportunity to get his hands on anything as sweet and fuckable as the thrilling, raven-haired young housewife who was now smiling up at him gratefully as he handed her the brimming glass of aphrodesiac he had poured and she unsuspectingly accepted. The beautiful Mrs. Blake might even try to play hard-to-get, at least at first, and that would make it all the more fun, watching her being slowly subjugated despite all the moral values and idiotic principles that she had obviously built up into a kind of fortress during the relatively short span of her life. Seeing all that crumble in one cataclysmic fall, when he rammed his stiff cock deep between her soon-to-be wide-spread legs, would be a pleasure that was well worth working for and one that should not be bought too easily. It might cost him a pretty penny to purchase a rare aphrodesiac like this, and to maintain an office as impressive as this one, but that was a cheap price to pay for the ultimate thrill of that one final irreparable lunge of his penis into a tight, obviously little-used pussy like hers.
Charles pictured the almost angelic-faced brunette lying flat on her back with her long, splendid legs pried wide apart and just the thought of the helpless mewling grunts of pleasure he would force from her soft, pink lips goaded his limp prick into aching hardness inside his trousers, so that he was obliged to sit down hurriedly beside her before the throbbing bulge betrayed his true intentions.
"Oh, I really do like this drink," Paula beamed with a smile of surprise after she had lifted her glass and taken a small experimental sip. It tasted like a sweet liquid lemon and went down very smoothly, like velvet. She lifted her glass again and took a longer sip, relishing the satiny sweetness.
"Now isn't that better, my dear? Drink up," Charles chuckled, smirking to himself as he raised his own glass and drained it with one great gulp. He watched the innocent wife finish off the contents of her glass and had to resist the temptation to pour them each a second portion. But he knew he had to be careful. After all, the little lady would be going home to her husband that evening and Charles found himself wondering sardonically if the forgetful punk would even know what to do if his choice little wife suddenly began to behave like a sex-crazed slut. It would be interesting to observe some other time, he thought, but for now he would have to watch his step until he had her completely under his influence, which, if he had his way, would not take very long to accomplish.
"So, then, tell me about your problems, Paula," the older man said in a fake but convincingly paternal tone of voice as he settled his husky frame back into the softness of the cream-colored tweed sofa, his hip a scant few inches from her sleekly formed thigh. With studied nonchalence, he slipped one arm up on the cushions behind her shoulders, leaning closer toward her as he added jovially, "I can't imagine any problem with John that you couldn't handle with just a flutter of those eyelashes of yours."
"Oh, Charles, this is serious," she protested almost gaily, giggling in spite of herself. Strangely, she was already beginning to feel the effects of the drink he had given her, a warm, suphoric light-headedness and slight tingling sensation all over her soft ivory flesh, and suddenly she was no longer as afraid of this wealthy imposing man who was now sitting so close to her.
Having made up her mind to be absolutely frank with Charles, she looked down at her hands clasped in her lap and slowly announced, "John doesn't take me seriously at all, Mr. West ... I mean, Charles. No matter what I do, to him I'm either stupid or just plain wrong, and to tell you the truth, I'm getting awfully tired of it. I want to show him that I have a good mind and am perfectly capable of using it!"
"Of course, my dear, of course you can," Charles soothed as he reached over and patted her arm to confirm his words. "And I'm sure that together, you and I will be able to figure out a way to show him that you're not someone who deserves to be sold short. As a matter-of-fact, if you weren't married to John, you'd probably have a career of your own and, if you don't mind my saying so, there would be quite a few men after your beautiful young body."
Paula shivered slightly from the abrupt change of tone in his voice and at the unexpected boldness of his somehow clammy touch. Before, he had been gracious and rather fatherly, protective in his understanding of her marital troubles with John, but now, suddenly, he had changed in a matter of minutes. And she also detected a certain brazen confidence in his manner that frightened her and for some reason, made her feel even more apprehensive that she had felt when she had first walked into his office.
She picked up her glass again, hoping to find more of the comforting warmth that the liquer had given her, but she found that her glass was empty.
"I think that one of those is enough for you," the middle-aged publisher advised her with a deep laugh as he caught her staring down unhappily into her glass. As the exquisitely-shaped young brunette looked up at him in confused dismay, he grinningly added, "Well, we wouldn't want you to go home drunk, would we? Your husband might think that you were out doing something naughty this afternoon, instead of staying home to be the good little housekeeper he thinks you are."
"Yes, while he's interviewing all those beautiful models all day in his office," Paula said bitterly, unknowingly echoing Charles' own thoughts of earlier that afternoon. Sitting up straight then on the plush couch, she suddenly shook out her long, glistening coal-black tresses in a gesture of angry defiance. "Maybe I should do something naughty for a change, to show him that he can't always take me so much for granted. I'm not just a piece of furniture in his house, you know!"
"Pll say this, dear ... if you were, I'd like "to buy out the store where he bought you," Charles smiled, nodding his head up and down. "In any case, believe me, you're much more beautiful than all of those other gorgeous girls who keep floating in and out of his office all the time."
Clucking softly, he reached over and draped his arm around her wispy waist, tightening his hold as he pulled her close back against his broad muscular shoulder. She little realized what she was doing as she allowed herself to fall limply back against him, all the fight taken out of her by Charles' last words about her husband's constant contact with the lovely models. She had never dared to ask John who actually found and hired all those girls in the magazine but now a terrible suspicion began to form in her mind about why their own sex life was suffering so much. Good God, if a man had dozens of beautiful sexy women in his office every day, why would he bother to care about his devoted wife who was always waiting at home for him? Why should he take the time to discuss strange and unusual sex acts, though, when he could undoubtably find all the variation he wanted right in the privacy of his own office? Surely they would gladly do all he asked, and more, even worse perverted acts than his own dumb little wife could think of, the brunette reasoned in a sudden fury of jealousy. Maybe, just maybe it was because John was even more of a stranger to her than she had imagined lately; maybe he got some sort of evil thrill out of having a faithful wife as someone he could always count on and a stable of pretty girls at the same time.
The hurtful humiliation that had plagued her ever since their argument the night before, was suddenly magnified a thousandfold and a slow, biting anger seethed inside her, burning away the tears that had begun to form from the shock of the notion that had just occurred to her.
But her thoughts were brought to a swift halt as Charles slipped his hand slowly up along her side and cupped her delicate ribcage warmly in his palm, under her breast. He could see the change in her expression as the suggestive hint of the proposal of her also doing something naughty he had planted in her slowly blurring brain took better hold and he waited, knowing that at any moment the padrone would begin its gradual conscience-killing effect on her unguarded nervous system. He knew it would not be long now before this bewitching little creature was his, in his own personal trophy bag. She was not quite ready yet, but in a few minutes at the most, the aphrodesiac and a little friendly persuasion on his part would quell any resistance that she had left to frustrate his plans for her.
Paula's wakening body stiffened momentarily as she felt the older man's hand daringly caressing her full right breast, stroking and squeezing the gently palpitating white flesh until a delicious fluttery feeling began to take command of her nerves. She flushed with guilt as she felt a shameful fleeting desire to press the satin-smooth quivering mound more solidly into her husband's boss' excitedly sweating palm. Something strange was happening to her mind and body, something that she was absolutely powerless to understand, and she squirmed her smoothly rounded young buttocks nervously against the corded edge of the couch cushion, trembling with disbelief as she felt the shocking electrical contact against the soft hair-lined lips of her moistening pussy under her navy-blue dress and silken panties. God, it was horrible to admit, but it felt better than anything she had ever felt in her life and, powerless to restrain herself, she ground her hips down furtively with greater force against the cushion edge as her breath began to quicken more and more. Could she be drunk from that one innocent drink that Charles had given her, Paula wondered with breathless perplexity as she felt the nipples of her breasts grow twitchingly hard in unwanted physical arousal. She had only been joking when she had said that she should do something "naughty" and now it was all she could do not to throw herself wantonly on Charles West and press her blazingly hot body against his.
She shuddered and chilled from the sexual acceleration that thinking something forbidden gives, even while still struggling to resist the sensations of raw forbidden lust that were now pulsing maddening through her surging veins.
"This couch is almost like a bed, isn't it?" Charles' low voice insinuated into her thoughts. "Are you comfortable, my dear? How do you feel now?"
"Fu ... funny ... I-I don't know...." she answered in a strange other-worldly voice, her girlish heart pounding savagely in her rapidly moving chest. She was aware of nothing but Charles' brazen fingertips rubbing lightly over her painfully erect nipples under her dress, stopping occasionally to pinch each one to an even more stinging hardness and causing a series of ripples of fantastic sensations to dance freely through her alerted nerves each time he did it. Her breath was steadily quickening, coming in tight gasps as the burning sensation in her trim little belly grew with maddening intensity. She knew that she was in trouble now, trouble of her own doing, but also knew that she should not allow John's boss to squeeze and knead her breasts this way. Still, though, she did not really want to estrange this warm, suddenly exciting man who had, until a short time ago, been so gentle and compassionate with her.
"Please, Mr. West, I m-mean, Charles," she objected weakly as she tried desperately to collect her muddled thoughts. "I ... I came to talk to you about ... about a job. I have to ... to prove...."
"You don't have to prove anything to me, baby," Charles growled suddenly in obscene delight as he saw the helpless confusion that was registering on Paula's vibrant young face. "If that punk husband of yours isn't man enough for you, there's someone here who is!"
Charles jerked her head abruptly toward him with his heavy hand and pressed his muggy lips wetly to her, grinding his mouth tightly against her mouth, The terrified young wife groaned and struggled uselessly for a sudden panicky moment, felling his hand pressing then even more demandingly into the pillowy softness of her ivory breast.
"Relax, baby," he whispered into the fragrant warmth of her full-fleshed young lips. "Just let yourself go ... and you won't be sorry."
CHAPTER THREE
Uncertain of what she should do, Paula let herself go almost completely limp as he had commanded, surprised at the softness of his lips pressing onto her moist mouth. The thought crossed her befuddled mind that this was the first time another man had kissed her since she had been married. She had practically forgotten what it was like and had to admit to herself that he did know what he was doing, that he actually seemed fairly accomplished as a lover. In spite of what she considered was valiant effort on her part to resist any emotional response whatsoever, she could feel tiny, butterfly-like ripples of pleasure flitting suddenly through her nervously quivering stomach. Without conscious will, she allowed her arms to entwine tightly behind his head, but then, as she felt the short bristly hairs that grew from the nape of his thick, muscular neck, so different from the soft, curling tendrils, almost silk-like, that always hung over John's shirt collar, Paula drew back reflexively in startled horror. What was she doing with this strange man, her own husband's boss? What on earth was wrong with her?
"No, Charles, no we can't ... can't do this," she cried out in real fright as she tried to twist away from his insistant, presumptuous embrace.
"Why not, baby?" Charles whispered, breathing thickly, sliding one hand down to the soft roundness of her enticing young buttocks and pulling her loins forward rudely until her dress slithered far up her smooth creamy thigh which pressed tightly against the rough woolen fabric of his trousers. "Your dear hubby is probably down there playing between one of his models legs this very minute. What's the matter, are you afraid to even the score a little?"
Paula's desirable young body tensed as she felt Charles begin to recklessly massage the smoothly curved cheeks of her buttocks, squeezing them and releasing them with a hypnotic rhythm that stirred her from head to foot. He twisted toward her, forcing her loins hard against his own anxious loins, and ground ruthlessly against her, his mouth still locked wetly to hers. She gasped in astonishment and held her breath as she felt the bulging hardness under his pants press demandingly into the tender plane of her soft young belly. The sweet lemon liqueur drifted lazily through her bloodstream, intensifying the unwanted, uncontrollable sensations beginning to course through her aroused body. The brunette's wide brown eyes clenched firmly shut as she fought the vile seduction of her body with all of her strength, but the gentle urgency of his fingers digging greedily into her flesh, and the hardness of his excitedly rising penis pressing into her stomach tnrougn her dress, brought further soft moans of helpless submission tumbling from her open lips. Her very wantonness and Charles' slyly insinuated hint that her own husband might be committing adultery with some beautiful model at this very minute in this very building were slowly taking their full toll on the innocent girl's tortured mind.
"Christ, but you're stacked, baby. I'm going to really enjoy this little fuck."
"Oh, don't, please don't talk like that," Paula whimpered like a child as she felt the lewd but delicious sensations still tingling across the alert surface of her skin at the sound of the indecent word. "No one h-has ever said anything like that to me! N-not even John!"
"Always a first time for everything, love," Charles chuckled lewdly, dropping his hand down further between their tightly clamped bodies to stroke the lithe suppleness of her lower belly with a teasing lightness.
"Oh God, don't touch me there! You can't," she moaned, her awakened body slack and defenseless from the strange erotic sensations that seemed to be taking complete control of her innocent young being. She jerked slightly as she felt Charles' fingers hooking and sliding the material of her prim little dress up the front of her thighs. She sobbed in dazed bewilderment, and tried again to pull away, calling upon all her willpower to fight the blazing tongues of lust that were slowly overwhelming her, the heated flames of forbidden desire licking downward from the pit of her stomach to tease hotly in the moistly rising wetness between her thighs.
"Sweetie, I'm going to fuck you and you're going to love it. It'll teach that goddamned smart-ass young husband of yours to get his mind off his models long enough to remember to put my picture in my own magazine," Charles grinned, gloating. "And whenever you get bored with what you're getting at home, you'll always know, by God, where you can come to get some real cock."
Paula gasped and shivered with apprehension as she felt the hem of her dress being moved up to the tops of her golden-tanned legs and his searching fingers some directly into contact with the tender sensitive flesh of her satiny inner thighs. Her thoughts whirled incoherently as she heard her own hot breathing in the office, the silence growing otherwise to be a noticeable thing as the minutes went by. The sound of a slight cotton-like rustle of fabric whispered with her breathing as the hem of her skirt rubbed against the black, unyielding surface of. the couch. God, it was driving her crazy!!
She -edged her pubic mound slowly up closer to the illicit pleasure of his hand, her hardened little clitoris beating invitingly against the wetness of her panty crotchband. Then, unexpectedly, one fingertip found the narrow sensitive slit of her vagina between her slightly spread thighs and pressed the protective nylon material wetly into it, parting the fleecy, surrounding hair and making sudden exciting contact with the tiny throbbing head of her inflamed clitoris. It was wet and slippery from the involuntary pangs of pure desire that filled her entire being and she sucked in her breath noisily to hold back the shameful groan of pleasure that was building deep in her chest. She did not dare to make a sound, for Charles would know how weak she really was-that physically she was every bit as lustful as he was. She could do nothing but lie back against the back of the couch, helplessly vulnerable, as he roamed his hands deliberately over her hotly-responding body, taking obscene liberties with her as he wished. There was no way she knew to ward him off as in her horror she realized that her aroused body was reacting on its own to his bold caressing of her passion-seared buttocks and vagina. Her panties were now totally drenched up between her legs and her luscious white buttocks were squirming without shame to the teasing manipulations of his hand rummaging in her loins.
"Please, C-Charles, you mustn't do this to me," she wailed admonishingly, half-heartedly attempting to invest her tone with an authoritative note of accusation. But her own voice betrayed her, seeming to come from far away, a frail, shaky sound that was not at all what she had intended. Her brain was sinking in a swamp of vagueness and lassitude, and only the feverish, burning palpitations in her full breasts and white loins mattered now. She knew she was being taken advantage of, cruelly, but still nothing mattered at that moment but the thrilling sexual stirrings that were steadily taking over her young mind and body.
"All right, baby, if that's the way you want it," Charles' sneering voice sliced suddenly into her doped consciousness, "then maybe we ought to forget the whole thing."
Charles rose abruptly from her side, his nostrils flaring with faked anger. He knew the aphrodesiac had taken its toll and that he was in no real danger of losing her if he had his fun and tormented her a while longer.
Paula was alone in that instant, lying sprawled on the cream-colored tweed sofa that belonged to a complete stranger, her own husband's employer, her arms dangling down uselessly at her sides as she stared, bewildered, up at Charles West standing above her, grinning down at her with leering, merciless impertinence. She could not wholly understand the full lascivious meaning implied by his evil expression and could concentrate only on the fire now blazing out of control up between her legs, making her almost-virginal breasts swell and tighten more, the lean white surface of her stomach contracting automatically in a slow tortuous writhing motion. Her breathing was labored, rising and falling with the effort of her excitement.
"Go on home then, you silly little bitch," he taunted, backing away from her voluptuously quivering body with a scornful laugh. "Go on home to that cheating husband of yours and your brooms and mops, and forget about the job you want ... the one in the photography department I had in mind for you. Hell, that kind of job takes a real woman, not a snivelling young homebody."
