During the last decade more and more evidence has been presented by leading psychologists and sociologists concerning the growing problem of alienation. We are assaulted daily by ghetto problems, generation gaps and other social upheavals unheard of fifty or even twenty years ago. Divorces just about equal marriages. Apartment dwellers fear their neighbors. No one seems to talk to anyone any more.
Then, seemingly quite suddenly, the American scene is presented with the widespread phenomenon of "wife-swapping." Another time and another place, this would have been greeted with cries, outraged and lynch-mob angry, of protest. In the early 1970s, however, it is almost an accepted part of the life style of the liberated citizens of this country.
What is wife-swapping exactly? That, perhaps, is one of the more difficult questions to answer since the phenomenon has only recently come to light. On a very superficial level, it is exactly what it says it is, mates changing partners for sexual intrigue. But there are other levels to the practice, and many of them can be observed by following the strong-and weak-characters in frankly-written Girls for Pleasure.
We mentioned alienation earlier, and this fact of the hustle-bustle of modern living certainly has something to do with wife-swapping. Boy meets girl; boy marries girl; boy seeks other girl; girl seeks other boy. Somewhere along the line the idea that a single mate is no longer sufficient for each individual cropped up, and the liberated spouse, knowing right from the start that her husband would not be entirely faithful-and he, just as obviously, suspecting that neither would she-become intrigued with the idea of keeping the infidelities "in the family," so to speak. Suddenly there were house parties, too many cocktails and the tedium of the affluent society. It must have been easy to suggest the game of turning off the lights and tossing the house keys into a scramble on the floor-letting the men take a set of keys and the wife to some other house.
All of this is part of the alienation of our new and liberated society. It stems, as one authority on marital matters has expressed, from the fear that the new man and woman have in the closest of all human relationships, marriage. In a society that puts great emphasis upon success, public image and "getting ahead," the close relationship of the marital bond seems to fit too tightly, allowing no room for our public, admired images to dominate. There is simply no room in marriage for dishonesty or, more politely, the "scamming" of the public. The public in marriage is just the partner. Then, no longer able to kid one another, it is best to seek other outlets, lest our secret selves be known to the marriage partner. Yet there is still a strong Puritan ethic in this country which makes miserable those who would violate the sanctity of the marriage vow. Dilemma? Indeed, but there was a solution, is a solution, and the solution is in wife-swapping. All partners have agreed to the infidelity, ergo, no one is hurt by the fact. But, even better, there is a collective guilt which, in a very real sense, is no guilt at all. And without guilt there can be no danger to the status quo.
Girls for Pleasure doesn't delve into the head-shrinker's realm of motivation. It simply portrays, frankly and dramatically, what can happen to two healthy, lively and uninhibited married couples who let their mutual estrangement take the better of themselves. Certainly Girls for Pleasure is not typical. The practice of wife-swapping is so widespread that there would hardly be room for all the blackmailers-or markets for them. Yet the blackmailing activities are not really important to the story. What is really important in this book is the depiction of the phenomenon of wife-swapping itself, its pleasures and its possible agonies. But more than the exciting writing of the dramatic events of the two couples is the feeling that there is total alienation here. Phil and Donna, assured seemingly on the surface, still need the other interests of Jim and Anne.
At first glance, it would appear that Phil and Donna are some sort of ogres, seducing the other couple, planning it and setting the stage for it. But then we must suspect that Jim and Anne, fearful at first, have some very serious problem of relating to themselves, otherwise it would seem impossible for them to fall into the neatly played waterbed of their handsome neighbors.
What Girls for Pleasure really comes to is simply a strong story of two couples who, through upbringing, the search for financial success and the need to "keep up" their images, are so fearful of their respective mates that they use their beautiful sexuality to avoid that confrontation of honesty with each other. Is wife-swapping the answer to the alienation problem? It's doubtful, but through the pages of Girls for Pleasure one may get a better understanding of the phenomenon and, possibly, a hint as to how to direct one's own life-without alienation.
-The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
Phil Blocker sat bolt upright in his deck chair, squinting across the glaring white sand that separated the two Long Island beach homes. "Damn, there she is again," he murmured as he got to his feet and walked to the rail where he rested his elbows and brought his binoculars to his eyes, slowly adjusting the focus.
"Talk about being conspicuous." Donna, his darkly alluring wife, looked up from her book, pushed her dark glasses up on her nose and looked at her husband. "Why don't you wave a red flag or shoot off fireworks or something?"
Phil, his mouth open in an easy grin, talked out of the corner of his mouth. "Just a little old bird-watcher, that's me."
"Yeah?" Donna said sarcastically. "Just remember that little old bird you're slobbering all over has a husband who might not take kindly to your attention."
Phil didn't bother to answer. Slowly, he brought the figure of Anne Coleman into sharply flat focus. She walked, seeming to stay in place, marking time, while her body rippled in shimmering heat waves. Phil Blocker, taking her in, felt his groin bulge under his swimming trunks as he watched her delectable form move along the sundeck in a tight black bikini. "Jesus," he murmured softly.
Donna, behind him, sipped on her tall Tom Collins and went back to her book. "Nothing like being married to a dirty old bird-watcher."
"Oh, baby, if you would only take a peek," Phil went on, resting more of his weight on his elbows. He was a big man, well over two-hundred pounds. Just turned thirty-eight years old, his fullback figure was just beginning to thicken and there was a slight graying at the temples. His face was still ruggedly handsome and there was a thrust and drive to his look and walk that told you he was a man used to success and good living.
"You'd look silly as hell if you fell off the porch," Donna said dryly, trying to find her place in the book. Just turned thirty, she was a knockout with long black hair and bangs, a pert nose and a dazzling wide smile. She was petite yet fully and voluptuously developed. Looking at her sprawled on her deck chair in an electric blue bikini, one would wonder why her husband would ever to bother looking elsewhere. Her well-developed breasts seemed to swell against her bra, straining to burst free and allowing anyone who looked a view of amply deep, firm cleavage.
"God damn, she's got some shape. Look at her wiggle that ass!" Phil grunted as he peered through the glasses.
Anne Coleman moved along her own deck, a tall, natural blonde with a full figure that seemed made of syrup as she flowed along the porch. Her skimpy black bikini was cut low, clinging high enough to barely cover her pubic hair, the two straps which held the suit up slinging high over her hip bones and swooping back over her full mare-like buttocks, exposing a good portion of her cheeks which quivered and danced as she shimmered in heat waves in Phil's glasses; prism-like, rainbow arcs of light danced around her as she lazily raised an arm and brushed back her long hair and Phil saw her big breasts shift and undulate in a way that made him bite his lip and moan.
"Christ, Phil, do you have to act like a bull in heat? Do I act that way in front of you when I see something I like? We agreed to our freedoms, but we didn't agree to carry on in front of each other." Donna was just a trifle testy. There was still the edge of last night's drinking-that nasty ragged, nagging hangover headache. She drank from her glass again-their ritualistic cure, the "hair of the dog"-and frowned at her husband.
Phil swung around, a grin on his face. He leaned against the rail and took in his wife's form. "Jealous, baby?"
"Hell, no. It's just a matter of style. How would you like it if I was out here drooling over what's-her-name's husband?"
"Their Christian names are Anne and Jim. They are newly married, live in Manhattan, he's just starting out as a stockbroker and that lovely bitch out there just now going across the catwalk was formerly an airline stewardess."
Donna raised an eyebrow. "Listen to him, a regular Sherlock Holmes."
"They are," Phil went on, grinning, his voice a low sure growl as he swung around again and focussed on Anne walking out over the dunes, striding over the catwalk on her way down to the beach, "a perfect couple. Real picture-book stuff. Cosmopolitan, Vogue, Redbook, stuff."
"How about Better Homes and Gardens?"
Phil ignored his wife's jibe. "They drive a TR-4, belong to the beach club, and their beach house was given to them by his parents as a wedding gift."
"All that you can tell from watching her shake her ass across that catwalk?"
"Speaking of walks, listen to who's being catty. Nope, Frank, the handyman, is an endless source of gossip. Give him a chance and he'll tell you anything. Like, the interesting fact that Mrs. Coleman doesn't bother to wear a bra under her sweater when around the house."
"Big fat thrill."
Phil watched Anne disappear from his sight down the steps, her form wiggling provocatively. Her blonde head finally bobbing out of sight, he swung the glasses around and caught a gull in flight, its wings held taut and spread wide as it wheeled against the dazzling blue sky. "There, I saw a feathered bird," he said, snapping the glasses down and turning to his wife.
Donna stuck her tongue out and shifted in her chair, raising one knee and wiggling her hips as she put on a broad sun hat and grinned up at her husband. They were an attractive and exciting couple. Married five years, they had arrived at certain understandings: each was free to have affairs and each agreed that they would not get involved. Donna had entered into the agreement reluctantly, wanting to please her husband. She had suffered silent at first, knowing that Phil was out seducing some girl when he said he had to work late at the office.
Yet, to her surprise, when he was home, when they did have sex, it was much better. There was an excitement and lewdness to their sex that never had been before. Despite herself, Donna felt herself curious and jealous of another woman: a woman she didn't even know. Lying in bed, the two of them naked, excited, caressing each other in intimate ways and places, Donna heard herself ask, "What was she like?" and she felt a lubricious thrill surge through her body. She felt like a voyeur, a peeping-tom, intruding on someone's privacy and watching them. It was a tribute to their desire for one another and a kind of proof of their relationship that Phil told her, in detail, just what her body was like. He whispered in her ear as she lay on her back, her eyes closed, while she felt his fingers gently massaging the lips of her vagina.
He answered all of her questions, telling her exactly what the girl said and did, how her body felt and what he did to it and Donna felt herself aroused in a wild lewd way. Inhibitions disappeared as they made love with Donna doing everything the girl had done to her husband.
Later, there had been a young college student delivering clothes from the cleaners who had surprised Donna one morning in her negligee. She had found herself flirting with the boy, "accidentally" dropping a cigarette and bending over to pick it up, allowing him a view of her full breasts and small pointed nipples. The college boy had made a pass and Donna found herself in his arms, grinding her groin into his while her tongue probed in his mouth. The rest of the morning, she was in a state of breathless excitement and sexual arousal as she waited for the student to finish his deliveries and come back.
He came back in the early afternoon and Donna did a striptease for him in the guest bedroom and he had been rough, but exciting. That night, in bed, she told Phil about the whole thing and the two of them found themselves in lewd wild abandon.
The situation grew and both of them found they could discuss sex and what excited them with more and more candor. Phil was the successful and free-wheeling head of a public relations firm and, on a business and pleasure trip to San Francisco, he proposed a new game to Donna. He went out and picked up a prostitute, a hooker, and brought her back to the hotel room. Donna had sat in a chair, in the corner of the room, and watched as her husband and the prostitute had stripped naked and made obscene love on the bed. She could barely wait for them to be through before she tore off her own clothes and fell on her husband and made love to him while the prostitute watched.
They both were soaring to giddy heights of horny excitement and when Phil suggested that Donna go out and pick up some guy and bring him back to the hotel while he, Phil, hid in the closet and watched, she agreed. She went out on the street, her heart pounding, her vagina moist with sexual heat and excitement and, in no time at all, she was back in the room with a man and was being fucked by him on the bed while she knew her husband was watching. When it was over, she had no sooner shut the door than Phil was rushing from the closet. He was naked and his big cock was rigidly erect and they fucked deliciously far into the night.
Through long years of propaganda, Phil convinced Donna that he was right. The only thing that stopped people from enjoying their lives was a sense of guilt. A sense of guilt was something one imposed on oneself. "Life is a one-time thing," he was fond of saying, "I don't know what comes after and right now, I'm concerned with what's happening now. I'd hate to check out knowing there was some experience I hadn't had just because of some middle-class sense of guilt."
Donna didn't care much for all of his intellectual rationalizing; what she did know was that it was exciting, it was living; the thought of sexual adventure and promiscuity excited a lewdness and lust in her that she hadn't felt since she was a teenager and fantasized about sex. And even that wasn't the same, for now she actually did what most people daydreamed about. She knew her husband was aggressive, that he ran his business like he had his sex-urgently, endlessly, and with a kind of abandon. There were times when his agency teetered on the brink of disaster only to have his personality and charm bring it back. He pulled off many a wild stunt that a lesser man would have been crushed by. She knew she had to give in to him on practically everything, for, above all, he would have his way. And his way excited her and made her wish for more.
Now, standing over her, he put on his dark glasses and grinned down at her, a handsome ex-athlete with just the hint of a paunch around the waist. "Donna, I want her. I'm going to have her."
"Okay, good luck, go ahead. Why tell me about it?"
"Because you're going to help me."
"What? Oh, come on." She waved a disgusted hand at him.
"Why not?" he asked, bending over her chair, his hands on the arms. "Why not a little orgy?" he asked, his voice dropping, his smile remaining constant.
"Huh? What are you getting at?"
"Have you seen him, Jim Coleman?"
"Of course I have. So what?"
"Good looking, acceptable, right?"
A slow smile twitched on her lips. "What are you getting at? dirty old gull-watcher."
His grin was loose and lewd as he put the flat of one palm on her tanned and firm stomach and let it slide down, wedging his fingers under her suit and kneading them in her pubic hair. "Phil!" she said. "People can see!"
"So what?" he asked. "It's legal, you're my wife and besides, it's an advertisement."
"Phil, for God's sake," Donna murmured as she tried to wiggle deeper into the chair as she felt his fingers probing lower, stretching the elastic band of her bikini as his forefinger found the lips of her vagina and gently spread them as he massaged her clitoris. Lewdness and desire began to boil and bubble deep in her loins.
"Like that, don't you?" he murmured.
Donna tried not to answer but a moan of lazy delight escaped her lips.
Phil grunted with satisfaction. "How about an orgy? How about the four of us getting together and having a little orgy? Swap mates. The four of us naked in a bedroom. That appeal to you?"
Donna was breathing heavily through her nostrils and she spread her legs lazily, allowing his finger to plunge home in her cunt where it began sawing in and out and she felt her desire rising. Phil knelt on her deck chair and his other hand forced its way under her bra and he seized her breast in his hand and squeezed it, the nipple caught and tortured between two of his fingers. Lewdness made her pump her hips and her mouth was open, her eyes closed as she relished the sensations she was feeling and thought: Oh, God, if anyone sees us!
"How about it? A little swap-party, a little wild time?"
Her breath was coming heavy now and her breasts beginning to heave with passion as she spoke. "It would be fun, but it would be so risky."
"Not if it's handled right," he answered, shifting his hand on her cunt so that it forced her panties down, revealing the line where her tan stopped and her snow white flesh began. He shifted his hand even more, forcing his finger deeper into her cunt and revealing her dark downy pubic hair to the sun as she spread her legs wider and let her head fall back as the book she had been reading slipped from her stomach and fell to the deck with a heavy thud.
Her hips were undulating with a life of their own now and her lips were wet as she moaned, "Take me inside and fuck me!"
Phil rammed his finger home deeper, feeling the pulpy walls of her cunt wet with excitement and twitching convulsively with lust. "The idea excites you, doesn't it?"
"Yesss!" she breathed, arching her back, her breasts jutting up as his fingers toyed with her nipple under the bra.
"Then you want to do it? Huh?" he persisted, his voice low, hypnotic, insistent. "Tell me you want to do it, tell me you want to see me fuck that blonde while I watch you fuck her husband."
His words and lewd ministrations drove her body into a passion. Her bikini panties were down around her thighs now and she stretched her legs as wide apart as they would go and thrust her pelvis up. It was so obscene and exhibitionistic, what they were doing, right out in the broad daylight! Anyone could see and Donna found herself wishing that someone would see-and perhaps join them!
Her hands were pawing her husband now, trying to pull him down on top of her. "Yessss!" she hissed, feeling an orgasm growing. "Yes, I'd love it! Oh, I'd fuck him!"
A hard smile on his face, Phil looked down at his wife, gave a final lunge into her cunt then pulled his hands free and stepped back. "Good!" he said, his voice betraying an edge of sadism.
Anger and frustration raged in Donna and her mouth twisted as she looked up at her grinning husband. "Good? You bastard, that's not fair!" she cried as she pulled her panties back up and adjusted her bra.
He sat down in his chair and lit a cigarette, grinning at her. "Agreed. Teasing isn't fair." He levelled a finger at her. "Unless it accomplishes a mutual end."
"Mutual end my foot," Donna said, pouting. "You get me all excited then you sit back and laugh at me. Just you wait, your turn will come."
Phil laughed. "Easy. Why don't you take a walk on the beach?"
"Why don't you take a flying leap over the rail?" she said, snatching up her book and riffling through the pages.
"Anybody ever tell you that when you're mad, you're positively sexual?"
"Go to hell, sweet talker!"
He leaned toward her. "I got you hot on purpose. Go take a walk on the beach."
Behind her glasses, she squinted one eye at him, beginning to understand what he was getting at. "And?" she asked, smiling.
"And strike up a conversation with Mrs. Coleman-she of the barely concealing black bikini."
"Break the ice, huh?"
Phil's face broke into a broad smile. "Now you're talking. Let me give you an idea of what to talk about." Their heads bent together, he told her and she got up with a grin, snapped her bikini into place and said, "And you'd better watch me shake it across the catwalk."
Phil sat back, folding his arms. "Wouldn't miss it for all the gull-shit in the world."
CHAPTER TWO
Phil Blocker watched his wife mince across the boards and out of sight then leaped to his feet and, humming, went into their beach house and pulled on a tee shirt and some sneakers then went out the front door, down the stairs and started walking along the domed macadam road to the Coleman beach house. The day was hot and the road went on, disappearing in perspective in shimmering heat waves that distorted far-off objects and made them dance crazily: what looked like a red sheet flapping far off soon took solid form and became the red pickup truck of Frank Delasandro coming toward him.
He waved as Frank, handyman and winter caretaker, sped by in a whoosh of hot air and he saw his dark thin profile with his swarthy face and pencil-thin mustache. Frank had been born and raised and still lived on a little farm on the inland side of the bay. He had a good thing going for him and was good at his job, being able to do almost any kind of manual labor. Phil wondered what his life was like. He knew so much about all the people who owned or rented the beach houses and, over a drink, he was more than willing to talk about them. A short dark man who was thin and had muscles like woven wire-cables, he would sip the beer Phil had offered him and puff on a cigarette, taking a break from unplugging a drain for Phil and say, "You'd be surprised what goes on out here. Don't ask me."
"Really? Like what?" Phil asked, trying to hide a grin.
"Ah, don't ask me. Like the Farrington party two weeks ago. Don't ask me about that!"
"What happened?"
"I can't tell you. Not about the Farrington girl, I can't."
"Sure you can."
"If her mother and father only knew. Don't ask me."
"Okay, I won't. What happened?"
Taking another sip of his beer, Frank was off and running as he swiped his hand across his mustache. "They had this big party, see? A real bust out. Everybody got smashed out of their mind. And, while the party is going on in the house and on the sundeck, I see this Farrington girl-her name is Susy and she's a knockout-sneak down into the garage and get in a car with two guys. Two guys!" Frank said, his eyes excited and two fingers held up in front of Phil's face. "Two of them! And at the same time!" He was all excited now, sipping at his beer and puffing on his cigarette while talking and gesticulating in an Italian way. "Two of them! And I saw her getting screwed, naked, stripped, nothing on! Getting screwed in the garage while her parents are upstairs bombed out of their minds! I tell you, people ain't got any morals anymore. You'd be amazed at what goes on out here. You wouldn't believe me."
"Like what?"
"Don't ask!"
Walking along the road, his head bent down under the heavy sun, feeling and hearing the sand crunch under his feet, Phil wagged his head and laughed, wondering what Frank's home life must be like.
He walked up the Coleman driveway whistling, eager to get into the shade, not having the slightest idea what he was going to say, but trusting his instinct that he would say and do the right thing. He leaped up the porch stairs two at a time and rapped on the door.
Down on the beach, Donna Blocker kicked off her sandals and put them on the catwalk steps and shaded her eyes, looking around for Anne Coleman. She spotted her further down the beach and set off, stepping in the deep soft sand, her hips swaying in an exaggerated way. Anne Coleman had spread a towel and was lying with her head against a dune, her tanned body now glistening with suntan oil. The black halter to her bikini was unclasped and her bra barely covered her breasts that spilled out and Donna saw that she was voluptuous and could see why her husband wanted to fuck her. A lewd thrill rekindled the lust she had been feeling up on the sundeck as she imagined Phil fucking Anne with that big battering-ram cock of his while she watched with-what was his name? Jim. She would suck Jim's prick and she hoped it was big and thick like Phil's. She would suck it while Jim Coleman watched his wife being fucked to death.
"Hi," she said, coming to a halt and smiling down at Anne. "I'm Donna Blocker and we're neighbors and I saw you coming down to the beach and I thought we might as well get acquainted."
"Hello," Anne said, shading her eyes with a hand. "I'm Anne Coleman."
"I know," Donna said, kneeling in the sand, "Frank told us who you were and that you also are newlyweds. Congratulations."
"Thanks," Anne said shyly. "We were going to come over and introduce ourselves but we haven't had time, somehow."
Donna laughed indulgently, nodding in a knowing way. "Don't think I don't know. Listen, if your husband is anything like my Phil, it's a wonder if you have time to brush your teeth."
A nervous smile on her lips, Anne looked away and nodded vaguely.
"You don't have to be self-conscious about it," Donna went on, "After all isn't that what married life is all about? Listen, I hope you're as lucky as me. Phil is the biggest lecher you've ever seen. Always driving me into bed." For a moment, her ruby red tongue tipped her snow white teeth. "I like it. Can't keep his hands off me. Is your husband that way?"
Anne squinted at Donna, feeling this was hardly the way to talk, especially since they both had just met.
"Trouble is," Donna went on, examining her nails, "He gets carried away. Like last night. He left the stereo on full blast and the lights were on in our bedroom and the drapes were open. Did you notice?" she asked, all concerned. "I mean, we didn't bother you or anything like that, did we?"
"No," Anne said, shaking her head, "I didn't hear anything."
Donna gave a throaty chuckle. "It's not the hearing I'm worried about. Sound can always be turned down or off. It's the seeing I'm worried about. We had a little too much to drink last night and got carried away. I worried but, well, when you get to know Phil, you'll see what I mean," she said with a shrug.
Anne didn't like the way the conversation was going, but found herself curious. Jim, her husband, was the first man she had ever had and sex was a new thing to her. "I don't know what you mean?"
