Elizabeth knew that unless something drastic happened quick, her marriage would be a failure. Her husband had a suggestion-wife swapping! Shocking! That was perverted, disgusting, degenerate, and highly enjoyable-as she soon found out. As Benjamin Morse, M.D. puts it in his book. The Sexual Revolution: "Because of the form of wife-swapping, the organized nature of it, the equation with fun and modernity and liberalism, the wife-swappers have succeeded in transforming a vice into something that seems to be positively virtuous."
CHAPTER ONE
Bright morning sunlight was beating against the drapes, trying to fill the room. It seeped through every crease and pleat, reflecting off the ceiling to announce the arrival of another day. Elizabeth turned over in bed, pulling an edge of pillow against her face as she tried to deny ... or at least delay the necessity of leaving the warm cocoon of sleep. She had felt like this for several months, depleted both physically and emotionally. Now, as wakefulness forced itself upon her, she heard the shower ... aware of it only as Rod turned it off. She twisted onto her back, maintaining a pretense of sleep.
Through half-closed lids she watched as her husband came out of the bathroom. She knew if she opened her eyes he'd be on top of her, driving his tongue down her throat and dropping that flagpole between her thighs. She wanted it, craved the feel of his iron-hard flesh on top of her ... in her. But she was also afraid. Ever since she'd lost the baby, intercourse held this horror for her.
"You're a perfectly healthy young woman," the doctor had assured her. "It was just an unfortunate accident. You worried yourself into a miscarriage, but that's no reason to expect it'll happen again." That was nearly half a year ago.
She'd recovered quickly-at least from a medical standpoint, and almost immediately sex became physically possible. For a couple of months it had not been too bad. She'd gone back on the pill, and while under the umbrella of its protection she had been able to satisfy her husband. Sometimes, she'd forced her body to meld with Rod's desires, to accommodate his plunging penis within her. It hadn't been quite the same as before-maybe never would be, all because lingering fear still haunted her awareness. The certain knowledge that this same sexual bliss had once resulted in the trauma of a miscarriage lay always in the back of her mind, blocking her own eager responses until she had to fake it.
Rod was standing near the bed, now, gazing down at her ... huge and naked, glowing from the shower, smelling of soap and shave lotion. "Lizzy? Are you awake?" he asked softly. The warm, bass vibrancy of his voice thrilled her, almost made her break the veil of pretense.
Instead, she sighed as if in sleep and stretched, inadvertently forcing the covers to fall back from her breasts as one arm dropped across her forehead. Her body had a natural sensuousness ... a compelling sexuality over which she had no control. It was as much a part of her as the golden blonde of her hair, or the firm, almost boyish hardness of her figure. But that was the only quality she shared with boys. She was a woman, fully and completely ... sexually ... except for her present state of emotional incapacity.
Still feigning sleep, she allowed her eyelids to steal open a tiny fraction. Through shading lashes she could see her husband. He was still beside the bed, watching her with an open expression of concern-a concern he would never have shown if he knew she could see it.
Rod was a policeman, a motorcycle cop. And that was part of their problem ... the root of it, really. Even before they were married-and before Rod joined the department-he had ridden a bike. He had encouraged Elizabeth to share his enjoyment on the roaring machine, to ride behind him and partake of his thrill when the rush of air coursed across their bodies, and the open landscape flashed by all around them ... unshielded by the metal walls of a car. She had done it a few times, but she'd been terrified, never able to conquer her almost spastic fear.
Now that he rode a cycle for a living, and she knew he was racing the powerful machine through traffic, maybe dodging in and out of fast-moving lanes on the freeway, she lived in a constant state of anxiety. She loved him and quaked at the thought of his danger. It was a cloying misery that had possessed her all through the months of pregnancy ... all four months, until her womb had finally opened and the half-formed life had slipped away from her.
Now, Rod wanted to try for another child. In a moment of weakness she'd agreed. She'd stopped taking the pill, and she knew her body was capable of conceiving once again. That knowledge had ended what little enthusiasm remained, and her mind forced its reluctance upon her flesh ... her desirable, sensuous flesh which Rod actively craved at this very second. She could see his heavy penis hanging a few inches above her, soft and vibrantly alive, ready to spring erect at the first sign of her willingness. And she did want it! That was the terrible part of it all. She wanted it and needed it-up to the moment he actually entered her. Then everything seemed to freeze. It was as if some icy hand clamped about her nerves, strangling them and immobilizing her body.
With a sigh, she opened her eyes and forced a smile, gazing up at this dark, towering, hirsute man to whom she had pledged her life to please. "Are you late this morning?" she asked. Her tone held an almost hopeful note.
"There's time," he answered softly. Again, the tremor of his voice evoked answering responses through the length of her body. Maybe, she thought. Just maybe ... this time....
"Then climb aboard, Big Boy," she murmured in her best Mae West. "Let's see what Rodney can find to amuse him." It wasn't fair, she knew. She realized her blatant display of desire made her appear the aggressor ... made their ultimate failure seem his fault. And it wasn't! The problem lay with her ... and only with her. But Elizabeth could not control her own responses, her real desire-no more than she could stop her body from knotting itself into a frigid lump when the crucial moment arrived.
Before Rod could move, her fingers reached up, gently stroking the head of his dick, playing with the loose flap of foreskin. She felt a surge of energy begin to activate his being, make his cock start to harden ... climbing toward its ultimate, rigid display of strength. Slowly, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers as his hand stripped the bedcovers completely off her body, allowing the morning sunlight to splash across her nakedness. They both slept nude ... always had from their first night together, a month before they got the license....
Rod was beside her, his muscular hardness against her hip while heavy fingers played along the center of her body. He traced a line that started at her throat, continued between the firm, upthrust cones ... palm grazing one brown-red nipple as the digits went across the center of her belly, twisting finally into the tangle of blonde hair that marked the upper boundary of her love-patch.
His mouth ground down on hers, his tense, trembling expectancy beginning to press its weight upon her, covering her hip and the side of her midsection. At the same time, his hand had spread its width across her patch, warming it as one long, seeking finger touched the cleft between her legs. Automatically, her knees drew up. She sighed as his mouth lifted and repositioned itself. Her lips responded to him, her tongue driving against his. She was trying. God knew, she was trying!
Rod's hand crept lower, until its heel rested in thick, silky fur. He closed firmly about her clitoris, kneading it, his rough-feeling fingers twisting gently about the stubby appendage. The tiny organ stiffened and she felt her glands release the initial drops of moisture. Then his other hand cupped about her breast. His thumb slid back and forth across her nipple, its tantalizing coarseness forcing a fresh swell of sensation to propel her body against him. She twisted sideways, driving herself in a display of hungry passion. Her velvet, lightly tanned skin brushed across the wiry hair on his chest. One hard-tipped nipple had buried itself in the tickling mass, crushed now as Rod hugged her to him. He held so long and with such strength his arms and shoulders began to tremble from the hard-flexed tension.
Rod twisted his body, forcing her down, back against the mattress as he eased his full length across her. She was pinned beneath him, aware of all his responding nerve-endings as his being seemed to vibrate in the intensity of these first few seconds. His rigid cock pressed its bulk between her thighs, the steely hardness distracting her from any other thoughts. Rod's position had forced it downward, so its extension lay against and partially within the outer fold of her labia. Her fluids were running freely, and she knew their lubricating moisture would compel him to seek a sheath for his flaring sword.
The imminence of this dreaded moment ... her moment of truth ... made her brain react. Already the creeping sensations of fear were forcing her to shudder, knowing the inner valves were tense in expectation. In another second, his rigid prick would slip between the membranes that seemed to invite his entry.
"Rodney's ready," he whispered against her ear. His tongue caressed the fold of pinna, then probed the canal. The sounds of his breathing echoed through the passage, exciting, tickling the ossicles and sending an almost unbearable sensation through the nerves beyond. Despite her fears, her head tipped back, pressing into the pillow while a groan of ecstatic desire escaped her lips.
Taking this as her expression of willingness-of readiness-Rod lifted his hips above her loins, reached down to position his cockhead. He was gentle, always gentle. She felt him run his fingers through her slippery secretions, applying this to his shaft before he lowered it against her. His rubbery crown rested between the widespread folds of her cunt. She pictured the hard, huge power of it ... its fold of foreskin gathered above the flaring head, the smaller girth behind, tapering like a wedge toward its massive base. She couldn't see it, of course, but she easily conjured up an image of the living, palpatating bulk. The sight of its veined and rigid contour had always excited her, made her body-her very soul-cry out to have it buried in her. If she could only do it now; if she could only recapture the lust that had characterized their earlier relationship....
He started to take her. Almost warily, he drove his cockhead inside her, brushing past the open, outer folds, nudging gently at her inner gate. She tensed. She couldn't help it. Her body rebelled and there was no way she could control the response. Rod retreated ... just a fraction. His weight was on his elbows, and his face hung so close to hers his features blurred in her vision. Still, she could see he was anxious ... tense, the same as she. A tiny movement at the top of his jaw told her he was gritting his teeth as he always did when he was nervous.
Already, he might be blaming himself, she thought ... making excuses for her. He hadn't built her up enough, he'd reason ... hadn't kissed her breasts, sucked on their rounded fullness ... hadn't dropped his head between her thighs, prepped her as he should have done ... as he usually did. But, damn it! There wasn't time when a man had to leave for work. She was his wife, not some innocent virgin that had to be coaxed and treated as if she'd break. A man was entitled to start his day with a quick tumble ... nothing wrong with that ... no reason why he should go through the whole routine. It shouldn't be necessary. It never used to be.
Abruptly, her thighs moved, trying to clamp together. But they couldn't, because Rod's hips were wedged between them. At first it seemed as if she were fastening herself about him in passion. His cock plunged more deeply into her, and Elizabeth almost screamed. What actually came out was a gurgling, frothy expression of fear-induced agony.
Rod sighed and held where he was. But even this was more than she could bear. Frantically, she wrenched free of him, driving her ass down hard against the mattress, forcing it to give until the rigid tool slipped out, striking the sheet and the underside of her crotch. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She wanted to cry, but that only made it worse. Biting her lip, she held back the tears until Rod climbed off her. Without a word he turned away, walked to the closet and started getting dressed.
In a crush of disappointed misery she remained as she was, knowing Rod was angry, frustrated, yet struggling to convince himself he hadn't given her a chance. He'd tried to rush her when there wasn't time.
"It'll be okay," he said at length.
But Elizabeth wondered if it ever would be again.
CHAPTER TWO
Rod held his cycle steady, pacing the cars on either side of him, aware of the nervous, sidelong glances of the drivers. Cops always affected people like that ... guilty conscience ... that's what a cop is ... everybody's conscience in blue uniform and crash helmet, and with a bulging, painful hardon in his crotch. Damn! The continuous, purring vibration against his prostate was driving him nearly wild.
If I could just get a piece of ass! Shit, I'm a married man ... got it all laid out for me in the sack, and I can't get it. Either jack-off like a fuckin' high school kind, or go without. He glanced back at his partner, Bert, riding to his left and half a length behind. Bert was single, only a year or so younger than Rod ... shit! Bet he's getting more than I am ... probably new pussy every night....
Bert saw Rod's backward glance, and thinking his partner wanted to talk with him, goosed his Harley so it surged forward, coming even with its twin. "What's up?" he shouted over the racket.
"Nothin'," called Rod. "Let's take a break!"
Bert nodded, pointing toward the next off-ramp. Rod returned his motion, and both officers sped forward, streaking around the traffic, braking as they started down the incline. They pulled into a hot dog stand for coffee, and sat on a bench to drink it. Rod had discussed his problems with Bert before, and as they sat in the warm patch of sunlight, he had little hesitancy in broaching the subject again. Bert listened to him in a straight-faced silence, making subtle, almost unnoticeable motions with his head in response to Rod's words.
"So, what the hell's the answer?" he finished at last.
"Well," replied Bert, sighing and watching his partner closely, "I'd make a suggestion, but you might pop me for it."
"Listen, any idea'd be welcome at this point," said Rod desperately.
Bert shrugged. "I've been answering the Free Press ads," he said. "It's a blast!"
"You mean the sex ads?"
"Sure! Lots'a nice chicks. I answer the swingin' couples ads, too," he continued. "Some of 'em want a single guy or a single chick, you know. And if they only want another couple ... well, Patsy plays the game and I take her with me."
"Jesus, Bert! I couldn't cheat on Lizzy like that," said Rod.
"You don't have to cheat. Take her with you. Answer a couple-for-couple ad ... better yet, if you can talk her into it, I'll set you up with a really groovy pair. That way you'll know you're getting something good the first time out."
"I don't think Lizzy'd go for that," said Rod. "And right now, she's off the pill. I don't want her getting dicked by some other guy and maybe raising some little bastard...."
"Listen, buddy-boy, you told me one day she's off the pill ... and two days later you're telling me you're having troubles. If you want my advice-which you probably don't even though you asked for it-put her back on the medication and if she's still up-tight get her into some swingin' foursomes until she's back to liking it again. Then, you can start worrying about when to make babies."
Rod wasn't sure at all. For the rest of the afternoon Bert's words weighed heavily on his mind. Cut off from the necessity of additional conversation by the roaring motorcycles and the whistling rush of wind, he tried to predict Lizzy's reaction if he suggested such a thing. She was lusty enough, he supposed. He knew she'd been around a little before he married her. Shit, what airline hostess hadn't? But she came from a conservative, straitlaced family, and a lot of this early indoctrination had stuck with her. Like himself, she regarded the bonds of marriage as something more than idle words spoken to fulfill a legal requirement.
But the idea intrigued him, and the agonizing pressure between his legs was driving him to a desperation that transcended any moral mumbo jumbo. He just wasn't sure how it would sound to her. Still, he was tired of trying to tell himself it was his failure when he knew it was hers. Somehow, they had to solve it. Otherwise it meant their marriage. While he knew better than to face Elizabeth with an alternate choice on just this basis, the implication was clear when he finally steeled himself and said it.
He had taken her in his arms as they lay in bed. Each was wide awake, wondering what thoughts passed through the other's mind. Lizzy had been facing away from him, and he pulled her back into the concave arch of his body. His cock responded at once to the touch of her satin-smooth warmth, and he felt her tense as the pulsing hardness pressed along the crack of her ass.
"Have you still got some of your pills?" he asked softly.
"What pills?"
"The Pill," he replied. "The anti-baby pill. You still got some?"
"Yes." She twisted her head and shoulders, trying to see his face in the darkness. "You ... you want me to start taking them again?"
"I think it might help," he said. He trailed off, then, hesitant to go the next stop. After all, maybe the pill is going to do it. Maybe she'll get back in the groove, and the rest won't be necessary. Might be fun, anyway, though ... if she'd go along. He felt his cock grow stiffer.
Elizabeth waited for Rod to continue. She knew he had something else on his mind. His tone told her that, and she knew it wasn't just the prodding shaft that wanted to bury itself somewhere in her body. She half suspected what he wanted to say, had toyed with a similar suggestion herself. After all, if she couldn't satisfy him, was it fair to make him go without? Poor guy's so horny all the time, he can't touch me without springing a hardon. If he wants to go out and get a little ... as long as I don't have to see her, or know about it ... In spite of herself, a tear ran down her cheek, and she pressed her head into the pillow so Rod wouldn't notice. Forcing her voice under control, she braved the question.
"That's not all you wanted to say," she whispered into the pillow. "You wanted to suggest something else."
She felt his grip tighten about her, his fingers splaying so they touched both her breasts. Then the rumble of his voice started against her spine and desire was building all over again. "I just thought...." Rod faltered.
"What?" she urged.
"Oh ... nothing important," he told her.
"I think it is," she insisted. "I ... I'll go along with any suggestion ... any idea...."
"Let's wait," said Rod. "Let's see how it goes when you don't have to worry about getting pregnant."
She snuggled against him, feeling warm and loved, It was going to be alt right, she told herself. Everything would be okay.
But it wasn't. A week, two weeks later, the problem remained the same. Even with the pill, her body still froze, and nothing Rod could do would turn her on. Worse, she knew he had done nothing about taking care of himself another way. At least if he had she might have defended herself by condemning his lack of faithfulness and understanding. Instead, he patiently tried to help her ... took his time ... tried every trick in the book to make her body respond. He sucked and kissed her breasts until he made the nipples sore ... twisting them, nibbling on them, driving her in paroxysms of uncontrollable ecstasy that promised fulfillment for them both.
To further assure her arousal, he bathed her body with his lips and tongue until he felt the skin grow noticeably warmer, until she shrunk beneath his touch because the sensations were too intense for her to bear. Then he had dropped his face between her legs, driven his tongue into the retreating folds. As he had with her dark-rose nipples, he plunged his hot, moist tongue deep against her vulva. He brushed across the inner labia ... the opening his desperately throbbing cock desired. He tongued the tiny pee-hole and slid forward to her clit. He laved it, bit down on it with his lips, pulled and worried it until it grew hard, larger ... like a tiny penis.
She was gasping and her body was so totally on fire it seemed another modicum of arousal would make her come. Her legs clamped about Rod's head, folding his ears downward to make rushing, roaring sounds like the ocean one hears within a shell. She held him imprisoned, hoping ... praying her present state of receptivity would last until he repositioned his loins against her thighs ... pressed that huge, beet-red knob within her cunt ... pressed it down ... into her....
But when he tried, she shut him out again. Her failure was like cold water thrown on a pair of rutting breasts. Their motions ground to a halt, and for the first time she heard anger in Rod's tone. "Fuck!" he shouted. He rolled off the bed and trotted toward the bathroom ... his big cock waving in front of him, hard and dissatisfied. He slammed the door, and after a while she heard him piss. When he came out, his cock was soft, hanging heavy and limp ... big and blood-bloated, but flaccid like it always was after he'd come. She wondered if he'd ... well, she couldn't blame him if he had.
Elizabeth started to cry, loud racking sobs that approached hysteria. "I don't know what's the matter with me," she squeaked. "I don't know, but ... Rod, if you have any ideas, for Christ's sake tell me!"
He hadn't climbed back into bed ... just stood beside the mattress and stared down at her in the blackness. He made no move to touch her, to comfort her misery. She knew he was angry, and his words added additional proof of this. "How 'bout a four-way?" he asked flatly. "If I can't do it, maybe another guy can ... and ... at least I'd get a piece of tail while you're trying."
It was so cold ... spoken as if love never entered into it ... as if sex were something entirely different and ... divorced ... The word frightened her. She didn't know what to say, though she knew Rod was waiting for her to speak. The idea had taken her completely by surprise. She had expected him to tell her she'd either have to take care of him or he'd find it someplace else. She'd been expecting this for days, and had convinced herself she'd accept it. It never occurred to her he might go off on his own and say nothing about it. No, that wasn't like Rod. If he did anything he'd tell her ... probably beforehand. But to suggest a four-way ... an orgy....
"Well?" asked Rod coldly. "Are you game? Bert gave me the name of a couple, and I could give them a call for this weekend. How about it?"
Her sobbing stopped and icy fear came down about her. Her first response was to be hurt ... to think Rod would willingly give her body to another man! A man he hadn't even met! But maybe that was the real reason behind it. Maybe he hoped someone else could bring her back to a normal sexuality, whereas he could not If that was it, it was a display of love ... of concern. Of course, he'd be with the woman ... the wife of this man he was suggesting ... But wouldn't that be better, really? Wouldn't she rather have him do it with someone she'd met, and not be off someplace with God-knows-what, and her at home wondering?
"I take it the idea doesn't appeal to you," he said in response to her protracted silence. His voice sounded cold ... hard, almost ... rumbling down toward her from the blackness of the looming shadow beside the bed.
"If you want to," she said evenly, forcing her tone to remain steady. "Whatever you want," she added. "I'll give it a try."
CHAPTER THREE
They entered the small apartment almost fearfully, neither knowing just what to expect. But Mona seemed small and fragile, certainly nothing to be afraid of. Her long chestnut hair was brushed like glossy silk across her shoulders, hanging down her back in a river of sleek, slightly uneven waves. "Bill went out to get some cigarettes," she said. "He'll be right back. Why don't you sit down and let me get you something to drink? Unless ... you'd rather have...." She gestured toward a glass box on the coffee table, and for a moment Lizzy wondered why Bill had gone for cigarettes.
Her second glance, and her own dawning realization answered that. The little cylinders in the box were white, but they obviously were not the products of any regular tobacco factory. She looked at Rod, not knowing whether he was about to drag her out, or if he even realized what those things were. But she could tell he knew, and much to her surprise his face betrayed not the slightest concern. "Maybe just a beer for me," he said to Mona. His tone was casual and even, as if he were speaking to any other friend they had ever visited.
"How 'bout you, Lizzy?" asked the girl politely.
"Maybe just a Coke," she replied. Her throat was dry, and her voice reflected the strain ... the fear that began to settle about her.
Once Mona was out of sight, Lizzy looked anxiously into Rod's face. "Isn't that marijuana?" she whispered.
"Guess so," said Rod. At first his tone betrayed no emotion or surprise. Then his lips curled into a grin and he patted her gently on the thigh. "Don't sweat it, baby," he told her. "We're here for a good time, remember? If these people dig pot, that's their business."
"Fine attitude for a...." She broke off at his warning frown.
"There are laws against other things, too," he said softly. "Let's not worry about it tonight. And forget what I do for a living. If we see them again ... plenty of time to tell them then," he added with a touch of firmness.
Elizabeth could never remember his being this directive with her before, but she quickly sensed he was almost as tense as she. Yet, Rod seemed determined to enjoy this evening, regardless of any standards he had previously maintained. By the act of entering this apartment they had shed their cloak of righteous pretense. They were not a happily married, conservative couple, adhering strictly to the mores of their society. They were two people ... two human animals in quest of some transitory thrill, an excitement they could only find outside the boundaries of conventional morality.
She wasn't shocked. At least, she tried not to be. God knew, pot was common enough, and widely Used enough that she should not have been surprised to see it ... maybe should be more surprised not to have had it thrust at her before....
Her thoughts were interrupted by the front door opening. A tall, slender man came in. He had blond hair to his shoulders, and wore a pair of flowered flare pants. His white shirt was like a short, painter's smock, pulled in about his narrow waist by a wide, brown leather belt. "Hi!" he said brightly. "You must be Rod and Lizzy. I'm Bill." He extended his hand to Rod, who stood up and took it.
"Mona getting you a drink?" he asked.
"I'll be right out, dear," came Mona's voice from the kitchen.
"Well," said Bill, settling into a chair across from his visitors and draping one leg over the arm. "I'm glad you got here all right. Sometimes the place is a little hard to find."
Elizabeth watched this man who was presumably going to be her lover for the night, and felt a strange twisting in her gut. It all seemed so cold and matter-of-fact ... as if she were a bitch or mare being taken to a stud farm for servicing. Bill was attractive enough, she decided ... kind of a hippie type with all that hair, but lean and virile-looking-clean certainly. In his present posture he displayed a sizable mound about his crotch, and he had the lithe, sexual aura of a cat.
Mona, she decided, was equally attractive, displaying her natural beauty without benefit of makeup-except for the almost colorless lipstick.
"Here we are," said Mona, passing around the tray of drinks. She spoke softly and smiled in open friendliness at all three occupants of the room. "I'm sorry it took me so long," she apologized, "but that darned old refrigerator keeps freezing over, and it plays hell getting the ice trays out. Lizzy," she added, "I put just a little vodka in your Coke. It's good for the nerves." She winked as she handed Elizabeth the glass.
"Thank you," she said. What else could she say? Probably just as well. Surprising, she should be so perceptive. Or was it experience? Wonder how many other wives she's helped to calm ... to prepare and maneuver into the pen for her stud to ... fuck. That's the word ... FUCK!
There was an uncomfortable moment of silence after this, but before it degenerated into a more embarrassing pause, Bill spoke up. His tone was bright, possibly a trifle too loud ... nervous? Lizzy wondered. "So, Bert tells us this is the first time you folks have done this ... met someone through an ad, I mean."
"Yes, it is," she heard Rod answer.
"Have you done it ... I mean, do you...?" Lizzy tried to smile, but the whole situation unnerved her. She covered her expression by taking a deep sip from her drink, wincing at the strength of it.
"Oh, we've met a number of groovy people!" said Mona enthusiastically. She had returned her tray to the serving bar, and now settled cross-legged on the floor in front of Bill's chair. Absently, she reached up and he took her hand. Under other circumstances, Elizabeth would have considered them a typical young, loving couple ... two people very much attracted and ... complete.
"How ... long have you been married?" asked Elizabeth.
"Two years," said Bill. "And you?"
"Three," Rod told him.
Elizabeth wished he'd come a little closer to her on the sofa. Somehow, she felt they should display the same unity as their hosts. But he didn't move, and a few moments after that it didn't seem to matter. Mona got up to turn off the bright overhead light. The two men started talking about motorcycles, as it seemed Bill owned a Triumph-the same as Rod had for his off-duty pleasure. Elizabeth had been sipping her drink, and began to feel the effects of it.