Paula gaped up at him in wonderment, her lust-fogged mind unable to comprehend the total meaning of what she was hearing. Before, her feelings had been an odd mixture of relief and disappointment when her husband's boss had suddenly decided to deprive her of his thrill-provoding caresses, but now she was becoming uncertain and wrenched by misgiving. A job such as the one he had mentioned was something she had dreamed of, a sort of passport to a land of interesting people and adventurous parties, a land that might make even John respect her as a real person. God, it would be so easy, she thought yearningly; so easy just to forget and let go, to spread her legs wide and do what John's boss wanted her to do. The way she felt right now, with tide after tide of mind-reeling desire rising ever higher in her, dizzying and confusing her until she could barely think, it might be a kind of relief to succumb to him, to satisfy this weird blazing inferno inside her youthful limbs. Yet, she wanted to have this middle-aged, imposing man standing over her; she wanted him almost more than she had ever wanted anything in her life; but even in the tempting stress of the moment, she knew that she could not do anything that harsh and basically unfair to her husband. No, she loved him too much to ever let some fleeting affair jeopardize their life together. What could she had been thinking of when she allowed her youthful body to respond so passionately to Charles' lewd suggestions, she wondered as she straightened her still-trembling form up determinedly on the couch. She pulled down her dress to cover the white lacy panties that were exposed to Charles' view.
"Don't think your brainy husband's position in the company is all that secure, either," the publisher grumbled brutishly as he watched his delectable prey struggling with her conscience. "Possibly, you would've saved him his job ... something any real wife should be happy to do." He shrugged with feigned indifference, his voice fading as he turned away from her expression of fearful attention. She stared at him in meek subservience, still unable to speak or show that she understood what he was saying. It was as though she had fallen into the grip of some kind of waking nightmare and, finally, she smiled hopefully, wishing that her tormentor would relent and admit that the whole thing was merely a joke. But the stony glare on his face convinced her that no reprieve was in store.
Oh God, would John ever understand, ever trust her again if he somehow found out about this, this silly attempt to prove herself a woman? No, she decided, he would never be able to forgive her for this idiotic mistake, not after last night's argument. At this point, Paula could not even bring herself to object when Charles sat down beside her again and began with insulting calmness to unzip the side of , her dress. What was even more humiliating, she knew that she really wanted him to-that she wanted to be naked and have her lust-crazed body kissed and caressed until the unwanted fires in her blood were mercifully quenched.
She gazed down miserably at the thickly-carpeted floor, the chasm of torment between her shame and drug-induced desire making her eyes fill with tears of embarrassed frustration. All her young life she had been in control, at movies and even in the back seats of cars when boys had tried to take advantage of her-to use her lush body-but now she was defenseless against this sadistically-smiling man ... and worse yet, against herself also.
"So you want a job, eh?" Charles West hissed down into Paula's beautifully pathetic face. With the single hard downward jerk he ripped the zipper of her dress all the way down to the split of cleavage at the top of her ass-cheeks. She could feel the cool rush of air against her naked skin as he stripped it rudely up and over her urgently-clamoring buttocks. Next came the fastenings of her brassiere and she heard him utter an appreciative sigh of obscene approval as he jerked it away and her ripely huge young breasts burst into view.
Now that it was really happening, she could not quite grasp the whole meaning of the older man's crudeness ... his threats ... his cruelty.
Suddenly, Charles dropped to his knees in front of her as she tettered above him, hooking his fingers in the elastic band at the top of her panties as he pulled them with teasing slowness down over the softness of her full, round buttocks until, they bunched in a skimpy, silky ring down around her ankles. Completely naked now, Paula rose and stood before the big man in all her prick-stiffening beauty, like a Venus, gazing down at him on his knees in front of her. She saw a wickedly satisfied smile on his face and felt herself sway dangerously, almost losing her balance when she felt him breathe hotly against her butter-smooth tummy and then press his moist lips wetly against the white, bare flesh just above her pubic vee.
God, what bliss! ... The wet touch of his tongue sent a responsive shiver through her and she reached down with both hands to hold on as well as she could to his head to keep from falling. Mistaking this as a sign of submission, Charles dropped his lips lower to the soft black pubic hair surrounding her vaginal slit and kissed the slight moistness gleaming on the excitedly pulsating lips. She jumped with alarm from the sudden shocking contact and lost what balance she had, staggering backwards toward the couch. The edge of the cushion caught her just below both knees and she fell, sprawling almost flat on her back on the soft tweed, her legs opening wide as she landed. He leaped forward and caught her in that position as she tried feebly to kick and close her legs. The panting bulky man crawled up on the couch, running his hot tongue over his lips to savor the sweet young pungency of her female aroma left there, kissing her nakedly stripped flesh like a conquering warrior.
He crouched between her legs on his knees and elbows as he leered lewdly down at her, his white, even teeth showing through his lewdly grimacing lips as he grinned down at the delicious feast of her youthful squirming nakedness. Holding her legs with his hands, he pressed his knees out against her ankles and leaned down further to place his sweat-dampened palms against the delicate tender whiteness of the insides of her thighs. She wanted to put up a struggle, some sort of real resistance against this indignity, but she seemed to be totally unable to push him away and so just lay there with her eyes open wide in abject terror. She could not fathom her behavior or why she could even bear to have this foul beast in the same room with her, let alone touching her secret place with his mouth as he had a moment ago.
She could see him haunched down on all fours between her wide-spread thighs, grinning up at her between her lush upstanding breasts as though he were a beast of prey ready to pounce on its helpless, fear-stricken victim and devour it in a savage sexually driven feast. Saliva dripped from his open mouth and fell on her narrow, slightly wet vaginal split, mingling with her own juices there. She could sense it trailing down between the smooth soft cheeks of her buttocks in a teasing little tickling sensation.
"You're going to love this, baby," he hissed. She could feel his sweating pains press outward against her creamy white inner thighs, holding them wide apart. Her fearfully cringing vagina was totally naked to him, open to do as he willed, and she watched with a small gasp as his head lowered slowly, slowly, and then his breath was coursing hotly over her genitals again.
"Ooooh, pleeeeeease!" the beautiful young brunette jerked as his lips closed moistly over the soft furry mound at the base of her belly. His face disappeared from her view into the soft pubic region as he planted maddenly tortuous kisses on the still defensively closed little opening, his tongue flicking out like a tiny snake into the sparse blonde pubic hairs on the quivering cuntal flanges, tickling and nipping at them with his teeth. The unexpected wet searing contact with the sensitive, throbbing opening of her inflamed vagina brought a gasping moan from deep in Paula's throat. She had never let anyone do this to her and, though it sent strange sensations of pleasure rippling out of control through her body, she was certain that she should make some attempt to stop this terrible, perverted act. She clenched her eyes tightly shut and tried desperately to screw her buttocks away from the hot flicking tongue jabbing without mercy into her defenseless pussy, but his only response was a lewd snicker and another spearing thrust into the hot, tingling hole.
In spite of her revulsion at the horrible thing he was doing to her, Paula felt her ripe young body begin to respond with deep-rooted waves of passion that rippled in her heaving belly, down to the throbbing flesh between her thighs. Even in her drug-dimmed mind, she could barely believe what she was doing and yet her buttocks jerked madly as the darting tongue sent helpless spasms of delicious sensation coursing through her raw nerves. The realization that she was actually enjoying the obscene caresses of a virtual stranger, behind her husband's back, came flooding back into her consciousness and she fought with all her will against the tiny licking sparks that threatened to burst into uncontrollable flame and devour her in her helplessness, but it was futile effort while Charles West sucked relentlessly at her naked wet loins below.
She felt his hands move sensuously up over her stomach to her full, involuntarily throbbing breasts. He pinched the pink little buds of her nipples to painful erection, sending shivers of unwanted pleasure all through her nerves, betraying her mind and conscience like invisible Judas-like pin pricks of wonderful sensuality. It was the result of her fear, Paula thought, grasping desperately for an explanation of the desire rising in her; it was the emotional shock of being blackmailed and earlier imagining her own husband making love to the ravishing models in his office ... in this very building ... Had he really cheated her that way? How could she ever ask him now? Paula wondered desparingly as she envisioned her marriage crumbling to ashes as a result of this terrible afternoon.
The terrified naked girl was hardly even aware of her present surroundings and could not clearly remember all that had happened since she had first entered her husband's employer's office. Nothing registered but the obscene currents of passionate fever racing in her blook along with the potent Middle Eastern aphrodesiac that she had innocently drunk such a short time ago.
Her own hands moved down over his hands on her full breasts, pressing them harder against the soft white mounds and then pushing them aside impatiently so that she could cup them firmly in her palms. Then, growing bolder as the itch of lust increased in every atom of hm of her young body, she released her breasts and slid her hands down over her smooth, flat tummy, her finers finally coming to a halt on either side of his hotly nibbling mouth. Her fingertips stroked gently for a moment at the flexing hollows of her inner thighs and then moved in to slowly spread apart the fleshy pulsing lips of her moist throbbing cuntal furrow, allowing his eager probing tongue complete access to the thin, vertical little mouth of her pussy. Her elbows pressed tightly against her ribs and her head looked uncontrollably from side to side on the cream-colored tweed of the couch arm as her husband's boss, Charles' hot searing tongue shot out, its soft flicking tip circling the erectness of the tremulously quivering clitoris.
"Ooooooohhh," she moaned, her silken black hair shimmering in the bright illumination of the golden sunlight through the penthouse office window. He sucked with his lips drawing the soft warm folds of her vaginal opening deep into the hot cavern of his mouth, his tongue continuing its maddening licking against the straining pink nodule of her sex. She groaned huskily from deep in her throat as the hot busy tip worked its way up and down the length of the narrow wet crevice, starting at the top and pressuring its way down, down over the elastic portal of flesh surrounding her vagina and lower into the valley of her now rhythmically flexing buttocks where it paused momentarily to pay a wet probing homage to the tight brown ring of sensitive rubbery skin circling her throbbing little asshole.
"Yessssss, ooooooh yeeessssss," Paula gasped now shamelessly encouraging him as her whitely curved hips ground down hard into the tweed cushion, her whole lower body writhing out of control as whining little animal sounds of rising desire escaped pitifully from between her tightly clenched teeth. Charles labored like a madman between his young editor's wife's widely gaping thighs, feeling the soft wet pubic hair brushing tantalizingly against the cheeks of his face. He felt a sense of tremendous power he had never imagined possible, not even in his wildest fantasies. He actually had this almost virginal young beauty squirming under his merciless tongue, loving it, begging for it, groaning louder each time he drove the tip of his oral member deeper into the steaming hot crevice of her vagina....Shit, this was even better than he had expected and now he wanted to hear her beg for more, to plead for more of the debasement that would undermine her very soul and enslave her completely. Not even the powerful aphrodesiac had fired up the other girls he had seduced to this pitch of excitement, he thought, relishing the fact that the lovely raven-haired wife had no way of knowing that this was only the beginning for her. The brawny slavering millionaire realized that she was too far gone to resist anything he might plan for her and in his mind he began to luxuriate in the expectation of all the "parties" and "gangfucks" he would arrange for his business associates, once this lovely little piece began work in the photography department.
Charles chortled obscenely as he felt Paula Blake's slender fingers clawing at his thick, grey-flecked hair, trying to grasp his head in a desperately driven effort to guide his male face to the palpitating opening of her naked cunt. He ran his tongue out farther into the soft-rimmed flesh, flicking and swirling it for a moment in the moistness, and then quickly withdrawing it to tease again around the ragged, pinkly throbbing pussy lips. She responded by screwing her loins higher, searching, and her hands locked tightly behind his head to pull him harder against her upthrust groin. He allowed her to force him this time and locked his mouth vice-like over the tight little hole between her now hungrily squirming buttocks.
As his mouth rounded out in a large "O" shape and his lips covered the clasping viscous opening, Charles thrust his tongue further in, bringing a low guttural moan from the beautiful girl whose soft warm thighs closed convulsively around both sides of his bobbing head. He would feel the wet young cuntal flesh slip moistly around his long extended tongue as the walls of the young woman's lewdly violated vagina opened and closed spasmodically in a tiny, thirsty sucking motion, trying to pull the maddening scarlet lance deeper and deeper into it. It felt as though the hungry nibbling pussy would pull out his tongue by the roots and devour it alive. His nose was mashed tightly against the tiny hard clitoris above, eagerly breathing in the pungent odor of her freely flowing lust juices. The musky aroma of her female arousal incited his cock to a hardness that he could hardly control ... Jesus Christ, he was nearing the brink of insanity himself and was afraid that his balls would suddenly erupt to splatter his impatient cum all over his expensive, tailor-made trousers!
Paula's entire being was adrift in the fiery tide of the moment, Every single muscle in her girlish body was tensed to the snapping point as she strained her naked vaginal plane upward toward the thrilling wet probe between her trembling thighs. Oh God, it was more ecstatically exciting than anything she had ever felt or believed could be! She had never realized that sex could be like this and her updrawn legs squeezed open and shut around the tormenting head fastened hard on her flame-seared hole, milking all she could of the pleasure it gave her.
"Aaaaaaahhhhhh," she groaned, the cords of her slender neck flexing as she writhed. The brunette splayed her legs even wider to grant him full access of her delicious young loins as she frantically darted both of her hands to his ears, tugging forward on them until he thought she would virtually rip them off.
Confident now of the complete surrender of her enraptured body, Charles suddenly forced his head from the clutching grip of her hands and stood up beside the couch. Paula blinked dizzily at him, totally and agonizingly aware that she had lost his pleasure-giving mouth. Unconsciously, she squirmed her now desperately wanting loins up in an arch in the air as if someone would magically appear to drench the raw, animal fires that were raging out of control within her hungry loins.
Suddenly she realized that her husband's boss was stripping off his clothes, dropping them piece by piece onto the carpet at his feet. Less than a minute later, he was standing over her, completely naked, his thick pulsing penis jutting out like a gleaming white tree trunk from between his hairy legs. She stared openly at the heavily-veined shaft of flesh rising with the ominous aspect of a totem pole from beneath Charles' slightly paunchy belly. Her senses were now so riled that she could barely focus her eyes. The throbbing organ seemed to be at least twice as large of her husband's, its broad head huge and spreading out even more as she watched. She cringed inwardly, thinking that no woman could possibly take something that monstrous and hard up inside her body ... She would be split asunder, torn, forever ruined and of no use to any man again, husband or lover.
"What do you think of this, baby? Have you ever seen a cock as big as this before?" he asked crudely, his lips curled back in a wicked sneer as he took the massive penis in both hands and waved it obscenely at her fearfully bulging eyes.
Paula lay frozen under the appalling crudity of his obscene wordss-and yet their very lewdness excited her more and more, so that she was at a loss to understand her own reactions to what was happening. She could feel the increasing moisture seeping out her pussy walls and crossed her legs to press them closer together, trying to ease the burning sensation that was churning madly in the pit of her slim belly. Charles' fervent licking and sucking of her inexperienced young vagina had turned her entire body into a tense bundle of raw nerve-ends that she was powerless to control. She continued to stare at the impassioned publisher's hard cock as it grew even larger, a granite-hard pole of flesh that was an inflamed pink right up to the collar of skin under the head. The head itself was purplish, larger in diameter than the base, like a knuckleless fist at the end of an upraised arm. He was enjoying the insulting effect it was having on her as he pointed the semen-oozing tip directly at her face.
"Answer me," he barked. "How do you like my nice big prick? Wouldn't you love to have it shoved up between those pretty legs of yours?"
"I-I don't know ... It ... it's so big," Paula stammered, hating herself for not obeying her instinct to rise and flee from the office, from him and the certainty of what was soon to happen. But the potent aphrodesiac he had given her, plus everything else that had happened so far that afternoon to break down her defenses, rendered her incapable of moving or wanting anything at all but what was in store for her if she remained there on the couch. Then, as though he had heard her thoughts, he stepped proudly up to the side of the sofa and sat down beside her, reaching over with both hands to seize her lush breasts and squeeze them together like huge straining grapefruits. She could feel small pin pricks of a wildly rising sexual excitement racing through the tips of them as he rolled the light-brown, ever hardening nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. She tried to turn away, reflexively, not wanting to succumb, to make a last futile stand against the impending surrender of her wifely honor, but the pressure of his strong male grip was altogether too much for her in her present state of mind. Nothing mattered but her feelings and she had forgotten about being a proper young housewife, about her husband, John, about everything except the sheer joy of having this middle-aged man's nakedly lusting body sweating hotly against her tingling female flesh.
His hands dropped from her bulging white breasts to fondle the curved young nudity of her hips and trace the lovely full convexities of her sides. She felt the gouging hardness of his huge cock against her thigh as he leaned over her, his hands busy with their manipulations of her lower belly and his hot mouth now clamped over one breast, sucking and pulling at it, frequently pausing to nip and nibble with his teeth at the erect bud-like nipple.
"Now do you want it? Now do you want some stiff prick shoved in you?" he asked harshly, his voice sharp and rasping, glorying in making the innocent young wife of one of his employees listen to their crudeness.