"Well," Donna said, giggling. "He knew the lights were on and the drapes open and it was getting kind of rough and hot in our bedroom and I said something about it and he said: so what? What's wrong with someone having a free show? What do you think of that? "
A surge of embarrassment and sexuality hit Anne in the pit of her shapely stomach. She stammered the question out. "What did you do?"
Donna looked at her through lowered lashes, breathing through her nose feeling her own vagina swelling with the excitement of telling another woman. Her eyes, veiled thinly behind her lashes, took in Anne's body: her long legs that were as good as her own and longer, her shapely tanned thighs and thin firm stomach and full rich breasts that were barely hidden under her bikini halter. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw the nipples of her breasts mounting to a pointed hardness under the black satin bra. For the first time in her life, to her consternation and inward self-fear, she found herself sexually attracted to another woman and her mind flirted with the idea of what it would be like to make love to Anne Coleman-to have her naked on a bed and make love to her while Phil watched.
"Perhaps you don't want to say," Anne said finally, uneasy under her stare that took in her body slowly, mentally undressing her.
"Oh, no, I don't mind," Donna said brightly, pulling herself together. "I don't mind at all. It was a crazy thing to do, I know. We ..." she smiled slowly at Anne, spreading her palms out in an insinuating way, "We made love. We had sex. All the way. We fucked." She broadened her smile as she saw the word "fucked" hit Anne with an impact and slowly sponge in. "I liked it," she added in a small voice.
Anne didn't say anything. She looked out to sea while the word echoed around in her mind.
"Did I shock you?" Donna asked sweetly. "Phil says I'm always trying to shock people. What the hell, I guess he's right. I do it on purpose. It tells me a lot about what people are like. To be honest, the stereo was turned down, one lamp in a corner was lit and the drapes were only half open. You could've had a great show if you were a sea gull hovering out over the dunes somewhere."
Anne laughed in relief and looked at Donna with a new interest. She liked her and the brazen way she had been putting Anne on.
Donna offered a cigarette and lit one herself. "There was one gull but he turned out to be nearsighted. Seriously, it was just the idea of being a little bit naughty. Have you ever thought about that?"
Taking a drag on her cigarette, Anne nodded. "Yes, I must confess I do."
"Everybody does. A little risque behavior does wonders for a marriage, let me tell you. Phil always says he wants me to be a lady in the living room, a wife in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom."
Anne laughed delightedly. Donna was the first woman she had had a chance to talk to in anyway since she had been married and she was beginning to enjoy it. "I'll have to tell Jim that one.
"Is that his name? That's nice. Please do. But, better yet, be it. Trouble with me is, I got Phil on my hands or, to be more honest, I got his hands all over me and sometimes," she smiled knowingly, "I'm a whore in the living room and kitchen."
Anne's hand flew to her mouth as she hid a laugh.
Donna leaned close. "Listen, try it in the shower sometime." Anne's laughter increased and she tried to avert her face. Donna gave out a throaty laugh. "Ah ha! Gotcha! Fun, isn't it? Come on, nothing wrong in admitting it."
Anne couldn't answer, her face crimson under her tan and oil. Donna got to her feet and lazily stretched. "I've got to go in town soon for some lobsters. Can I get you anything while I'm there?"
"No," Anne said, shaking her head and not looking up.
"Okay. Nice to finally have met you."
"Me too."
"We'll have you over for cocktails soon and you can see our house and our waterbed," Donna said, backing off.
"Your what?"
"Our waterbed. Haven't you ever seen one?"
"No. What is it? a mattress filled with water?"
"Exactly," Donna said, putting one hand on her hips. "And the water is heated by a thermostat control."
"What's it like?" Anne said, feeling her face flush again.
Donna jutted one hip out and stood, mocking a stripper. "Well, all I can say is, it's great for fucking! "
Despite herself, Anne burst into an hysterical laughter at Donna's boldness and vulgarity.
She dropped her pose and said, "Nobody can describe what it's like. You and ... Jim-is that his name?-will have to try it for yourself." With a flick of the wrist and a smirk, she walked away, calling back, "Maybe you'll want to. Maybe we all could try it."
And she walked off, her buttocks swaying, leaving Anne Coleman with her thoughts.
Jim sat down and looked at Phil Blocker. A solid enough looking guy. A few questions on both parts and he knew that Phil was a successful man who was probably headed on to bigger and better things. Hell, he could tell that by the way he handled himself. He accepted Phil's congratulations on his marriage and several smutty remarks about his wife as a compliment. In college, he had known lots of jocks like Phil Blocker: they had a way of coming on earthy and direct and didn't really mean anything by it. Besides, he had to admit that his wife was stacked and that she was pretty hot in the sack.
Before she had left, Anne had brewed a pot of coffee and they were both enjoying it now, talking about the stock market when Phil suddenly looked over his shoulder and his eyes narrowed and he said, "Jesus Christ," very softly.
"What's the matter?" Jim said, turning in his chair to see what Phil was staring at.
Phil was on his feet and striding across the living room like a great cat, looking out the picture window. "I never realized," he said, chuckling a little.
"Realized what?" Jim asked, getting up and standing beside him. All he could see was their beach house across the white sand.
"Look at that," Phil said, pointing. "Our bedroom window faces on this side."
"Oh, I didn't know."
Phil laughed and turned from the window, nodding. "Well, that's your tough luck. If you had, you would have had quite a show last night."
"Huh?" Jim asked. "What do you mean?" He thought he knew what he had meant but he wanted him to say it as he felt his cock swell a bit in his pants.
"You know how it is," Phil said, sprawling in his chair and putting his hands behind his head. "Donna and I went out last night and drank a little too much. When we came home, we had a little more and some nice music and one thing led to another and pretty soon we were balling away in the bedroom with the lights on and the drapes open. Forgot all about neighbors until this morning. Gotta be more careful."
"Yeah," Jim said, sitting down and trying to conceal his excitement. "Anne is always worried about somebody peeking in. You know how it is."
"No I don't," Phil said with a little smile. "Not with Donna. She's always worried that no one is looking in. Donna is ... well, Donna is a real hot one with damn few inhibitions."
Jim looked down at his coffee cup, not knowing what to say. He had seen Mrs. Donna Blocker and she was a knockout. He had seen her getting into the car with a pair of shorts almost on her, the damn things cutting up to reveal the cheeks of her buttocks. Donna was the opposite of Anne: small and dark and fiery. A delectable piece of ass, he had told himself.
Across the room, Phil chuckled to himself. "It all happened because I told her about Beaver Shooting."
"Beaver what?" Jim asked smiling.
Phil looked surprised. "Don't tell me you never did any Beaver Shooting when you were in college?"
Jim shook his head, a little embarrassed that he didn't even know what he was talking about.
Phil leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "When I was in college, the team would go away for games, right? Well, we'd stay at some hotel, right? Naturally. Well, the night before a game, when it got late enough, we'd go up on the roof or use the fire exits and climb around like a bunch of drunken apes trying to find a room where somebody was balling. You know, screwing. Whenever somebody found one, we'd yell, Bang, I got a Beaver and we'd all run and watch."
Jim allowed himself a smirk. "Man, I bet you saw some sights."
"Did we ever!" Phil said, allowing himself to wax sentimental. "Those were the days. Christ, being on a football team, I had a different girl every night. We used to give points for Beaver Shooting with the guy with the most points getting whatever chick was available. If you won, you had your pick and believe me, all that fucking made you hornier than a young bull in a pasture full of cows in heat."
"I bet."
"Hell, we even got to setting it up. I never will forget the night we set Bronco Stewart up. He was a big tackle. He got really smashed one night and a couple of guys contacted these two hookers-real high class hookers-and then we all climbed into Danny Coombs room to watch Bronco work out with the two hookers in the room across an airshaft. They were ... you know ... A.C., D.C."
"Yeah," Jim said, not really knowing, but imagining what it must be like. He felt his cock swelling and he wished Anne were there. He'd take her into the bedroom and really give it to her.
"Ever make it with two girls at the same time?" Phil asked in a confidential tone, a smirk on his lips, but his eyes watching Jim evenly.
"Er ... two? Two at the same time? No ... no, I can't say that I have. Wish I did, though," he added, unable to keep the excitement and interest out of his voice. "Have you?" he asked, blurting the question out. What the hell, he thought, if he can ask me, I can ask him.
Phil looked at him with a little smile. "When I check out I can honestly say that there will be damned little I haven't tried or done."
And in the silence of the room Phil could practically hear Jim's mind turning over. "Well," he said, slapping his knees, "I've got to be going. Donna and I are going to go into town this afternoon and do some shopping." He got up and extended his hand. "Glad to meet you. Now that we've met we'll have to have you and ... Anne, isn't it? ... over for cocktails and a look at the house. Especially our water bed."
"What's a water bed?" Jim asked as he shook hands.
Phil smiled. "Let me tell you about it," he said, throwing an arm over his shoulder and walking toward the door.
CHAPTER THREE
Phil and Donna did go into town, comparing notes and impressions. Later, before going back to the beach house, they stopped in the town's only cocktail lounge and had dry martinis. To anyone seeing them, any tourist, they looked like an extremely attractive couple on a relaxed vacation. Donna sipped her drink and tried to hide her anxiety. "Phil, are you sure we're doing the right thing?" she finally asked.
"Getting cold feet? Getting antsy already?" he asked.
"Yes, frankly. I mean, it was one thing what we did in San Francisco. We were strangers. We own that beach house and we're going to be here for years."
"Did you enjoy San Francisco?" he asked.
"I loved it! But, it was kind of a one-in-a-lifetime thing. I mean, we left. It was so risky. It could have turned out bad."
"It turned out great," he said, his voice low.
"I know, I know," she agreed. "But, where do we draw the line?"
Phil sat back in his chair, his face serious. "Wherever you want it, hon. If it bothers you, just say so and I'll call the whole thing off."
"It's just that I worry," she said, thinking of Anne Coleman on the beach and her figure sprawled on the towel, nearly naked, and the lust and lewdness it had aroused in her. She didn't want to tell her husband about it.
"If it worries you, don't do it," Phil said and she could tell he was disappointed with her.
She patted his hand. "You know I want to. I just worry about how far to go, that's all."
Phil looked at her. "You're my wife. I love you. We share our pleasures, right?"
"Right."
"So, you go as far as you want to go. All the way, if you want."
"All the way?" she asked, her lips wet, her dark lashes drooping. She was beginning to feel excited again, a moistness swelling and lubricating the lips of her vagina. She crossed her legs and squeezed them together.
"All the way," Phil echoed.
"How would you feel if you watched Jim Coleman fuck me?" she asked, thrilled and further aroused at her own statement and question.
"I'd enjoy it," Phil said simply. He looked at his wife with a serious expression. "I'd enjoy it tremendously. How would you feel watching me fuck Anne into an orgasm?"
A shudder ran through her body and she could feel her nipples contracting and growing pointed underneath her bra and dress. "I'd like to see that," she said in a breathy voice, wanting, but not daring to add, I'd like us to be on the bed altogether and everybody could get mixed up! The depth of her passion and desire shook her and she felt hotter than she had in years. Anne Coleman had a very desirable body and Donna could see herself caressing that body, driving Anne crazy and loving every minute of it while Phil fucked them both. Jesus, she thought, what am I thinking?
Phil Blocker, although never known as a particularly brilliant student, was far from stupid. He had a driving bold kind of cunning and intuition that made his gambles pay off. When he was playing football, he was known for his wild and abandoned way of playing; his insane gambles that, more often than not, paid off, and electrified the stadium and his team. For example, once, in a scoreless game in which both defenses dominated, late in the fourth quarter, Phil dropped back to field a punt from the opposing team. The kick was a good one, long and high and Phil let it go, letting it bounce and jogging along near the ball, with enemy players all around him, their eyes on the ball, hoping it would roll further back before one of them downed it. The ball took a final bounce end over end up into the air and, like a flash, Phil snatched it and was off, leaving the enemy staring at the empty space in surprise.
The stadium erupted as he wove his way upfield with most of the opposing team in desperate pursuit. It had been a ninety-two yard run and the only score of the game. "What made you do a damn thing like that?" his coach had shouted over the din of the dressing room.
"I don't know," he had shouted back, "it suddenly seemed like a good idea."
And, in business, with people on a social level, things suddenly seemed like a good idea and, more often than not, he went with his impulse and, more often than not, it paid off. He was the envy of the public relations field and the stories were legion about the unorthodox way he captured accounts. And so it was with Donna. He felt he could almost read her mind and he started scheming, right then, a way to get her into bed with Anne Coleman and have a ball with the two of them. He knew that he was slowly bringing Donna along and he was fairly sure she had a deep and consuming lust. She had the capacity for real depravity and he was going to do everything in his power to bring that lust out and enjoy it.
He glanced at his watch. "Hey, it's getting late. We'd better get back, have our lobsters and get ready for the big show tonight."
"Right," Donna said, smiling. She got up, eager to get back and enjoy the evening. It was going to be pretty wild-if she could help it.
Back out at the beach, Jim and Anne had just finished a dip in the ocean and they were coming back over the catwalk, each with their own thoughts. All Jim could think about was the coming night and the possibility that he might see Donna Blocker naked. Already, to his own self-disgust, he had thought of an idea and he told himself that it wasn't so much of a white lie as it was a possibility. He shivered and draped his beach towel over his shoulders. "I hate to say it, but I think I caught a chill."
"Really?" Anne asked, concerned. "Maybe you ought to take a hot shower and some aspirin."
Anne was thinking of Donna and the way she talked. Her husband sounded exciting to her. She hated to admit that another man could interest her but she was wondering about the two of them and she found herself curious. So, when Jim proposed that he sleep in the guest room so that she wouldn't catch his oncoming cold, she readily agreed. Everything was working out fine. She hated the idea of her snooping on neighbors, but it would only be just this once and the idea was truly exciting.
And so it was worked out. After a reasonable time of reading and listening to the radio, there were yawns and goodnights and the regret expressed that they were spending their first married night apart.
Jim, lying in bed, the lights off, grinned up into the dark, thinking he may have talked himself into a cold, for he actually did feel stuffy and tired. He lay quietly, listening.
Their beach house was silent. In the bedroom, Anne tossed restlessly, glancing at the luminous dial and hands of the clock glowing in the dark. Before she had gone to bed, she had peeked, parting the drapes and had seen Phil Blocker out on the sundeck, looking at the stars, drink in hand. He was tanned and rugged and handsome and she chided herself for comparing him to her husband. Since she had talked to Donna Blocker on the beach, all sorts of wild thoughts had gone through her mind. Brought up by strict parents who were very religious, she had little first-hand knowledge of sex and had often wondered about ... things. Now, for the first time in her life, she was going to get a chance to find out what other people did in bed.
She was filled with a restless excitement, telling herself that nothing would happen. Yet, as she had looked, the drapes to their bedroom were open, the lights were on and the bed was in plain sight. For her to see, she would have to get out of bed and stand by the drapes. Supposing Jim got out of bed for some reason and wandered in and caught her? Well, she thought, so what?
And, except for the pounding of the surf down on the beach, the house was silent for what seemed like endless dragging hours. However, when Donna Blocker walked into her bedroom, reaching behind her and unzipping her dress, both Jim and Anne were at their respective windows, holding their breath as they watched. It seemed almost as if Donna were on a glass enclosed stage, the light from the room seeming all the brighter in contrast to the darkness outside. She had an absent smile on her face and, as Jim noted, her gait was loose and swaying a bit.
She disappeared from sight, taking the dress off one shoulder in an unconsciously teasing gesture, revealing her naked flesh underneath.
It seemed to both of them they waited an unbearable time before she came back into view again and Jim felt his cock give a little leap of life as she walked slowly into view. She was wearing a long white negligee and he could see her form underneath it. Her figure was obscured, but he could tell she was naked underneath. She stood by the window and seemed to be staring off as she brushed her hair.
Then, as she tilted her head and stroked her long hair, the negligee fell open and Jim saw that she was indeed naked. All of her secret loveliness was there. Her breasts spilled out and they weren't as large as Anne's, but they were every bit as round and well-molded, like rich ripe melons ready to be plucked. They were high and her dark nipples were pointed and he loved the way they jiggled and shook as she stroked her hair.
His eye raced down over her smooth slim stomach and to her crotch, her wedge of black pubic hair and the way one hip bone jutted out as she leaned her weight on one leg. Far from getting ready for bed, she was getting ready for Phil. She was wearing high heels and jet black stockings that stopped halfway up her thigh and were held in place by two scarlet garters! There was something so lewd and exciting to him about seeing a woman who was more than naked; she was calling attention to her nudity, to her sexuality and he wished he could get Anne to wear something in bed.
But Anne was not paramount in his mind now as he knelt on the floor and felt his cock swelling up hard and horny as he watched Donna Blocker across the way put a hand on her hip, further opening her negligee as she slowly brushed her hair, her head tossed back, her breasts jutting out lasciviously, her hips lewd and provocative as she let her pelvis roll out and Jim could see the tight delicious curve of her naked buttocks and he had to rub the glass with his hand because his breath was fogging the glass cooled by the evening breeze.
Then Phil came into the room, unbuttoning his shirt, a dirty smile on his face as he looked at his wife and she turned her back to the window and held her negligee wide open for him to see. Jim's eyes were starting out of his head and his breath was coming in short gasps as he wondered what they were saying to one another.
If either he or Anne could lip read, they would have known what Phil was saying at that moment. "Sell yourself, baby."
"Mmmnn," Donna murmured, turning slowly so that she faced the windows again, her naked body caught in the lamplight, revealing every contour and sensual curve of her body. "Don't think I haven't."
"Enjoying it?" he asked, taking his shirt off.
"Oh, God! I'm so hot." She turned back to her husband, letting the negligee slip from her shoulders. "Do you think they're watching?"
"I'm sure of it. Out on the deck I saw the corner of their drape move and also I saw a dark figure move in another room."
"God, I feel like such a slut."
"And you like it, don't you?" he asked, getting out of his pants.
"I love it. Phil, are you sure we're doing the right thing? I mean, I could go crazy doing things like this," she said, her finger tips playing with her naked nipples.
"That's the way I want to hear you talk," he said, stepping out of his underwear and standing naked.
Across the way, in the darkness of her bedroom, Anne bit her fist to keep from making a sound when she saw Phil Blocker naked. He had the biggest prick she had ever seen! It was so huge and obscene as it stood erect, its thick mushroom head swelling! His whole naked body exuded a power and lewdness as he stood there with his muscles tensed and a cruel look on his face.
Donna stood looking at her husband, her eyes half closed, her lips wet and her hands cupped her breasts, seeming to offer them to him. "Oh, God, Phil, it seems we're opening a Pandora's box."
"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice low.
"I mean I want to go all the way. Have an orgy. I want to do everything. Anything. God, I've never been so hot before. I'd like to have a gang-bang. I mean it. I'd like to fuck until I couldn't think any more."
"Well, take that negligee off and we'll begin!"
Across the way, Jim had slowly, painstakingly, opened the window so his head could stick out and he breathed the cool sea air as he leaned out, pressing his prick up against the wall as he watched Donna Blocker's negligee slip to the floor and she stood naked and lewd in her high hells and black, thigh-length stockings topped with scarlet garters and he saw her bare buttocks-those twin white cheeks that moved so invitingly as she walked toward her naked husband, smiling at his face as she reached with one hand and seized his huge cock and squeezed it while she stood close and her red tongue slowly slid out and licked his lips. Then he was crushing her naked body in his arms and their mouths were locked and her hips were grinding into his groin as his hand came down and caressed her buttocks and, as Jim watched, she stood with her stockinged legs wide apart and Phil's hand and fingers sunk slowly into the soft crack between her cheeks and he probed for her anus.
Donna pulled her hips away from her husband and Jim saw her thrust her hips out and wiggle them lewdly, allowing Phil's hand to burrow deeper.
She gave a little cry as she felt her husband's finger sink into the rubbery tightness of her anus and explore the tender pulpy walls of her rectum. She had her arms around his neck as she felt his other hand come down and rub over the swollen lips of her vagina.
"Hey," he said, "you're hot already," as his finger glided up and down her glistening slit.
"Am I ever!" she panted. "I told you I was. Oh, I hope they're watching!"
"Don't worry," he said as his fingers parted her twitching lips and plunged home into her palpitating cunt.
"Ahhhhhhhh!" Donna sighed as she rotated her hips and pumped her loins back and forth in a slow lewd way, feeling his fingers slipping and sliding in and out of her cunt while his other hand rammed the finger home in her anus and she felt it tight and exciting.
She felt her body turning into a kind of molten excitement; she felt an arousal coursing through her loins like she had never felt before and she felt the growing of a huge orgasm that, once it started, would threaten never to stop.
"I've got plans for you," Phil said as he worked his fingers and felt her hips pump faster and with more abandon.
"Ohhhhhhh!" was all Donna could reply.
"Before I'm through with you, you're going to have that orgy."
"Yessssss! "
"You'll get fucked so much and get so hot you'll do anything I say."
"Yesssss! "
"And some night, I'm going to get you in bed with another woman."
"Ohhhhhhhhh yes! "
"You'd like that?"
"I'd love that! "
"And some night I'll get you in bed with three men and watch them fuck the life out of you."
"Ohhhhhhhh! I... I'm... I'mmmm cummmmmming!" Donna said, her knees weak and her whole lovely body shaking so that her breasts quivered enticingly.
Jim, breathing hard, had his cock out and in his hand now as he tore his eyes from the scene across the way and darted a glance at the door. He hadn't even been listening and Anne could come in and catch him like this. So what, he thought and turned to the window again.
Donna Blocker's hips were pumping and undulating with a life of their own as he watched. God, he thought, what a hot number she was! As he watched, he saw her kiss her husband on the mouth and slowly bend her knees and fall to the floor, her hands sliding down over his chest and stomach and then gripping his big cock. Her tongue had left a wet zig-zag trail across his chest and stomach and she was now down on her knees, licking his thighs while her hands slowly pulled the skin back on his still growing prick.
In her bedroom, Anne felt her breasts heaving with excitement as she watched with her mouth open. Donna Blocker was acting like a whore and her husband seemed to be enjoying it. Already, they had done things she had never even dreamed doing and now it looked like Donna was going to do something Anne had always thought to be an unnatural act. Once, a girlfriend had told her that that was what homosexuals did to one another. And now, she was watching a husband and wife do it!
