enovel A Bride For Torment Marshall Roberts [Future Story Codes]

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A Bride For Torment ....(84k)    by Marshall Roberts

INTRODUCTION

A major network television "talk show" recently dedicated a full hour to the troublesome question of wife-swapping. Some of America's best-known authorities were called upon to pass judgment and give their opinions on this controversial subject. As the discussion progressed, one important fact became more and more evident: no one, not even the famed sociologists, could accurately gauge just how prevalent the practice of wife-swapping is in the United States today.

Also appearing on the program's panel were several couples who are active in swinging or wife-swapping clubs. One of these couples consisted of author Marshall Roberts and his lovely, tall, Nordic wife. (Marshall Roberts, of course, is actually the pseudonym of a best-selling novelist whose hardcover books are frequent book club selections, and whose last book for Dansk was the gratifyingly successful The Blackmailed Housewife.)

What seemed to tickle both the studio audience and the critics most about Mr. Roberts' candid opinions was the fact that he had thoroughly researched the subject and could quote famous historical leaders, religious dignitaries, and writers from antiquity to the presentmany of whom advocated a little swapping now and then.

It was Benjamin Franklin, Mr. Roberts pointed out, who wrote, "Ah... that wives were almanacks and we could but change them every year."

After several other similarly delightful quotations in favor of swapping, however, Mr. Roberts hastened to add that the subject is neither entirely one-sided nor all that simple. Dr. Ner Littner, medical director of the child-therapy program at the Chicago Institute for Psychoanalysis, for instance, has concluded that the wife-swapper is one who, unable to maintain an intimate relationship with his partner, "... builds into his marriage a distancing device. Wife-swapping is a safety valve that keeps intimacy between the two at a level each can tolerate."

Dipping further into his prodigiously retentive memory, Mr. Roberts also quoted Gilbert D. Bartell, Ph.D., author of a volume called Group Sex, as follows: "The bulk of our work will support the thesis that white middle-class males involve themselves and their partners in swinging to act out male sexual needs that are largely based on fantasies retained from adolescence.... For the female, swinging represents the fulfillment of the social-romantic demands that she makes upon her mate. And for both it represents a compromise that has become available within the American culture..."

Finally, Mr. Roberts quoted from a book entitled More Sex Swappers by researcher Sybil Sainte-Claire: "Many authorities see the entire sub-culture of mate-swapping as a playan acting out of fantasies by both partners. Whether or not this is neurotic or deviant has not yet been fully decided. Perhaps those dark questions will not ever be resolved for the public. Of those interviewed by this author, most, if not all, began swinging by going to bed with close friends within an arrangement mutually agreed upon or meeting a couple with a strong physical attraction and either seducing or being seduced by them."

In any event, it is not our duty as publishers to settle such debates but to give the public the best books we can possibly find or initiate. As soon as the television panel show was over, we got on the telephone and asked Mr. Roberts to do a book about wife-swapping for us. He agreed, and we are happy to present, for your reading enjoyment and edification, A Bride for Torment. We think that this novel may very well be one of the most accurate (and entertaining) ever written about husbands and wives who trade off partners.

Here, in A Bride for Torment, the very clear delights and dangers of wife-swapping are graphically portrayed. Mr. Roberts candidly admits that much of the material contained herein is autobiographical.

After reading this book, we think you will agree with the noted sociologists who claim that swapping is now as much a part of the American scene as apple pie. We think you will see that swingingfor some couplescan be an extremely perilous pastime, ripping apart the fragile fabric of their marriages and having tragic results. Yet it cannot be denied that a great many marriage counselors actually encourage the practice for some couples.

Because wife-swapping cuts across generation and cultural lines, we feel this book is an important contribution to the literature available about the subject. We do, at the same time, feel we must warn our readers that some of the scenes are graphic and the language explicit. If this were not so, the book would be worthless as far as sociological studies are concerned. We are pleased to place in your hands, as usual, an extremely worthwhile book.

-The Publishers North Hollywood, Cal. September, 1971

CHAPTER ONE

Jeff Haines stood, reading the words for the third time, each word burning itself into his mind.

WANT TO SWING We are attr. swinging couples early 20's and 30's. Would like to meet groovy couples for stimulating get-togethers as a group. Only letters with phone and photo will be answered. No singles.

He closed the underground newspaper and put it back on the rack. There had been a box number with the advertisement and he had memorized it. Jeff looked around the liquor store. No one seemed to be paying any attention to him. He had stopped in this strange liquor store on the way home, out of cigarettes and remembering there were none at the apartment. He had taken the first off ramp from the freeway and driven through the strange part of town until he found a liquor store, and had parked and gone in and purchased a carton of cigarettes.

On his way out, he had noticed the rack of girlie magazines and racy newspapers. It was a natural thing for Jeff to notice because sex was on his mind almost constantly. Married a year to Anna, he was desperately unhappy.

It had begun immediately, on his honeymoon, and gotten steadily worse. Anne simply did not like sex. She was cold and aloof, and the fights they had had were all about one thing: sex. Anne simply would not put up with much sex and never anything other than what has been described as "the missionary position."

Jeff fought to subdue his nature, which was passionate and imaginative. Anne was a good woman, warm and friendly and really caring about her friends and her husband. He actually liked being with her in any social situation, and he never stoppedever so gentlycaressing her in bed. This wasn't always easy, for Anne had insisted on separate beds and she always had the covers up by her neck.

And the infuriating part, the thing that had Jeff pounding on walls and going blind with hot horny desire and tossing restlessly in his sleep while he dreamed of hot naked bodies, was a simple thing: the body of his wife, Anne, in the next bed.

A petite blonde, she had a flowing walk with her hips undulating in a free way under her dress. Above her narrow trim waist, her breasts loomed large and exquisitely shaped. And they, too, seemed to undulate and shake when she walked. Since her figure was so well-formed, so firm and young, she never wore girdles or anything more than panties, bra, and a garter belt. And it showed in her every high-heeled step.

Her face was pretty, with a pert snub nose and wide sensuous lips. Jeff knew that together he and Anna made an attractive couple, and any stranger would be sure that Jeff was getting more than his share of loving. Yet in bed Anne would insist on talking about "a decent life" and "the future." If, as he sometimes did, Jeff would get out of hand and press himself against her, Anne would ward him off and sit up in bed, her breasts jiggling under her negligee. He would lookwith a dry mouthat her nipples protruding against the material and would listen as Anne said, "Look at me, Jeff. You want a wife you can respect, don't you? Isn't mutual respect the foundation of a good marriage? Isn't it?"

"No, goddamn it!" He wanted so much to yell thator something equivalentat her and take her in his arms and rip the damned negligee off and caress her and feel her naked body underneath him, all lubricious and wiggling, eager to be fucked.

But he didn't yell. He looked away and agreed and they had another "heart-to-heart talk."

In defense of Anne, Jeff was drunk on their wedding night andhorny, eagerhad been too rough and crude and vulgar. Men had often appeared to Anne as animals, brutes, unfeeling lechers who wanted nothing more than her body. She dressed to hide her body and discovered it was an impossibility: the more she tried to hide her breasts, the more she drew attention to them; the more she tried to control her walk, the more studied and provocative it became.

Despite her thoughts and aims, she radiated a natural lewdness; a deep, heated, milky kind of sexuality. To see Anne in a miniskirt, to see her bare shapely legs and full curving thighs, was to imagine what was higher; to think of her hips encased in panties and her naked buttocks with twin white cheeks and her downy pubic hair and to just know that her vaginal lips were prominent and shapely.

Indeed, Anne had a way of walkingwhen she wanted tothat allowed her vaginal lips to rub together in a soft lubricated way that excited her clitoris which would swell and send tingles of pleasure coursing through her body. Anne was a natural "tease," a body so well built and proportioned that no man in his right mind would pass her by without a long lustful look.

In the liquor store, Jeff swallowed and with elaborate casualness picked the paper up again and turned the pages. There were other ads for couples. There was one ad for a couple looking for a "bi-gal." The ad had apparently been placed by the wife, for it concluded with "Come and share my handsome husband with me."

Jeff tried to shift his position as he read on, finding the ad and reading it once again. BOX No. 848?C, GLENDALE. He had to keep shifting for a wild lewd idea was forming in his head and his prick was swelling in his pants and threatening to bulge out in a most conspicuous manner.

On a wild impulse, he walked to the counter, the paper in his hand while his other hand fished in his pocket for change. He tossed fifteen cents on the counter and hurried from the store.

He put the paper under the front seat and drove back toward the freeway, his mind entertaining a wild idea, an idea so insane that it both frightened and excited him. Driving with one hand, he nursed his erection into a more comfortable position and squeezed it with his hand. It felt rock hard and he was dying to get fucked. It was the idea he had in his mind that made him so excited: supposing he was to answer that "swinger" ad?

His heart pounded as he imagined what could happen. He could use a phony name and list his office phone, and he was sure he could find a snapshot of Anne and himself at the beach. He could rent a mailbox at the post office near where he worked and could see what happened. What the hell, he told himself as he drove, it's only in fun, and who's going to get hurt? What Anne doesn't know won't hurt her. If only she was more responsive, I wouldn't do a thing like this.

By the time he got home, he had convinced himself that he was not only right, he was morally justified in seeking a little fun. It all was, somehow, Anne's fault.

There were many things to sort out, as he felt he must be careful and consider all the possibilities. He had to think about the consequences of what he could be getting into, and be very careful. Jeff worked for a fund-raising company and had to think constantly of his reputation. And there was Anne to think of. And, inevitably, inexorably, there was the couple to think of. He tried to imagine what the wife was like.

The more he grappled with the idea, the more he thought of the wife, and the more he thought of the wife, the more excited he became. He spent two nearly sleepless nights tossing in his bed or sitting by the window, looking out at nighttime Los Angeles and smoking one cigarette after another.

On the third day, he rented a box. Two days later, he sat down at work after hours and typed out the letter on his secretary's typewriter. "Dear Mr. and Mrs., We saw your ad and decided to reply. We are interested in swinging with groups. Enclosed is a fairly recent picture. If interested, please send photo and letter." He decided to use his own name, gave the number of his post office box, and listed his office phone.

Then, with his hands sweating and his heart thumping, he dropped the letter down the mail chuteand immediately wished he could get it back, that it would miraculously shoot back out of the mailbox and into his hand so he could tear it to shreds and throw it away.

That evening, at home, watching TV, Anne said, "Shouldn't we talk about the future?"

Jeff closed his eyes. Above all, he didn't, at that moment, want to talk about the future, for the letter he had mailed was now part of the future. Supposing it was a trap, some sleazy kind of blackmail scheme? Supposing the police had put the ad in as bait to get a line on swingers? After all, there were swingers. Just last week he read about a wife-swapping club that had been exposed somewhere in the Midwest. Exposure could happen here. "What about the future?" he asked, trying to mask his anxiety and weariness at Anne's yakking.

"Well, I've thought of becoming active in some church. What do you think?"

"Church? Oh, well, maybe sometime."

"We could meet a lot of nice people that way. We could meet other married couples our own age that we had something in common with."

For one wild moment, he thought that Anne knew about the ad and letter already, that she had divined it by power of some puritan sixth sense. Yet she couldn't know. "It's a thought," he answered, his voice calm and flat. His jittery brain imagined going to some church and seeing it full of hedonistic naked couples in the throes of a big orgy.

God, he told himself, I'm horny.

He hurried to bed in order to catch glimpses of his wife's milky, moving, sensuous body. She undressed and dressed again in the privacy of the bathroom, insisting that everyone was entitled to privacy and pointing out, to his disgust, that she afforded him the same right. And it was true: she never came into the bathroom while he was undressing, and, if he undressed in the bedroom, she went discreetly into the bathroom.

She was modest, she said.

Modest? She was a cold-blooded bitch! Jeff raged in his mind as he lay on his back, pretending to sleep. She was a goddamned puritan, she was mean, and she was rotten to tease him so.

If only, he thought, if only she didn't have such a fantastic body, if only she were a little fat or flabby, if only she wasn't put together in such a loose wanton way, it would make it all a little more bearable.

But she wasn't fat or flabby and she slithered across the room, her head down in modesty, her hands against her thighs in order to mask them but only calling attention to the way they rippled and moved under her negligee. "Good night, dear."

Jeff heaved a sigh and mumbled, "Night." And then stayed awake for hours, thinking and fuming.

At work the next morning, Jeff jumped and almost yelled the first time the phone rang. And, as the day rolled on and each call turned out to be business, he began to relax and feel a little foolish for expecting an answer so soon. After all, he had just mailed the letter yesterday. By late afternoon, he was convinced that he would never hear from themthat strange husband and wife who advertisedthat it was all a hoax, that the whole thing was just a come-on to sell something.

"That's it," he whispered aloud to himself, "Just a trick to get you to buy something."

And then the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Haines? Jeff Haines?"

Immediately, when he heard the voice, he knew that this was no business call, that his letter was being answered. His face flushed with excitement, his heart started pounding heavily against his ribs, and he fought for control of his voice as he said, "Yes, this is Jeff Haines."

"Ah," the voice said, and it was a husky animal sound, a dark sexual sound. "Well, Jeff, I'm standing here in my underwear and looking at a picture of you and your wife."

"Oh."

"Oh? Is that all you have to say?" He heard a smug chuckle. The woman on the other end must have held her mouth very close to the phone, for it seemed to Jeff she was whispering right in his ear as she said, "I could think of a lot of things to say."

"Oh?"

"There you go again." A throaty peal of laughter came like ribbons into his ear and he found himself laughing with her.

"What's your name?" he asked, finding that the laughter relaxed him.

"Mmmmm, I've been called a lot of things. All of them nice," she whispered in his ear. "My name is Carol Johnson and my husband's name is Rick and we think we'd like to meet you and your wife. By the way, what is her name?"

"Anne. Pardon me, would you tell me something?"

"Anne. That's a nice name. She looks like it fits her. Sure. Ask away; what did you want to know?" "You said before that you and your husband would like to meet us. Right?"

"That's right."

"Well, how does he know? I mean, did you show him the letter and picture?"

There was an astounded pause before Carol's voice said, "Of course. What did you think? I'd never do anything he didn't want to do nor would he do anything like that to me."

"You showed him and he said okay?"

"Of course. Why not?"

"He knows and he approves?"

A hint of suspicion came into her voice. "Yes. Why are you asking me so many questions?"

"I'm sorry. I'm... we're new to this and it's just amazing, that's all. Is he home now?"

"He's sitting right here listening to us. Would you like to talk to him?"

"Wow. Eh, no, not right now. I'd rather talk to you." He couldn't hide his rutting excitement any longer and he stammered and stuttered. "Now, let's see, w-w-what do we do? I mean, that is, w-w-what happens next?"

Carol's laugh came across low and throaty and then he heard her voice pull away from the phone and she moaned, "Ooooooohhhhh, baby!" Then her voice came back to his ear in a low whisper, husky and wet. "Hello? Still there? What happens next, over here, is going to be wild! Hello, Jeff? That's a lovely name."

"Thank you. So is Carol."

"Yeah," Again it sounded as if she flung the phone away and Jeff heard her voice moan out, "Ooooooohhhhhh yessssss, ohh, please do that!"

"Carol?" he said.

Her voice came back into his ear. "Yeah, Jeff. Mmmmm. You wait for a letter and if you like what you see, give me a call."

"There will be a picture of you?"

"Mmmmmmm, he's taking it now."

CHAPTER TWO

For the next two days, Jeff was like a caged lion with a bad case of the hives. He snapped at Anne or ignored her. Coming home from work, he would jog for miles in the park until he thought he was going to drop. At home, he hid behind the paper or watched TV, and Anne told herself that he was coming down with the flu or things were going tough for him at work.

Actually, things were ridiculously easy for him at work and he found himself in a frenzy of energy and effort in order to fight down the heaving sexual drive he felt in himself.

He visited the post office on his way to work. He visited it three times on his lunch hour and once more on his way home. He ran to his box on his coffee breaks. In between, when at the office, he called the post office constantly, asking them to check his box.

At home, late, he slapped his pockets and made a face, getting up. "I'm out of cigarettes."

"I have some," Anne said brightly. He had been sitting brooding for over an hour.

He stared down at the pack for a moment before saying, "Those are plain. I want mentholated."

"I think there's a pack in the bedroom. I'll get them for you," she said, getting up and smiling at him over her shoulder.

"Never mind. They're not my brand."

She turned and looked at him with her clear blue eyes wide-set and puzzled. He looked at her standing there, her breasts thrust out in open temptation under her dress. There was no way around it; she was a knockout: a cold-blooded, frigid, inhuman knockout. It just wasn't right; nobody with her build should be so asexual.

"What?" she asked.

"I said, they're not my brand."

"But you just bought them yesterday."

"I know," he lied, "and I don't like them. In fact, I hate them. I like another kind."

"Okay," she said brightly, turning back toward him on liquid hips, her breasts swinging with her shoulders and bunching and shifting under her dress like two lovely balloons filled with warm oil. "I'll go with you."

"Naw," he said, backing off. "It's late and you're not dressed and I'll only be a minute and that way you can get dressed for bed or... something."

"All right."

"Anything I can get you?"

"No, just hurry back."

Jeff hurried. In fact, he drove like a madman, speeding past the drugstore doing sixty. He zipped downtown, ran into the post office, peered into his box like a man squinting to see a peep-show, slammed his fist against the wall as he said, "Son-of-a-bitch!" and ran out to his car to drive back home at breakneck speed, park, run up the stairs because he couldn't wait for the elevator, pause outside his door to catch his breath, and step in.

Anne was in the bedroom, in bed. She was lying on her side, curled up, reading a magazine as he came in. She looked up, smiling, her head falling back and her hair spilling out over the pillow. "You were gone long." "Was I? Well, they didn't have the brand I wanted so I drove to another place."

"Oh. Did they have them?"

"Huh? No, actually, nobody had them. I'll have to get them downtown."

All the time they had been talking, Jeff had been looking down at his wife and the deep rich cleavage that spilled out of her negligee and at her hip jutting up under the sheet and her long thighs as graceful as swans, and he wanted her hot body under him. Again, he felt the urge to rape her, to fall on her and rip her clothes away and force her to do whatever he wished.

Perhaps if, at that moment, Jeff Haines had obeyed his unreasoning impulse and forced his wife to have sex, perhaps their lives wouldn't have undergone the change that was in store for them. Perhaps. There is no way of knowing. Perhaps they would have met the Johnsons anyway.

But he didn't throw himself on her and talk dirty and tear off her clothes and rouse her to states of ecstasy. He went to bed.

Jeff Haines went to bed a sour frustrated man and tossed restlessly, to rise before the alarm the next morning and hurry through breakfast and race to the post office to find the box empty. "Empty," he mumbled to himself. "God-damn thing is empty. Nothing. Think I could get a lousy piece of mail, some 'boxholder' stuff. Nothing. Empty." He went away muttering.

At the office, he tried to look up Rick Johnson in the phone book. There was no end to the Johnsons in the book. Plenty of R. Johnsons, but no Rick Johnson. He decided to wait one more day before calling all the R. Johnsons.

As he hurried into the post office on his afternoon break, he saw a corner of something white in the box. He bent one nail back twirling the combination and getting the box open. He ripped the envelope apart. "Dear Boxholder," the letter began, "The enclosed coupon entitles you to..."

"Shit!" he said, throwing the letter away. "Cluttering up your box with a lot of crap. Shit!"

By the time the day was over, he was weary. He hadn't slept well in weeks and he was tired and irritable as he walked into the post office, trudged to his box, looked, and turned resignedly away, making a face. He did a double-take and spun back to the box. There was a letter there.

"Yes, sir," he said to himself, "there very definitely is a letter there." He looked at it, excited, smiling. It was a beautiful-looking letter and it was very surely a personal letter. By its size and shape and color he could tell it was no mail-order letter or any kind of boxholder flyer: it was a genuine, bona-fide personal letter in a dusky pink envelope and, if he stopped and craned his head, he could see it was addressed in a flowing handwriting.

He straightened up, looked around, licked his lips, and, with his fingers trembling in fine spasms, dialed the combination and took out the letter.

Mr. and Mrs. Jeff Haines

Like an invitation. He looked at the fine controlled feminine hand and turned it over to the sealed side and saw a return address and the narrow long V along which her ruby tongue had slid, wet and sexual, to lick the envelope and seal it.

He walked, trying not to run, to his car, putting the letter in his breast pocket as if he had just received atom-bomb secrets. Jumping in the car, he careened out into traffic and sped to a shopping center and parked at the far, deserted end of a supermarket parking lot.

Then he opened the letter. There were two photos enclosed with the letter and he looked at them immediately, his fingers trembling. A low sound, a kind of growl-moan came from his lips as he looked at the first photo.