The idle conversation continued for another half hour or more, during which time several subtle changes took place within all of them-or at least so it seemed to Elizabeth. Into their second drink, much of the initial reserve had faded away. The room was warmer, both as regarded the actual temperature and the general feeling between the four occupants. Perhaps as a result of her drinks, Elizabeth experienced a pleasant glow, matched in her mind with the reddish-amber of the distant table lamp. She was no longer afraid, though it would be overstating the case to say she was completely comfortable.
Mona, who was the only person moving about the room, had been careful to keep their glasses filled. She now lighted the gas jet in their small, corner fireplace, and set a couple of logs on the grate. The flame was low but pleasant, increasing the intimacy of the atmosphere. Mona now turned off the lamp.
"Our seductress is preparing the scene," laughed Bill.
"Yes, low lights ... now music," countered their hostess. And fitting action to words, she set a stack of LP records on the stereo. The first selection had a primitive background of jungle drums, with a mellow-voiced, female folk-singer chanting above them. Mona turned the volume down so the sound did not prevent their hearing one another. Still, the deep bass rhythm reverberated through Lizzy's viscera, seeming to awaken her flagging sexuality.
Now, most assuredly feeling the effects of her drinks, she had glanced several times at Bill, who seemed to assume an air of greater appeal each time she looked at him. Once the fire had been burning for several minutes, the room became quite definitely warm. Mona opened a window in the kitchen. Rod and Bill were still involved in animated conversation, discussing campsites and newly established bike runs. Without breaking his flow of words, their host stood up and unfastened the belt from about his waist. He pulled the long sack-shirt off, over his head, and tossed it across the back of his chair.
"Why don't we sit over here?" he suggested, pointing to several large cushions on the floor near the fireplace. He started to follow his own directions, but detoured past the coffee table to take a cigarette from the glass box. As his lean, hard-muscled torso leaned close to her, Elizabeth noticed his friendly, knowing grin that otherwise seemed lost in the dark shadows. "Come on," Bill whispered encouragingly. He held his hand out to her, and without hesitation she took it. He pulled her gently to her feet as she glanced in Rod's direction. Vaguely, she wondered what her husband's reaction would be, now that Bill had made the opening overture. She was almost disappointed to see he was watching Mona, where the other woman had already settled on one of the orgy pillows.
Bill's warm palm encased Lizzy's hand as he led her to the collection of cushions. Mona was seated nearest the hearth, and Bill directed Elizabeth to a seat facing the fire, leaving a space between herself and Mona. He settled on her other side, while Rod hunkered down between the two girls. Bill poked a long splinter into the flames, lighting his cigarette from this. Taking a couple of deep drags, he passed the glowing cylinder to Elizabeth.
Again, she felt uncomfortable ... indecisive. She held the marijuana cigarette as if afraid it was going to bite her, and cast another anxious glance at her husband. He had been watching, and now responded without any show of surprise or concern. It was as if he were suddenly a different person, someone she hardly knew. "Try it," he said softly.
She did, and found the sweet, cloying taste far more pleasant than she'd expected. The cigarette made the rounds several times before it burned too short and Mona tossed it into the fire. Reacting to the warmth, Rod had also removed his shirt; so both men were now naked to the waist. Elizabeth found it difficult to maintain her wall of reserve, surrounded as she was by this dual display of masculine virility. The combination of pot and alcohol had also eroded her natural restraints, until she felt her body flushed with a warmth that exceeded any intensity attributable to the fire.
Mona took out a deck of tarot cards and began playing them out on the floor in front of them. Bill brought the glass box of cigarettes and placed them beside his cushion. No one was drinking any more. The music had changed to a deep, rock beat that tingled into the depths of Elizabeth's innards. Rod was leaning toward Mona, who explained the meaning of the exotic pictures on her fortune-telling cards. There was just enough cool air coming in from the kitchen to relieve the intensity of the fire's heat; yet, a-glowing warmth continued to permeate Elizabeth's being. When Bill passed another joint to her, he held onto her hand, and she knew the moment was fast approaching when the purpose of their visit was going to be realized. Inexplicably, the idea no longer troubled her.
"Yes, it's a very auspicious meeting," said Mona softly. "The king and queen are side by side, and all the negatives are separated ... See?"
As she pointed to the various bits of colored plastic, Mona shifted slightly closer to Rod, who slipped his arm about her waist. Elizabeth tried to see her husband's face, but he was turned away. When she looked back at Bill, his features were close to hers, his light-gray eyes focused intently. As naturally as if they had done it many times before, his arms moved about her upper body, and his naked chest came against her. She moved into his embrace, seeming to float on clouds of pleasant desire, mixed with euphoric unconcern.
After that, she stopped thinking about the logical aspects of her circumstances. Her body was responding to Bill's touches, and she no longer possessed the will or desire to resist him. She had worn a shift, and under this only bra and pantyhose. There was little to obstruct the warm, dry hands which now began to explore her body. He was experienced, she knew, and this was not the unique situation for him that it was for her. She let him go ahead, as Rod seemed completely agreeable, already starting to do the same with Mona.
The cards had been collected, thus clearing the heavy shag rug between the cushions. Bill moved Elizabeth forward so she was sitting on the floor, her back against the pillow as he began his lovemaking. His lips were working on her throat and the area beneath, all that was left exposed by the low neckline of her dress. One hand was cupped about her breast, while the other lay warm and motionless against the nylon covering of her inner thigh. As yet he had not actually kissed her ... had not placed his mouth to hers, but his incredibly passionate contact was arousing her until she wished he would. She wanted his tongue to pass between her lips; nor did her mind dwell even fleetingly on the fear she had lately experienced with Rod.
Bill's fingers began working the zipper on the back of her dress. She felt it give, and she bent forward to allow him easier access. Cool air passed across her shoulders. In a moment he'd have it off ... and that was all right, too. Suddenly, the idea of being completely nude before this man excited her. Whether it was the pot or the alcohol, or a combination of both-plus the calm assurance of her hosts and the quiet acceptance by Rod of all that took place ... she could not have said which elements combined to make her feel as she did. It was as if nothing mattered except her basic urges, and these were quickly nearing a boiling point as Bill's long, thick fingers undid her shift. He started pulling the material up, lifting it over her head.
Then the dress was gone and Bill's hands were traveling across her body, warm and rough upon her tender skin. He shoved himself against her, pressing her head against the pillow as his lips came down on hers and she seemed to enter a world in which nothing mattered but the pleasant, sensual contacts of heated flesh against her willing body. She closed her eyes, allowing him to do what he pleased with her. She felt her bra come loose ... then it, too, was gone. Warm moisture enclosed first one breast, then the other ... tongue flicking across stiffening nipple while the pounding music echoed through her head, almost obscured by the mounting bliss that thundered at her temples.
His sucking, kneading possession of her teats was driving her nearly wild. Completely beyond any voluntary control, her body writhed and twisted against him. Her fingers twined into the long, silky locks of his hair, pulling his head harder against her bosom while she drove her loins into the solid arch of his body. She felt him reaching down, fumbling with his own fastenings ... opening his pants, wriggling to force the fitted, flowered flares down his thighs. She never opened her eyes, but she could feel his motions travel lower as his legs worked the cloth down and away from him, finally kicking free entirely.
She felt his hard, demanding rod graze along her thigh, slip between and come to rest against her crotch. The sensation of his seeking hardness, separated from her skin by smooth, slick nylon, became a tantalizing extension of her excitement. The heavy shaft was full against her crack, straining forward so it exerted a strong, steady pressure. She clamped her thighs about it, felt it sliding along its slick, cloth channel. Bill's arms encircled her, and his lips touched gently on hers. For a moment he seemed to nuzzle her, shifting, kissing her lightly from several angles. Then he came down hard, tongue driving between her teeth, into the depths of her mouth while his grip about her body tightened and his steady, fucking motion speeded up between her legs.
Hot, fierce waves of feeling commanded her, forced her muscles to react, drove her harder against him. But his grip about her torso denied this relief, and her compelling urges found no physical outlet. She whimpered beneath the possession of his kiss. Deep in her chest a long, deep moan awaited the moment when his lips receded from their absolute domination. Her hands had traveled the length of his sides and back. He was shorter, more slender than Rod. His body was smooth and hairless, with a satin quality that almost matched her own. But beneath this he was solid, and his lean body responded with a lithe malleability. He seemed to mold himself into total reciprocation of her contours, causing his skin to touch so they clung together along the entire length of their bodies.
Finally, Bill's mounting passions reached a point where the film of nylon became a denial rather than an asset to his voluptuous contact. He pressed one final, deeply driven kiss upon her, and abruptly sprang back onto his heels. Kneeling between the spread of her calves, he began peeling the pantyhose down from her hips, allowing the air to move freely across her loins ... thighs ... lower....
Lazily, she turned her head and glanced across at Rod and Mona. Both were completely naked, with the girl's white, gleaming body stretched backward across the pillow. Lizzy could see only the side ... the profile of Mona's form. The fire made her skin glow a bright, crimson red, while Rod's darker form became an enormous, possessing force above her. Mona's buttocks rested on the cushion, forcing her into a backward curve that raised her pubis higher than the rest of her. Lying on this fulcrum, Rod was humping his hips and ass in a hard, steady rhythm. As she watched, Elizabeth saw Mona's legs spread wider, freeing themselves from the crushing weight. Her knees bent upward, and with a frantic, wrenching pull she heaved her thighs about Rod's narrow, pounding hips. The girl's feet crossed and hung together above his ass. One small, hard cone of breast slipped from between them, forced into an awkward, distended position by the weight of Rod's hard, powerful chest.
Then Bill was driving his head between Lizzy's thighs, and the sudden sensation made her close her eyes, forgetting any reality except the plunging fire that drove itself between the folds of her labia. "Oh!" she whimpered. "Oh, my God, Bill...." She collapsed totally against the heavy rug, her frantic responses shoving the pillow away from her so she lay prone and writhing beneath his unrelenting demands. Her arms first pressed flat against her sides, then bent at the elbows as she cupped her hands beneath her own trembling breasts, supporting them from the sides ... squeezing down on herself to recall a semblance of her own mortal being. Bill's persistent licking, driving, sucking movements were awakening responses she had all but forgotten. Her body felt ready to separate into some dichotomous existence.
Only half realizing what Bill was doing, Lizzy felt his mouth moving in a slow, circular arc within the confines of her steaming love-pit. Where his lips had rested front and back along her slit, they now touched to either side of the lateral extension. It didn't matter. The sensations remained as luxurious as before. Yet she knew he was repositioning himself, and finally curiosity forced her eyes to open. She saw he was kneeling beside her, his head still thrust firmly against her pubis. Slowly, his lower body continued edging toward her, one knee brushing her arm where it doubled back to grasp her breast.
Her eyes came wide open, then, as she realized he was going to straddle her, place his legs to either side of her shoulders ... bring that flopping length of cock down against her lips! She'd done it twice with Rod ... knew what it was like. But she'd never done it like this ... never while a man's lips and tongue and teeth were working on her cunt, lapping, laving, drawing on her clit ... driving the hot, wet organ within the enclosing labia....
Then he was astride her, and the flaring cockhead waved less than an inch above her face. Bill was balancing his weight on arms and elbows, making no demand upon her, allowing his prick to hang in hard suspension, raised far enough not to touch her if she did not desire the contact. He was asking, though ... begging her to take it. His heavy sac was swaying above her eyes, and the odors of his manhood ... faintly mingled with soap and cologne ... were drifting down about her, engulfing her in a fresh swell of desire. Almost without her willing it, one hand stole slowly upward, her nails tracing the hard contour of his belly. She felt the soft coarseness, his curly patch of blond ... darker than hers, thicker and more wiry. Her hand closed about the shaft and she had to force it back, pull against its springy resistance until the cockhead brushed across her lips.
She dabbled at it with her tongue, finding a single drop of fluid ... so much less than the flood she gave to him. Her lips closed above the crown, and Bill allowed his loins to drop a couple of inches, driving the shaft within the enclosure of her mouth. She laved the length of it, fastening her lips about it until he drove it down, lowering the wrinkled skin of his sac against her nose while the long, tapered wedge penetrated the depths of her mouth and throat.
She tried to concentrate on what she was doing, but the movement of his mouth about the inside of her cunt created such a wave of overpowering sensation she could think of nothing else. His tongue was buried within her vagina, and her legs moved on their own to clamp about his head ... allowing his greater penetration while the demanding hardness of his shaft dropped down her throat ... pulled back and down again ... cutting off her breath so she was forced to time her respiration to match his beat. She was aware of her own approaching climax, felt her glands release another flow of lubricating fluids as the long, facile tongue probed far inside her body.
She moaned, knowing this would alert her partner, and ground her thighs more tightly against his head. Bill's motion slowed against her labia, while his hips set up a faster, deeper rhythm, driving his cockhead further down her throat. It was choking her, strangling her ... yet creating such floods of desire she already anticipated the taste of his seed and her brain was willing him to fill her with it. His balls were falling atop her eyes and nose, forced to either side by the pressure of his groin as he drove harder and more furiously upon her. Then he resumed the penetrating motion with his tongue ... faster, faster ... and she knew he reciprocated her own stage of impending release ... that he stood with her on the brink of ecstatic fulfillment.
As if her essential being was seized and drawn out of her, she felt the flood brust free-a cascade of fluids to coat the fleshy extension within her vagina. Hardly had this begun before she heard a deep, almost pain-filled groan from Bill. His body tensed in hard-flexed suspension ... cock trembling between her lips as his salty discharge burst across her tongue. He dropped himself hard upon her, then, wrapping his arms about her ass, pulling her sideways so they lay curled together on the floor, each possessed by the other, expending their final passions into one another's mouth.
It was a long while before Elizabeth felt her body start to ease its tensions, and her rapid pulse ceased to thunder against her brain. She became aware of the music again, and the softening penis she continued to hold between her lips. Bill's tongue was moving languidly across her highly sensitive folds, creating an intense response that barely lay within her ability to sustain. He was similarly vulnerable, she realized. Each time she shifted her grip on his heavy, flaccid prick, he felt his belly muscles tighten, his groin pull back as if to free itself.
As awareness returned and her body returned to normal, she glanced about to find Rod and Mona seated on a single cushion. Side by side, they watched her. Both were smiling, still completely nude. Holding hands, they seemed happy and relaxed as they shared a cigarette. Elizabeth felt a sudden, irrational flush of embarrassment. She allowed the receding cock to fall free of her grasp and shifted her position to disengage Bill's gentle contact.
He grinned broadly at her as he rolled into a sitting position by her feet. "Wow!" he gasped. He sat there like a mischievous boy, arms about his naked knees as Mona lighted a cigarette and passed it to him. He took a long pull and passed it to Elizabeth. "Just Grade A tobacco," he replied to her questioning glance. "I don't think I'd dare give you anything else-don't think I could cut it again, not right now!"
CHAPTER FOUR
For several days after this initial encounter with Bill and Mona, Elizabeth found herself unable to explain her own reactions-to say nothing of her behavior. She had responded to this other man's touches like a wanton whore, and her body had willingly prostituted itself to his desires as if she retained no semblance of moral restraint. The Tuesday following their peculiar performance, however, she had been awakened when Rod's alarm clock went off, and through she pretended to be asleep, her mind followed his every motion as he slipped out of bed and padded on bare feet to the bathroom.
Through the closed door, she heard him pissing into the toilet, and her mind conjured the picture of his great, sleep-heavy prick. Rod had made no attempt to touch her, and it was as if the lingering essence of Bill still clung to her skin. Until she experienced the fullness of her husband's sex inside her, she knew she would feel somehow detached from him, as if she still belonged to this other man. Yet the fear remained, and more than any other emotion, she knew the same, gnawing anxiety in her guts. She wanted Rod, but trembled at the prospect of another failure.
As the rushing hiss of the shower obscured any other sounds from the bathroom, Elizabeth allowed herself to drift into contemplations of her former existence, the first time Rod had fucked her ... the thrill of that massive organ stretching its rubbery crown along the lips of her pussy ... the surge of desire, the thrill of anticipation that almost made her cry, to beg him to ram it into her and end the tingling, tickling sensations that crept along the walls of her vagina.
She remembered how slow he had been, how gently he had applied his mouth to the quivering, pulsing lips of her cunt ... driven his tongue into her, laved the slit from front to back, hanging on the clit until she thought she'd burst. Then, lying on her with his weight suspended on knees and elbows, he had gradually lowered that swollen pole into her pit, moving with the restrained regularity of a heartbeat, a tiny fraction in, half the distance back. He had driven her into such a frenzy of wild desire she had been forced to bite her lip to keep from screaming at him, commanding him to take her and skip all the nonsense of gently penetrating a virgin. God knew, she wasn't that ... hadn't been for several years.
But she loved Rod, and couldn't tell him ... couldn't say it in just so many words. Men had a way of telling these things, she supposed, though all the sex books seemed to explain a variety of ways a girl could lose her cherry without actually getting screwed. She wondered even now what Rod had thought, whether he suspected how far removed she was from the paragon of virtue he pretended to mount that night. She smiled to herself, the thought bringing that joke to mind ... the one her brother had told her when she was ... what ... fifteen? No, she'd been older than that, ready to graduate from high school.
Seventeen ... that was more like it.
She had been sitting on the sofa with her brother, Hal ... two years her senior, but always so much wiser ... much more worldly and grownup. The news program was just ending, and they watched it as they waited for the late movie. The man was talking about the queen ... Elizabeth, the Queen of England. "How 'bout that, Lizzy?" laughed Hal. "You're named for a queen! Hey, know what the queen mother said to the duke on their wedding night?" He'd grinned at her, his freckled face splitting into that enormous smile that displayed his rows of perfect teeth.
"No," she'd told him with a note of depreciating disgust. "Probably something vulgar."
"She said, 'Mount, Batten ... the hole of England lays before you!' "
"That's awful!" she said, but she'd giggled just the same, and as the picture started, one of the scenes reminded her of a story, which she told Hal at the first commercial.
After that, they'd started swapping jokes, saying things and using words they'd never spoken to one another before. They were alone, of course. Their parents were divorced, their father was God-knew-where, and their mother worked as hostess in that club. Every night, almost, they stayed alone in the apartment, each asleep in his own room. She'd thought about Hal, wondering what he did with the girls he dated, trying to imagine what it must be like for them. She'd never seen his cock, not since they were so small it didn't matter. Did he laugh when he fucked them? He always seemed to have a smile on his face ... like Bert, she mused as she anchored her fantasy to the present. Yes, like Bert. There was another sexy man ... Rod's partner, riding beside him in traffic, probably getting just as hard and horny as Rod did.
She rolled her memories back to Hal. That had been the first, that night with her own brother. She pictured the long, slender length of it, poking through the front of his robe as he leaned back on the sofa cushions, pretending to watch the movie on TV, while the hard, white pole had projected between the layers of cloth.
Their conversation had aroused him, and he'd shifted his position to bring himself closer to her. His hands were clasped behind his head, while hers rested on the sofa to either side of her. Thinking she hadn't noticed his display, he'd sighed, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. She hadn't moved, too afraid now she'd encouraged him ... wanting it, yet knowing it was wrong and more fearful, really, of what he'd think of her than of any possible consequences beyond themselves.
She hadn't moved, just sat there frozen, her eyes unable to free themselves from the fascination. Then Hal had gently placed his hand on top of hers, lifting it, setting it in his lap so her fingers grazed the cool, silky surface of his cock. He'd wrapped his fingers about hers, forcing their unresisting extension to close about the shaft, to squeeze against the hardness of its inner core. His other hand had pulled his robe open, exposing the naked surface of his midsection where the pajama jacket was already loose, and the drawstring of his pants undone. The long, fluffy hairs about his groin had been red, like the curly mop on his head. She remembered her start of surprise ... red pubic hair. She'd never thought about it ... should have expected it.
After a while, he took her into his room, and they had both slipped off their nightclothes. He had shoved her roughly onto the mattress, and with hardly any preamble he'd entered her. His fingers had made a few, clumsy passes across her cunt, and his rough palms had pressed into the softness of her inner thighs. He hadn't kissed her, except to nibble on the nipples of her teats, hurting them more than arousing her.
But her body had been more than willing. Propelled by an insatiable curiosity that rapidly turned to furious desire, she had opened her legs to him, allowed his cock to poke and prod the tender, untried passage until he rammed it home, sending waves of shock coursing through her so she almost screamed. She was momentarily paralyzed with pain, but she thought that was how it was. No one had told her it should have been pleasant and gentle, and that her being should have been allowed to respond to him of its own accord, moving at its own properly matched pace to heighten the fulfillment of them both.
Instead, Hal had driven his loins against her with a frantic, sharply syncopated cadence. His cock had slipped and plunged, striking the sides of her channel as he twisted his groin against her in what he must have presumed was a properly sensual approach. But despite his roughness and his inexperienced, hasty possession, she had started to respond. Her body had filled with warmth like hot water rising in a cup; she had engulfed him with her arms and legs as her virgin being struggled to return the passions he hammered into her.
She was still in the throes of sensation when Hal's back suddenly stiffened and he emitted a series of strangled, sobbing shrieks. "Oh, I'm coming, baby ... I'm coming! Can you feel it? Can you feel it coming in you?"
"Yes," she'd whispered. "Yes, I feel it," she'd assured him. She hadn't felt anything except the hard, throbbing fullness in her cunt and the strange, as yet unknown surge of desire that filled her belly. Her own sensuous response had been terminated by her brother's ejaculation, and the total fulfillment had been denied her. Of course she didn't know that; had no way to guess at the fantastic pleasure she'd been denied. When Hal had rolled his sweaty body off her, lying on his back beside her to catch his breath, Elizabeth had thought herself complete. She was a woman. She had given herself to a man, and she had known the feeling of his masculinity inside her. That the thrill had somehow left her wanting more she really didn't understand. It would be some time before she recognized the longing for what it was.
Rod turned off the shower, and the sudden cessation of sound brought Elizabeth's thoughts back to the present. She heard her husband drying himself, and then the grating, metallic screech as he pulled the shower curtain into place across the tub. He would be standing in front of the sink now, running warm water to lather his face. His lithe, muscular body would be glowing nakedly, warmly from the shower and his hard toweling afterward. His heavy cock would hang forward, tip grazing the porcelain sink, residual sparkles of moisture adhering to the dark, wiry mound about it.
His skin was smooth, except where hair covered his chest and belly ... and, of course, his legs. Hal had been freckled almost everywhere ... most heavily across his shoulders and on his arms. After their first time, there had been others, and as their familiarity increased, so had their lack of normal inhibitions. When they were alone in the apartment ... which was more often than not, they never bothered to close a door. Elizabeth remembered watching Hal standing naked in their bathroom, shaving in preparation for a date.
"You going to be out very late?" she'd asked him.
"Probably," he told her casually. "You got anything on?"
"No," she'd replied. "Guess I'll just hang around and watch TV."
"Want me to fix you up?" he'd asked. Funny, she'd thought. That was probably the exact tone he would have used had he been talking to another guy.
She wondered if he might not have said the exact same thing, posed the identical question to one of his horny friends, suggesting he might line him up with his sister. The cold thought grappled about her heart. She wondered if he'd told anyone about ... what they did. Wondered if he boasted to the other fellows at City College about how he'd fucked his sister ... what a good lay she was, and did any of them want to try her?
"Well, how 'bout it?" he insisted. "If we double it, we could all come back here after the show, and...."
"You mean, you'd have it all set up?"
"Sure, why not?" He'd turned to face her, his cock swinging soft and flaccid from the motion ... red hair, glistening from the shower ... like Rod's was now ... big soft cock....
Rod came out of the bathroom, going directly to the closet. He had on a pair of white shorts ... started pulling on his uniform shirt. Lizzy sighed and stretched, as if just coming awake. Her body lusted for him at that moment, her insides burning with all the fires of her past, united now into a conflagration that threatened to consume her if he didn't....
"Awake, hon?" he asked.
"Umm," she moaned. "Getting dressed already?"
"Yeah, I'm late," he said briskly. She watched him dance about on one foot, pulling the other through the pants leg. "I forgot to reset that damned clock," he continued. 'There's a meeting in the captain's office this morning, and if I don't get my ass in gear, I'm going to miss it."
He stuffed his feet into his boots, and looped a tie around his neck. Not taking the time to tie it, he stepped to the bed, brushed a kiss across Lizzy's cheek and hurried from the room. She heard his heavy tread across the living room, and the solid thump as the front door closed behind him.
"Oh, damn!" she muttered.
Her whole being seemed to throb in time to her craving need. No memory could substitute for reality ... no cock so good as Rod's, no penetration to compare with his. She kicked the sheet and blanket from her body, tilting her face forward until she felt the skin wrinkle beneath her chin. Double chin. Lion face, like a leper ... well, years before I have to worry on that score. Big, fat teats with light, blue veins marking them ... rosy nipples ... ready for him, only today he didn't have time.
Elizabeth's fingers stroked the crack between her legs, and she registered a mild surprise to feel the sticky fluid grip the tips ... oozing lust that accompanied her earlier thoughts. She closed her eyes, allowing her hands to rove her body, to touch the areas where Rod's lips should have caressed her ... places Hal had never seem to recognize as part of the parcel of man's obligation when he presented his sex to a woman.