She couldn't tear her eyes from the size of Phil Blocker's cock. It seemed too big to be real and when she tried to imagine such a thing in her own cunt, a shiver of fear and desire went through her body and she felt her own cunt getting moist and beginning to twitch. She squeezed her naked thighs together and found it only intensified her desire, making her feel more restless and wanting to move her hips.
In the other house, on her knees, Donna looked at her husband's prick held tightly in her hands and at the drop of cum, clear and white, on the end of it. It was right in front of her face and she let her wet tongue slowly stick out and she licked the cum off with the tip of her tongue and tasted it, smacking her lips. "Suck it!" Phil hissed above her, his strong fingers tangling in her long black hair.
As Jim watched, he saw Donna straighten and arch her back so that her buttocks stuck out, tight and provocative and he saw her rib cage thrust up so that her breasts jutted out and she moved her shoulders back and forth in a lewd rhythm so that the nipples of her breasts brushed and rubbed all over his cock. Then, as Jim watched and began to stroke his own cock, he saw her take Phil Blocker's wanger and wedge it between her breasts, burying it in the sensual softness of her cleavage. She smiled down, tilting her head and, with her hands, she cupped her breasts and bunched them around the cock, trapping it with her own soft flesh.
Then, as Jim almost moaned aloud, he saw her tongue lick out and the flat wetness of it run all over the mushroom head. Then, lifting her breasts, she took the thick head in her mouth and sucked obscenely on it.
Phil, his legs spread and his knees bent, his hands clutching her hair, slowly began to pump his hips back and forth, fucking his wife in the mouth while she sucked, her eyes closed, her breasts swelling and bunching obscenely as Phil pushed his hard groin up against her.
Jim felt himself hornier than he had ever been before and he stroked his cock harder and faster, wishing he could do such a thing to Anne. Anne? hell, he thought, I'd love to do it to her, to Donna Blocker!
They were growing wilder now and Phil was increasing the rhythm and savageness of his thrusts, sticking the thick shaft of his big prick halfway into her mouth. Donna's lips were tight around the wet shaft as she felt it slipping back and forth, ramming home into the back of her mouth and she couldn't-didn't want-to hold her pose and her hands fell away as she sucked with her eyes closed and she spread her legs, kneeling with her knees far apart and, as Phil held her by the hair and one hand stroked the thick rock-hard shaft of his cock, her other hand found her own throbbing cunt and her fingers played with her oiled clitoris and her hips gyrated as she increased her own horniness.
Anne watched, her breasts heaving, her hands beginning to run over her own body under her negligee. She wondered what it would be like to act like Donna Blocker, to pretend-just once-that she was nothing more than a slut, a whore. She thought it must be exciting to be so abandoned and lewd and, unconsciously, her fingers were kneading her negligee up, baring her legs and thighs.
Across the way, Donna was sawing two fingers in and out of her cunt as she sucked, her lips tight and her teeth delicately biting on the hard shaft. Her cunt felt aflame and nothing she could do satisfied it. In fact, as she watched Donna, Anne felt her own desire growing at the dizzy pitch as she began to move her loins back and forth and felt, with a guilty twinge of lewdness, her own fingers delicately touch the swollen lips of her own vagina.
She stood, trembling in fine spasms as she watched the pagan scene across the way. She watched as the two of them gyrated faster and wilder, reaching a stage of wildly brutal abandon as the muscles bulged in Phil's arms as he clutched his wife's head in his hands and fucked her in the mouth with all his might, hammering his cock home into the back of her mouth, causing her to choke and the veins in her neck to bulge.
Anne pulled her negligee up higher and separated her legs a little and let her fingers slide along her own moist slit. Never had she seen anything so savage and brutal and Donna seemed to be loving it!
And Donna was, sucking with all her might as she sawed her fingers back and forth, thrusting them as deep as they could go into her cunt and wiggling them around while her thumb twirled over her clitoris. Phil fucked her so hard that they lost their balance and fell heavily to the floor. Instantly, Donna was up, over her husband, crouched on all fours with her buttocks toward the Coleman's window.
Jim, in the den, his cock in his hand, saw Donna Blocker's lovely buttocks exposed. He moaned softly as he took in her thighs so firm and spread apart and the lovely curve of her twin cheeks with the deep cleft between them and there, there for him to see, was her tiny tight anus, puckered with excitement. And more. There, below her anus, at the swooping apex of her thighs, was her cunt. And, as he watched, he saw her spread her knees even further apart and he saw her cunt open. It spread lasciviously, red and glinting with moist excitement.
She crawled up her husband's body and took his prick in both her hands and licked it as she positioned her knees on either side of his head.
Jim felt the tip of his cock getting wet from cum and he couldn't help rhythmically stroking it as he watched Phil's arms come up and cup her buttocks in his hands and pull her groin down on top of his face. At the same time, Donna Blocker opened her mouth wide and took his huge prick in her mouth and sucked.
Anne, in the bedroom had her negligee up around her waist now and she stood by the drapes, watching, her buttocks pumping as her fingers slid hypnotically up and down her cunt and she wondered what would happen if Jim came into the room now to find her with her naked buttocks. Her two bare cheeks undulating in an inviting manner. What would he do? Would he take her and do the obscene things to her that Phil Blocker was doing to Donna? And, she thought, her body quivering with desire, how would she act?
She couldn't believe what she was seeing. It was impossible for two people to act in such a lewdly animal way. They were on the floor now, with Donna on top of her husband, their bodies pressed together as she sucked, her head bobbing up and down, on his cock, while her buttocks undulated and pumped as he licked on her cunt and their bodies writhed and moved together in a dance of pleasure and obscenity.
In the other house, Donna felt the delicious hot lickings of his tongue as she gyrated her hips, trying to get that tongue deeper in her cunt, and felt the first surgings of an orgasm and flirted with the notion of letting it come, her hips twitching, then decided no, not yet. She pulled away from her husband's wild grasp with a wicked smile and scrambled to her feet, saying, "Wait!" and running to the bathroom.
Anne felt her eyes glued to the naked figure of Phil lying on the floor. His chest was heaving and his cock was huge and red and wet and bulging. She couldn't take her eyes from that cock. She couldn't help herself now as her breath came light and fast and she spread her legs even further and, for the first time in her life, she put her finger up her own cunt and felt it slide in and send lewd shivers of pleasure up and down her spine. Tentatively, she sawed in and out as she stared at Phil Blocker's prick and imagined herself there, in the room, alone with him.
She felt dizzy from passion and closed her eyes for a moment and licked her lips. What am I doing? she wondered. A portion of her mind told her that she shouldn't be watching, that what she was watching was obscene and wrong. Yet, another, growing, side of her told her that it was exciting.
Donna came back into view holding a large bottle in her hand and Jim sat up again, clutching his prick. She stood over her husband and provocatively put one foot on either side of his head so that when he looked up, he saw her long legs and curved thighs and cunt and firm slim stomach with her breasts jutting out as she smiled down at him, one hand on her hip as she slowly gyrated her hips. She tilted the bottle and Jim watched closely to see a clear liquid spill out and splash on Phil's big chest. Then Donna knelt by him and was smearing the liquid all over his body. Oil! Jim knew it was oil as Phil sat up, took the bottle and poured it on his wife's shoulders and smeared it all over her breasts so that they glistened in the lamplight.
"Jesus," he muttered as he watched them covering each other with oil. He watched Donna stand while Phil smeared shining oil all over her stomach and buttocks, massaging them as he did, letting his fingers slip into her tight crack and cover her anus with oil.
Donna stood, turning slowly as he covered her with the oil, spilling then smearing it on her stomach and thighs. And on the insides of her thighs and on her groin and even letting his fingers spread the lips of her cunt obscenely. He smeared the oil on her legs down to her stockings then stood and handed the bottle to his wife.
Anne's finger was imbedded in her cunt up to the second knuckle and she was using the muscles in her thighs and groin to squeeze her cunt around the finger as she felt her torment only increasing. She had to have something more. She felt she had to have a cock fucking her or go crazy as she watched Donna spread the glistening oil all over her husband's big muscular body and lovingly take his prick in her hands and cover it with slippery shining oil.
They stood there, their bodies so lewd as they caressed one another, their hands slipping and sliding all over. Anne wedged another finger into her inflamed cunt and sawed in and out with a driving desperation as she watched them move toward the bed.
The water bed! The one Donna talked about!
CHAPTER FOUR
Anne was possessed of a passion and a lewdness she had never felt before; her body rolling, twisting, turning as she rotated and pumped her buttocks back and forth-the more she moved the greater the tormenting desire became in her loins. And, she felt the delicious thrill of doing something wrong mingling and heightening her lewdness: watching the Blockers doing obscene things to one another.
Her mind was feverish, yet she retained just enough objectivity to realize that Donna had made a point of telling her about the bedroom window down on the beach. In fact, it almost seemed like she made a point of introducing herself in order to tell her about what went on in their bedroom. Although Anne had led a sheltered life, she was not so naive or stupid as to think it was all just an accident. It was planned; it was a brazen lewd act they were performing for her benefit. It was planned and they were now carrying out their plan in full view, knowing she might be watching.
She was on her knees now, her breasts heaving as she watched through heavy-lidded eyes, both of her hands on her cunt, her arms squeezing her large heavy breasts together, her fingers spreading her cunt lips wide while her thumbs slipped and slid over her clitoris. Her nostrils flared and her breath seemed hot, heated by the boiling cauldron in her loins. She had to have something, anything, that would satisfy her compulsive desire.
With one last hot look at the window, she got to her feet and hurried to the bathroom, desperate to find something she could put up her vagina. In her haste, in the dark, she hit a glass on the sink, and, horrified, heard it rattle across the marble top then fall to the floor where it seemed to explode and make a sound which she was sure could be heard all over their house.
She stood, holding her breath, listening. Panic coursed through her as she heard a sound and ran from the bathroom, desperately straightening her negligee out as she headed for the bed.
Anne's head turned to the door as it opened. Jim stood silhouetted in the doorway, his hand on the knob, his legs wide apart. Anne stood in profile to him, her breasts sticking out their pointed nipples as they heaved. Jim went across the room with quick strides and he stood by the drapes where they were parted. Then he came back to his wife and stood near her. She could hear his heavy breathing and knew he was excited as she was. "You've been watching," he said in a low voice.
"Yes," she whispered.
Without a word, he took her by the arm and led her back to the window and stood behind her, his arms tight around her waist. With a lewd thrill that sent goose bumps all over her body, she felt his erect cock pressing against the crack of her buttocks. She let her head fall back on his chest as she half closed her eyes and let her hips sway and felt their naked hot flesh separated only by her flimsy negligee and his thin pajamas.
Across the way, Donna, her body glistening, her legs in black stockings, was crawling on the water bed and they watched as she lay on her back. She seemed to be floating and the slightest movement of her hips made the rest of her body ripple and undulate as she lay on the bed, one knee slightly up while her hands were slipping and sliding all over her breasts and stomach.
Then, as they watched, she let the raised knee fall open, revealing her crotch. With a lazily lewd motion, her whole body in constant effortless motion due to the effects of the water movement in the bed, she raised her other knee and let it fall open and lay with her legs obscenely split and her hips slowly rising and falling.
"Jesus!" Jim said, his mouth dry and his voice hoarse. He put his hands over his wife's breasts and fondled them, playing with the taut nipples. "They're doing it for us," he whispered in her ear.
Anne exploded, "Yessssss!" in a hiss and turned on him, pressing her soft body up against his, her arms around his neck, her tongue buried in his mouth. They sank to the floor, struggling, tearing at one another's flimsy garments.
Within seconds, they were naked and he was on top of her and she was spreading her legs obscenely, her hips thrusting up. Never before, in their short marriage, had Anne been so hot. "They're doing it so that we can see," he said again.
And the words seemed to drive Anne wild. She struggled, one hand wedged between them and wildly groping for his penis. Jim knew she was excited and all kinds of dark enticing thoughts came to his mind. He saw it all in a flash and before he knew it, he was whispering in her ear with a kind of cold-blooded enjoyment in the lewdness of what he was suggesting. "How would you like to do that? How about if they watched us make love?"
The words were like a flashbulb going off in Anne's mind! "Yes!" she whispered, "I'd love it! "
A sadistic enjoyment came over Jim, a sense that he could control his spouse like never before. With a lewd sense of power, a tight little smile on his lips, he put the head of his cock between her legs and thrilled to the moistness and felt from her open, ready cunt. Slowly, driving her mad, he rubbed the head up and down her slit. "How about if they were in the room with us?" he whispered.
"Oh, God!" Anne's head thrashed back and forth as she thrust her hips up with all her might. "Jim! I want it! "
"Want what?" he asked sadistically.
"In me! I want it in me!" she moaned.
"With them watching?"
"Yes, yes! Yes, with them watching! I told you! I'd love it! Fuck me, fuck me!" she whispered with an intensity he had never heard before. Nor had he ever heard her use the word "fuck," and it sent obscene thrills through both of them.
"In the same room as us?" he persisted.
"Yes! Yes! YES, YES! "
Slowly, his face set, he sunk the head of his cock into her cunt, feeling it slip in tight and lubricated and feeling the muscles of her groin making her cunt contract around the head as if she were trying to gobble up more. Bracing himself he stopped and she moaned and made wild animal sounds. "Supposing they were in the same room and they were naked?" he whispered.
"Oh God, yes, fuck me, fuck me, I want it! In the same room and naked and watching!" she wailed.
"Do you really want that?"
"Yes, yes, I'd love it, I want it, let's do it!" She was practically screaming now and Jim began to slowly saw in and out of her cunt and she responded like a wild animal, her hips pumping obscenely, demanding much more.
Jim licked his dry lips, took a breath, felt his own cock swelling in her cunt at the idea, and said, "Supposing we were all on the same bed?"
"I... I... I'mmmmmmmm cummmmmmming!" Anne moaned, her eyes showing white.
Instantly, surprised at his own strength and willpower, Jim pulled his cock out and looked down at her, his face hard. "Answer me!" he demanded.
Anne was under him, writhing, sweating, her breasts jutting out, her hips twitching. "Yes! I'd love it! You could fuck her, you could fuck Donna and he could fuck me!"
"We could swap?"
"Yes, yes! God! Yes, we could swap."
"Would you like that?"
"I'd love it, oh, God, I'd love it! We could fuck all night!"
He couldn't stand any more. He fell on her with a wild abandon, his cock plunging home and they fucked with all their might, all reserve gone. They fucked like two wild animals, bouncing across the floor. Jim turned his head to look out the window. Across the way he saw Phil and Donna Blocker, their bodies glistening, roiling and rolling on the water bed, undulating up and down while their bodies moved obscenely and he imagined them a writhing, sliding, slipping mass and he imagined fucking Donna Blocker while Phil and his wife watched.
Below him, he felt Anne's hot body beginning to quiver then shake uncontrollably and he tore his eyes from the Blocker window to see that she was watching too. Her mouth was open and wet, her eyes half closed and glazed with lust, her shaking growing into a spasm and her eyes rolled back in her head as her mouth opened wide and she screamed, "Ahhhhhhgggggaaaa!" and came, her orgasm making her flesh quiver in fine spasms and Jim felt like the head of his cock was going to swell and burst inside of her as he came, with a roar.
He pumped his hot sperm into her cunt then collapsed on top of his wife, weak and satisfied.
Slowly, he opened his eyes and focussed on the window across the way. Donna was on her stomach, on her knees, her buttocks sticking up invitingly and Phil was about to fuck her from behind. Below him, Anne was watching now too, and he felt desire growing in himself and in his wife's creamy pussy. They began moving together, watching the Blockers, their desire coming back as strong as ever.
Jim chuckled with an obscene delight. It was going to be a long night.
CHAPTER FIVE
The day was bright and the sky was an electric blue above. The sand was glaring in the sunlight and Frank Delasandro, watching the gulls wheel lazily in the air, knew it would be hot by noon time. He drove his pick up truck into town, whistling, his dark thin face happy. Last night had been quite a good night. It paid to cruise around the beach area. No telling what you might see. Frank, in his years, had seen quite a lot.
In his shirt pocket was a roll of film. In town, he would borrow his friends darkroom and develop the film. Frank was a blackmailer. If there is such a thing, he was a nice blackmailer. He spent many an evening driving up and down by the ocean, flicking off his lights at times and driving slowly by moonlight. Usually, he parked and walked. If anybody asked, he had a right to be there. Frank used what he saw to keep his position as a handyman and caretaker. Through the years, seeing things and remembering, he would drop a gentle hint. "Gee, that was some party you had last night. I was driving by on my way home and saw your wife. That was some fall she took, hope she's all right."
Wealthy vacationers, not wanting trouble, and, in most instances, not remembering what took place the night before because they were too drunk, were only too happy to keep him on and even find odd-jobs for him to do whenever he mentioned that business was slow or money was tight. It was a gentle, small-time kind of blackmail and no one really minded and Frank found himself in a cushy position with plenty of money.
Only a hint of knowing about some furtive sexual activity was enough. Just a little hint-the possibility that he might know something-was enough for him to set most couples up for life.
The night before, the Blocker bedroom light had shone like a beacon as Frank made his rounds. He had pulled off the road and parked and made his way up to the Coleman house on foot. One look at the Blocker bedroom window had sent him running back to his truck. Under the front seat, he found his Nikon camera fixed with the telescopic lens and infra-red flash attachments. The camera and attachments had cost him a lot of money and he had grown angry and resentful with himself, thinking he had wasted a lot of money as the weeks slipped into months and he could never find a use or opportunity to use his expensive camera.
Now he ran back toward the Blocker house, excited, eager, congratulating himself while hoping at the same time that they hadn't gone away or closed the drapes.
They hadn't. He made his way until he was under the Coleman bedroom window, his back to the wall. All was quiet in the Coleman house and he knelt and aimed the camera, squinting, bringing Phil and Donna into sharp, magnified clarity. "Jesus Jumping Christ!" he muttered as his greedy eye flowed over Donna's naked body.
He began clicking and focussing, taking pictures rapidly, wanting to get the whole roll in. A crash of glass in the Coleman house above and behind him almost made him scream aloud and he froze, his heart beating wildly. His instinct was to get the hell out of there, for it was one thing for him to be seen on the strip at night and quite another to be found cowering against the house in the middle of the night with a camera in his hands. If found, he could blow the whole thing right then and there.
Yet he couldn't move. He held his breath and pressed his body up against the house, underneath the window and listened. Someone was moving by the window above his head and he heard a male voice say something. He closed his eyes and muttered a prayer. He could see it all in the morning paper: FRANK DELASANDRO ARRESTED AS A PEEPING TOM. Frank Delasandro, employed as a handyman and caretaker along the strip was arrested late last night on a complaint made by Mr. and Mrs. James Coleman...
Wildly, he tried to think of some believable reason why he should be doing what he was doing and nothing came to his mind. Above his head, he heard a thump and heavy breathing and hasty words. He blinked and cocked his head. They were talking! They didn't know he was there! He decided to crawl away on his hands and knees and started to do so when he heard Jim Coleman's muffled voice ask, "Would you like to do that? How about if they watched us making love?"
"Yes, I'd love it!" he heard Mrs. Coleman reply.
Frank crouched lower. There was a bedroom air vent on the floor and he could hear them quite clearly as he put his head down low. He crawled under the house and knelt with his ear right by the vent. He was so close he could even hear their heavy breathing. They were fucking on the floor, right above him!
"How about if they were in the room with us?" he heard Jim Coleman ask.
"Oh God!" he heard her say and he felt his own erection growing. "Jim! I want it!"
"Want what?"
"In me! I want it in me!"
"With them watching?"
"Yes, yes! Yes, with them watching! I told you! I'd love it! Fuck me, fuck me!"
A wild idea was in Frank's mind. He crawled back out from under the house and slowly, his head by the corner of the window, he stood and peeked with one eye. There, not two feet from him, were the Colemans, on the floor, naked, and fucking! Mrs. Coleman's fantastic build almost made him groan aloud. Chancing it, he took off the telescopic attachment and focussed, clicked the shutter and dropped down and scrambled under the house, putting his ear by the vent.
He heard Anne's wild throaty voice... in the same room and naked and watching!"
"Do you really want that?"
"Yes, yes, I'd love it, I want it, let's do it!"
Frank had heard enough. He made himself crawl out from under the house and along the foundation until he reached the road. One last hungry look at the Blocker's window and he saw Mrs. Blocker naked, on her knees, her breasts glistening with oil and jiggling on the bed while she waved her naked buttocks invitingly, showing her tight anus and swollen cunt. He had just enough time to screw the telescopic attachment back in place and take a picture of her before he saw Phil, with his huge prick in his hand, fall on her and begin fucking from behind like a bull on a heifer.
He ran back to his truck, put the camera under the seat and slapped his hands together, breathing a sigh of relief. He laughed out loud and said, "Frank, I think you're one smart fellow and you're on to something!"
He couldn't sleep that night, tossing and turning in bed next to his wife. She was sound asleep and she wasn't bad looking at all but she was nothing compared with the Blocker woman. And the Coleman woman! He groaned aloud. His mind was racing with all kinds of thoughts: money, lots of money if he handled it right, if he had the nerve. More than that, there was sex. Sex, and the possibility of his fucking those beautiful women, made him grit his teeth and clench his fists. Frank Delasandro inside, fucking Mrs. Blocker. What was her first name? "Donna," he said softly and he imagined himself calling her that. "Donna, suck my cock!" he whispered.
His imagination soared. There were plenty of afternoons when husbands took the trains back into New York City and left their wives alone. Plenty of time for him to drive out there, drink some of their expensive booze and then fuck their wives. Hell, he could even have the two of them together. "Mama mia," he muttered.
And the next morning he was whistling and singing, being extra nice to his wife, saying, "Got to go in town on some errands. Then, I got some work to do."
Developing the film was an easy job and the results were everything he hoped for. Many shots of the Blockers and one of the Colemans; all of them clear and graphic. He looked at his watch and decided to have a cup of coffee. It was still early and he was fairly sure none of them would be up too soon after a night like that one and he could use the time, allowing his fine Italian mind to scheme.
He was right. Jim and Anne slept as if stunned. Across the way, the Blockers did the same. When Anne awoke, it was bright light outside and she realized all of the night before in vivid detail.
This particular morning, the sun had risen and was high and hot in the sky and Anne was looking at her husband heavily asleep beside her and realizing another truism, another cliche: the cold light of day.
Cliches stick around for so long simply because they contain a germ of truth and it is that eternal nagging truth that makes us all become so infuriated with cliches. "As different as night and day." Indeed, it was the same man, Jim, her husband, beside her, and she was surely the same woman she was the night before, but it was all different now.