"Oh ... I ... I'm afraid," the beautiful young woman responded innocently, unaware that her very helplessness served only to excite him more. He knew that she was raging inside, that her body was exploding with desire from his touch and the aphrodesiac she had trustingly swallowed. Despite her real fear, she could not tear her hot gaze from the indecent sight of his enormous cock. As she watched, it jerked slightly higher, causing her to shiver and blush reflexively as she despised herself for the surges of base desire that made her ache to have him sunk deep inside her eagerly waiting belly. In a remote corner of her mind, she kept repeating over and over to herself that she only wanted this burly man, a man who was probably old enough to be her father, because she had no choice but to appease him for fear of John losing his job. But even she knew in the foremost part of her consciousness that it was only an excuse to herself and that sheer sexual craving was the real force behind everything she was experiencing. Erotic tremors ran up her back at the sight of Charles' fullyerect prick standing out from his virile loins like a massive cobra whose head fanned out menacingly at the end of its pulsing length. God, it was huge she marvelled, unable to take her eyes from the tremendous fleshy length.
"Yes ... I want it," she finally murmured, training her smoky, desire-clouded eyes for a moment on his face as he feasted on her breasts, now flushed and swollen from the mauling of his mouth. The candor of her confession seemed to delight him and he wasted no time as he lifted himself from her, grasping her shoulders to move her into a better position, length-wise, on the soft tweed cushions. Using her huge, firmly white breasts for leverage, he pulled himself on top of her, his heavier weight along the length of her body squashing her down into the sofa. He came to rest directly between her helplessly, pulsating legs, forcing them wider apart with his own thick hairy thighs as he pulled her tightly against him and dropped one hand down between them to take the long hard throbbing cock in his fingers and guide it forward, using the thick rubbery tip to part the wet fleshy lips of her now voraciously demanding pussy. She flung her head to one side on the cushions, closing her eyes and groaning in mingled excitement and despair as she felt its first hot startling contact against the ragged pink edges of her moistly glistening cunt. She held her breath for what seemed an eternity, lying there in utter wantonness beneath him, not even daring to breathe or move.
"Ooooh, God, hurry!" she finally moaned, no longer caring what he thought of her for allowing this indecent attack on her young, desirable body.
But then he pushed forward, splitting her cunt lips wider, and she felt the first wave of pain from the cruel pressure of his unhumanly huge cock on the tender outer walls of her pussy.
CHAPTER FOUR
"Oh, noooooo, waaaiiittt-it's too big!" she cried as the thick tip slipped further in, stretching wide the tiny, hair-fringed entrance until Paula felt as if her abdomen were splitting wide-apart from the relentless outward force of his merciless probing.
"Stop, please, for God's sake, you're hurting me, you're hurting me!" She was almost screaming as she jerked open her eyes in agony and saw that he had not even heard her and was lost in the perverted delight of subjugating her helplessly-pinioned body. Suddenly his no longer handsome but now lustfully staring face twisted into a contorted expression of sheer animal desire as he looked down at the defenseless girl lying spread-eagled beneath him, the head of his large virile penis disappearing inch by inch into the soft, darkly curling hair of her pussy. He fell forward then, his weight smashing her full rounded breasts tightly back against her heaving lungs as he thrust his hips forward and rammed into her soft hot belly, the long, thick prick gliding into her cunt like a driving telephone pole and pushing the delicate moist flesh of her cuntal walls before it in helplessly rippling waves. There was no stopping him and he rammed on, deeper and deeper, until with a loud groan, his sperm inflated balls smacked loudly against the wide held cheeks of her naked buttocks.
"Aaaaaaagggggghhhhhh!" she screamed beneath him. She had never been so utterly filled in her life and his bone-hard, heavily-veined cock felt as though it had ripped her vaginal passage into a thousand tiny shreds as she slammed into her without thought of mercy or injury to her tender "insides. And now it lay sunk deep in her belly, filling it to the point of bursting. There was not a single tiny ridge of flesh on it that she could not feel as it pressed tightly against the soft flesh of her young pussy, encased in the moist hot sheath like a great spike planted heartlessly in its victim's stomach.
"How's that, Mrs. Blake?" he tormented, feeling her insides opening to receive him deep in her womb. She was whimpering and pleading desperately now as he thought of her snotty little husband and began to fuck ruthlessly into her, gritting his teeth with lust and luxuriating in his awareness that she was compulsively following him, beginning to hump in wild, spasmodic jerks beneath him. She groaned as if in anguish, shocking herself as he threw up her arms to wrap them tightly around his neck, pulling his solid well-defined chest into the velvety softness of her beautiful white breasts. He plunged his long cock in and out, filling and emptying her, sinking his long slippery prick back and forth between her vaginal lips and on up to her cervix until she felt as though it would tear up into her intestines. Her mouth moved against her will, opening and closing in response to each stroke of his cock, her shining titian hair flowing out on the cream tweed and fanning like silken threads, glinting subtle highlights of scarlett and black and rust as her head rose and fell with her movements. There was nothing that could stop her insane race for fulfillment and Charles West fucked like a savage to end it for both of them.
"Oh, yes, oh yessssss," she breathed without thought of shame, her entire being lost in the overpowering pleasure that had replaced the initial pain of his impalment of her. He slipped his hands down her sides and grasped the wildly pumping cheeks of her ass, jerking them up off the cushions to gain better access to the moist wet hole of her cunt. Then, pressing further forward, he slid his palms down to her knees and forced her legs up off the couch, wide, and pushed them brutally back over her shoulders until her toes pressed painfully into the tweed on either side of her head. Her tortured body was bent back double, jack-knifed, the stress on her painfully strained muscles almost causing her to beg for mercy. The whole of her wetly glistening groin was opened to him as he increased the power of his thrusts, driving in with long, hard lunges that seemed to receive their momentum from the very tips of his toes, cramming the very last inch of his cock into her with thundering lust, until fresh ecstatic moans fell from her lips, resounding through the office like the cry of a wounded beast. Her nostrils flared and her eyes rolled back, fixing hypnotically on the ceiling above the rhythmically groaning sofa.
Charles sweated above her, driving with longer smoother strokes into the hotly steaming passage up between her drawn back thighs as her long tapered nails clawed frantically at him, pulling him wildly into her. Deliberately teasing her, he pulled his cock almost all the way out of her hungrily clasping young vagina on the back stroke, then thrust forward again into her uplifted buttocks until he could feel the hard slap of his testicles against the unprotected crevice of her anus. Juicy wet smacking sounds filled the office with each brutal fuck-stroke he made into her, blending in tempo with the sounds of their hoarse breathing and the rhythmic lunching squeaks of their naked, sweat-soaked flesh on the cream-colored tweed.
Charles placed his hands on either side of her and lifted himself so that he could watch the young woman's exquisitely beautiful face. It was something he did not want to miss, the humiliating surrender of this smooth, soft-bodied young wife who had bounced so innocently into his private office just a short time ago. Well, she was being brought to life this afternoon and he could think of nothing nicer than having her hot little cunt at his disposal whenever he wanted her. He heard her sharp gasps of pleasure as he fucked heavily into her, skewering her, and she was loving it, fucking back shamelessly, urging him on with every lunge.
"Oh, God, fill me, fill me! Give me more!" she begged, gasping as if she were close to death.
"You love it, don't you? You love cock just like any other whore?" he demanded, ramming harder into her for emphasis. "You're going to be my little whore, aren't you?"
"Whore?" she faltered for a moment, not certain that she understood what her husband's boss was saying to her. Then she realized that it was true-she had allowed herself to lose control over all the things she knew were right and was now no better than a slut from the street. No, she would never be the same again.
"That's right, whore!" Charles spat down at her, relishing the confused mixture of pleasure and debasement he saw on her sweet face. "From now on, you'll fuck when I want you to-if you don't want your husband to know what kind of slut you really are!"
"Ooooh, yesss ... yessssss," she sobbed, out of her mind with the humiliating truth of her confession. She would have to submit to this horrible man's every desire, just to hide from her husband the terrible truth of her own weakness. And yet, whore that she was, she didn't care now. Nothing was real to her but the sweet hot pleasure that made her wave her hungrily gyrating young buttocks in uncontrolled frenzy up and down, from side to side, spiraling her starving cunt along the full length of his huge cock to gain every atom of sensation she possible could.
Charles West grinned smugly as he stepped up the viciousness of his strokes until his pelvis smacked like a wooden paddle against the ragged pink flanges of her delicious little pussy, his huge, lust-hardened cock fucking deep into the far hidden recesses of her heatedly writhing belly. He felt the cords of her neck and thighs stand out and tense as-she squirmed under him, working toward her climax, aching now with all her being to have the middle-aged man shoot his sperm into her soft heaving stomach. Just then, though, he decided to complete his conquest and introduce her to something totally unexpected. He slid his fingers down over the tight skin of her firm white ass and found the tiny elastic-rimmed anus cradled defenselessly below. It was soft and warm and he could feel its tiny crinkled lips working in time with the grinding of her buttocks as she pushed against his pounding loins. His finger shoved into it with a quick hard movement and he felt the tender rubbery flesh yielding before his attack.
"God, oooh," she gasped in painful protest at the unexpected intrusion, the plea tumbling from her lips in surprise. But he thrust harder, taking pleasure in hearing her helpless little sounds of subjugation.
"Oh, pleeeeeease, noooooo," she wailed, trying to twist away from his indecent outrage against her defenselessly cringing asshole.
He worked his finger around inside her, stretching the rubbery softness wider and wider as he ground into it. He slipped another finger in then and felt the tight resistance give way as it moved into the warm, fragile depths. The deep gutteral noises coming from her throat changed slowly into whimpers of pain for a moment, then were replaced by greater moans of pleasure as her slightly stretched anus gradually grew accustomed to the strange unnatural penetration. A smile of victory broke across his lust-contorted face as he felt her begin to slowly screw her buttocks back on his hand grinding her obscenely filled rectum down voraciously now on the buried fingers as he probed them methodically around in the warm rubbery depths. She was hopelessly impaled between his throbbing hard cock in her cunt and his fingers shoved cruelly up into her asshole. And now, whimpering and moaning beneath him, she increased her twisting and bucking movements under this double ravishment of her loins.
He slid his other hand slowly up from the smooth rounded cheeks of her writhing ass to where his hardened cock was pistoning wetly in and out of her pussy and teased cruelly the wet, hair-lined folds clasping tightly around his rampaging thickness. He could feel their fleshy softness pulling and giving with each long hard, jack-hammer thrust he made into her.
Suddenly he quickened his thrusts, hot and pulsating and deep, as she battered her body mercilessly beneath him. He knew that she was his now, completely, utterly, and Charles had no intention of showing the least bit of mercy or human compassion. He wanted to hear her plead for his hot cum, to beg to be filled with it, so that she would remember, long after this day was over, what power he had weilded over body and mind.
"Tell me, whore, tell me what you want." Charles growled as he deliberately slowed his stroking movements and teasingly ran his massive length only half-way into her, "Do you want me to fuck you and shoot my cum up into your snooty little cunt?"
"Oh yes, pleeeeeese!" the voluptuous brunette gasped, her pride completely destroyed as she lay pinned and naked under his male weight. The thought of begging a complete stranger to drive the huge cock into her and empty his sperm-laden balls into her belly was unthinkable, but she was beyond caring now and yearned only for her own climax, now so close.
"Beg me," he hissed contemptuously.
"I ... I can't," she said, hesitating to submit to this final last degradation. This, she knew, would be the final surrender and there would be no escaping him ever again.
It was the only thing she had left.
By cruel treachery, he had taken everything else, her pride in her fidelity to her husband, her self-respect, everything was gone now. She could not let him have the pleasure of hearing her beg as well. And yet, she knew she would. Insane passion pulsed in her bloodstream like a lust-lit neon sign, sending searing electrical signals through her nerves and building her excitement to a crest that would surely drive her insane if she did not find relief. At last, closing her eyes so that she would not have to face the sadistic delight in his eyes, she murmured:
"Oh, please, for God's sake, do it! Fuck me! Shoot your cum in my cunt!"
Grunting with approval of her submission, the older, heavily sweating man increased the tempo of his thrusts, grinding hard and deep into her so that his rigidly pistoning cock bored far up into the hidden recesses of her swaying young belly. Her naked breasts heaved and quivered up against the pressure of his sweating chest, the tiny hard nipples digging into him like the buttons of a coat. The fire of sheer animal desire flared madly in his lunging groin, and he too was now aware of nothing else in the world but the exciting fact that this beautiful young girl, the wife of his smart-assed magazine editor, was going insane beneath him, bucking her satiny ass and kicking with her heels against his broad shoulders as he fucked more and more savagely into her. Of all the hot bitches he had fucked in this very office, this one was among the best, if not the very best, at this time, he planned to make sure that it would be a special occasion. This tender little piece was going to be doing everything he wanted until the day her punk husband got wise to what was going on, if he ever did.
"Oh, oooooohhh, Gooooooddd! I'm cumming, I'm cummmmmmmmming nowwwwww!" Paula suddenly squealed in a high-pitched voice as she locked her slim ankles in a death grip high up behind his laboring, sweat-slickened torso. Her passion-imprisoned body heaved and she held on to him desperately, not moving but quivering and jerking around him in a pulsating rhythm that served to spew her orgasmic fluids out around his still hard driving cock. It trickled hotly down the wide-split crevice of her buttocks, soaking his heavily slapping balls and the two fingers buried all the way to the hilt up in her tiny puckered rectum.
He felt her jerk up toward him, the lips of her hotly seething little cunt working and sucking at his imbedded, marble-hard prick as though trying to milk him dry. Her breath was coming in short, panting gasps and he frantically withdrew to thrust deep in again, feeling his own hot boiling sperm sudddenly race up from his balls, jetting from the tip of his heavily throbbing cock and far on up into her soft quivering belly.
Paula's lust-crazed brain whirled in mindless sensuality as the burning, powerful squirts of her husband's boss' cum surged into her, filling her with warm sticky wetness and mingling with her own cum juices in a wet pool of forbidden joy that the astonished young brunette had never before imagined. Then, after a long moment of gasping sighs, Paula's trembling, perfectly-sculptured body was drained of everything, and her passion-spent limbs collapsed loosely onto the cushions as Charles' grip on her buttocks slowly relaxed. She shuddered for a second as he pulled his fingers from her tiny stretched anus with a soft wet hissing sound, then lay motionless, her body beaten and satiated as it had never been before. Tears welled in her baby-blue eyes as a sense of shame and humiliation rushed over her and she suddenly remembered where she was and just whose thick penis it was that was still soaking deep in her warmly pulsating vagina.
"Please, get off me, Mr. West," she said finally, attempting to regain a little of the dignity that had been torn from her in the debasing sexual experience she had just undergone. "I ... I have to go home to cook m-my h-husband's dinner."
The mention of John brought fresh tears trickling from her eyes and she wondered how she would ever explain her long absence to him. No matter what he might have said last night, she had no valid excuse for allowing a virtual stranger to ravage her body this way and she silently vowed that John must never, never know about what she had done.
"Oh, of course, my dear," the older man smiled condescendingly down at her misery. "Here, let me pull it out."
She closed her eyes to the sight of his lewd grin and quivered slightly as she felt him lift his hips, slipping his now-soft penis from her sperm-flooded vagina with a soft, wet sucking noice. A cool rush of fresh air flowed over her loins when he rolled from her body lowering his spent body to the floor beside the couch, and she heaved a long sigh of anguished relief.
Paula had heard no sound and had not even realized that someone could have quietly opened the office door and slipped inside, until the sound of a woman's deep-throated chuckle made her eyes flutter open once again. The nakedly lying girl's mouth fell open in horrified dismay as she saw a statuesque, golden-haired woman, clad in an expensive-looking emerald green knit suit, lounging gracefully on the far arm of the tweed sofa, her shapely crossed legs resting a few inches from where Paula's shoeless feet had fallen limply on the cushions only a few moments before.
"Oh, God ... oh no," Paula sobbed in incoherent horror at the idea of another woman, probably some business associate of her husband, John's, seeing her like this, limbs askew and her belly filled with the lewd wetness of Charles West's expended orgasm. Her well-used body lurched to a sitting position and she pulled her long legs tightly under her, crossing her arms over the front of her body in a vain attempt to hide her nakedness.
"Well, well, if it isn't Ursula!" Charles boomed heartily as he too noticed the other woman in the office for the first time. "As you can see, my natural impulses got the best of me. If you hadn't dressed, baby, you could have joined the party!"
"So I see," the gorgeous golden-haired woman answered calmly as she wryly surveyed Paula's still-cowering figure. "You said this would be interesting ... and I certainly hope it is, Charles."
Paula's baby blue eyes widened in shock as she listened to the conversation going on around her and she suddenly decided that this lovely woman must be Charles West's wife. Despite the fear that had filled her only a second ago, she now felt only compassion for the mature beauty who sat at her feet and she sympathetically remembered all the hurt and horror she herself had felt at the idea of her own husband making love to the gorgeous models he used in the magazine.
"Oh, Mrs. West, forgive me," the brunette sobbed out, trying desperately to assuage what she imagined was the terrible pain the older woman must be experiencing. "I don't know what happened ... It was all my fault ... I swear I'll never come into this place again ... I'll never be going near your husband...."