It was a picture of Carol. She lay sprawled on a bed, stark naked, a lascivious grin on her face with the phone cradled next to her ear. All Jeff could think about was: My God, he was taking the picture when she was talking to me! The sheer lewdness of the idea and her sensuous abandoned pose was too much for him. He felt his cock swelling hard and bigger than ever before as he took in each detail of her curving figure. A bra and panties were on the counterpane next to her, carelessly thrown aside, and she lay on her back, her head of long red hair splayed out on the pillow, framing a sleek wild face with orange lipstick and slanting blue eyes. She wore makeup, lots of it, but it was right for her kind of face and personality.

And it was a wild gypsy kind of face; a face with a long slim nose that tilted up at the end in a pert kind of defiant lewdness that was heightened by her smug smile and the way the tip of her pink tongue licked at her lips, moistening them.

She was more than just naked; she was brazen, for she lay on the bed without shame, grinning up at the camera with an expression in her eyes which seemed to say: See? Here I am and I'm all yours.

His eye travelled down over her long elegant neck, his breath coming hard through his nostrils as he held the picture down below the steering column in case someone came over to the car. Her bare shoulders were well shaped and soft, and he liked the way her collarbone jutted out.

Her naked breasts were big and full and sprawled in a provocative way, and the nipples were distended and shaped liked bullets and tipped upward. There was a sheen to her skin where her cleavage began. He could imagine his hands all over her breasts, and, as he shuddered with excitement and shifted in his seat to release his erect cock and get it in a more comfortable position, he thought of his lips and mouth closing over those nipples and sucking on them and feeling her body under him.

Her body! Under her half-moon breasts was the delicate and curving configuration of her rib cage, and her stomach was curved and taut. His eye travelled down, down, and he saw the jutting protruding mound of Venus covered with soft red hair.

And there, there at the apex, the center, where her thighs and pubic hair met her torso, there in detail was her cunt. And she was excited. He could clearly see the soft folds of her vaginal lips under the hair as they were swelling and framing the entrance to her cunt. Her legs were spread so wide that he could see the long glistening slit of her cunt, a bright pink among the pubic hairs. He looked closer and could see the nib of her clitoris glittering with moistness.

And her thighs, her long curving legs and slim ankles! She was obviously a tall slim woman a few years older than he, with a form beautifully endowed by nature and obviously improved by athletics and diet. There wasn't an ounce of fat on her nor any harsh lines.

Jeff closed his eyes and tried to think. He had found somebody fantastic. It was too good to be true. He looked at the other picture. It was of a manRick, obviously. He was in his thirties, tall, well-builtalmost too well-builtand he was sitting on the bed, smiling at the camera, naked, except for a towel around his waist. Jeff didn't like him immediately. He was too well-built, in enviable shape, and too good-looking. He had a cocky look on his face and a peculiar glint in his eye that told Jeff he was used to getting his way.

He didn't spend too much time looking at the picture, snapping Carol's picture back into view instead. After another long look at her relaxed, utterly lewd pose, he opened the letter.

Dear Jeff, If you're still interested after knowing what I have to "offer," you can call this number and we can arrange a meeting.

Carol

The phone number was pencilled down in a corner.

Jeff was out of the car and striding across the parking lot putting the pictures in his pocket while he fumbled with the other hand for spare change and his head swivelled around looking for a telephone booth.

He found an outdoor phone and dialed, hanging up twice and waiting for his dime to return before he got the number right. The phone rang once and was snatched up. "You got the letter," Carol's voice said. Jeff was taken aback. "How did you know it was going to be me?"

He could almost hear her smirking. "Easy. You sounded so eager the last time."

"You were taking a chance. Supposing it had been someone else?"

"Not really. I would have said I was expecting a call, that's all. Oh, thank you, darling."

Jeff listened and heard the sound of ice cubes clinking in a glass next to the phone.

"Well, cat got your tongue?" she asked.

"No, not really."

"Well, come on over and this cat will get something more than your tongue."

He laughed. "Wow, the way you talk."

"Honestly," her voice came back, husky and purring. "And it's the only way I talk. Straight and honest." "I like that."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"How about some straight and honest talk from you?"

"Yeah. I don't know what to say."

"Why not ask a question? Like, how about if the little woman and I stop by for a drink?"

Jeff grinned into the receiver. She had such audacity and directness. "Okay, how about if we stop by for a drink?"

"Fine. Say, oh, about an hour. Dress is informal and, frankly, frowned upon."

"Whoa. Wait a minute. I... I... don't know. I mean about right now. I didn't think..." He bit his lip. In his horny excitement, he had forgotten all about Anne! Anne would never put up with this! Then, at what he thought was his most desperate moment, his darkest hour, the moment when he could lose the prize the first time it had been offered, he was hit by a brainstorm. He actually laughed out loud, wondering why he hadn't thought of it before! It was all so simple!

"Fine. Okay. Where do you live?" She told him, and he hastened to add, "Okay. I hesitated because I'm not sure what tonight's plans are like," he went on, lying smoothly. "If we can't make it, I'll call you and we can set something else up."

"Good. I'm eager to meet you, Jeff," she breathed into the mouthpiece. "And Rick is dying to meet... Anne, isn't it?"

"Yeah. In one hour."

He hung up in a kind of insane glee. No longer was there any thought in his mind about right and wrong, nor was there any thought of the dangers involved. The only thought in his mind was the thought that he could pull it off.

He made one more call: to Anne, telling her at length how an emergency had come up and that he had to work late and that the switchboard was shut down for the night and that he would call her when he got through. It seemed that they talked endlessly, and he felt that Anne would never get off the line, that precious seconds were ticking away and that he would be late. Yet, when he hung up, he glanced at his watch and was amazed to see that only two minutes had gone by.

He drove to the address that Carol had given him and saw that it was a house, set back from the street in a respectable and well-to-do neighborhood of Los Angeles. He could see lights burning in the windows as he slowly drove past for a second time. He had half an hour to kill, so he drove up into the hills above and behind the Johnson house and parked, looking down and locating the house. It had a swimming pool and lots of garden all around it. Perfect, he thought, lots of privacy.

And he still had more than twenty minutes to kill. He drove to a nearby shopping center and sat in a luncheonette, sipping coffee and tapping his feet as he watched the clock hands above and behind the counter move as if they were thick with glue.

Finally it was time. He stubbed out his cigarette, left change on the counter and started out, his heart pounding as he lit still another cigarette. He drove ultra-cautiously to the Johnson house with his head giddy and his mouth dry.

He eased up the long driveway and parked in front of a large ornamental door. Whoever the Johnsons were, they obviously had money. He pressed a button next to the door, chimes rang deep inside the house, and he waited, puffing on his cigarette, until he heard footsteps echoing across tile, coming to the door.

It opened and Jeff found himself looking at the smiling face and the tall heavy figure of Rick Johnson. "Hi. You're Jeff," he said, holding out a hand and giving Jeff a firm bone-crunching handshake. "Come on in." He stepped outside, holding the door open as he looked beyond Jeff, his smile suddenly vanishing. "Wait." The calm steel that was in his voice, the way his hand shot up like a policeman directing traffic, and the way his smile vanished and his face darkened told Jeff immediately that this was no man to trifle with, and, for a moment, he felt his plan was going to collapse before it ever got started.

Rick stepped out and looked up and down the driveway, then back at Jeff, his eyes narrowed and his broad shoulders hunched the way a fighter's would when he was moving in for the kill. "Where's your wife?" he asked suspiciously. "Where's Anne?"

CHAPTER THREE

Jeff was amazed at himself. He laughed, waved his hand, and said, "She's on her way here." Rick cocked his head. "You're sure?"

Jeff managed to look at Rick with an expression that seemed to say, What's eating you? "Of course. It's just that we didn't expect you'd want to see us right away. She was at a friend's house. I called her and told her and she said she'd meet us here."

Jeff could see Rick's doubt melting down to a healthy caution. "Okay, let's go in. How long will she be?" "Don't know. She should be here any minute."

The house as Rick led him through it was done in a tasteful modern design. For the first time, he found himself wondering what Rick did for a living.

"I'm in television," Rick said over his shoulder as if he had read Jeff's thoughts. "What's your line?" "I work for a fund raising company. We raise money for all kinds of charities."

"Yeah, we do a lot of film work for various outfits. What's yours? Maybe we could do something for you."

As they talked, Rick ushered him into a room, a kind of playroom with a TV, stereo, and a billiards table. At the far end of the room was a small bar. And perched on one of the stools was Carol Johnson.

She was smiling at him, completely cutting off his words and whatever thought he had in his mind. There she was, sitting, smiling at him, a drink in her hand. "Hello, Jeff," she said, her voice husky and enticing. He stood looking at her, taking in her figure. If anything, the picture hadn't done her justice.

"Jeff just told me that his wife, Anne, is on her way here and should be here any minute," Rick said as he walked behind the bar and Jeff stared.

She was real, sitting in front of him in a long dress that was cut practically down to the navel and revealed her deep globular cleavage that seemed to shimmer and quiver as she shifted her position. He could see that the top of the dress was nothing more than two fairly wide strips of material covering her breasts vertically, allowing them to spill out on either side, and accentuating the way her bare nipples pressed against the cloth as if yearning to be free. With only a shrug of her shoulders, she could be naked to the waist.

As she slowly turned on the stool to get a better look at him, he watched as the silken material slowly slid from one leg, revealing the long skirt to be slit on both sides all the way up to the hip. Jeff watched, unable to take his eyes away as the leg emerged, sheathed in a sheer black stocking that only accentuated every curve. As the silk dress fell away silently he saw her thigh and the way it swooped down to her knee where it met her rounded calve. The stocking stopped halfway up her firm, beautifully formed thigh and was held in place by a scarlet garter.

"Well," she said, dangling her leg enticingly and leaning back on the bar so that her breasts jutted forward and strained against the flimsy straps of her gown. "Aren't I the lucky one. You'll just have to wait, honey," she said, never taking her eyes from Jeff, her head lowered as she looked at him through long eyelashes and a suggestive smile played across her lips. She patted the bar stool next to her. "Come over here and sit next to me and tell me all about yourself, Jeff."

He moved as if he were made of wood and had no joints, sliding onto the stool next to her as she swung around, her bare thigh next to him with the dress sliding between her legs as she spread them slightly, rubbing her knee against his.

"What will it be?" Rick asked. "I've got everything."

"Oh, I dunno," Jeff said, trying to sound casual. "How about a Scotch and soda?"

"May I suggest something?" Carol asked, leaning toward him so that he could look down her dress almost to her navel and see the breasts loose and full, quivering as she moved. He tried not to look, but he could see the pink nipple of one breast, taut and pointed.

"Sure. What?"

She held her glass up, half full of a milky green substance. "What we're both having. Absinthe. You know the old saying, 'Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder'? Well, that isn't all it does. It'll put you in the right mood. It's one of the few true aphrodisiacs around."

Jeff rubbed his palms together and nodded. "Why not? I thought it was illegal."

Carol gave her throaty laugh. "It is. And after you've had a few, you'll see why. Honey," she said, turning to give her husband a melting look, "why don't you give Jeff a good jolt for me, huh?"

Rick grinned and poured a clear liquid into a glass and then added a few drops of water. They sat watching the liquid cloud and turn a swirling kind of green. "Sip it," he said. "Just sip at it. It's plenty powerful and, believe me, it took a lot of doing to find even a bottle when I was down in Mexico." He laughed easily. "And even a lot more doing, getting it past the customs inspectors."

Jeff sipped and tasted the sweet heady flavor that suggested a kind of heavenly licorice, a kind of dark syrupy lewdness. "Say, that's good."

"Honey," Carol said, reaching a bare arm across the bar and squeezing her husband's hand while at the same time rubbing her knee and thigh against Jeff, "get our album out and let's show Jeff."

Rick sipped at his absinthe and said, "I will. Thought we'd get to know a little about each other first." "That'll come. Let him look at the pictures."

Rick looked down at his drink. "Okay," he said quietly. "As soon as Anne gets here."

Carol made a face, pouting her wet lips in a tantalizing way. "Oh. Wait until Anne gets here? We're to wait on your pleasure? What's the matter?" she asked, chuckling in a throaty way while her thigh kept rubbing against Jeff. "Are we getting just a wee bit jealous? Is that it?"

Rick gave a tight smile. "No, it isn't that."

"Well, what is it?"

"Well, it's peculiar, that's all. I mean, the two of them arriving separately. For all I know, he isn't even married."

Carol looked at Jeff, and she was so close he could smell her perfume. "Is that true? Is what he's saying the truth?"

"No," Jeff said, shaking his head vehemently and gulping at his drink. "No, sir, I'm married."

"And your wife is coming?" Carol asked, leaning closer, her body pressing against his as she blew him a mocking wet kiss.

"Absolutely."

"Okay. What's so wrong with us looking at a few pictures while we're waiting?" she asked her husband. Rick grinned again, nodding at Jeff as if apologizing. "Okay. It's just that we got burned once."

"What do you mean?" Jeff asked.

Carol answered as Rick went out from behind the bar and crossed the room, pressing a button so that a picture slid away and revealed a wall safe. "Once we got in touch with some guy who turned out to be a weirdo and wasn't married and all he wanted to do was watch us make love."

"What did you do?" he asked, unable to resist.

Carol gave him a sly look that broadened into a brazen smile. "We made love while he watched and then kicked him out. It took a little persuasion on Rick's part to finally get rid of him, though. Rick's good at persuasion." She laughed and straightened her back so that her breasts jutted out. "Look at me." Jeff did and drained his glass.

Rick came back across the room carrying a large, leather-covered photo album. He placed it on the bar between Jeff and Carol. "These are just some shots, still shots. The movies come later if everyone is in the mood." He noticed that Jeff's glass was empty and quickly and deftly refilled it, his eyes on Jeff's face. Jeff was looking down at the album, unconsciously fingering his glass and drinking from it in nervous gulps.

"This will give you an idea of what we like to do and also give us an idea of what you and Anne like to participate in." She paused, rubbing her thigh, pressing her whole hip against him. "We don't make anybody do anything they don't want to do. But, once you come in, once you agree, the sky's the limit."

"We have a kind of club," Rick said easily, resting his weight on his elbows and looking Jeff right in the eyes. "We've found swapping mates and having orgies have changed our lives. If you're right for this, it will change your lives. No more will you have to go around sneaking out to have a furtive affair with the ever-present danger of being found out. No longer will you have a suppressed desire. If you want to do something and a member agrees, then you can do it."

"But," Carol said with a throaty chuckle, "you have to do it in front of all of us. No private sex allowed."

"And you have to allow yourself to be photographed," Rick added.

"How come?" Jeff asked. His cock was swelling in his pants from their talk and Carol rubbing against him and the expectation of what he was going to see in the album. Also, his head was beginning to swim as he looked down to see Rick refilling his glass again, and a feeling thick, lewd, undeniablewas coming over him. There was something exciting, something obscene and conspiratorial about the way the three of them were sitting and casually discussing all sorts of possibilities.

"It turns the members on to see themselves and othersmaking love. The women like it especially."

"It sure turns me on. Later we'll show you and Anne the film of Rick and me with three other people. That one always gets me hot."

Carol took a drink and flipped the book open. There, on the first page, was a color glossy eight-by-ten, a close-up of Carol's face in profile. Her eyes were closed and there was a look of ecstasy on her face as her thick wet lips were parted, her mouth open as if she were sighing. Held in her hand, in front of her mouth, was a huge thick cock, erect and with the skin pulled back and the purplish mushroom head clearly in focus.

"These are pictures taken at some of our parties. You like that?" she asked, nudging him with her knee.

All he could do was nod and pull on his drink some more.

"I love it. I love to do that. I love to have sex with two men at the same time. Do you like that?" Again, her knee caressed his in a slow suggestive way.

Jeff was conscious of sweat forming on his upper lip and forehead, and everything in the room seemed a deeper, richer color. He felt his cock jerk in excitement in his pants as he felt the smoky liquor boiling and churning deep in his groin, arousing an intensity of feeling he had never experienced before. "I... I don't know. I've never done anything" He waved his hand vaguely, "like that."

Carol chuckled and said, "Take it easy on that absinthe. It's dynamite." She turned the page and Jeff couldn't help allowing his breath to escape him. There was Carol again in the same close-up, her eyes still closed. Only this time the thick cock was in her mouth and her soft pulpy lips were closed around the shaft, and Jeff could see that it was wet from where she had sucked on it. Her hand was still holding it straight out and, as she turned the pages, he saw different shots of her sucking deliriously and one shot of her holding the swollen prick right in front of her face and her tongue licking flatly around the head that looked as if it was going to burst.

"How about Anne?" she asked. "Does she like group sex? Is she bi?"

"Bi?" Jeff asked in puzzlement. Hell, he wanted to say, she isn't anything!

"Yes, does she swing?" Carol asked. "You know, has she ever gone to bed with a man and a woman?"

"N-No," he said, shaking his head and wishing he could think more clearly. The absinthe was having its effect and all he could think of was obscene sex. He wanted to wallow in it, sink into it up to his eyeballs. Right at that moment, with Carol's perfume in his nostrils and her soft tempting body rubbing against his, all he could think of was fucking her to death.

"Is this a first time for the two of you?" Rick asked.

Jeff gulped his drink and nodded.

"Ha!" Carol said in throaty exultation. "I knew it, a couple of virgins!"

But Rick's eyes were narrowed now and he watched Jeff very carefully, then glanced at his wristwatch. "Say, where is your wife?"

"She's... she's... she should be on her way here by now," Jeff offered lamely.

Carol and Rick exchanged a glance and Carol slowly closed the book. "Well, we'll wait until she gets here," she said, her voice cold for the first time.

"Where is she?" Rick asked once again.

"I told you, at a friend's house."

Rick grunted. "That friend must live in Nevada. Sure she didn't go home?"

"Of course," Jeff said, taking still another drink. "I gave her your address and told her to be here in half an hour."

Rick grunted again and reached below the bar, pulling up a phone and placing it in front of Jeff. "Then you won't mind if I call to see if she's coming," he said, his voice icy and even.

Jeff sat silently, watching him look up his number in the directory and dialing the number. Just before he got to the last digit, he held his hand out and said, "No! Wait!"

Rick hung up, a bitter smile twisting his lips as he looked at his wife. "I knew it. He's a liar. Another guy trying to get a free thrill." He came around the bar saying, "Come on out. I'm going to teach you a lesson."

"Wait!" Jeff said, getting off the stool and lurching, surprised that he couldn't keep his balance. God, he thought, I'm drunk! "Wait a minute, I'm married, I swear I'm married!"

Rick had him by the collar and tie and his grip was unbreakable. "Tell us another. Out." He started shoving Jeff toward the door.

"Wait, let me explain!" he yelled just as Rick backhanded him and sent him reeling. "Honest, I'm married, it's just my wife and the way she is!"

"Rick," Carol called. "At least let him tell his story."

Rick gave him a shove and Jeff started tacking backward until his legs hit something and he fell back on a couch. "Okay, but it had better be good."

Jeff wiped his face where Rick had hit him and looked at the two of them. Rick was standing in the middle of the room, a cynical expression on his face as he lit a cigarette. Carol was still at the bar. She had swung around to face Jeff and the silky material of her long dress had slid off the other leg and hung between her knees so that both of her legs were bare up to the hip and he could see her unbelievably beautiful buttocks and rounded hip bones and he wanted her so much his whole groin ached. He let his head fall back on the couch and the words came out in a rush.

"I lied to you. I have a wife and she's frigid or something. The girl in that picture is Anne and she is built but is she ever a cold fish. I've been going crazy. I saw your ad and answered it and she doesn't know anything about it. I lied to you and I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sorry. I don't know what I had in mind, I don't know what I was going to do. Jesus, I can hardly believe myself now. It was stupid and I'm sorry and I'll never bother you again."

He got up to leave, glancing sheepishly at the two of them. They weren't looking at him, but at each other, exchanging looks of amusement and memory. "Sound familiar?" Rick asked his wife.

Carol grinned. "Yes, and I believe him. I think he's telling the truth."

Again Jeff found himself dumbfounded by the sudden turn of events. Rick was walking up to him and holding out his hand. "I'm sorry I got rough, but you did ask for it. You should've leveled with us from the beginning."

Jeff took his hard handshake and rubbed his chin. "I guess I deserved that. I'm sorry."

"Forget it," Carol said, sitting back at the bar. "Come on over and have a drink and tell us about it."

Jeff sat and drank more absinthe, getting progressively more drunk. His tongue loosened as he conquered his natural reluctance to talk about his lack of sex and poured his heart out while the two of them listened. He was surprised how long and honestly he talked and how seriously they listened, never interrupting and only occasionally exchanging glances. When he was through, Carol sighed and said, "It sounds like you're describing me two years ago."