How could she look at her husband after the things she said and did the night before? On their honeymoon, just married and already she was talking of things she had never dreamed of doing! Not only talking, but doing things that were wild and obscene and agreeing with her husband to do perverted things! And loving it! The thick, wild excitement she had felt had been insane. Once caught up in it, she could do nothing but go along with it, eager to do it, finding her body driven to a mad ecstasy by it.
Yet, she knew she couldn't do any of those things and a sense of guilt and shame came over her. What kind of a marriage were they planning? She was acting like a whore. Their lives could end in a terrible mess. Above all was a worry she couldn't, didn't dare articulate: what did Jim think of her if he could expect her to do things; things such as he suggested the night before-things that she had to admit excited her beyond all reason and sanity.
It would be crazy to get mixed up with the Blockers. She had heard about people like them but never really believed they existed. She had thought them, the product of dirty minds and wishful thinking. Now, she knew they existed. They were very real to her. They were next door. If she had met them at a cocktail party, she would have thought them a handsome couple who fitted the sophisticated New York scene. What ever else she thought of them, she certainly wouldn't suspect they were the type to do what they did, advertise, then perform. There was something insidious and entrapping in the way Donna went about informing her of their bedroom activities.
And Jim knew about them!
They were rather formal and sheepish with each other; neither looking the other in the face. He didn't mention last night and Anne couldn't bring herself to do it. She ran around the house doing errands and cleaning up and beginning a big breakfast for him, chattering away all the time. She felt they had to get out of the house, had to find an excuse to get away so that she wouldn't be confronted by either of the Blockers. "Jim, let's go on a picnic today?"
"Okay," he smiled, reading the paper in the breakfast nook, casually dressed in chinos and a bright orange sweatshirt. "Where to?"
"How about Montauk Point? Lots of dunes out there."
"Sounds fine to me."
"I'll pack a lunch right after I cook breakfast."
Jim mumbled a reply, pretending to read the paper. Actually, his mind was like Anne's: he was thinking of last night and all of its ramifications. He was also sneaking peeks at his wife's voluptuous figure. Her slacks were tight and showed off her rounded firm buttocks invitingly. In spite of her bulky sweater, he savored her thin waist and imagined that firm stomach that wiggled in a tantalizing way whenever she was naked and walking.
He sipped at the hot cup of coffee she placed before him with a smile and took in her breasts which bulged against her sweater. They were so large, they should have sagged, but they didn't, forming quarter moons of shadow under her breasts when she stood in the right light. They were big firm breasts placed just right and he loved the way they jiggled and undulated whenever she walked as she did now: barer footed.
He had never seen her so excited as he had last night and he had never enjoyed her so much. And he worried. His upbringing and background was very different from Anne's and he worried. Why shouldn't they have a little excitement in their sex lives? He once read a book written by two researchers who had spent years compiling statistics and interviews. They came to the conclusion that nothing was abnormal or wrong so long as two adults consented. If it gave them pleasure, it was normal. The book went on to describe all sorts of sexual practices that both repelled and excited him. He had read the book in one night, long before they were married and, when he finally put it down, he knew they were right. His head was swimming, but they were right!
And now, he was eating a hearty breakfast and watching his wife. And thinking of Donna Blocker.
And the phone rang. It rang during a lull in their conversation and the sounds of breakfast being made. It jangled on the sunny morning air and vibrated throughout the house. It snapped their heads around to look at the phone that seemed to scream at them and then they looked at each other. It was a long look and it was an admittance that each of them knew who was calling.
Jim put his fork down with a metallic clink on his plate and looked at his wife while the phone rang demandingly for the third time. Clearing his throat, he got to his feet, saying, "I wonder who that could be?"
Anne didn't believe him anymore than she believed herself and both their voices sounded hollow as she answered, "I don't know, but we're going on a picnic." He walked to the phone, chewing on his food, swallowing, nodding as she added, a hint of an ominous tone in her voice, "With some friends."
He picked the phone up like he was afraid he was going to get an electric shock. "Hello?"
"Hello," a honeyed, slightly hoarse voice asked. "Is this Jim Coleman?"
"Yes," he answered, his mouth suddenly dry.
Although he had never heard her speak, the voice could only belong to one person: Donna Blocker.
"This is your neighbor, Donna Blocker."
"How do you do," he said politely, closing his eyes. "Did you want to speak to Anne?"
"No," the voice said, a husky teasing tone to it. "You're the man of the house." There was a throaty chuckle. "You'll do."
"Oh?" he answered in a little voice, wanting to kick himself for sounding so stupid. He had an excuse, for he imagined talking to her as she was the night before, still covered with oil and wearing only black stockings and high heels.
"Yes," she went on smoothly, "Jim was telling me about you, and I met Anne yesterday down on the beach and we thought we'd like you to stop by tonight for cocktails before dinner just to get acquainted. Would sixish be all right?"
"Oh?" he said again, turning his head to look at Anne who was standing by the stove looking at him. Her look told him to try and get out of it. "Gee, that sounds great, but I don't think we'll be able to make it. We're going on a picnic."
"A picnic? At six?" her voice sounded sardonic and amused.
"Yes. That's right," he said, his face flushing. "We're going with some friends and I... we are going out with them after."
"I see," Donna's voice said, drawing out the words in his ear. "Well, it sounds interesting."
"Yeah," he said, eager to end the conversation and hang up.
"Well, surely you're coming back to change before going out?"
Jim gave a professional laugh. "Yeah, well, that's what we're not sure of. We may take a change of clothes with us."
Donna laughed indulgently. "Sounds more and more interesting. I'd better not ask any more questions. Look, we won't push you. Let's leave it this way: if you get back and feel like it and want to come over around six, we'll be expecting you. If not then, another time."
"Okay, that's fine," Jim said, relieved. "Nice talking to you."
"Very nice talking to you," her voice said, pouring like cream into his ear. "Phil told me about you and I'm looking forward to meeting you."
"Same here. Bye."
"Bye."
He hung up and looked at his wife. He smiled slightly and said, "Aren't you going to ask me who that was?"
Anne turned away, her back to him as she busied herself over the stove. "What did they want?"
"They invited us over for cocktails before dinner. Around six tonight. I told them I didn't think we could make it."
"Good," she said and busied herself with running water and making sandwiches for the picnic. With her slamming around and running the water and washing the breakfast dishes, it was impossible to carry on a conversation. He went about packing things into the car, glancing every now and then at the Blocker house. He couldn't see any movement and he wondered what they thought.
Donna hung up the phone and smiled up at the ceiling. Phil, lying next to her on the water bed, lit a cigarette and handed it to her. "Well?"
She shook her head and grinned at him. "You've got some crazy kind of insight. He did almost exactly what you said he would do. He alibied their way out, and, it wasn't a very good alibi."
Phil chuckled to himself and lit his own cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke at the ceiling. "That clinches it. They watched."
"What next, oh-great-mastermind?"
"We wait," he answered, grinning at her. "Time and tide take care of everything."
"I thought you wanted to get them in bed with us, not wash them out to sea."
He reached over and kissed her on the mouth and caressed her naked breast. "Don't worry, they'll be here tonight. If not tonight, the next night."
"Phil, are you sure of what you're doing?" Donna asked, suddenly serious.
"Sure I'm sure."
"I mean, about... us."
He grinned down at her. "What's the matter, baby, getting cold feet?"
"Yes, frankly, from a lot of viewpoints. First, supposing you got involved with someone. Supposing it was that Anne Coleman. I mean, she's a knockout." She tried to avert her face from her husband's, for she felt a sexual thrill course through her and a color rise in her face beneath her tan. She felt she had better be careful not to let him know the lewd carnal feeling she felt for Anne's body.
"Come on, you know I love you."
"Yeah, right now. And here we are plotting how to swap mates. Supposing you should fall for her and leave me? That would kill me."
Phil looked up at the ceiling and laughed. "Oh, God, nothing like the feminine mind. Think a minute. If I can have any woman I want, why would I want to leave you? I can have you too!"
"Yeah," Donna said, "that's just what I mean."
"By the same token, you can have any man you want and have me too. There's no reason for us to part if only we act mature about it and realize what's important. Now be honest. Remember San Francisco? Wasn't that fun? Wasn't it more fun afterward? Admit it, didn't it excite you?"
"Yes," she admitted slowly, still not looking at him. "And that brings up another thing. I do like it. God, I love it and I'm afraid of it."
"Afraid?" he asked, really urging her to go on.
"Yes," she answered in a small whisper, "I'm afraid of what I can do, afraid of what I can become."
"What do you mean? Go on, say it," he said, his hand slipping down her naked stomach, feeling her muscles tense under his touch as his hand trailed down to her pubic hair and his index finger found the slit of her cunt buried between her thighs. Gently, he began rubbing it up and down.
"Oh, Phil," she breathed softly.
"Come on, tell me what's on your mind."
She licked her lips and fought against the feeling deep in her loins. "Well, where do we draw the line?"
"Anywhere you want. All you have to do is say so."
"Where do I do that? I mean, what's wrong? What's bad?" she asked. Despite herself, and their conversation, the way his finger was teasing her, aroused her. The insatiable love of lust was coming back and her lips trembled as she said, "I mean, I try to imagine what it would be like if several men ... two or even three ... made love to me at the same time." She had said it and she felt a lewdness creep over her body like warm butter and her thighs relaxed and shifted apart ever so slightly as she felt a moistness growing in her cunt. The admission thrilled her and she went on in a trembling hoarse voice. "I try to imagine it and it excites me, it gets me hot. I imagine them making me do things, forcing me to do all kinds of things. I imagine being raped, treated like a whore!"
Her legs were apart and her knees slightly raised and she moaned with a kind of resigned delight as she felt his finger sink into the hot pulpy recesses of her cunt. "Oh, Phillllllll!"
"Go on," he urged, his own cock hardening as he rubbed it against her bare thigh. He knew-or suspected-her desires. And much more. Before he was through, she would be doing much more than even she imagined.
"Oh, God, sometimes I'm afraid of what I think and feel," she said as she stretched out, her lovely body now sprawled on top of the bed with Phil sawing his finger in and out of her cunt. She thrust her pelvis up and looked down between the mounds of her breasts and saw his hand pumping back and forth and felt his finger sliding in and out, lubricated by her rutting moistness. "I ... I ... sometimes imagine myself in a room. It's dark and it is crowded and I stand up on a chair and there are people crowded all around me and their hands are reaching for me. And they touch me and caress me and turn me all around and soon their hands are everywhere and they tear off my clothing and I try to stop them but I can't." Her eyes half closed, her nostrils were flaring and her buttocks contracting and rolling as she panted and moaned and writhed on the water bed and the two of them undulated obscenely and Phil reached and put his mouth on one nipple and bit and sucked.
Donna made a face and a feeble attempt to push his head away. It was hopeless; that heat, that passion, that wild sense of abandonment, that very explicit lewdness that Phil knew only too well how to arouse, was on her now. She could do nothing but go on, her voice a drone. "And soon I'd be naked and their hands would be all over me. Everywhere. And, gradually, slowly, their hands would pull me down into a mass of naked bodies!"
She couldn't stand it anymore! It was all mad and she was loving it! She felt that Phil would eventually make her do something that would wreck their marriage and their life.
She was wild, forcing his head away and, almost snarling, she fought for his cock and put it into her mouth and felt it hard and thick and hot and she sucked. She would do anything he said, she would go out on the street and sell her body if he wanted her to. She was afraid, but she would do anything he said and love the thrill of doing it!
Phil was wild, lying on his back on the bed while Donna crouched over him, her lips taut and stretched around the long thick shaft of his cock. He seized her head in his hands and began thrusting up with his cock. He fucked her in the mouth brutally, making her choke as he drove his battering ram cock home.
The waterbed was rocking with motion and they rose and fell as if on a boat in a heavy swell as he fucked and Donna's finger searched for his anus. He came with a guttural roar in her mouth and lay still as they rode gently up and down and Donna gulped the thick hot sperm and swallowed it and gulped for more.
They gradually subsided, rocking slowly, and Donna let his prick slide from her mouth, then, reaching to hold it in her hand, she greedily licked the cum off the massive head until it was limp in her hand. She crawled up and lay on top of him, kissing him on the mouth. "God, you got me hot."
"Good, that's the way I want you."
"What do you mean?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.
"I mean I want you so hot tonight that when they come in the door, you'll cum in your panties." He kissed her, pecking her cheeks. "And I'm going to keep you hot for the rest of the day. We'll play, but no orgasm for you."
Donna looked at him a moment, incredulous, before saying, "Phil Blocker, you are one mean son-of-a-bitch!"
CHAPTER SIX
After Donna Blocker's call, Jim's mind was working and working fast. He backed the car and tried to calm himself. It was up to him now. Phil Blocker had told him, then carried the thing off. And Anne had been excited. Now she was being a puritan and not mentioning anything. She wanted to get away. Okay, they would. But the invitation still stood. With a smile, he packed three bottles of wine in the trunk.
It was blazing hot in the dunes out on the point and they found a hollow out of the whipping breeze and sat down to picnic. Jim stripped to his trunks then sat and watched as his wife pulled her voluptuous way out of her sweater, pulling it off over her head and standing in only a bikini bra, her breasts barely caught and held in place. They seemed to be swelling all around the halter as if bursting to be free.
He had the added arousing pleasure of watching her wiggle her hips free from her tight slacks. And, as he watched, one corner of the slacks caught on her bikini and pulled it down and he caught a glimpse of her blonde pubic hair before she pulled it back up.
They ran in the surf and then walked far up the beach looking for shells and oddities. Then they swam and body surfed and came back to their towels dripping wet. They lay in the sun, lazy, not talking much, while they dried off.
Finally, Jim cleared his throat. "What did you think of last night?"
Anne put an arm over her eyes. "What do you mean?" she asked defensively.
"Did you enjoy it?"
There was a long pause during which the surf boomed and ebbed before she said, "Yes, in a way."
"In what way?"
"Well, I don't think I'd ever like to do that again."
Jim remained silent for a long time. "Does that mean you don't want to go over there for cocktails tonight?"
"Well," she raised her arm and looked at him. "I'd rather not, if you don't mind."
Jim thought about it and was about to change the subject when he asked one more question. "Does that mean you don't want to go over any night?"
"Well, what do you think?"
"I think we should be neighborly. Having a drink can't hurt."
"They don't seem like the kind of people I would like very much," she said, turning away.
"Okay, forget it," he said, getting up and grinning down at her. "Let's have some lunch. I'm starved and I think I've got some wine in the car."
They had lunch during which Jim urged Anne to drink wine. They ate and finished the bottle and walked some more. Anne yawned. "I feel sleepy."
"All this sun and fresh air. Let's take a nap."
They headed back to their towels and Jim positioned the beach umbrella and they lay in the shade. The combination of sun and wine made him feel sleepy too. He grinned and said, "All I was thinking was, we can't stay out of our beach house through all of our honeymoon. And we can't keep making excuses. Sooner or later, we'll have to see them. Hell, they might be nice people."
Anne yawned. "Sometime; maybe we'll go out to dinner with them."
When they awoke, it was late afternoon and the sun lay in the west, hot and heavy. Jim broke out more wine and they lay drinking and talking. The combination of wine and sun had its effect on Anne and he noticed little signs; a giggle, a slight slurring of words. He put his arm around her and said, "You really got me excited last night."
She smirked. "It was fun."
"Tell me the truth, how did you know about them? The Blockers?" he asked.
She tried to act indignant but failed, laughing and wagging a finger. "Oh, no, you tell me."
He grinned. "Phil dropped over and told me."
"I knew it!" Anne said as he refilled her glass. "I knew something like that happened. Donna told me."
Jim winked at her, toasting her and urging her to drink with his motion. "Sounds like a conspiracy."
Anne raised her eyebrows. "Sounds like? It is. They did that on purpose."
"Here's to us, honey, we both had them spotted."
They clinked glasses and drank. Anne looked at her husband with a bleary smile. "But you didn't tell me," she said, pouting.
"And you didn't tell me. Tit for tat, pardon the pun."
Anne laughed at his humor then said, "But you sneaked off to watch."
Jim refilled her glass. "Yup, yup. And what were you looking at, the stars?"
Again, Anne had to laugh. It was true. "Aren't we awful?"
"I'll drink to that," Jim said and clinked glasses.
Vaguely, Anne agreed. She drank half her glass before sputtering and saying, "Hey, what are we drinking to? To being bad?"
"Whatever you want to drink to."
"Hey, I'm getting swacked on this stuff."
"Why don't we take our suits off and sunbathe?"
"Out here?" she asked, looking around while trying to focus her eyes. "Not out here."
"Why?"
"People can see."
"We haven't seen anybody all day. There isn't a soul around for miles."
"Somebody could come."
"At least take your bra off."
"Why?" she asked, biting her lower lip to hide a smile.
The wine and the sun made her head reel and her body relaxed and a tingle of the sexual heat and pleasure she had felt the night before stirred deep in her loins.
"I like to look at you naked," Jim said. And his frankness made her feel good. She put one arm under her breasts and reached with the other hand behind her and unsnapped the clasp and the bra fell limp, held up only by her arm.
"Does my body excite you?" she asked, feeling a pleasure in exciting her husband.
In answer, Jim lifted his hips off the towel and slipped his trunks off while Anne squealed and tried to stop him and one of her breasts sprang free and its pink nipple grew taut. "Jim, somebody could see us!"
"We can see them coming a long way off. What are you worried about? We're married."
She looked down at his naked body, her eyes travelling to his cock that was beginning to swell thick and blood red as she watched it. She was looking at her husband's cock but it was Phil Blocker's massive prick the night before she was thinking about. And the things he did with it.
And her passion was back. The wine had dulled her mind and it was too late. She could feel moistness in her cunt like it was oiled. A raging, consuming fire seemed to burn in her groin and there was that hammering need to be satisfied. She looked around quickly, wiping strands of hair from her eyes. Seeing no one, she let her arm fall and her breasts were bared to the sun and her husband's greedy gaze and to whomever else could see. They were white in comparison with the rest of her body and Jim's tanned hands came up and cupped them.
With a moan, she fell on his body and felt his naked hot cock pressed against her belly. He pulled her bikini panties off and she let him and her snow white buttocks were exposed to the sun and she split her legs and drew them up so that she was kneeling over him. Her buttocks were spread wide, her deep crack between the cheeks showing her anus and her swollen, parting vaginal lips dribbling with love juice.
"Relax, darling," she whispered, slipping her hand down and feeling the head of his cock and guiding it to the inflamed lips of her cunt and running it up and down the slit and over her distended clitoris, feeling the end of it lubricated by her desire. "Lay perfectly still. Let me do all the work," she whispered as she positioned the head of the cock and sunk down on it, feeling it spread the walls of her cunt wide and hearing him moan underneath her. "I'm going to please you," she murmured, feeling her own desire rage as she began to pump her hips obscenely and feel the prick sawing in and out of her cunt.
On a far away sand dune, crouched behind a bush, sighting under it like a combat photographer, Frank Delasandro was getting some great shots to add to his growing collection. The roll finished, he lay on his stomach and watched through the telescopic sights as Anne rose and fell, naked and looking like something out of a technicolor movie of a beauty on a pagan island. Her huge breasts jiggled and ballooned on her husband's chest as she pumped with her hips, thrusting down to flatten on him and gyrate her hips around.
Jim felt his cock growing with each thrust and he pushed his hips up and seized her hair with his hands and kissed her, running his tongue in her mouth. He pulled free and put his lips by her ear and whispered, "It was fun, wasn't it?"
"Yes!" she whispered.
Jim's eyelids fluttered and he felt an orgasm coming and he relaxed, his mouth open. He wanted it to come. He was excited, for he was fairly sure he could get her over to the Blocker's tonight. And... then? Then, he told himself, anything could happen.
"I'm going to cum!" he breathed.
Anne was panting and her body was covered with a film of sensual sweat as she pumped harder, saying, "Wait... for... me!"
But her increased rhythm and lewdness only made him cum all the sooner and he came with a cry, his body stiffening as he shoved his cock far up in her cunt and pumped hot cum deep inside her.
And then he relaxed as she desperately tried to keep pumping. But, it was no use and soon she lay on top of him panting, his cock still in her cunt with her cunt twitching and thick with his cum. "Later, at home," he whispered and she fell off him and rolled on her back, her breasts jutting up and her blonde pubic hair looking dark in the sun.
He looked at his watch. "Hey," he said, getting up on one elbow and looking down at her naked body with her breasts heaving with a slowly subsiding desire and he resisted the impulse to start in again. "It's getting late. Where did the time go? We'd better be getting back."
They dressed silently with Anne not looking at him. The frustration in her body, her desire mingled with her foggy mind and made her resentful. That was the first time he had failed to satisfy her. Jim opened the last bottle and handed her a glass which she drank down, feeling thirsty from all the sweating. "I want to get home and take a hot shower then I want to make love," she said sullenly. She was getting too drunk on a combination of wine and sun. She was thinking all kinds of strange things: like stalking down the beach naked, like going over and telling the Blockers off. Yeah, going over to their house and showing them up for what they were.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Donna Blocker hung up the phone again and stood as if stunned. She turned to Phil who cocked an eye and she said, "Fix me a bloody Mary, will you? Phil, just how the hell do you figure these things?"
"Human nature, baby."
"Do you know who that was?"
"One of the Colemans," he said in a bored voice.
"One of the ... That was Anne herself. She sounded as if she had had a little too much to drink and said-in no uncertain terms that she and her husband were taking us up on our invitation for drinks."
"Great!"
"Phil?"
"What?"
"I'm scared," Donna said, biting her lips prettily. "I mean, supposing it doesn't work out? Supposing it gets into an ugly scene?"
"You just be yourself, do as I say, dress like I say and there won't be any trouble at all. It was Anne that called, huh?"
"Yes, I thought it would be Jim."
"So did I. Apparently the puritan in Anne is a pretty lustful soul. This is going to be easier than I thought. Look, get ready, get dressed and let's have some hors de'oeuvre out. Not that they'll eat. You put that dress on that I told you about. Okay? "
Donna gave him a smile. "It's going to be a big night."
Both the Colemans were pretty tipsy by the time they walked the distance between their summer homes. Anne held hands with Jim and gripped him fiercely. A great change came over her since the beach and now she seemed to be barely able to conceal a fierce sexuality. She looked at her husband with a smutty smile. "Maybe we'll be in the bedroom where we saw them the other night, right where they were ..."