At least his friend had been a little better ... a little more attuned to the requirements of a woman's flesh. Jim? Tim? She couldn't remember at first ... took a few moments' thought. Yes, Tim. They'd called him Tim Tyler, and Hal had joked about his "trying his luck." Tim Tyler's luck ... Try me, Tim ... take me....
Her brother had stood before her, unabashed at his nakedness, taking no pains to hide it, as if he knew the effect it had on her. Girls weren't supposed to respond to visual stimuli. Some stupid sex book had told her that. Men liked to look at dirty pictures, read erotic stories because it turned them on, inflamed their passions. Such things had little effect on a woman. Brother, I could tell him something there. True, I never bothered looking at fuck pictures or reading sexy stories. But when I looked at Hal, remembered the feel of that cock of his inside me....
"Is he a nice guy?" she'd asked.
"Who?"
"The guy ... the friend of yours you've got me lined up with?"
"Oh, I don't have you lined up ... Oh, hey ... Lizzy, I haven't said anything," he assured her. "Is that what you're worried about? Shit, I'm not going to tell anybody about screwing my own sister! They'd think I was perverted, or something!"
She shrugged. "Well, you must have had someone in mind," she suggested. "Sure, Timmy," he said.
"Is he nice?" She repeated her former question more forcefully, her mind rejecting the implications of her brother's remark. It's okay for a boy to do almost anything he wants. If a girl does it, she's a slut ... and easy make ... a pig. But if you do something so bad even the boy doesn't want to admit it....
"Sure he's nice," said Hal. "He's tall, and all the girls seem to like him. And he's got a big prick; what more can you ask?"
"That's not ... How do you know?" she demanded.
"How do I know what? That he's good-looking?" He was teasing her, but his remark had rankled just a little deeper than the one before.
"No, I mean about his ... his prick! How do you know how big it is?"
"I've doubled with him before," said Hal smugly.
"And you watched?" she taunted him.
"Shit! Guys always look at each other. I've seen him in gym, and he's hung. You oughtta like it, sis. You like mine, and he's got about twice as much."
Blushing, Elizabeth gave up the exchange, surrendered to her brother's superior vulgarity. And Tim had proved everything Hal had claimed for him. Tall and blond, he had topped her brother by half a head, and when he held her to dance, she was aware of the muscle-hardness of his chest and belly, the swelling readiness curled within his shorts. He had purposely rubbed his groin against her sex, driving her nearly wild on the dance floor and awakening the floods of desire long before they finally left.
The other girl ... Hal's date, was a stupid, pretty thing with long dark hair. A hippie, before hippies were the vogue, her small, compact little boy displayed its sexy curves despite the loose, low-necked peasant blouse and the flowered, cotton skirt. Her clothes were cheap and gaudy, and she wore too much makeup for a teenager ... all that goop about her eyes, and long false lashes. But her lips were colored barely darker than their normal pink. This, plus the long, straight hair had made Elizabeth's memory of her reminiscent of what one saw along the Strip.
She had obviously been with Hal before, and she made no protest when it was suggested they all go back to the apartment for a drink. They arrived a little before midnight, which meant they had at least three hours before Mother could possibly arrive. Usually, it would be even longer ... three-thirty or better before she finished her duties at the club and returned home to sleep. Wonder if she did anything else? Wonder if she had a boy friend ... wonder if some man was fucking her at his apartment, because Mother couldn't bring him home where her kids might hear ... might be corrupted by her bad example. If she only knew! So gray-haired and straight-laced and dignified today ... wonder what she did when she was younger? All that proper upbringing before the divorce, and afterward how she hated what she had to do for a living!
Once in the apartment, the boys did not waste any time in making their wishes plain. Nor did the girls protest. Elizabeth had expected she would take Tim to her room, while Hal retired to his own with Margie. Instead, they all moved as if by previous agreement-maybe it was by prearrangement-to her brother's room, where Hal's double bed lay stripped to its lower sheet, waiting for them.
Tim had kissed her in the living room, felt her up through her clothing, and shoved the fullness of his groin against her. Now, however, he simply started peeling off his clothes, glancing at her when she stood watching him, surprise and uncertainty freezing her in place. "Come on, baby," he mumbled. "Get ready so I can give you what you want. You want it, don't you?" he'd taunted her. He slipped his pants down and hefted his powerful organ upon the palm of his hand. It was larger than Hal's, and already half hard. Even in the shadowy darkness Elizabeth could see its deeper, darker hue, the sheath of foreskin that half concealed its head.
She felt a wave of dizziness, vertigo that resulted from her emotional response, her desire to feel it in her. Quickly, she slipped out of her dress, fumbling with the fastener at the back of her bra, embarrassed to note that Margie wore no girdle, and unhappy at the red, unattractive lines the elastic had left about her waist and thighs. She unfastened her stockings, pulling them inside out as she drew them down her legs, not bothering to roll them as Mother had taught her, always insisted she do. Well, Mother wouldn't be very happy about the other things I'm about to do, either!
Tim was naked, waiting for her, standing tall and straight, his massive penis extending in front of him like a flagpole on some downtown office building. Elizabeth had rubbed her sweating palms across her hips, taking a measure of confidence from their rounded firmness. She felt the tingling within her cunt that warned of her arousal, reciprocated the lust that sprouted in rigid proclamation from the blond-white patch at Timmy's groin.
He took her in his arm, his prick sliding across her belly to assume an upright position between them. He was so tall, her hot, steaming box was pressed into the concave trench formed by his thighs. His bulging sac shoved into her pubic hairs, the cool surface of his body surrounding her, turning warm ... warmer as he crushed her against him. Her face was held flat against the bony center of his chest, one ear pushed upon the outward curve of muscle so it formed a tiny suction, broken when he grasped her face, tilted it up to meet his own ... kissed her, shoved his tongue between her teeth and probed the inside of her mouth.
Behind him she heard the groan of bedsprings as Hal pulled Margie down and straddled her, already prodding with his cock to find the hole. Tim eased her onto the mattress beside them, his larger, heavier body covering her almost completely ... almost, she remembered thinking ... almost, except where his slender hips were not as wide as hers, and where his long, smooth legs pressed hers apart and her thighs lay to either side of him.
She felt his powerful cock sliding against her belly, still between them as he made the motions ... rubbed upon her, taking his time. The bed was already vibrating from the driving strokes of her brother pounding his lust into the other girl. Elizabeth heard her groan, beg him to slow down, give her time to catch up.
Tim raised his face from hers, smiled at her when she opened her eyes. Then he twisted with an animal growl, sinking his teeth gently into the soft flesh of her teats, sucking on them .and pulling so hard he stretched them out and made her feel the pull of their roots within the flesh that bound them to her. His hands were in her cunt, gently playing with her, tracing the line of her labia until the skin folded back and his nails grazed the tender, inner surface. He lifted his body, kneeling between her legs, and for a moment she thought he was going to shove his face into the opening. It was something she'd never thought about before, though such things had been mentioned in books. The idea had seemed terrible to her, reading it in print. Yet now, confronted by the possibility, she wished he would. Her loins twitched, forcing her pussy to touch one of his thighs just above the knee. It sent a fresh, electric wave through her guts, but failed to precipitate the response her mind had conjured.
Instead, Tim threw himself on top of her, dropping his weight against her so he knocked the breath from her lungs as his fingers probed the hole, and he lifted his ass so his prick dropped between her legs. He guided the swollen glans against her vagina, leaving his fingers beside the opening until his cock had started to enter her. She felt his hand slide across her loins, the steady, slow descent of his shaft sinking into her. For a moment there was pain, as her body stretched to accommodate this greater bulk. Thank God he didn't do like Hal. Jesus, he'd have split me open!
Slowly, unrelentingly, Tim's full manhood slipped into her, and just as gradually her body opened to receive him. She felt the tip lodge more deeply than Hal had done, and felt some inner tingling that told her he had penetrated to the farthest end of her channel. The thought of this released another flood of fluids, and Tim must have felt it because it triggered a series of long, deeply drawn strokes that drove the fullness of his prick in and out ... in and out ... slowly, without the hurried fury of her brother. This was different. It was fuller and deeper, to be sure. But more than this, it was slow enough that her organs had time to answer him, to react with the total sensation of woman penetrated by man.
Gradually, Tim picked up his pace, slowing, speeding up, hesitating, then ramming hard and furiously. He drew his cock nearly all the way out of her, then dropped it back ... slamming his loins against her pubis, so this added contact summated with the plunging fullness to bring about a new and total feeling from her. He kissed her, chewed at her neck while he fucked her. His breath was a deeper rattle, and his thrusting pace was hard and furious. Still, there was no urgency, and she felt the restraint as he refused to relinquish control, denied himself so she could answer him and follow his ascending satisfaction with her own, answering waves of fulfillment.
Finally, it was obvious he was close. His deep, hard-driven strokes were holding, pressing far inside her as he wrapped his arms more tightly about her torso. "Getting there, baby?" he whispered in her ear. "You close yet?"
She wasn't sure exactly what he meant, but she nodded. "Yes," she told him. "Oh, God, yes!"
"Okay, then. Let it come," he muttered through tight-clenched jaws. "I'm going to give it to your, baby! Come with me; come with me!"
She felt his hips raise above her once again, the slamming thrust as he rammed himself into her, back again, slowly out, rushing back to drive her flesh wide open by the full, heavy mass of his cock. She closed her eyes as he caused a new and previously unknown ... unsuspected swelling within her. She couldn't imagine any feeling so intense, any thrill that compared to that which burned and whirled within her now.
Without thinking about what she did, she lifted her pubis to meet his every downward drive, doubling the force which impacted against her, feeling the sensations course along her skin, meeting those that welled forth from her cunt. She heard him gasping in the final second before he came, and she saw the myriad colors of her own release ... lights and fragments that shattered behind her eyelids, felt the gushing flow that seemed to twist her inside out, made her scream and moan and wrench her body up against him.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sweat ran off Elizabeth's body as her mind traveled back through time, and her organs recalled these earlier uses. That first orgasm had been so grand! It had opened the doors, so to speak; had demonstrated for her the truer, fuller meaning of her sexuality. What she had known with Hal had been pleasant. With Tim it had been delirious, wonderful to a point where she could not explain it to herself. It was the type of fleshly bliss that only her body could know. Her mind could never hope to recreate it in words; even the memory was less, dulled by time and by the experiences that followed it.
Twice more she had gone with Tim, and both times he had brought her to a total expression. She remembered how she'd lusted after him, how her body had craved him when he wasn't there. She loved him, or thought she did, and that had been the final undoing ... the folly which had deprived her of his attentions. That last night ... alone on a blanket beside his car, parked somewhere in the hills where the blinking lights of the city spread out beneath them. He had taken her there on the ground, held her down and fucked her for seeming hours, while she reached the ultimate point and cried out to him, only to have him stop, slow down until both of them had dropped back to a lower level of sensation.
Then he'd start again, driving his big, full cock into her, exciting her beyond the realm of control ... and stop again before she could come. At last, when he brought her to the final point and this time carried her across ... when she knew he was going to permit her body its unrestrained expression, she had gasped the truth into his ear. "I love you," she'd groaned. "Oh, God! Timmy, I love you so much!"
He hadn't paused, had never slowed his driving pace inside her. But once they finished and pulled apart, lying in panting exhaustion side by side, she had whispered the words again, touching his ear with her lips and speaking so softly her voice was like a rustling of insect wings against him.
He didn't answer her, never spoke to assure her he returned the feeling she knew must lie within him. It never occurred to her he might not feel the same, that the glorious exchange they shared did not inflame the identical set of desires in him. She wanted their relationship to last forever, and to her there was no alternative, no possibility for this perfection to be less than right and everlasting.
Tim never answered her that night. In fact, she never saw him again except for two instances when they happened to pass on the street. The first time she rushed up to him, joy bubbling on her lips. "I was afraid you'd been sick!" she blurted.
"Sick? Why?" asked Tim coolly.
"Well ... well, I hadn't heard from you," she stammered. "I mean, I thought...."
"I've just been busy," he said brusquely. He turned and started to walk around her.
"I wish you'd call me ... some time," she said to his receding back.
"Yeah, some time," he called over his shoulder.
The second accidental meeting had been almost a month later, and this time Elizabeth only glanced at him. He saw her, but made no move to speak. She looked at her feet and hurried past him, while Tim continued on his way ... out of her sight, out of her life.
After that, Hal had tried to make it with her a few more times, but after Tim, she couldn't stand the feel of her brother's flesh upon her. She had planned to go to college, but money was short and it would have meant a further burden on their mother. Instead, she enrolled in the airline school as soon as she was eighteen, and from there ... What they don't teach you in stewardess school is the only thing you really need to know! But that comes naturally ... to some of us....
She remembered the first party she'd given with the two girls who shared the Chicago apartment. Gladys and Florence ... two such innocent-sounding names! Both of them so hot-to-trot it was impossible not to go along with them. Whores, really. That's all they were ... high class whores ... making it with well-heeled businessmen ... guys with balding domes and fat bellies, probably with a wife and half-grown kids at home. These were the men who'd give them fine little gifts, money, too ... sometimes....
She smiled as she recalled the shocked expressions on her friends' faces, the scorn and disdain they had openly heaped upon her because she hadn't played the game. The party had started at eight on a Saturday night, and Elizabeth was already tired from the flight. She had been unable to take a nap as the others had, because sleep just didn't seem to come. She was anxious and excited, wondering who her friends had asked. She had not thought about entertaining, so had not extended any invitations on her own. There had been a couple of good-looking guys on the plane ... one of whom was single, a salesman for a western toy manufacturer. She knew he'd be in Chicago on his own, had intimated as much when she spoke to him. But he'd been afraid to ask her outright for a date, and they had parted without exchanging numbers.
There was no way to call him now, she knew, so whatever men her friends had asked would have to provide her evening's entertainment. Well, both of them were attractive enough to have a good following. She had trembled with anticipation, her expectations ill-concealed by the facade of quiet indifference.
Then the guests had arrived, and she quickly saw what the other girls were doing. There were four other stewardesses, and there had been seven men invited to fill out the even number of couples. Only two of the guests had brought friends, causing an uneven balance which made little difference in the early part of the evening. One man attracted Elizabeth's eye immediately: a short, well-built fellow who was not much older than she. His name was Phil, and he was an unmarried cousin of a bald, heavy-set man whom Gladys seized upon as soon as he was in the door.
Several of the other men made it obvious they were interested, but Elizabeth stayed by Phil's side most of the evening. When she went into the kitchen to help make some sandwiches, Florence cornered her. "That kid's a clerk in some department store," she hissed. "Can't you see Danny drooling over you? He's worth half a fall wardrobe, if you play your cards right."
"He's skinny and old enough to be my grandfather," replied Elizabeth.
Florence shook her head. "So what?" she insisted.
"Look, you play the game the way you want, and I'll do the same," she'd told her friend.
And while the night with Phil had not resulted in financial reward, it had been an experience Ellizabeth could never forget. When the party broke up, the young man had asked her, almost fearfully, if she'd like to "come up to my place for a nightcap?"
Afraid if she seemed hesitant she might scare him off, she surprised him by accepting immediately. They left while half a dozen guests remained in the living room, and Elizabeth saw the disgusted expressions on the faces of several girls. Too hell with them! It's my life, and if I don't happen to sell it, that's my business!
Phil lived in a small, walk-up apartment, not far from the Loop. It was far from elegant, but clean and neat. He pulled down a wall-bed, blushing as he did so. Elizabeth expected he would be inexperienced, because he seemed so bashful. Instead, he proved a great revelation ... certainly taught me something that night!
He offered her a B-&-B, barely giving her time to take the first sip before he knelt before her, pressing his chest against her knees. Elizabeth had perched on a corner of the bed, as this became the dominant piece of furniture in the room once it was pulled down. Already a little drunk from all the liquor at the party, she perceived his surprisingly skillful advances through a pleasant haze. Her present mood combined lassitude and desire, a lesser stage of the same condition she would later experience with marijuana.
Phil's wide, stubby hands caressed her calves and knees, eventually finding their way into the dark warmth beneath her skirt. This was the era just prior to the miniskirt, so Elizabeth was wearing sheer, seamless stockings that connected to a garter belt. Deftly, Phil's hands worked the fasteners until both nylon sheaths were loose. He rose quickly, gracefully to his feet and reached across to extinguish the lamp. Then he resumed his place, his broad, muscular torso wedged between her knees.
In the darkness, he lifted her skirt, applying his lips to her naked thighs as he slowly rolled the stockings down her legs. He moved slowly, wetly across her skin, each contact of his lips sending fresh waves of tantalizing sensation through her. He laved the kneecaps, and continued down her lower legs, exciting sensations from areas of her body where she had never known it was possible to stimulate a sensual response. When the coverings were completely gone, he remained on his knees before her, sucking at her toes, bathing her feet in the desperate, heated moisture from lips and tongue.
Elizabeth slipped lower on the bed, unable to control the wild desire he forced to take possession of her flesh. Her legs stretched out before her, and she finally collapsed across the mattress. Phil undressed her completely, at one point rolling her onto her belly so he could reach the fasteners at her back, lifting her hips to pull the slip and panties down her legs. Elizabeth remained completely passive, sensing he wished this, and reveling in the pleasure it gave her to be commanded in this assured, unspoken domination.
When she was completely nude, Phil stood up, gazing down at her, grinning in the darkness. His body was outlined by the glow from the shaded window, while the same light cast a subtle, feeble gleam across Elizabeth's full, succulent body. "Beautiful, Lizzy ... beautiful," whispered Phil. Moving with the same quick, cat-like grace he had maintained since entering the room, he stripped the clothes from his own body, revealing a hard, stocky build ... extremely well-developed muscles, all covered with a thick mat of chestnut-colored hair. As Elizabeth watched him, the back-lighting made the soft-hued fur stand out around him like a halo, seeming to emphasize the size and power of his physique.
She was more than ready for him, trembling inwardly at the prospect of being possessed by him, her body craving the feel of this hard, taut weight upon it. Instead, Phil went once more onto his knees, lowering his groin and the wide, blunt cylinder of his rigid penis below the edge of mattress. Elizabeth experienced a momentary disappointment at being denied the fulfillment, the thrill her body craved. But this emotion was short-lived. Resuming his previous motions about her thighs, Phil applied his lips against her skin, sucking at the smooth, inner surfaces of her thighs, drawing large areas of flesh into his mouth, laving, gnawing gently at it until he felt her twisting in involuntary response to the rush of feeling he created.
Then he worked upward, running the wetness of his tongue about the edges of her pussy, probing inside the slit from time to time, always retreating so it left her flesh tingling for more, craving a greater application of pressure and penetration. Inside her, a creeping discharge trickled across the tense, highly inflamed tissues of her vagina, causing a desperate expectation ... a fierce desire for contact with the roving tongue that might extinguish the cloying tickle.
At length, he pressed his face full against her cunt-tongue, lips, teeth, even his nose moving with frantic passion against the unresisting folds of labia. He licked away the oozing fluids, seized the throbbing clit and worked it ... milked it, kneaded it with his lips like a boy might masturbate his unripened penis.
When the ever-moving probe finally poked about the vaginal entrance, teasing her, threatening to enter yet always retreating at the final moment, she reared her pubis against him, driving her sex-box full against him. "Please," she gasped. "Oh, God, Phil ... please!"
Chuckling softly, he answered her by driving his tongue deeply into her. He made her quake and wriggle, just short of orgasm, as he ran the pointed curve of his tongue around the inside of her channel, exciting every nerve-ending, every millimeter of responding membrane.
When at last he stopped, crawling up to lay against her, it was almost an anti-climax. He kissed her lips, her teats, ran his mouth about her throat and shoulders, while his short, thick cock slipped inside the well-prepared passage. It stretched her, filling the outer portions of her love-tunnel. She was so aroused he had barely time to reach his own height of desire before her body exploded against him, drenching the hard-driven penis with her fluids.
Afterward, Phil had lain on top of her, cock still hard and firmly joining them. Neither moved, nor felt any wish to break the contact. They almost fell asleep before he finally rolled away, leaving Elizabeth completely spent, realizing she had been treated to a new and ultimately satisfying innovation. The other girls might make the scene for gifts and material profit. She had garnered more than any of them. She had found a new secret, a new key to unlock the heretofore unsuspected potentials of her body.
The image of Phil faded from Elizabeth's memory, and she realized she had excited herself to a point where her cunt was throbbing with desire. She could feel the heavy, beating pulse at the sides of her groin, and she groaned in frustrated misery that it must go unrequited. For a moment, she toyed with the idea of masturbating, of bringing herself across the border to a total, physical release. No! Can't do that. When Rod comes home tonight, I'll give him everything, respond to him as I haven't done since the first time. I can do it now. I know I can do it!
CHAPTER SIX
True to her own expectations, Elizabeth experienced a gradually improved relationship with Rod. She was still not capable of her former, full expression in the very beginning, but as time passed she became more and more a dynamo of sexual force and energy. It soon became very clear that the experiment with group sex had been successful.
When their friendship with Bill and Mona continued beyond this point, Elizabeth questioned her own motivations, but otherwise remained docile and agreeable. Less than a month had passed, and with it the worst of her sexual problems. Yet, she and Rod continued to see the other couple nearly every weekend, and sometime in between. To Elizabeth it was a somewhat illogical association. She liked Mona, found her charming and uncomplicated ... wise in certain ways of life to which Elizabeth had had only fleeting exposure.
On the other hand, Mona was twenty-one, a bare three years younger than Elizabeth ... but somehow so lacking in sophistication when it came to the womanly problems of day-to-day living it was difficult to communicate with her.
It was the men who got along like lifetime buddies. The women were thrown into one another's company as a result of this, and were forced to find areas of common interest or experience. The sex just seemed to become an integral part of it all, and in this Elizabeth was as much motivated as any of the others. In the same way as she had developed a liking for pot-where it had previously been something never tried, hence never missed-so she came to find an inexplicable lust for sex with Bill. In many ways Rod was the better partner ... certainly better built and more considerate. Still, the idea of taking Bill's lengthy, demanding organ into her body kept Elizabeth always willing, always ready.
It may have been this perverse sexual attraction that prevented Elizabeth from voicing any objection to their frequent meetings-even those where sex was not involved. Without really knowing why, she found herself encouraging Rod's mutual interests with Bill.
From Rod's standpoint it was a situation without negatives. He liked and admired Bill, and attributed the awakening of many dormant impulses within Elizabeth to him. His wife now responded to his touch as she hadn't been able to do for months. But more than anything else, it was the common interest of the two men in motorcycles that formed the basis for their continued friendship. Bill and Mona didn't even own car. They went everywhere on the Triumph, and frequently spent a weekend in the country, camping out overnight in some deserted area. They had very little money, though both of them worked. At least, Mona worked at a regular secretarial job, while Bill tried to get his first real break as an actor or musician. He picked up an occasional bit part or one-night stand with a little combo. What he hoped for was a part in a good TV commercial, where he would get residuals that could tide them through his waiting period. So far, he hadn't gotten it.
Despite their monetary restrictions, they were happy and far less concerned about money matters than Elizabeth and Rod. Their tastes were simple, and except for their occasional outside sex activities, they were a satisfied, devoted couple. Interested in the peace and freedom bit, they were not the activists their clothes and grooming might suggest. In Bill, particularly, there was an inbred aggressiveness that was not in keeping with the more pacifist views of the true hippie. He sometimes allowed these tendencies to manifest themselves in sex.
He had made the scene with Elizabeth several times before she became aware of these. Even then, she sensed rather than actually experienced his tendency to force his demands to the very limits of his partner's tolerance. And this was largely due to Elizabeth's willingness. Whatever he wanted, she was perfectly happy to do. It was a wantonness she had never known before ... had never suspected lay within her. As their first session had implied, Bill was driven by a lust that subverted his more tender expression. Beneath the easy coolness of his innocent facade, Elizabeth recognized a core of rugged restlessness she could not define or describe. But it was an element that found its counterpart in herself. Nebulous as these feelings were, they were real. She knew it and so did Bill.
Now, with the lifting of the depressive phobia that had weighed upon her for so long, Elizabeth allowed herself to be carried along with the others' plans. She did not object, even when it was suggested they make a weekend trip into the desert. It was still early enough in the year that the daytime heat was moderate, and the nights were mild enough not to be uncomfortable. The public schools would still be in session for another couple of weeks, which meant no flocks of summer tourists would yet be swarming over the campgrounds. Eagerly, the men planned to take advantage of the situation. Mona agreed enthusiastically, and her pleasureable anticipation infected Elizabeth.
"Whithersoever thou goest...." she sighed.
So it was all arranged. They would leave on a Friday afternoon, which would allow them two nights in the wilds. Rod arranged a shift off to accommodate their plans, and Mona called in sick that morning. Bill said he knew of a fabulous campsite, near a small stream. "It'll dry up during the summer," he told them, "but right now there'll be plenty of pure, cold water from the melted snow. Wow, you've never tasted anything like it!"
As she climbed onto the motorcycle in back of Rod, Elizabeth knew some of her old fears. She really hated the uncertain feeling it gave her to balance over the rear wheel, knowing there was nothing between her and the blur of pavement. It would be a long ride, and sandwiched as she was-against her husband's leather-clad back and the pile of camping equipment tied behind her-she would not even be able to shift her position. Her spine felt stiff already.