"Oh, for God's sake, calm down. Charles is entitled to a little strange pussy once in a while."
"Please don't blame him ... I don't know how to convince you...." Paula went on tearfully, then faltered as the blonde's coolly uttered words penetrated her tortured consciousness. The humiliated young wife had been wringing her hands and staring down at the carpet all the time she was talking, but now as she looked up beseechingly, Paula saw that the other woman did not appear upset in the least. To the contrary, the blonde-haired woman's expression was one of slightly bored amusement.
Confused, Paula turned to Charles for some sort of explanation but was met with the sight of his bulky naked body doubled over in silent laughter. She watched in astonishment as he righted himself with effort after retrieving one of his expensive Havana cigars from the pocket of his fallen jacket.
"I-I don't understand ... I should leave," Paula murmured to no one in particular and she was about to swing her legs off the couch when Charles reached out and placed his hand firmly on one of her smooth creamy knees.
"Not so fast, baby," Charles grinned sardonically around the fat cigar in his mouth. "Don't you want to meet your new boss, or have you changed your mind about your job ... and your hubby's?"
"My new boss?" Paula repeated blankly as she tried to make her exhausted mind operate efficiently once again. "But I thought ... isn't she your...."
"No, darling, I'm the editor of the photo department," Ursula interrupted smoothly, then chuckled at the look of startlement and confusion that again crossed Paula's sweet young face. "My name is Ursula Castleton and I am the closest thing to a wife Charles has," she added slightly more threateningly and then looked at Charles. "Is she going to be my assistant?"
"You got it, baby. You keep telling me that you can't handle all of my business associates, so now you've got someone to help you share the load," Charles chortled to his mistress, his penetrating gaze roaming insultingly over Paula's still unclothed body.
"You can have her do shows for the guys, just the way she performed for you this afternoon." Once again his eyes lingered approvingly on the ripe young contours of Paula's lush form. "You have to admit, Ursula, that she did very well ... very well indeed."
"All right, Charles!" Ursula snapped bitterly.
Paula's gaze darted up to catch a gleam of unmistakable jealousy in the older woman's expression. The youthful wife felt a sudden pang of apprehension about her future but then quickly forgot it as the lovely blonde turned to face her with an inquiring smile. "Do you think you can handle it, dear? Even Charles, the stud here, can't come up to some of the monsters we'll have to ... photograph. And sometimes they get a little strange when they're drunk ... I just thought I should warn you."
"You don't mean that I have to ... to make love with strange men?" Paula gasped in disbelief as she stared from one to the other of her two tormentors. As before, she was threatened by the cruel sarcasm that she thought she had heard in Ursula Castleton's voice and she wondered if this was not some cruel trick they had contrived to humiliate her even more. But she could see from the sadistic, gloating expression on Charles' face that it was all true. She had been led into a vicious trap, like an unsuspecting baby lamb, and there was no way out for her. She knew it now, just as she had known it when Charles had called her a whore earlier, when his vile erect cock had been spearing in and out of her obscenely eager vagina. She had made herself into no more than a common slut when she had given in to the seemingly irresistable temptation this afternoon, and now she would have to do whatever these two horrible blackmailers wanted-if she wanted to keep her marriage intact. There was no other way, except to let John lose his job, and besides, she was certain that Charles would happily blackmail her with what had happened today in his office. She knew that her husband would never forgive her if he should ever find out the awful truth.
"I-I guess I have no choice," she said slowly, trying to blink back the tears of pitiful frustration and shame that were filling her eyes.
The pretty little brunette stared hard into both Ursula Castleton's and Charles West's faces, trying to find some pity or compassion in their expressions, but she found only two pairs of coldly amused eyes. Their demon-like indifference to her distress filled her with deep resentment over the injustice of her situation but she could do absolutely nothing but gaze contemptuously back at them. "May I go home now? I mean, are you finished with me yet," she finally asked icily.
"Not for a long time, baby," Charles quipped, leering hungrily again at her naked body as she rose upright from the couch, stepping carefully over his unclad body, still seated on the floor, to reach the crumpled heap of her clothing lying on the plush carpet a few feet away.
Ursula scowled irritably and then turned toward the miserable young woman, saying, "Pouting won't get you anywhere, honey, and I don't have time to play games with you. Take the job or forget it. And remember, nobody's forcing you to work for the West Publishing Company," she added with a sly, ironic grin of insolencce and spite.
"That's right," Charles smirked evilly. "Now, I think you ought to start work tomorrow."
"Yes, if you want me to," Paula nodded humbly as with downcast eyes she hurriedly put on her clothes, tears of stinging shame and resignation spilling at last in tiny wet trails down her flushed cheeks. "I'll do anything to save John's job and ... and our marriage."
"Don't worry, sweetie, you'll have to," Charrles rasped ominously as he also rose to his feet. "But right now, I'll give you your first paycheck, in advance, just to make your new job look a little more attractive to you. As I recall, money was your problem, wasn't it?"
Without waiting for her reply, the hulking publisher strode calmly back to his desk on the other side of the room, his long thick penis dangling like a vulgar length of limp hose under his softening belly as he bent slightly over to open a desk drawer and rummage around inside. Paula saw a brief flash of green as he nonchalantly stuffed several bills into a white legal-size envelope and sealed it with a swipe of his fleshy red tongue.
"There you are, kid," he said fliply, tossing the envelope toward her across the broad expanse of shiny wooden desk. "And if you want more, you'd better come up with a convincing story about what you're really doing on your new job. I'd hate to be forced to tell my version of everything to young John if he came storming in here, yelling rape."
"Oh yes, I can just see it now-John Blake's cute black-haired little wife trying to explain to him what she does during her afternoons," Ursula exclaimed gaily, her interest renewing in the younger woman. With a wry teasing smile, she added, "You can tell him for me that if he ever wants to get into the act, I'll be right up here in my office waiting for him. He looks a little green, but hell, he might be taught to be a great lay."
Her last mocking words were lost on Paula, who had grabbed up her purse and the envelope from Charles' desk and hurried out of the room, a muffled sob her only farewell. After the door slammed shut behind her, the silence in the office was broken only by the sound of Charles West's self-satisfied laughter.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Dammit, Charles, be quiet," his blonde-haired mistress hissed suddenly.
"Why, baby, what's the matter," the naked greying publisher inquired facetiously, a look of injured innocence clouding his face. "You said that I deserved a little "strange pussy" now and then, and anyway, I told you I'd explain everything."
"Well, I hope you have a good reason for picking on the kid like that," she said with disgust in her voice. "Now I'll bet you're too worn out to take me to dinner as you promised."
"Aw, hell, since when did a good fuck ever wear out Charles West?" he cackled in amusement, shrugging his shoulders as he added: "So what's your problem, baby?"
"Nothing, Charles, nothing at all, except that I got a good look at you two going at it before you noticed me in here. And, if you want to know the truth, I can't remember the last time you fucked the way you were laying into that innocent little bitch!" Ursula spat out furiously.
"Why, honey, don't tell me you're jealous of that naive little girl," he crooned mockingly but smiling affectionately at the fuming blonde. "Don't play the dumb cocktail waitress with me, because I know you better than that-and anyway, you're hotter in bed than ten of those silly little broads."
"Well, maybe I was jealous," she muttered in a low voice, somewhat mollified by his words, "but now that you've had your fun with her, we'll hand her over to your wolfish business pals. We wouldn't want to risk having her husband catch her with you, the boss, would we?"
"Okay, okay," Charles soothed her, circling around the desk to enfold her in his brawny arms. "When did I ever do anything you didn't like?"
"Ever since the night I met you, you horny old bastard," Ursula shot back, but smiling now as she allowed herself to be crushed tightly to his naked hairy chest. Charles knew that the crisis was over, for the moment anyway, and released her so that he could reach down and retrieve his clothing from the floor. The middle-aged publisher's mind was already working out plans for the next time he got that sweet-assed little brunette in his hands. "Ahhh," he sighed satisfactorily to himself. "He would teach that young magazine editor of his to forget his picture. He would teach him well!"
* * *
"Where have you been, honey? I've been home for nearly an hour and dinner isn't even started yet!" the youthful masculine voice came from inside the living room as Paula stealthily pushed open the door of their attractive suburban home. She had made infuriatingly slow connections on the buses out of Chicago and had hoped to be able to sneak into the house and make some plausible excuse to John about gossiping away the afternoon with a neighbor. But now, as she heard the sound of her husband's footsteps coming toward her from their living room with its big picture window facing the street, she knew that he must have seen her hurrying up the sidewalk from the bus stop at the comer.
"I'm sorry, darling. I went into the city today," she called back, meekly lowering her voice as John's slender, solid form appeared in the doorway from the living room. "I got back as soon as I could."
"Dammit, have you been out shopping again, Paula?" he interrupted, his blue eyes glowering beneath his thick shock of unruly black hair. "I don't see any packages, so I assume you've bought one of the larger so-called necessities of life. What is it this time, a baby grand piano or a mink coat that they're going to deliver tomorrow?"
"Oh, John, don't be silly," the sweet-faced black-haired girl giggled nervously as she suddenly felt an unreasoning fear that her husband might somehow guess what had really happened to her in his boss' office that afternoon. Her slender fingers gripped more tightly the handle of her leather purse which contained the envelope that Charles West had given her. Gazing timidly up at John through her long, raven lashes, she tremulously explained, "I ... I went in for something else, darling ... to see someone."
"Sure, sure, you always go in for something else," he said, shaking his handsome head skeptically. "But someone always manages to sell you something while you're there. Whatever it is, you're going back into town tomorrow and get your money back. I don't work forty hours a week in the West Building so that we'll starve when we're old, Paula. It's about time you started remembering that."
Paula raised her eyes to silently protest his automatic assumption of her extravagance, but it was too late. Having completed his tirade, her husband turned on his heel and strode back into the living room, and a moment later, the house was filled with the sound of the nightly television news broadcast.
For the briefest second, the shapely young wife was sorely tempted to march right into the middle of John's precious news program and tell him how very wrong he was about what she had done that afternoon, tell him about her new job and the envelope that was in her purse. But guilt and fear held her back. She was afraid that once she began to tell the sotry of her meeting with Charles West, she might accidently let slip some incriminating detail, alerting him the fact that his seemingly trust-worthy young wife had made a grave mistake that day, had lost the innocence and virtue that he had always so delighted in. Just the thought of how she had behaved in Mr. West's office, willingly allowing that filthy old man to take the most indecent liberties with her body, made tears of shame spring into Paula's big brown eyes and she rushed back into the kitchen to busy herself with preeparjng John's dinner before she broke down altogether.
For a moment or two, the pretty young brunette bustled around her bright, modern kitchen, pulling cans from the cupboards and pork chops from the refrigerator, trying to pretend that this was a day just like any other, but her vision kept returning to the brown leather purse that lay where she had placed it on the kitchen table. As she opened the canned beans and poured them into a saucepan, her thoughts kept going back to that moment on the bus when she had remembered the white envelope that had still been clenched tightly in her hand. Wanting to throw the unwelcome reminder of her horrible afternoon out the window of the moving bus and yet wondering how highly Charles West had valued the afternoon's experience, Paula had impulsively torn open the envelope. One glance at the contents had left her white with shock and she had anxiously stuffed it deep into her handbag, not wanting the other passengers on the roaring vehicle to see the tangible proof of her guilt.
But now, in the kitchen of the home she had shared for eight months with her husband, still smarting from the tongue-lashing John had so unfairly bestowed upon her, Paula's thoughts returned to the envelope with a slightly different attitude. There was now money in her purse, a great deal of money, and after all, what had John been so upset about? Why else had she gone to Charles West's office in the first place, if not to find an opportunity to help with her and John's financial situation, the beautiful young woman reasoned carefully as she slowly peeled potatoes over the sink. It was vile and disgusting to make love to other men behind her husband's back, she knew, but if it could save their suddenly shaky marriage, was it too great a price to pay?
Suddenly, with an expression of unusual determination on her face, Paula set down the potato and peeler and turned around to face the kitchen table, hurriedly wiping her hands on a dishtowel she had grabbed from a rack near the sink. Only her wide eyes showed her anxiety as she reached out and fumbled with the clasp of the leather bag, finally opening it and pulling the crumbled white envelope out of the very bottom.
At first, she hesitated to look into it staring instead beseechingly at the door to the living room, as though mutely pleading for a compassionate reprieve from the future that fate seemed to have designed for her. But nothing issued from beyond that door but the sound of the evening news and at last with a sigh, she withdrew the contents of the envelope. Closing her mind to everything else, to the brassy sounds of the television and the persistant, slightly painful tingle between her thighs that served as a nagging reminder of her betrayal of her marriage vows, Paula slowly and deliberately counted the money, twice.
It was six hundred dollars, more than her husband made in two weeks! It was twenty times the amount she had spent at the bargain sale yesterday and if he never found out how she had gotten it, it was more than enough to make John view her in a new light, to start talking to her like an equal again and maybe even to care enough about her to take time and much-needed care with their sex life, talking about new things and making love considerately like he used to.
Even in her intense concentration, Paula was suddenly aware of the click of the television off-switch and then the slow footsteps that suddenly filled the silence of the house. In her panicky fear of discovery, the frightened girl could think of nothing to do but hide the sex hundred dollars behind her back as she heard John coming toward the kitchen.
"Honey, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have jumped on you like that," his apologetic voice came into the back of the house even before his sheepishly smiling face appeared in the kitchen doorway. "The printer forgot to put Mr. West's picture in the magazine and I'm just worried about the explosion that's coming tomorrow when he notices it. What did you do downtown today, anyway?"
"Well ... Well, I...." Paula faltered, trying desperately to conjure up some reason for their newfound wealth, "I saw ... a lawyer," she suddenly decided aloud, a smile of profound relief lighting up her naturally sunny facial features as she seized upon the bold lie. "d-did I ever tell you about my great-aunt in California? She ... she died."
"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," John blurted out consolingly, rushing up to wrap his arms around her slim shoulders as he saw her soft lower Hip begin to quiver and her eyes grow shiny with real tears.
"No, you don't understand," the young brunette wife said, no longer able to hold back her tears of helpless misery. Tearing free of his embrace, she tried frantically to smile as she brought her hands from where they had been hidden behind her back and pressed the hundred-dollar bills into his hand. "Here ... the lawyer gave me this ... She left me the money. Now we don't have to worry about ... about money any more," she explained through her uncontrollable sobbing.
Her good-looking husband stared at her, first in astonishment then with concern as he thought he began to understand the true reason for her distress. Tossing the money down on the kitchen table, he laced his wiry arm around Paula's tiny waist and drew her closer to him, until her head nestled warmly into his shoulder. Softly stroking her face with his other hand, he murmured gently.
"I'm so sorry, honey. I didn't think you were taking our money problems to heart so much or I never would have been so hard on you. It's not that important. It really isn't."
"I know, darling, I know," Paula gasped out through her tears as she leaned wearily against the comforting warmth of her husband's tall form. In her heart, however, the voluptuous young wife was thinking something that was entirely different, for John was holding her tenderly, speaking more gently with her than he had done in weeks, making a real effort to understand how she felt. He seemed suddenly different now, radically changed from the way he had acted toward her for such a long time, changed from the way he had acted when she had walked in the door only fifteen minutes ago. And to her mind, there was only one thing that could account for the sudden shift in his whole attitude toward her.
Paula's blue-eyed gaze drifted to the tiny pile of green one hundred dollar bills that lay on the kitchen table and she realized that, yes, she definitely would be returning to the West Building, tomorrow, as she had promised.
* * *
Ursula Castleton sighed in disgust and slowly settled her excitingly naked body into an easy chair close to the huge king-sized bed, reaching up beside her then to pull a small, secret switch recessed in the bedroom wall. It was located next to the huge mirror facing the colossal double bed that filled most of the room.
Earlier that morning Charles had instructed his cooperative blonde mistress to operate the trick two-way mirror when things "got interesting," so that he could watch through from the other side of the glass next to his office desk. A visiting executive from an advertising firm was breaking in Charles's pretty new photography department assistant.
The statuesque golden-haired Ursula leaned even further back now in the over-stuffed chair so that, on the other side of the mirror, Charles would not be able to see the sullen displeased expression on her face as he gleefully observed the lewd sight of the naked Paula Blake and the bald, over-weight businessman thrashing together lustfully on the well-placed bed. After another ample dose of the company president's potent absinthe, the young willowy-limbed brunette seemed to be fucking herself half crazy with Charles' flabby business associate. Ursula scowled at the transparent delight on the fat man's face, a man whom she had always entertained before today. It made her sick, she thought infuriatedly to herself, that this stupid little brunette cunt, a girl almost young enough to be her own daughter, could have simply strolled into Charles' office one day and the next be sharing with her the private office and penthouse apartment after letting the boss fuck her only one time. The gorgeous blonde angrily imagined her wealthy fifty-five year-old lover sitting at his immense desk in the office on the other side of the wall. She could just see him as he gazed lost in concentration through the two-way mirror at Paula Blake's flawless, exquisitely symmetrical body, legs spread wide, writhing passionately under the paunchy, short advertising executive. His heavy, log-sized cock was plainly visible driving deep into her soft hair-lined folds of her ravenously working young cunt. Ursula knew instinctively that Charles was probably jerking-off, just as he said he often did as he watched her involved in some obscene act with one of his visiting business friends.