"Yes?" he asked, looking at her and cocking his head.
"Fucking," she said and the word seemed to hang in the air like some kind of heavy liquid or a blanketing fog through which they had to walk. She had said it so deliberately and slowly. Since last night and this afternoon, she was a different person. Something roiled in her groin and wouldn't go away.
While dressing at home, Jim had mixed martinis and they each had one before going to the Blocker's. Anne was wearing a bright orange dress that was cut lower than anything she possessed. If her husband was going to another woman, she was damn well sure she was going to get another man looking at her.
And Phil Blocker was the man to look. He met them at the front door and stood there with a leer on his face, mentally undressing Anne.
Anne had to sit carefully, for she realized just how much she'd had to drink and she thought: I'm getting swacked! I'd better take it easy.
Jim and Phil were awkward and almost hostile toward one another until Phil, after mixing all the drinks, offered immediately to show them around the house. Each then felt they had something to talk about until they got to the bedroom and Phil said, "And here is the magic waterbed. Would you care to try it out?"
Anne gave a stifled kind of laugh and Jim shrugged with some color coming to his face. Suddenly, the conversation was gone like a capricious wind, leaving them all becalmed, standing around the bed, none of them knowing what to say. Phil let out a snort, took a good slug of his drink and said, "Why don't you two girls try it out together?"
"Sounds like a great idea to me," Donna said right on cue and flopped down on the bed, looking at Anne and giving out a confidential woman laugh. Anne giggled-and joined her, her eyes widening as she felt herself lying on warm fluid that molded itself to her body perfectly.
It was like floating on the top of a bath. It was so unexpectedly enjoyable that she let out a little laugh as they undulated with waves of warm water passing beneath their cool bodies as they relaxed.
Jim tried to conceal his reaction and pretend he was choking on his drink as he turned away. Donna Blocker wasn't wearing anything under her miniskirt! He had been standing next to Phil, looking down and trying to keep the lechery out of his face as he looked at her petite form with those firm well-shaped breasts straining to get out from underneath her dress. Donna had laughed at Anne and Anne laughed back and Donna had kind of kicked her legs and he saw the naked lewd tight bottom of her buttocks, saw the deep crack between her tight cheeks and saw a flash of black pubic hair and a hint of a vulva-the rapidly swelling vaginal lip.
Jim cleared his throat and turned to smile down at Anne. Her dress was riding pretty high on her thighs and he began to wonder if she had anything more on than Donna! Again, his eyes slipped down. Donna Blocker was wearing a very simple white miniskirt that clung to her form like honey to a cracker and lay with it above her thighs, plainly exposing her cunt to his eyes. He looked up to see a defiant smile on her face and then down to see her soft downy pubic hair and the lips of her cunt folded deep between her legs.
He looked at Anne not knowing what to do and discovered that Anne was not looking at him; she was looking at Phil as his frankly greedy eyes took in her Olympian form and they exchanged long looks and smiles. There the two women were, naked underneath their clothes, so desirable as they made the water move underneath them with subtle movements of their hips and shoulders that set the water in motion so that other relaxed parts of their bodies might undulate and rotate.
Jim was paralyzed, not knowing what to do, unable to take his eyes from Donna's petite and creamy little cunt. Perhaps she didn't know, perhaps he was the only one in the whole room that knew.
Phil Blocker solved-shattered-that quandary for him by lying down on the bed next to his wife and kissing her firmly on the mouth while his hand reached down and carelessly mussed her dress so that more of her cunt-her whole flat firm stomach-was visible.
Anne was not looking at her husband, she was looking at Phil Blocker, next to her, kissing his wife. And abandoned lewdness went through her like she never felt before. It was with a hungry beseeching look that she finally turned to Jim and begged him with open arms, to share the delights of their neighbors' water bed.
He flopped down beside her, making more waves and causing Phil to lift his head and whisper something that burned like acid. "Come on, what the hell!"
They all knew what he meant and not a word was said when he rolled over and snapped the lights out. A full moon hung over the ocean, illuminating each breaker as they came in and slowly, the room was flooded with soft light that seemed to make each figure stand out more distinctly yet darkened shadows in the room and Donna's visible crotch took on even a deeper mystery.
"Come on, what the hell!" The words snapped through the air like electricity and Jim was conscious of a vicious red-hot hard-on that had been building in his pants ever since they started walking over and he felt Anne's hands glide lightly over his groin as one of her knees raised itself in the air. Only she wasn't looking at her husband, she was looking into the eyes of Phil Blocker.
Outside, Delasandro sat in his parked truck, cursed the bright moonlight and watched the Blocker bungalow, waiting for any light to come on before he left the safety of his truck and ventured out.
Inside the house, Phil Blocker put his hand over his wife's cunt as she spread her legs ever so slightly and he heard a low tortured moan escape her lips as his middle finger expertly felt her wetness. Yet his eyes were on the writhing Nordic figure of Anne next to Donna. Jim had his hand up her skirt and was feeling around while Anne was using both her hands to unzip his pants and feel for his prick in the moonlight.
Phil grinned to himself; it was always the way, the most timid, the most haughty, the most superior, were always the most sensuous, always the most lewd and, yes, obscene, in their behavior.
It was true, after the night before and after the sexually exciting but frustrating afternoon on the beach, Anne found herself the driving force of the foursome! After Phil's dare, she was now taking her tense husband's prick out of his pants and stroking it in front of two virtual strangers! It was wrong, it was evil, it was humiliating and it was lewd and sensual and obscene and she was loving every minute of it as she stared daringly at Phil Blocker's face with a somewhat drunken defiance.
Donna was following suit and unzipping Phil's pants as he ran his hands up under her miniskirt and felt and caressed her naked breasts.
Then it was Anne kneeling in the moonlight, rising on her knees to peel her dress off over her head and toss it into the shadows on the floor. Then it was Anne, brazen, utterly unashamed, taking off her bra like she was a stripper in a private club, knowing that three other people on the bed were watching her breasts pop free, seeing them leap in unison as the flimsy bra fell away and her breasts, with the nipples standing out taut and bullet-shaped in the moonlight, revealing her excitement in all its wanton splendor. Her hands drifted languidly from her breasts down over the smoothly flat firmness of her stomach and rested on her bikini panties. In a slow sensuous wiggling lift of each knee, she was free of them and naked.
Donna, aided by Phil was next, simply pulling her dress up over her head and abandoning it as she writhed naked, next to her husband and a kneeling Anne with Jim on the far side, looking at Donna's nakedness between his wife's thighs.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Phil taking off his clothes and he did likewise, tearing at his shirt and pants in his frantic effort to become naked.
Phil took the play away from Anne by crawling over his wife's legs to lewdly take in Anne's naked loveliness, her luscious full thighs, wide hips with a slim all around waist that topped firm beautiful full buttocks.
Anne responded to his gaze by falling back on the waterbed, allowing it to undulate her body in any way it wished as her tits jutted up into the air. Phil was like a big black shadow as he fell on her lovely naked body and they rocked together as Jim, feeling his cock aching so hard he thought it might break, crawled across the rolling surface of the waterbed to where a waiting Donna Blocker lay limp with her legs spread slightly.
Jim paused long enough to take in her loveliness and the way her thighs met to form the loveliness of her crotch and there, among the soft black pubic hair, was the slit of her cunt and he caught the glint of moonlight of the moistness captured there and he sensed her excitement was as wild as his own. Despite himself, he shivered; here he was, about to fuck another man's wife with the husband in the same room. More than that, his wife, his very own wife was right next to him and about to be fucked by another man. For one second, Jim thought he was going to cum right then and there. But, no; a surge, a greater feeling of lust and lewdness swept over him and hovering over Donna, using his elbows he gently lowered his weight on top of her while she slowly put her arms around his neck, her hand on the back of his neck, and slowly pulled his face down and slowly ran her tongue into his mouth as she equally slowly spread her shapely legs. She was petite and tanned, even in the moonlight, and her figure was full and voluptuous.
Carefully using his strength, containing for the moment the seething lewdness in his loins, he lowered himself until the flatness of his hard heavy prick lay along the length of her palpitating slit. Lifting her hips free of the water bed, she allowed her hands to slip down under her firm tight buttocks and she lowered them as her fingers clawed the lips of her cunt wide and she used her vaginal muscles to half grip the penis and she clamped her pretty thighs tight shut, imprisoning his aching prick with layers of warm flesh.
He found that any movement on his part only caused his excitement to increase as he felt the shaft of his prick move against the wetness of her slit.
He half moaned aloud as he watched her lick the fingers of one hand until they were wet. Then, prying with her whole body so they tilted dangerously for a moment while she reached underneath her round firm buttocks and her wet hand rubbed the swelling blood-filled head of Jim's pounding cock and his moan was audible across the room.
Phil had attacked Anne's Olympian form violently, seizing her by the wrists and pinning her to the undulating rhythm of the water bed and stuck his tongue deep into her hot wet mouth and felt her tongue wiggle in passionate response. He crashed with all his weight on top her, his knee wedging itself brutally between her soft firm thighs and forcing her legs apart.
Yet Anne was far from resisting even though she was in such a helpless position, her hands pinned above her head by a grip that was so hard she was sure she was going to have black and blue marks the next day. He treated her with a massive muscular disdain, treating her like some cheap whore who deserved no better treatment. Roughly, his hand caressed and massaged her breasts, his thumb and forefinger roughly, sadistically, tweaking and twisting the nipples of her huge melon-like breasts.
The moans that escaped her bruised lips were ones of pure pleasure at being so roughly treated. She winced in pain as his fingers stabbed between her legs, roughly and rudely exploring her cunt. Fingers stabbed in and out then both of his rude hands were forcing her thighs wide apart and she trembled with fear as she felt the dry massive head of his prick roughly rubbing against the wet slit of her cunt and her whole body shook more as she willingly stretched her legs apart and bent her knees so they were covering her breasts yet completely opening her cunt to any ravagement he might want to visit on it.
Donna wiggled her hips and giggled over Jim's trapped penis. The look of torture on his face was enough to make her giggle. Her hands guiding, she got him to lay over on his side, his prick still trapped while she rubbed her clitoris against his pubic hair and caused her sensuality to intensify. With a grin, she loosened his penis from her thighs and began slipping down on the undulating water bed as he rolled over on his back.
Her tongue found his neck and snaked its wet way down over his stomach while her fingers closed over the rock hard desire in his cock.
Slowly, her fingers stroked his manliness and pulled the sheath of skin back, revealing the mushroom head of his prick throbbing and pounding in her hand. Now she laid her head upon his stomach, her hair spraying out, and stared at the strange prick in her hand. One glance across the bed told her that Phil was already beginning to fuck Anne and that Jim, with a look of dreamy lewdness, was watching his wife get fucked while Donna let her tongue lick his loins all around his ramrod cock.
Teasingly, looking up at him through her eyelashes so she could watch the result on his face, she let the tip of her tongue flick over the very head of his cock and lick off the drop of cum that had secreted from the gland. Her lips smacked over the taste and her tongue flicked out like that of a snake, striking the head of his prick with its very wet tip.
Jim tensed as if a current of twenty-thousand volts was racing through his body. His eyes were closed and his teeth gritted. He felt a moan of pleasure go through every nerve in his body as he felt her hot wet mouth close over the head of his cock-and suck. It felt so good he thrust his hips forward lewdly, so that she could take more of his throbbing member in her mouth.
Anne couldn't keep from moaning to herself as she felt the dry brutally big and massive head of Phil's prick beginning to lean its weight against her vulnerable cunt. Phil, leaning all his weight on one elbow and reaching between her legs and roughly spreading the slit of her vagina so that his member slid up and down and became lubricated, then began pressing, spreading the walls of her cunt, stretching them further than they ever had been before.
He is so big! flashed through her mind, he might hurt me!
Nevertheless, it seemed so exciting to be lying on the water bed and stealing glimpses of another woman sucking her husband's prick while he threw his head back and moaned in obvious enjoyment.
Donna's head began a slow rhythm up and down, her head bobbing slowly at first then increasing in tempo as her lips sucked around the shaft of his prick, sealing out any air save that which she breathed through her nostrils as she took more and more of the length of his member into her mouth.
The head of Jim's prick was beginning to bang against the back of her throat. Still, he didn't give a damn as he felt his hips beginning to pump lewdly in time with the bobbing of her head.
Phil's hand was slowly spreading Anne's vagina wider than ever before and she winced, determined to relax. If Donna could take it, so could she. She sprawled on her back and saw Donna sucking Jim's prick and felt a pang of jealousy that was quickly gone and replaced with a feeling of how lewd and lovely they looked and how she would look when she eventually did that to Phil.
She was sure she was going to suck Phil's prick sometime during the night. Sometime in the night, she was going to do everything; including cum; and she was going to do as much as possible of that!
Anne thrilled as she felt Phil's mushroom cockhead splitting her so wide; and her husband was there, getting his prick sucked while he watched another man's cock penetrate her cunt. She used her vaginal muscles and feminine guile to wrap her pussy tight around Phil's thundering head then let the muscles twitch and throb and she watched his face to see what effect the action would have.
Phil gritted his teeth and his eyes narrowed. In a few minutes he was going to be fucking this little bitch to within precious inches of her life and have her moaning for more.
Jim let his head loll back and he watched his wife and her teasing twitching of Phil Blocker's cock and felt the full wet impact of Donna's mouth as she took all, every inch, of his prick in her mouth and sucked and he thanked God for the orgasm he had had earlier on the beach. If it wasn't for that, he would be cumming in her mouth now. In fact, the idea of cumming in some woman's mouth while his wife watched, excited him so that he moaned and thrust his hips forward.
Anne was dying to be fucked, to have his huge member hurting her, plunging in and out of her ravaged cunt-yet she wanted him hotter, wanted him writhing, like Jim was, wanted him fighting to get a chance to fuck her. Using all her strength, she put her hands against his hairy muscular chest and pulled away, closing her legs and wiggling down as she did so. Phil fought to keep his ramrod cock caressing the slit of her cunt but when he saw her direction and felt her hot wet tongue on his chest, he relaxed and began rolling over on his back, his eyes half closed. Now her husband was going to see her give Phil a blow job. He was going to see it and not care!
Phil lay back, his eyes half closed as he watched Donna increasing her rhythmic sucking of Jim Coleman's prick and he felt Anne's tongue hurrying down across his hairy stomach toward his huge throbbing prick. Her hands encircled it and squeezed it, finding it incredibly thick and hard and hot! Anne opened her eyes to see the huge mushroom head of his cock right before her face and to feel his strong fingers tangling themselves in her hair and pushing her face toward that ramrod cock. This was no passive lover who was willing to wait!
She opened her mouth and tasted the cock and found she liked it and let her lips be tight, like rubberbands, around the thick shaft. It was more than a mouthful and she felt her own cunt cream at the thought of sucking a stranger's prick while her husband watched! She felt his hips twitch and the prick slid deeper into her mouth, almost choking her. Nevertheless she took it while her buttocks pumped the empty air in a lewd and lascivious movement.
The last shred of hesitation or inhibition had left them all. They were like animals as they writhed together on the water bed, oblivious to everything but pleasure!
The two women sucked on the cocks with all their might as they all watched this orgiastic spectacle they were indulging in.
It was Anne again, Anne, the transformed animal, full of hot writhing juices, her body covered with sweat who broke away from Phil's grip and threw herself on her back where she rocked with the warm water below and felt Phil climb on top of her and his weight crush her even further down into the molding water bed.
Donna slowly let Jim's prick ooze out of her mouth before she reached up and pushed him back so that he was relaxed on his back as she started squirming up on her knees, feeling between her legs for his wet slippery cock.
She knelt on either side of his waist and leaned forward so that her lovely full breasts would be in his face and her fingers guided his prick to the waiting but frayed lips of her vagina. She plunged his cock home into her hidden recesses as she squatted down on him and wiggled her ass around.
With a moan of delight, Jim put his hands around her slim waist and guided her hips in an up and down movement while he watched his wife being subjected to a fierce and savage fucking from Phil with a look of sheer ecstasy on her face.
Phil had her on her back with her knees so bent and drawn up they were crushing her breasts and completely exposing her cunt and asshole for his ravishment. Phil's big lubricated prick was moving in and out of her cunt like a massive battering ram that was growing stronger and wilder with each savage thrust.
Donna was acting as if her hips and thighs were on ball bearings as she gyrated and rotated and sank to the hilt on Jim's prick as he held onto her waist for dear life. Her breasts trembled in front of his face, jiggling firmly and exciting him all the more.
Phil was gripping Anne with all his strength as he really began to fuck her until she was crying out with pain as his mushroom cockhead banged against her cervix and caused her eyes to roll so that they showed white. Incoherent obscenities and exhortations were coming from her lips in a stream.
Jim felt his cum welling up in his balls and he thought if he let Donna tantalize him like this much longer, he would cum. Yet, as she bucked and writhed like someone gone mad, he felt he couldn't... didn't... want to stop her.
He came with a roar, thrusting his hips up so that he lifted a writhing Donna high into the moonlight and pumped hot sperm into her creaming, writhing, twitching cunt.
Phil's balls slapped rhythmically against Anne's exposed buttocks and Anne closed her eyes and tried to keep the rattling moan out of her voice that was going to herald the orgasm building in her loins. Suddenly, under Phil's battering thrusts, it came suddenly. "Aaaaaaaaggggggghhhhhhha!" and her body twisted like a burning straw in a bonfire, helpless before the passion she felt in her body.
Phil threw himself on his wife Donna like a linebacker making a tackle. They fucked together with Phil falling on top of petite Donna who accepted his brutal moves with her legs wide-split. They fucked with the brazen lewdness and pride of two people who had just brought something off.
In his mind, Phil knew, that from now on, Jim and Anne Coleman were his puppets with whom he would do as he wanted.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Frank Delasandro sat in his darkened truck and fretted restlessly. An instinct told him a lot was happening in the darkened beach house right then. Somehow, he knew he was missing something he should know. Checking in the side-view mirror and glancing up ahead on the road, he saw that he was alone. The night had a full moon and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The stars glittered overhead in thick disarray and he swore under his breath, realizing that visibility was only too good. It would help him in spotting anything, it would also help in spotting him.
Checking his camera, he got out of his truck and swung the door closed with a deft ease. He stood listening for a moment. Silence. He looked at the beach house with narrowed eyes and slipped off the road into the silent soft sand and ran as quickly as he could behind a sand dune, shielding himself from the highway. He sat down on the sand and put his camera to one eye and adjusted the telephoto lens. The house was dark and quiet as his eye panned over it. He seemed so close to it he could reach out and touch its walls, its windows.
Frank sat bolt upright as he slowly transversed the bedroom window and then quickly swung back again. Something was going on in the bedroom. He could see dark figures moving and regrouping. They seemed to be in shadow. His heart pounded against his ribs as he realized that the Blockers and the Colemans were all in that house together and probably in the bedroom all together. And the lights were turned out!
Frank looked around with the cunning and aggressiveness of a ferret. Despite the blue moonlight illuminating the white sand, despite his vulnerability, he had to get closer to the Blocker beach house and see what was going on. He had to know, he had to see for himself. His mouth was dry and his frantic mind was trying to think of a reason he could give for lurking outside the dark Blocker house with a camera. He couldn't think straight and his anxiety heightened as he crept out from behind the dune and scurried toward the house. What would he say if caught? What could he say? Supposing there was nothing happening in the house and he was caught? Then he would look like some kind of nut, some kind of pervert.
But he was sure, as he ran, crouching low, that something was going on. He had seen enough on the beach and the night before. These people were wild. Amoral. Rich. Hell, they could do anything they wanted and get away with it. Hell, they did what he dreamed of doing. He was sure with an edgy conviction born of desperation and horniness, that something was going on. He was more than willing to risk everything in return for seeing something, seeing them do something. What? What were they up to?
He flopped and crawled in the sand on his belly under the house and lay with his heart thumping against the sand and fought to catch his breath. Under the house, he couldn't be seen. He would rest for a moment, catch his breath, calm his screaming nerves then crawl out and see what was happening inside the bedroom. He checked his camera around his neck and saw that it was loaded and free of sand. Slowly, he crawled out from under the house and peered around. Except for the steady rhythm of waves breaking on the shore, it was quiet. The road was empty of any traffic.
He got to his feet and looked around once more. All was quiet. He turned to the window and discovered that it was higher off the sand than he thought. He had to stand on his tiptoes to see in. What he glimpsed almost made him scream aloud.
He sat down in the sand and rubbed his face. It was too much to believe. His heart pounding with a renewed excitement, his cock beginning to swell rock-hard in his pants, he stood up, silently cursing his lack of height, and looked in the window again.
The sight he saw was an orgy of naked writhing bodies. Even in his wildest fantasies, even when he lay awake at night, conjuring up sexual episodes, never, ever, had he thought of what the four of them were doing on the water bed that made their bodies rise and fall like on a boat in a deep swell. Beads of perspiration stood out on his forehead as he watched them moving into place. Donna Blocker was giving instructions, her compact body naked, her breasts jiggling and quivering as she moved.
Donna was lying on her back, her legs spread wide, her knees slightly bent. She, like Anne, was lying with her feet facing the window. Donna was cupping her fleshy breasts in her hands, her taut nipples captured between her fingers. Frank could see the moist slit of her cunt in her black pubic hair in the moonlight. A wanton smile played on her lips as the two men knelt on either side of her and licked and sucked at her nipples. Frank watched as she rose then almost sank out of sight on the undulating water bed. Each time she rose on a swell, her loins would grind and writhe, making her cunt twist and move in an obscene way. She was hot, no doubt about it.
The Coleman woman, Anne, lay next to her with her big body sprawled, her massive and well-shaped legs spread wide, her hand playing with her cunt, spreading wide the lips with the tips of her fingers, showing the scarlet glistening walls of her cunt. Her big breasts lolled and rolled with the swaying surges of the water bed.
The two men were naked and their cocks waved erect and hard, like prehistoric animals blindly finding their way. As Frank watched, Donna let her hands trail away from her firm jutting breasts as the men sucked and bit, and she let her fingers tangle in the hair of their heads as she closed her eyes and wantonly thrust her rib cage up so that they could take more of her breasts in their mouths. Then she said something to the men and they pulled back and away, both of them looking at Anne.