"All set?" called Rod, shouting above the roaring engine.
"As ready as I'll ever be," she mumbled against his ear.
He reached back and patted her thigh where it lay against his hip. "Cheer up, doll," he shouted. "Bill's campsite sounds great! It'll be worth the misery."
And it Was. There were two stone fireplaces maintained by the Parks Department, but they had the entire area to themselves. Perched on a ledge about a hundred feet above the valley floor, they looked out across a broad expanse of sandy desert. They had arrived just before sunset, and by the time the blinding glory of reds and yellows began fading from the thousands of tiny, fluffy clouds, they were settled in and had a blazing fire in one of the open hearths. The sky darkened very quickly, with purple shadows expanding across the waves of blown sand, while the first stars began to sparkle through a deepening curve of sky.
It was romantic, Elizabeth had to admit. Nor was she as stiff as she had thought she'd be. The others were all so efficient in setting up camp there was little for her to do. Trying to be helpful, she wandered about the area, gathering what wood she could find and stacking it near the fire. Their campsite was set in a cluster of elm and aspens, which Bill explained had been planted by the Rangers. "Nothing's native to this part of the country," he said, "except cactus and Joshua trees."
"And sage and mesquite and tumbleweeds," added Mona.
"Them ain't trees," said Bill laughing. He'd clapped his hand across her butt, and gone about unpacking the bedrolls and canvas sacks of food. He was completely happy, and so was Rod. There were like a pair of Boy Scouts on an outing. Well, so much the better, she told herself. It's about time Rod had some fun, and I'll be damned if I'm going to be a fly-in-the-ointment. I'm going to see he has the best weekend since our ... She'd almost said "honeymoon." But to have her husband shacked up with another woman, while she was being fucked by Bill ... Somehow, it seemed irreverent to compare this weekend with a memory she held almost sacred.
Regardless of her ambivalent thoughts, the wild natural beauty of her surroundings lent a certain clean and strangely proper air to this, as well. Nothing really wrong with it, she told herself. Whose business is it but ours, anyway?
They sat around the fire to eat, while a light, warm breeze wafted through the glade of trees. A few yards below the camp, a stream plunged down the slope, gurgling and splashing over myriad rocks, finally falling into a miniature lake at the bottom.
"Tomorrow, we'll have to climb down and see what kind of animals have hatched out," said Bill. "Lots of times there're all sorts of little crabs, or shrimp appear from ... from just nothing."
He spoke casually, always about some neutral subject. But his eyes seldom strayed from Elizabeth's face and bosom. She was aware of it, though no one else seemed to notice. Just then, Bill was half lying on the ground, his back propped against a log ... legs spread wide and showing off his virility in a most disturbing way. Both men were wearing Levi's, but Rod's were fairly new; Bill's were old and faded, softened by many washings and decidedly tight across his hips and ass ... to say nothing of his crotch. Mona was dressed in jeans, as well-baggy, shapeless things that did little to show off her slender, graceful body. Only Elizabeth had dressed in somewhat normal fashion. She hated wearing pants, and once off the motorcycle she had gone behind some bushes and changed into a cotton skirt and blouse.
"How do you like being out in the wilds?" asked Bill suddenly.
Elizabeth had not expected the question, though it was a natural enough thing to ask. Still, there was a peculiar ring to his tone that put her on guard. "I ... I guess it's ... fine," she replied uncertainly. "This is a lovely spot," she added quickly.
Bill's hand rested nonchalantly against the bulge of his sex, and his light gray eyes seemed to impale her ... hole her like a snake might hypnotize a bird. "It sometimes brings out the things we keep ... hidden-being out in the open, without a lot of people around...." His voice trailed off, and Elizabeth was definitely puzzled ... puzzled and more than a little disturbed. What is he trying to say? Does he have some crazy idea of running through the woods in the buff ... playing tag like a bunch of nymphs and satyrs?
"If you've got something on your mind, big boy, you'd better spill it," she blustered. It was her Mae West voice coming out again, and she tried to sound as if she were prepared to banter with him. She refused to admit he was beginning to unnerve her ... took great pains not to let it show.
Without another word, Bill got up and went to a bundle that was still rolled, tied with rawhide thongs. Elizabeth glanced about at her other companions. Rod was watching Bill with a totally blank expression, obviously no better advised than she. Mona, however, was eagerly anticipating whatever her husband was about to reveal. She sat atop a large, round section of log, hands at her sides, palms pressed against the bark. Her dark eyes gleamed brightly in the reflected, reddish glow of the fire. It had gotten completely dark by then, especially under the trees. The burgeoning spring foliage on the boughs above them was enough to obscure the feeble, silvery light of the stars. The moon had not yet risen, so their only source of illumination was the glowing bed of coals in the fireplace.
Bill extracted several items, but because his back was to her, Elizabeth could not see what they were. Rod was several feet to her left, and from his angle of vision he could apparently make out what the other man was holding. His face twisted into a half-formed grin, and his head shook slightly as if expressing a combination of mild amusement and partial disapproval.
"Don't keep us in suspense," said Elizabeth at length.
Bill turned to face her, holding a pair of leather pants against himself. Only they weren't exactly pants. "Chaps," he announced. "Ever see 'em before?"
"No," she replied honestly. "Except in cowboy movies ... only these don't look quite the same."
"They're not," said Bill seriously. He walked across to her. "Here, feel them," he said. He held the black leather garment out to her, and Elizabeth fondled the smooth, pliable surface. She looked up at Bill with a questioning expression.
"He has some other things, too," said Mona. She hopped down from her perch and went to the bundle of clothing.
He wears that, but his partner...." She held up several smaller pieces of attire, also made of the same, black leather. "You'd look great in these, Lizzy," she added.
What Mona now brought to her was the strangest collection of garments Elizabeth had ever seen. There was a bra-actually a fairly wide harness to enclose the torso, but with openings to permit the breasts to hang completely free. The band of black leather would bind across her chest and back, offering no actual support. There were leggings, also of skin-smooth leather-rather like a pair of pantyhose, except the leg portion started at the ankles and ended below the crotch. From here, they connected to the waistband by a pair of wide leather straps. Lady's version of Bill's chaps, she thought. More than this, her mind was momentarily unable to form.
The final item Mona showed her was a pair of gloves ... quite ordinary black kid, except they also seemed made to fulfill a fetish. They were excessively long, and would reach clear to the elbow. Elizabeth didn't know whether to laugh or run to Rod for protection. She had heard of such thing, but thought they went with whips and spiked heels. Then her heart seemed to swell until it threatened to choke her. Whips! Jesus God, maybe they are a pair of sadists!
Her fear, or at least her uncertainty must have shown in her eyes. Bill laughed and patted her gently on the arm.
"Nothing to get up-tight about, Lizzy," he said. "It's just a real groovy feel ... leather. You know, like they say: 'if you haven't tried it ... ' "
"And out in the open," Mona chimed in, "it's the most! It can be a little warm to wear that stuff inside a house. Out here ... wow!"
Elizabeth looked across at Rod, who had gotten up and was standing in back of the other two. He still retained a semblance of his grin, but she could also see an intent, interested glint in his eyes. Her heart sank. If he dug the idea, too, it would place her in an awkward position to refuse. But I don't know if I really want to refuse! That's the most disturbing element in the whole scene! The idea is appealing, except I'm embarrassed to admit it. Oh, hell! Why should I be bashful to do anything in front of these people? There isn't much I haven't done with the, and as long as they don't actually pull out the whips and ... and whatever else goes with them ... why not?
"Are you game?" asked Bill.
Elizabeth shrugged, watching Rod for some sign of encouragement or disapproval. He merely returned her gesture. "Whatever turns you on," he said lightly.
So, the decision rested with her. She could refuse and maybe have all three of them unhappy with her ... maybe leave her unhappy herself, because she'd always wonder what it was she'd missed. "Well," she replied hesitantly, "I don't know what I'm getting myself into ... what to say. It's ... it's just something I've never even thought about."
"Try it," urged Mona.
"If I do ... ah, if I do ... what about you and ... and Rod?" she asked. The idea that both these others would sit by and watch made goosebumps form along her arms and back.
"Oh, Mona and I will find something to keep us busy," said Rod. "Go ahead and try it. We won't peek ... honest."
Now she did feel silly. Of course they'd be curious and want to see what happened between her and Bill. As long as it was a casual observation it wouldn't make any difference. It was just the idea of their ... maybe sitting on the sidelines, like she was an actress on a stage-or a contestant in a ring whom they were rooting for ... that's what she didn't want. "Okay," she agreed finally. "Show me what to do."
Bill grasped her arms and gave her a quick kiss on the Ups. "That's it!" he said happily. Then, sensing her conflict, he turned to Rod and Mona. "You two go do your thing; Lizzy and I'll explore the esoteric unknown ... by ourselves."
He went to the bed rolls and got a couple of blankets. Rod watched him for a moment, then did the same, placing his on a spot of ground a little distance away. Watching these preparations, Elizabeth felt another pang of anxiety. "What about the Ranger?" she asked. "Isn't he apt to come by?"
"Never has," Bill assured her. "Besides, he'd have to drive all the way up that road over there...." He pointed to the winding trail they had followed to reach the campsite. "We'd see his headlights fifteen or twenty minutes before he got here."
"Unless we're too busy to notice," she nodded cryptically.
Bill shrugged. He had the blankets spread on the ground, and without any further hesitation he started removing his clothes. Slowly, Elizabeth followed his example, noting that her husband and Mona were already settled on their own blankets, not paying any particular attention to her or Bill. Standing opposite her, body outlined by the glowing embers, his display of virile masculinity made her swallow hard. Despite some residual reservations, she began to feel the waves of excitement building up within her. Already, a tiny flow of moisture seeped between her legs. She removed her bra and immediately felt a warm, gentle movement of air across her bosom. It was surprisingly stimulating, she realized; this exotic exposure was definitely furthering the heretofore unknown compulsions building up inside her.
Bill was standing on the edge of the blanket, legs widespread, his heavy penis hanging soft, but full and ready. As she looked at him, he offered a smile of encouragement, as yet making no move to approach her. Carefully, she slipped off her final article of clothing, trying to take a quick, unobtrusive swipe at the damp lips of her pussy as she did so. She faced him across the rectangular surface, now naked as he was. While she might have been loath to admit it, her excitement at the idea of what they were about to do was almost overpowering.
Bill's cock began to lengthen as he bent down to get the chaps. He motioned to the pile of garments Mona had left beside her, as he proceeded to pull the leather coverings over his legs. Elizabeth picked up the halter, placed it around herself, carefully working her full, heavy breasts through the holes. As she fastened it behind her, she looked down at herself and felt a flush of erotic pleasure. Her teats-well formed and solid-were great conical repositories of sensual expectancy. Dark tipped, the rest of their heavy bulk showed almost white against the black leather. The cut-out circles pressed against the base of each, making her more than usually aware of their size and pleasing configuration.
She looked back at Bill then, who had just fastened his chaps in place. They completely covered his legs, and fit like regular hip-huggers, coming up to form the usual circle about his waist. However, his groin was fully exposed, as were the cheeks of his ass. His prong stood fully erect, seeming to beckon at her, impatient for the impending contact. She reached for the leggings and quickly pulled them on. The soft leather molded itself to her contours and clung with a definitely sensual snugness. She hesitated with the gloves, looking at Bill. He had slipped into his motorcycle jacket, leaving it open in front with all its loops and straps unfastened, dangling. When he moved, the heavy material creaked with a decidedly leathery sound ... masculine, stimulating.
"Skip the gloves, if you like," he said softly. She placed them back on the tree trunk. "Now come here." His voice was soft but firm, and Elizabeth obeyed. The harness about her chest made her breasts sway in a peculiarly arousing manner. Restricted about the base, they moved with a fluid freedom she could never have felt without the leather. Added to this was the constant slapping motion of their undersides against the platten, as they undulated in response to her natural movements.
But the feel of leather about her own body was minimal, compared with her wildly erotic response to Bill's enfolding embrace. His coverings, especially the chaps, were warm from the heat of his body. This gave the leather a certain quality of animation it could not otherwise possess. Where both of them were covered-their legs, for instance-she felt an additional element of arousal from the slippery, smooth passage of one body across the other. Pressure and warmth were sensed through the restrictive covering which otherwise limited his touch. And this limitation added a sensual tingle of its own. Unique-completely different from anything she had known before, Elizabeth found herself responding to it with a fire that seemed to stem from some forgotten, primeval origin.
Their mouths locked in the fury of sheer, animal lust.
Bill's open jacket enfolded her, sliding against the band of leather that bound her torso. Her teats, projecting like twin peaks of fiery voluption, tried to flatten themselves against his flesh. Driven back by his solid wall of muscle, they rested in ecstatic contact with the leather that separated them from the rest of her body. "Wild, baby ... wild!" gasped Bill.
His lips had come free of hers, moving now onto Elizabeth's neck and across her shoulders. They had been standing in the center of the blanket, until her knees began to weaken, trembling from her excitement. She fastened her arms about Bill's neck, beginning to weigh him down. Responding to her urgency, he gently lowered her to the blanket. Then he came down beside her, moving gracefully, easily, with a controlled, muscular restraint. In another moment he was on top of her, all over her, twisting his leather-clad legs against hers. He allowed his rigid prick to rub alternately against her covered thighs, then across the burning, exposed areas of her groin. Each movement of his lust-crazed body against her forced a groan or sigh from her gasping lips ... except when his own, hungry, demanding mouth sealed them.
Passion throbbed like a living entity throughout the length of her being, beating with frantic intensity at every point where the veins lay near the surface. Her throat and temples seemed to swell and contract in time to the thumping cadence of her heart. At either side of her loins, the throbbing beat of full arousal was rapidly communicating itself to the innermost portions of her body. A flood of lubricating fluids surged out of her, moistening the leather about her upper thighs, soaking into the blanket, coating the heavy shaft that slid across her labia and threatened at any moment to impale her.
At what seemed the height of their frantic exchange, Bill raised his chest slightly above her and pulled her arms out to her sides. He lowered himself against her again, crushing her boobs as he had before, and releasing her hands so they closed about the outside back of his jacket. This new position only increased her desire. Her fingers slid across the hard, cool shell, while beneath it she felt the moving sinew. Again, the leather seemed alive, and now it completely enclosed her upper body.
Bill's mouth came down upon one breast, his teeth working the flesh as he drew the great mound into him. He laved it, soaked it with hot saliva, and gradually nibbled his way to the tip. There he gnawed with a pressure that bordered pain, tormenting her until she twisted in desperation, trying to force a severance of his persistent contact. But he held her wrists again, forcing her to stay where he wanted her. The furious hardness of her nipple negated any denial she might make. When Bill had driven her into such a frenzy she was actually bucking against him, lifting her back and shoulders off the blanket while tears streamed down her face, he shifted his attention to the other teat, and treated it as he had the first.
Elizabeth's whimpers turned to high-pitched squeals. Finally, she was close to screaming at the intensity of sensation Bill forced upon her. Leather-to-leather, her legs bound themselves about him, causing his cock to live with its upper surface within the labia, its crown touching, pressing on her anus. And this, too, became a seat of arousal. Not only her cunt, but now the membranes of her rectum sent orbiting waves of lust ... of desire that flooded her being. Elizabeth trembled, moaned, twisted upward to feel him-touch him any place she could. Whatever logical cognition remained to her, it was subverted by the knowledge of their total abandon ... the complete lack of environmental restraints. There were no walls to enclose them, no neighbors to hear their cries of ecstatic passion. They were in the wilds, beneath an open sky. What they felt or-did was "something they accomplished beyond the reach or bounds of society. The only rules to determine or limit their actions were their own ... their own, and no one else's.
She felt sweat running between their bodies, trickling off Bill's torso and clinging to the small collection of blond hair on his chest. On impulse, Elizabeth swiveled up and to the side, and placing her lips against his searing skin, she licked the salty moisture. Such unexpected ministration drove Bill into a sharp, almost convulsive thrashing. Abruptly he rolled onto his back, holding Elizabeth's belly against his own so she was forced to lie on top of him.
Now she started working on him in earnest, her tongue darting across his skin until the flesh retreated before her assault-seeming to shrink, to cringe away from her. She chewed his nipples as he had hers. Trailing her heavy teats across his belly, she thrilled to the contact of her dugs brushing upon the leather about his waist. Her mouth pressed onto his pec, sliding downward until her tongue could glean the wetness from beneath his arm. All the while, her leather-enclosed thighs gripped about his hips. She felt the demanding fury of his hardened iron against the back of her ass and she wiggled on top of it, crushing it between her crotch and the naked portion of his lower abdomen.
Looking down at him, she saw those cold, gray eyes staring at her, fixing her upon the steely spikes of his gaze. "Sit on it," he whispered. "Shove that big cock up inside you!"
She leaned forward, lifting her butt above the narrow span of hips, centering his cockhead to the glistening lips of her vagina. "Ever try the other way?" he whispered.
She shook her head, tilting still further forward so heavy shadows obscured her features. Her blonde hair was disheveled, shaggy as it hung above him, all reds and blacks from the softly glowing fire. His suggestion didn't shock her, and she was too aroused to let it dampen her enjoyment of his body. Once the flaring crown was in position, she eased herself onto it. For a moment she struggled to suppress a scream of painful delight that wanted to burst from her lips, to resound off the rocky cliffs behind them. Then her body accepted it, and discomfort turned to unmitigated bliss.
Bill's cock was not nearly as thick as Rod's, but it was longer, and tended to arch upward-thus causing the crown to press against the forward lateral of her channel. Sitting on him instead of lying against him, its springy force was greater. She found the position more furiously arousing than the more conventional one. Sucking breath through tightly-set jaws, she finally settled full against his loins, raising her torso slightly higher above his chest. This motion forced his cock to stand erect, forming a right angle to his body, pressing even more rigorously against the front of her vagina.
"Oh, Lizzy! Are you gonna get it!" he groaned. Immediately, his hips began pumping against the underside of her cunt, his leather-covered legs riding against the naked roundness of her buttocks. Along the insides of her thighs, the smooth, leather surfaces came together with an electrifying thrill that made her move in reciprocal emphasis to Bill's hard, thrusting drives.
He reached up, seizing her boobs where they bounced and swayed within their artificial enclosures. She tilted her head as the glorious sensations took possession of her. But as she did this, she saw that Rod and Mona had stopped-or finished ... for whatever reason, both of them were kneeling on their blanket, watching.
She saw the other girl's slender body, the beautifully formed teats ... smaller than her own, but even more firm and proudly upthrusting. Rod ... huge, hairy ... magnificently animal, gloriously male ... Suddenly she wanted him. Never breaking her responding pace against Bill's groin, she looked carefully, trying to discern her husband's outline in the darkness. It seemed ... yes, his cock was standing outward, fully erect. It was hard and ready ... maybe once, but he's good for more than that. Fucked me four times one night ... screwed me raw ... "Rod!" she gasped. "Rod!"
He looked into her eyes, and she tossed her head, beckoning him to her. He glanced at Mona, shrugged and moved across the clearing. He stopped a couple of feet away from them, his cock harder now, reacting to the scene the two participants enacted for him. Elizabeth reached out, her fingers curling in the air only an inch or so from the tip of his prick. Rod edged a step closer and she seized his shaft, pulled him by it, forcing him to her. He stood astride Bill's waist, feet planted firmly on the blanket as Elizabeth continued drawing his cock toward her lips and finally drove herself upon it.
Both her arms went around Rod's powerful thighs and she ground her face against his pubic hair. At the same time she maintained her rhythm upon the rising, slamming hips, feeling the fantastic thrill of a dual impalement. She was so involved in her own erotic functions she had not seen Mona approach them. Elizabeth started in surprise as the other girl's legs suddenly appeared within her line of vision. Mona knelt in back of Rod, straddling Bill's head. Through the space between Rod's legs, Elizabeth could see Bill's face ... tongue licking across his lips, seeming to reach ... Then Mona's chestnut patch blocked her view, and the girl lowered her snatch against Bill's waiting lips.
Elizabeth could hear Mona's sighs of animal pleasure as Bill's tongue probed the underside of her body. From the motions of Rod's groin against her face, she presumed the girl was doing something to him-what, she hardly dared imagine. The hardened cock within her own vagina was holding her in place. She was like an insect impaled upon a display board, and beneath her loins she felt Bill's sensual, writhing enjoyment of all that transpired above him.
Then she was coming! The fierce possession of her body overrode the other perceptions. She was only partially aware of Rod's cock still in her mouth, and whatever Mona was doing she completely missed. Just as her own spasms were receding, she felt the gush of Rod's discharge across her tongue; and because Bill's beating tattoo against her was slackening off, she knew he had come as well. She became aware, again, of the moving air across her sweat-drenched skin, while the distant sounds of insects and the rush of bubbling water edged within her threshold of consciousness.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Saturday blazed to life across the sandy void below their campsite, and with the light came an immediate flush of heat. "It's gonna be warm," said Rod. He rolled out of the blankets, irritatingly cheerful, wide awake as he stood naked above Elizabeth's unwilling form. "Come on, sleepy-head!" He nudged her with his toe, making her shift position. This brought her hip into contact with something hard and uncomfortable on the ground beneath the blanket.
She sighed, twisted onto her back as she stretched both arms above her head. The blanket fell back to reveal her naked breasts ... pink and relaxed. Their weight pressed down upon themselves, making them fatter about the base as they tended to loll toward either side of her ribcage. The brown-red tips were wide and dilated with sleep, the nipples almost smoothed into their discs. Rod remained beside her for another few moments, smiling down, obviously pleased with the sight of her full, supple body. Like a giant colossus, he stood with legs apart, as if their separation were necessary to accommodate the heavy cock and the sac behind it. Through the beet-red fold of foreskin an extra eye seemed to peek out at her. Each of them was aware of a new sexuality that existed between them ... a world of experience and sensation they had yet to fully explore.
As Elizabeth squirmed again within the warm cocoon, she wished they were alone, that Rod would seize her and use this entirely untried vista she had to offer. What she felt, she realized, was love ... desire to be sure, but her preception of Rod included more than the blind lust which Bill was able to evoke within her.
"Oh, you're up!" called Mona from across the clearing. "I'll have coffee made in a minute." She stepped over a log bench and stood next to Rod, who absently placed his arm about her waist, hand resting against her hip. Mona was dressed in a pair of shorts and a halter ... pretty, innocently youthful with her damp hair brushed back from her face and no trace of makeup.
Elizabeth made herself smile at them, forced her body to stretch again with a display of acceptance and unconcern. What she felt was jealousy. There was no other word for it. Rod was hers, and she wanted him! At that moment Mona was an intruder and Elizabeth resented her.
Later, when they were seated about the fire, lifting bacon and eggs to their lips, with plastic forks, she listened to the others' light, bantering conversation. Now she felt foolish. All of them had shared, fully, totally ... willingly. Their exchanges had been the most complete that any people could ever have. Jealousy? Ridiculous! Rod sat with her, and Bill was with Mona. Except for the moments when they engaged in sex that crossed the marital lines, they were each a couple ... a family unit unto themselves. No one was going to take Rod away from her; no one was trying. And the sharing with Mona was fully reciprocated.
"You think Bert's going to show up?" asked Bill. "Bert?" asked Elizabeth.
"Yeah, guess I forgot to tell you," said Rod casually. "He said he'd arrive this afternoon, if he could find the place," he added to Bill.
"Is he ... I mean, is someone coming with him?" asked Elizabeth.
"Sure," Bill assured her. "Everybody's gotta bring his own. Right?" He glanced at Mona, resting a hand on her arm as he stood up.
The girl smiled at her husband, reaching for a sack to collect their paper plates and plastic forks. "It would be fun," she said to Elizabeth. "Bert's a ball! And if he brings Patsy ... well, she's really cool!"
"I've met her," said Elizabeth coldly. It annoyed her that Rod had known this and never said a word about it. Bert had been to their apartment twice with Patsy, and it embarrassed Elizabeth to think of her in this setting. They had always been ... proper-not formal exactly, but it had definitely been a situation where she played hostess in proper attire receiving guests. Three couples? Must be what they intend. They know Patsy, and it was Bert who introduced ... referred us.
Her irritation gradually faded. Annoyed as she tried to be, the thought of Bert excited her. He was extremely handsome ... smaller than Rod-compactly built ... curly black hair, and a perpetual smile. But Patsy's always been such a lady! She must spend half of what she makes on clothes and getting her hair done. She has the most beautiful wardrobe of any woman I know Model ... probably gets them at discount ... some things free when she poses in them. Still, Patsy out here ... But, I'm as much the lady as any of them! Wonder what our neighbors would think if they could have seen me last night...?
In spite of herself, a smile crossed her lips. Her vision of the shocked expressions on the faces of her terribly proper acquaintances in the apartment building almost made her laugh. Wonder what they do in the privacy of their own little cages? Wonder how many of those oh-so-proper ladies are playing squat-tag over a big cock ... sucking....
"What's so funny?" asked Rod. He was staring at her, wanting to smile, but not sure what was amusing her.