Jeff looked at her, his eyes beginning to glaze a little. During the time he had talked, he had drunk two more glasses of the fiery absinthe. "Huh? You? Frigid?" He was sure they were pulling a joke on him.

"Listen, Jeff," Rick interrupted. "There is no such thing as a frigid woman. There are only repressed woman, woman who have been taught to think that anything sexual is evil. But believe me, there is no such thing as a frigid woman. Okay, how do you make a woman unrepressed? That's the logical question, isn't it? The answer is, it's easy."

Jeff frowned. "I don't follow you."

"Yeah, I know," Rick laughed. "Take it easy on the absinthe. Look, all you have to do is change her way of thinking."

"Oh sure." Jeff made a disgusted face.

"I'm serious. We'll help you. In fact, we'll help her. Hell, Carol was all tied up when I met her. I straightened her out fast, didn't I, baby?"

"You bet you did!"

Rick laughed and easy deep laugh. "Now I have to hold her back."

Jeff was bewildered. "You serious? Are you two for real? Are you putting me on?"

"Far from it," Carol said with a roguish wink.

"Listen, here's what we do. First, of all, we've got to arrange for the four of us to meet." His voice dropped and the three of them bent their heads together while Rick talked. Jeff couldn't believe what he was hearing. Rick was outlining a plan. He, Jeff Haines, was sitting with two people he had just met, listening to a diabolical plan whereby they would, all three, seduce his wife. And he found himself agreeing to it! He was agreeing to a plan that would culminate in the seduction of his wife!

And, on top of everything, on top of the lewd scheme, on top of the absinthe lying smoky and sexual in his brain, Carol Johnson was rubbing her thigh against his again!

The plan agreed to, Carol pulled away from the bar with a pretty pout on her face. "Hell, I wanted to play tonight. A thing like this could take weeks." She stood with her back to both the men, looking away with a sulky look on her lips and in her eyes. She stood with her legs slightly parted, and slits up the sides of the dress revealing legs that curved enticingly in the high heels she was wearing. Slowly, with her hands, she began lifting the dress; and Jeff, turning to see what she was doing, froze.

He was treated to a view of her legs as the dress was pulled higher and higher, above her knees now and still going up. Surely she would stop at the scarlet garters. But she didn't, the black clinging material rising higher. Jeff licked his lips and shot a glance at Rick behind the bar. The man was utterly at ease, standing with his arms folded and watching his wife's slow striptease. Jeff looked back to see the material stop, right at the point where Carol's rounded buttocks began. The dress seemed to stay there for an eternity and Jeff felt his cock swelling big. The room was silent, without a sound or movement, and Jeff was biting his lip, wondering what she was going to do next.

The answer wasn't long in coming. Slowly, the dress was hiked up higher, and Jeff's knuckles went white on the edge of the bar as her twin buttocks, naked, came into view. She wasn't wearing a damn thing under that dress! He searched his mind for the right thing to say to encourage her to go on. What? He couldn't think as his eyes took in her thick firm cheeks that came together, forming a deep crack between them. Half moons of shadows hung under the buttocks, making them seem soft and heavy.

The dress slid up over them as if it were caressing them and Carol Johnson stood with her back to the two men, naked from the waist down, the dress gathered around her thin waist. She was more than naked, she was lewd with the stockings and garters and dress only accentuating her buttocks as she began moving from side to side, and Jeff watched in horny fascination as he saw her cheeks undulate and move. She moved easily, completely uninhibited, conscious of the impression she was creating.

The movement of her arms tore Jeff's eyes from her swaying buttocks. She was pulling the straps off her shoulders so that she was bare to the waist with only the dress below. She turned and looked right at him, and her tongue licked her lips around her open mouth. He saw her naked breasts and his breath was coming hard and heavy through his nostrils as he took them in.

They were large and perfectly rounded. Snow white, they were tipped with pink nipples that were taut and jutting out and upward. They were like twin exotic fruits of delicious sweetness and, as he watched, one hand held the dress while the other slowly ran up her rib cage and cupped one of the heavy breasts. With her tongue between her white teeth, Carol seemed to offer the breast to him as she sidled toward him, pouting prettily, and rubbed her thigh against his knee.

Jeff shot a worried glance at Rick, who still was calm and composed, as if he was watching someone perform a fairly interesting card trick. Carol drifted to the stool next to Jeff, bent one knee and placed the leg over the barstool, her bare thigh resting on the black leather. Her hand let go of the slit behind her and it fell noiselessly, and her palm felt its way around to her stomach where she caressed herself and let the hand slide down to her crotch.

Slowly, one leg over the barstool, she began pulling the dress up again. First her dimpled knee and her firm thighs came into view, sheathed in the sheer black of her stockings, then the scarlet garters; and she pulled until just a corner of the dress was hanging in front of her crotch like some limp G-string.

Jeff held his breath and tried to swallow. His temples were pounding and his groin ached as he felt his cock get bigger and harder than it had ever been before. He couldn't take his eyes from the corner of the dress and, as he watched, his eyes bugging, she lifted it slowly and her cunt, surrounded by soft red hair, came into view. And she was excited. The lips of her vagina were pulpy and full, curving in a wanton pout not unlike the sexy one on her lips as she watched his reaction and slowly pumped her hips back and forth in a tormenting way, thrusting her pelvis out so that he could see the slit of her cunt and how it gleamed and glistened in the light, moist with excitement.

Slowly, her other hand still cupping her breast, she came toward Jeff, her leg sliding off the stool as she forced her body between his knees, wedging them apart so that she stood close to him. She came closer, pressing all her hot naked body against him, offering her breast to his mouth with her hand.

He was like a deer, nervous, startled, wary. Surely, any second, Rick was going to explode and there would be hell to pay. He rolled his eyes around to see him behind the bar. Rick shrugged and held his hand out, palm open. "Go on, make it. I'll watch."

Jeff closed his eyes and opened his mouth, feeling the tenseness of the nipple and the warm lascivious softness of the rest of the breast. He sucked on the nipple and twirled his tongue around it and heard her moan and felt her weight lean against him.

Then, as if she were fainting, he felt her body begin to sag, and he put his arms around her and tried to hold her up. Then he jumped as he felt her hands on the insides of his thighs, caressing them, feeling for his cock as she continued to sink. He let her go and she sank to the floor, kneeling in front of him and unzipping his fly. Her hand felt for his cock expertly and she gave a little cry of delight as she found it, and he felt himself jump and twitch.

Her hand making a fist around the cock, she pulled it out and looked at it as she slowly stroked it, pulling the skin back farther each time.

A noise behind him startled Jeff and he jerked his head to see Rick moving out from behind the bar. "It's all right," he said reassuringly as he crossed the room and sat down in an easy chair. "I just want to watch."

Watch! Jeff wondered what kind of nuts he had gotten mixed up with! Carol Johnson must be a nymphomaniac, he reasoned, and Rick himself must be some kind of pervert. To sit by and watch another man fuck his wife!

Carol continued to stroke his cock and it bulged to the point where it hurt him, but he felt a great wanton wildness building deep in his loins and he didn't give a damn. Whatever happened, he didn't give a damn. He found himself moaning. Whatever these people were, this would be an experience he would never forget.

He looked down at this beautiful redhead kneeling between his legs and at his own bare cock held in her hand and watched as she stroked the foreskin all the way back and his mushroom head, so bloated and swollen that it was shiny, was right before her mouth. He moaned and roiled inside as he saw her pulpy soft lips part and her red tongue slowly slide out and touch the tip of his cock, and a shudder of deep lewd pleasure swept through his body as he felt its softness and warmth and wetness.

Then, like a starving person, she opened her pretty mouth and her head darted forward. He felt her hot wetness as her pulpy lips wrapped around the shaft of his prick and she sucked. He looked down at her, saw her lovely large breasts and the slow rhythmic bobbing of her head, and saw her free hand groping with what remained of her dress, unsnapping the clasp at the side. The dress fell away from her slim waist and slipped over her subtly curved hips and down to her knees.

He took her head in his hands, tangling his fingers in her hair, and spread his legs wide and shoved his pelvis forward, ramming his cock deep into her mouth and feeling the hot sweetness enveloping his shaft. He closed his eyes and moaned with delight.

His breath coming hard and heavy, he had to look down at her again as his hips pumped, obscenely and he held her head in place with his hands as she sucked greedily, hanging onto his prick with lips that pouted in a lewd manner as he pulled his cock back. He could see that the shaft of his prick was covered with lipstick now as he rammed it back into her willing mouth and her tongue twirled around in her mouth, sending spasms of pleasure coursing up his spine.

She was spreading her legs as she knelt by the barstool, her free hand finding its way to her crotch. As both he and Rick watched, her hips began to pump with a loose, lewd, ball-bearing action and her hand caressed her cunt which was moist and pink, split wide with desire.

He glanced quickly across the room. Rick was watching the two of them, smoking a cigarette, a strange expression of his face. Quickly, Jeff looked down again and saw her stick her finger deep into her cunt and begin to saw in and out as her hips gyrated and pumped with a lascivious motion.

It was too much. With a guttural cry of desire, he forced her head away as she fought to suck more, fighting with all her might, her lips making a wet smacking sound as he pulled his tortured cock free. He had to fuck her! And she knew it! It wasn't that she didn't want him to fuck her, she wanted all the sex he could give and... more!

She tore at his belt and pants with a wanton disregard as he whipped off his tie and popped buttons on his shirt and threw his coat on the floor. She scrambled to her feet, her breasts jiggling as she helped him out of his clothes and they embraced and staggered and fell to the floor with Jeff crashing on top of her. The breath erupted out of both of them and they lay for a split second, seeing stars and catching their breath.

Carol felt his hard prick flat against her soft stomach, and she made a soft mewing sound and began twisting and undulating under him, trying to work the cock down to her groin. He massaged her breasts with his hands, feeling her legs split wide and her knees draw up. She was bending her knees as wide as they would go, splitting her hot moist cunt wide open, eager for him to slam his prick into her writhing molten depths and have him fuck her with all his might.

With a calculating cold-bloodedness born of a wild passion, he placed the thick head of his cock over her cunt and rubbed it up and down the length of her slit as she moaned and writhed, her eyes closed, her mouth open with desire. "Fuck me!" she whispered. "Fuck me all night!" The word "Fuck" burned in his absinthe-fogged mind and he felt a dark lewdness tense his body as he continued to run the head of his cock up and down her lubricated slit, feeling her vaginal lips gape wider, feeling her body shiver with delight every time his prick ran over her distended clitoris. "F-fuck m-m-meeeeee!" she keened, her voice wild and high.

He felt her fingers tracing down his spinal column, feeling each inch as they explored lower. They moved past his waist, and he closed his eyes and tried not to moan with delight. He dared not think of what she was going to do.

With a frenzied movement, her hands cupped the cheeks of his buttocks and she tried to pull him toward her, trying, with all her might, to shove his cock into her wanting cunt. "Fuck me!" she begged. "Fuck me any way you want!"

Her words drove him mad. Her face was distorted and wild with passion as her head thrashed back and forth, sending her red hair whipping through the air. Then, as he tensed, he felt one finger find its way to the crack between his naked buttocks and burrow its way down until it touched on his anus. With a yell, a bellow, he rammed his cock into the pulpy hotness of her cunt. It sank all the way home into the deep mysterious depths of her being, and he felt it hot and hard with her moist pussy contracting and pulsating around his shaft as if it were determined to hold it prisoner in her cunt forever.

Forcing his arms underneath her and holding her tight so that her head fell back and her entire rib cage was lifted off the floor and her breasts jutted out and burned into his chest, he began fucking herslowly at first, slowly in a snarling desire. She responded wildly, gyrating her hips like a whore gone mad, eager to get more of his cock, if that was possible.

He lost all control and began fucking with all his might, his balls slapping against her exposed buttocks as he lifted them off the floor with each stroke and slammed her back down again.

It had been months since he had had an orgasm or even sex of any kind, and he felt his cum building with the might and undeniable thrust of a bulldozer out of control. He fucked with a wild abandon, his cock sawing in and out of Carol's cunt like a piston in a racing engine. Carol was being fucked toward her own ecstasy, wiggling her ass and thrusting her pelvis up to meet each one of his savage blows as her eyes closed and she let her head fall back and her mouth open in wondrous rapture.

"I'm ccummmmming!" Jeff gasped.

"No! Wait!" she wailed, throwing a look at her husband in the chair. He was sitting forward on the edge of his seat, watching the two of them on the floor with glazed eyes.

"I... I... I'mmmmm cummmmming!" he gasped again.

"No! Wait! Fuck me, oh, fuck me, darling!" she cried, redoubling her efforts, thrusting up with all her might, her cunt squeezing on his hard cock as if she would never let go of it.

Rick, seated, quiet all the time, was watching the scene with growing excitement. Jeff was fucking his wife brutally, lifting her off the floor and then slamming her down on the carpet again with dull thuds. And Carol was covered with sweat and writhing under him, her breasts jiggling and being flattened each time he crashed down on her. Her face was wild and her hips were pumping obscenely. Rick grinned a tight cruel grin. This was what he liked. Once she was in a state like that, there wasn't anything she wouldn't do. He controlled his desire with a fine-honed edge of sexual fury. After Jeff had spent himself, he would join the action and they would have a mini-orgy under way.

He sat back in his chair. Enjoy yourself, buddy, he thought, because, in a little while, I'll have your wife, that Anne, the bitch, crawling on all fours and catching pennies in her mouth and she'll do anything I say.

Jeff was breathing hard and his heart was racing fast as he felt his orgasm growing until it seemed to fill his whole groin. Then, like hot mercury finding a channel, his cum raced as if it had been poured down a funnel and exploded, almost tearing the head of his cock off, and splattered into her tormented cunt. He felt himself thrusting, pouring white hot sperm into Carol as his toes tingled and the hair stood up on the back of his neck and he bellowed, "Aaaaaaagggggghhhh!"

And still the cum pumped out of his cock, filling her cunt and seeping out the sides and making it easy, so oiled and lubricated, for him to saw in and out of her. He pumped once, twice, once again, felt his strength going, his muscles turning into taffy, his bones melting into warm butter; and, with a long satisfied moan, he collapsed on top of her.

Carol was far from satisfied. She fought underneath him, gyrating her hips and urging him on. But it was no use; he was limp. With another long moan he withdrew, pulling his cock, still half erect, out of her and rolling over on his back and lying spread-eagled on the floor.

Carol was above him, a wild woman. He opened his eyes a slit to see her straddling him, kneeling, her hand holding his slippery cock and trying to guide it up into her cunt. Her breasts were heaving in a wild and exciting way as she leaned over him and gasped, "Fuck me, fuck me, make me cum!"

But it was no use and, with a feline cry of rage, she stood up, glaring down at him. He looked up to see her straddling him, her long shapely legs on either side of his torso, her hips thrust out. There, in front of him, was her cunt, and she was spreading her vaginal lips with both her hands, her arms bunching her breasts together as she looked down at him. He watched as she spread her cunt wide, and he could see its pink walls and the way it pulsated and contracted with lewd desire.

As he watched, she moved up so that she was kneeling over his chest and slowly began to crouch, her cunt spread wide and inviting, one fingertip wildly caressing her clitoris. She was right over his face now, her legs fully bent and split wide, and he reached up and seized her hips, digging his hands and nails into her flesh while she closed her eyes and moaned with delight at the pain and pleasure he was giving her. Then, then, without realizing what he was doing, Jeff Haines did something he had never done before in his life, something he never dreamed he would really do. Slowly he stuck his tongue up into her cunt and wiggled it around.

Carol went mad and began to moan and croon and pump her hips in a frenzied way, eager to get more of his tongue up her cunt. Rick, her husband, lifted his eyebrows. Haines was more of a swinger than he had thought. He got up, unnoticed by the two of them and went behind the bar where he got his camera. Coming around, he crouched on the floor, got them in focus, and clicked the shutter. He crouched all around them, coming closer, getting a close-up of Jeff licking her clitoris with the flat of his tongue as Carol threw her head back and moaned, "Oh! Oh, God. Do it, do it, make me cum!"

It was too much for Rick. He put the camera down and started to get undressed himself, taking off his clothes quickly, his great cock springing out erect and ready. He seized his wife under the armpits and dragged her off Jeff and across the room to the overstuffed chair. There he forced her across the chair, face down, so that her bare buttocks hung over one arm.

Jeff looked up from the floor to see Rick naked, standing over his wife. Carol's head was on the far side of the chair, her long red hair hanging down and partially obscuring her face. Her buttocks were nearest his face and he was staring up at them and watching, as if in a lewd dream, as she slowly split her legs wide, bending her knees.

Like that of most redheads, her skin was a milky white, and he saw her long thighs and her wide lovely buttocks bared and the cheeks spread wide so that her tight, puckered anus was vulnerable. Her cunt, surrounded by pubic hair, spread wide again so that he could see its glistening red walls and the way it twitched and contracted with desire.

And standing behind her was Rick, stark-naked, with the biggest prick Jeff had ever seen held in one fist. He was looking down at Carol's buttocks and begging cunt with a wild grin on his face. Jeff felt himself growing aroused again as he watched Rick put the massive head of his penis against her cunt, spreading the vaginal lips wide, into an almost perfect "O". He saw Carol lift her buttocks with a soft delicious moan and wiggle them in a lewd way, trying to get more of the head into her. Her cunt was split wide now, stretching the lips taut. Rick was filling her cunt with his cock.

Jeff got up and leaned on one elbow and watched, his own prick beginning to swell again. That smoky lustful absinthe in the pit of his stomach awoke, like some sleeping giant, and began to make him wild with desire. Rick was positioned right behind his wife now, spreading his legs and bracing himself, and Jeff crawled across the floor to get to one side so that he could see better.

It seemed as if Rick's huge cock was going to split her right in two as he leaned forward. With a lewd plopping sound and a cry of delight from Carol, the prick slid in, the head buried in her cunt, disappearing from view. Slowly, like some primitive battering ram, Rick sank his shaft deeper into her cunt and just as slowly, lewdly, Carol began pumping her hips and gyrating them. Her clitoris rubbing on the deep thick material of the armchair only served to heighten her lust and excitement.

Jeff rubbed his eyes. Could he believe all this? Was it really happening? He had just fucked Carol Johnson while her husband had sat by and watched. Rick had even approved! And now Jeff was watching Rick fuck her in the most obscene way. Although he had never thought of it, there was something so lewd, so obscene, so exciting and lascivious about fucking while someone watched, that it was tremendously exciting to watch the two of them fucking in front of him.

He crawled closer, wanting to see every little detail of Carol's humiliation. No, humiliation was not the word for it. She was too willing. It was depraved and wild, but she had yet to be humiliated. All kinds of primitive wild thoughts were racing through his absinthe-drenched mind as he crawled closer and looked up to watch them fucking.

Rick's great cock was buried to hilt in her moist hot cunt, and Jeff watched her vaginal lips, stretched tight around the shaft, and saw them convulsing as she used her groin muscles to contract around the cock and her buttocks screwed up as she spread her knees as wide as they would go. Slowly Rick pulled out his lubricated cock, then plunged it back home again. Jeff could see her vaginal lips roll out as he withdrew, and it looked as if she was clinging to the cock with all her might. Then, as Rick sent his massive penis back home, Jeff saw the lips grow taut and roll in until they were completely covered by pubic hair.

Each time Rick slammed home, Carol's body would contract and her breasts would lurch and jiggle in an obscene way and she would let out a little moan. Rick's cock was like a great piston on a ship just getting under way: slow and ponderous at first, but gradually gaining in rhythm and speed.

His legs spread, holding onto her hips with both hands, Rick was crouched over Carol now and really slamming it home to her, her body jumping and quivering as she cried out in wild delight.

She raised her head, pulled her long thick red hair out of her eyes, and turned, looking back and beckoning to Jeff. He got to his feet and walked around to where her head was and her arms seized him around the waist and pulled him to her. Again he felt her hot wet mouth close over his cock as her hands slid down and cupped his buttocks and he found himself looking at Rick, looking him in the eye as he fucked his wife and she sucked Jeff's cock.

He was wild now. A combination of too little sex for too long and the absinthe he had drunk made him wild and bold. He bent his knees and seized her head in his hands and shoved his cock as far as he could up her mouth and felt it hot and wet and tantalizing. He looked down and saw her naked body covered with sweat, bucking and rippling as the two of them battered her from either side of the chair.

He went wild, mad with desire and chortling with a recklessness he had never felt before. Always, when making love to Anne, he had been gentle and timid, frustrating his natural desires, for he felt that women didn't like that kind of thing. Now he felt her lips locked around the hard long shaft of his prick, and the harder he fucked her the more she sucked. And, as he watched, the harder Rick fucked her the more she undulated and gyrated her white buttocks.