She turned her head defiantly away from the coarse spectacle-one that she had been told by Charles to "supervise" and battled with herself to control the jealousy and hurt that she felt damning up within her. Even though Charles had fully assured her yesterday that her position with him was secure, she could not control the unsettling, nagging doubts about the stability of their relationship. Certain questions she could not answer were running rampant through her mind. Just what did this girl have that made her so incredibly attractive to him, she wondered anxiously. Or was it as he had said only last night, that he merely wanted to teach Paula's "insolent punk husband" a lesson? Ursula wanted to blindly believe that the answer to the last question was "yes" ... After all, she convinced herself, Charles had said that the sole reason he had not called John in for an "ass-chewing" right away-right after he had noticed the editor's omission of the photograph in the company magazine-was because he wanted to dream up a special revenge against the irresponsible younger man, one that would "hit the kid where he lives."
"Wow, that sure is one fine piece of ass! I couldn't have gone any longer, not for all the money in the world, but the little lady doesn't look like she's complaining," a weakened male voice, wheezing with exhausted satiation, came to Ursula's ears. Looking up with a little jump of startlement, the sinuous golden-haired woman saw that the tubby little business man was addressing her as he pulled on his clothes, pausing momentarily to wipe the beads of sweat glimmering on his forehead despite the air-conditioned coolness of the "guest" bedroom.
Beyond him, Ursula could see Paula's supple, perfect body sprawled obscenely across the bed, legs still spread obscenely wide and a look of utter peace and contentment lighting her angelic facial features. The thin, black fringed furrow of her well-fucked young vagina was still spread and glistening from the fat man's ejaculation into and on it.
"Well, I'm certainly glad you enjoyed yourself," Ursula commented stiffly, smiling with wane graciousness. "Paula seems absolutely ecstatic about you, but then, of course, I always wait very anxiously for your visits here, too."
"Yeah, I have to admit it, I did a great job with that little girl," he puffed absently, as though he had not heard a word Ursula had said. "Well, I guess you could say I was rarin' to go. Charles certainly does know how to pick them, by God!"
"Why, Mr. Hennerick, aren't you going back into his office?" Ursula asked quickly, alarmed that something actually had gone wrong on the bed. God, Charles would never forgive her if she had just sat there while the Blake girl alienated one of their best customers with her girlish innocence about the facts of really satisfying sex.
"Hell no," the customer chuckled cheerily, "I'm just worn out, that's all. Jesus, I haven't had such a fresh young fuck in years!"
"How ... nice," Ursula barely managed to say through her suddenly jealously contracting throat. Though she was dangerously far into her late thirties, the well-experienced blonde had never had the least fear of increasing age taking its toll on her well preserved looks. Not until now, that is. Rousing her curvaceous, full-breasted body from the chair, she led the now completely dressed man to the back exit of the bedroom, forcing herself to feign politeness as she explained with a low, sultry smile, "I'd walk you out to the hallway, Mr. Hennerick, but as you may have noticed, I'm not properly dressed to be seen by the secretaries."
"No, you're not," the barrel-bellied little man replied wiith a lewd liittle grin as he buttoned the front of his navy flannel suit jacket and ran his eyes up and down her nakedly curved form. Then, as if realizing for the first time that the more mature woman might have felt slighted by what he had said, he patted her buttocks with a patronizing gesture of assurance. "Don't worry, baby, I'll give it to you next time around."
* * *
It was two days later and Ursula still felt herself fighting the impulse to scream out loud, to shout out her jealous anger, or worse, to physically attack the sweet-faced brunette lying again in a half-doze of bliss on her, Ursula Castleton's own work bed. But instead, she began slowly to dress for the meeting she had arranged with the little bitch's husband. Her naturally beautiful face was darkened by a bitter smile as she buttoned up the front of her dress and carefully adjusted her well-coiffed hair and costly make-up. Actually, there was no need for her to be alluring and sexy for this pre-arranged meeting with John Blake, she mused sarcastically; hell, especially not since she had told him that Charles West, the company president, himself, wanted his employee in for a private conference in his office. That good-looking college kid type would come without a moment's delay, just like any other sane employee at West Publications! What Blake would be a little surprised to find out, though, is that Charles would not be there or even know about her meeting with his photo editor. If everything went according to the plan that she was now forming in her jealously scheming mind, she would have her own taste of grand revenge before the day was over.
She chuckled to herself with sardonic satisfactiion as she left her office and glided toward the elevator, thinking that there would be no one in Charles' office but nice, unsuspecting John Blake and the two-way mirror ... except of course, for Ursula herself. And she wanted to be damned sure that poor, hurt John would come running to her for comfort when he recognized the actual identity of the brunette girl being fucked half senseless by three men on the other side of the mirror. Hell, she mused as her grin widened, a girl had to protect her ego and her number one job against threats somehow.
* * *
It was Friday afternoon, three days since Paula Blake had worked her first day in the "Photography" department for West Publications and it was also the day that Charles always left work early to fly to his week-end home in Marquette to be there in time for dinner.
"Mr. West said that he'll be with you pretty soon. He'd like you to just wait here for him," Ursula glibly lied.
"Uh? ... Oh yeah, thanks, Ursula," John said with a preoccupied air. He was deeply in lost in thought when the blonde-tressed beauty slipped out of the room, back into her own office again, the door closing almost soundlessly shut behind her. This whole thing seemed very unusual and had him more than a little worried. The mysterious way that Ursula Castleton, Charles' very own personal assistant, had come down to see John yesterday with only the cryptic message that he should keep his Friday afternoon free had left him guessing for all this time about what was going on.
John had no doubts that Charles wanted to see him about the omission of the big man's picture in American Industry but why would he send Ursula down again today just to escort him up to the top floor, leading him into the boss' office through her own office, instead of through the reception room as usual? The young husband became even more apprehensive as he suddenly remembered that, curiously enough, the publisher never saw anyone on Friday afternoons. It just did not make sense, he decided worriedly, and with the anxiousness of a man awaiting the Last Judgement, he withdrew a budget report from his coat pocket and began to figure out what costs he would offer to cut back on when Charles West informed him that he was cutting down the magazine budget.
* * *
Paula lay naked on the enormous bed in the next room, draining off the last of the third glass of the lemon-flavored liquid that Ursula had earlier urged her to drink, little realizing what was lying in store for her. After what had happened three days ago with that disgusting little man from the advertising agency, or whatever it was, the pretty dark-haired wife had been almost certain that Charles' "special drink" contained come aphrodesiacal qualities, or she would never have had that overwhelming orgasm that she had experienced with the fat, loathsome businessman. As horrified and ashamed as she had felt, it had taken all of her willpower not to actually thank Charles when he had awakened her several hours later and announced that she would be free until the next week. It had been such a relief to simply stay at home, delighting in the honest housework that had irritated her so much a few days ... a relief, that is, until Ursula had telephoned early this morning with the message that Paula would have to come to the office this afternoon.
The beautiful young housewife had felt full of dread and self-pity when Ursula had called right after John had left for work. Her sense of misgiving had increased even more when she had arrived at the receptionist's desk a while ago and been hustled off immediately by Ursula to the bedroom, without even seeing Charles as she had before. Somehow, the fact that she had not seen the middle-aged publisher made Paula fear that Ursula might be acting on her own authority, perhaps in retaliation for the jealousy that the older woman had obviously felt when she discovered Charles with her on the couch in the executive's office. Still, she did not dare defy Ursula's stern commands to undress herself and lie down in the bed, and she had been grateful when she had accepted the several drinks offered to her, hoping that they would somehow calm her nerves.
"Christ, it's about time we got a look at this little brunette you've been telling us about, Ursula baby," a deep masculine voice sounded impatiently as the bedroom door clicked open. "If she's just half as good as this wild pad of yours, it'll be better than anything I've had since you left the Club."
"Hell, yeah! The place just ain't the same without you, baby," two other male voices chimed in, causing Paula's head to jerk sharply around on the pillow to see the men who were entering the lavish bedroom. Her face gaped open in astonishment as she saw Ursula leading in three completely naked men. By the looks of their bristly unshaven faces, the frightened young girl knew immediately that these three were not business friends of Charles and she trembled as she noticed their devouring eyes flicker in open appreciation of the delicious feast of her naked body spread out on the bed before them.
"Paula, my dear, today I've brought some of my friends to be entertained," Ursula's saccharin-sweet voice murmured as, still completely dressed herself, she let the unsavory-looking trio up to the over-sized bed. "I want you to be as nice to them as you were to Charles' friend the other day. Do anything they want, do you understand?"
"But ... but I work for Charles," Paula protested feebly, her big beautiful eyes wide with real fear now.
"That's only when he's here to protect you, kid," Ursulaa rejoined smoothly. "And by the way, this room had been completely sound-proofed, so feel free to struggle and make as much noise as you like. You certainly won't bother anybody."
The stunning older woman cast one last cruelly triumphant smile toward the cowering naked girl and then moved gracefully out of the room, closing and noisily locking the door behind her.
CHAPTER SIX
Paula's terrified eyes flew back immediately to the little group next to the bed and as she saw a skinny, hawk-faced man with grey hair separate himself from his companions, moving determinedly toward her, the panicky realization of her dangerous position made her throw one long tapered leg over the edge of the mattress in an effort to escape. She was just on the verge of leaping from the bed when the bony, approximately fifty year-old man reached out with one oily hand and brushed his fingertips lightly over the cringing tips of her full white breasts. She recoiled back against the pillows as an indescribably electrifying shock raced through her voluptuous body, lighting tiny fires on her aphrodesiac heated nerve-ends until she relaxed involuntarily back on the mammoth mattress, helpless against the little pin-pricks of pleasurable sensation tingled over her creamy naked flesh.
"Wow, I don't know what Ursula used to get this chick all heated up like this, but I sure could use some for my old lady," a stumpy-bodied but powerfully-built black-haired man chuckled coarsely from the side of the bed.
"Shit, who cares?" the pimply-faced, blonde boy beside him barked impatiently. "If Roge don't fuck her right away, I sure as hell will!"
"Just hold up there, stud," the older wiry man named Roge said threateningly as the ruddy-faced adolescent moved forward as if to bulldoze past him to get to Paula. "Age before beauty, you know, and besides, you're only here because Ursula didn't believe the stories she's heard about your big cock. Now, the senior Club people get first dibs, you hear?"
Paula barely heard the boy's mumbling, abashed reply. She was too involved in trying to comprehend the insane sensations that were now shooting out of control through her tortured nerves. God, not even that first day with Charles had started out quite like this-but then suddenly she realized what was happening to her. The drink! She had drunk too much, she knew now, but there was nothing she could do about it as the skinny man again leaned licentiously over the side of the bed and began running his hands over the smooth white curves of her defenseless body. Every inch of her smooth young skin seemed to be throbbing with mind-boggling surges of fiery need and her buttocks began to grind desperately down into the sheets to quench a searing passion that was licking hungrily at her trembling loins.
"Ooooohh," she breathed tremulously as Roge's dirty uncut fingernails teasingly travelled up the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, digging down between them to boldly touch the rising pink bud of her pulsating clitoris. The sweet burning itch of lust rippled out from the tiny nub, snaking over her now-quivering belly and out into the pinkly throbbing tips of her nipples at the ends of her breasts. An itch that overcame the humiliation and fear of having two strange hands roaming over her nakedness.
The skinny man's tongue licked nervously over his twitching mouth as small beads of sweat began to form on his upper hp. Most women had always shunned him because of his bony body and frightening face, but this one was acting like she had not had a man in years. She was a beautiful, enticing young brunette and he couldn't understand why she was already going so wild under the stroking of his fingers, but he hardly cared. If he stopped to figure it out, she might change her mind....
Clambering up onto the mattress, he pushed her gorgeous unresisting thighs wide apart with the palms of his hands and lunged eagerly between their lush white fullness. Paula was horrified at the joy she felt as the bed squeaked faintly under the added weight of his body, but she could no longer controol the workings of her body and mind. The young brunette's delicious cunt felt like a great burning emptiness that had to be filled before she went insane. Without further thought, she reached down between her body and the hovering stranger's to guide the thick blood-filled head of his thick, stump-like prick up to the lips of her moistly waiting cunt. Her columnar legs kicked out uncontrollably and her heels curled around his broad hips fiercely as she jerked her starving torso upward, wildly pulling him down to her writhing body. The flaring bulbous cock-head lodged securely between the moist warm lips of her pussy and then a deep groan of wild frustration tumbled from her lips as the lewdly grinning man levered up on his arms with teasing slowness and painstakingly adjusted the angle of his body. Just when it seemed as though she would go mad from the momentary wait, he crashed his loins down between her open thighs, ramming the hard fleshy cock as deep as it would go into her greedily clasping young vagina. His hairy balls slapped heavily against her upthrust buttocks and his sinewy sweating stomach thudded hard against the yielding softness of her nakedly quivering belly.
Still not satisfied, Paula strained up against him, wrapping her slender fingers around his pillowy ass-cheeks in an effort to pull him deeper into her insanely demanding cuntal passage.
"Deeper! For God's sake, fuck deeper!" she wailed in desperation.
Above her, the thin, grey-haired man puffed and grunted as he grasped her soft rounded hips and drove his rock-hard prick in to the hilt, but it was not enough to fill her almost inhuman need. She groaned in disappointment, splaying her legs further out over the sides of the bed to give him greater access but all her efforts were futile.
It was too short.
As if to compensate for his shortcomings, the panting man rammed his tongue deep into her wide open mouth, drooling his saliva down into her throat. She sucked at it in a wild frenzy, her body caught up in an insane whirlpool of sheer raw lust that she never would have believed existed before this afternoon. She strained her muscles to meet every jerking thrust of his pistoning cock, gasping with pain each time his pelvis smacked against her tender upturned loins with a brutal thud that resounded loudly throughout the room.
Then suddenly her breathing quickened as he started to bring her to a climax with the savage pounding of his body alone. She humped wantonly beneath him, fighting insanely for the peak that was so close, when his short plunging prick abruptly stiffened and began to shoot its white hot cum juice far into the depths of her tortured womb.
Paula cried out in miserable frustration, then furiously pushed away the now-useless body of the thin, heavily panting man, gasping in anguish as she felt the exhausted deflating penis slip maddeningly from her still-churning thighs. Her own orgasm had been but a moment away and now the fires still raged on within her drugged and frustrated body. She despaired of ever finding relief and threw her arms over her eyes as tears of disappointment streamed down her passion-flaming cheeks. Then, through the haze of her misery, she saw the blonde youth grinning cockily down at her from the near side of the bed.
"Oh, please ... please ... I need a bigger cock...." she murmured brokenly, her passion driving her beyond the point of caring how she must look or sound. "Oh, God, get on top of me and fuck my cunt, please!"
"Shit, yeah, fuck the bitch, Bob," the aquiline man called Roge said in angry invitation as he climbed exhaustedly from Paula's inflamed body and off the bed, his pride injured by the wanton young wife's expressed dissatisfaction with the size of his prick. Then to Keith, he added, "Don't worry pal, we'll find some other place for you to put your cock so you won't have to wait all afternoon."
"Hell yes," the teenager identified as Bob assured the others as he moved hastily onto the big bed, "as soon as I ram this cock of mine into her, she won't know the difference anyhow."
Through the stupifying haze of her lust, the black-haired young woman barely heard him speak but was grinding her crotch around frantically below as he moved his hot and ready body up over her young lithe frame. Her fiery gaping pussy searched hungrily upward for the shaft of rigid flesh that would fill its aching need and Paula gasped in relief as she felt the pressure of the bulging prick-head against the hotly pulsating opening.
The squirming brunette was dimly aware of the others as they whispered lewd, obscenely mocking comments frm above her, but she was numbed now to any further humiliation. Nothing was important to her but the blazing tide of lust that was threatening to carry her past the edge of human endurance. Every single muscle in her sexually tensed body was arching toward that thrilling probe between her trembling thighs until suddenly the blotchy-faced boy flicked his hips forward. She felt a sudden sharp stab of pain as something monstrous, something unnaturally huge, pressed past the throbbing wet lips of her cunt, stretching the soft resisting flesh almost to the breaking point. Instinctively, her hand darted down behind her upturned buttocks and she gasped in amazement as her fingers encountered the giant pole of flesh that was boring so painfully into the narrow little passageway between her legs. My God, it was huge! The long, thick organ was even bigger than Charles West's giant penis, and she jerked her hand away from the mammoth fleshy staff in a reflexive action of horror. She could never take that thing inside her without its tearing her intestines to shreds! Suddenly the terrified young housewife began to squirm frantically, trying to tear herself away from the sadistically snickering youth and his inhumanly large sex organ.