Elizabeth started to giggle. "I was just wondering what Mrs. Farr would thing about all this," she said.
"You mean that scrawny old scarecrow in the back unit?" He got the picture then, and did laugh. "I'm afraid we'd petrify the lot of 'em-that, or turn them on!" He trotted off, then, down the slope after Bill who had taken the hatchet and gone to gather wood.
Yes, I guess I'd shock a lot of people. That's for sure! A few weeks ago I was just as respectable as I appeared ... and miserable. Now, I'm alive as I've never been before ... and yet ... Nuts! Why does the world have to be so stupid? It's my body, not theirs! Who has any right to tell me what I can do with it? To hell with Mrs. Farr and all the rest of them!
She helped Mona clean the frying pan and coffeepot. The made up the bed rolls, but spread their kits about the campsite to make it appear each couple occupied one of the allotted spaces. This would discourage some unwanted group from moving in on them ... if anyone else could find the place. After this they climbed down the slope, joining the two men at the bottom.
"Find any monsters?" asked Elizabeth.
"There's a few of 'em," said Bill. "See, the water's rippling over there." He pointed to a place where more Ranger-planted trees overhung the pool.
"Too bad they're not big enough to eat," she said.
They hiked a little way across the valley, onto the open sand where Bill pointed out a number of animal tracks. 'There's quite a drama going on after dark," he told them. "See, a rabbit went through her; and that's a snake's trail over there."
"Ugh! I hope there aren't any around now," said Mona.
"Just watch where you step," Rod told her.
After that, both women kept a wary eye on any patch of scrub grass or brush. They found a place where a desert tortoise had laid her eggs, but all the babies had hatched and gone. 'Too bad," Bill remarked. 'They're cute little buggers."
The sun was high above when they started back, and by noon it was decidedly hot ... much warmer than any of them had expected. They drank some water from the stream, cupping their hands beneath the small waterfall, just before it cascaded into the pool. "Why don't we bring the sandwiches down and have lunch here?" suggested Mona.
"After a little bare-ass dip," said Bill.
For Elizabeth, this was another new experience. It was also one she enjoyed all the more, because she immediately thought how it would affect her neighbors. Just picturing their disapproving stares added immeasurably to the fun. But the act itself was unexpectedly satisfying. Swimming in the nude, under full sunlight, surrounded by wilderness, she decided, was one of the grooviest innovations thus far. The feel of water against her body ... her entire body-uninhibited by the dragging weight of cloth-aroused a completely new set of emotions. Basically sexual, to be sure, these feelings encompassed more. And part of it was pride in the display she was able to make of her well-formed body ... the big breasts that neither sagged nor drooped ... these monumental elements of beauty that must normally be concealed beneath the shells of some restricting bra-else seen only in semi-darkness, when their perfect contours were partially obscured.
Elizabeth pulled herself from the water, her body gleaming wet and reflecting the brilliant, desert sunlight. She was across the pool from the others, sitting on a flat rock that was so hot it threatened to fry her skin. But her perch provided such a perfect display platform she remained there, allowing the moisture from her body to seep across the stone, cooling it until she was able to tolerate its warmth. Without looking in their direction, she knew the others were watching her ... admiring her. She pretended to arrange her hair, pulling it straight so it would dry free of snarls and tangles.
Mona, she thought, Mona, with her boy-like body ... boy-like except for her small, firm teats. It pleased her to dwell on the other girl's inability to compete with her own voluptuous, fully female display. It was pride, but more than pride alone. Jealousy again? Is that it? I'm being childish ... silly. But I can't help it, because there is a type of competition. Still, what difference does it make if my boobs are bigger than hers, for Christ's sake?
"Come on, Lizzy. Get some lunch," called Bill.
"Yeah, Godiva, get off your rocky saddle!" That was Rod, and his tone deflated her self-image ... maybe a degree of her self-confidence, as well.
Why must he always be so offhanded about it? Even when we were having troubles and I knew he was upset, he always acted as if sex were something he could survive without ... something he wanted, but was willing to wait for ... all except that one time, and then it was to pull me into this ... where we really aren't ourselves ... not making it with each other except when we 're in our own apartment. I know he appreciates how a woman looks. If he'd only say so ... only tell me ... what? Love? Is that what I want to hear from him? School Girl! Romantic school girl!
She slipped back into the water, careful to keep her head from going under again and tangling her hair worse than it was. Halfway across, and her thoughts persisted. She hadn't been nearly so concerned over how show looked to Bill ... nor Mona, really. It was Rod. She wanted Rod to see her ... notice her. Now isn't that silly? After three years of marriage I'm worried about whether he notices me!
Bill had brought a blanket when he went after the food, so they all sat around the edges of it, cross-legged like Indians ... naked Indians, their bodies steaming slightly as the searing sunlight dried them.
"We'd better move back under the trees as soon as we finish lunch," said Rod. "Otherwise, we're going to look like boiled lobsters."
"Lizzy's already starting to look a little red," Bill agreed. He was beside her, between Elizabeth and Mona. Casually, he reached out and patted the rounded surface of Lizzy's inner thigh. Without moving her head, she glanced at Rod, but he was completely unconcerned ... maybe hadn't even noticed. I really do want to make him jealous! Or, at least I'd like him to feel more ... more possessive, maybe. That's it, I guess. I just want to make sure he appreciates the value of what he's got ... what he's so willing to give-or loan-to another guy.
After lunch they gathered up their things and climbed back to the campsite. Except for shoes, they were all still nude, each of them unwilling to relinquish the freedom of the situation. Warm, dry air moved across their bodies, making the skin tingle with a feeling of unrestricted intimacy ... to each other, to nature ... maybe to life, itself. There was also an aura of companionship, friendship.
Elizabeth looked back at Mona, struggling up the hill behind her, and felt an unexpected glow of warmth toward this other girl, as well. It was not a sexual feeling, of course. She quickly reassured herself on that score! It was more as she might have regarded a sister.
Elizabeth had never really had a female friend-not a close, everything-confided kind of friend. She'd never trusted another woman that much, not even as a girl in school. And now why Mona? They really hadn't that much in common ... except the men. But how much more could two women have between them? How much more intimate could a relationship be?
Her own thoughts disturbed her, suddenly, and her open nakedness became somehow wrong. As soon as they were back under the trees Elizabeth put on her shorts and halter. Without comment, the others also dressed. For the moment, their innocent intimacy was over.
Flies buzzed around her head. One big fat fellow landed on her throat, and Elizabeth brushed it away. This awakened her and she glanced quickly about, coming so abruptly from the depths of sleep she was momentarily uncertain of her whereabouts. Rod was snoring gently on a blanket just a short distance away. They had started their nap side by side, but the sun's heat increased until the additional warmth of one another's body had become too much. He had moved away from her.
Across the clearing she saw Mona and Bill, sharing their blanket, but also separated by a foot or two of space between them. The sun was quite low in the sky, casting shadows from their clump of trees that extended well back against the cliff. She stood, up moving quietly so as not to disturb her companions.
Rod barely stirred in his sleep, and the others seemed just as deep in slumber. Elizabeth felt sticky, aware of a fine, powdery dust adhering to a layer of sweat. Taking a towel and a bar of soap, she headed down the path, coming back once to get a comb and brush. Then she went all the way to the bottom.
The pool was partially shaded by a shadow from the single outcropping of rock. The water looked dark, but cool and inviting. Piling her possessions on a stony patch of ground, she quickly undressed and entered the pool. Unable to see her feet, she felt her way along the sandy slope, gradually lowering her body as she edged down the incline. The water seemed cooler than it had before, especially where she was, in the shadow-darkened portion.
The water crept up her thighs as she moved slowly forward, torturing herself by entering slowly instead of diving headlong into it. Somewhere in the back of her mind was the fear of cramps. She was swimming alone, while all the rule books warned against it. Dear, if that were the only rule I'd broken this weekend ... and how many more? What's going to happen tonight?
Bert had not arrived, and she felt a strange suggestion of disappointment. It would have been fun, she admitted. Bert had always attracted her, though she'd never even seen him in a pair of swimming trunks. She glanced down, watching the dark surface move toward the tops of her thighs ... the blond, curly hairs of her patch touching the water, floating momentarily until the force of her downward progress pulled them under. She felt the coolness seep between her legs, filling her crotch ... her cunt. Cool that hot box! Turn it off a little bit. Lady! Lady Godiva ... only that one didn't fuck every man who came along!
But I don't either ... just Rod and Bill ... and Bert, if I got the chance. Is that any better? Is there any morality in that ... in restricting myself to just three men? Whore! she told herself, smiling at the thought. Every woman has the soul of a whore. Someone had told her that ... quoted it from someplace. Who was it? Came from the writings of the same dirty old man who said women never age from the waist down ... some old rounder from the dark ages ... a monk or abbot, I think.
The water reached her waist and she felt the incline drop away more sharply beneath her feet. With a gentle thrust of her toes, she propelled her body toward the center of the pool. The water looked so dark it was almost like swimming in the ocean, where one had no idea how far away the bottom was. She paddled about for several minutes, allowing her body to adjust to the chill, felt the water rinse away the sweat and grime.
She tried to stand, feeling for the bottom until she touched. She started up, raising her body until both breasts floated even with the surface. She watched them fondly, proudly. Then something made her look up. Bill was on the bank! He stood grinning at her, naked ... his clothes piled on top of hers ... big prick already shriveling as he stood with his toes in the cold water. "Want some company?" he asked.
"Sure. Toss me the soap," she replied evenly. Her heart was suddenly beating faster, but whether it was a result of being startled or from pure, simple lust, she couldn't tell-didn't care, really. She watched Bill move back from the edge, bend, flip her bra and towel aside until he found the plastic soap dish. He opened it, turned toward her and tossed the white bar. "Hope it floats," he laughed.
She caught the soap before it hit the surface, and took a couple of steps up the embankment, raising most of her body free of the water and beginning to rub the cake across her arms. Bill ran past her, kicking up a plume of flying droplets as he plunged into the pool and splashed about behind her.
Elizabeth continued soaping herself, finding it difficult to make suds in the unheated water. She had managed to apply a thin, slick layer to the front of her body when Bill swam back. Taking the soap from her hands, he started to rub it gently across her back and shoulders. The sun, though lower in the sky, was still warm. So was the air about them. Elizabeth's skin was already beginning to dry ... the soap, too, leaving a crusty series of swirls where she had applied it. Bill was splashing water against her back as he worked lower, finally pressing hands and the soap between the cheeks of her ass.
"I can reach that, myself," she told him lightly.
His hands came away for a second, and she glanced over her shoulder, wondering if her remark had discouraged him. She hadn't meant to, really, because he was definitely arousing her. But Bill had obviously been working with two hands, one on her and one on himself. His skin was also slick and shiny with its film of soap. As she looked, Elizabeth saw he was rubbing it into the brush of hair above his cock. And this was no longer soft ... certainly not shriveled....
"Just what have you got in mind, big boy?" she asked.
Wordlessly, he came against her back, his skin sliding against hers. His hands slipped about her, fingers seeking and finding the soft undercurve of her breasts. "These are really something, baby," he whispered. Each palm was cupped beneath a teat, warming them. He still held the soap, gripping it precariously between his fingers. She took it from him and tossed it onto the sand.
Bill hugged her tighter, pressing her spine against his chest ... rigid prick slipping along the crack of her ass, coming to rest between the cheeks as his loins nestled upon their roundness. "How 'bout it?" he whispered.
"Umm," she moaned. His hands were slipping across her belly, returning to lift and fondle the full, ponderous orbs of her teats, then down ... fingers stealing across her inner thighs, prying back the resistive flesh, reaching between her legs. She started to turn, but Bill held her fast. "How about just like this?" he asked.
"Not a chance," she whispered, forcing herself free and finally turning to face him. His lips touched her, and in the same moment his cock snapped between her thighs, nuzzling the underside of her pussy. "That's more like it," she muttered.
Bill was standing a little lower on the slope than she, thus equalizing the heights of their bodies. In their present position, his prick was exactly aligned with her snatch. He eased up slightly, and Elizabeth shifted sideways, just the necessary trifle ... and he was in her! Gradually, he pressed more firmly, moving a bit higher on the slope and driving his shaft in deeper.
They kissed, both closing their eyes which slowly made them lose their balance. But even this was sensual. Elizabeth was falling against him, driving him into deeper water. He was beginning to support her weight, half buoyed by the enclosing fluid. As he did this, his cock slid fully into her, after which neither was willing to break the contact. She felt the fullness stretching her, commanding the rapid swell of blind desire. Water surrounded her head, her face, and both of them were beneath the surface.
Sputtering, they came up, each swimming with his hands, yet somehow managing to keep their legs entwined and their lower bodies coupled. Bill's prick was still within the lips of her cunt as he drew them slowly toward the shore ... toward the slope of sand where they could once again touch bottom. She felt a rough surface grate against her buttocks, then her back, as Bill pressed into her. The water was just below her chin, but she was already being driven firmly against the ground. Realizing she could not sink or drift away, Bill began a floating, driving motion against her.
"Ever do it in a bathtub?" he gasped.
"No," she whispered. They kissed again, and both were immediately beyond any mood to joke. The sensations of reciprocated lust were too intense. But as much as Elizabeth enjoyed the pounding force that swelled within her, and desperate as the grip of her hands became about his shoulders ... her legs around his legs, she also realized-with some surprise-that their relationship had become much too easy ... free to a point where the nervous excitement, the novelty, was gone. Last night the leather had stimulated her, and now it was the open sky-the idea of being fucked under water. Without these embellishments ... she wondered....
Bill's hand clamped about one side of her ass, moving her higher toward the water's edge as he drove himself more furiously against her. His prick lodged at its maximum depth and his unrelenting strokes were bringing her near a climax. Cool water moved about the labia, but within her body he was hot and demanding. His balls floated against her, cooler and not impacting as solidly as she remembered. Then he was thrusting so deeply into her he began drawing his sac within the enclosure of flesh, bringing renewed sensation to the outer folds.
Her eyelids flickered, making the brightness alternately increase and diminish. Deep within her she felt the forces gathering. Bill went tense against her, muscles drawn taut as the circle of his arms became a loop of naked steel. His prick began to tremble, and a groan escaped his lips as he fired his juices far inside her cunt. His lips and then his teeth closed against her throat, exerting a pressure that would have forced a scream of anguish had furious passion not immobilized her responses.
"Wow! Can anybody play?" came a familiar voice behind her.
Elizabeth jerked her head around and looked up into Bert's glowing, handsome features. He stood at the water's edge, naked to the waist. His faded blue jeans bulged out at the crotch; his bare, hairy chest was gleaming with sweat. The smile she always pictured on his face was there, as well, only now it curled into a more meaningful grin ... almost a leer, as he watched her getting fucked in a desert pool ... totally nude ... in the wilds ... with a man who was not her husband.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Patsy was waiting for them when they climbed the hill to camp. Just as Elizabeth suspected she would, the girl looked cool and unruffled. One would never have guessed she had ridden over a hundred miles on the back of a motorcycle. Bill had been holding Elizabeth's hand, helping her up the final, steep grade. She felt his fingers tighten about hers when he saw the newcomer.
Well, Patsy is something to look at, I guess. Long legs ... that's the first thing you notice about her. She's got legs like most movie queens only wished they had, and a willowy body that somehow has just enough meat on it to curve and bulge in the right places. That red hair ... tinted, of course, but I'd guess she keeps close to its real color ... just highlights from the beauty parlor. Green eyes like an Irish imp, and pretty face with exactly the right touches of cosmetic. Breasts can't compare to mine, though. I've got her beat in that department!
"Hi, Lizzy," called the other girl as she saw them emerge from the bushes. "You certainly must have been getting the sun!"
"Oh, am I red?"
"A little bit," said Patsy. "Here, let me put some stuff on you." Her smile was so genuinely friendly it made Elizabeth feel guilty to harbor thoughts of a negative-even a competitive nature. She sat with her back to Patsy as the long, delicate fingers began applying the soothing ungent. How can she look so neat and clean? Those slacks might have come right off the cleaner's hanger, and there's not a trace of perspiration on her blouse.
"Did you change clothes?" she asked. She couldn't help posing the question. In her dusty, sweat-stained shorts and halter she felt like a slob by comparison.
Patsy laughed. "You know I don't sweat, dear," she said. "If I did, I'd melt under the lights. Just one of the tricks of the trade." She made an exaggerated gesture, one hand behind her head as if testing the position of her hair. But she didn't actually touch it. Her fingers were still coated with the cream she was rubbing onto Lizzy's back. "My!" She clucked her tongue. "This sunburn goes right on ... under the halter straps. Naughty girl!"
Elizabeth groaned, almost purred at the cool, slick feel of Patsy's fingers moving across her skin. "I'd still like to know how you do it," she said.
"Well, for one thing I made Bertie-Bird put a longer guard-or whatever you call it-on that smokestack. Otherwise, I'd have arrived in blackface."
"And she made me stay under sixty, so the wind wouldn't cook the peaches-and-cream," added Bert, He reached for Patsy's cheek as if to pinch it, but the girl twisted her head away.
"Don't squeeze the merchandise," she warned him. "Not unless you're going to buy it," she added lightly.
"I might just do that," he returned.
"Hum! That's not the way I heard it," said Patsy. Her smile never faltered, but her eyes traveled around the group, frankly appraising the other two men. "You've got competition this weekend, lover-boy!"
"Well!" said Bert. "Guess I got told!" Grinning, he turned to Bill and Rod. "So, how long does a guy have to wait for a drink around this place?"
"Coming up!" said Mona. "Beer or something stronger?"
Bert's eyes radiated an aura of pleasurable anticipation. The way he ogled Mona, Elizabeth wondered if they'd ever made the scene. She assumed they had ... Rod had said as much, but at this moment his interest seemed so keen, it was almost as if he were seeing her for the first time. His expression, certainly left no doubt of his very genuine attraction. "I'd like something that doesn't fight back," Bert told Mona. "Something...." He gestured with his hands, as if outlining a feminine torso. " ... something, soft, that goes down easy."
"Beer, then?"
"Beer's fine ... for now," he said.
"Dear, in every crowd there's always a sex-crazed youth," quipped Patsy.
"Never heard you complain before," Bert replied. He popped the tab on his can of beer, taking a healthy swig before he continued speaking. "So, what have the rest of you been up to this afternoon? The others, I mean," he added with a boyish grin at Elizabeth. "I know what some of you've been doing."
"Sleeping, mostly," said Rod. "Did you have an easy trip?"
"Oh, some traffic." Bert settled on a bench. "Not bad, though."
"I'm surprised we've got the place to ourselves," Patsy remarked. "It's such a great spot! How come more people don't know about it?"
"It'll be swarming with kids and dogs and honest, hard-working family types in another couples of weeks," said Bill.
They chatted and drank for the better part of two hours, until all of them were completely relaxed-feeling no pain whatever. Mona had started the fire, and with Elizabeth's help she placed steaks on the metal grill and rolled the foil-wrapped potatoes into the coals. The odors of cooking food began to dominate their thoughts as Patsy arranged plastic plates and flatware on the single, long picnic table.
Everyone ate as if he were starved, and not until the girls were clearing the board was there much conversation. As Patsy started shoving the collection of rubbish into a paper sack, she shook her head and remarked, "Amazing how much stuff you can pack on a motorcycle, if you know how."
"Oh? And did you have room for a little you-know-what?" asked Bill.
"Ha! Just so happens the vice squad staged a little raid two nights ago," laughed Bert. "And one of my good buddies...." He pulled a small, brown paper bag from the bottom of a blanket roll. From this, he extracted a plastic envelope, which he held up for the others' edification. 'The best TJ bluegrass-or is it green?"
"You guys are terrible!" said Patsy.
"Well, the kilos gotta work out even," Bert replied. "Wouldn't do for this extra stuff to confuse the inventory."
"I hope somebody's got paper," said Bill.
Bert bowed to Patsy, making a wide gesture with his arms. She pulled a half dozen packages from her purse. "Now, if someone will contribute a little spit...." she said.
Watching all of this, Elizabeth felt a bit uneasy. Only once, after that first night with Bill and Mona, had she smoked marijuana-and then it was just a single cigarette. It had helped overcome her fears in that first instance, and had freed her to behave as she would normally have been afraid to do. Now, especially after her wild, lascivious display of last night, the thought of what might happen was almost terrifying. Terrifying ... and yet ... like I am with Bert. He attracts me something terrible, but I'd never do anything unless ... unless Rod pushed me into it. Still, I know I want him. The pot ... I'm afraid of it, too, but it was pleasant. So strange about Rod! He never used it before. I'm sure he didn't! Now ... my God! Now, any thing goes! Sex, marijuana ... anything!
Carefully, Bill was tapping a slender trail of dried, greenish leaf onto a paper, deftly rolling it into a cigarette. "Sorry, I forgot to bring my rollie machine," he said. He already had three or four finished, and seemed determined to use the entire bag. Well, no use worrying about it, We're all here together, and if they do it, I'll do it When in Rome....
Bill continued working on his joints, while Bert picked one up and lit it. He took a deep drag and passed it to Patsy. "I wonder how it'll work in the open?" he said. "I've never tried it except in a small room."
"Great, baby ... great!" Bill assured him. "Nothing like pot and the great outdoors! Nothing!"
The cigarette came to Elizabeth. With a final shrug and just the suggestion of a sigh, she placed it to her lips. After that, it was only a matter of time.
The night seemed darker than the one before, with a heavy, clinging heat that refused to dissipate. What little breeze wafted up from the desert was as warm as the air surrounding them. Perhaps as a result of this, Elizabeth felt herself sinking ever further into the enfolding lassitude engendered by the sweet, cloying smoke. From the first, she realized the effects were more profound than they had been before. Then it didn't seem to matter, and finally she ceased trying to evaluate what was happening to her.
So far, the others were doing nothing. Bill took off his shirt, and Bert had never put one on. But the rest were all completely dressed. Patsy was sitting closest to her, and the three men were talking about trail-bikes.
Funny that J should be the one dwelling on thoughts of sex. I already did it once with Bill, and now I'm watching them like a bitch in heat. Mona's the only one of us who can keep up with those guys when they get off on all the cycle jazz ... and Patsy looks like she's half asleep.
Gee, it sure gets black out here, doesn't it?" said the other girl suddenly. Her eyes were open, Elizabeth noticed, but her body seemed to lack the energy to move.
"I'd stoke up the fire," answered Bert unexpectedly, "only I think it's warm enough already."
"It certainly is!" said Mona. "Are you guys going to sit there all night, worrying about machines?"
"Feel neglected, baby?" asked Bert. His eyes shone brightly, suddenly eager through the shadows that darkened his face. He was seated near Mona's feet, and one hand patted her ankle.
After this, Elizabeth's perceptions became hazy. Someone suggested a midnight dip, and somehow they all managed to straggle down the hill. The cool waters revived her somewhat, but once they lay down on the bank, the pot began going around again, this time accompanied by beer. There were blankets all over the ground ... everyone naked ... bodies touching one another, touching her. She saw Patsy's long, elegant form stretched out a few feet away from her, the skin glowing softly in the silvery glow from the sky ... mirror smooth where moisture clung to her.
Bert was between them, arriving without her really knowing when or from which direction. She only knew his hard, lean body was touching hers. His tongue drove her lips apart; his wide, rough hand squeezed down on her teat while the rigid hardness of his cock pressed against her hip. Slowly, he slid onto her, spreading himself across her body, crushing her heavy breasts against her ribs and dry-fucking against her belly. He stayed a long time, twisting slightly and arousing a fresh wave of pleasurable sensation with each repositioning of himself on top of her yielding flesh.
Then he rolled away, not far, just off her so the air moved once again across her skin, seeming to riffle the hairs about her pussy. She spread her legs, allowing the almost fluid atmosphere to caress these lips as well. Bert took her hand and placed it about his shaft. She felt its firm demand, fingers testing the solidarity of the pulsing orbs within their sac ... wrinkled skin that gave with springy elasticity before her gentle touch.
His mouth came down wetly on her breast, and Lizzy closed her eyes, allowing the fullness of sensation to captivate her without the interference of visual impression. Hands traveled across her, patting her like one might fondle a favorite pet. She moaned and twisted slightly against the easy pressure, trying to increase the firmness of the contact, yet pleasurably aroused by what it was.
Someone placed another cigarette between her lips, and she pulled the heavy smoke deeply into her lungs. Immediately, she experienced another wave of floating bliss ... complete lack of concern. Even the hard, stony ground beneath her back seemed to fade into some sort of drifting softness. The hands were still upon her ... more than one ... two ... not just Bert, any more; but she did not have the energy to open her eyes. The moving contacts were too euphoric. She didn't care who it was. She reveled in it, writhed against it, and remained in the same, unseeing ecstasy.
She felt a hot, wet pressure just above her knee ... a drawing pull that brought a mouth completely about the curve of muscle. It sent a tingle shooting up her thigh, awakening a nervous response in her crotch until her sex awakened. Oozing secretions flowed out of her as the heated wetness advanced toward the apex of her legs.