Both the men had to use all their strength to hold her now as she writhed in an abandoned sensuous way, up on her knees now on one arm of the chair with her hands supporting her on the other as Jeff held her head in place and she sucked on his cock as if she were trying to pull it off his body, suck it on out and eat it. He felt still another orgasm coming as her body seemed to curl and grow tense. She made a sound deep in her throat and bucked once, twice, three times convulsively, and her body fell into a deep shiver as it sagged and he came into her mouth, his head thrown back, his mouth open.

Carol's cheeks seemed about to explode as she took the hot cum in her mouth and then swallowed and sucked for more. Her cheeks went hollow as she sucked for more, and Jeff yelled as his body lurched forward and he came again and again as he saw Rick's thick lubricated shaft sawing in and out of her widespread buttocks.

Jeff felt his whole body turning to taffy again, and he spurted once more into her mouth, and, with his thighs quivering in deep delight, slid to the floor once again. His cock slid out of Carol's mouth, attached to her lips by rubbery strands of cum for an instant. He thumped to the floor and Carol followed him head first, making a contented rattling sound in her throat, her eyes unfocussed, her lips smiling, her body quivering in fine fast spasms from her own orgasm while her buttocks and breasts jumped under the impact of Rick's wild fucking.

He was fucking her right across the chair, her head touching the floor now and her breasts sprawling and jumping obscenely as Rick was all over her, fucking her with a brutal thrust, his face twisted as he rode to his own orgasm, roaring, throwing his head back and shouting, "AAAAGGGGHHHH!"

And then he collapsed on top of his wife and Jeff watched as the two of them slowly lurched, toppled, then fell in a soft sighing mass to the floor. Carol was on top of him and he felt her hot naked flesh burning into his. She managed to open her eyes a slit and give him a tired smile, her hips writhing over his cock ever so slightly. "Mmmmmmm," she murmured, her breasts bulging, crushed against his chest. "I'd like to try that again."

Jeff moaned, his eyes closing.

"Only this time, you and Rick switch."

Jeff wagged his head from side to side. "I can't, I swear I can't. I'd love to, but I can't!"

Carol was pushing up, getting off him as Rick slid off her back. She was terribly wanton and wicked looking, kneeling over the two men, her body naked and glistening with sweat. Her smile was lewd as she said, "You two just lie next to each other." She had a cock in each hand and was playing with them. "Leave it to me. I'll get you aroused again," she said, licking her lips and bowing her head to suck first one prick, then the other. "It's going to be a long night."

Jeff moaned and thought, Yeah, it sure is going to be a long night.

CHAPTER FOUR

That night, very late, Jeff drove home in a stupor. "Fantastic," he kept saying as he drove along, trying to focus his eyes. "Absolutely fantastic." He kept mumbling to himself, over and over, until he reached his door. There he paused a moment, slumping against the wall and letting his head fall back as far as it would go and looking up at the stars with bloodshot eyes while his body sagged in a pleasant exhaustion.

Jeff stood staring up and realized his life had changed. Just how much it had changed, it was impossible to say at that moment. If someone had told him the story of the Johnsons and described what he had gone through, he wouldn't have believed them. Nor would he, earlier, have believed that he, Jeff Haines, would have willingly posed naked for pictures. Never would he have believed he would pose naked, his cock erect, in obscene postures with a woman like Carol Johnson. He had. He had done it willingly, finding each excess carrying him on to still another one.

At some early hour of the morning, when they were lying naked, exhausted, eyeing each other's bodies, Rick had groaned and gotten up. "What say we smoke a little hash?" he asked of no one in particular. He had brought out a little brass box and a water pipe. Jeff had been dubious, refusing, a little angry. He cursed himself, thinking he should have known they used drugs. They were nothing more than drug addicts, trying to tempt him. He lay on the couch, watching Rick kneeling by a coffee table, cutting slivers off a dark brown block that looked like thick brown candy and placing the pieces in the bowl of the water pipe.

He started to rise, ready to make some excuse and leave. After all, what they were doing was illegal. And besides, it was drugs. Carol was slumped in the overstuffed chair, the one on which Rick had so mercilessly fucked her earlier. How long ago had that been, he wondered. God, they had done such obscene things since then!

Carol was watching him with a knowing look. "Relax," she said. "Hashish is great. Greatest aphrodisiac in the world. Few puffs of that stuff and you'll be fucking the drapes."

"Huh?" he said stupidly. "Yeah, but, well... it's getting kind of late."

Carol smirked at him. She was slumped naked in the chair and her naked breasts billowed up and jiggled as she laughed. As he watched, she slowly swung one long lovely leg over the arm of the chair, exposing the slit of her cunt, which was dilated with fresh desire. "I get horny just thinking about it," she said as she swung her other leg over the other arm. Her head fell back and she pumped her loins forward and up and held them jutting out so that her cunt was spread wide open and her anus was exposed between the tight curving mounds of her buttocks.

"Ohhhhh," she moaned. "Rick," she called, looking at the ceiling, "take a picture of me like this. Ohhhh, Jesus, I'm getting hot again."

Rick looked up from his work at his wife, pausing to drink in all her lewd loveliness; then turned back to the water pipe. "Jeff," he said casually, "you take the picture. I have to get this thing ready."

Despite himself, Jeff was getting another erection. His prick hurt as it swelled. He had never fucked so much or in so many different ways before in his whole life. He got to his feet and got the camera. Kneeling in front of Carol, he focussed the camera and began clicking off several shots from different angles. He suddenly found himself detached, trying for a close-up of her cunt and trying to take long shots that included her lovely body and large curving breasts.

As he kneeled and squatted and peered at her body through the viewfinder, he found himself getting excited all over again, his cock swelling big again and rock hard.

Earlier they had played games. Rick and he had dressed and gone outside and pretended to be plumbers, coming to fix an emergency leak. Carol was the housewife whose husband was away on a trip and they had raped her, forcing her to their will. And Jeff had loved it!

Later he and Rick had taken turns fucking her, banging her as hard as they could. They had fucked with all their might, going until they neared an orgasm or exhaustion. Then one would roll off her and the other would take over. They had fucked her until she had had five consecutive orgasms and her eyes were rolling in her head and her body was limp while saliva rattled in her throat.

Now he was taking still more pictures and Rick was preparing hashish. Carol let her legs fall off the chair and she slipped to the floor and slid sensuously toward him. Her hand gripped his cock and he watched as she bent her head and very slowly, lewdly, with a wet mouth, sucked his prick, then looked up at him and smiled. "Don't worry. Hash won't hurt you. It's not addictive. All you'll get is horny as hell." She sprawled on her back at his feet, her red hair spraying out over the floor, her breasts shifting, her hips undulating slowly. "And, if you're horny, you always have me here."

After some more persuasion, he had decided to trust them. He obeyed their instructions timidly, only taking little puffs from the pipe as Rick held a match over the bowl. He held his breath as they instructed and, after three puffs, he didn't feel anything at all. He decided it was all a hoax or he was immune or it was not at all what he thought it would be.

He was conscious of a great deal of time going by and when Carol gave him the tube from the water pipe again, his brow knitted in perplexity. He suddenly couldn't remember how many puffs he had. Was it five? Fifteen? Fifty? Five hundred? He accepted the tube and took a drag, a deep one, and held his breath and looked at Carol and Rick with an absent, dazed smile on his face. Carol suddenly let the breath whoosh out of her and exploded in a fit of giggles.

He watched her with a smoky kind of detachment. It was strange watching someone laugh so hard over nothing. He glanced down at the tube to see he still had it in his hand. Had he kept it all this time or was it his turn again? Making such decisions was suddenly a terribly difficult and complex thing. With a little smile and a pleased look on his face, he shrugged and took another drag, only to find his lungs were full with the sweet heavy smoke and he choked and Rick laughed.

And somebody else was laughing. To his amazement, he identified the laughter. It was him, his own voice. And that fact seemed to make him laugh all the harder. He looked around the room which was swimming and blurred by the tears in his eyes and he laughed all the more, seeing three naked people squatting on the floor around a coffee table and laughing at one another.

The laughter built until he was helpless and he toppled over, falling to the floor with his body light as a feather and every nerve in him was tingling with a delightful ecstasy. His laughter subsided and he lay feeling his body, feeling as if he were having an orgasm through every pore in his body from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.

He wiped his eyes and sat up to look at Carol and Rick. Their eyes gleamed with a glazed look and their grins were loose and wanton. He looked around quickly. The lighting had changed in the room. Surely Rick had changed the lighting. No, it wasn't that. All the colors in the room were deeper and richer. And all his thoughts were wild and loose. He felt he could, at that moment, do anything. He had no moral compunctions. There was only one thing to consider, one god to obey: the god of pleasure. He thought of himself as an ancient Greek or Roman, indulging in an orgy with no guilt feelings and only the desire to be pleased on his mind.

He looked at Carol. She had changed. Her skin tones were deeper and more translucent. She seemed more animal and sexual than ever before, if that was possible. She was more desirable than before, more lewd and brazen. He crawled toward her and pushed her back on the floor and she sprawled willingly, splitting her legs wide and pulling her knees up so that they crushed against her mountainous breasts and her cunt and anus were exposed wide and ready for him to ravage her.

"Wait," Rick called.

Jeff looked at him, sitting on the floor, his cock erect in his hand, a smile of absolute depravity on his face. "Let's have a little floor show."

Carol closed her eyes and didn't say anything. Jeff looked down at her, then back at Rick.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Rick said, that smile playing about his lips, "I mean this has been all Carol's night. She's had a lot of fun. How about if you and I sit back and smoke this pipe and Carol entertains us for a while?"

Jeff looked down at her exposed groin, at her cunt and the way her hips were slowly pumping back and forth. Then he looked back at Rick once again. A grin came over his face. He felt so lightheaded he thought he might float across the room and hover next to him. Hell, he thought, I can fuck her later. "Sure, why not?" he asked, grinning goofily himself and crawling back to the water pipe. Damn, he thought, this stuff is strange.

"Sure. What kind of show?"

Rick looked at him, then smiled at his wife with a secret smile. There was something so lewd in his expression that Jeff felt a dark sadistic thrill course through his own body and he grinned down at Carol.

"A little show with Bruno," Rick said softly.

Carol reacted to the name of "Bruno" by moaning, her head back and her hands trailing up and cupping her breasts as her knees relaxed.

Jeff couldn't tear his drug-induced gaze from her naked body as she lay on the floor, her hands cupping her breasts while her fingers wantonly caressed and pinched her already distended nipples and her hips and legs writhed and undulated in a slow dance of lascivious-ness. "Bruno?" he asked, utterly bewildered. "Who is Bruno? Where is he? Huh?"

Rick was getting up. "You'll see," he said thickly, his eyes unfocussed. He made his way across the room and Jeff watched him for what seemed an eternity and thought he would never get out of the room. And, when he was gone, he was sure he would never find his way back. He would be alone forever, alone with Carol. As if remembering something, he looked around at her. She was still on the floor and her excitement was something to see. Jeff felt his cock grow larger as he looked at her. Her hands were trailing all over her body now, gliding down over her stomach, and her fingers were kneading in her pubic hair and then caressing her cunt itself.

He shifted in his chair so that he could see her cunt clearly. Her legs were still spread and her knees raised. Her eyes were closed and a lewd smile was playing on her lips as her tongue licked around, making them wet. Her index finger was gently caressing her distended clitoris, rolling it around and coaxing it into wilder excitement as tiny shivers of pleasure rippled through her body like ever-widening circles in a pond.

"Who is Bruno?" he asked thickly. He couldn't, as he watched her lewd behavior, help playing with his own cock, he was so horny and it felt so good.

Carol answered by moaning and rolling her hips under so that the tight cheeks of her buttocks were exposed and her cunt was tilted upward. Slowly, with a guttural moan, she began sawing a finger in and out of her cunt.

The noise of a door being opened behind him almost made Jeff leap out of his skin. The trance, the state of drugged lewdness he was in, made him completely forget about Rick. In fact, when he had asked Carol who Bruno was, he wondered why he was asking such a question. Bruno? Why ask a silly question like that? Who was he? Had he, Jeff, made the name up or had he heard someone say it? He had heard someone mention it and it was Rick.

Rick was coming through the door now, still naked, still grinning, and with a huge German police dog, a shepherd, on the end of a leash.

Jeff stared with his mouth open as the great dog lifted his muzzle and sniffed the air. He stood rigid, sniffing hard, then spotted Carol on the floor, naked, writhing, sawing her finger in and out of her cunt with an increasing rhythm. Her eyes were closed but her face was wild with an unholy desire as her hips twitched and then undulated in a steadily building tempo.

Bruno lowered his head and, with a sound deep in his chest, he began straining on the leash. Rick, despite his size and strength, had a difficult time restraining the dog until he could, with legs spread, reach and unsnap the leash at the collar. Instantly the dog bounded across the room and stood over Carol's naked body, his own big body tense, alert, his tail nervously wagging.

Jeff sank back into his chair with a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. He looked at Rick unbelieving. Surely he was wrong; surely this was some kind of joke. No man would do a thing like that to a woman. No man would do a thing like that to his wife! No woman would want a thing like that done to her! He passed a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes. It had to be the hashish. He was drugged and imagining all sorts of insane things. He looked again. The dog was poised over Carol, his head lowered, and he was growling deep in his throat. Carol slowly withdrew her finger from her cunt, her arms fell to her sides and she was still, her legs spread wide apart, her knees still raised.

And that lewd smile was still on her face. Her eyes were closed and her whole attitude was one of dreamy lasciviousness.

Jeff turned to Rick with a look of horror on his face. "Rick!" he said, his voice imploring and his look full of disbelief.

Rick had settled down in a chair, his camera in his hands as he checked it out. He looked at Jeff with that vague, drugged look. "What? Oh, I forgot. Meet Bruno. He's a watchdog and... pet."

"Rick, you're not going to let... you're not going to let that dog..." He couldn't finish the sentence.

Rick looked at him with a truly evil grin on his face. "Let Bruno do what?" he asked, enunciating each word carefully.

Jeff waved a hand toward the strange pair on the floor. Bruno had his body low to the floor, as if he was stalking some prey, and he was creeping between her legs, his nose sniffing hard and his body trembling with excitement. Jeff's mouth was dry. To him, this wasn't sex; it was perversiontrue, bestial perversion. He sat back, unable to ask the question, unable to tear his eyes from the scene he was watching. This was something he had never, in his whole life, dreamed about. He had heard about it. When he was in the army, in Korea, he had heard about a whorehouse that put on such shows, but, by the time he got word of it, the authorities had closed the operation down.

"Maybe you ought to ask Carol if she objects," Rick said softly. "After all, she's the one involved." There was a silence in the room broken by Rick's soft chuckle. "You could ask Bruno or you could try and stop him. I wouldn't. He's got a bite that could break your arm like it was made of straw."

Jeff looked back at the dog and Carol. To his amazement, Carol was slowly jutting her hips upward, her cunt defenseless, wide open, right below the mastiffs panting head. My God, he thought, what am I going to see? What is he going to do to her?

He couldn't look away. The whole scene. The two of them sitting naked, watching. Carol, naked, lewd, under the dog, offering the beast her groin, was too obscene and exciting not to watch. What had been depraved and horrifying a moment before was now utterly fascinating.

The great police dog lowered his head to Carol's soft, hair-covered crotch and sniffed it. His body was trembling as if he had just come upon a bitch in heat. Carol moaned as she felt his muzzle near her vagina and then gave a keening kind of noise as his cold nose suddenly made contact with her tiny puckered anus. She tensed as his tongue snaked out and licked wetly up and down the crevice around it, the tip burrowing slightly into the fleshy outer anal ring.

And she moved, spreading her legs farther apart. The dog, misunderstanding her intentions, thinking she was trying to get away, raised his head slightly and emitted a forbidding growl, then lowered his head again, greedily lapping the narrow pink slit between her thighs. He ran his tongue wetly the full length of it, from the tight closed pucker of her anus up over the fluted pink edges of her glistening cunt and on over the tiny sensation-bud atop her pubic mound. His great tongue spread through the soft hair-covered swelling like a wet knife through soft butter. It flicked relentlessly between Carol's widespread legs, stopping periodically to curl and burrow its way deep into her. She jerked convulsively and began to squirm under the dog as he lapped and sniffed at her loins.

Jeff shuddered and squirmed in his seat from the sexual stimulation that indulging in something so forbidden gave him. He had his cock in his hand and his erection was so big that his skin was stretched tight to the point where it hurt around his great mushroom head. Gone, thanks to the effects of the hashish, were any reservations or thoughts of morality. He could think of nothing else but the pent-up pleasure coursing through his body and the scene in front of him. A moan, off to his right, made him tear his eyes from the obscene spectacle on the floor in front of him. Rick was slumped in his chair, his eyes on the dog and his wife, his mouth open and his great cock in his hand.

Jeff shot his glance back at Carol and Bruno and watched, tiny moans of pleasure and excitement escaping from his open mouth. Carol raised her hands in the air, held them for a wild indecisive moment in the air as if, with the last bit of will she had, she were fighting her own impulses, then dropped them, seizing the long ears of the dog.

With a deep animal sound of her own, echoing Bruno's, she kicked her legs back over her head and pulled his whole muzzle forward, into her lubricated vulva. His giant tongue thrust up the moist passageway like an attacking lizard, ravishing her upthrust crotch without mercy. Wild, wailing, incoherent shrieks poured from her lips, pleading and encouraging the dumb animal salivating between her writhing, undulating buttocks. He worked and lapped like the animal he was, the rutting lust of the wild driving him on as his long thick tongue penetrated deeper and deeper into her skewered vagina.

Jeff let out a moan of his own which matched those coming from Carol. He thought he was going to have an orgasm right then, yet neither he nor Rick could stop stroking their pricks as they watched Carol pull away from the dog's wild darting tongue and roll over on her stomach.

Bruno backed off at her sudden movement, then darted forward again, more eager than ever as he saw her vulnerable and naked upturned buttocks.

She lay spread-eagled on the floor and the huge head lowered again, the long wet tongue slithering into the exposed crevice between Carol's buttocks. Then Bruno began nuzzling her lust-swollen crotch, pushing his massive head between her pelvis and the floor. Jeff's eyes widened in almost total disbelief as the head lifted, raising Carol's buttocks. What Bruno wanted was plain, and what Carol was doing was so lewd and obscene that Jeff felt an unholy shudder of pleasure streak through his body and he wanted to shout encouragement to her. Carol was obediently kneeling, elevating her spread buttocks, bending before the huge animal in abject surrender.

The relentless long tongue had lashed her into such a pagan desire that she would do anything. His lips twisting in a wild smile, Jeff suddenly understood what Rick had meant when he said that she, Carol, would do anything once past a certain point. In a flash, for a split second, he imagined driving Anne wild, seeing her naked and lustful and under Bruno. At the thought, another shudder ran through him and he felt the blunt tip of his penis grow wet as some hot sticky cum oozed out and wet his fingers.

Carol was on all fours and the huge dog mounted the spread rounds of her buttocks, his heavy paws on her back. It was only then that Jeff saw why Rick had been gone for so long. Black leather mitts had been lashed to Bruno's paws, preventing him from clawing Carol.

Jeff's eyes grew wider as he watched the glistening scarlet penis slip from its huge sheath. It was dripping and the tapered point slipped and danced in the hot wet crevice of her buttocks as the animal trembled and jerked, trying to bury the tapered point and thick shaft in her body.

Her face wild, her eyes open for the first time, strange primitive sounds coming from her throat, Carol looked back, shifting her buttocks, trying to capture the huge obscene shaft. Like an animal, she strove to sheath the lengthening shaft in her voraciously grasping cunt. The sharp tip missed, slid up to find the momentarily relaxed anus, and attempted to enter. For a wild second Jeff thought she was going to let the animal sodomize her, but she gave out a little cry and tensed, evading the thrust. Bruno, spurred on by almost having entered, returned immediately to the attack, more rutting than ever.

Mindlessly, he thrust blindly, the thin point sliding unsuccessfully beneath, into the soft hair-nested crevice, rubbing wetly against her clitoris. The hot scarlet of his jabbing penis contrasted with the deep red of her throbbing cunt, spreading her fevered lips wider as his shaft rubbed between them.

There wasn't a sound in the room but Carol's fevered little cries and the dog's guttural sounds as his penis grew still larger, unsheathed and a dripping scarlet. Carol, out of control, reached back and, despite Bruno's warning growl, seized the slippery organ and guided the point of it into the pink red slit, spreading her vulva lips apart wider and wider and wider with each forward thrust.

Groans of disbelief came from the lips of Jeff and Rick as the giant police dog jerked forward and buried his huge obscene prick deep up in Carol's pink, squirming, grasping pussy. His penis slithered forward with a wet rush until it was sunk to the hilt, his hairy balls swinging below her wet pubic hair.