Frank's fingers trembled as he put them on the window ledge and pulled himself higher. He hoped-prayed-with all his might that they wouldn't look at the window and see him. He pulled himself higher with all his strength and held on as he watched. They were all looking at Anne now and she lay naked, obscene, her hand idly spreading her cunt lips. What a sluttish sight she was! Frank licked his lips, feeling his mouth bone-dry. His prick jutted in his pants and throbbed so that it almost hurt. Never in his whole life had he ever had such a roaring, horny, come-and-get-it hard-on.
As he watched, Donna rolled over on her stomach and got to her hands and knees and crawled between Anne's legs. Anne, with an obscene smirk, seemed to know what she was going to do and spread her legs wider and let her stomach roll and writhe like a belly dancer's. Donna knelt between her legs, smiling down at her, her breasts pendulous and swaying, her stomach and waist thin, her buttocks round and completely exposed to Frank's gaze. As he watched with open mouth, Donna lay down on top of Anne, their breasts crushing and bulging against one another, and put her hotly open mouth on Anne's and ran her tongue in and out! Frank almost lost his grip and fell. But he couldn't allow that, he had to see what was happening! He watched, his eyes bugging, his mouth open, his breath coming in gasps and the muscles in his arms trembling with the effort and his fingers turning white on the window ledge as Donna began pumping her hips as if she were a man, as if she were fucking Anne. The two women, not five feet away, began writhing and pumping, rising and falling on the water bed, grinding their crotches together in an obscene and abandoned way. As he watched, Donna slowly spread her legs wide.
The veins stood out on Frank's forehead as he watched the two women. Their feet were facing him and, as he watched, he saw Donna's legs and thighs on top of Anne's. He saw Anne's cunt split wide open by Donna's weight and saw Donna's cunt opening, swelling with desire. His breath came light and fast as he saw Donna writhe and grind her round white buttocks down on Anne's cunt! It was so lewd, so depraved, so perverted! The two women seemed possessed as they moved with the tempo and rhythm of the water bed. He watched as Anne's whole buttocks and crotch were forced upward by the motion of the water beneath her and, at the same time, Donna's round, taut buttocks were sent jutting upward as she rotated and ground her hips down. The two women were grinding their clits into each other's pubic hair, exciting each other and enflaming already wild passions.
Frank was so excited he pressed his groin up against the side of the house as he panted. That Blocker woman was some kind of crazy pervert the way she was acting with her ass split wide so that he could see her asshole all brown and puckered and her cunt with her swollen vaginal lips as she moved and ground and pumped like a nymphomaniac gone wild. And Coleman's wife, the big blonde, didn't seem to mind. In fact, she threw her arms around Blocker's wife and ran her tongue into Donna's mouth while she jutted her hips up with all her might.
The two women presented a spectacle of unbridled lust and passion as they writhed and lolled on the water bed and spread their legs as wide apart as possible. Their widely spread, gaping, glistening, red cunts were rubbing close together, their tiny clits erect, rolling around like two ball-bearings rubbing against one another. Their breasts were crushed together except when Donna would pull away, resting her weight on her arms while her back arched; yet her groin still pressed down and she let the nipples of her breasts skim over Anne's big proud boobs.
Anne, her mouth open, her eyes half closed and misted over, would reach with her hands and caress the breasts, pinching and massaging the nipples. She would keep this up until Donna, her face twisting with passion and lust, would fall on Anne with a fury, their open mouths locked together while Donna's cunt rubbed against Anne's.
It was too much for the two men in the room to bear. They practically fought with one another, Phil winning, to get in position to fuck both women. Phil crouched between both women's wide-spread legs and guided his cock home into Anne's cunt below his wife's. Like a thick tree-stump, it sunk home and began sawing in and out, glistening with her excitement. He was arched behind his wife, his hands gripping her buttocks as he fucked Anne Coleman below her. His cock sawed in and out, gradually, brutally, sawing faster and faster. Donna kept grinding down on Anne's cunt.
Frank watched Jim Coleman who, in turn, was watching what was happening with his wife. Jim's hand stroked his cock back and forth. He had to have some of the action. He started toward Phil when his wife's hand shot out. She had rolled her head as she moaned with delight and saw her husband horny and about to push Phil off. Jim looked down at her then crawled upward on the surging water bed until his hips were directly parallel with her head, with her face, with her open mouth. Donna, on top of her, looked down and saw what she was going to do. She joined in, reaching and wrapping her petite fingers around his cock that was as erect and hard as metal. Jim jutted his hips forward and the two women fought, their mouths open and wet, their tongues sliding out, their expressions lewd and wanton. They fought gently, they fought with their mouths and their tongues; they fought to lick and suck his cock. They took turns: Anne licking the bulging shaft of her husband's prick while Donna Blocker wrapped her lips around the pulsating mushroom head of his cock and sucked with her eyes closed.
It was all too much for Frank. Watching the writhing mass with one woman on top of another and one man fucking while the two women sucked the other man's penis. A moan of outraged desire was building in his throat while he thought that the head of his cock was swelling to the point where it would split the skin and explode. He hung at the window in a sexual agony, his arms trembling. Biting his tongue and trembling as he felt his cum building, swirling in his balls, he let go of the window and, luckily, fell back silently into the sand.
He was on his feet instantly, his lips twisted in a silent Italian fury. His fists clenched, he went sprinting off across the sand, plumes of sand jetting up behind him, towards his truck. All caution was thrown to the wind; he ran as if he were in the Olympics, his head thrown back, legs pumping. He ran recklessly, falling, turning a somersault once, charging right over a dune and falling, in a cascade of fine sand, down the other side and skidding onto the road and, with feet pounding, running down the road to his truck. He took a stepladder from the rear of the truck and, slinging it over one shoulder, his teeth gritted, bared, his eyes narrowed, he ran back through the loose sand toward the house.
To hell with it, he thought. I don't give a damn who sees me!
He ran with a wild look in his eye as he thought he really didn't care if anyone saw him or not. He was horny, hornier than he had ever been before in his whole life and with it, with the ecstatic pain and frustration and vivid excitement and lewd enticement, with all the pounding thrills, there came a wild elation and freedom. He practically wanted to yell, to make a noise of exultation and lustful joy. He really didn't care if anyone saw him or not! In fact, if someone did, if someone drove by, if the beach patrol drove by and caught him on the ladder, looking in the window, he wasn't at all sure he would mind. He felt like he was continually balanced on the edge of the mightiest orgasm of his life. He teetered on the rim of a canyon and the canyon was filled with his hot cum.
He ran to the window and went about setting the ladder up while he heaved for his breath; glancing up at the window as he did so. The legs sunk in the sand so that the ladder was secure, he leaned against it and caught and held his breath. He closed his eyes and felt his heart thudding against his ribs and felt his cock painfully hard and pressed against his flat strong Italian stomach. He fought to control himself or he would be diving through that bedroom window and falling among the hotly wet bodies on that swaying and surging water bed. With his legs and arms trembling, he climbed up two steps of the ladder and straightened to see what was going on in the room.
Phil Blocker, his body thick and muscular, had shifted to kneel behind and against his wife's buttocks. His big cock was spreading her cunt wide as he fucked her from behind, his hands gripping her hips, his balls slapping against Anne's cunt that was imprisoned below, ready and waiting for him to plow into it and ravage her. Jim Coleman was kneeling by the girl's heads with his legs spread wide. Both of his big masculine hands were holding Donna Blocker's head in place, tilting her gaping mouth and head upwards so that he could slide his bulging cock into her mouth. As Frank watched, gripping the stepladder with all his might, the two men crouched facing one another, grinning lewdly as they fucked Donna Blocker from both ends at the same time. He watched her being fucked in the mouth while her husband sawed in and out of her cunt.
Her body bucked and arched and writhed to the brutal rhythm of the fucking. Jim Coleman really fucked her in the mouth, his cock slamming in while his wife, directly below, watched. Her arms encircled Donna's bucking and undulating back and her hands trailed down over her tight round buttocks while her fingers skimmed, searching for and finding Donna's unprotected and puckered anus.
Frank had to grip his cock under his pants to relieve the agony of desire and frustration as he watched Mrs. Blocker really getting worked over from all sides. Jesus, she loved it! He could tell by the blissful way her eyes were closed, by the way she tossed her constrained head and the way her sweating body twisted and writhed as she was battered back and forth and her crushed breasts, covered with sweat, slid in and out of Anne Coleman's breasts as Phil Blocker grinned and fucked with all his might from behind. Frank watched and imagined Mrs. Blocker putting her mouth over his cock, tightening her lips around the shaft while he fucked her the way she was now with Coleman. Jesus, she loved it. Jesus, she was going to suck that cock right off!
Her body jiggled and shook as the men fucked her wildly and Frank could see her body tensing, arching, like a matchstick in flame, until she began to shudder all over and cum again and again in great jerks as her cum juice held her pinned in time and place. The two men, sensing they had her on the borders of madness and ecstasy, redoubled their efforts, their thick cocks flying in and out of her mouth and cunt faster and harder. Donna was pinned in place, caught between the strength and lust of the two men and forced to continue her orgasm until she made a muffled moan that rattled in her throat that even Frank could hear through the pane of glass.
As Frank crouched on the ladder outside, peering in, focusing his camera, opening the shutter wide and holding it steady for an exposure, Donna collapsed and Jim Coleman pulled his wild prick from her suddenly lax mouth and let her head loll as her body turned to putty and she sank on top of Anne with a dreamily wild smile on her lips. Phil, sensing the laxness in her hips, withdrew his throbbing cock and, readjusting his knees, he plunged it into the gaping, creamy cunt of Jim's wife. Frank brought the lewd scene into sharp focus through the lens and saw Jim Coleman lean his weight forward on his arms and slide his knees down on the water bed so that his glistening mushroomed penis hovered right over his wife's lips. Anne tilted back her head, exposing her long white throat and opened her mouth, one free hand guiding Jim's cock in as she sucked on it and felt Phil's big prick, like a battering ram, spreading her cunt so far that it hurt. But it hurt deliciously and now she was going to get it, get the treatment they had given Donna.
Donna, feeling Anne's body beneath her, feeling it writhing and responding with lewd undulations to the men fucking her, felt desire licking like flames at her ravaged loins. She pumped back with her hips and let her hands trail down over the hips of Anne. They were tensed and sweaty and writhing with desire. Donna felt Phil's body pounding against her buttocks and watched as Jim sawed his stumplike prick in and out of her mouth. She saw his cock drive further and further into Anne's mouth as deep as her throat and saw her cheeks bulge with the effort of each thrust and saw them hollow out as he withdrew and she sucked him back in while her pulpy lips held him tight.
Donna reached with her hands and her fingers wedged themselves between Anne's working rolling buttocks and the water bed. She felt and gripped the cheeks of her buttocks in her hands and thrilled at their strength as she worked them, used them to move her cunt as Phil fucked her. Donna felt her fingers slipping into the deep dark crevice between her fat buttocks and her own desire came back strong as she felt the tips of her fingers graze over Anne's puckered-tight asshole.
Donna thrilled. She wanted Anne to feel what she had felt, she wanted her to cum until she fell back, weak and spent. She wanted to help Anne to her climax then lick her body, lick her all over while the men watched and Anne grew aroused. She wanted to curl her tongue into Anne's throbbing cunt and feel her grow aroused again. She wanted to do that, make love to Anne and arouse her to lewd acts of her own while the men watched. A thrill, an unholy wild thrill ran through Donna as she pushed with one finger and felt the rubbery entrance to Anne's rectum give a little. A dark thrill seemed to rack both women as they visibly shuddered and Anne made an effort to stretch her legs even wider apart. She succeeded by some superhuman effort, allowing Donna free passage. With a lustful grin twisting her lips, Donna looked down at Anne's head tilted back and at Jim's prick buried in her mouth and her finger pushed hard and plopped into Anne's anus with the anal ring tightening around the first joint.
Anne gave a muffled moan and her eyes showed white as pain shot from her anus as Donna's finger plunged and probed around. Pain stabbed through her body with the speed of light and mingled with the pleasure and became a passion that was building to a point where it would consume her. She was being used, abused, and degraded. She was being degraded by her own husband in front of others! Her husband was watching while another man and woman defiled her! And it was thrilling. A rhythmic, lewd, relaxation came over her. Her tawny body became catlike as she writhed and bucked and twisted and let them do what they wished with her.
Outside, Frank was shooting, getting all he could. He almost fell off the ladder as Anne started to cum, her body twitching in fine spasms then jerking back and forth as her orgasm built and swept through her and the men threw back their heads and fucked with an insane abandon. Both of them felt they were too hot and horny to ever cum yet they had to try and they banged and slammed her over the water bed while Donna rode on top of her writhing tortured body and sawed her finger in and out of Anne's asshole.
It seemed as though they were going to fuck the life out of Anne as she collapsed, her arms twitching helpless and limp at her sides as first Jim then Phil came with bellowing roars. They came, pumping white hot sperm into her mouth and cunt as she lay helpless under them and Donna ran her finger in and out of her anus. They pumped with all their might until they slumped and fell away from her ravaged and battered body, then sunk back exhausted.
CHAPTER NINE
While Frank perched, twisted on the ladder while he shot film like some compact tense bird of prey, the men slumped back with deep sighs and groans of contentment. Annie made a rattling sound in her throat that sounded like the purr of a cat, and let her body relax, feeling weak and dreamy from her mighty orgasm. All of them were satisfied.
All, that is, except Donna. She was aroused once again. The sight and feel of Anne degrading herself was too much for her to bear. She had watched while Jim twitched and pumped hot sticky cum into his wife's mouth. She had seen Anne's cheeks puff and saw her swallowing, saw her swallow the white hot sperm and fight for her breath while her cunt grew wet and hot, filled with Phil's cum.
Yet they weren't spent. A non-verbal kind of communication made each one of them open his eyes a slit and watch Donna who was alive with passion and moving about restlessly. None of them moved as they watched her. It seemed that even Frank, outside, was caught up in the lust that seemed to permeate the air as heavily as any perfume or musk might. It could almost be tasted and felt, so powerful was the feeling. Anyone who has ever been in an orgy knows the feeling: that wild abandonment, that feeling of letting it all hang out, that wild, giddy, sense of being irresponsible and doing everything. No matter how tired the body and mind, lust seems to take over like a magnet would over iron filings and the participants of an orgy find themselves doing things as if they were sleepwalkers. Later, they might feel ashamed or guilty or filled with remorse. Later, they would feel their bodies aching and their genitals sore and battered. Now, there existed only the lewd moment, the obscene gesture, the vile thrill, the animalistic joy that both women felt in being humiliated and degraded, the feral power the men felt in subjecting the women to their vilest wishes. Nothing was forbidden, everything was allowed!
Jim and Phil lay on the water bed, rising and falling with the gentle swell of the water beneath them, feeling it growing gentle and gradual as they lay breathing deeply and watching Donna. Her hair was wet and hanging in her eyes, giving her a wild gypsy look as she rolled over on her stomach and curled her legs, her buttocks fanning out behind her. She was looking at Anne.
Anne lay spread-eagled on her back, her arms above her head, her legs spread wide apart. She was magnificent to look at, naked and wanton with her big breasts lolling, her stomach flat and her Mound of Venus jutting up under her blonde pubic hair and her cunt glistening a long slit in the middle of her matted pubic hair.
Jim and Phil, watched while Anne watched Donna coil and crawl between Anne's legs, crawl up between her swooping thighs and let her tongue lick along the inside of one thigh.
Out on the ladder, Frank felt he would have to masturbate or pass out. Yet, something made him click off pictures again as Donna's cute, dark head turned to the other thigh and licked along the inside of it. She was on her elbows now, licking first up one thigh then the other, her head bobbing back and forth in a rhythmic motion. Anne groaned aloud as she looked down between her breasts and over her long flat stomach and saw Donna poised above her cunt.
The two men watched, feeling themselves being aroused again. Phil grinned a tight, hard, wolf-like grin. It was all going better than even he had anticipated. After this night was over, he had so much on the Coleman's that they would never be able to look him in the face again. Or say no to anything he wanted. And Donna, his wife, well ... he had always had a hunch about her. With him guiding her, she would do anything he desired. Phil felt his cock growing hard and erect with the power he had over Donna and the Colemans. He looked at Jim who was lying with his cock swelling in his hand, his face twisted with desire as he watched Donna Blocker go down on his wife with an open mouth. He looked at his wife as she threw her head back, mouth open, and moaned with delight as Donna let her hot, wet, little tongue dart in and out of her cunt. Jim watched as he saw his wife's big shapely hips pump lewdly and slow as she smiled and moaned her delight.
Both women seemed to take an orgiastic and exhibitionist delight in performing for the men. It was one thing to have the men inflict humiliation on them, quite another to degrade each other voluntarily. They bent to their lewd tasks with a feverish glee, lewd and wanton, writhing, licking, sucking. Anne spread her legs wide, bending her knees and allowed Donna to lick and suck at her cunt. Donna, her hands clutching Anne's buttocks, squirmed to her knees and scurried around to where Annie could reach her buttocks with her now grasping hands. She twisted around without ever taking her mouth away from Anne's hot swelling cunt. She felt Anne's hands on her legs, her thighs, her buttocks. She felt Anne caressing her, running her fingers up and down the length of her cunt, probing with her fingers into the hot, wet, pulpy interior of the cunt itself.
Frank watched outside with his mouth hanging open as he saw the Coleman woman urge the Blocker woman, pulling on her legs until the Blocker woman, small, intense, compact, swung one leg over and straddled the Coleman woman's head. The Coleman woman smiled up at Donna's cunt above her head and reached up, her arms encircling Donna's buttocks and pulled her cunt down onto her open, waiting mouth. Frank watched as Donna spread her petite body the length of Anne's, lying on top of her with her tight billowing buttocks pumping over Anne's face.
He saw Donna reach with her head, burying it between Anne's big thighs and saw her wet scarlet tongue lick at the deep cleft between her buttocks. The two women lay stretched out on the water bed, slowly rising and falling with the motion of the water, their hips pumping slowly and obscenely as their soft mouths sucked and their tongues darted and probed.
Their passion was now out of hand. Donna's hands hooked on the inside of Anne's thighs and pulled them further apart while her neck arched and her tongue flailed away at Anne's open, moist pussy. Anne's hands cupped Donna's buttocks and pulled them apart, exposing her asshole.
Phil Blocker was aroused again. His lips curled in a savage half-snarl, half-smile. He lunged at his wife and pulled her off Anne Coleman like she was a rag doll. Donna landed on her stomach on the water bed then rebounded up. "On your knees!" Phil commanded in a growl that Frank could hear outside. Donna obeyed instantly, on her knees with her arms out for support, her breasts jiggling and trembling.
Jim Coleman crawled across the big undulating bed and flopped on top of his wife with all his weight, causing her to blink and catch her breath. His thick throbbing cock found its way into her willing pussy and he began fucking her at once. They held one another and he felt her hips thrusting and pumping back up at him as he sawed in and out. They fucked with obvious delight only they weren't looking at one another, they were watching the Blockers and what Phil was doing to his wife in front of them.
Donna straddled him on the bed, her legs as wide as she could allow. Phil was running his fingers up and down the length of her exposed cunt, covering his fingers with their moistness and then rubbing that moistness into the deep tight crevice between her buttocks. Jim thought he understood what he was going to do and his cock gave a jerk in his wife's cunt. God, it was an exciting idea! This man, this Blocker, would stop at nothing!
Anne caught on at almost the same moment as she saw Donna crouched dutifully, like a dog, with her buttocks exposed and slightly arched, waiting, still, waiting for her husband to make the first move. Anne hissed in a breath and her fingernails dug into her husband's shoulders as she watched and imagined what was going to happen. He was going to do it, she thought, he was going to do it to his own wife! He was going to do it right in front of them! If he could do such a thing to his wife, he could do it to her!
The obscene thought exploded in her mind and raced, like molten lava, through her body. Her lovely legs wrapped themselves around Jim's waist and she locked her ankles on his back and fucked with all her might, never taking her eyes from the Blockers.
God, Anne thought, how I'd like to have him do that to me! Jim, Phil, anybody, how I'd like to have that done to me! She fucked her husband with her mouth open, her eyes glazed, as she watched Phil Blocker kneel behind his wife with his cock waving in the air like some prehistoric war club and his hands, his thumbs, brutally spreading her soft cushiony buttocks and exposing her tight anus! Anne fucked with all her might, not caring if she came or not. She thought that she wanted that done to her, that it was the final humiliation, the ultimate degradation, the apex of thrills! It would be like being a whore, a slut, for once in her life.
Both Jim and Anne were watching as Phil put the head of his prick on her anus and let go of her buttocks so that their softness closed around the glistening head and Donna murmured something and let her head sink down on the bed, her face turned toward them. A lascivious smile played on her lips and her eyes were unfocussed and turned inward. It was obvious she was going to enjoy this with that special kind of masochism that some women are subject to. She was going to enjoy her humiliation, hedonistically. She was enjoying the idea and loving the fact that someone was watching, someone was seeing her and her depravity.
Phil Blocker was grinning triumphantly as his hard masculine hands gripped his wife's hips and he positioned himself behind her, the head of his cock almost invisible, buried in the soft flesh between her buttocks. His hips gave a little twitch and Donna's eyes grew big and her mouth flew open. "Oh!"
Outside, Frank took his cock out of his pants. He simply didn't care if anyone came along and saw him. This was too much. They were crazy, inside that house, they were insane! They'd do anything, anything at all! The fact that they would do anything at all only excited him all the more. In fact, the fact that they would do anything at all gave him an idea for a wild scheme. Did he have the guts to carry it out? The answer was a wild yes! As he pulled on his cock and felt his own cum swirling and building like never before, he watched what was happening on the water bed.
Donna's expression had changed from one of bliss to fear, then horror. Phil was holding her in place with his strong grip and lunging with his pelvis at the same time. His blunt mushroom head spread her anus until she thought it was going to tear and split. "Phil!" she gasped.
The Colemans held each other tightly and fucked each other with savage thrusts, their teeth gritted, their smiles savage as they saw Donna's plight and helplessness. "Phil, for God's sake!"
Phil responded by bearing down even more.
"Phil, my God! It hurts! No, please!"
Jim, writhing on top of his wife, felt a thrill pass through him as he saw the imploring look on Donna Blocker's face and he felt a shudder pass through his wife's body. It wasn't a shudder of fear or dread so much as a dirty lustful shudder of obscene excitement. Jim had the feeling that, if it weren't that he had her pinned, if it weren't that he was fucking her at that moment, Anne would be there helping Phil fuck Donna in the ass.
"Phil! God, please, oh please stop! It hurts! Oh God, it hurts! Please, Phillllllll!"