Hands across her midsection, finger playing in her navel as another mouth came down about her teat ... sucking, drawing, trying desperately to engulf the entire mass. Blood thundered in her throat and she looked to see Bert bending across her chest, beginning to work his teeth against her nipple. His hard-muscled back was arched across her so she could not see who it was that laved her thigh, approaching its upper terminus ... the streaming box where explosive desire must have been sending forth waves of invitation. Then a tongue touched the outer folds and Lizzy gasped, twisting against the face that fastened about her teat, drawing away from the overly sensitive contact now beginning to seize her clit.
As she turned her head in the throes of ecstatic arousal, she saw Bill with Mona, and for a moment it seemed strange they should be together. Why not ... why not ... and who cares? What difference...? Her back lifted off the blanket as the tongue probed the opening of her vagina and she felt a new rush of secretions from just beneath the point where it touched her. Rod ... must be Rod doing that ... yes, Rod....
She closed her eyes again as the delicious sensations closed about her, and the utter bliss became the sum total of everything. Her mind had ceased any normal, reasonable function. Nothing mattered, as the possessing wings of euphoria pressed in upon her consciousness. The cumulative effects of the pot and alcohol were carrying her into a realm of sheer, naked sensation. This, and the certain knowledge that Rod was driving his tongue and lips against her throbbing organs alleviated any need for motion or considered response. She responded without thought or awareness ... simply undulated in the same, floating environment as she had with Bill when they were underwater.
Only this was warm and more than a single pair of lips worked upon her ... more than one man's hands stroked her skin and expressed their adoration by the petting, gentle movement upon the surface of her body. The contact on her cunt and against her breast continued while still another set of lips came down on hers, tongue driving between her teeth and probing the roof of her mouth. Her eyes flickered open ... briefly, closed again as if being driven shut by the pressure of some intense source of light. The face above hers was blurred, but she was aware of the dark ring of hair which framed the features. Rod? Was it Rod? Who...? The lips brushed across her eyes, moist tongue caressing the lids as she kept them closed, allowing the adoration and accepting it without question.
For a long while ... exactly how long Elizabeth never knew, but for a space of time that seemed to stretch into an eternal bliss, she permitted her body to respond of its own volition, while her mind drifted into cloudy vistas where pleasure was the only reality. This continued until she became vaguely aware of a light stirring ... air moving across her breasts, still moist from their recent possession. Her mouth and lips were free, as well, though warm hands continued to move across her stomach and groin, and the persistent, delving pressure remained within her cunt.
She opened her eyes to the velvet blackness of the sky, the huge, silver stars that stretched in infinite patterns ... so close to her she might reach them. Never had they seemed so near, so warm ... With a lazy movement of her head, she glanced idly about her, mildly curious, yet unconcerned. More than anything else she was vaguely aware of a wish to resume contact with her lips or hands upon the body of whichever man was by her. She saw the center of hirsute maleness near her hand ... Rod's heavy frame, his taut belly muscles flexing as he worked his face against Mona's crotch. The girl was on her side, angled away from Lizzy, and Rod had his back to her, his head twisted backward to achieve its contact.
Straddling Mona was another ... Bill, she realized ... presenting his cock for her enclosing lips. Above her, she became aware of another form ... Patsy? No ... It was Bert, just starting to kneel ... Bert? Rod, Bill ... Bert ... but ... She raised her head enough to see. The frantic motion had never lessened against her box, and even in the euphoric state from the beer and marijuana, she felt a twinge of revulsion. Yes, it was! Patsy's head was pressed firmly between her legs, tongue lodged far within the vagina, hands traveling across Lizzy's hips and loins.
She dropped her head back against the blanket, knowing it was wrong and willing herself to turn away. But she had neither the strength nor determination to fight the peculiar circumstances of her physical bliss. Does it really matter? No one else seems to care, and the feeling ... the feeling ... Bert's crotch came down across her belly, cutting off her view of Patsy. He rested his weight upon his feet, and then his knees as he straddled her, placing his ass against the lower edge of her ribcage. His cock-monstrous, long and fat like Rod's, but capped with a crown that must have been twice as large-was lying in the valley between her breasts ... warm ... hot, to a point of searing intensity that seemed to exceed the limits of human flesh.
She watched through the veil of drug-induced stupor as his hands ... seeming to move so slowly ... no rush, no hurry ... His fingers clasped her boobs ... pressing in on them until they came together, surrounding his cock with their massive soft-firm fullness. He was forcing them into an unnatural position, and even this accorded her a new series of sensual ecstasies. She watched his dark, powerful body moving above her ... saw him outlined against the millions of diamond points that alternately grew sharp and then blurred behind his head. Only inches from her chin she saw the dark orb of his cockhead poking through the lighter expanse of herself.
He moved against her, never allowing his weight to crush her body. His cock was sliding along the channel he'd created with her dugs, and this added to the continuous frenzy of pulsing arousal from her pussy. Patsy had fastened her lips about the clitoris once again, and now worked upon it with such unrelenting determination that she brought Elizabeth to the brink of release, only to relinquish her hold seconds before the final moments, dropping her back into the suspended state of euphoric expectation. Bert began to pump ever faster against her breasts, and the feel of this assumed its own momentous proportions ... driving her toward a climax that must come regardless of the manipulations with her cunt.
The sensual pressures finally grew into proportions beyond her ability to define. Her eyes were closed again, and she could not separate the glorious emanations from one, without its mingling in formless pleasure with the other. She only knew her body was floating upward, and the volume ... the ecstasy of all she felt and knew was flying closer ... higher ... ever warm ... as the blinding glare of her eruption became inevitable. Like a ripe bubble swelling to its fullest, her emotions soared and expanded, and her physical sensation became so great her body exploded within the dark gulf of unnamed pleasure.
She felt a violent rush of fluids from deep inside her ... receding pressure along the walls of her vagina ... a lapping gentleness along the labia as Patsy retreated before the force of her climax, remaining to garner the prize that rewarded her ministrations. Elizabeth's writhing responses had been so violent, Bert must have been aware ... could hardly have missed the certain evidence of her corning. Feeling her body heave and strain beneath him, he had quickened his pace, and before the final spasms died away he fired a long, warm stream of jizz across her throat and neck. A pair of heated droplets struck against her nose, her lips, and she licked the salty bits away while the bulk of his semen remained to cool upon the skin of her chest, running in twin rivulets across her shoulders and onto the blanket beneath them.
Thoroughly drained at last, Elizabeth collapsed ... every muscle of her body relaxing completely. She was partially aware of movement around her, a shifting of bodies and a pair of striving, driving figures that locked together and copulated almost against her side. For the moment, she had reached the ultimate terminus of her ability. Someone lay down beside her ... a hard, hairy body that lifted her and pulled her into the circle of his arms. This much she felt ... or sensed. After that she slept.
CHAPTER NINE
Someone was shaking her, but black layers of sleep made him seem very far away. She opened one eye, registering only a single dark blur against another. Something warm and heavy lay across her body, pressing against her with a plastic rigidity. Hands gripped her shoulders, lifting her ... whispered words, half formed ... unreal....
"Lizzy! Lizzy, wake up!"
She shook her head, and suddenly felt very light. The clouds had parted, and thought the world remained nearly as dark as when her eyes were closed, she realized it was not a dream, but some human agency which grasped her.
As her eyes managed to focus, she recognized Bert's face a bare few inches from hers. "Are you okay?" he asked anxiously.
"Umm," she moaned. "Sure ... I guess. I'm fine." She smiled at him, as various factors began slipping into place and she remembered where she was. It was his body that lay against her, and with the increasing awareness came the realization that he was lying with his cock hard and rigid between her thighs. He must have been there for some time before he tried to rouse her, and God knows what he'd been doing.
She was about to protest his use of her, when his face dropped against hers, and his tongue drove between her lips. There was the taste of beer and the acrid remainder of tobacco on his breath ... pot, too, if she could have sensed it. But her own system was still attuned to this, and she could not detect its presence. She was reasonably comfortable, lying prone beneath a man she found attractive, receiving the attentions she had thought about ... rejected as impossible, only considered seriously a few hours before. Now, she was clasped in his embrace, climbing slowly from a morass of drug-deep oblivion to be seized by him ... maybe used in her sleep, awakened now to acknowledge his possession.
Her responses came before she had time to consider what was right or wrong. Her immediate existence was purely sensual, so without benefit of moral evaluation, she wrapped her arms tightly about Bert's body, hugging him to her as the heat of his kiss swept through her, rekindling the fires which had been banked by sleep, never extinguished, awaiting only the moment of her awakening and the touch which now called forth her lust.
Bert's elbows rested on the blanket, to either side of her chest. His hands were under her, supporting her upper back and raising her head to form a better contact with his lips. His chest and belly were tightly against hers, and his groin was sealed by the heavy extension that swelled between her thighs. His legs were spread so they clamped about her, his heels turned inward beneath her knees. Now that he knew she was awake, he started driving his loins against her, making his cock slide up and down within its own, elastic sheath of skin. This, in turn, was stuck against the sides of her thighs as if glued in place. With her tight grip upon him, the only possible motion was the regular plunging of its rigid core inside its own covering.
The fierce desire that coursed through them both might have led to a rapid summation, had the violence of their exchange not awakened Bill, who lay almost against Elizabeth, cradling Mona in his arms. Languidly, he started to roll onto his back, which brought him into sharp contact with Bert's leg. The pulsing motion quickly revived the other man. Bill flipped onto his belly. He watched for a few moments, taking a vicarious thrill from their tightly entwined posture.
"Hey, buddy," he whispered. "Any chance...? You know...."
Bert chuckled. "Sure," he said hoarsely. "How 'bout sloppy seconds?"
Lizzy moaned, hearing them and not liking it. II that big cock wasn 't right there ... ready to slip inside ... Bastards! Talking like that!
"You know, Lizzy here grooves on leather," Bill continued. "Give you any ideas?"
Bert's regular motion against her loins slowed as he considered Bill's remark. "Really likes it, huh?" he muttered.
"Like a tigress," Bill assured him.
Slowly, Bert stopped moving. His full weight pressed down upon her, and his lips grazed the outer fold of her ear. "If you dig it, baby ... why not?" he whispered. "Okay?"
His belly moved against hers, warm and impossibly desirable. She had no idea what the hidden innuendos might imply, but Bert's possession of her made her weak ... physically unable to summon the strength to resist him. Nor did she really want to. The suggestion had already flushed new waves of desire from her guts, while the liquid reaction within her cunt emphasized her feelings. Far in the back of her mind something seemed to sound a warning ... an ominous note of caution which she was powerless to heed.
She wanted Rod to come to her, tell her it was all right ... either reassure her or ride to her rescue. But again, the feeble urge to question or protest was too weak ... too far away. Instead, she clasped her arms more tightly about Bert's shoulders and raised her loins, driving her pubis firmly against him.
Vaguely, she felt him nod his head, turning slightly ... looking up at Bill to communicate some unspoken agreement. The other man must have gotten to his feet. She wasn't certain, but her senses registered his motion ... his departure? She wasn't sure, and her lassitude deprived her of the energy to observe his naked form begin its rapid ascent of the slope that led to the campsite. Her only conscious interest was centered in the hovering form above her, the pressing weight of bone and muscle that wrapped itself around her.
She heard a soft, hissing "pop"-beer can being opened. Bert's arms had momentarily left her sides, and his weight upon her breasts and midsection had increased. She felt him lift his upper body, heard the sound of his drinking. Bill must have gotten him a can of beer before he ... before he left? Gone? Wonder ... wonder what they ... want ... She felt the cold, metal surface touch her cheek as Bert's fingers worked their way beneath her head. He was lifting her, pressing the can to her lips. "Take a sip," he whispered.
She tried to swallow the bitter fluid, spilling some down her chin, across her neck and onto the blanket. But most of it went down, and the effervescence felt good against the membrances of her throat. Bert rolled onto his side, pulling her with him, holding their loins together, but allowing her the freedom to raise her head. They each rested on one elbow, passing the can of beer back and forth between them. She drank greedily, now, quenching a sudden thrist.
Elizabeth was awake enough to better appreciate her circumstances, yet the heightened awareness did not lessen the surging desire that swept her frame. She looked at Bert, who regarded her with an interest born of long-standing denial. He had always wanted her, had been strongly attracted by the voluptuousness of her fully fleshed body ... the firm, heavy teats, the inviting roundness of her hips and buttocks. She had known it, sensed his carefully concealed admiration and enjoyed the unspoken compliments she had seen in his eyes.
Now she lay beside him, naked, their bodies in intimate contact. His cock still lay lodged between her thighs, though its rigidity had receded slightly, and both were momentarily at rest. Still, the attraction remained. A burning lust was glowing like fires banked and waiting only for the stoker's thrust, the addition of further fuel to rekindle its overpowering flood of heat.
Behind Bert's muscular torso, she could see several sleeping forms ... Rod with his back to her, curled about one or both other girls. She couldn't see too clearly, did not possess the energy to raise herself enough to look. Bert handed her the beer and she swallowed the last of it, placing the can on the sand beyond the blanket's edge. Bert moved closer, his lips coming down to enclose hers, and at their touch she ceased what little reasoning she had been capable of doing. Neither did she concern herself over what was planned. Her body existed solely on a sensual level, and pleasure was her only immediate goal or awareness.
While Bert was holding her, working his warm, moist mouth across her throat and into the depressions above her shoulders, Bill returned. She heard the whispered sound of his bare feet on the sand, heard the soft, metallic clink as he kicked the beer can aside. He knelt down behind her, where she really couldn't see him. Her mind registered a darker shadow across her face, and she felt the suggestion of warmth against her upper back. He wasn't touching her, but his nearness caused an aura of bodily heat to caress her skin.
Gently, Bert eased her onto her back, never releasing the pressure of his lips, which now bore down on hers with an intensity that maintained the fire within her. There were soft sounds of movement, but they were beyond the vista of her immediate attention. All that mattered was the continued possession of her lips and the hot swelling that gathered strength and fullness between her legs.
There was a striking sound, and a sudden blaze of light. Darkness, again, and the sweet smell of smoke. Bert lifted his head, and one arm moved to take the cigarette. He drew on it, brought his mouth against hers once again and exhaled the pungent stream. She almost coughed, but the fumes seemed gentle, almost soothing as she responded to their unexpected entry. She took them from him, sucked them into her lungs. Immediately, the dreamy euphoria drifted through her as it had before she slept. Her fears had long since faded, her mind deposed ... abdicating its control to her lower centers of sensation.
Bert's hand still held the cigarette, and he placed it to her lips as he gently pulled away from her. Automatically, she drew on it. The resulting bliss seemed somehow coupled with the rush of cooler air across her belly ... her breasts ... her groin. It was different, not as satisfying as the heavy pressure of his body on top of hers. Still, she knew some other ... some equally pleasurable contact would replace it. She closed her eyes and allowed herself the full moment of anticipation, uncomplicated by cognitive structure.
She was on her back and Bert was lying against her side. His hard, impatient sex was driving its massive demand against her hip. Idly, his fingers wandered across her breasts. Her lips trembled slightly and her intake of breath was a soft, moaning whimper. There was motion against her other side ... cold, rough metal in contact with her stomach. There was the familiar creak of Bill's leather jacket, the cool, smooth surface brushing across her arm. Then he, too, was against her. The metal zipper-track of his open jacket was biting gently into her skin, his body working its way on top of her. She felt the warm leather ... the chaps against her legs, the long, rigid cock that prodded her thighs until she spread them a bit and allowed it to slip between. Then he was fully on top of her and Bert was gone.
Again she sensed the almost silent motion, just beyond the range of her perception. She heard another creaking sound, and knew that Bert was putting on his jacket. The touch of leather against her naked skin was already generating the same, exotic desire she had experienced previously. She was beyond any attempt to fathom the reason; she only knew the effects were real and her arousal was greater than anything she normally felt.
Bill's mouth was all over her, chewing at her neck, pulling at the taut skin above her breasts ... then onto them, sucking and grinding his teeth into her flesh until spasms of pain made her groan. She wanted to tell him to stop, animal sounds that had no definite meaning.
Taking these as pronouncements of acceptance, Bill never slackened his driving domination. Along the sides of her dugs he traced a wet trail, moving across her skin, sliding down the steeply sloping walls like a skier on a mountainside. At the base of one teat he drove his tongue inside the crevice where the fleshy curve turned back upon itself. He laved the salty sweetness within the tender enclosure, twisted his head and brought his jaws to bear upon the yielding flesh. His lips no longer covered the teeth, and the sensation of pain racked her being until a shriek of protest bubbled on her lips.
Before she could project her expression of discomfort, Bert's mouth closed on hers, sealing the sound and filling her once again with the cloying cloud of smoke. Now she did have trouble absorbing it, and she choked against him. But they were too tightly sealed. The heavy, dream-laden smoke floated into her lungs. The pressure on her teats seemed to lessen, and pain dissolved into the warm pressure of hard, male bodies against her.
Bill was humping his loins on hers, dry fucking her as fluid discharges from her cunt lubricated the passage between her thighs, and his cock slid easily along its track. Her arms hung about him as Bert's mouth moved away from hers, and Bill was fully upon her once again. She felt herself being pulled onto her side. There was the slick movement of leather, of flesh across her skin, everything moving within a twisting kaleidoscope of creaking jackets and muscle-hard arms ... legs, taut-ridged belly.
There was warmth and solidarity against her back, a repetition of this all down the front of her. Leather touched the back of her legs, flopped above her, across her arm, encasing her and holding their warmth inside the shield. Hands moved along her side ... whose, she could not define ... didn't care, didn't try to identify. The effect was all that mattered. From either side, now rigid sex slid between her legs and the rhythm of their driving forces was syncopated, uncoordinated. Neither man seemed aware of the other's motion, so it was impossible for her body to react. If she drove her steaming box toward one, she deprived herself of contact with the other. In the end, she didn't try. She allowed her hips to rest, motionless upon the blanket.
It was Bert who lay facing her. She realized this after several moments, because she could feel the coarse bristles of his chest against the tender surfaces of her breasts. She felt him reach between their bodies, fingers prying open the lips of her cunt. The heavy bulb of his penis was pressing, seeking. Tremors shook her frame as hot anticipation caused her glands to run a fresh, heavy deluge of fluids. It must have touched his fingers, because she felt him rubbing the oily secretion across his prick ... sensed the greater ease with which it parted her flesh. He was against the proper entrance, finally, and his gradual penetration was forcing her channel to open wider.
"Oh, God!" she groaned. "Bert ... Bert...." She found his lips, fastened her mouth upon them as the fullness bolted into her. She was filled until it seemed there was no possibility of further sensation. He started pumping slowly, gradually picking up the pace as she now responded full against him. There was no longer any element of uncertainty. She drove her loins in full reciprocation. His thrusting, hammering impalement made her want to turn, to lie on her back where his total weight could crush her, and his penetration would become the ultimate climax of their prolonged interaction.
But Bill was still firmly pressed against her back, his cock still moving between her thighs. She felt the silky moisture of his groin against the back of her body, sliding across her buttocks as he maintained his position against her back. Then his hand was there, as well, his chest and belly no longer holding her, though the flap of his jacket remained across her side and the edge of its zipper rested against her naked skin.
Bert's crushing embrace sustained her position, however, and she did not avail herself of this opportunity to turn. Aware of Bill's motions, she hardly registered them, responding almost exclusively to the fantastic fullness within her cunt. That Bill was applying a heavy coating of her own secretions upon his shaft made no impression on her consciousness ... gave no warning of his intent.
Then she felt his fingers, also heavily coated with the essence of her lubricating fluids. One, then two, they probed the unprotected opening of her anus. She knew what he wanted, remembered with uncertain clarity his previous attempts. Just then, she didn't care. He was causing her no discomfort, and her entire body was too far along the road of soaring abandon. His cockhead slipped between her cheeks, the tip centered where his exploring fingers had been seconds before. Still, she made no protesting motion, and her body propelled itself in unrelenting fury against Bert's straining midsection.
Bill was barely inside her, his inward motion bringing with it the first spark of pain. She had retreated briefly in the interim between Bert's strokes. The backward motion had brought her a fraction further onto Bill's posed and waiting shaft. Pain cascaded through her. A scream started deep within her throat, and its initial shrillness shattered the desert air. Bert's mouth grappled in the dark for hers, locking her lips, sealing them against a further outcry. She felt Bill's cock slide into her, and her body twisted violently against them both as the intensity of pain increased.
He was fully inside her, penetrating her body from the rear, as Bert was doing from in front. Both men were holding tight against her, motionless in this suspended moment of time while she struggled to free herself from the unwanted penetration. She was helpless. She was held immobile, and within her body the sensations of desire were doing battle with the receding fingers of pain. First there was warmth, and this gradually overcame the other ... the negative responses. It was a new kind of fullness, a reciprocation of the other.
The shock of discomfort had partially shattered the shell of her dreamy bliss, but this was closing in upon her once again. Her mind responded to the awareness of her dual penetration. Two hard, full cocks were lodged within her body, and she was sandwiched between the palpitating forms of these two men. She was helpless to resist them ... like the victim of some determined rapist. Rape ... being raped, subjected to another's will ... body filled with man-flesh ... Bert's cock up my cunt, Bill's in my ass ... hurts, but doesn't hurt ... getting used to it ... want it ... want ... need it ... NEED IT!
Abruptly, her struggles ceased. Her mind resolved its swirling confusion as her body accepted its use. She felt Bert pull back, thrust forward to drive his swollen cock deep inside her. Then Bill began to move, and she was buffeted back and forth between them, uncertain now which prick was causing the successive waves of warmth and pleasure she felt within her viscera. She had opened her eyes a few moments before, and this increased the full perception of her circumstances. The wilderness about her ... the blackness of the sky, the twinkling stars ... cool, moving air upon her face and legs ... contrasted with the furnace heat where the double layer of leather lay across her side.
But most of all, she reacted to the possession of her body by the double, hammering, deep-thrust cocks. Two of them! Two strong men taking me at once, giving me all they've got ... fucking me ... grinding against me and making me joined to both of them at once! Her mind touched reality only briefly. The fleeting perception of her surroundings became obscured in waves of deeply-hued color that drifted across her eyes. In her ears was the throbbing beat of her own impending release, and beyond this was only the half-formed certainty of the forces that held her between them.
Bill's naked chest was plastered against her back, sticking to her as streams of sweat poured from both of them. Bert's hairy midsection was sliding across a similar fluid layer. But this was thicker, wetter, far too moist to cause their bodies to adhere. The pressure on her breasts, crushed and battered by the violent, thumping demand of Bert's iron-hard flesh was causing a fresh admixture of pain and pleasure. She was being bruised, rubbed raw by the steel-wool bristles that scraped across her nipples. Somewhere in her mind, somewhere far below the surface of her present ability to function, she knew this. The ecstatic pleasure of the whole suppressed any response to the parts, however, and she flung herself with increasing passion into the interaction.
She was coming! She felt the deep well of dark, unseen lust open within her ... knew her body was on the verge of climax, and still the two, driving shafts were pumping their swollen hardness inside her. The squeeking, crinkling sound of leather mingled with the thudding pulse of her temples, this in turn admixed with the heavy rhythm of both men driving their loins, sinking their ultimate man-flesh into the underside of her body.
Again, she would have cried out as everything seemed to explode inside her. The very lining of her viscera threatened to tear itself loose, to reverse and turn inside-out. Violently, her head whipped back and forth, breaking away from the sucking pressure of lips against hers. Then she did scream, a long, uneven wail that fluttered between tight-clenched jaws, echoing off the cliffs, shattering the stillness of the desert night. Bert tried to quiet her, but the internal wrenching of her organs had driven her into such a frenzy of release she had lost all earthly contact. For the duration of these flesh-bound spasms, her emotions expressed themselves on another plain of existence.
Her display of animal responses excited Bill, whose own sex was near the bursting point. He nestled the side of his face against the twisting muscles of her back, pulling down to avoid the wildly flailing head as he resumed the pounding thrusts of his hips, driving the hardened shaft further into the grasping enclosure. Then Bert resumed as well, pounding groin to groin, mingling the glistening, black hairs of his crotch with the soft, passion-heated blonde.
Lizzy floated on the clouds of release, starting to descend into reality once more, feeling the heavy hardness that impaled her, knowing once again that she was being entered by two desperately driving cocks. For just a second, she felt discomfort. Her flesh tried to warn her of the contusions her lust had permitted it to sustain, and her lower body responded with a flush of heat that reflected more than blind and simple desire. But the moment was too brief, and before her mind could respond, her body was once again lofted on gusts of passion. Within her, control devolved once more upon the purely sensual receptors.
First Bill, then Bert-both men wrapped their arms more tightly about her and drove their cocks the final modicum of distance into the channels that enclosed them. Elizabeth felt her organs building once again toward a spastic tension, knew a second gush of fluids was gathering to propel itself along the corridor where Bert's massive iron was driving toward its own, frantic discharge.
Bill shuddered against her back, his teeth once more seeking purchase, this time again the drum-taut surface above her spine. Somehow he achieved it, his incisors forcing a tiny ripple of skin to permit his gnawing possession. Bert's tongue had pressed into the back of her throat, and the speed of his thudding force foretold his ultimate projection.