A moan of relief came from Carol's tortured lips as she began to move backward rhythmically to meet the thrust of the panting dog. As Bruno's forelegs trapped her around the waist, she began to undulate her body and move her buttocks in a slow lewd circle, utterly abandoned and shameless, wanton with the delicious animal fucking she was receiving from behind.

Carol's face was turned toward the two naked men in the chairs, looking first at Jeff then her husband, Rick. It was plain to see the effect the fucking was having on her. Her face was contorted in rapture from the wild primeval screwing Bruno was giving her. Her large beautifully rounded breasts danced tightly beneath her writhing torso, moving in time to the skewering cock of the dog as it slid deep into her from behind, a relentless hot poker of glistening flesh buried deep in her belly.

Both Jeff and Rick were sprawled in their respective chairs, beads of glistening sweat on their foreheads as they stroked their cocks in an increasing rhythm. The room seemed hot, much hotter than before, like a great sex-oven, heating their passions to the boiling point. Jeff found himself wild, pagan, primitive, ready and willing to do anything.

With drugged eyes, he watched the scene before him. He watched the obscenely swaying body of Carol Johnson kneeling on the floor before the hunching German police dog. She had gone completely out of her mind now and was shouting lewd encouragement to the dumb beast through clenched teeth. She was begging him to fuck her harder and faster and to spew his cum up her cunt. In her drugged madness, she wanted to be filled with the animal sperm, and that was all she wanted, that was all that mattered. Carol Johnson was no longer human but a quivering mass of sweating, lust-deranged flesh that was begging to be subjugated. She was reveling in her humiliation at being fucked by this panting beast in front of her husband and Jeff, and she ground her buttocks back against his hairy jerking body like another animal.

Jeff swam in a roaring current of lust. He was excited to the point where it felt his brain was on fire and, as he continued to stroke his cock, feeling his hand wet with his own cum and his cock slipping and sliding, lubricated, his mind ran over wild insane scenes that could come about. It could be Anne here and he would humiliate her and watch Rick fuck her. Another man fucking his own wife! The thought only made his naked body sweat all the more, and he was pumping air through his nostrils like a bellows. Yes! He thought of it with a wild lewd exultation! He would surrender his wife, he would lure Anne into a trap and watch her go from a haughty frigid bitch all the way down to a groveling hot whore begging for more. And, when he had her aroused, when he had forced her to subject herself to all kinds of humility, when he had her screaming to be fucked more, at that moment, then, then he would have his revenge and it would be Rick and Carol and himself who watched Bruno fuck Anne until she was an animal herself.

The wild dream of Rick and Carol naked, with him, with Carol lying between them, watching Anne on the floor with Bruno fucking her, was too much. Hot wet sperm was spilling all over his hand and dripping in thick gobulets down onto his stomach. But still he was aroused! His passion was so great he didn't think he would ever be satisfied! No sooner did he experience the exquisite thrill of an orgasm than his lust came rushing back stronger than ever. A quick glance at Rick told him he was experiencing the same thing. It seemed as if his cum only acted like extra fuel on the fire, making his lust all the more intense and demanding.

Suddenly there was a loud cry from Carol. She was thrashing her head from side to side wildly, her long red hair whipping through the air. She was in the beginning throes of an orgasm and screwed her buttocks greedily against the dog like a she-demon gone insane. The animal's tongue drooped from his mouth as he fucked into her churning buttocks from behind. Saliva dripped from his mouth onto her sweating back which bucked and rippled.

She screamed suddenly and rammed back against the dog wildly just as he jerked forward and his cock began spitting its sperm in hard spurts deep into her clasping vagina. Jeff watched as her buttocks began contracting uncontrollably, signalling her own orgiastic upheaval deep in her quivering belly. Thick white sperm oozed from her tight cunt squeezing the prick of the dog; thin trails of sticky white ran down the ivory insides of her thighs. Her buttocks glistened, displaying soaked pubic hair and pink flesh as she pitched forward on her face, semiconscious, the rapidly deflating cock of the dog slipping from her mauled cunt with a sucking sound that echoed lewdly through the room.

Carol lay face down on the floor, her eyes closed, her breath coming in wild gasps while Bruno stood above her, wagging his tail in appreciation and bending his head to sniff at her still quivering cunt. Then, true to his animal instinct, he stretched, yawned and moved away, sleepily looking for a warm corner.

If Carol wanted any more sex, she didn't have to ask for it. She didn't have time; the men, Rick and Jeff, were on her like two maddened animals, dragging her to the couch where they threw her and she sprawled lewdly on her back, her legs falling open. Her eyes were half closed and her breath was coming in deep gasps. Her loins glistened with sweat and cum and one heel thumped to the floor as Jeff looked down and saw the red slit of her cunt in front of her eyes. "Fuck me," she mumbled. Rick crouched over her face and stuck his slippery hot cock into her mouth and began fucking her viciously while Jeff fell on her like a madman, his prick plunging wetly home into her cunt. He closed his eyes and fucked her with all his might, thinking insanely, 'We're starting all over again!

And now he was home, outside their apartment, and the eastern sky was beginning to pale and his body was tired and every muscle in it was stiff and sore and his penis was so sore he even dreaded the touch of his underwear against it. "Fantastic," was all he could say or think.

CHAPTER FIVE

Anne was dead to the world when he let himself into their apartment. He tiptoed into the bedroom and saw that she was asleep, lying on her side, one hip raised enticingly under the blankets. He stood over her for a moment. He was a different man now, and for a moment the wild recklessness of the night came back to him and he thought of pulling the blankets down and ripping off her Mother Hubbard nightgown and ravishing her lovely body. She did have a magnificent figure and Rick would be pleased with it. Jeff's lips spread in a grim smile as he thought of watching her being fucked by Rick Johnson. He had all sorts of half-formed plans in mind for her and he stood gloating, his aching cock beginning to swell again.

The pain of his erection told him just how much he hurt and how tired he was. He forced himself to undress as quietly as possible and slip into bed. He let out a long low sigh as he felt the clean sheets around his body and the warmth of the blankets. He closed his eyes blissfully, sure he could sleep for a week.

Only to jump at the screaming, insistent jangle of the alarm! Jesus Christ, he told himself, it was time to get up already! He got to his elbows and fixed bleary, unbelieving eyes on the clock which vibrated on the bureau. He was going to have to go to work with no sleep at all!

Anne rolled over, stretched in a lithe motion, and yawned. She blinked several times and looked over at Jeff. "Good morning, darling."

"Morning."

"Did you get home late?"

"Yeah."

"I tried to wait up for you, but I got so sleepy."

"Yeah, I know," he said, struggling out of bed. He had seen the ashtray full of cigarette butts and the empty cup that had contained tea and all the magazines strewn over the couch and floor. With a grim satisfaction, he thought that in the future she would be reading something different from House and Garden and drinking something a little heavier than tea.

"Did you work late?" she asked, getting out of her bed on the far side and not looking at his naked body as she headed for the bathroom, beating him to it.

"Yeah." In one way, he was relieved that she was so puritanical. He was glad that she fled to the bathroom and closed the door, leaving it open just a crack so that they could talk. He got into his underwear and walked over to the door, eager to complete his alibi. "Then the boss and the boys wanted to go out for a drink, and we did. Talked shop, mostly."

"Oh? I'm glad you had a good time."

"Yeah." He was buttoning his shirt, standing by the door, when he noticed that he could see through the crack and watch his wife undressing in the mirror. If only she didn't notice! "Yeah, it was nice and I met a nice couple."

"Oh? Who?" she asked.

He watched as she pulled her nightgown off over her head and he saw all of her naked figure. It was petite and made his mouth water and his prick begin to swell again. If anything, she had a better figure than Carol. Was that possible? He stood close to the crack in the door, watching. Yes, it was true. There was a thick softness to the rounding of her curves and her breasts were like two ripe honeydew melons seen in the moonlight. Her stomach was firm and her waist small. Her buttocks jutted out in two rounded identical firm cheeks and her stomach, seen in the mirror, swooped down to her blonde pubic hair which was wispy and soft.

Her thighs and legs were perfect, like the shapely legs of a thoroughbred showgirl. She was everything a carnal man could want; especially a lewd son of a bitch like Rick Johnson. If he could do what he had last night to Carol, his own wife, imagine what he would do to Anne!

The thought brought on a sadistic lust in Jeff again and he thrilled to the thought of doing something so lewd and forbidden. He was going to do it, he knew it; he was going to offer his wife up to the God of lust and depravity. He was going to help the Johnsons in their scheme to seduce and debase and humiliate his own wife! He watched, his penis growing hard as she moved about the bathroom, brushing her teeth with a vigorous motion that made her large firm breasts jiggle and sway in such an exciting way. She stopped and straightened, standing still as if listening.

"Jeff?" she called, her mouth full of toothpaste.

He stepped away from the door, hastily buttoning his shirt and moving toward the closet for a pair of pants. "Yes?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Who did you meet?" she asked.

"Oh. Yes. Sorry, I was getting dressed," he called back as he quickly hopped into his pants. "I met this couple. Rick and Carol Johnson."

The names, sounded in his own house, thrilled him. He had already started the plan. He tiptoed back to the door and peeked in to see her bending over the basin. Greedily he took in her buttocks and imagined her on her knees and hands with Bruno spreading those beautiful cheeks and licking her anus and cunt and her wiggling and begging to be fucked.

She rinsed her mouth and straightened, her buttocks rounding out pertly below the curve and hollow of her back. "What are they like?" she called as if he were across the bedroom.

He hurriedly tiptoed away from the door and called, "They're very nice. Intelligent and attractive and successful." He suppressed a wild laugh as he said, "We hit if off right away. Very nice people." He couldn't hide his smirk as he said, "I told them all about you and they want to meet you. They thought we might get together for dinner or something."

Anne came out of the bathroom in her robe, leaving the door open, silently telling him it was his turn. She would get dressed while he shaved. "What kind of people are they?"

"I told you. Nice and... warm and intelligent."

"I mean, what does he do?"

"He's in television. Makes some kind of documentaries."

"What does she do?"

"I dunno," he answered, suppressing a smile. "Guess she's a housewife."

"Is she beautiful?"

He leveled his eyes at her and said, completely honest, "Yes. She's a redhead. But not as beautiful as you." Anne gave him a prissy, pleased smile and said, "Why, thank you, kind sir."

"Don't mention it. I think they really would like to have dinner or a drink with us."

Anne gave a professional frown as she waited for him to go into the bathroom before taking her robe off. "I don't know. It doesn't seem that we have much in common. I mean, he's in television and you're in fund raising. Do they go to church?"

Jeff stepped into the bathroom and closed the door halfway. "Honey, take my word for it, we have a lot in common. You'll see."

"I hope so," she called above the running water as he began lathering his face. The cool lather felt good and he smiled at his image in the mirror. She would see just how much they had in common.

He thanked whatever gods were looking over him that day. The boss was out of the office for the day and he pretended he had a lot of paperwork to do and locked himself in his office and lay back in his chair and thought.

He had to be careful what he did. He had to think more about the Johnsons. Last night now seemed like an unreal dream out of some pornographic version of the Arabian Nights. Yet it was real. "It was real," he said aloud. "Fantastic." There were things to consider. Their behavior. They knew little about him yet talked in such open terms to him and then behaved in such a lewd, abandoned way!'

He wondered if they were crazy, if they weren't mad and apt to get violent or do something that would endanger him with the rest of society. They had drunk absinthe and smoked hashish. All that was dangerous and illegal. Aside from the illegality, there was the matter of what such things did to one's mind. Perhaps he was wrong and, for the first time, he began to have misgivings.

As the day wore on, he became increasingly agitated. Supposing he went through with their plan and Anne didn't respond? Supposing the opposite effect was created? Supposing she saw them all as depraved beasts and blew the whistle on all of them? Anne was capable of doing such a thing.

Although he found his weariness increasing as each minute went by, he couldn't sit still. He paced his office restlessly. There were, after all, certain realities to be faced. Would he want his wife, Anne, to be like Carol? Was that what Carol and Rick hadthat kind of married life he wanted? Did he really want to bring other men into his home and watch his wife act like a slut and fuck them right in front of his eyes? Could he stand the sight of Anne naked, on her knees, sucking on some stranger's cock while he watched?

His mind answered with a resounding masculine No! Yet his groin told him that it was a wild Yes! His cock was swelling again just at the thought of it.

Late last night, or, to be more realistic, early this morning, while the three of them lay around the Johnson home spent, sated and exhausted, Jeff found the hashish wearing off, yet just enough of it remained to let his tongue wag and he had asked questions which seemed to come up. And the Johnsons had answered in their almost too casual way. Yes, their relationship was different from that of most married couples, but not as different as he might think. There were other couples, couples that they knew, who behaved more or less like them. They belonged to a group they called "The Cub." It was a group of young, successful, attractive couples who met periodically and had an orgy. "We can't have them too often," Rick explained with a yawn, "The members live all over the country, and believe me, after one of our meetings, you won't want to have another for a while."

Carol had stretched her lovely body. "Mmmmmmm. Once we drew straws. The girl that got the short straw was fair game for all the men." She had looked at Jeff with a languid gaze and evil smile. "I got the short straw and ten men were fucking me." There was a smirking pause. "Ten men and two of the women."

"That was in direct violation of the rules," Rick laughed.

"Take it up with the steering committee," Carol said in a bored tone.

After more insistent questioning by Jeff, Rick sat up and said, "Okay, I know what you're after. Here it is. We got into this thing by accident. After we first got into it, we were skating on thin ice until we came to an understanding. The understanding is this: I love my wife and she loves me. Neither of us will do anything without the other's full knowledge and consent. No hanky-panky and little 'affairs' on the side. No jealousies, either. The result is we trust one another and our love for each other is greater now than it ever was before."

Jeff looked down at his shoes, not wanting to comment on Rick's statements.

Carol looked at him with a sleepy look bordering on disgust. She shifted her lovely body and stretched, long and lovely, utterly naked, not even attempting to hide her secret loveliness. "God, Jeff, you're so obvious!"

He looked at her in surprise. "Huh? Obvious about what?"

"About us. I can see that little middle class mind of yours turning over. You think we're crazy or depraved or immoral or a combination of all those things. Yet take a good look at yourself. You're here. You answered an ad and you're here and you enjoyed yourself. You had your kicks and now you want to slip back to your comfortable dull life with your bitch of a cold-blooded wife and live in miserable comfort and security and damn people like us." Anger flashed in her blue eyes and her nostrils flared, her red hair in wild disarray. "Well, just remember one thing. Nobody forced you into this situation. You could and can still just walk away. You got what you came after and more. So crawl off and damn us, but don't forget, nobody made you do what you did. You wanted to do it! And what anybody wants to do is what they're really like!"

"And don't forget another thing," Rick said, pointing an accusing finger. "We were honest with you all the way. We never held anything back from you. It was you and you alone who came here with lies and tried to get something for nothing. Now, considering that we all wanted the same thing and you were the only one who lied, what does that make you?"

An exhausted, sullen anger flared in Jeff. "That's not true!" he said defiantly, knowing in his heart that what they had just said was only too true. Close to tears, he held his hands out and said, "It's just all new and so... different to me. I never dreamed of people like you or situations like this. I don't know how to act. I don't know the rules."

A weary silence hung heavy in the room, with Rick and Carol exchanging a long meaningful glance. "He's right," Carol finally said. She got up and came over, touching him gently on the shoulder. "It is new to you and you don't know the rules and I must seem like some kind of slut"

"I never thoughtJeff interrupted, protesting, only to be shushed by Carol.

"Well, I am a slut. I had a ball tonight. I am what I am and my husband loves me. He is what he is and I love him. If you should ever try if any guy should ever try to make a pass at me, sneak a little on the side, I'd slap him in the face and Rick would tear him apart with his bare hands and I'd help. I'm a slut and an exhibitionist. I'm bisexual and Ricky enjoys seeing me be what I am because he is what he is." She moved away, back toward her husband, stretching and yawning again. "And right now I'm a very tired and satisfied exhibitionistic slut and I want to go to bed."

She turned by the door, provocative, sensual, standing framed by the doorway, hands on her naked hips, her pelvis thrust out. "The thing is, Mr. Jeff Haines, you have to come to terms with yourself. You have to decide what it is you want to be or, rather, just what it is that you really are."

And Jeff paced his office, weary, irritated, their words burning in his mind. In the short space of twenty-four hours, his life had turned topsy-turvy. Up was down and wrong was right. He had to admit that he was very lucky. Men have been shot and hung for doing less than he had done last night. If Anne knew or suspected, she would have every right in the world to divorce him.

He was rapidly developing a sick headache as his mind and emotions reeled back and forth. Much of what the Johnsons said had the implacable ring of truth about it. In one way, they were courageous people; in another way, they were perilously close to insanity. And he was being tortured. What was right? Who was right? Jibing taunts of theirsabout leading a dull and miserable lifewere true. He was bored and frustrated by his life with Anne. He felt they were going nowhere but down into a cushy life of deadly respectability. It wasn't that he minded church; he wouldn't mind anything if he could have some loving on the side.

Love. Sex. He sat down and lit a cigarette and forced himself to think. Could he ever again enjoy the kind of sex he might expect from Anne? The two of them alone and in bed, the lights out, Anne stiff and undemonstrative, and the whole thing over almost before it began? He made a fist and slammed it down on the desk. There was weak point in the Johnson argument: normal sex paled after a night of debauchery. The Johnsons were constantly seeking new thrillsso much so that they had to advertise. What would their lives be like in a year? Two years? What kind of "kicks" would they be seeking then? What would be next after Bruno? A horse? An elephant?

Despite himself, he laughed at the thought of Rick leading an elephant into their playroom. Again his mind turned a hundred and eighty degrees and he asked himself: just what is so-called "normal" sex? Was Anne normal about sex? Was Carol? Rick? Was he, Jeff, normal about sex?

He felt that he needed help, that there had to be someone he could turn to and unburden his heart and discover some sort of way or solution to the dilemma he found himself in. Yet there was no one he could think of. One moment he found himself wanting to do an obscene thing and deliver his wife up as some kind of lewd sacrifice; the next moment he found himself revolted by his desires and thoughts and the whole idea of doing such a thing. A man just didn't act that way toward his wife, the woman that he loved. No, he decided, no matter what they say, no matter how convincing their arguments, there was still something basically wrong with the way they lived.

Yet, his head throbbing from lack of sleep and the physical exhaustion of the night before combined with the emotional and moral upheaval in his mind and heart, he knew, deep down, basically, that he wanted to go back to the Johnsons'. He wanted to go back and wallow in depravity. He wanted more than anything to go back and watch and participate in their obscene and vile orgies. He wanted to feel that wild sadistic pleasure and go beyond the point of caring and indulge himself in any and every kind of sexual pleasure.

In truth, he knew that he loved to watch a woman be humiliated. And, deep in his groin, he knew that women liked that kind of thing. Carol was not alone. Anne, except for her upbringing and ideals, was the very same way. Yet he couldn't see any way of changing her.

And did he want to change her? Would he want to lead a life married to such a woman as Carol Johnson?

He groaned and held his head in his hands. Here I go again, he thought. He rummaged through the drawers of his desk, looking for aspirin, anything to ease his pounding head. "Oh God," he said aloud, "What a fix I'm in. Isn't there any way out?"

As if by answer, the phone on his desk began ringing politely. He picked it up. "Hello? Jeff Haines. Can I help you?"

"You sure can, Jeff." There was no mistaking the voice coming across the line. It was Carol's voice, low and sweet and husky, and a flood of memories rushed over him and he could almost smell her and he could certainly see her in his mind's eye.

"Carol?"

Her laughter came pealing through the phone. "No, it's Billy Graham. How are you feeling?" "All right. Okay. You?"

"Just great. Had a nice long sleep and woke up and was lying here thinking of you and last night. Mmmmmm. Have a good time?"

"Yeah."

"That all you got to say? How did your wife, Anne, take it? I mean, your staggering home at the crack of dawn all fucked out?"

"She was asleep. Didn't know what time I got home. Everything worked out fine."

"Luck of the Irish."

"Yeah, except I'm not Irish."

"Don't confuse me with details. Mmmmm, Jeff, I was lying here, naked, thinking of you and getting all hot and bothered again, and then I remembered something," she said, her voice going low and serious.

"What?" he asked, his voice dropping also as he tried to hide his apprehension.

"I was thinking back to the first time Rick and I cut loose and all the guilt and doubt we felt, all the unnecessary torment we put ourselves through. Then I thought or realized that it was entirely possible that you are going through the same thing."

Jeff took a deep breath, then let it all out in a gush. "I am," he said, his voice betraying his inner despair. "I am. I'm confused."

"I know," Carol's voice purred in his ear, full of sympathy and sexuality at the same time. "You'll get over it. Honest. I swear."