Donna's face was contorted by pain and she fought for her breath and squeezed her eyes shut and screamed a silent scream as the huge mushroom head of her husband's cock plunged into her rectum with a soft wet plopping sound. The nether ring of her anus snapped shut around the shaft of his prick, making him as much a prisoner as intruder.
"Phil! Aaaaaaaggghhhhhhaaa!"
Donna's scream pierced through the night and would have been heard by anyone walking on the beach or the road. Frank slumped on the ladder, his iron-hard cock in his hand, his eyes half open and focussed. He was near cumming, near having a wet orgasm all over the ladder and the sand. The sight he was watching was too obscene, too pagan and animal and lascivious to deny.
Donna writhed in agony, pinned down, her face contorted beyond belief, her voice hoarse and low as she pleaded like a person bereft of sense. She was so desperate, she would do anything to stop the searing pain that caused her body to jerk and twitch with every movement of Phil and his cock that bulged obscenely between her split buttocks. "Phil, I can't do it, honest, I can't! Phil, please, I beg you!"
Phil's face grimaced with pain once his thick head shot into his wife's anus. It was almost too tight and too dry even for him. It hurt to move it and he thought of pulling it out. He hadn't even planned to do such a thing until he saw his wife and Anne Coleman eating each other and the sight had driven him to action. Now he looked down and to one side to where Coleman was fucking his wife. Jesus, he thought, that Coleman bitch is some fuck!
He took in her body under her husband, the delicate bulge and half-moon of her melon shaped breasts that were thrust and crushed against her husband's chest. Her thin waist and naked flaring hip and long legs wrapped around her husband's waist. He thrilled to the obscene way her hips pumped in and out, taking all of her husband's cock while looking at him with that expression on her face.
It was a look of sheer lasciviousness, complete animal depravity! She didn't look the same girl. Her expression was now one of brazen depravity and her eyes veiled as she looked at his cock splitting his wife's buttocks apart.
He moved the cock, shoving it in a little further, looking down to see the skin roll tight and shining in with it, her anal ring disappearing and hearing her scream in pain beneath him and her body tense and, above all, seeing the expression on Anne Coleman's face as she stared at his prick. Her mouth was open and her eyelids fluttered like they did when she was having an orgasm and a low moan of pure liquid animal delight came from her mouth.
Phil grinned down at them and saw the expression of lust and envy on Jim Coleman's face. He held his wife by the hips, his nails digging in, and withdrew slightly as she cowered and whimpered under him. The rectal skin stuck to the shaft of his cock, clinging as if it didn't want him to leave as it folded out. He pulled out all the way until the rubbery anal ring was about to slip over the club-like head then he slowly started thrusting in again.
Donna, her head to one side, her body dripping sweat, her breasts resting on the water bed and jiggling every time Phil thrust, begged for help, her eyes imploring the Colemans while her voice rasped to her husband.
"God! Jesus Christ! You're killing me! Stop! I'll do anything, anything you want, please!"
Phil Blocker gritted his teeth in wild pleasure. It did something to see his wife this way, to force her to bed, to force her with all her pride and wisecracks, to force her to grovel and beg in front of others. "Anything?" he asked, his voice hoarse, his eyes on the Colemans who were caressing one another and fucking slowly and obscenely as they both had their eyes on his prick and Donna's buttocks.
"Anything, anything you want. Please, I'll do anything!"
Wild ideas swept through his mind. He could have her making obscene promises in no time, he could have her obligated to all kinds of orgies.
He could make her beg. But, nothing he could do to her or have her to do to him and others could compare with the one thing she wanted to avoid, the one thing she was begging him not to do, the one thing she was truly afraid of, the one thing that made her lose her cool and beg for mercy. Nothing could be so crushing and humiliating as begging for mercy and being denied it.
Phil thrust home with a wild and savage laugh.
"AaaaaaGGGGGHHHH AAAaaaaa!"
The cry tore from her throat and she writhed in pain as Phil began a savage and brutal fucking with each thrust hurting him at first but growing easier with each massive plunge as the lubrication on the shaft of his cock slipped into her rectum and eased the way.
Jim and Anne clung to each other and watched, not even pretending to hide their lust. Jim's hands roughly kneaded his wife's breasts, brutally pinching the nipples into taut life while her hands swooped all over his body and cupped his tight hard buttocks as they watched.
Donna bucked, writhed and trembled under each blow, her voice hoarse and incoherent, her face a mask of pain as sweat poured over her body in tiny snaking rivulets. Dimly, she could see the Colemans fucking and watching her. She was passing out and they were watching and obviously enjoying her pain and humiliation. It was the worst pain she had ever felt in her life and she was passing out, unable to take any more.
Her body was losing strength as her back arched, her shoulders and head flat on the water bed, her breasts grazing back and forth as Phil fucked her with a brutal rhythm. Her body bucked and undulated and she felt her strength waning as she began to pass out. Her body relaxed of its own accord, her eyes showed white as the pain stabbed and seared through her body.
And, as she relaxed from fatigue and pain, a strange thing began to happen. As she relaxed, she felt the pain stab deep in her groin and mix with something as thick as honey, as hot as a steam bath: pleasure. The pain shattered through her body and, as she relaxed, she felt shards of pure crystal clear pleasure shoot through her. She opened her eyes and made a conscious effort of the will to relax and felt a pleasure that was sweet and piercing race through her.
Jim and Anne Coleman froze, holding on to each other, both their eyes leaving the obscene sight of Phil's big cock sawing in and out of Donna's anus to look at her face as each of them-and Phil, too-heard a new tone creep into her voice. An animal sound, a half-moan, half-growl, was in her voice. Her eyes were flashing and her face twisting in a new way as she relaxed her body even more and let her husband-do what he wished.
"She likes it!" Jim muttered into his wife's ear. Anne put her hot wet mouth to his ear and her soft wet tongue snaked out as she hissed, "She's loving it!"
It was true. Donna's expression changed with each mad thrust from Phil as her muscles relaxed and she felt his cock like a huge battering ram, slipping deeper and deeper into her rectum and a wild, loose, abandoned feeling coming over her. She mewled in delight and a brazen smile of pure obscene lust came over her face. She rotated her ass and thrust it up higher, arching her back even more as Phil began fucking her with all his might.
Her body was almost entirely relaxed and she bucked and writhed under him, her breasts leaping and jiggling free only to be crushed under her again. She moaned with pure delight and felt a lasciviousness come over her that tingled and delighted every nerve in her body. She felt she was going to cum, cum in a rage and torrent like never before. She felt she would cum and keep on in that cum all night.
Outside, Frank had his hand on his cock and couldn't stop himself any longer. He pulled back his sheath and came, shooting white hot sperm out over the house, actually ejaculating against the side of the house. He moaned out loud, as he started slipping from the ladder, his strength going as he gave in to his pent-up orgasm and shot his sperm out again and again. He was about to drop to the sand, losing sight of the scene in the bedroom when he saw something different happening and he held on to the rungs and watched with disbelieving eyes.
Phil was grabbing his wife around her incredibly small waist with his brawny arms and rocking her to one side. At first, Donna resisted, wincing in pain, a look of perplexed doubt on her face. Then, with a wanton grin, she knew, intuitively, what her husband wanted. She rocked with him and the Colemans watched as the two of them teetered for a moment then fell over on the water bed with Phil's cock still firmly embedded in his wife's ass.
They rocked for a moment, clinging together and waiting out the undulation and rocking of the water bed. It somehow made the scene all the more absorbing as the two of them clung together, side by side, in such an obscene pose.
Jim grinned maliciously, unable to resist an admiring snort and shake of the head. Anne shuddered again as she saw what was going to happen to Donna. Slowly, as they watched, holding their breath, Phil pulled Donna over on top of him, his cock still embedded in her asshole.
Donna lay on top of her husband with a deep moan coming from her. Slowly, she spread her legs, letting them fall off her husband's and spreading them wide over the bed. She lolled, naked, her breasts cupped in her hands, her nipples jutting, her stomach flat and her pelvic bones jutting. Her black pubic hair was slit by the swelling lips of her cunt and, between the apple-tight cheeks of her buttocks was the stump of Phil's big cock sunk into her rectum with the anal ring tight and twitching.
Jim pulled away from his wife, a hoarse cry tearing from his throat. He had to have her. He pulled away even though Anne fought with all her strength and he lunged across the bed with all his might and fell on top of Donna Blocker's compactly petite, naked body, his prick sinking into her gaping cunt with a wet obscene sound. He sawed in and out, crushing her body beneath him and felt the hard underside of Phil's cock in her rectum, separated from his by only a thin wall of tortured flesh.
Anne coiled next to the writhing threesome and watched as both men began fucking Donna, battering and bucking her body to and fro. Donna had no control over herself and she tried her best to relax as bolts of pure obscene pleasure racked through her body. She closed her eyes and wished that they would go on fucking her all night, that such insane hotwire pleasure as she was feeling at the moment would never end.
She didn't even notice Anne crouched next to her, watching everything, watching two men fuck her at the same time, watching with a wild look on her face, her hand pawing at her hot cunt, driving herself to greater frustration and want. More than anything in the world, she wanted both men to do it to her, she wanted them to do it while Donna watched!
Outside, Frank came again, thick hot sperm welling out of his prick and all over his hand and dripping down the ladder. With a moan, he slipped down the ladder and fell onto the sand which was cool and firm. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He couldn't watch anymore. If he saw anything else, he would go mad, scream, yell, and smash the window and run into the room and attack the women, rape them, fuck them silly until they begged for him to stop. If the men got in his way, he would smash their faces in and go on fucking their wives.
No, he rubbed his eyes and slumped in the sand at the base of the ladder. No, he couldn't do something like that. But there was something he could do. Plenty. He had a plan. All he needed was the nerve to do it. He had everything else, he had all the pictures he needed. He looked up, toward the beach, toward the ocean. The sky was getting light. My God, he thought, I've been out here all night. They've been fucking all night! He looked toward the window with deep admiration.
CHAPTER TEN
To everything, there is a beginning and an end. A new day was coming and a kind of stark, gray, revealing light was sifting through the window and illuminating the bedroom and its naked occupants. Anne had crouched, watching, as the two men fucked Donna right through her long shuddering jerking cum until they both came in her cunt and anus with hoarse shouts. She had watched Jim's body tense, shudder, watched his back arch and then saw him collapse and roll off Donna.
Donna was unconscious and stayed where she was until Phil's cock deflated enough for him to shove her off with his last remaining ounce of strength and the three of them sprawled in the casual poses of complete exhaustion. Donna, Phil, and Jim all slept the deep sleep as Anne crouched over them, trembling with desire. She tried to suck Jim's cock erect but to no avail. No matter what she did, he wouldn't respond. Frantically, she turned her efforts to Phil, crouching over him and holding his big penis in the flat of her hand. She licked and sucked it. Again, nothing worked. At last, with a heavy sigh, she slumped back and looked at them.
She felt no urge to make love to Donna. That was only thrilling when the men were watching. No, she wanted to be fucked more, she wanted both men to fuck her at once. She shuddered once again, thinking about it. It was so exciting to be so dominated and humiliated. Having watched Donna, she knew it was the most exciting thing of all. Donna's orgasm seemed to have lasted for long minutes at a time. Anne clenched her teeth. More than anything, she wanted that to happen to her. She slumped next to Jim, exhausted, frustrated, wanting to sleep but unable to.
Earlier, Frank had struggled to his feet and folded the ladder then staggered through the sand, his pants still unzipped. It seemed much harder walking now than before. It was true that earlier he had something to move for and he wasn't so tired. Now, like Anne, he was tired and frustrated. He thought of going home to his wife and bed and he hoped that she was asleep so that she wouldn't start in and drive him nuts with questions about where he had been. On another level, he hoped that she were awake, that he could, in some way, find the courage to describe to her all that he had seen, that he could, in some way, show her some of the pictures he had taken of the Colemans and the Blockers, that she would become aroused, excited, that he could have his own little orgy right at home.
He put the ladder in the back of the truck and made a face. Fat chance of that happening. Fat chance of anything exciting or worthwhile happening to Frank Delasandro. It was the same old story; the rich get richer, you can look, but don't touch. No, he shook his head, women like Mrs. Blocker and that Coleman woman weren't for him.
He clenched his fists. Not up until now, they weren't. He raged inwardly. They were nothing but sluts, whores. They behaved like sluts in the bedroom and like the snottiest of snobs when they were ordering him around. He sometimes looked at them and wondered if they realized he knew what they really were ... sluts!
Frank got in the truck and sat looking at the Blocker beach house feeling tired and frustrated and angered. A thin smile creased his Italian face. This time things would be different. He had a plan, he had a plan and all it needed was for him to have the nerve. He had to develop the film he had taken and then put the plan into effect. It was all there, in his head, all clear and precise as to what he would do. He would bide his time, first of all, see how things went between the couples, then, then, he would approach Phil Blocker.
The thought filled him with dread. Blocker was no dumbbell and he was well built, much bigger than Frank. He would have to watch his step with Blocker but he was the one to approach. He obviously ran the foursome. Might as well approach him. Convinced Blocker and everything else would be easy.
He started the truck motor and drove slowly along the road, looking out to sea when he was past the dunes and seeing a streak of light on the horizon. Silently, he rehearsed what he would say if his wife was awake.
"So? Where were you?"
"Don't ask."
"Where were you?"
"Look, whatta want from me?"
"Who were you out with?"
"Stop trying to break my balls."
"Ha! I knew it!"
"Knew what? Whatta I say? I said you shouldn't break my balls. Look, don't ask me, but I'm tired. I'm tired, I want to go to sleep!"
"Ha! Listen to him, after spending the whole night in bed with some hussy."
Then, at that moment, Frank determined he would hit her, belt her a good one. Then he would go to bed. He drove home grim-faced, anticipating a barrage of questions.
Back at the beach house, Anne got up and pulled her clothes on. She roused her husband out of his torpor and urged him to get dressed. Jim looked around, sleepy-eyed, and saw Phil and Donna in the cold light of dawn. His mouth tasted of stale booze and he was exhausted and slightly hung over. He got dressed, throwing his clothes on and the two of them let themselves out of the house and staggered through the sand toward their house not looking at each other.
They went right to bed, throwing off their clothes and crawling under the sheets without a word to one another. Jim felt his penis sore and every single muscle in his body seemed to be aching. Muscles he never knew he had were crying out. He sunk into a deep exhausted sleep with the thought that he had fucked enough to last him the rest of his life.
Anne, equally as tired if not more so-she had not slept when the others had dropped off-couldn't sleep. She drew the blinds so that the room was dark and lay down, hollow-eyed, grim-mouthed, staring up at the dark ceiling while listening to the deep regular breathing of her husband. Although she felt so tired, so exhausted, felt her nerves so frayed she could scream out in frustration and exhaustion, she could not sleep. There was too much, much too much, on her mind.
Across the way, the Blockers slept on their water bed, gently rocking, the movement of the water beneath them prompted by their slight movements. They slept deep and peaceful, lulled by the rocking motion like a boat tied up to a pier. Later in the day, toward sunset, Donna would wake and lie silent, thinking about all that happened and remembering what Phil had said about guilt and how guilt was the only thing keeping her in line, that without guilt, she could do what she pleased. She grinned and stretched luxuriously, her body supple, her breasts, high and jutting. She thought about the night before and a lewd smile was at the corners of her mouth. Staring off, remembering all that they had done, her hand stole to her breast and her fingers toyed with her nipple, teasing it into a bullet-like hardness. She thought of what she had done to Anne in front of the men. She had wanted to do it and ... she had enjoyed it. She had loved it!
So I'm bisexual, she thought. So long as Phil doesn't care ... She cupped her breast in both her hands and tilted it up, bending her head at the same time and letting her wet tongue rim around the nipple and finally taking the nipple in her mouth and sucking on it. Feeling herself getting aroused again, she thought of Anne.
Anne lay awake in her bed. There comes a time in everyone's life when they are alone, all alone, left to face themselves and what they've done. So it was, this night, with Anne. She couldn't sleep; smoking cigarettes and listening to Jim breathe deeply and occasionally snore, she more than once, as the morning wore on, looked at his hulking body next to her and hated him. How could he sleep so peacefully after what happened? Didn't he realize what had happened to them, didn't he know the consequences?
And what about herself? Anne's hands trembled as she lit another cigarette. In the last twenty-four hours, she had discovered things about herself she had never even suspected before. Prior to last night, if someone had even suggested she could have behaved in the way that she did, she would have been highly insulted and never speak to that person again, feeling that they were depraved and insane.
But, no, she had done all those things. It had been her, not somebody else, it had been her and she had reveled in it. In fact, she had been the most brazen of the four, leading the way in lewd conduct. Once past a certain point she had been swept along with it, enjoying it, loving it, ending up wishing for more! Once past that point, whatever it was, there was no turning back. None whatsoever. Once past that point, that social barrier, anything went and the more excessive it was, the more she liked it.
Then, too, she realized-lying on her back, heaving a big sigh that made her breasts just under the sheet jut up-that there was still no going back. It was too late. Never again would she be satisfied or fulfilled by having sex with just Jim in the old missionary position. Worse than that, she would never be satisfied with having sex with Jim alone no matter what he did to her.
No, she knew when they all passed out and she was left awake that she would want to have another orgy. She wanted another orgy in which two men fucked her at the same time. She lay on her back, her breath coming faster and an unholy desire sweeping through her body. She wanted two men fucking her with others watching them. She wanted what Donna had and more: she wanted people watching, taking pictures, caressing her. She wanted cocks in her hands and one in her mouth. She wanted to be so dominated and humiliated that she would lose all identity and have an orgasm that would last forever.
Never had she suspected the delights to be found in sex and a group orgy. Her mind raced over the names and faces of friends they knew and she found herself feverishly wondering how she would go about seducing them, getting them to have sex with her and Jim. She thought of several husbands she knew and tried to imagine having sex with them.
Then, when she was aroused, when the nipples of her breasts had hardened and become pointed, when her vulva, her vaginal lips had become swollen and extended, showing the moist slit of her cunt, she spread her legs and her fingers slid down over her delicately curved, silken stomach, she cried out, a low moan and near-sob and put her hands to her face.
She fought back tears, biting her lip. She was mad, she was insane. She had to be some kind of depraved animal to think the way she did. How did she know Jim felt the same way? How could she know what he felt? Supposing he lost all respect for her? Supposing her conduct made him hate and suspect her? Indeed, how could she think of their friends in such a lewd way? What would he think of her if she set about seducing his friends? Indeed, how could she face the Blockers again? She thought of the brutal, almost casual way, Phil Blocker had made love to her. Love? He had fucked her and her body shuddered and was aroused again at the memory.
And, too, there was Donna. How could she look her in the face again after the obscene, perverted things they had done together? What could she say to her? Her mind conjured up images of hardened lesbians she had seen in New York's Greenwich Village, and she didn't want to end up that way. No, in fact, the idea of lesbian behavior didn't strike her as desirable even now. Yet she knew, with a tremor of excitement and self-loathing, that she would perform such acts with Donna or any attractive woman if men were present. She knew she would do it because she knew, with a lewd instinct, that the sight of two women having sex aroused men. It aroused her, too, she actually enjoyed it tremendously so long as there were men watching.
Anne thrashed and writhed on her bed, trying to be quiet and not wake Jim. She got up and walked to the window and moved the drapes aside, looking out. Bright sunlight made her wince and look away. It was late afternoon by the position of the sun and in the Blocker house across the dazzling white sand all was quiet. Standing by the drapes, she realized she had the beginnings of a ragged headache and she went to the bathroom for an aspirin. Looking at herself in the mirror, stark-naked, she realized what a magnificent body she had. It had changed, in a subtle way. Her breasts were heavier, more full of syrup and they shook in an enticing way when she moved. She had more curves than before, her body looking ripe and soft and warm. Her buttocks seemed more full with the crevice between them deeper and more mysterious. Her stomach was voluptuous and her thighs full and swooping. She was an object of desire and when she moved, she discovered she was moving in a different way. It was subtle, supple and suggestive, but she now walked with her hips thrust forward, outward, as if she were offering her hot, moist vagina to whatever hand wanted to explore it.
She drank water, washing down the aspirin and, sighing heavily, walked back to the bed and lay down, again thinking of the night before and aghast at her actions. Beforehand, before they went over to the Blockers, she never suspected that she would be the one. Phil or Donna or even Jim, but never her. Yet she was the one. Out of the four, she had been the one who hungered for more, who wanted more and more sex heaped upon her. And, even now, with all her guilt and doubt and anxiety, she wanted more. If Jim should kick her out, she would go to the Blockers, offer them her body. She knew that she could never go back, never return to what she once was, that she would have to go on from here, from now. She knew that-no matter what the cost-she would go to another orgy. She knew that she would submit herself to another orgy regardless of Jim, regardless, even, of her own sanity. No matter what happened, she was going to expose her big, ripe, desirous body for men to adore, caress, excite, humiliate, and drive to wild depravity.
Anne Coleman, naked, lying in bed, looking much the same as she had the day before, yet being very different, lit another cigarette and thought of the future while Jim snored loudly.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Phil Blocker was troubled and he could see nothing to do but call a meeting. He had to have a council of war with the Colemans. He shook his head, seeing no way around it.
He had awakened just as it was getting dark and he was ravenous. Donna had made him a big breakfast of scrambled eggs, thick slabs of bacon, home fries, toast and coffee. He had taken a good long shower and then eaten, the coffee tasting good and awakening him. Donna had been tentative around him, trying not to look him in the eye. After all, she couldn't be sure he wouldn't disapprove of the way she had behaved. He let her know that, if anything, he was hotter for her now than he was before.
Once the ice was broken, Donna was eager to talk about it, to make new plans. "What are we going to do now?"
Phil shrugged. "Dunno. What do you want to do?"
Donna gave him a sidelong lewd glance. "Silly question."
He grinned up at her as he tore into the breakfast. "I'll give Jim a call in a little while."
"It won't do any good."
"Huh? Why?"
"I saw them leave, just as it was getting dark."
Phil sat tapping his fingers. Their leaving without saying anything, without calling, could be bad. Their leaving left them unavailable. "Were they dressed?"
"No, bare-ass naked. Of course they were dressed."
Again, Phil didn't say anything. Perhaps something was wrong. One, or both of them, was upset. Guilt-ridden. The best thing to do was nothing. Play it cool. Instinctively, he felt the wrong thing to do would be to pursue them. Better leave them alone. Don't avoid them but go about living and vacationing like nothing had happened. If they met, he would be pleasant and relaxed. He wouldn't bring anything up, but let them do it.