Then it came! Bert went rigidly tense against her, and his grip tightened until she could scarcely breathe. He gasped in shallow, sucking cadence as his sperm bolted into her, mingling with the fluid volume of her own discharge. Hardly had he begun, than Bill's groin drove itself to deep-thrust, motionless suspension. Both men were suddenly still, their only movment being the subtle expansion and contraction of their shafts, as two sets of heavy balls pumped their full loads into her.
The thought of it pushed Elizabeth onto the final crest of her rekindled ascent. Her own teeth found the rounded curve of muscle on Bert's shoulder. She closed on it, ground down hard as she flooded his prick with another bolt of juices. He felt the hot, surging tide about his shaft, tipping back his head in the throes of his own ultimate ecstasy, his nerves too involved and overloaded to note the pain of Lizzy's bite.
It was over too soon. Elizabeth's face had been buried beneath the flap of Bert's leather jacket when she seized his shoulder. This slipped away from her as she released her grip and twisted onto her back. Bert was still in her, as was Bill, but both had moved their upper bodies back enough to permit their shoulders contact with the blanket. Bill's cock was softening within her, and she felt it begin to slide out. Finally, the still swollen crown pulled free of her gripping sphincter, and at its sudden release her anus sent forth waves of throbbing soreness. Her breasts were next to proclaim their discomfort, and her throat where the skin had been chewed and bitten.
Bert was rubbing his shoulder where Elizabeth had driven her teeth, and as he turned more fully onto his back, his heavy, half-softened cock slipped loose. Elizabeth felt the flow of mingled juices that seeped out behind it. She glanced down, barely able to perceive the heavy outline across Bert's thigh. Her fingers caressed the flaccid shaft, fondled the balls that had driven it to give her suck total pleasure. She turned her head toward Bill, kissing him lightly on the lips. Then she leaned over Bert, giving him the same. Behind him, she saw the others still asleep.
Bill had drawn close to her again, and she felt his cock already regaining its strength against her hip. "Easy," she whispered.
"Ah, come on," he urged. "You're good for another round."
"Not right now," she replied. Slipping free of his hands, she jumped to her feet and raced toward the water. The freezing fluid closed about her as she arched her body into a dive, and swam for several seconds beneath the surface.
When her head broke free again, she saw the two men had followed her. What a wonderful weekend! she thought. They've showed me things I'd never even thought about, and I've functioned like never before in all my life! Now a nice, easy swim ... be all clean and fresh. I'll sleep between them, feel them next to me all night ... I'm so alive now!
CHAPTER TEN
She returned to the blanket, finding a towel in the collection of things Bill had brought down the hill. She saw Rod curled about Patsy's body, with Mona lying against her on the other side. As Elizabeth began to dry herself, she began recalling what had happened earlier in the evening. The nebulous euphoria of the marijuana had worn off, its final effects being erased by her plunge into the cold waters of the pond.
Patsy had gone down on her! She remembered that now. This tall, elegantly beautiful girl had shoved her head between Elizabeth's legs and eaten her pussy while the men had been ... doing other things to her. She shook her head as she gazed down at the sleeping model. It had been an exciting, sensual experience, yet ... wrong? Can I call it wrong? Can I call anything ... that any ofusdo ... really wrong? The idea may be repulsive, but ... She felt her cunt twitch at the recall, and she quickly finished drying herself.
He whole body ached, and especially her boobs. Her nipples were raw and so sore she could hardly touch them.
Her asshole, too, she realized. She wondered if she'd be able to sit for the hundred mile return. And Bert had stretched her cunt with that huge cockhead. The labia throbbed, and her clit was just as sensitive as her teats. I'm a mess! Well, a good night's rest and maybe I'll be healed enough to move in the morning. She lay on the blanket, waiting for the two men to finish their swim and come up from the water.
She must have dozed the moment her head touched the ground. She had not heard Bill and Bert return from their swim, and was completely unaware of anything until she felt someone fondling her naked skin. She had pulled a corner of the blanket across her legs and snuggled down beneath one of the leather jackets. Now she was completely bare, and chilly air was moving across her. Sleepily, she opened one eye to see Bill kneeling beside her. At this indication of awakening, he immediately swung a leg across her groin and settled on top of her pubis.
"Oh," she groaned. "Not right now, baby. Let me get some sleep, huh? I've had it!"
He didn't go away, and she awakened enough to look down the length of her body. Her teats leaned slightly to either side, leaving a channel through which she could see his patch of blond pubic hair. Above her belly, standing out like a massive cannon, Bill's cock made clear proclamation of his intent. But Elizabeth was far beyond any ability to respond. Her body was completely drained and she was sore, aching from the abuse she had endured in the course of the evening's lovemaking.
"Come on, Bill," she insisted. "Let me sleep now. Later, maybe. Tomorrow." She saw Bert hovering above and behind her, his naked body blotting out the sky when she twisted her eyes upward in their sockets to see him. "Bert, make him stop," she pleaded. "Maybe Patsy, or Mona...."
Wordlessly, Bert came down on his knees. His groin was directly above her face, and she could see the wicked-looking extension of his penis. He was just as hard as Bill. She tried to see his face, but his heavy sac was just above her eyes. She was about to protest again, when Bert grabbed her face, his rough hands grating against the sensitive skin as he pulled her lips apart and hunched his body to bring his cock against her tightly-clenched teeth.
"No ... stop...!" she managed, but that was all. When she spoke her jaw had moved enough that Bert was able to drive his hardened penis into her. Now his hairy groin was poised above her face, and before she could make a further response he shoved the full, massive length of his cock down her throat.
She made a muffled squeal of angry demand. But that was all she could do. His hands had pinned her wrists, and his thighs were pressed against either side of her head. His plunging cock was choking her, strangling her, as it cut off any possibility of verbal protest.
Bill's face came down against her midsection, his tongue and lips drawing at the skin around her navel as he doubled his body to drive his knees between her thighs and bring the upper part of his stomach against her pubic area.
Frantically, she tried to fight them off. She didn't want sex, and nothing they could do to her was going to turn her on right then. Besides, the pressing fullness of Bert's cock within her mouth was cutting off her wind, and her fear became unreasoned terror as she realized she was strangling. But the more she struggled, the more she seemed to arouse them. They were determined to have her, regardless of her wishes.
Her mind was clear, now, fully awake and alert. Hanging at the edge of her consciousness, however, were the dark, hovering clouds of oblivion. Though fear contorted her reason, she was in just enough control to know her only hope lay in arousing Rod. Abruptly, she stopped struggling. Almost immediately, she felt Bill's hands relax against her hips. He evidentally assumed her capitulation. Bert's prick lifted enough for her to draw some air into her lungs, giving her a brief respite before it crashed into her again. This was just enough. It gave her the strength she required.
Without warning, she lashed out with her feet, raising her hips to strike Bill and throw him momentarily off balance. Bert half toppled, too, but maintained his grasp on either side of her head. One leg was free, and with this she reached across to drive her foot firmly against Rod's spine.
She could not see what had been accomplished, as Bill quickly repositioned her buttocks against the blanket, lying against her with his arms across her thighs and his full weight depressing her lower quarters. His tongue was well inside her cunt, probing her stretched, tortured membranes. Bert pulled her arms beneath his knees, holding them in place to free his own hands. These now grappled with her breasts, squeezing and kneading them in an attempt to enflame her flagging passions.
"Hey, what's going on?" It was Rod's voice, barely audible because Bert's thighs were sealed so tightly against her ears. She wrenched her body in another frantic effort to free herself. Bert's cock slipped just far enough out of her throat that her teeth were able to close along the shaft.
"Ow!" he roared. He pulled back as she loosened her grip, and Elizabeth was able to twist her head free of it completely.
"Rod!" she called. "Tell 'em to take it easy," she gasped.
She felt Bert release her, and Bill's head also came free from her pussy. She sat up, glaring at them, but holding back the anger that surged through her brain. Rod was kneeling in front of her, and the other girls were looking up sleepily from the adjoining blanket.
She crawled to her husband and put her arms around him, pulling him down against her without offering another word of explanation. No use getting everybody upset, she thought. Her fury was melting away. They just went a little too far, but I let myself in for it. My own fault ... no one else's....
Rod's body snuggled against hers, but neither of them was quite ready to fall asleep again. Elizabeth was wide awake as a result of the dual assault. Rod was aroused by their intimate contact, and his prick was responding to its contact against her pubis. There was movement above and around them, but Elizabeth did not look up. She heard one of the girls-Patsy, she thought, mutter something in agreement to Bill's rumbling suggestion. This sound came from in back of Rod. A moment after this, she felt someone lie down behind her, and then the warm surface moved away.
For a long while, she lay against Rod, feeling his chest fill and swell against her, his lips move softly, lovingly across her face. He kissed her eyelids, her forehead ... brushed a few wisps of hair back from her face as his hand caressed the tip and sides of her head. Behind her, and on the other side of Rod's body she could hear the sliding motion of the others. Someone sighed ... groaned Again, there was the pressure of moving flesh against her back ... warm, slightly sticky as it clung briefly upon her, pulled free, touched again.
Rod's swollen hardness was still pressed against her, and she knew he was aroused. She was not really ready for him, but had already decided she could not deny him ... not if he wants me instead of Mona or Patsy. If he wants to make it with me, I'll let him ... not the others, but Rod....
He snaked an arm beneath her, pulled her to him ... under him. His heavy frame spread across her torso, his cock resting between his hard-walled belly and her thigh. He was only half on top of her, but his head was directly over hers, allowing her a view toward either side as his lips pressed gently on hers, once more. She returned his kisses, dispassionately at first, and then with increasing sincerity as she felt her body slowly begin responding. In the very depths of her womb, the willingness was expressing itself in a warm, outward spread of acceptance.
To her left was Bill, lying on his back while Patsy lay on top of him. As Elizabeth watched, the taller girl eased up until she sat astride Bill's slender hips. Reaching down, she played with his penis, where its extended mass was striving against her crotch. At last she raised herself enough to permit the springy hardness to stand upright, its tip grazing her waiting labia. She settled down on it, hissing as she drew air, obviously feeling every iota of the penetration, and making the entry slow enough that no suggestion of sensation might be lost.
On her other side, Elizabeth saw Bert with Mona, their bodies side by side as they drove their mouths against one another in a frantic sixty-nine. The young policeman's back was toward her, and she watched the play of muscles along his spine as he drove his groin against the girl, and responded with his own return of the sucking, drawing motion along the cleft of his partner's cunt. Mona's dainty fingers, white against the swarthy strength of Bert's broad shoulders, were pressing their tips hard against him, finally driving her nails into his skin as her passions rose beyond her ability to completely control them.
Rod was observing the others' interactions, as well, as was indicated by the increasing pressure of his soaring erection on Lizzy's leg. As yet, she had not responded with any definite encouragement. Respecting this, Rod restrained his demands. Gentle. That's the way he is ... so damned considerate. Less exciting sometimes, because of it ... but in the long run ... for a husband ... that's how it ought to be. That's why I love him, I guess, regardless of how I've given myself to others. With them it's lust. With Rod ... Her face rose to meet his, and Rod wrapped his arms about her to bring his hands behind her head, supporting it and relieving the strain of her holding it up.
His hips had slipped full across her, and his legs had dropped between her knees. His great, iron-hard mast was still between them, but as he eased her thighs apart, she felt the full, heavy weight of his sac come to rest upon the cleft of her snatch. The warm, solid form of his testicles hanging within the open folds became the key to her rejuvenation. Already resigned to giving herself to him, Elizabeth now found her body anxious to return his love. Love! I want his love ... want it in me, on top of me ... and more ... much more!
It was almost on her lips to say it, but it seemed dreadfully out of place. How could she speak of love when she had just given herself to a pair of other men, had her cooze eaten out by another woman? No, plenty of time to say it later. Just now, she'd tell him with her body.
Rod's hands ... big, rough-surfaced hands began plying their warmth along her sides. He threatened to crush her ribs, as he ceased to bear any weight on his arms or legs. His hairy chest was grating on the raw flesh of her teats as he moved against her, but she didn't try to stop him. Instead, the very element of pain became an expression of what she found herself unable to phrase in words. Her arms went above his neck and she repositioned her thighs, pressing on his nuts until she felt them slide within their sac. He grunted uncomfortably and she slackened off, allowing them to hang freely once again, then bounce against her slit as she shifted her hips, trying to encourage Rod to slide his cock between her legs.
"Okay?" he whispered.
"Yes," she gasped. "Anything you want."
He slipped his hand across her nest, positioned his prick against her slit while his fingers fumbled for her clitoris. She was dry, she realized, and that was strange. First time tonight. Wonder ... Rod soon had the situation rectified. His thumb and forefinger gripped the tiny nub, and she gushed forth a deluge of lubricating fluid. He kissed her again while his fingers played with the stiffening flesh, feeling the moisture which announced her readiness.
When Rod entered her, it was the most peculiarly thrilling sensation of the evening. Despite the depleted condition of her body, the painful abrasions that throbbed every time he touched them, having his cock inside her created such a warmth of feeling she forgot about the rest. She lay back, completely relaxed except for the involuntary responses. These were so automatic, she never had to think about them. The gentle, continuous thrusting of his shaft along her channel was an easy, pleasant feeling that demanded nothing of her. And at just this moment, it was a very welcome contrast.
She glanced to her side, where Patsy was still sitting on Bill's long, jutting cock. The lovely, almost fragile girl was bouncing against his loins with such a bestial ferocity that she was causing Bill to groan and twist in a frenzy of sensation. His hands gripped her thighs, and Lizzy could see his fingers pressing so hard against the straining muscles his digits were deeply depressed into the flesh. Patsy's hands were on his shoulders, as if she were a wrestler holding her opponent on the mat. Her small, conical breasts swayed in continuous motion.
Adding to her savage aspect, Patsy's hair was completely disheveled, standing out from her head and framing her face with dark, disordered strands. The darkness restricted any perception of color, so what Lizzy saw was mostly blacks and grays. The smooth skin along the model's sides flowed over and across her ribs, as the violent motions of her body drove her steaming cunt against Bill's erection.
As Elizabeth watched this other girl's obvious enjoyment of what she did with Bill, the recollection of tantalizing possession by those same lips against her own pussy evoked fresh images in her mind. Instead of the massive, tubular ram that thundered into her at that moment, her folds had been caressed by a darting, pinkish tongue. The long narrow tip had prodded and teased inside the labia, poked about the entrance to her vagina. The full, fleshy lips had grasped her clit and twisted it between them.
Her mental picture shifted abruptly as Rod shoved particularly deep, driving his loins hard against her. She formed the image of his great, blueveined shaft ... the beet-red crown that drove apart her expectant, trembling, inner folds and probed the deep rose of her opening. Glistening with her secretions, it had slipped inside, drowning in the rush of fluid that bolted forth to greet it. Now, the dark hair of his groin ... his balls ... were tangled with hers. She could feel the heavy orbs against her as the fullness of his sac rode up and down with every motion of his plunging hips.
She twisted her head to face the other way. There, she saw Mona on her back, tiny and dwarfed by heavy musculature as Bert's strongly built form hovered over her. The policeman's head was closest to them, and Elizabeth could see his tongue as he performed the same act on Mona which Patsy had done with her. She could almost feel the heat of his breath upon her cunt, so violent was his beating motion. Glancing farther down, her line of vision running directly along the side of Rod's flexing chest and waist, she saw Bert's big prick, its massive crown hidden within the distended cheeks of Mona's face. She saw his loins drop against her, heard the strangled response, remembering that only moments before she had done the same. But Mona was enjoying it, taking his shaft with eager willingness.
Rod clamped his arms around her, bringing his face down on hers. His breath was coming in short, hard gasps which foretold his mounting passions. Watching the others had increased her own receptive sensitivity. Her legs moved up, fastening about him so his cock sunk still deeper in her cunt, and he groaned at this additional element of pleasurable contact. His chest was grinding against her tender nipples, and she felt his tongue soothing the tortured surfaces about her throat.
"I'm coming!" he whispered suddenly. "Oh, Jesus, Lizzy! I'm going to shoot ... uh!" He groaned as if his entire body were being crushed within some massive press as the very roots of his sex expanded in response to the almost painful force of his discharge. His balls pulled tight about the base of his cock, while the gushing release spurted past her cervix, firing his seed into the depths of her womb.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Over a month had passed since their return from the desert campsite. The summer's heat had started in earnest a couple of days before, and the air conditioner in Rod and Elizabeth's apartment had been running almost constantly. It was now late afternoon, a Saturday, and Elizabeth had slipped into a warm tub of water after doing her usual weekend cleaning. The apartment had been kept so chilly by the efficiency of their cooling system, that she hardly realized the outside temperature. She had run the water as hot as she could stand it, and eased her body into the steaming, fragrant bath.
As she lay back in the tub, just soaking and permitting her mind to drift into whatever channels it chose, she found herself dwelling on the experiences in the wilds. Nor was this unusual. While her body had healed so it no longer pained her to wear lingerie or to bear the weight of a sheet against her teats at night, her memories had returned at nearly every opportunity to conjure up the images of her strange experience.
What troubled her most, perhaps, was the final scene with Bert. It angered her, still, to think of his needless cruelty ... his total lack of self-control. She blamed it on the marijuana, certain he would never have behaved this way ordinarily. Then, adding to the sum total of her discomfort, was the fact that she could not help being stimulated by the recall.
She pictured Bert's heavy cock, with its great, bulbous head, remembered how it had driven into her with a force that threatened to strangle her. When he had lain on top of her, pumping his loins against her cunt, the sensation had been fantastic. It had left her sore for days, but this much was pleasant ... almost enough to make her forgive his other actions.
She thought of the other sensations she had experienced with the other couples ... the wild feeling when Patsy had worked on her. Elizabeth tried to compare this with the results of Rod's or Bill's ministrations. Each was different from the others, she realized. Though all of them had succeeded in driving her into a blind frenzy of desire, viewed from the safety of time and distance she could define the variations. Whereas Patsy had licked and probed her with an intuitive knowledge of exactly what response she created, the men had gone at it with a heavier, grosser touch. Of the two, of course, Rod was by far the gender.
She tought of the demands Bill had made upon her, the sixty-nine for instance. She had done this with Rod since their return, but only when she indicated a desire to take his penis into her mouth. Otherwise, he might work a long while on her, never once indicating he wished a reciprocating.
She leaned her head against the procelain edge, fumbling in the soap dish. She started rubbing the scented bar along her arms, across her chest. Her heavy teats were floating, their red-tipped nipples just even with the water's level. It was such a relief to have them healed-to be able to wear a bra, or allow Rod to pinch them when he put his arms about her to sleep.
She sat up, peering through the door to see the clock on her nightstand. Red would be coming home any minute. He had suggested they might see Bill and Mona tonight. It was Saturday, and they had not been together ... not for more than a movie, since the camping trip. This had been Elizabeth's doing, mostly, although Rod had sensed her hesitancy and not pressed the issue. She was giving him all he wanted and more. It was strange, she thought. She was making demands upon him now, unlike their previous relationship ... even before her troubles, when Rod had always been the aggressor, always the one to indicate his desire first.
Well, that's as it should be. Marriage is a partnership, isn't it? Don't I have as much right to get it when I want it as he does? Says I'm getting horny ... and I guess I am. She smiled to herself, thinking of the last couple of weeks. Rod had been put on a night shift for a few days, which had completely changed their living habits. They had slept during the day, awakening in the early afternoon ... making love while daylight filtered through the drapes instead of in the darkness.
The most amusing aspect was the discovery that their neighbors did the same. The elderly couple whose bedroom wall abutted theirs had made the scene several times while Rod and Lizzy were in bed to hear them. The squeaky springs of the old bed never failed to proclaim the winter passions, and once they had heard the series of rhythmic bouncings come twice ... separated by about a half hour interval.
"The old boy's really going at it," Rod remarked. "Imagine what he must have been like in his prime," she replied.
Both of them had laughed, though the sounds had created reciprocal desires within them, and they had gone at it with unusual ferocity while the other couples still provided an appropriate background.
She heard the front door open and quickly rinsed the soap from her skin. The sound of Rod's motorcycle boots were resounding through the front room, into the kitchen as she stepped from the tub and began drying herself. She was still standing on the bathmat, just rubbing the water from her hair, when he entered the bedroom. "Hi," he called through the open door.
She looked at him. It was obviously warm outside. Rod's face was sweaty, although the air conditioner was working. He still wore his leather jacket, the whiteribbed uniform pants tucked into shiny boots. She flushed inwardly, her mind recalling other leather ... and unfortunately other men. II he'd just ... not be so considerate! Not all the time.
He started to take his jacket off. "Don't," she called before she thought to check herself.
Rod turned, looked at her questioningly. "Don't what?" he asked.
It's done, now. Go ahead! Tell him what you want! "I just thought ... it might be fun," she faltered.
Rod chuckled, his face going red. "Motorcycle cops turn you on, huh?" he asked lightly.
"One particular cop does," she said.
She stepped through the doorway, dropping the towel behind her, and moved nakedly into his arms. The creaking leather enfolded her, pressed against her skin while she tilted her face up and Rod bent to kiss her. She pressed hard against his groin, feeling his arousal through the thick material. That machine always makes him more receptive. she thought. Guess that's one of the fringe benefits, if one knows enough to take advantage of it. Hot and horny after a full day over that throbbing motor ... must ride around with a constant erection....
His open jacket surrounded her, and she was pressed against the coarse material of his uniform shirt, the buttons and the buckle of his belt cutting into her. One nipple was shoved ... flattened upon the uneven surface of his badge. There was a suggestion of pain ... no more than that; yet Rod was aware of it.
"Just a second," he whispered. Gently, he disengaged himself and while she stood watching ... at first in disappointment, and then in burgeoning excitement as she realized his intent ... Rod stripped off his jacket, and after this his shirt. Quickly, he discarded boots and uniform trousers ... shorts. For a moment he was naked, a light layer of sticky, half-dried sweat making his skin display a ruddy sheen. Then he pulled the jacket on, leaving it open so the bristly, hair-covered chest and midsection were only partially covered. He pulled the wide, black belt from his pants and fastened it around his waist.
"Do I look silly enough for you?" he asked.
"Sexy enough," she replied. Her eyes strayed in the direction of his boots, but he made no move to replace them on his feet.
Good enough ... more than enough! Crazy, but ... She was against him once more, this time pressing her fresh, scented skin against the musky, man-sweat hardness of him. His arms were full around her torso, the open flaps of his jacket holding the mingled frangrances of them both ... dainty, flower-scented bath powder and the bitter pungency of his eight hours on the bike. His grip was firm but gentle, as always.
"I won't break," she whispered. "Make me know ... you care about me ... do whatever you want ... anything...."
She couldn't see his face because he was holding her head tightly against the hairy forest on his chest. His response to her words was to squeeze more tightly, finally lifting her, crushing her fast while he turned and shoved her down across the bed. He placed one large hand against her crotch, grasping the flesh of one thigh as he shoved her high on the mattress.
For a moment she saw his expression ... intent and determined, but no more than his. His face did not prepare her for his literal interpretation of her request. Roughly, he threw himself on top of her, fastening his mouth upon her neck and down to her shoulders, her teats ... exerting a pressure with his jaws that almost made her want to cry out. His prick shoved against the underside of her cunt, and almost before she realized it he had maneuvered himself into position, rammed his massive sex deep inside her. The passage was not fully lubricated, so his entry was harsh, painful ... exciting, though, and so arousing she wrapped herself about him, nipping his lips, biting at his chin as his hard, ponderous weight held her in place and his cock began plunging in and out of her. Fluids were flowing by then, and his pentration was no longer painful.
He never spoke, simply used her in whatever manner came to mind, never pausing, never asking. Her responses to him were equally violent, each of them assuming the proper role. Rod was dominating her, raping her almost, and she was giving in to him. The strong, leathery odor filled her nostrils. The brass buckle of his belt ground repeatedly into her stomach, jarring her every time his massive organ sank fully into her vagina, his loins and upped thighs slapping furiously against her pubis.
She groaned in a mixture of passion and contentment.
It's Rod; it's Rod! More than that ... more ... Bill and Bert and every other man I've ever looked at and admired. He's fucking me ... fucking! Raping me! "Oh! Oh!" she moaned.
"Wait. Not yet," he whispered. Immediately, he increased the pace of his beating rhythm. Sweat dripped off him, heavy droplets falling on her face ... on her breasts when he rose up to grasp one nipple between his teeth. He bit down on it, wrenched it back and forth while she racked from side to side, her fingers digging into the leather covering on his back. Her feet flopped in the air, ankles crossed as she tightened about his narrow hips, heels striking his ass as he drew up to ram another hard, deep stroke against her.
He exhaled in a violent, roaring gasp, dropped his chest on top of her and turned his face sideways to hers, fitting his open mouth against her, pulling the air from her lungs as he sank his prick to its fullest and left it there, boring into her with all his weight, all his power pouring down the throbbing channel.
When he relaxed, and the sweat-drenched leather had been discarded, she leaned across him. Her lips traced wide patterns through the wet, plastered hairs on his chest and belly. "That was for real," she whispered.
"Always," he mumbled. "With you, always," he replied. His voice rumbled from deep inside his diaphragm, vibrating against her lips.