"It doesn't seem right and yet it does. Supposing somebody finds out?"

"Supposing they do?" Carol asked, an edge of impatience in her tone.

"I've got my job and future to think about."

"Your job?" Carol asked scornfully. "What do you do? You work for a fund raiser. Supposing I were to tell you that I've gone to bed with Judd Phillips?"

Jeff knew the name. Judd Phillips ran the biggest and most successful fund raising outfit on the West Coast. Judd was the wonder boy of the business.

"Supposing," Carol went on, "I told you I fucked him while Rick fucked his wife. Would you believe me?" "Well, yeah, why not?" he said, bewildered.

"Listen, when Rick and I got married, he was nothing but a little A.D., an assistant director. Do you know what an assistant director makes? Do you know what he does on TV? He's a gofer."

"Go-fer?" he asked, not understanding.

"Yes. Go-fer coffee, go-fer cigarettes, go-fer the airport to pick up some star's luggage. It's a nothing job. When we started swapping, we got to meet people. Don't get me wrong. Rick didn't get where he is by peddling my ass all over town. He got where he is because he's talented, and when the doors were opened to him he was ready."

Jeff played with paper clips on his desk. The possibilities were apparent to him and the temptation was great. He sat silent, listening to her breathing on the other end of the wire and wanting to fuck her again. Crazy or not, she was a fantastic lay. "Fantastic," he finally said.

"No, not fantastic, just the normal course of events. Fuck a person and you get to know them. Like I know you."

"Huh?"

"I wish you'd stop saying that. Huh. Sounds so like a stupid schoolboy. Look, I know you and I know you undersell yourself and you're bothered by all sorts of things that shouldn't bother you."

His face twisted. "I'm confused. I don't know what to do."

"Well, I'll tell you what to do, and you do just as I tell you." Her voice was husky and vibrant again and he felt chills running up and down his spine. "Your wife doesn't suspect anything?"

"No."

"Did you tell her about us?"

"Yes."

"What did you say?"

"What you and Rick told me to say. I just mentioned you, that's all."

"Good," she said with satisfaction. "Now I'm going to tell you what to do. You go home and be loving to your wife and eat a good dinner and have a nice long hot shower and go to bed. Act natural and don't be nervous about anything she might say about us."

"What's she going to say?" he asked, wary again.

"Never mind, you'll find out. One more thing. You said she was religious, right?"

"Right."

"Good. 'Bye now. Mmmmmm. We can't wait." There was a click in his ear as Carol hung up, and he sat holding the phone, blinking. To his amazement, his headache had cleared up.

CHAPTER SIX

When Jeff got home, he was greeted at the door by Anne. For the first time in months, he saw her eyes aglow and a bright color in her cheeks. Before he could say a word, she happily informed him that she had gotten a call from Carol Johnson.

If he looked surprised, it was because he was amazed. He had suspected Carol would do something, but knowing her as he did, he hadn't the foggiest notion of what she would do. She certainly wasn't lacking in audacity.

"You didn't tell me what she was like," Anne said, pretending to pout.

"Huh? Sure, sure I did."

Anne laughed. "I mean, you didn't give me any details about her, Or her husband, Rick."

Trying to feign indifference, he picked up the evening paper and started leafing through it. "Oh? Well, what did she say?"

"Oh, we talked for a long time. She's so nice. You didn't tell me they were like us." Anne sat facing him, demure, pulling her skirt down.

Jeff raised his eyebrows. "Like us? They're like us? She said that?"

"You know," Anne said, being coy. Jeff looked at her carefully. So much that was amazing had happened to him lately, he wouldn't be the least surprised if Carol had told Anne the truth and Anne had agreed and liked the idea of an orgy! No, he thought, rubbing his eyes, No, it couldn't be. He calmed himself and smiled at his wife through bleary eyes. He was exhausted, yet trying to appear calm. "Well, I don't know. What did she say?"

"That they were like us, that they had difficulty finding friends that they truly liked. And, oh, we talked, and we have so much in common. She grew up in a very religious family and we talked a long while about that." She jumped up and crossed the room and kissed him on the cheek, putting her arms around him. "I'm so glad you met themshe seems so nice. They invited us over for dinner this Friday night. I told her I thought it was all right with you. Is it?"

"Huh? Friday? Friday night, huh? Sure, sure, it's fine with me."

Anne patted him on the arm and said, "I'll call her tomorrow and tell her."

Jeff hid behind the newspaper and tried hard to pretend he was reading it while his heart pounded against his rib cage and he thought: Friday night. I just agreed to Friday night and I'll be delivering my wife to the Johnsons. Friday night. Carol and Rick. Am I going to do it?

Despite his fatigue, he knew he was going to do it. It roared in his mind and churned in his groin. Forbidden fruit. Having tasted once, he had to taste again. And this time the fruit would be all the wilder and sweeter!

He ate his dinner, making polite conversation about his work and Anne's day, and wondered with her what she should wear to dinner at the Johnsons'. At one point he repressed an insane desire to laugh and tell her it didn't matter what she wore, since she wouldn't be wearing anything very long after she got there. But he didn't. He talked and smiled and, after watching TV with heavy-lidded eyes for what he thought was an appropriate length of time, yawned and announced he was going to bed.

Anne agreed, and they went through their nightly ritual, using the bathroom one at a time, and went to bed. Despite his weariness, Jeff found he couldn't sleep. It was all going to happen. On Friday night, it would all happen. He tried not to think of it, yet couldn't think of anything else. Visions of Anne naked, electrifying visions of all four of them naked and fucking, burned in his mind like a bank of neon lights.

Nature took its course and, despite his throbbing erection, he drifted off into a restless sleep. Despite all that Carol and Rick had said, despite all their convincing, something was wrong. Some little thing. What was it? He tried to grasp the clue but he felt as if he was on a merry-go-round, whirling in the dark, frantically groping for the brass ring and not having any idea where it was. He finally gave up with a ragged sigh and sank into deep dark sleep.

It nagged at him all the next day and night. Whatever was bothering him, he couldn't put his finger on it.

That night, at home, he again hurried out of his clothing and tiptoed to the door and peered through the crack.

He was hotter and hornier than he had ever been. Since that night at the Johnsons', he found that sex was constantly on his mind. He found that he was now skipping eating lunch and spending his lunch hour searching out liquor stores that sold girlie magazines. He looked at nudist magazines until his mind reeled and his groin ached. He also found himself looking at women and girls with an entirely different attitude. There was one eighteen-year-old in the typing pool who was known as the office flirt. She had a good figure and really threw it around. He would sit in his office with the door open and watch her and daydream about taking her and introducing her to the Johnsons. Why not? He would shake himself from his lewd daydream and turn back to his work. It seemed to him that he had an erection most of his waking hours.

The Johnsons had exposed a side of him that he had never dared think much about. Now that this Mr. Hyde side of his personality was exposed, he didn't quite know what to make of it. And he was troubled. Something was wrong.

He was troubled as he peeked through the crack of the bathroom door and watched his wife undress. His cock jerked as he watched her standing naked in stockings, unsnapping her garter belt. Her flesh, her buttocks and groin were bracketed by sheer cloth that only called attention to her nakedness rather than hiding it. And as she bent over the basin and lathered her face with soap, he thrilled to the way her large breasts shook from side to side. As he watched, he could see her arms rub against her nipples, which instantly grew tense and pointed. Her buttocks quivered enticingly as she bent over and scrubbed hard. As she bent, he could see just the beginnings of her vagina and the deep tight fold of her vulva lips. He found himself standing with his iron-hard cock in his hand, wishing she would bend over just a little more.

As if by ESP, Anne bent forward farther, spreading her legs slightly as she rinsed her face. Jeff practically flattened his face against the door frame to see his wife's vagina. There it was, the rich soft vaginal lips, rounded and covered with blonde pubic hair, neatly framed between her lovely buttocks that were like twin globes of warm flesh that he wanted to seize and violate. Between her vaginal lips was the tight dark mystery-slit of her cunt. His mouth practically watered as he imagined that slit all fluted and ragged, spread wide with her red moist cunt twitching as if it had a life of its own.

Anne began toweling her face, and he hastily retreated to his bedside, pulling on the tops of his pajamas. Soon, he told himself, soon.

And it was soon. Too soon. Friday night rolled around with Anne dressing and yakking away about the Johnsons. During the week she had had many conversations with Carol, and now regarded her as a dear friend. Jeff dressed as if in a trance. He tried to be polite and offhand, yet he was nervous and his fingers trembled and wouldn't respond when he tried to tie his shoes.

Finally dressed, with Anne in the bathroom, putting the finishing touches on her makeup, he looked at himself in the full-length, closet-door mirror. He stood there, a young man, good-looking. If you were to see him on the street, he would look like a nice normal young man with a good build. The kind of guy most mothers would want their daughters to date and perhaps marry. Yet here he was, Jeff Haines, about to take his wife to the house of a married couple for the purposes of seduction and depravity.

He stood looking at himself, frightened. How were they going to do it? They seemed so sure, but supposing it didn't work? And supposing it did? What then? He was frightened, yet he was excited. A driving need in him propelled him on. His feelings about Anne, sex, all people, had undergone an immense transformation since that one evening at the Johnsons'. Although, he hadn't yet assimilated and made coherent all those feelings, he had changed. He would go ahead with what seemed like certain disaster, trusting his drive and need more than reason and logic.

Still some little thing nagged at him. He had tried to think of it all week long and the thing, the thought that was so elusive, was like a carrot on a stick, forever dangled in front of his nose, but never quite reached.

It wasn't until they were halfway to the Johnsons', driving on the freeway before he thought of it. The answer was so simple and direct, so in front of him that he had overlooked it, thinking there must be something more complicated. The answer was there: Carol had lied to Anne! The whole dinner was a pretext, a trick! And wasn't it Carol who had made such a production about being honest, claiming he was the liar?

No matter what they said, no matter how much their arguments had battered down his resistance and left him befuddled and ashamed of his lying, they were now lying! If they could lie to Anne, they could lie to him. It could be they were doing nothing else than using both of them for their own obscene purposes.

It was with the greatest anxiety of his life that he "pretended" to find the Johnson home and pull up in their driveway. He turned the ignition off, put on the emergency brake, and turned to his wife, his face blank, the scalp on his head Dulling tight as a snare drum. His hand was still on the ignition as he asked, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Anne's pretty frown was teasing. "Of course. Jeff, is there something wrong?"

His lips actually fluttered as he had the impulse to tell her everything, spill the whole thing out right there and take the consequences and live with himself. But he couldn't. Instead, he said, "Huh? No. Been a tough week, that's all. Ready?"

They walked to the door together with Jeff like a taut wire, ready to snap and fly off in all directions. He touched the button for the bell as if it were a detonator on a boobytrap bomb. Chimes rang, and then they stood in nervous silence. There was a rapid click of heels inside, and the door flew open, and there stood a smiling Carol Johnson. Behind her, walking toward the door through the foyer, was a beaming Rick. "And you're Anne!" Carol cried. "Welcome to our home!"

Anne entered while Jeff had trouble keeping his mouth from hanging open. He entered the house slowly, looking around. It was the same tastefully and expensively furnished house as before with its share of modern art and fine oiled Danish-modern furniture, but the residents, Rick and Carol, were impostors. Before him was Carol, offering her hand, saying, "Jeff, it's so good to see you again. And I must say Anne is certainly prettier than you painted her."

"Huh? Oh, yeah."

Rick came forward, giving Jeff a firm handshake and saying, "Good to see you again, Jeff. How's it going?"

Earlier, when Anne had dressed, he had watcher her and thought of how out of place she would look with Carol. She was wearing a blue cocktail dress that was more than modest, it was almost middle-aged. He had never liked the outfit because it made Anne look dumpy almost and he could just see her next to Carol who would probably be wearing some crazy thing that clung to her, revealing more than it hid. She wasn't. Jeff looked at her in disbelief. She was wearing a loose fuzzy sweater, a tweed skirt that came down to her knees, and loafers. Loafers! Jeff almost spurted. Rick was dressed in a pair of black slacks, a white shirt, and dark tie. Only a knowing wink that he slipped Jeff when the women weren't looking told the truth.

They walked through the house with the women yakking and Rick acting like a perfect host, asking about Jeff's job and commenting on his own and making small talk about the weather.

"And this," Carol said with a wave of her hand, "is the bar. It's also our game room and we sometimes watch TV here while we have an evening cocktail. Do you watch TV much?" she asked Anne cordially.

Anne smiled shyly. "No, I'm afraid we don't. Just the news and some specials if they look like they're going to be interesting."

"Aren't you lucky?" Carol said, the perfect Westchester matron. "We have to watch it because Rick's in television. I agree with you, most of the programs are boring."

"Television?" Anne said, raising her eyebrows and turning to smile at Rick. "That must be interesting." Rick leveled a friendly smile at her. "Sometimes. Lot of problems involved in getting a projection off the ground."

Yeah, Jeff thought, and into bed too.

"How about a cocktail before supper? Rick has a wonderful concoction he makes. Jeff?" Carol asked, poised and smiling.

"Huh? Sure." He couldn't quite believe Carol. She was some actress. Even the throaty voice was gone with only an attractive hint of it left.

"Anne, would you like one?" Rick asked with all the politeness and gravity of a head waiter at the Plaza. "Just one, a weak one. One is my limit."

Rick rubbed his hands together as he disappeared behind the bar. "Leave it to me. Wait until you've tasted it."

"What is it?" Anne asked, walking toward the bar to see what he was doing as he marshaled bottles, ice and a shaker.

"It's called a Fonder."

"Fonder?" Anne knitted her brows and cocked her head quizzically. "Like Fonda? Henry Fonda?"

Rick gave her a warm smile as he bent to his task. "No, fonder. As in," and he paused to give Jeff a knowing glance, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder."

Jeff got his message and his heart beat faster. He recognized the unlabeled bottle Rick was pouring from. He felt exactly like a paratrooper, a raw rookie, standing at the open door of a plane and about to jump into eternity.

"Let's sit at the bar like we're a bunch of old boozers," Carol said, swinging onto a barstool, the very same barstool she had sat on before.

Anne giggled and sat next to her. "First time in my life I've ever been on a barstool. Whenever we go to a bar, which isn't often, Jeff makes me sit in a booth. He doesn't like to see women sitting at a bar."

Carol's composure cracked for the first time all evening. Her eyes crinkled and she bit her lower lip to keep from laughing. Like hell he doesn't, she wanted to say. Instead, she agreed. "Rick's the same way. Actually, I have to agree with him and Jeff. I hate to see a woman sitting at a bar by herself."

"Me too," Anne agreed.

"Still, I don't mind doing it at home. After all, it is private here and it is kind of fun. Kind of naughty." Anne giggled and nodded her head.

"Sometimes, just for the fun of it, I sit here with a cigarette and a drink and pretend I'm a prostitute or a loose woman," Carol said, her eyes all wide and innocent.

Anne went into gales of laughter, hiding her face behind her hands. Jeff got a coughing fit and Rick broke into a broad smile as he poured the drinks. "The way women act," he said, shaking his head.

"It's true!" Carol protested. "Honest! I do it, but only with my husband."

"Here we are, ladies," Rick said, setting cocktail glasses in front of them and handing one to Jeff. Taking up his own glass, he held it up, proposing a toast. "Here's to an interesting and rewarding evening for all of us."

They all drank, Jeff and Rick draining their glasses and Carol and Anne sipping theirs. Anne smacked her lips and said, "My, that tastes good. What is it?"

"A Fonder."

Again Anne laughed. She was getting to like Rick. He was so handsome and virile and certainly charming. "No, I mean, what's in it?"

Rick wagged a finger. "It isn't fair to ask a bartender his secrets, it's only fair to enjoy them. Drink up." Anne drank again. "It's sweet and warm going down. I like this."

"Here," Rick said, picking up the shaker, "let me top your drink off."

Anne tried to demure. "Oh, I don't want to get drunk."

"Drunk?" Carol said, shrugging. "These are mild. I could have half a dozen and not feel a thing." "They are good. They taste so strange," Anne said, sipping her drink.

"Kind of feels good all the way down, doesn't it?" Carol suggested. "All the way down into the pit of your stomach."

"I'll say," Anne answered, squirming on her stool and turning to look at her husband. "Does it have the same effect on you?"

Jeff slid onto a stool next to her. "I'll say. Let's have another," he said to Rick with a boldness. It might have been the association, the memories of having drunk absinthe only a short week ago, it might have only been that and nothing more, but Jeff was beginning to feel a distinct sexual feeling already. Rick must have made the drinks extra strong, he reasoned. Deep down in him he was beginning to feel an itch combined with a syrupy looseness and a desire to talk smutty. And, the way Anne was shifting on the stool, the way she tried to hide the movement, he could tell she was beginning to feel something, too.

"So," Jeff said, fingering his glass, "tell me more about how you feel when you sit at the bar."

Carol leaned around Anne. "Oh, it's nothing really. Just, sometimes I've wondered what it must be like to be a prostitute. Have you ever wondered about that?" she asked, turning to Anne.

Anne mused on the thought and slowly felt her face splitting in a smile. "Yes, I have. I've wondered what kind of women do such a thing and, yes," she added with a little giggle, "I've wondered what it would be like."

"Exactly," Carol said. "Every women wonders." Turning to Anne, she said, "Listen, enough of these things and maybe we'll put on a show for our husbands. Pretend we're a couple of women out on the town."

Anne giggled and fought for self-control. "I don't know what's getting into me. What's in these drinks?" she asked in a confused way. "I feel so strange."

"Nothing that will do you any harm," Rick said, holding the shaker over her glass.

"No, no more for me. I've had enough."

"But, there's only a little left and we're way ahead of you," he protested.

Anne relented, fanning her face. She looked around at the others and wondered if they were feeling the way she was. For the first time since she had had too much champagne on their wedding night, she was feeling sexy. A lubricated itching was deep in her vagina, an itching that was growing more intense by the minute, and the more she furtively moved on the stool the more intense the feeling became. She hooked the heel of her shoe in the stool rung and squeezed her knees tight together until she felt a tingling sensation in her crotch and one corner of her panty band slipped and a vaginal lip slowly bulged out. It felt strange and... good.

But the itching would not go away and her head was feeling strangely giddy. She could hear everything and respond to conversation, but she felt as if something was slipping away. And things that Carol was saying was making her giggle uncontrollably. They were smutty things, but funny.

She drained her glass and only mildly protested as Rick refilled it, taking advantage of the distraction to squirm forward on the barstool, wedging the band of her panties into the crack of her vagina. It felt so good, so warm and... moist.

They laughed and drank and she watched Carol as she did an imitation of what she thought a prostitute would be like, lowering her eyes and smiling over her shoulder at Jeff while they all laughed.

"Let's see you do it, Anne," Carol said. "Go on. Pretend Rick is a potential customer."

"Oh, I couldn't!"

"Oh, come on, it's all in fun. No harm in it."

"No," Anne said, shaking her head and her face turning a slow crimson. "I couldn't do a thing like that." Rick pretended to be hurt. "What's the matter with me? Something wrong with me?"

"Oh, no!" Anne said. "It's just that... well... I've never done a thing like that before."

"I should hope not!" Jeff said, and they all laughed.

"Come on," they all urged. "What's so wrong with that? It's all in fun."

Anne smiled embarrassedly down at her drink. How did all this get started, she wondered. They were all such nice people and it was a lovely house and why not, why not just do it? After all, it was only in fun. An excited feeling seemed to shoot through her body and she could feel her vaginal lips swelling around the now wedged band of her panties which was pressing on the slit of her cunt and beginning to rub against her clitoris. She crossed her legs and squeezed them tight and felt another thrill course through her body. It was a thrill so powerful and dark that it frightened her. "All right," she said, not lifting her eyes. "Just in fun."

The room was silent and still with Anne staring down at her drink. She drank once more, then lifted her eyes to see Rick leaning on the bar, staring back at her with a serious look in his eyes. She gave him a slow provocative smile with her eyes half closed, and shocked herself by letting her mouth open just a little bit and the tip of her tongue lick out and wet her lips.

They all broke into laughter and began applauding her as she hid her face in her hands and squealed, "I don't know why I'm behaving this way!"

"Listen, if you were a hooker, you would've made me," Rick said.

"Let's have another round," Carol said. "The party is getting interesting."

"No. No more for me. I've had too much already," Anne protested, pushing away from the bar. She couldn't look at Rick. Something had happened when she had smiled at him as if she were a prostitute on the make. For a split second, she was on the make. It was the first time in her life she had done such a thing. For one wild moment she saw Rick Johnson as an extremely handsome man, and she wanted him. She wanted him in a physical way. She was shaken, and all of them could tell by her tone that she wouldn't have anything more to drink.