"Help me hold her down you guys," the blonde headed young man suddenly barked laughingly to the two men beside the bed. "She just got an idea of what's coming and she ain't sure she wants it yet."
"Oh God, it's too big! You'll kill me," she whimpered in fright as she felt their hands reaching from either side of the mattress, taking firm hold of her slender ankles, then brutally levering her feet up off the bed and back over her head until the muscles of her body felt as though they would snap from the cruel strain. Her toes were touching the pillow on either side of her head presenting the whole flat plane of her defenseless hair-covered pussy up to the wildly grinning blonde to plunder at will.
"Aaaaaaaagggh!" Paula cried out as the youthful boy lunged forward, thrusting his hips harder than before, sinking the cruel fleshy monster into her helplessly straining cunt another agonizing inch. Though she tried desperately to kick her legs free and escape the inhuman, torturing impalment, the ruthlessly imprisoning hands held her tight to the mattress. There was nothing she could do but clench her eyes tightly shut against the hideous pain of his slow, relentless penetration.
Bob propped himself up on his hands in the push-up position and flicked forward again, his toothy grin widening as the fleshy rod was buried another excruciating inch into Paula's wide-stretched pussy.
"Uuuuuuugggghhhh!"
He thrust forward again.
"Aaaaaaggggghhhh!"
Paula felt hot breath blasting down over her nakedness as the two watchers around the bed crowded in closer, their hungry eyes fixed on the lust-inciting spectacle of this young brunette's beauty being hopelessly impaled on the adolescent's colossal prick. She was dimly aware of hands clawing greedily at her heaving satin-smooth breasts and more hands and fingers crawling hungrily over every part of her flesh until she was certain she was covered with tiny crawling animals trying to enter every opening of her body. She began to sob hysterically, tears welling in great gushes from her pain-blinded eyes.
"Aw, let the little cunt have it all," Roger muttered vengefully from somewhere above her.
Obeying the older man's command, Bob pressed forward with a sudden crushing lurch that plowed the giant long cock deep into Paula's tight still-resisting passageway, pressing great waves of her pink soft flesh rippling before it. The cringing young wife quaked convulsively as the gigantic fleshy prick burrowed relentlessly up and up into her belly, forcing her inner organs to each side of its battering path, smashing anything that resisted its entry. It felt as though it were about to come out of her throat and her mouth if it didn't stop soon. It was tearing the soul from her agony-wracked body and was devouring it in great gulps of depraved sensuality.
Suddenly, with a bone-shaking jolt, the grunting youth's pelvis crashed resoundingly against the wide-split crevice of Paula's upturned ass and his balls smacked wetly down against the tiny puckered hole of her flinching anus.
The huge thick cock was buried to the hilt inside her helplessly quivering cunt!
The insolently grinning boy hovered motionless above her until the impaled beauty's pain-contorted face began to gradually relax, her tightly-clenched teeth opening in loose surprise as her painfully-stretched inner flesh slowly grew accustomed to the fantastic inhuman intrusion. The leering blond boy flexed the giant head of his prick deep inside her soft white belly, bringing another groan of agonized protest from her trembling lips. He flexed again, then again, grinning more wickedly as he heard her pleading groans grow softer and softer as her hot moist channel stretched and dilated around the heavily-veined thickness of his gigantic pulsating spear of flesh. He began a slow gyrating motion with his pelvis, then, grinding his colossal prick into her defenseless vagina, straining the still-cringing walls outward until the long, invading prick fit snugly up into her wide stretched little belly like a sword in its sheath.
Ursula's two other friends leered down to peer lustfully at the incredible sight of the enormously buried cock, amazed that the tight tiny hole they had seen between the young brunette's thighs before could have swallowed the whole length of it. Again, Paula felt hands searching frantically over the glistening twin moons of her ass-cheeks and she felt inquisitive fingers pulling cruelly at the fleshy fuzz covered lips that clamped so tightly around the huge, completely embedded prick.
She winced as she suddenly felt an anonymous fingertip probe under the heavy danging balls pressed into her tiny wrinkled anus, flicking teasingly at it like a wild unrelenting tongue. She stiffened when it paused and then suddenly popped through the tight surrounding nether ring, worming deeply into the tender spongy flesh inside. It moved slowly around, expanding the tiny opening until the very palm of the intruding hand pressed flat and hard against her rounded straining buttocks, the whole finger buried securely within the dry throbbing tunnel.
Kneeling over her helplessly doubled body the spotty-faced youth suddenly grunted impatiently and began a slow painful fucking motion in and out of Paula's moist, wide-stretched pussy. Grinning triumphantly above her, he used long, lunging strokes, thrusting forward mercilessly from the outmost crest of his withdrawal to slam her anguished young body deep into the mattress with every brutal stroke forward. The thick middle finger sunk in her asshole united with the massive, slow-drubbing prick as a rhythmic fucking team that brought groans of pain and yet, at the same time, gasps of ecstasy tumbling from her lips in cadence with the double invasion. The torturous pain was now miraculously fading and an odd sensation of tingling pleasure began to flow through the young woman's helplessly pinioned body. The unbelievable humilation and debasement she had borne so far that afternoon began to mingle with the glorious shivers of rapturous feeling in her cunt below, building up to form a strange masochistic excitement until she was lost in an endless soaring flight of exquisite sensation.
The muscles of her body began to flex in an unconscious rhythm with the cock and finger fucking into her vagina and wide stretched little anus starting her hips gyrating with ever-increasing speed to match the movements of the young brute above her. Unidentified hands still seemed to be reaching from everywhere to pinch and knead at her soft, white skin, driving the lovely brunette's sexually intoxicated body to greater heights of drug-induced ecstasy.
"Oh yes ... fuck me, fuck me," she chanted, squirming her sweating body to meet the crawling hands and fingers that clutched at her flushed and tingling flesh. Her eyes flickered open and she gazed around her in blurred ecstasy. Her shifting gaze moved back and forth between the two strangers bending over the bed, stroking their own rampant cocks in time to the monstrous prick fucking into her moist, wide-split cunt and the strange finger ramming ceaselessly into her now eagerly clenching rectum. She was a prisoner, a captive in this glorious land of cocks, a helpless prisoner to this beautiful ravishment of her cunt and asshole, pinioned between their battering slamming strokes like a trapped animal.
"Oh God, don't stop, don't ever stop! Fuck me, fuck me!" she crooned huskily into the air, rotating her upturned ass faster and faster to keep up with the two pistons of penis and finger pummeling into her like tireless fucking machines. Her entire being was centered in her loins and nothing else mattered now-just the surging exciting reality of the hard, palpitating flesh ramming into her hotly steaming young vaginal furrow.
Suddenly there was a new movement in the bed, another weight pressing down the mattress beside her head and, from someewhere above her, she heard a man's voice say, "Hey, Bob, flip her over so I can fuck her mouth while she's hot!"
Paula was too dazed from the force of her sexual frenzy to do anything but cry out in feeble objection when the rampaging cock was suddenly withdrawn from her wide stretched pussy. She no longer struggled against the eager hands that rolled her squirming body over on the sweat and cum-soaked sheets until she was resting flat on her stomach.
"Get up on your knees, bitch," she heaard a faraway voice command her, but before she could move, the other two impatient men had grabbed her smooth white hips and jerked her to her knees. She swayed for a moment as she knelt there on all fours, her dazed brain reeling with the effort of keeping her captive body erect as they placed her in the lewdly open kneeling position. She smiled hazily and groaned as she felt the boy's huge pulsing cock once again wedging tightly between her open legs. Unconsciously, she waved the wide stretched moons of her buttocks back at the young man and felt the huge blunt tip pressing against the now wetly flooded slit of her hungrily waiting cunt. With a ioud gnint, the boy lunged forward into her, brutally skewering into her kneeling body with his short blunt prick and causing her to jump forward, her eyes round and bulging in surprise at the sudden entry.
Then, "Oh, no!" she cried soundlessly as she saw a thick, towering length of cock throbbing heavily before her eyes. She gazed at it for a moment, lost in morbid fascination over its primitive appearance, the pulsing purple veins cording its white underside and the brittle forest of black pubic hair that curled around its base. She knew it must belong to the third man, Keith, and she closed her tear-filled eyes tightly shut when she saw the looming shaft of flesh move forward to within two inches of her wet, lipstick -rimmed lips. Then she felt strange fingers fumbling with her mouth trying to force her jaws wide. She felt a spongy wet knob of rubbery flesh pressing against her lips.
"Please, please don't," she mumbled piteously between tightly clenched teeth. But the stocky black-haired man placed the flat of his hand against her forehead pushing it back, and with the other hand was trying to force the wide fanning head of his excitedly oozing cock between the lushness of her lipstick-rimmed lips. She felt horror and revulsion and tried to shake her head away, but it was useless. The determined Keith's strength was too great and he held her so that she could not move her head even an inch. She could only clench her teeth and lips together as tightly as she could and try to keep the vile rod of throbbing flesh from entering her helplessly vulnerable mouth. But, he would not be denied his pleasure, not when both of his buddies had already enjoyed her gorgeous young body. The excitedly perspiring man increased the pressure until Paula felt as though her cock bruised lips were being pushed back through the sharpness of her own teeth. She heard him groan and push against the plush softness, feeling her jaw muscles give and part, tiny bit by bit, until suddenly he gave an extra hard lunge and crushed through the moist, soft opening into the velvety warmth of her mouth. She could feel the incredible hugeness slither back over her tongue, filling her cheeks until she was certain she would gag and choke on the hard fleshy thickness. She struggled against this obscene rape of her mouth but felt the boy named Bob, fucking into her from behind, suddenly thrust viciously into her already twice fucked cunt, ramming her forward until the thick pole of flesh embedded in her face disappeared deeper between her widely ovaled lips and wedged back hotly into the narrow channel of her expanded throat.
Her shame and humiliation retuurned anew as she felt her upraised buttocks being swept even wider apart by the thick long penis fucking into her defenselessly exposed pussy. Then, suddenly it began to ram wildly against her with a vengance and frantic growing abandon, and she could sense the men's hands working at her full milky breasts, and moving insultingly down the split of her ass-cheeks to the tiny puckered hole of her anus. Keith, in his excited state of animal lust, fucked his big cock back and forth between her roundly distended lips as he clamped his hands vice-like behind her slavishly bent head. The two lust-crazed animals quickened and paced their thrusts into her to match each other's lewdly timed fucking rhythm. Paula kept her eyes closed, still, and felt numb to the world around her. Her tortured mind closed out the reality of the breasts slaving at both ends of her delectable young body and she barely noticed when, Bob, behind her, momentarily slowed down his fucking into her helplessly spread loins.
"Hey, Roge, you'd better throw that switch by the mirror, like Ursula said," the young boy called out hoarsely to the one man who was still free to move around the room.
* * *
For almost an hour, John had sat nervously in Charles West's roomy, silent office, growing more and more anxious about the reason for his summons to the company president's private sanctum. Every room on the top floor of the West Building was thoroughly sound-proofed for privacy and the young editor fidgeted even more when he realized that his boss could walk in to the office at any moment, without the slightest announcement, and interrupt his mental meanderings. As the minutes dragged endlessly by, John laboriously invented and then discarded dozens of reasons why Charles' picture was not included as usual in the magazine.
Oh, the hell with it, the worried young man finally decided as he rose from his chair and began to pace quickly back and forth across the thickly-carpeted floor. If the old man fired him, he and Paula would be able to gety by a few weeks on the money Paula had brought home two nights ago. Just the memory of that strange evening in the kitchen made John slow his steps and a worried frown wrinkled his brow. Though he'd never asked for details about her windfall inheritance, he had an unshakable suspicion that Paula was not telling the entire truth about where she had obtained the money. The way she talked about the sizable sum and her newly-awakened interest in the state of their checking account reminded John of how he had felt when he had first started earning his own living in college, as a reporter on a small town newspaper. His frivolous young wife had never intelligent consideration to money at all, except that it was something she needed when she decided to go on a shopping spree. But now she seemed to be getting some peculiar sort of satisfaction from the idea that, all alone, she had increased their bank account by almost half.
That had to be it, John finally decided, shaking his head in amusement; she had found herself a job. But what could she be doing, he wondered. Six hundred dollars was a lot of money for a girl to earn who had married before she had finished college....
"You still awake in here, John?" Ursula's throaty voice broke into his thoughts. He turned to see her entering from her office, closing the paneled door quickly behind her. Charles just called and said he's been delayed. So I'm supoosed to tell you about his new idea."
"Fine, Ursula," John agreed, almost laughing aloud with relief that he would not have to answer to Mr. West today about that infernal picture. He smiled warmly at the voluptuous blonde who had perched herself impertinently on the edge of Charles' desk. "It's about time we got together anyway," he added. "After all, we're both really public relations people."
"Ah, we have more things in common than you know, dear," Ursula advised him with a sly mysterious smile.
Her dark-eyed gaze lingered caressingly on his face for a moment and then her expression changed, once again becomming business-like. "Anyway, now that the profits and sales are up so high, Charles thought he might have a little celebration for the board of directors. A sort of party, if you know what I mean."
"No, not exactly," John admitted truthfully.
"Well, you'll find out in a minute," Ursula shrugged. "He's set up a sort of preview of the entertainment, so that you can get together and design a little informational mailer for the members-full color, the whole works." She paused a moment, then added in a voice full of insinuation. "I'm certain this girl will pose for any pictures you might want. Charles pays her very well."
The young editor was intrigued but asked no more questions. After having worked with Charles West's idea that innumerable pictures of girls in bikinis were absolutely necessary to the sale of the magazine, John was fairly certain of what the "entertainment" would consist of. In fact, he was flattered that the company president had taken the trouble to set up a version of the celebration especially for him. After the accidental omission of Charles' picture in the magazine, John had been certain that the boss would dream up some bizarre way to express his great displeasure with him and the dark-haired young man could barely believe that he had received no violent repercussions from the seemingly awful mistake.
"Just watch the mirror," Ursula said softly as she dimmed the indirect overhead lights in the huge office. "If it gets to be too much for you, remember I'm right here beside you. I've wanted a long time to have you alone in a situation like this."
"I ... I didn't know that, Ursula," John said uncomfortably, confused by the hot, smoldering glances she was casting provocatively in his direction. "But what about Mr. West? I heard that, well, he and you...."
"Really, I wouldn't worry about that too much. Charles is pretty open-minded when it comes to things like that," the scintillating blonde purred, swiveling her sexy body around on the shiny surface of the huge desk so that her dramatically curving form was silhouetted in the light from the grey-tinted glass behind her. Suddenly a click was heard in the almost pregnant stillness of the room and Ursula immediately twisted back around to face the monstrous mirror at the side of Charles' desk. "Now get a grip on yourself, love, because this is going to be a scorcher ... And remember, I'm right here whenever you need me."
John barely heard her as he stared wonderingly at the wall-size looking glass, his eyebrows raising in surprise at the mirror first turned dark, then slowly transparent, revealing a sumptuously-decorated bedroom. He whistled appreciatively as the writhing trio on the bed came into clearer focus, his sparkling eyes drinking in the lewd sandwiching of a shapely brunette girl between two viciously fucking men.
Then John stiffened in his chair, his handsome young face paling as he blinked his eyes in disbelieving horror. Good God, it can't be!"
His mind blanked completely with paralyzing shock for a moment as he unwillingly recognized his own naked young wife swaying on her hands and knees like some kind of low animal bitch in heat between the two dirty-looking unshaven men. They were at each end of her on the mattress, ramming into her mouth and cunt with their lust-hardened cocks! And she was not resisting. Hell, she seemed to be enjoying every obscene second of it! He could see that her eyes were closed and that her voluptuous nude body was so limp and yielding that it rocked back and forth almost mechanically-as the two strangers fucked brutally into her ... sometimes simultaneously, sometimes out of rhythm in order to slam her into the other man's waiting groin. He could not believe it and rubbed his eyes hard with his knuckles to clear away what might be ... he hoped was ... just a terrible illusion. The young husband wanted to scream out his pain and horror, to turn and race out of the office and down the elevator into the street outside, to somehow pretend that what he saw through the two-way mirror was not true, but his whole body was immobilized and he sat there unmoving as though his own weight were too heavy to lift from the chair.
"Surprised to see your little wifey taking on two guys at the same time-and loving it?" Ursula taunted cruelly. This was what the embittered mistress had wanted all along-to get spiteful revenge against couples like the welleducated young editor and his prissy little wife, the kind of square, narrow-minded people who had always treated her like trash when they discovered that Charles had taken her out of a cheap nightclub on the wrong side of town to be his mistress but not his wife. "Actually, it's a compliment, John," she went on with sardonic humor. "Charles only buys the best."