"No," she told him. "I don't mean that. It was the greatest ever, but it's something more. I hope this is the time ... the real one...."
"You left me about a mile back," he replied lazily. He heaved a heavy sigh, reached up to stroke her hair as she kept laving his midsection, kissing him, drawing clumps of hair between her lips, pulling on them until they stood, tips curling like large, black question marks.
"If this is the time," she said, "it means we'll have a child of love. That's always supposed to be the best, you know. The baby that arrives exactly nine months after the wedding. That's always such a child, and if ... "
"You sneak!" he shouted, laughing and bolting into a sitting position. "How long since you stopped taking the pill?"
"I forgot them when we went camping," she said. "Oh, Jesus...."
"No, no ... no problem," she assured him. "It takes a few days for them to stop working. No, if there's a baby it'll be yours."
"I never knew how sneaky you could be!" He cuffed her gently on the hip. "Guess we'd better call Bill and Mona, tell 'em it's off for tonight," he added.
"Couldn't we just have a nice, social evening?"
Rod scratched his ear. "Yeah, I guess we could. But I still better call them and make sure they understand...."
CHAPTER TWELVE
It was Spring again, and the weather was growing warmer. Bill had called a few days before, asking if they'd like to spend a weekend on their old campsite. Lizzy had taken the call, and told him she'd ask Rod.
"If a baby-sitter's a problem...." Bill had started.
"Oh, no," Elizabeth assured him. "Rod's mother can stay with him. We'll talk it over tonight, and if ... "
"Well, I don't mean we have to...." he faltered, and she was amused at the embarrassed tone of his voice. "You know, we don't have to...."
"Fuck," she finished for him. "I know, doll, I know."
When Rod came home she mentioned it to him, and he looked at her with a disturbed, uncertain expression. "Do you want to?" he asked.
"I don't know," she replied honestly. She regarded him thoughtfully and shrugged.
Rod put his arm around her. "You really are the greatest, Lizzy," he said. "The others. ... well, none of 'em can hold a candle to you."
His voice and expression were so sincere, she felt like laughing and crying all at once. "It's best, doing it with the person you love," she agreed. "That's what makes it so good...." She broke off, allowing her words to hang, her thought unfinished.
"But, if you want to," Rod continued, "it might be fun to go ... just for the trip and the staying out a couple of nights."
"What if ... something happens?" she asked seriously.
"Nothing's going to happen, unless we want it to," he said firmly.
"I'm back on the pill, you know."
"Well, shit! We've had 'em over a dozen times. We've been over there. Nothing's going to happen," he insisted. He didn't sound quite as sure as his words implied, and again she smiled at him.
"I'm not arguing," she told him. "If you want to go, I'll perch on that ... vibrator, and go."
"But do you want to?" he demanded.
She thought a moment, not looking at him. "Yes," she said at length. "Yes, I'd like to go."
There was some discussion between the four of them, deciding whether they would say anything to Bert, or not. As he was no longer Rod's partner, it would not be necessary for him to know about Rod's time off until he was actually gone. The men were both agreeable that he should be asked, but surprisingly enough it was Mona who spoke up first, opposing the idea. "He's too rough," she said. "I saw what they did to Lizzy ... or tried to." She looked accusingly at Bill. "You're bad enough on your own," she added. "With Bert, you get like a maniac. You're apt to hurt someone."
Bill and Rod both looked at Elizabeth, as if the final decision were up to her. "Well, I really don't care," she told them, "but if he comes, one of you better stay awake until he's safely sacked out with whoever he brings with him."
"Okay," said Bill, laughing. "No Bert and no hanky-panky. Agreed?"
"Agreed," said Rod. The two women looked at each other and smiled.
The campsite was very much as they remembered it, except the Parks Department had enlarged the area. There were two more fireplaces, these built in a second clearing within the same clump of trees. The road leading in had been oiled since the rains, which Bill remarked was not an auspicious sign. "Some tourists'll see that, and we may have Ma and Pa Kettle move in on us."
"Whatever turns you on," Mona giggled. "You're supposed to behave yourself, anyway. Remember?"
"Oh, yes. Scout's honor," said Bill. He saluted her across the crotch, made a loud farting sound with his lips, and smacked her across the butt. "Okay, squaw! Get with it and fix 'em big feed," he said.
He and Rod jogged the hill after that, looking for wood-or so they said. "Bill's got a pocketful of hash," Mona whispered. "You better stay close to Rod."
"They aren't going to try it down there, are they?" asked Elizabeth in alarm. "I mean, I thought you needed a water pipe, or something with it."
Mona shook her head. "No, matter-of-fact Bill's been mixing it with regular tobacco and smoking it in a pipe. I don't like it, but he thinks it's really the end!"
"That's all we need is two hopped-up husbands trying to climb that hill," said Lizzy. She kept watching for the men to return as she and Mona unpacked the bags of food and generally set up the camp. They spread their things out to occupy two fireplaces, but the other side of the clearing was available to anyone who might arrive.
They had everything ready, and it was growing dark. Still the men had not come back. Finally, Mona took a flashlight from Bill's bike and they started down the way their husbands had gone. The trail had been overgrown in several places since their last visit, but with some mutual assistance they managed to make the bottom without mishap. Mona had just cupped her hands about her mouth to call, when Lizzy pointed toward the far side of the pond. "Look at them," she said in disgust. "Naked as jaybirds, sitting on that ledge passing the pipe back and forth between them."
They made their way to the water's edge, just as the final glow was fading from the sky. It had been a bit lighter in the open than under the trees. Now, there was little difference, although a thin, crescent moon was graudally rising into the heavens. "Just what are you two doing?" called Mona.
"We're sunning ourselves on Lizzy's rock," Bill replied.
"Oh, they're terrible!" said Mona.
"Well, it was my rock last year," said Elizabeth. "Hey, look! They left their clothes over here when they swam across."
"That must have been some trick, getting the hash and pipe and matches all across there, safe and dry," Mona remarked. She had missed whatever point Elizabeth was making about the clothes until she saw her friend start tying the shirts and jeans in knots. Once she realized what Lizzy was up to, she helped her, dipping the clothes into water to make the knots tighter.
"You guys better get back pretty soon if you want anything to eat," Mona told them.
"And bring some wood," added Elizabeth.
"Why don't you stay and have a swim?" asked Bill.
"Not now, not with you two dope-fiends," Mona replied. "Come on, now; we're going back to camp."
Giggling, the two girls started back the steep ascent. "Maybe we should have gone for a swim," said Lizzy. "I'm sweating like a pig."
"We can go in later," Mona replied. "Im not sure I want to get very near either one of them right now."
"They did look awfully happy, didn't they?" said Elizabeth.
They reached the top of the trail, and were leaning against a tree to catch their breath when Mona looked up toward the camp. "Oh-oh," she said. "Looks like we've got company."
Lizzy followed her gaze, and sure enough! There was a light on the empty side of the campgrounds, apparently a Coleman lantern. As they struggled up the final few feet, they heard the sound of voices and saw a fire blazing in one of the other hearths. "Well, we weren't going to play naughty-naughty, anyway," said Elizabeth. "Maybe they'll be perfectly nice people."
Elizabeth reached level ground ahead of Mona, and saw their neighbors. There were two couples, neither of which seemed much over twenty-one. They had made quite an elaborate camp, with a tent and charcoal burner. The four young people had arrived in a pickup with a camper on the back, which presumably offered a second set of sleeping quarters. If they saw Elizabeth emerge into the clearing, they gave no indication of it. She was standing in the shadows, watching them, when Mona caught up with her.
"Well, at least they're under ninety," she said.
They got busy, then, stoking up their fire and setting out plates of food. They were going to have hamburgers, but the girls were afraid to start the meat until their husbands actually appeared. Mona opened a can of beer, which they shared as they waited.
One of the boys in the adjoining group spotted them at about this point, and waved. "Hi!" called Mona. "Looks like you folks have a palance and a half over there."
"We believe in having all the comforts," said one of the girls. "Are you by yourselves?"
"No, we have two husbands down the slope," Elizabeth replied.
This seemed to surprise the other, because they spoke softly between themselves, and the two women could not hear them. Whatever the problem was, it seemed resolved in a few moments, and one of the boys walked over to their side of the clearing. He was a nice-looking young man, slender, with light brown hair about the same length as Bill's. He was wearing a pair of Levi's, cut off above the knees, and a T-shirt. At first, Elizabeth thought he was barefoot, until she saw he had on white leather sandles.
"Listen," he said, "if you two want to join us, come on. We've got plenty to eat, and...."
"Oh, no ... really! We are waiting for our husbands," Lizzy insisted.
Apparently, the young man did not believe them, and continued trying to persuade them to join his group. As they spoke, the other boy and one of the girls followed their companion, all five people standing about the campfire, speaking in low tones as the odors of roasting meat floated across the clearing.
"Hey! That smells good ... Oh, Jesus Christ!"
At the sound, all of them turned to see Rod, with Bill close behind him frozen in surprise just within the circle light. Both men were still stark naked, carrying their wadded clothes in their hands. Bill recovered his senses first, and ducked behind a tree. Rod continued to stand where he was, staring at the three strangers. Finally, both boys started to laugh, and the girl joined them. "It's okay," she said. "I guess we've all seen naked wood nymphs before."
"Those are satyrs, dear," Lizzy corrected her. "Come on Lord Godiva," she called. "Come here and meet our new neighbors."
Mona found two pairs of clean jeans in their baggage and took them to the men, both of whom now lurked in the shadows beyond the circle of light. Having recaptured a semblance of dignity, Bill and Rod joined the circle of lighthearted people. After this, they agreed to pool their resources and have dinner together. The newcomers, it seemed, were two married couples who shared an apartment in the city. The boys, Alex and Frank, were students, working part-time jobs, while the two girls were secretaries at a medical center. Carol was twenty, and Joanne was nineteen. Both young men were twenty-two.
"I didn't know there was a place you could swim down there," said Alex. "Have you folks been here before?"
"Bill's been coming here for several years," said Mona. "He brought me last June, and the spring before that."
"It's a great place," said Joanne.
Once they finished eating, there was a long period during which nothing much was said. The women busied themselves cleaning up, and when they finished this, the conversation seemed to end.
"Ah ... I don't know what you ... er, have you guys ever tried...?" Bill stumbled to a halt, and looked helplessly at Rod.
"Well, if they don't partake, there's not much they can do about it-not up here," said Rod. "What my friend is trying to ask you," he told the others, "is whether you groovy people dig pot?"
"Hash," Bill corrected him.
"Hash, pot ... what's the difference?" laughed Rod.
"The point is, we have a little stash, and we're not above sharing the wealth if the folks dig the scene."
"Hallelujah!" shouted Frank. "You just solved a big problem. Go dig it up," he told Joanne. "You see, when you guys showed up over there," he explained, "we buried our jar of goodies. Sure, we'd love to join you, but we probably got a bigger supply than you."
Joanne returned a few moments later, carrying a gallon jar almost full of marijuana.
"Jesus, m'beads!" laughed Rod. "You've got the national treasure there!"
"Well, we made a nice little border run a couple weeks back," said Frank. "And since it's cheap down there, we got all we could afford. Then, with the prices being what they are up here, we were afraid to leave it home while we were gone."
"I'm afraid we're going to be gone," muttered Mona.
"It looks that way," Elizabeth agreed.
Within the space of a very few minutes, cigarettes and pipes were going the rounds. Elizabeth made sparing use of the rollies, and passed up the pipe completely. Still, she felt herself drifting into the familiar state of pleasant lethargy. Mona, sitting close to Bill, was also showing the effects of the sweet, pungent smoke. Rod and Bill, never completely down from their previous high, were laughing and calling back and forth, almost from the beginning.
The four youngsters, whom Elizabeth had never quite been able to match into their proper pairs, were lying on top of sleeping bags. But whether this was their usual, marital division or not, was difficult to say. Alex, the young man who had originally come into their camp, had not forgotten about the pond. "I think we ought to all go down for a swim," he suggested. "It's going to stay warm, I think, and I know I could use a little dip. How 'bout it?"
The rest of his group was all for it, and much to Elizabeth's chagrin, so were Rod and Bill. When they stood up to join the others, Mona sighed and agreed to go with them. This left Elizabeth to either go along or stay in camp by herself. In the end, she gave in, following Rod as he and Bill led the chattering, joking group down the steep, sandy incline.
Once they reached the pool, all of them were sweating. The air seemed warmer on the desert floor than on the ledge above. Alex kicked off his sandals and poked one toe into the water. "Cold," he said. He pulled off his T-shirt and started to wade in, still dressed in his shorts.
Both Bill and Rod had stepped to one side, and paying no attention to the others, had shucked their clothes and headed bare-assed toward the pond before Alex had garnered the nerve to get in all the way. He turned when he heard them splash in a few feet away, and stared a moment in astonishment.
Bill noticed his expression and called out, laughing, before he dove into the center. "They've seen it all before!"
Alex looked back at his group, and Joanne shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I guess it's the style," she said. She was dark, and a little on the heavy side. When Alex backed out of the water and dropped his shorts onto the pile of his other clothes, she starting to unhook her halter.
"Are you really going to?" asked Carol in surprise.
"Sure, why not?" She quickly stripped and made a dash for the water, her round, white buttocks jiggling as she jumped and squealed at the cold contact.
Mona was next, and after her Frank cast his polo shirt and jeans beside Alex' collection. Elizabeth had seated herself on a large stone, unlacing her boots while the others made for the water. She noticed Frank's rather exceptional build, however. Must be a weight-lifter, she thought. You don't get washboard stomach muscles like that without working at it. Carol's a pretty little thing, too. Must be Frank's wife ... think they were paired off, anyway. Doesn't look like they swap around, either ... too embarrassed at the idea of stripping in front of one another. Still, living in the same apartment and all ... Well, none of my business.
She had her shoes off, and stood to unzip her jeans. Although she really didn't like wearing them, she had given in to practical considerations. Last time she had scratched her legs quite badly against the underbrush. With the other damages she had sustained, they had hardly bothered her.
They were all in the water, swimming across the small pond and back in just a few strokes. Bill had pulled himself out on the other side, sitting on the same rock where he had been earlier with Rod ... Lizzy's perch of the previous year. He was completely unconcerned with the display he was making, but Lizzy noticed both the other girls were watching him. She caught up with Mona, and the two of them hovered together, treading water as they observed the interaction of their husbands with the two young couples.
"I think Bill's got his eye on Carol," whispered Mona.
"Good luck," quipped Lizzy.
"Well, that Frank would be bad, you'll have to admit."
"I saw," Elizabeth admitted. "He is attractive."
"What do you think the story is with them?"
"Lord knows," said Lizzy.
They swam around for a quarter hour, and gradually each of them made for the bank. Rod had come out first, and set the style by sitting naked on the sand, using his hands like squeegees to shove the water from his arms and legs. Seeing his and Bill's easy display of nudity, the other two young men emerged and emulated them. Frank pulled a joint from his shirt pocket, lit it, and they passed it around while waiting for the women to come out.
Mona and Elizabeth joined the group, both of them sharing the marijuana, sitting as naked and unconcerned as the men. "This is sort of strange," said Alex. "I mean, we all live in the same pad and all, but...."
"No play?" asked Bill softly.
"Well, that's got nothing to do with it," Frank replied. "We just don't go running around the house bare-assed."
"But it's fun, isn't it?" Mona suggested.
"Yeah, I guess it kinda is," Frank admitted.
Carol and Joanne finally emerged from the pond. Each of them looked uncomfortable in her nudity, but neither was willing to be the first to admit it. Braving it out, they sat down with the others.
Bill stretched out full length on his back, which placed his body in total display. The others were sitting with legs drawn up in front of them, thus attaining some degree of modesty. Again without seeming concern, he reached down and repositioned his balls, which had been hanging uncomfortably between his legs.
"I get the idea you guys are real swingers," said Carol suddenly.
"Oh?" replied Lizzy.
"I mean, if we hadn't showed up, what would the four of you be doing right now?" she asked. "About what we are doing," said Mona. "Or maybe a little more," added Bill. "You see something you like?" asked Frank, teasing her. "You never know," Carol replied. "Until you try it," added Bill.
There were three marijuana cigarettes being passed around the group, and despite her resolve to resist it, Elizabeth found herself taking a drag every few seconds. She was getting fuzzier by the minute, and the bodies of the four men were arousing her. She wished someone would suggest going back to camp, but the conversation was obviously going in the opposite direction. She wondered if the pot was having the same effect on the others as it was on her. Probably, she decided. Certainly, the walls of reserve which had previously prevented their easy communication were no longer a problem.
Rod moved over to sit beside her, placing his wide, warm hand on her knee. "Do you want to stay?" he asked. "It looks like Bill's promoting something."
"I don't know," she admitted frankly. "Do you?"
He shrugged, glancing at Joanne. Her chubby little body was hunched tightly into a compact ball, arms wrapped securely around her knees. "She might be fun," he whispered in answer to Elizabeth's questioning look.
She knew if she asked him to, he would go up the hill with her, and that would be the end of it. He would not chide her for being prudish, nor ever express his disappointment at being deprived of the opportunity so openly presented. That's the important part, really ... the knowledge we don't have to have something outside ourselves. "I'm game to stay, then," she said.
Eventually, Rod drifted toward Joanne, and she returned his interest. Mona was attracted to Frank, the same as Elizabeth. The boy knew it, too, and he seemed to enjoy teasing them, keeping them in suspense. Alex was not a bad-looking guy, however, and with his clothes off it became apparent that of the two, his sexual equipment was by far the more impressive.
No one had thought to bring a blanket ... or more precisely, no one had been willing to make such an obvious overture at the time they came down the hill. Bill had paired off with Carol, and had used several pieces of clothing as a place to lie. Rod had taken Joanne into the water, where Elizabeth could see them starting their play in the shallow portion near the bank. That's going to restrict him, she realized with amusement. Unless he wants to do it underwater, he's not going to eat much pussy.
Finally, the choice seemed to be made for Frank, when Alex and Mona stood up, hand-in-hand, and headed for the pond. "Guess that leaves us," said the boy.
"Guess it does," Lizzy agreed.
"So, is it cold water or scratchy sand?" he asked lightly.
"Oh, for the days of chivalry," she sighed. "A true gentleman would find his lady a blanket."
Frank grunted unhappily, but got quickly to his feet and made for the path. He scrambled up the slope, and returned with an armload of cloth. Elizabeth watched him as he came toward her, his hard, slender body moving with such grace she felt a warm flush of admiration. It was as if his creamy skin were stretched tightly over a core of steel. Not a spare ounce of flesh was to be seen anywhere on his person. Yet the muscles stood out in rigid definition, like the drawings on an anatomical chart. If only his cock were a little bigger. It's disappointing, really ... unless it grows, but....
"Here you are m'lady," he said, flicking a blanket out for her, and standing beside it until she moved. Then he lay next to her, on his stomach, one arm placed casually across her midsection. "You know, you've got a groovy set of knockers," he whispered suddenly. His mouth dropped against the nearer nipple, and Elizabeth lay back to let him work on her. He was a little clumsy, but the feelings were still sublime.
He hung on her teat for seeming ages, his fingers idly twisting the other, but making no move to possess it. Neither did he turn toward her, and except for the portion of his chest which touched her to allow his contact with her teat, he was not even lying against her. He's married ... can't be that inexperienced ... must be afraid of me ... intimidated by this older woman....
She turned gently onto her side, which caused his lips to lose their grip on her breast. He looked at her questioningly, and she shoved against his shoulder, forcing him to roll so he faced her. She glanced briefly at his masculine beauty, while his fingers strayed once again across her breasts. "Aren't you going to kiss me?" she asked.
He stretched his neck toward her, touching her lips with his. He would have pulled away, then, but she pushed against him, forcing him onto his back while she twisted herself on top of him. She felt his hardened cock brush against her thigh, realizing it must not be quite as small as she'd expected. It did grow! That's good. Now, if I can just turn him on ... Their mouths had stayed in contact, and now Lizzy drove herself more firmly against him. His head was resting on the blanket, and unable to retreat he opened to her, returning the thrust of tongue. Gradually, he was coming more alive ... more active.
It was growing colder, causing Elizabeth to see the warmth of the young man's body. The cold air moving across her back and ass was almost sharply chill, however, and the unnatural position was not exactly to her liking. He was responding to her lips, though, driving his tongue against her without the almost fearful restraint he had shown earlier. His cock was lodged between them, and again Elizabeth had the peculiar feeling that it must be larger than she had imagined. It seemed to be reaching much further up her belly than it should ... if it were as it originally appeared.
Curiosity overcame her, and she slipped her hand between them to explore. My God, it really is a surprise package! Big, fat thing ... nothing missing there! Frank's erection came to an almost pointed end, with a long, rather narrow crown. However, his shaft expanded to quite a respectable girth, and maintained this clear to the base. The length was not exceptional, but adequate, she decided. Certainly enough to do the job ... Brr! It's really getting chilly!
A colder wind had suddenly started blowing down from the mountains, and the others reacted to it also. Gradually, all of them approached the pile of blankets Frank had brought down, and before long they were surrounded by their companions. The extra blankets went on top, so the four couples were snuggled together between them, all touching one another. Sharing their mutual heat, they overcame the inhibiting effects of the wind.
Lizzy pulled Frank on top of her, and whether he had merely been bashful before, or whether he was getting ideas from the other men, he now began to show a little greater skill. As it happened, Rod and Joanne were directly beside them, which allowed Elizabeth a periodic, jolting contact with one or the other of them. Frank's face was pressed into the center of her abdomen, and his hunched position made the blanket bulge upward like a tent. Rod must have entered Joanne at about the same moment as Frank began trailing his lips wetly across the top of Lizzy's love-patch. She heard the other girl groan deeply, and felt Joanne's arm flop upon the blanket, an inch or so from Lizzy's side.
Frank was kissing the sides of her loins, tickling the tender pressure points above the leg joints, which made Lizzy raise her knees, and forced her stomach muscles to contract. Then the boy dropped his open mouth against her abdomen, just above the line of pubic hair. Rapidly, he drove upward, leaving a wide, wet trail along the center of her body ... across the navel, between her teats ... clear to her throat, where he paused to kiss and knead the skin. His cock was prodding, seeking about between her legs, driving against the slit.
She shifted to accommodate him, and it slipped deeper, the tip grazing the vaginal opening. He brought his mouth to hers, and began a series of hard, twisting kisses, breaking free and repositioning himself several times. It was different and exciting. While he hadn't gone down on her-apparently wasn't going to, she still felt her glands respond, knew her passage was ready for him whenever he decided to take her.
Whoever was lying on the other side of Rod and Joanne must have bumped against them, because they suddenly shifted closer to Elizabeth and Frank. Now, as the young man felt about the inside of her cunt, positioning his cock for its initial plunge, the other couple was tightly pressed against them. Elizabeth felt Joanne reach across and stroke Frank's shoulder, his arm. Unexpectedly, he leaned over and kissed her at the same moment he shoved his cockhead into Elizabeth's cunt. Rod had seen this, too, of course, and laughing to himself he waited for them to separate and he did the same to Lizzy.
Later, she could never clearly explain it. Too much was lost in the foggy recall resulting from the pot and the little beer before and during dinner. But when Rod's mouth ground down on hers, the reaction was greater even than her response to the hardened cock that pressed its length through the channel of her vagina. It was as if the touch contained some magic ingredient that accelerated every neutral action, stimulated every synapse and ganglia in her body. Fiery desire swept through her ... of which Frank, of course, was the beneficiary.
She wrapped her legs around him, jammed her pubis hard against his groin, and pulled his head down to hers.
She made the same demands on him as she had felt from Rod a few seconds before. The response was different, but her own state of arousal was communicating itself to her partner. Frank gave her a warm enough reaction, now, to sustain the growing, surging passions that swelled within her. His cock was certainly making itself felt, and the deeply driven strokes were turning her insides into another flaming pit of frantic hunger. Again, she lunged against him and felt the cock impale her fully.
But it wasn't Frank she felt within her body ... nor any other man. The marijuana had transported her onto a fuzzy plain of existence-opened the door to what was happening. But this was sensual bliss ... sheer bodily pleasure that had no meaning beyond itself. She knew this, was more aware of it the further her floating consciousness seemed to detach itself from reality. Rod was near her. She could feel his motion close against her and this was the thread that held a portion of her mind, while the balance gave way to the fullness of all the myraid responses of which her physical being was capable.
Dawn was breaking, with cold fingers of light penetrating the distant darkness. A bitter cold wind had started moving across them, seeping through the blankets where one joined the other. Lizzy saw a faint gleam of color a few inches from her head, and moved more completely into the warmth of Rod's body. He was curled toward her in his sleep, his cock resting against her back, heavy and full enough that she could feel it as a separate entity where it touched her skin. Frank was against her other side, snoring softly, and all about them the others huddled close to share the heat.
As she stirred, Rod came half awake and pulled her closer, harder against him. "Sorry," he whispered. "I guess we really got into it, didn't we?"
"It's okay," she replied.
"I know, but there wasn't going to be any other ... this weekend. I know I pushed you into...."