"I think we've had enough of the happy hour," Carol said, slipping off the stool. "Dinner isn't ready yet, but why don't we get more comfortable?" She led the way to the couch and chairs, and Anne sat in the very chair over which Rick had so obscenely fucked Carol while she sucked Jeff's cock.

Carol left the room, heading for the kitchen, and Anne found herself looking at Rick as he and Jeff talked. He was tall and heavy, and it looked as if he had a very powerful physique, and she found herself wondering what kind of penis he had. She silently chided herself. It wasn't like her to think that way.

It was that itching deep in her groin. It was growing, and she thought of excusing herself, going to the bathroom, and relieving it in some way. Yet how? Stick something up there? Her face turned scarlet again as she thought of what she could do, and she longed for the night to be over so she could get home with Jeff. She sat back in the chair, twisting her hips ever so slightly, wedging the tight band of her panties even deeper into her crotch. She could feel its moistness now and knew she was making the panties damp. Still, it felt good, relieving her for a moment. But no sooner did she stop than the feeling was on her again, more demanding then before.

Carol came back from the kitchen carrying a plate full of some kind of sweets. "This will keep us from starving until dinner is ready." She held the plate in front of Anne.

"What are they?"

"Some candies we had flown in from Egypt. Rick was over there on location for a picture and he tasted some. They were so good, we decided to have some flown in. Try one," Carol urged.

Anne selected one and looked at it closely. It was a darkish brown square that looked like molasses or a kind of maple sugar. She took a bite and found the taste intriguing. It was a musky flavor, strong and piercingly sweet. There was a grainy taste, too, as if something, some kind of fruit or vegetable, had been ground up in the candy.

They sat eating them in silence. Anne looked at her husband then at Rick. They seemed to be exchanging a look of some kind of mutual understanding, and the room seemed uncomfortably quiet. "That's very good," she said, looking at Rick and trying to hide her interest. "What do they call it?"

Rick chewed and swallowed, picking up another candy. "It's some Arab name I can't pronounce, but, translated, it literally means a mixture, a kind of sweet hash or anything goes confection. They put all kinds of stuff in them. Each one is different. Here, try another." He held the plate out, and Anne took another and bit into it. It was different. It had a kind of smoky alcohol flavor.

After finishing the second piece, she had to sigh to catch her breath and, vaguely, she knew something was wrong. She looked around the room at her husband and at the Johnsons. They were all silent and smiling at her, and their eyes were shining abnormally. She looked around the room. It seemed different somehow. It was difficult to concentrate, and she looked back at Jeff, blinking. "What did you say?"

Jeff laughed, and the laugh didn't sound like him. "I didn't say anything."

"You didn't? Who did?"

All three of them laughed and said, "Maybe it was you!"

It all seemed very funny, and she laughed hard, rocking in her chair and unconsciously allowing her dress to slip above her knees. She finally got control of herself and stopped laughing long enough to realize that the itching had gone. In its place was a hot wet feeling. Under her dress, her cunt was split wide open now and had wet the band of her panties. Her groin was hot and it was suddenly hot in the room.

"What were we talking about?" she asked.

"I don't remember," Carol said, her voice getting husky and vague. "Oh! I was going to tell you! Rick got a smoker film today!"

"Smoker?" Anne asked, her tongue thick and her eyes half closed.

"A stag film. Couples having sex. You know."

"I've never seen one," Jeff said.

"A stag film? You mean... a... dirty picture?" Anne asked.

"Yes! Have you ever seen one?" Carol asked with a kind of unfocussed enthusiasm.

"No, no, I haven't. I don't think I want to," Anne said stiffly.

"Carol, for God's sake," Rick said, shifting on the couch. "Explain the whole thing. You're making me look like some kind of monster." He sat up and smiled at Anne. "We found this kid down at the studio with this film, see? He works for usor, rather, he did until we discovered him with this film. He was using our laboratory and equipment to process the film and we caught him and fired him. Until we know what to do with the film, I'm to keep it. I didn't want to keep it at work so I brought it home and made the mistake of telling old blabbermouth here."

"But I want to see it and he won't let me," Carol said with a pout.

"Nothing doing," Rick said. "If Jeff wants to see it, okay, I'll run it for him, but not for you two." "Have you ever seen one?" Carol asked Anne.

"No. No, of course not."

"Haven't you ever been just a little bit curious?" Carol asked, an impish look in her eyes. "Like when you wondered what prostitutes are like?"

"That's different," Anne said.

"How?" Carol was becoming more animated, more like her old self, her voice lowering as her eyes glazed over. She handed Anne another piece of candy.

"I... I don't know," Anne said, her voice going vague. She had to concentrate to remember what it was she was voicing doubt about. She bit into the candy and smacked her lips over its sweetness. "I... I... couldn't." "Well, I want to and I'm going to. You can go out to the living room or kitchen while we all watch." "Oh, no, none of that," Rick said. "Just me and Jeff, that's all."

"Listen, Mr. Johnson," Carol said, flaring, and Jeff again saw the Carol he had fucked and who had sucked his cock in such a greedy, voracious way. Her politeness was dropping away to be replaced by that wild sluttishness of hers. "This is my house as much as yours, and don't be telling me to take a powder. I have as much right to see that film as anyone else. Don't be making rules without consulting or even considering me. I will not be treated like a servant or some second class citizen."

Rick looked at her and laughed. "Okay, if you feel that strongly about it, what do you suggest?"

"Well, how about if the women watch it for a change while the men go play cards or drink coffee? Have you ever thought about what it is like to be excluded? Try it. Let the women watch while the men sit it out."

Rick looked at Jeff then at Anne. "Okay. I don't mind. Since you're being so fair, don't you think you should ask your guests? I mean, they might not want to see it. Anne, I think, isn't sophisticated enough for a thing like that."

Anne sat in a lulling stupor, feeling her groin pulsating with pleasure, making her want to do a thing to herself she hadn't done in years; she wanted to go off somewhere and strip naked and put her fingers and hands on her vagina and caress herself. However, Rick's words and tone shot through her reverie like a cannonball through a wall of butter. The words stung deep, and she shot a glance at him. She had thought he was nice. She had liked him, been attracted to him, and now he was condescending to her in the rudest way. Her vanity made her jut her pert jaw and say, "Nobody asked me, but I'd like to see this film with Carol."

Rick shrugged and looked at Jeff questioningly. "It's all right with me. How about you?"

"Huh? Sure, fine."

"Okay, it's settled. Us boys will go to the kitchen and peel potatoes while you girls live it up. Want me to set up the screen and projector or do you feel sufficiently emancipated to do it yourself?"

Carol was flippant and flirting, her voice low and easy as she said, "You could be a gentleman and set the stag up for the girls."

Anne giggled nervously. The situation was out of hand and she couldn't even remember when or how it started getting out of hand. She put her hand to her head, hiding her eyes. Surely those drinks were more powerful than she had thought. Here she was, bluffed, bewildered, finding herself bristling at words and talking herself into watching a sex film. She didn't want to watch the filmand yet, she did. She did! Something in her was sliding away; something in the back of her mind was asking: what is wrong with seeing it just once?

She couldn't concentrate her thoughts long enough to think of an answer one way or another, for she was constantly aware of a growing feeling spreading all through her body. An energy, a demanding, a feeling of... lust! It was sweeping through her body, seeming to center in her groin in an aching way that felt so very, very good and to spread out into her arms and thighs and legs and make her feel warm all over. Why not see the film? It was as if a small voice were whispering in her ear, an inner ear and a voice that only she could hear, and it seemed as if she were hearing it quite clearly now as the words sounded in her brain and mingled with the feeling in her body and heightened it still more. After all, the voice went on, it will be all right so long as the men aren't here, too. She turned her head and smiled at Carol, who was looking at her intently. Carol's look, the dim lights suddenly around them and the feelingthat yammering overriding feeling made her pump her hips ever so slightly and she felt the tight band of her panties rub against her clitoris.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jeff sat like a statue while Rick wandered around, seeming slow and befuddled but making progress, setting up the screen in front of the couch, putting up the projector and threading the film into place, then going behind the bar where he worked with some equipment out of sight, dimming the lights and bringing in soft stereo music. Jeff sat listening to the music that seemed to go forever. Again things seemed as if they were happening in a living dream. Time was suspended and he watched his wife and Carol on the couch. Carol was kneeling with one knee on the couch, offering Anne still more of the hashish-laced candy.

Anne was accepting as if she were in slow motion, all her concentration on selecting a piece from the plate, and all the time her hips moved slowly and so slightly it was barely perceptible. He watched her lovely hips twist and writhe and undulate under her dress and found his prick hardening as if it was turning to stone. They were actually doing it! It was going to happen!

His heart pounding, Jeff wanted to get up, to take his wife out of this place, to take her home and... what? Fuck her! Yes! He actually got up, walked to his wife, looked down at her munching on the candy and thought of fucking her right now while they watched. A shudder ran through his body and he knew that was what he not only wanted to do, it was what he was going to do.

Carol was watching him with an amused smile on her face as she put one hand on a hip and offered him the plate. Anne was oblivious to everything around her except for the candy, which she ate with concentration, her eyes glazed and unfocussed. Jeff took another candy and felt Rick's hand on his arm. He turned to see Rick grinning at him. "Come on, you've been standing staring at your wife for minutes. Later," he whispered.

Jeff allowed himself to be led away. His conscious mind was numbed and he couldn't think, only feel.

"We're going now. You know how to start that damn thing," Rick said, waving at the projector.

"Of course I do. 'Bye. Have a good time. We'll call you when we're through."

Jeff and Rick filed out the door, Rick leading the way in the semi-dark. The door closed with a click and Anne, hearing the sound, looked up. "Where did they go?"

"They'll think of something to do. Maybe watch TV." She sat down next to Anne and took her hand and held it. "Isn't this exciting? Just think, now we're going to know what men get all steamed up about."

Anne looked at the screen and remembered. "Yes, I've never seen one." She giggled and looked around. They were alone and a delicious sense of doing something forbidden came over her. She let her head fall back on the couch and smiled up at Carol, who was still holding her hand. "This is going to be fun."

Carol gave her hand a little squeeze. "Just you and me." Her hand reached out and touched Anne's cheek. "You've got such beautiful skin."

Anne blushed again and looked away.

"I'll lock the door so they can't get back in until we want them to and we can watch without fear of them bothering us. Aren't you excited? I wonder what it will be like?"

As Carol went over and locked the door, Anne tried to think about the film and what it would be like, and her brow knitted in a way she had when she was trying to concentrate. It was so hard to think, it was so hard to keep her hips and buttocks still. The feeling in her was growing, getting larger than life. She simply had to get some relief. A film, the Johnsons, Jeffnothing mattered as much as getting some relief from the feeling she had. Carol dimmed the lights even more and Anne looked down to see that her dress was well up above her knees. Darting a glance over her shoulder, she saw Carol bending over the projector, looking for the switch. Her hand snaked up her dress and to her crotch. She hooked one finger under the band of her panties and pulled them down, freeing herself. In so doing, her forefinger touched the excited, fluted edges of her vagina and wandered over her clitoris, and a deep lascivious thrill ran through her body. She gritted her teeth and pulled her hand out quickly as Carol snapped a switch and a cone of light stabbed across the room. She looked at the screen as the numerals 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and then an X appeared on the screen, and then a shot of what looked like a cheap motel room appeared.

It came into sharp focus as Carol adjusted the picture. Then she came and sat next to Anne on the couch, holding her hand and squeezing it. Without thinking, Anne squeezed back. A small dark-haired girl appeared on the screen, walking into camera range, reaching behind her and unclasping her dress. She stripped quickly, turning to look at a man who was half in the camera frame and also undressing.

Anne felt her breath coming heavily, and her palms were sweaty as the girl stripped quickly naked and the camera prowled over her body, focussing on her breasts, which were fine but not too big, and at her hips and then zoomed in for a close-up of her crotch and the beginning slit of her vagina.

Now the girl moved to the man and helped him get undressed. As his shirt came off, Anne could see tattoos on both his arms, and this excited her. Men with tattoos always excited her; they seemed so rough and crude. Then the girl was undoing his pants, unzipping them and pulling them down, kneeling as she did so. Then, naked, on her knees in front of the man, she pulled his jockey shorts down, and Anne gasped as she saw his cock and balls in a close-up. The man had half an erection and the girl seized it, her eyelids fluttering, and began to play with it. Arching her back, she ran the cock all over her breasts, then sank lower, running the rapidly inflating prick all over her neck and face. Then, opening her mouth, she let her tongue snake out and lick it. Anne took a sharp breath and squeezed Carol's hand and got a reassuring squeeze back.

The dark intense girl in the picture closed her eyes as if she were ecstatic, and as the camera came in for another close-up she opened her tips and the now rigid prick slid into her mouth and she sucked, her lips tightening around the shaft. Anne stiffened and Carol put an arm around her and hugged her reassuringly. She turned to see Carol's face right next to hers. They were so close she could smell her perfume. "Did you see that?" she asked in a whisper.

"Yes. Does that excite you?" Carol asked in that throaty suggestive whisper of hers.

"Yes. No. I... I don't know," Anne said. Her eyes darted back to the screen. The man was lying down on the bed, his legs hanging over one corner and spread apart as the girl was bending to her task, holding the prick in position with one hand while her head bobbed up and down and her lips slid the length of the man's cock, leaving it wet and glistening. As the two of them watched, the girl shifted her knees, spreading her legs as wide apart as possible. She had strong, well-formed thighs and her free hand was running up and down them now as her head bobbed faster and the man's hands and tattooed arms reached down and held her head in place while his hips began to pump obscenely and the girl's hand was running up and down the insides of her thighs and finally settled on her vagina which she began to caress.

Anne's mouth was open and dry as she stared, amazed, at the screen. The whole thing she was watching was obscene and lewd, depraved beyond belief. She couldn't believe that two people would behave that way in private, let alone in public for all to see. It was disgusting and fascinating and, as the girl began to pump and gyrate her own hips obscenely, it was exciting.

Such raw blatant obscene behavior was shocking and overpoweringly exciting. The feeling that had spread through her body and ignited her mind seemed to have been waiting for such an opportunity to really explode. She felt great waves of excitement and desire sweeping over her. Whether it was the heat of the room, the proximity of Carol or just her own excitement, she felt herself breaking out in a sweat and a droplet trickled down her stomach, snaked its way slowly through her pubic hair and found its way to her swollen and inflamed cunt.

Anne ground her buttocks down into the couch, trying desperately to rid herself of the torment. Her vagina was wet now and, as she twisted and moved, it felt terribly sensitive, arousing her even more. The more she was aroused, the better it felt, and she sat staring at the screen with a glazed look, grinding her hips down into the couch while Carol had her arm around her shoulders and was squeezing her land.

"What's the matter?"

Anne laughed embarrassedly. "Nothing. Just... that... what they're doing."

Carol was looking at her, only nodding toward the screen. "It excites you, doesn't it?"

Dumbly Anne nodded as she saw the arms pull the girl's head away from the rampant cock and the girl climb eagerly on top of the man, straddling his body in a kneeling position as the camera panned around to catch her fanning naked buttocks in a close-up. Anne saw her tight puckered anus and her cunt with its lips parted as the girl's hand came down and gripped the man's prick and guided it to where she rubbed it up and down the length of her slit and the mushroom head glistened with her cunt juice.

Anne was twisting in her seat more and more as she felt moans and groans of frustration and desire building in her throat. With a suddenness that startled her, Carol jumped up and went to the machine and turned it off. Anne sat up, staring at her. "Something wrong?"

With a throaty chuckle, Carol came back to the couch. "Plenty. I never realized it, but this stuff is exciting. It's so hot in here and I'm so uncomfortable, I want to take off some clothes before we go on. You're uncomfortable, too. Why don't you take some things off. That dress must be hot."

"Do you think we dare?" Anne said, darting a look at the door.

"It's locked. They can't get in. If they knock, I'll just tell them we're not ready and to come back later." She pulled her sweater off over her head and stood in a black half bra that made her breasts billow out and revealed the half moons of her nipples. Quickly she stepped out of her tweed skirt and stood in black bikini panties that were little more than a G-string. Anne hesitated, trying to think. Yet to see so much of Carol's milky white flesh framed by her panties, bra and red hair was as exciting, in its own way, as the film. Obscenity, nudity, was on her mind. Before she could summon her thoughts, Carol was kneeling in front of her, saying, "God, do I feel better. Here, let me help you."

She was reaching behind Anne, her breasts quivering right in front of Anne's face as she unzipped the back of her dress and pulled it down over her shoulders, revealing her white bra and full lissome breasts. Still kneeling, she giggled as she helped Anne to her feet and helped pull the dress down until it was a heap around her ankles.

Anne responded without thinking, letting Carol make the decisions. And odd excitement came over her as Carol kneeled in front of her, her look slowly taking in all that was revealed to her. Anne stood in her high heels and stockings and garter belt and panties and bra. Softly, in a low voice that sent a spasm of pleasure through her, Carol said, "You have a nice body, Anne, a lovely body."

Anne couldn't answer. There was something so weird about the way Carol was taking in her body and the way her fingers gently touched her and ran, like feathers, up and down her legs and thighs. She shivered and was about to back off when Carol reached out and took her panties with the fingers of both hands and slowly pulled them down to reveal her blonde crotch hair.

Carol was looking at her crotch with a steady gaze and Anne felt powerless to move. In her drugged mind, it was pleasing as she felt her panties slipping lower and lower under Carol's gentle tugging. It was all so exciting and lewd! One final tug and the panties fell free and she stood naked and couldn't help pumping her hips ever so slightly. It was obscene to do but it felt so good!

CHAPTER EIGHT

Rick led Jeff to his den, a room off the living room that was pine-paneled and had tennis trophies on the mantel and a few big game trophies on the walls. Jeff followed munching on the hashish candy. If he hadn't been so drugged, he would have complained loud and long about leaving the women alone just when it seemed something was going to happen.

Rick turned on a TV set and sat in his chair behind the desk, waiting for the set to warm. Jeff sprawled in a big leather chair and grunted.

"What's the matter?" Rick asked over his shoulder as he lit a cigarette.

"Matter?" Jeff was sullen. "Here we are watching TV while they're alone together."

"Watch," Rick said, leveling a finger at the screen that was beginning to glow. An image came into sharp focus and Jeff looked, prepared to be bored, then sat up. What he saw was the bar and a shot of the couch with Anne sitting there and Carol joining her, putting her arm around her and squeezing her hand. "Closed circuit TV. I set it up when I was behind the bar. The camera is concealed behind the bar among the bottles."

"Huh? Does Carol know?"

Rick swung around in his chair to give Jeff a disgusted look. "Of course she does. We told you this whole thing was planned out."

"Rick, I'm worried."

"About what?"

"Supposing it doesn't come off?"

"It will. Quit being an old lady."

"I can't help it. You don't know Anne."

"Oh, yes, I do," Rick said with a hard laugh, swinging back to the screen and letting out a cloud of smoke. "You don't know her. You've been so involved with her you can't think straight. That is one hot momma. All she needs is the right tutoring and she'll be climbing the walls. Look at them. Ha! Go to it, Carol!"

They watched in silence as Carol got up, moved out of camera range, then came back into view, talking to Anne who reacted slowly, her eyes shining and unfocussed. Carol was animated and quickly stripped off her dress.

"It's dark in there," Jeff said, lowering his voice as if they could hear. "How come we can see so well?" "A special lens. One of the fringe benefits of working in TV. Watch."

They watched as Carol stripped down to her panties and bra and Jeff felt his prick leaping to life in his pants. Damn, she had a wild figure, and that little black G-string only made her all the more alluring. Because of the camera position, she was standing with her back to the camera, and Jeff feasted on the bare cheeks of her buttocks, admiring the way the black material seemed to cling to her flesh and burrow into the deep crack of her buttocks.

Now she was kneeling in front of Anne and helping her undress. Jeff sat forward in his seat, his knuckles white as he watched his wife undress and stand up facing the camera clad in only her underwear and look down at Carol in front of her. She was moving as if she were under water and had no will of her own. She stood there, an absentminded little smile on her face as Carol ran her hands lightly over her legs. "Here it comes. Trouble," he ground out between his teeth.

"What do you mean?" Rick said out of the corner of his mouth.

"I mean trouble. Anne isn't queer."

Rick blew out a cloud of smoke and shook his head in a kind of disgusted resignation. "It strikes me that you're the one who is troubled and queer. Listen." He spun around. "Women are sexual creatures. Put them in the right mood and environment, they'd fuck a snake. Anne is a very sexual woman and it's no credit to you that you don't realize it. After tonight, the floodgates will be open. We're going to break her down tonight, commit her so far she can't turn back, break down her inhibitions to the point where she'll let loose. In fact, although she doesn't know it, she's already past the point of no return. Now shut up and watch."