The poor little fool had gone to Charles looking for a job, John realized as his mind cleared a little. He felt a stab of shame that his own constant denouncements of her silly extravagances had driven his impressionable young wife to become so deeply entangled in such a situation. He tensed his muscles, prepared to rush from his chair and break into that bedroom if necessary, to rescue Paula from those lousy bastards who were so brutally pummeling her helpless body back and forth between them. But then, he studied the scene in the glass before him more carefully, sinking back into his chair miserably as he realized once again that, far from resisting, Paula was almost insane with ecstasy. He could not get a good look at her face, but she was grinding her creamy round buttocks back against the loins of the blonde youth behind her like a hungry whore as his monstrously thick cock fucked in and out of her widely expanded little pussy like a freight train.
Good God, the astonished young editor thought, it was a miracle that the boy's huge young cock didn't split her body into halves like a fresh, over-ripened grapefruit. Resentment and jealously caused his blood to race like wildfire in his veins as he remembered the countless nights he had spent trying to coax her to even kiss his own cock ... and yet there she was sucking on that black-haired guy's prick like she had been waiting all her life to have one stuffed into her mouth. His own sweet, supposedly innocent wife was an absolutely wanton bitch as two complete strangers fucked into her at the same time, driving her tantalizingly beautiful young body backwards and forwards between them. It was as though she were just a willing plaything into which anyone could fuck as though she were nothing more than a common little street whore.
Suddenly he felt a surprising lurch in the crotch of his trousers. His own prick began to jerk to life from the stimulation of the lewdly erotic scene before him. His own body was betraying him! Jesus, I'm as bad as she is, he thought to himself as the uncontrollable rod of flesh between his legs climbed steadily upwards in unwanted erection.
"So it turns you on watching your wife get fucked by other guys, eh, John?" Ursula breathed seductively as she moved down from her perch on Charles' desk and walked seductively over to where the young man was sitting. Crouching down beside him, she snaked her arm over his thigh toward the telltale bulge that grew and grew in John's pants. "It turns me on too, dear. Now what are we going to do about it?"
CHAPTER SEVEN
On the other side of the two-way mirror, Paula moaned ceaselessly as the two men continued their debasing double assault on her greedily absorbing body. She was in a trance-like state and was not aware of the grey-haired Roge standing by the switch for the two-way mirror, chuckling lewdly to himself as he imagined the reaction of the watchers in the next room to the obscene spectacle on the bed.
Only at the outermost boundaries of her consciousness was the girl even vaguely aware of the men fucking into both ends of her naked body shouting vile encouragement to each other as they mattered her between them and she rotated her buttocks automatically and sucked obediently on the thick prick thrusting further and further into her now hotly sucking mouth.
The trapped young wife no longer felt human but like a great mass of quivering, sensitive flesh created to be nothing more than a warm, fleshy receptacle into which these men could pump their lewd hot sperm. She tried not to picture what she was doing, to realize the truth, but sometimes it was impossible not to. The dark-haired man's heavy balls banged against her chin and throat and there was a stale odor of sweat around his burly loins that filled her nostril with a constant reminder of what was actually happening to her.
Slowly, the very debasement of her situation tore through her mind and the very humiliation of the two men buffeting her viciously between them began to excite her, strangely, more and more. The hidden resources of desire deep in her belly blossomed out to full bloom once more and, groaning softly, she began to roll her smoothly rounded buttocks in lewd, luxurious little circles, tightening her ravaged cunt muscles as tight as she could on the giant fleshy prick skewering into her from behind. She wanted to milk it dry, to feel the sticky white sperm squirting into her stomach until it overflowed out her heatedly working pussy and ran down the insides of her desperately straining thighs.
Behind her. Bob was building toward the end. He began to thrust into her harder and faster, battering mercilessly against the milky cheeks of her upturned buttocks with his hard-driving loins. His big meaty hands gripped her eagerly writhing hips, squeezing the soft flesh into random crazy shapes beneath his clenching fingers. His lips bared back against his teeth and he could not close his mouth. He looked down at the softly rounded curves of the beautiful girl's slender bucking body and bobbing head and the sight of the lovely young brunette being ravished from both ends sent chills up his spine.
"Oh, shit, oh shit," Keith sputtered from somewhere over her head. "Christalmighty, just look at her go, will you!"
The saliva in Paula's penis filled mouth was becoming thick and sticky from the emissions of lubricating fluids that seeped from the end of the lust-hardened cock sunk into the warmly working depths of her throat. She could see Keith's slim hips straining before her face as thouugh he were in the throes of a spastic seizure. The husky dark-haired man's strong fingers wound tightly in her shiny ebony hair, pulling her wide-stretched lips back and forth over the entire length of his thrusting length of cock flesh. The ravished young wife felt her own excitement mounting more and more as the granite-hard penis began to throb and thicken to greater hardness in her hungrily sucking mouth, ramming forward down to her tonsils as though it were trying to collide with the mammoth prick pistoning into her belly from behind. She had never felt so utterly used and debauched in her life and yet every moment seemed to bring her closer to a brain-reeling orgasm. She sucked with her mouuth and ground her buttocks back wildly as her peak approached. There was nothing else in the world now but to please these two lust-crazed men as well as her luscious body could, and to wallow obscenely in her own pleasure at the same time. Simultaneously with the rising tide of her climax, she felt the huge cock fucking into her seething young pussy begin to jerk and inflate. She felt her plush young thighs and buttocks being swept wider and wider apart as the blonde youth drove powerfully into her, shoving his immense male cock as far as it could go into her belly crying out aloud and to spew his hot white semen deep into her wildly-constricting cunt.
Paula humped back on it violently as she felt the milky shite fluid flooding hotly into her dilated womb, filling it until she thought she would burst open. She felt it dribbling back out of the hair-covered lips of her widely stretched pussy jammed back against Bob's muscular loins. His bloated testicles slapped maddeningly down against her clitoris, causing her to lunge spasmodically forward, burying the one named Keith's swelling penis into her wildly sucking mouth all the way up to his pubic hair.
Then it too burst with a sudden violence, filling Paula's cheeks and throat with the boiling pungent liquid until she had to swallow rapidly to keep from choking on the great gushes of lewdly cascading sperm. Her lips clasped tightly around the lurching prick, fearful of losing even one drop of the precious fluid. Still, though, small droplets oozed from the corners of her roundly ovaled lips and on down to her chin as the dark-haired man collapsed on the pillows in front of her, his softening penis finally slipping out limply from her still greedily sucking mouth. Thin, glistening strands of the viscous milky fluid connected her lips to the now-deflated cock several inches away from her face.
The impassioned girl skewered her hips back onto the monstrous slamming penis still spewing its load into her throbbing cunt and with a wail from between tightly-clenched teeth, felt her wildly fucking body soar up and explode into what seemed a shower of tiny blazing stars, coursing through her whole being with an unbelievable ecstasy that sent her brain whirling crazily around in her lust-dimmed mind.
A moment or so later, her strength was suddenly exhausted and she dropped heavily down on the mattress as the huge cock popped out lifelessly from her sperm drenched pussy. Refreshing wafts of cool air rushed into the now empty opening up between her thighs as her body lay limp and spent on the sweat-soaked sheets.
"Well, well, what a charming little family-scene," Charles West's voice boomed into the dimness of his palatial office. "The marriage that stays together, plays together, or something like that, eh, Blake?"
At the sudden sound of his boss's husky voice, John leapt from his chair, wincing as his rampant cock tore free from Ursula Castleton's softly caressing hand. Blushing and mumbling incoherent apologies, the young editor stuffed his rapidly-deflating penis back into his trousers from where Ursula had pulled it only a few minutes before and zipped up the fly, fumbling awkwardly in his confusion and embarrassment. But then, as the perimeter of his vision caught the scene that was still showing through the transparent two-way mirror, his own wife lying sated and panting on a bed with two complete strangers heatedly expended sperm soaking lewdly up inside her body, something snapped in John's brain and he wondered why in the hell he should feel ashamed around the very man who had placed his own formerly decent innocent wife in such a disgusting and debasing position?
"Yes, something like that, Charles," John snarled, startling even himself as for the first time, he called the company president by his first name. "But there's more to it than that! My wife got six hundred dollars from you, didn't she? Was that generous sum for some other gang-fuck you set up for her or was it an advance payment if she'd keep you and your filthy friends happy for a year or two?"
"As a matter-of-fact, John, Paula has done nothing for me but fuck one of my friends, and a rather harmless little man, earlier this week," Charles said, smiling with cool amusement. "Of course, I did try her out first and, believe me, she guarded her virtue well until I slipped a little special aphrodisiac into her drink. However, I noticed that she really responded, as though she hadn't had a good fuck in her whole life."
"You lousy bastard!" John almost screamed with fury. "Then what is she doing in there with those three dirty bums?"
"I don't know," the middle-aged publisher said simply. "Why don't you ask Ursula?"
The young husband whirled around and caught sight of the beautiful older woman just as she was about to slip unnoticed back into her office. With a strangled cry of frustration and anger, John walked quickly across the deeply carpeted floor and seized her by the arm, dragging the golden-haired woman back from the doorway and throwing her brutally down onto a chair.
"Wh-why did you do that to her?" John raged down at the gorgeous blonde, his eyes afire with the wrath he felt. "How could you let them use her like that?"
Ursula stared hatefully up at him and Charles for a moment and then slowly her face relaxed into a smug, satisfied smile. "John, dear, you're forgetting one thing," she murmured venomously. "Whatever horrible things we made your poor little wife do, she certainly did enjoy them."
John did not even have to look back to the obscene tableau taking place in the two-way mirror to know that the mockingly smiling woman was speaking the harsh truth. No matter how much she had been drugged, he reasoned bitterly, Paula had no right to just surrender that way and enjoy the animal-like orgy he had just watched. And if she could enjoy it, well, she was nothing more than a two-bit little whore and deserved everything she had gotten and more, by God.
"Jesus Christ, stop smirking, Ursula, and bring the little bitch out here," Charles instructed his golden-haired mistress with the beginning of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. When the tall shapely woman had left the room, the slightly greying publisher turned to his young employee and casually said, "Why don't you pay her back, John? Hell, she's given you enough trouble since you've been married, according to what I could gather from my conversation with her. Why don't you teach her a lesson she'll never forget?"
"Christ, I'd like to," John muttered, grateful at this point for some sympathetic understanding, no matter what the source. "I'm damned if I know what would shock her enough, though. After this, it would have to be something pretty radical, something so vile that she'd have to come back to me."
"I think I can help you, son," the older man said with the same smooth sincerity he had used on Paula almost a week before. "If I really thought it would help you two, I'd gladly take the trouble to set up a party in my own home ... You know arrange some things that would make this afternoon look like a Sunday school picnic, at least to your wayward little wife."
"Yes, I guess that's probably what she needs," the handsome, young man agreed bleaklly. His anger was cooling now to a slow festering resentment and somehow the idea of his once-innocent young wife being forced into a situation from which only he could rescue her, if he chose to, filled him with a sort of grim, diabolical satisfaction. "What time?"
"How about seven o'clock on Sunday night?" Charles suggested solemnly, barely concealing his glee at the success of his cunning new scheme.
"And don't worry, I'll have a few choice pieces for you too, John, my boy, so you can have a little fun before the little lady begs to be taken home."
"Great, I'm going to need that," the bright young editor scowled. "I want to get myself a few phone numbers too, because that little bitch is going to have to come crawling on her hands and knees before I ever give her any again."
"Oh, John, darling, thank God you're here," Paula's sobbing voice suddenly sounded, filling the room as the now fully-clothed girl rushed in from Ursula's office, her pretty face streaked with tears as she rushed up to her husband and clung tenaciously to him. "I-I have to tell you something I've done something ... awful ... but I did it foi us. Oh God, I hope someday you'll be able to forgive me!" she babbled into his lean shoulder, her shame-torn body trembling uncontrollably with the delayed shock of what had happened to her in the bedroom next door.
"You don't have to tell me anything, sweetheart," John informed her stiffly, disentangling himself from her as though she were something filthy. "I just saw what happened in there, and it was charming honey. I didn't know you were so talented that way."
As she saw the cold distaste in her husband's unsmiling expression, Paula instinctively moved away from him. At first, her guilt made her think that John had every right to think of her as contemptible and unclean, the same way she felt about herself at that moment. But gradually, as his words registered fully in her tortured mind, she looked up into his face again, her dark eyes sparking with slowly kindling anger.
"Did you say that you saw those men rape me, John?" she asked with exacting slowness, as if wanting to be certain of every word. After what she had just experienced, she wanted to be absolutely certain of John's position. "You sat out here and watched?"
"Was it rape, you little whore?" her husband sneered. "Tell me about your great-aunt who died, honey. You don't get paid for rape."
Throughout the whole nightmarish week, Paula had somehow clung to her sanity with the idea that everything she was doing would ultimately help her marriage but now even that slim hope seemed to be fading away. She felt herself losing her last grip on her emotions and through the stinging tears that brimmed out of her flashing blue eyes, she glared up at John and snapped out, "I didn't get paid for this one, darling. If it makes you feel any better, and you can take my word for it, you just watched your wife being raped!"
After that, Paula let herself simply break down like a limp rag and cry openly. She had no more will to fight him as John led her grimly out of Charles' office on their way down to the company parking lot. Neither of them spoke a word during the long drive home.
* * *
Paul Blake's pixy-like face was alight with wonder as Charles West ushered her and John into his huge house the following Sunday night. Even though the address of the West family mansion had suggested that it would be imposingly grandiose, the awe-struck young brunette had not expected the sprawling house to be quite so magnificently appointed and comfortable. Built in the old plantation style of the mid-eighteenth century, the stark-white walls and wooden inlay floors were the perfect setting for the costly antique furniture and paintings that Charles preferred. The sleekly-dressed, obviously sophisticated people milling from room to room in the lavishly-adorned house seemed just as carefully chosen for decoration as the furniture.
Paula was still not certain just why she and John had to go to this cocktail party, especially after all they had been through with Charles in the last traumatic week, but John had been adamant, ignoring her mild protestations about the propriety of the whole thing. From the way most of the men and women were already paired off, drinking and chatting amiably around the generously-stocked bar and buffet table, the young brunette sensed that all the guests knew each other very well and she felt uncomfortably awkward and out-of-place as she followed her husband meekly to the bar.
Surrounded now by all these elegantly-attired strangers, Paula wished fervently she could look to her sullen husband for companionship and support but since Friday afternoon, he had been as cold and distant as a stranger. Not that she had worried very much about his cruel, indifferent attitude toward the humiliation she had endured for the sake of their marriage; no, she had decided on the ride home from the West Building that painful afternoon that he would have to learn to push aside his hurt pride or simply call off the marriage, no matter how much it would hurt them both. As a matter-of-fact, today she had almost reached to the point where she was looking forward to the promising evening here at Charles', if only to have a break from the stony, resentful silence that filled their modest home. Even though she was perfectly willing to take her share of the blame for what had happened, she was growing weary of John's undoubting assumption that everything that ever had or would go wrong with their marriage was due to her innumerable short-comings. In fact, even if he did finally recover from his anger and shock, she had a strange feeling that she would never be able to really forgie him for the way he had been treating her.
Something radical had happened to their relationship Friday afternoon in the boss's plush office and nothing would ever be the same again. It was just that Paula had stopped looking to her self-righteous young husband for the kindness and understanding she had always assumed were basic elements in marriage. She was ready now to admit the cold truth that she had actually enjoyed having sex with Charles, with his pudgy little business associate, and yet, even with those three sadistic friends of Ursula Castle ton! One terrifying week of blackmail and illicit sex had changed her into something else than a simple innocent wife, someone wild and free, almost strange. For the first time, she understood that sex was not just a part of love, but a rewarding thing all by itself. Yet, how would she ever share this newfound knowledge with her sulking resentful husband?
The worst part of it, the thing she could not quite admit, not even to herself, was that she was not sure she could be satisfied with any one man again. She had experienced much, and more sheer sexual fulfillment in the arms of complete strangers than she had ever felt with the husband she did truly love.
"I'm Neil Granger. Welcome to the club," a friendly masculine voice suddenly invaded her thoughts.
Paula looked up in surprise and saw an extraordinarily good-looking man standing next to her. "Thank you," she smiled sweetly, then asked in puzzlement, "What club?"
"Oh, that's what we old-timers call the swap group," he explained genially. "You too should be an old-timer by the time you go home tonight," he laughed and amended, "after the initiation ceremony I hear old Charles has cooked up for you."
"Oh, yes, of course," the baffled brunette managed to reply as her mind worked frantically in an effort to understand what the stranger really meant. Did John know, she wondered, or were they both just dupes again in another one of Charles' sadistic sex games.
Quickly collecting her wits, she fluttered her eyelashes up at the man and murmured, "I certainly hope I'll see you later, but now I have to go find my husband. I think he has my cigarettes."