He smiled and dug into his eggs, crunching buttered toast in his mouth. He knew one thing: Anne Coleman was hooked. There was one big beautiful nymphomaniac, there was one well-stacked broad who really liked fucking. It was in her eyes, in that lewd grin that crept across her full soft lips, in her every liquid movement. She would be back. Maybe Jim was the reluctant or jealous one. If so, he would be easy to handle.
Jim was upset. He awoke in the late afternoon and lay still in wide-eyed amazement. Had he really done all those things? Was that really him? Did he dream all that happened or had he actually seen Donna Blocker sprawled lasciviously, stark naked, on top of her husband with her legs spread wide and Phil's prick buried in her anus and her cunt gaping and inviting? Did he really throw himself on her and, closing his eyes and throwing his head back and letting it loll from side to side, fuck her with a wild, brutal, all-out abandon?
He finally got up enough nerve to look out of the corner of his eye and see his wife lying next to him. What must she be thinking? She had seen him, her husband, have sex with another woman. She had seen that he obviously enjoyed it. What must she be thinking"! A new jolt of consciousness wracked him as he admitted to himself that she was something other than what he had married and led to believe existed. Reluctantly, he admitted that she had obviously enjoyed herself too. In fact, she had almost enjoyed herself a little bit too much. There is such a thing as overdoing it. Just let her accuse him of being unfaithful or dirty-minded. People who throw rocks shouldn't live in glass houses. No sir, not her.
He had worked himself up into a fine defense rage by the time he got up. To his surprise, Anne didn't mention the night before. In fact, she seemed uneasy, nervous, and eager to avoid any mention of the night before and the Blockers. They had dressed making formal, embarrassed, small-talk. Once, he had walked into the bathroom and caught her naked. Such a sight at any other time before last night wouldn't have bothered him. Yet, now, looking at her naked loins, he felt a wave of licentiousness come over him and he thought of forbidden pleasures. Then, remembering, he had stepped back, saying, "Oh. I'm sorry."
Once fully dressed, they tried not to look at each other, at each other's eyes. Anne turned on the TV and Jim looked through their meager library, muttering he had meant to bring a novel to read.
Anne's nervousness and restless energy grew. Finally, unable to bear it any more, she said, "Jim, let's go out."
Jim looked at her. "Where?"
"Anywhere. Go shopping for some silly present we don't really need but really want. Go shopping for clothes and go out to dinner. Go out to dinner to some place we've never been before. Maybe go into the city, spend one night of our time in the city. Do outlandish things like go to a play or movie. How about a movie? We haven't been to a good double-feature in a long time."
"That's right," Jim said. Her desperate gaiety was contagious. She was offering a flip, charming out, a way out, and why not? He shrugged. "Last double-feature was a two-bagger."
"Two bagger?"
"Two bags of popcorn apiece."
Remembering the time and how innocent and sane it all seemed, they both longed for a return to such a feeling. "Oh," Anne said, smiling, "let's do go!"
They left, never once mentioning or looking at the Blocker house, each with his thoughts.
And, no matter how they felt, Phil was going to have to break his silence and call them up. The four of them had to get together and decide what they were going to do about a problem that confronted them all.
Two days, two whole sunshining days and starry nights had gone by. Two days in which the Blockers only glimpsed the Colemans coming and going. Two days in which the couples went their separate ways, two whole days in which Anne and Jim talked about everything but the Blockers. At night they retired to their bed with the bedroom drapes tightly shut. Each night they lay awake, thinking, feeling, growing excited. The nights were long and their imaginations vivid.
Two days and Phil Blocker was sometimes caught frowning, looking off, thoughtful and troubled. Donna was quick to notice, fearing he was thinking of her and disapproving. "What's the matter?"
"Huh?" He roused himself and blinked at his wife. "Oh, nothing, just thinking."
"Beginner's luck."
"Huh?" He didn't seem to be paying much attention. He hadn't since the first morning after the orgy. They had gone to bed early, having sex while Donna thrilled and made mental plans. She found their relationship enriched, much more lascivious and lewd and ... pleasurable than it had been before the orgy.
Moreover, she found it was much easier for her to cum and her cumming was prolonged and much more intense. She found she could cum many times without much effort. All she did was abandon herself to whatever Phil wanted and dream of when they would all be together again.
Yet, it had happened that morning, Phil's change in mood. He had awakened early and was cocky and lewd and funny. He had taken his coffee out to the sundeck and there had met Frank Delasandro and the two of them had talked while Donna made breakfast. She could see them from the kitchen window, walking out on the catwalk and talking seriously, their heads bent together. Since that time, he had been quiet, serious, thoughtful and ... troubled.
Finally, he had gone to his wife, stood in front of her-actually, he towered over her-and said, "I'm calling the Colemans. We've got to get together with them and talk something over."
His mood told her not to make light of him, that something serious had happened. She looked at him for a long moment before saying, "Okay."
Jim answered the phone, the jangling sound making them both jump. They looked at one another with a strange look in their eyes; like they had been expecting the call for some time. He put the receiver to his ear like it was a bomb about to go off. "Hello?"
"Jim? This is Phil."
"Oh. Yeah, how are you?"
"Okay. Listen, I'm not in the mood for nice small-talk. I've got something important to tell you."
Jim's tones were measured. "Okay, shoot."
"I need to get together with you and Anne. Me and Donna. There's something we have to talk over."
"Sure. We'll do that sometime. Let me talk it over with Anne and see when it would-"
"Bull." Phil's voice cut in. "Look, this is urgent. I have to see you now."
"Well, what is it?"
Phil's voice was testy. "Look, come on over here or we'll come over there. I've got to talk to you."
"About what?" Jim insisted.
There was a pause. Then Phil's voice came, cold, clear, and slow. "Somebody knows about us."
Jim didn't say anything for a moment then, "Come on over."
"Be right there."
The phone clicked and Jim hung up, looking at his wife.
"You invited him over?" Anne asked, eyebrows raised.
"Yes." Jim stared back at her with a level gaze.
"Oh. I don't know that I'm ... that we ... that, well-"
"Somebody knows about us."
They were a sober and serious group that met, a complete contrast to the last time. Phil sat, all business, waving away the suggestion of a drink. He slapped his hands together. "Okay. Here's the story. Incidentally, Donna doesn't know much more than you do."
"Which isn't very much."
"Right," Phil agreed. "You'll see why in a minute. Now, getting to the point. Somebody knows about us. Somebody has seen us."
"In action?" Anne wanted to know. Somehow, her remark was funny and they all smiled.
Phil looked at her and nodded. "In action. All of it, everything. Also, he's seen us-me and Donna-in action and also you two. Seems you've been balling on the beach."
"Who?" Jim asked, his hand shaking slightly, fearing the worst, fearing it may be the authorities.
"Frank Delasandro."
"The dirty little snoop!" Donna spat out.
"That little rat!" Anne said, her eyes flashing.
Jim felt like swaggering. "I think I can take care of him."
Phil nodded. "Wait until you hear the whole story. He came around with the excuse of doing some carpentry for me. Got to talking. I know he's a notorious gossip and he's obviously, from the way he was acting and talking, got something big."
"I'll say. He's got big trouble!"
"Wait." Phil held out an open palm. "He came right out with it. Spit it right out with that fine Italian grin concealing the way he really felt. Told me in detail. Believe me, he saw us. No doubt. He's too accurate, he couldn't be guessing or making it up."
They looked at one another for a long moment, Phil's information sinking in. Anne was the first to speak, her face emotionless and white. "It serves us right for being so careless."
"Right." Jim agreed.
"Wrong," Phil snapped. "It was a risk we ran. We weren't lucky, that's all."
Jim cleared his throat. "Well, what are we going to do?"
"That's the problem. Naturally, Frank didn't tell me all he did just for the hell of it."
"Oh?" Donna looked worried.
"He wants something."
"Naturally," Jim said. "A little blackmailer. Wants money to keep quiet."
"More than that," Phil said calmly. "He took pictures."
"What?" They all talked at once, looking at one another with all kinds of emotions running through them: fear that their lust had been captured on film for all to see; excitement that someone took pictures of them when they were lewd.
Phil anticipated their arguments. "Frank Delasandro is no dumbbell. He has telephoto lens and infra-red flash. He convinced me. He showed me some sample shots. Even said I could keep them." Reaching in his breast pocket, Phil produced glossy five-by-seven snapshots and threw them on the coffee table where they fanned out.
Anne was the first to snatch them up. She saw a photo of her and her naked breasts. Phil's cock was in her hand and she was licking it with a look of rapture on her face. She dropped the picture like she was burnt. Another shot showed her sprawled naked on the water bed, her legs spread wide apart and Donna, Donna naked with her buttocks exposed, was kneeling between her legs. The looks they were exchanging were lascivious.
They huddled over the table, examining the shots, silently turning them this way and that, all of them feeling aroused by what they saw; aroused and ashamed, fearful, for they didn't know how the other person felt and the pictures were in the hands of a virtual stranger who obviously was going to blackmail them.
"Well, hell," Jim said, shrugging. "What's he want? What will he take for the negatives? If it's not too much, let's pay him off, get the negatives and consider it a lesson well learned.
"That's just it," Phil said.
"What? How much?" Jim asked.
"He doesn't want money," Phil said slowly.
There was a pause in the room. The silence was heavy. None of them moved or looked at one another. It was almost as if, by some kind of weird blood-knowledge, each of them knew what it was that Frank wanted, what it was that he was after. '
Finally, Jim spoke; he asked the question Phil seemed to insist be asked before he tell them. His voice sounded funny and light. "Well ... what... does he ... want?"
Phil smiled at his wife then at Jim and Anne. He took his time answering, nodding to each of them as if confirming their worst suspicions. "You," he said, looking at Anne, "and you," he said, turning to his wife. He looked at Jim. "He wants the women. He wants a night with them. He wants our wives."
"He ... wants ... our ... wives." The words seemed to hang in the air like some kind of spiritual neon. Anne sat, her face turning scarlet, her hands shaking, for she knew how she felt, what she wanted to do. She wanted to give herself to him with Phil and Jim-especially Jim-watching. She knew now how a whore, a prostitute, must feel when the madam calls her to perform some lewd act on a customer. She felt a mixture of revulsion and excitement churning in her groin. That, and another feeling: humiliation. She tried to control her trembling and knew that she wanted to do it.
So did dark petite Donna. It would be fun and give her an excuse to make love to Anne again. She looked at her across the coffee table and vowed that this time she would drive that big blonde bitch mad with lust and desire. She fought to control the swelling desire she felt in her groin and said nothing.
Phil was willing. His grin was cool and cynical, for he was looking way ahead.
Only Jim was upset. He made fists and thumped them on the arm of the chair. "That snake, that bastard!"
"What's the matter?"
"I'll punch his face in, really smack him silly."
"Why?"
"Why!" Jim looked at him open-mouthed. "Why, because he wants my wife, that's all."
"I don't mind." Anne's words stunned Jim. All he could do was stare at her.
"Me neither," Donna added, smiling at Anne all dew-eyed.
"That makes three of us," Phil said. He grinned at Jim, holding a palm up again. "Take a minute. Think. All he wants is some of what we all enjoyed last night. You didn't object when Anne made love with me and with Donna. I didn't hear you say anything then."
"That was different!" Jim said hotly.
"Was it? Take a minute. Think. Don't lose your head and go off half-cocked. What's so different? What will he do that we didn't do?"
"His wife!" Phil said triumphantly. "What about his wife?"
"Ah, yes, his wife."
"He isn't contributing his wife, that's what's different!" Jim was belligerent and triumphant. He had a moral there somewhere.
"Right," Phil agreed. "And that's where he's left himself wide open. Now, listen, now that you know, I have a plan."
They put their heads together and Phil talked. It was a comforting conspiracy they all entered, for, for the first time, they were all agreed. The women admitted they wanted to do it (have an orgy with Frank) and the men admitted it was all right. They had plans to make and equipment to buy. Frank Delasandro would have his way.
Both Anne and Donna felt sluttish as they sat in the Blocker house, waiting for Frank Delasandro to come in. Jim and Phil had driven off, prearranged. Frank was now outside, circling the house like a fox, peering around through his telephoto lens lest Phil and Jim try to double back and trick him like he had tricked them. He smiled to himself. He, Frank Delasandro, was much too smart for them. He checked the perimeter out then walked into the house, not looking at Anne and Donna. Nervously, he sat in a chair and tapped his feet, looking at his watch. Donna, wearing a miniskirt and nothing else, padded over next to him, her hips rubbing against him as she tousled his ink-black hair. "Wait!" he said, pulling away and looking at his watch.
Frank was being a stickler for facts. They weren't in the vicinity, the men. The phone rang and he jumped, signaling for Donna to answer it. She picked it up. "Hello?" then handed the phone to Frank.
Frank took it like he was James Bond.
"Yeah?"
"We're here, Frank, in Hicksville, like you told us."
It was Phil's voice. Frank looked cunning before he said, "Let me talk to Mr.... Jim. Jim Coleman."
"Just a minute."
There was a pause and Phil must have handed the phone to Jim. "Hello, yeah, what do you want?"
Frank's eyes narrowed. It was his voice. So they really were in Hicksville, like he had ordered them to be miles away. Even if they left now, it would be hours before they got back. Frank sat with his heart pounding and the phone still in his hand. It had worked, it had actually worked! The two women, Anne and Donna, were his and he could do what he wanted with them.
"Hello?" Jim's voice said.
"Go see a movie," Frank hissed into the phone and hung up. He looked at Anne who was by the bar, sipping a drink. She had a black cocktail dress on and was looking wicked. Frank got up and stalked to the bedroom, the women following. He checked the drapes to make sure they were closed, then, loosening his tie, he fell back on the water bed. His smile was cynical as he looked up at them.
"Okay, girls, take it off."
CHAPTER TWELVE
The next few hours were never to be forgotten by Frank Delasandro. It took some time before he calmed down; years, in fact. But, when an old man, he was able to look back on the evening and the two women with the kind of amusement that only time and wisdom can give you.
They were everything he had expected, everything that he had dared hope for. He, Frank Delasandro, was an obvious lady-killer and knew how to handle women like them. They both stripped before his astounded eyes. Close up, in the same room, they were magnificent. Their bodies were more exciting than from outside standing on a stepladder. They obeyed his every wish, they stripped when he told them to and they fell laughing on the bed, on either side of him, naked, eager, the nipples on their breasts poised and passionate.
They stripped him slowly, caressing his body and kissing him all over. They were brazen, wanton, their hands all over him; on his cock, his asshole, his stomach, his buttocks, his legs. And, as he watched, their mouths followed their hands, soft and wet. His head fell back and he moaned with delight as the two of them licked and sucked his cock. They fought for the opportunity to suck and stroke his prick and it was too much for him. He had his first orgasm almost immediately, Anne greedily swallowing his cum.
His orgasm only seemed to excite the women more, and they writhed on either side of him and on top of him, soon nursing him back erect. While he groaned with delight, Anne straddled him with her big blonde body and his cock sunk into the warm confines of her cunt as she squatted over him and began pumping up and down, He moaned again when Donna moved in and began kissing the nipples of Anne's big breasts, biting and sucking on them. Again, it was too much for Frank and he came, shooting his load into Anne's cunt.
It was Donna who urged and nursed his cock alive again, turning him over on his stomach and spreading his buttocks while she bent her head and the wet tip of her tongue flicked back and forth over his anus and Frank groaned again, feeling his penis swelling against the water bed beneath him. Donna hauled him over and he was on top of the little brunette with the firmly compact tits and his cock was in her cunt and he was fucking her for all she was worth. He was going to show her what a real man was like.
Donna seemed equal to the task and while Anne lay beside them and toyed with her cunt, watching, Frank settled down to a cold-blooded fuck. Donna Blocker seemed in the same mood, wrapping her little arms and legs around Frank and pumping, bucking, undulating back. Frank found he couldn't have gotten away from her if he'd wanted to. He fucked with all his might, determined to do her in. Donna lasted until he was panting with all his might and his heart was crashing against his rib cage. He thought he was going to pass out when he came again, the sperm shooting into her cunt and he flopped, gasping, exhausted on top of her while she begged, "Oh, no! More, more!"
He rolled off her and lay with his chest heaving like a bellows. He looked like a fish out of water with his mouth hanging open.
He felt drowsy and closed his eyes for a moment to open them with a start. He had fallen asleep. He saw the two women performing sixty-nine, licking each other's cunts with that Blocker woman on top, grinding her ass down on Anne's face while Anne thrust her magnificent hips upward, spread wide open.
It was too much for Frank. Despite his fatigue and the pain of his well-used penis, he felt it growing erect again. It was just too much to watch without getting horny. "Jesus Christ!" he said as the women parted and Donna helped him crawl on top of Anne, saying, "Let me see you fuck her. Fuck her good. Fuck her like you fucked me!" The words, coming from her mouth, urging him to fuck another woman, was too much for Frank. He began fucking with a desperation energy, feeling he knew how the Kamikaze pilots felt. He fucked with all his waning might while Anne writhed underneath him and he felt her big breasts ballooning against his chest. "Fuck her, that's it!" Donna said, stroking his buttocks as he pounded away, her finger finding his exposed, puckered anus. With a cry of real pain, Frank came again.
Donna helped him off Anne and he collapsed on the bed, not caring, lying with the rocking motion of the water underneath and falling into a deep exhausted sleep.
He awoke with red-rimmed bleary eyes to lift his head and look down the length of his thin tanned torso and see the two women kneeling on either side of him, crouched. Anne had his erect cock trapped between the vast softness of her breasts and Donna was sucking the head. His cock throbbed painfully yet he couldn't stop them. "Jesus Christ!" he said hoarsely.
He was too weak to do much more. He simply lay, moaning, until he came again, weakly, painfully, spurting a little cum into Donna's mouth. The women took turns sucking on his flagging cock until he passed out.
They wouldn't let him sleep, they were shaking him, rousing him, handing him some water and some pills. Groggy, unthinking, he took them.
In five minutes, he couldn't sleep. His eyes were like doorknobs and he felt like talking a mile a minute. Whatever they gave him, he couldn't sleep. "Would you look at that? Jesus Christ, look at that would you?" He kept saying it over and over as he watched the two women smear some kind of oil all over his body. Their bodies were already covered and they glistened in the light. It was too much and he gasped in pain as he felt his cock hardening once more and the two women, like barracuda, fell on it, sucking and licking.
Slipping, sliding, falling off, slippery with oil, he fucked both of them and came once more, crying out in pain as he did so.
All he wanted to do was rest, but they wouldn't let him. They were all that he wanted and more. They were obscene now, making love to each other while he watched, his eyes wide open, and talked. Sleep was gone and they were as wild as any wish he might have. And more. They did everything he asked and even anticipated his desires, dreaming up things he had never thought of. Donna urged him to fuck Anne while she spread his buttocks wide apart and her tongue darted over his asshole. Anne lay on her back while Donna squatted with her cunt over Anne's face, her buttocks exposed to Frank. Anne directed his prick into Donna's cunt and watched with an open mouth while he fucked for all he was worth. Whenever he stopped or failed, Anne would take his prick and suck it hard again then guide it back into Donna's cunt and lick his balls while he fucked.
Again, doubling over, gasping, crying out in pain, he had an orgasm with a little dribbling out.
The girls did everything he asked but one thing: they would not let him rest. They were voracious. He would fall asleep only to wake with one of them sucking his prick and he would moan and they would be off again.
Finally, Frank was having orgasms like a work-horse with the dry heaves. He had nothing left and his genital flesh was red raw and hurting. "Hey, whattaya want from me? Lay off, for Christ sake!" he said hoarse, his eyes bloodshot, his head lolling about.
But they would not. Their nakedly lewd bodies were all over him, teasing, urging, by word and deed, to nurse his cock back up. Always, despite himself, they succeeded and he would be fucking or sucking again.
Finally, his voice nothing more than a rattle, seeming unable to sweat anymore, panting, he said, "Enough. Jesus, have a heart!" And he meant it. He was about to pass out.
Anne, big, glistening, curvaceous, lewd, brazen, pretended to pout and said, "But you haven't fucked me where I want it, where I love it."
Frank managed to raise his head an inch off the bed. His bleary eyes focussed on her. "Where?"
Anne spun away from him, turning her naked buttocks toward his face while her fingers slipped and slid as she parted her oily cheeks and said, "Here. Fuck me!"
Frank saw her tight anus and his head fell back and he moaned as he felt the tortured flesh of his cock beginning to grow hard again. "JESUS CHRIST!"
"Me next!" Donna cried.
It was about two o'clock in the morning when the phone rang in room 735 of the Holiday Inn in Hicksville. Phil Blocker took the cigar from his mouth and put down his cards, looking at Jim Coleman. "I wonder who that could be?"
Jim picked up the glasses. "Let me get another drink while you answer."
"Hello?"
"Hi, honey." It was Donna. "Honey, everything is fine. Except Frank. He wants to talk to you."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, just a minute."
Phil heard someone panting into the phone and a voice, high-pitched, weak, near hysteria, said, "Help! Stop them, whatta they want from me. Hey, lady, please don't do that! Please!" The voice was near tears.
Phil grinned into the phone. "I thought this was what you wanted, Frank. Frank? You there?"
A wail of pain came over the phone. "I give up, I give up, I don't want no more!"
"Frank, where are the pictures and the negatives? Frank, where are they?"
"In the truck, in the bottom of my tool box!" His voice was wild, like a man near insanity.
"Okay. That's a nice fellow. Everybody gets what they want. And more. Frank, we'll drive back now and look for those pictures. When we've found them, when we're sure we got them all, then we'll tell the girls to stop."
"What?" Frank screeched across the wires. "You crazy? Hey, you gotta stop them now. NOW! HEY, YOU HEAR ME? NOW!! HEY, LADY, MY GOD, PLEASE DON'T DO THAT, NAW, AH, NAW!!"
Phil Blocker hung up and put his hands behind his neck and chuckled. Jim Coleman looked at him and grinned. "Worked, huh?"
"Sure. Like a charm."
"We'd better get back before the girls eat him alive."
"No hurry." Phil leaned back in his chair.
"You know, I've been thinking."
"What?"
"I'm just wondering what Mrs. Delasandro looks like."
Jim grinned and toasted Phil with his drink. "Phil," he said admiringly, "you are one son-of-a-bitch."