Before the attractive well-dressed man had time to offer her one from his pack, Paula moved quickly away, then scanned the room for some sign of John. To her relief, she spotted him almost at once, talking to a sparkling covey of expensively-attired women in a far corner of the room. Moving closer, she signalled him to come away for a moment and, after throwing her a look of utter disgust, he finally disengaged himself from the group and walked reluctantly over to where she stood waiting by the bar.
"Well, what does my darling little wife want?" he inquired with the same sneering courtesy he had used with her for the last two days.
Paula chose her words carefully, determined to find out exactly how much John knew about what was planned for that evening. Assuming the most sweet and docile expression she knew how, the fresh-faced young wife humbly murmured, "Darling, I know that you'd just like to be rid of me for an evening-and believe me, I understand, I really do. I was thinking that you'd probably have a lot more fun if I just made an excuse and went on home. I'll take a cab."
John stared down at her in astonishment, his sullen anger of the past few days almost melting at his lovely wife's sudden change of attitude. For just a moment, he was tempted to put his arms around her lovingly and say they would both go home. Actually, he was also a little intimidated by the size of the party Charles had arranged for Paula's "lessort". But then, just as quickly, his keen smoldering resentment returned, much too deep and painful to be assuaged by any momentary sweetness on the part of this treacherous little slut of a wife. His memory of her naked body writhing shamelessly between those two strangers' hard pistoning cocks was still too clear in his mind to be erased by anything rational she might say now. He wanted the vengeance that Charles had promised him and she wasn't going to cheat him out of it.
"No! Stay here, Paula," he said with more vehemence than he had intended. Instantly softening his tone, he went on: "There are important people here tonight who might help advance my career. I don't want to edit American Industry for the rest of my life, you know. Now, dammit, get out there and circulate, unless you really want to be a stone around my neck."
Without even replying, Paula pivoted away from him and walked casually off, only her narrowing eyes showing her true feelings. His biting words had not actually affected her and she had heard only what she had been listening for in his words. There was no doubt in her mind now that John was in on the planned "initiation" and she had every intention of giving her husband exactly what he wanted ... in spades. If Charles and John had her, more than they had already, they had a lot more imagination and gall than she gave them credit for.
"Excuse me, but your name is Paula Blake, isn't it?"
The distracting beautiful girl recognized the male voice this time and smiled bouyantly up at Neil Granger, the handsome man who had tipped her off a few minutes earlier to what must be her own husband's spiteful scheme, "Yes, I certainly am," she said sunnily, wrinkling her nose cutely as she beamed warmly at him. "How nice to find a friend among all these strangers."
"Well, I don't know how to say this, but I just found out that you're not supposed to know about what's happening tonight," he said with a little shrugging grimace. "Do you think you could manage to act surprised when whatever happens happens? I'd hate to ruin everyone's fun for the evening."
"Don't worry about a thing," Paula said conspiratorily, winking as she hooked her arm around his arm. "As a matter-of-fact, I have a bit more experience in this sort of thing than the people here think."
CHAPTER EIGHT
A few minutes later, as the guests began to drift out onto the huge patio that constituted the heart of Charles' house, the voluptuous girl was not in the least surprised when two men approached her and quickly began to lead her to the far end of the immense grassy enclosure beyond the myriad of cushions spread on the ground for a purpose that was-now readily apparent to her. Laughing and conversing gaily with her companions, she gave the appearance of not noticing as they guided her up to a tiny raised platform built up against the wall of the house. Willingly stepping behind the red velvet curtain that shielded most of the stage-like balcony from the view of the many people in the large patio, she teasingly rubbed her body against the two men and did not object as they eagerly began to disrobe her. They were obviously relieved at her lack of resistance as well as damned excited by her passionate wrigglings as they teased and stroked her body, moving her steadily backwards toward a velvet-covered bed placed in the center of the platform.
It was all pretty much as she had anticipated, after her, talk with John, and she smiled with irony to herself as she heard the excited conversation beyond the stage curtain fade into stillness and Charles voice boom out broadly to fill the night air:
"Friends, we have a nice little surprise in our entertainment schedule tonight and, as I'm sure the word has already gotten around, I won't elaborate. Let's bring on our old friend, Zeus, okay...."
The curtain on the stage was drawn slowly open and the audience gasped in approval as they saw the naked young Paula seated on the stage bed, her large eyes already glassed over with anticipatory passion as two naked men brazenly ran their hands expertly over the most sensitive secret parts of her body. John saw the ferocious-looking dog jump on the platform, his deep warning growls scaring the two naked stage assistants off the platform before he lumbered closer to the bed to press her knees apart with his nose and sniff automatically at the thin hair-covered slit between Paula's slightly open thighs. As quickly as the men's hands left her body, the shapely young woman had become aware of the awesome, monstrous animal near her and smiling shallowly with the first traces of fear as she reached down to pat its great head, she made the beginning of a movement to close her legs and ease them cautiously away from the huge beast. Suddenly her eyes jerked wide open in real terror as the giant German shepherd growled even more menacingly, causing her to freeze in the position in which the men had left her, leaning back on the velvet coverlet, her soft white thighs still spread wide apart. It was impossible for her to move without bringing another vicious snarl from the dog, Zeus.
"Mmmm, he really likes her cunt," a voice rose loudly from the audience, followed by a flurry of ribald laughter and sporadic applause. Even in his determination to have his vengeance, John could not help but shiver slightly when the huge black-furred animal moved a step closer to his defenseless young wife on the lighted stage before him. His first natural impulse was to leap up and to to her rescue as he had planned to do eventually, but for some strange reason-one he could not understand-he decided to wait. The very helplessness of his beautiful innocent-looking Paula leaning back on the bed in front of all these people, shaking with fear before the snarling dog, was sadistically fascinating to him. He could not even turn away his solidly-riveted eyes from the sight. The lewd thought of the giant German shepherd raping his naked and defenseless wife, right in front of him and all those other people sent shivers of wicked excitement tingling through him. And besides, the little whore deserved anything that might happen to her now, he excitedly rationalized as he reached out to squeeze the expensively-clad shape of one of the women beside him.
His thoughts were quickly jerked back to the scene from which his eyes had not yet wavered. The monstrous dog had lowered his head to his terrified wife's soft, hair-covered loins and began to sniff in earnest interest. His bushy tail wagged in evidence of his excitement as though he had finally found the best mating partner of his canine life. Despite her firm resolution to "show" her husband, Paula moaned in fright as Zeus's cold nose suddenly made shocking contact with her tiny bud-like clitoris. She tensed as his saliva dripping tongue snaked out and licked wetly up and down the thinly fringed crevice between her thighs, the tip burrowing slightly into the wetness of her vaginal slit. For a moment, she tried to squirm away but Zeus raised his head and growled again, then began to greedily lap at the narrow pinkness of the delectable fleshy feast. He ran his tongue hotly up the full length of it, from the tightly-closed anal opening up over the fluted pink ridges of her pussy until it grazed the tiny nub of her clitoris at the top of her pubic mound. His great tongue spread through the silky softness of the hair-covered swelling like a knife through soft butter. It flicked relentlessly between the young silken-haired girl's wide-spread legs, pausing sometimes to curl its way deep inside her. She winced automatically, squirming under the hot wet onslaught of the fleshy member lapping and goring her cunt.
Holy Jesus, the wanton cheating bitch was actually moaning as though she likes it! At first, John thought his ears were betraying him but gradually he realized that the frightened sounds of before were slowly changing to soft subservient mewls of pleasure, almost inaudible above the gentle rustle of clothes being discarded throughout the audience. Not wanting to seem square to the swinging group around him, the handsome husband began to fumble with the buttons of his shirt, but still he could not take his eyes from the unbelievable sight on the stage before him. He shuddered with forbidden excitement as he saw more and more of a change coming over his wife as he and the rest of the audience watched breathlessly. Paula was apparently oblivious to the dozens of people watching her lewd sexual display.
Closing her eyes to the brilliant lights that flooded the platform, she grasped the dog's ears and with a deep animal sound of her own, bent her smooth white legs, lifting them upward until her feet were resting on the velvet coverlet and the softly curved moons of her cream-white buttocks were hanging out slightly over the edge of the bed. She pulled his pointed nose forward into her hungrily moistened pussy. His long pink tongue thrust up the moist passageway like an attacking snake, ravishing her now nakedly grinding loins without mercy. Whines and wild incoherent groans streamed from her lips, pleading and encouraging the dumb animal who was salivating so freely between her writhing white buttocks. The aroused dog worked like the savage creature he was, driven by the rutting lust of the wild in him. Below, Paula's husband watched his wife's milky-white flesh quiver as the lust-maddened animal lapped wildly at the teasingly open slit. This perverted stimulation was driving her insane and she squirmed forward so that the snake-like thickness of his tongue could give her greater and greater pleasure. She was willingly now rotating her naked white buttocks up against the animal's hotly burrowing snout, seeming to drown in the weirdness of the obscene unnatural act. The slavering dog lifted his head from her moist cuntal opening then, the impassioned young wife cried out in disappointment. My God, she was actually pleading out for more of the horrible, debasing excitement as though the very last of her natural resistance had vanished under the tortured licking of the huge German shepherd's tongue. She was enslaved by the huge animal panting over her, her helplessly quivering body spread-eagled under him as he reared up between her open thighs to place his forepaws on the softness of her breasts, his weight forcing her torso down to the mattress. John thought he would pass out from sheer shock as he saw his lust-crazed young wife reach forward under the dog with one hand to touch the thinly covered sheath that enclosed the hidden penis. His heart beat crazily as he watched her take hold of the soft skinned sheath and begin to milk it, first gently and then with increasing urgency. She seemed to flinch in fear when Zeus began to respond, his natural desire flaming up and jerking his muscles to greater life. Seemingly unaware of the many impassioned eyes trained on her perfect body, she labored steadily, carefully, gasping for breath as she squirmed back against the velvet bedcover, pushing the wet swollen lips of her cunt down hard in a useless attempt to soothe the tingling excitement growing more and more excruciating down in her defenselessly exposed loins.
From his choice position in front of the little platform, John observed a bizarre look of almost masochistic pleasure light his sex-hungry wife's eyes as the glistening red penis slipped out from the dog's fur-covered foreskin, dancing and jerking lewdly in her hand as Zeus began to make excited little humping movements and squirt tiny premature jets of clear animal-like semen on the sparse black pubic hair up between her wide spread legs. The young husband saw his depraved young wife sob with desire as she clenched her eyes tightly shut and thrust her smoothly rounded buttocks obscenely upward. It was a desperate attempt to capture the steadily lengthening shaft with the hotly pulsing lips of her now more hungrily grasping cunt. What the massive dog wanted was plain to see-and the beautiful brunette wanted it too, her white globular ass-cheeks lifting, and of their own volition, spreading themselves wide apart to his animal desire. The brutish creature's long hot tongue had lashed her into servile surrender, crushing her resistance and pride with its unmerciful and unyielding attack on her softly sensitive vaginal crevice until she no longer cared what kind of spectacle she was making of herself in front of her own husband and this lewdly aroused crowd of complete strangers.
The shining scarlet penis had slipped all the way out of its furry casing, dripping steadily from the tapered tip, dancing in the young girl's eagerly waiting cuntal crevice as the huge dog jerked nervously with the anticipation of sinking the thick shaft into her helplessly spread body. John saw his passionately writhing young wife continue to grind her cunt toward the long throbbing dog prick like a female bitch in heat and the very thought of his own Paula actually wanting to be fucked by this brute of a dog sent another electric chill of unwanted sensation through his loins. His own heart was starting to pound like a tom-tom and he frantically tore the rest of his clothes off, tossing them aside just as the sharp tip of Zeus' cock began to jab rhythmically between his wife's eagerly spread legs, trying to enter her, missing again and again and even prodding accidently down against her tiny cringing anus once or twice.
The slender, wide-eyed editor saw his black-haired bride of less than a year wince and tense, jerking in an attempt to evade the bending, up-slipping prod in sudden second thought fright, but the dog returned immediately to the attack after having had his first taste of success. John held his breath as he sat watching the huge dog bucking hard against his moaning wife, attempting to skewer her on the shiny head of the ever-lengthening taper of the long, dripping animal penis. At last, in desperation, Pauls shamelessly grasped the dog's rigid prick with one hand and with the fingers of the other she parted the thin hair-lined lips of her vagina, holding her mouth open in a widely ovaled "O" as the giant German shepherd jerked forward and suddenly burried his huge penis deep up into the moistly waiting mouth between her legs.
"Ooooooohhh! Aaaaaaahhh, yeeeeeeeeesssssssss!" The whole patio was filled with her moans of wild abandonment as Zeus humped more heavily forward and sank the full length of his lust-hardened animal-cock mercilessly up into her quivering young belly. The thick cock raced in, in, in, deep into the squirming girl's voraciously clasping cunt, filling her completely with its scarlet driving length. John's eyes bulged out in disbelief as he watched the lewd thing slither forward with a wet rush until it was in her all the way up to the hilt, its very roots straining out of the hairy sheath, the sperm-swollen balls finally thumping wetly against the upturned cheeks of her firm white buttocks. Further moans of relief came from Paula's lips, her lovely young face contorting under the lights in a lewd smile of ecstasy as she began to rhythmically rotate her hips to meet the heavy thrusts of the excitedly panting dog. Even as the beast's forelegs pinned her flat down on her back to the bed, she began to undulate the cream-white cheeks of her ass upwards, abandoning herself completely to the delicious animal fucking she was receiving in front of Charles West's whole sex group. Her glazed blue eyes were opened wide in rapturous wantonness and her large firm breasts danced and bounced in little quivering motions as the dog pounded his poker-hot thickness into her eagerly acepting cunt.
The flabbergasted young husband shifted his gaze a little and was astonished even more for a moment at the sight of the naked people passionately making love on the grass all around him. For the first time he realized that his own penis was throbbingly erect and that the beautiful naked woman to his right was caressing it hungrily as she gazed enviously toward the stage.
The filthy, fucking bitch, the goddamned whore, she loves it! John repeated over and over to himself. His own sweet little wife was actually loving the lewd beastial act she was committing here, in front of all these naked people, who were so worked up by the sight of the unnatural act being performed so wantonly before their very eyes that they had completely lost control of themselves!
"Christ," people whispered, "Charles had outdone himself this time." John could not believe it ... it was impossible ... and yet his breath, too, was coming in tight quick gasps and his heart was pounding fiercely. The burning sensation in his slim, tensed loins grew with maddening intensity with every moment he watched his innocent young wife being fucked half to death by the hotly slavering dog. The black-haired young man was beginning to perspire in the warm night air and his mind whirled as he fought against the strange stirrings of desire in his virile young body from the sight of his own wife being brutally violated by the huge German shepherd. But even then, the lewd spectacle sent another chill of pleasurable feeling coursing through his loins and he could now sense the seeping wetness of his semen at the end of his involuntarily hardening prick, lubricating the cool female fingers that were skillfully massaging him into greater and greater hardness.
Then, suddenly in the midst of his revery, a piercing scream rang out unexpectedly from the stage and Paula's loins rammed up against Zeus' furry belly just as he lurched forward and his scarlet cock began, to jerk out its hot sticky load of sperm in hard jet-like spurts far up inside her animal-ravaged young pussy. The passion-crazed young woman's buttocks began to pitch and toss crazily, signaling her own orgasmic upheaval deep in her quivering white belly. Thick white liquid oozed from the tightness of her vagina where it clasped and sucked at the hotly erupting prick, soaking her backside and the crevice between her wildly jerking legs as she groaned loudly and humped her open vagina forward to drive the heavily panting dog's cock deep into her stomach for the last time. The still-spewing length of red hardness lay buried completely up inside her for another long, passion-filled second as Zeus whined and shuddered, his lower body jolting helplessly forward as the last dregs of his warmly spurting animal sperm splashed wetly back against the lusciously beautiful girl's hungrily suckin.
Great raucous waves of appreciative applause began to surge through the patio even before the red velvet curtain had finished being drawn across the stage. The hand-clapping quickly ceased as the guests regained interest in their own naturally lewd preoccupations. After everyone seemed to be lost in sexual involvement once again, John rose from his seat, good-naturedly squeezing the naked breast of the girl beside him before he walked away.
As he slowly mounted the stage stairs, his thoughts were a mixture of anger and pride at his passionate young wife's lewd, unnatural performance. According to all the rules of conduct he had ever known, he had always assumed that an unfaithful wife was a bad and wicked woman. Now, though, he did not know what to think because his own male cock was harder than he ever remembered it being-all because of what he had just witnessed.
Behind the curtain it was dark but still he could barely make out Paula's beautiful violated body lying sprawled across the bed, the lewd white dog-sperm still glistening on her nakedly trembling thigh where the animal's withdrawing prick had smeared it.
"John...." He heard Paula's voice as she weakly lifted her head from the velvet coverlet.
"Darling, don't speak." He looked at her tenderly, knowing that he loved her deeply and could never leave her. He was going to show her now, how much he did love her. Actions speak louder than words.
"Love me, John, please love me!" she said weakly, pleadingly.
"Oh, I will," he said, and he would, very well and for a very long time.