Anne was standing up and, even as they talked, Jeff could see Carol running her hands over his wife's legs and his wife smiling down at her. Then, as he held his breath, Carol reached out and started pulling down her panties and Anne actually lifted her arms away from her body in a kind of passive permission. Rick put his feet up on a corner of the desk and leaned back in his chair. "Yes, sir, I'm really going to enjoy fucking your wife. Some figure. Some hot little body."

Anne stood looking down, at her own naked crotch, at her soft pubic hair, at Carol's hands on her hips and finally at Carol's face. Her eyes were half closed and her expression serious, intent. It seemed as if she were leaning near to her, coming closer with each second. Again her hands slid up and down her thighs. "You have a very lovely body, Anne. Why do you hide it? God, if I had your figure, I'd flaunt it."

Slowly Carol got to her feet, standing close to Anne, the taller of the two. She smiled slowly and said, "I bet you've got lovely breasts. May I see them?" Without waiting for an answer, she reached her arms around Anne, standing very close so that their bras almost touched as she unsnapped the hooks. Instantly, Anne's breasts seemed to swell and leap free as the bra came loose and Carol took it off her shoulders.

There was a sharp intake of breath on Carol's part and her eyes were glittering as she took in the heavy yet firm naked breasts with their pointed nipples that were growing taut under her greedy gaze. "God, Anne, what a magnificent figure. Turn around, let me look at you."

Obediently, Anne turned slowly around, showing Carol every inch of her body. Carol laughed and backed off, shaking her head. "We'd better watch the picture. If I was a man, I'd be all over you."

Anne felt herself pleased and excited by the words of praise. It was a new and exciting thing to have another woman admire her body in such a sensuous but honest way. It was a new thing to her to be naked in the presence of another woman. My God, she thought, looking down at herself, I am naked! How did this happen? She looked at Carol, who had that strange expression on her face again. "Have we gone too far?" she asked in a vague foggy way.

Carol laughed and shook her head. "Just comfortable. Don't you feel better?"

"Yes," she laughed. "And you have a great figure yourself."

"Thank you, but I work at it. Exercise and saunas and a massage every other day." Her voice dropped to a sexy low level. "Ever have a massage?"

Again Anne flushed and shook her head. "Lord, no!"

"You must!" Carol insisted. "I have this Swede who makes house calls. A big muscular guy. Oh, don't worry, it's all on the up-and-up. Believe me, he charges enough. And, believe me, what he does to you is just within the letter of the law! One massage from him and I can't wait for Rick to get home."

The two women looked at each other and giggled.

"The next time I have him over, maybe you could come and we could have a massage together. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

"It would," Anne agreed.

Carol went back to the projector in long showgirl strides, her breasts bouncing with each step. There was a metallic click and the machine came to life again, the film clicking and humming through the sprockets. Then Carol was back at Anne's side, and they sat down on the couch close together, holding hands, their hips and bare thighs touching.

Up on the screen, the girl was kneeling over the man, running his stiff prick up and down the length of her cunt. Then, holding the cock in place, she slowly began to lower her body, sinking down on the cock as the head spread her cunt wide, the hairy, fluted edges of her vaginal lips spreading and closing over the thick mushroom head. The dark intense girl began undulating her body up and down as the camera moved in for a close-up of the action, and the two women watched in silence, their breathing heavy as the oiled and gleaming prick ran in and out of the girl's cunt and her whole body slowly gyrated and rippled.

Anne slowly became aware of Carol's hands on her own body, skimming over her thighs and stomach. She couldn't move as she felt her body begin to throb with an unholy desire. This was all wrong, yet she didn't seem to care that it was all wrong. All she cared about was the increasingly wild feeling in her body.

She gasped when she felt Carol's hands gently cup her huge breasts and fondle them while her thumbs gently rubbed her nipples and sent spasms of crude, lewd pleasure through her body.

She tore her gaze from the screen and looked into Carol's face in a stupor. "Should we be doing this?" she asked weakly.

Carol's face was right next to hers and she could feel her hot breath on her cheek and her expression was wild and wanton. Carol hadn't been watching the film. "I can't take my eyes off your body," she whispered. "Let me be good to you."

Off in the den, Jeff was on his feet, the blood racing through his veins as his heart pounded like a trip-hammer and he saw Anne, his wife, naked, close her eyes and let her head fall back on the couch as Carol continued to fondle her breasts. Rick was sitting up, too, manipulating some dials on a console on the desk. With the aid of a zoom lens, they saw a close-up of the two women's faces. "Won't be long now," he said in a low, excited voice.

Jeff watched, unbelieving, his mouth open, as Carol leaned toward his wife and kissed her full on the lips with an open mouth. Their lips parted slowly, completely relaxed, sticking together in a sensuous way, and he saw Carol's tongue snake out and lick into his wife's mouth and saw Anne open her mouth and sink back on the couch in lewd surrender.

Back in the bar, Carol was gradually forcing Anne down, twirling her tongue in Anne's mouth and feeling the electrifying response of Anne's tongue coming alive.

Anne was sinking on the couch, moaning with delight, falling over on her side and onto her back. Carol's mouth and tongue pulled away from her mouth and licked her chin, then her long graceful throat. Her teeth nibbled at her shoulder, then her tongue left a wet trail on down to her breast. Anne felt her body trembling with an insane desire and she moaned out loud as the tip of Carol's tongue flicked over one distended nipple.

Then Carol's hands were all over her body and she was on top of Anne, her hot wet mouth closing over the nipple and sucking hard. Anne moaned with delight and thrust her pelvis up.

One of Carol's hands slipped down to cup itself over her crotch as her teeth bit the nipple in such a sensuous way. Slowly, as her hand fondled her crotch, Carol let her mouth drift to the other breast, and Anne put her arms around Carol's neck and groaned delightedly, looking down to see her lips sucking greedily at her other nipple. "Oh," she said in a breathy voice. "Ooooohhhhhhhhh!" she echoed in a long sigh.

Carol stopped long enough to lie on top of her, her weight gentle and exciting, her hand still fondling her crotch with her fingers wedging their way into the wet slit of her cunt. Carol put her mouth next to Anne's ear and whispered, "Do you like that?"

Without hesitation, as if in a dream, her eyes closed, Anne hissed, "Yessssss!"

"Want me to please you some more? I want to. You have such a lovely body."

"Yesssss! Oh, yes! You can do anything you want!"

Carol took her hand away from her crotch and sat up long enough to take off her bra and slip off her bikini panties, and Anne opened her eyes to see all of her naked loveliness. There was something so lewd and bold in the way she moved. She too was excited, and her hips were pumping back and forth. Her eyes turned to the screen. The dark girl was now flat on top of the man, his cock buried to the hilt in her cunt and her widespread buttocks were twitching and her groin was grinding down on the cock. Anne's head was swimming. There was so much going on and all of it obscene and exciting. How could she ever let Jeff know she'd done such things?

Before she had a chance to think at all, Carol was on top of her again and she felt the long naked length of her body and her hot soft flesh on hers. Their breasts met and ballooned together and she could feel the pubic hair of Carol's groin mixing with her own. Their mouths locked together in a pagan kiss and Carol's legs were pushing hers apart.

She let Carol wedge her legs between hers, parting her own willingly, letting them spread as wide as possible, finally letting one leg fall onto the floor while she swung the other one up over the back of the couch.

She felt loose and abandoned. She felt like a prostitute, a whore. Worse than that, she felt like a completely amoral creature capable of keeping up this kind of obscene pleasure and torment all night long. She held her breath as her legs split wide and she could feel her cunt open and throbbing. Then she tensed as she felt Carol's pubic hair rubbing up and down over her open cunt, thrilling her as the hair tickled and tingled and grew wet from her excitement. Carol bore down, pumping her hips, rubbing over her clitoris, and Anne opened her mouth and let out a long low sigh and moan.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she rubbed back and forth, supporting herself over Anne's spread-eagled body by her arms, their breasts touching with Carol's nipples skimming back and forth, driving Anne toward ecstasy. Anne had never felt this way before in her whole life. It was so good! It was too good and she could no longer control her actions and her hips thrust up and she bent her knees to spread her cunt wider and get more of a thrill.

That itching had now become a burning desire and she pumped her hips lewdly, wildly, calling to Carol in what seemed another voice. "Oh, I like that! Don't stop! Do it! I love it! I love it! Do anything you want!"

"You want more, do you?" Carol's chuckle and voice were low and there was something menacing and thrilling in the husky way she spoke.

"Yessss, oh, yesssss!"

Carol's weight was suddenly gone, and Anne opened her eyes with a little cry of disappointment and raised her head to look and see Carol crouched between her widespread legs, her breasts ballooning and her face just above Anne's exposed cunt. A quick glance at the screen showed her the black and white figures sprawled naked on the bed now with the man on top of the intense girl whose body was writhing as his cock glided between her legs and disappeared into her cunt and the two locked arms and moved in obscene motion together.

"Aaaaaaaaggggggghhhhhh!" Anne let out a full-throated cry as she felt Carol's tongue lick over her clitoris like a red-hot velvet poker. The spasms of pleasure that shot through her body were searing and sweet. She pulled her knees back still farther as her hands shot down, forcing her huge breasts together as her fingers tangled in Carol's thick red hair and she pulled her mouth down onto her cunt.

Carol responded by darting her tongue into the slick recesses of Anne's cunt, and Anne moaned with delight and pumped her hips lasciviously, wildly, not caring what she did so long as that maddening tongue darted in and out of her pulsating cunt.

She was sweating now, her head thrown back, her mouth open and wild animal sounds coming from her throat as her entire supple body writhed and undulated and Carol's tongue darted in and out and licked at the lips of her cunt. It was almost as if she could feel the cum gathering in her loins like thick hot lava. She wanted to build this fantastic feeling to the point where she exploded and came in a hot beautiful orgasm, over and over again.

A remote part of her mind heard the door unlock and, through her half-open eyes, she saw figures gather around the couch. Her drug-blurred vision couldn't see who they were. She knew they must be men. It must be Jeff! She didn't carelet him watch, let the whole world watch!

Then Carol was gone, torn from her grasp, and she looked to see her lovely seductress being pulled to the floor and someone getting on top of her. Then she felt a heavy body on top of her, a naked body, and she grasped it with a greedy animal sound in her throat and she murmured, "Jeff! Do it, do it!"

A low hard chuckle made her open her eyes wide. Above her, on top of her, was the cruel face of Rick Johnson!

CHAPTER NINE

"NOOOOOOO!" She screamed, over and over, at the top of her lungs. The shock sobered her up temporarily and she looked around her with her eyes wide, a look of horror on her face. She pushed at Rick with superhuman strength, forcing him back for a moment. On the screen, the movie of the couple was still going on with the girl lying on her back on the bed, naked, sprawled, the camera shooting between her legs at her cunt, and above, the man was crouched over her and fucking her wildly in the mouth with his prick.

On the floor she saw Jeff, naked, on top of Carol, fucking her with all his might. "NOOOOOOOOOOO!" she wailed again. In a flash, it all came to her, all the deception and the impossible fact that Jeff was in on the whole thing! It was a trick! The door was supposed to be locked, yet they were here! "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" she screamed again, flailing out with her fists.

Rick seized her by the wrists and held her in a vicelike grip, calling out of the corner of his mouth. "Help me, will you?"

Jeff and Carol scrambled to their feet and looked down as Anne struggled and cried out incoherently. Jeff looked worried and said, "I told you it wouldn't work, I told you!"

"Shut up!" Rick snarled. "Get that absinthe over here."

Carol ran, her breasts bouncing, to get the bottle and return. Anne was struggling with all her might, but she was no match for Rick's strength and weight. In a lightninglike move he snatched both of her wrists in one big hand and, with his free hand, he seized her by the jaw and forced her mouth open and head back. Looking at his wife, he growled, "Pour it down her throat and don't be stingy!"

"Wait a minute!" Jeff said, afraid for his wife and himself.

"Just shut up!" Rick snapped.

Carol tilted the bottle and poured the thick golden liquid down Anne's open throat. Anne choked and sputtered and fought for her breath, gulping the absinthe down.

"More, more!" Rick demanded.

Carol kept pouring the liquid, with Anne coughing and spitting but drinking more and more. Then they were a lewd tableau, all of them naked, crowded around Anne, who still continued to scream and struggle.

Jeff looked around the room nervously, licking his lips. "What if the neighbors hear?"

"This place is soundproof," Carol said, looking up. On the screen, the couple were fucking for all they were worth, the girl's body half off the bed as they mounted toward an orgasm.

"Get her legs," Rick said, his voice guttural and his face twisted. "Her legs, damn it! I'm going to fix this bitch good!"

Carol obeyed, seizing one of Anne's ankles and pulling her leg wide. Anne screamed, her voice hoarse, and fought. Jeff stood watching her, seeing her struggles, watching her body twist and turn, her breasts quiver and bounce as she let her head thrash back and forth. Something in her movements aroused him beyond belief. It was sexual and sadistic and exciting! He seized his wife's other ankle and pulled her leg wide. Rick let go of her wrists and sat back to look at her. "Well," he said, "That's more like it."

Anne's struggles were rapidly diminishing. The absinthewhich is really a drug, wormwoodwas having its effect. Carol had poured nearly half the bottle down her throat. She lay on the couch, her eyes glazed over, occasionally aroused to a struggle. She lay with her legs obscenely split. Held by Carol and Jeff, she could only look around, her mind confused. "Just hold her for a while so I can get a good look at her," Rick said, a twisted grin on his face.

Anne lay with her cunt exposed, and Rick took his thumbs, fighting away her hands, and spread the fluted edges of her vaginal lips. They all looked at the cherry redness of her cunt that glistened with excitement. "This is going to be interesting," Rick growled. "I like them with some fight in them. Keep holding her until that absinthe takes full effectthen she'll be fighting to get fucked some more."

Anne felt the room reeling around her. It was as if the Johnsons and her husband were really devils, determined to destroy her. It was all so unreal, a nightmare, and she closed her eyes, praying she would wake up. In closing her eyes, she became more aware of her body and of Rick's fingers spreading her cunt, and it felt good. Again there was that itch, deeper and wilder than before, and Rick's thumbs caressing her clitoris, igniting the raging fire in her loins. Despite every effort of her fast-waning will, she found that she simply had to pump her hips. She had to move her buttocks, to roll and gyrate.

"Ah." Rick's voice was a deep satisfied sigh. "See? I told you. You want me to fuck you, don't you, Anne?"

Anne opened her eyes, her body restless, not fighting now, but needing, wanting. She opened her eyes and saw the screen. The couple were standing now, the dark intense girl with her back to the man and spreading her legs and bending over all the way while the man held her by the hips and slowly sank his prick in her cunt from behind. It looked so exciting, so good! She couldn't take her glazed eyes from the sight.

"Answer me!"

She tore her eyes away to look at Rick. What had he said?

"You want me to fuck you, don't you?"

She looked around her. Redheaded Carol had one of her long legs and was caressing it, running her hand all the way up her thigh. Jeff, naked, excited, had slung her other leg over the back of the couch, and she was naked and obscene as she writhed and lolled about, her cunt feeling like it was inflamed with a wild desire. They wanted her to do it and she wanted to do it. Do it in front of her husband and Carol! "Y yes," she said, her voice trembling.

"Say itsay you want to be fucked," Rick insisted.

"I... I... want to... be... fucked!" The word stung in the air like acid eating through metal. Suddenly her mind snapped. It was the first time she had ever said the word and it sent dark lewd thrills snapping through her body. And it was a delicious word and idea. "Yes!" she said, looking around, "Fuck me, fuck me with all your might. Fuck me, all of you fuck me!"

She was fighting again, but this time she was fighting with a wanton abandon, splitting her legs even wider. She looked down at Rick's groin as he was getting on top of her and her eyes widened. Never had she seen such a big thick prick! It would be too much! Yet, panting, eager, she wanted it, she wanted it more than anything in the world. Her hand was between her legs, wildly groping for the cock as Rick mounted her.

She felt it, and a shudder ran through her. God, it was so thick she could barely get her fingers around it! She squeezed it and it was like trying to squeeze a steel bar! She felt the huge head push massively against her wet cunt and begin to spread her vaginal lips, and she was panting lightly and fast, her body covered with a fine film of sweat. Jeff and Carol let go of her legs and both kneeled in front of the couch, fondling one another's naked bodies as they watched Rick and Anne.

His thick mushroom head ran up and down the length of her glistening cunt and Anne tried with all her might to use her groin muscles to spread the ragged edges of her cunt wider. Still the head pressed forward a little, spreading her cunt until the lips were thin. Rick leaned his weight and pushed and his cock was like a monster snowplow, dividing all in its way.

Anne felt giddy, dizzy, her eyes rolling around to see the screen and the couple in the film still fucking, the girl falling face down on the bed while the man fucked her from behind with a wild abandon. And there was Jeff and Carol watching and another man's prick was filling her cunt, stretching it to the limit as her husband watched. Her eyes half closed, she saw Carol slowly sink to the floor and grab her husband's prick and begin sucking on it as they both watched. It was so obscene, so lewd, so exciting! Gone was all her moralizing! They were animals, and they were fucking! "Fuck me," she murmured in a feverish way. "Fuck me hard!"

Cruelly Rick sank his cock home, the mushroom head making a sensual sound as it sank home and spread her cunt until the lips looked like eight rubber bands around the shaft of his cock and she winced. It hurt, it was so huge! Yet the pain mingled with the pleasure and drove her on to more desperate heights. She could feel a massive orgasm building in her like floodwaters behind a dam. Rick began sawing in and out, sinking deeper with each thrust, lifting her off the couch and then pushing her buttocks down into it again.

She had never had a fucking like this! Her cunt was stretched so tight around his thick long prick that she felt like she was clinging to it; he seemed to pull her cunt walls out as he withdrew and then roll them back in again with each new brutal thrust. Gradually he was increasing the rhythm and depth of his thrusts, and Anne felt her eyes rolling around in her head until they were unfocussed. It was so delicious to be fucked this way.

Rick was dominating her completely and she gave in, relaxed, letting her body do what it wanted. She writhed and bucked in time to his fucking, and she saw images of the couple on the screen fucking and Jeff sprawled naked on the floor with Carol sucking his prick, her head seeming to move in time to Rick's savage thrusts.

She had thought she was being fucked before, but now Rick really let loose his strength and his cock sank all the way home, banging against her cervix, causing her to wince and cry out in pain. The pain mounted, becoming unbearable, and she was near crying out, begging him to stop, when the pain seemed to, crest, to reach its peak where it held, searing her, then toppled and fell the long dark way down into the floodwaters of her orgasm. There it seemed to hiss, acting as a catalyst, sending her orgasm shooting through her body and darting at the speed of light into her brain, seeming almost to tear the top of her head off, and her whole body was one great orgasm and she quivered all over and thrust her buttocks up, begging for more. "I... I... I'mmmmmm ccccumming!"

With a savage, almost maniacal strength, Rick rasped, "Oh, no you don't, not yet!" He held her tight in his arms and rolled the two of them, sending them crashing to the floor, Rick on the bottom and taking the fall with all his strength. He saw stars and his breath left him for a moment, but he held on to her in an iron grip, his prick still embedded in her cunt.

Anne was on top of him and she knew what he wanted. She drew her knees up and crouched over his body, her thighs split wide, and began pumping up and down, gyrating her ass as she felt his prick sliding in and out of her cunt with a tight pleasing motion.

Jeff crawled around and saw Rick's thick lubricated shaft buried in his wife's cunt, buried to the hilt and spreading her cunt as wide as it could go. He watched, obscenely fascinated as he saw his wife's buttocks split wide and pumping madly, lewdly. God, she loved it! Her buttocks were drawn apart, revealing her tight puckered anus that contracted and disappeared between her cheeks as she pumped down and squeezed her cunt over Rick's prick. It was a lewd, wonderful sight, and he wanted to fuck his wife, more than he had ever wanted to before!

Carol was pushing him out of the way, crawling to watch Anne and her husband. She looked around at Jeff, her face wild. "I can't stand it. Got to do it right," she murmured thickly. The room was hot and heavy with the smell of sex as Carol leaned over, her hands spreading Anne's lovely buttocks wide, exposing her anus.

Anne, as if by instinct or some nonverbal message, froze, not moving, holding on to Rick's prick, burying it in her cunt with a greedy movement. Carol bent her head and the tip of her tongue flicked back and forth across Anne's anus. Anne let out a long moan that sounded like an animal in ecstasy, and her whole body was racked by a shudder under the lashing tongue.

Carol pulled away quickly and whirled to Jeff and seized his cock and sucked on it while he let his head fall back as he groaned. Then Carol was embracing him, her hot mouth next to his ear. "Fuck her!" she whispered, her voice hoarse and breathy, "Fuck her in the ass!"

"What!!"

"Fuck her, I want to see it! Fuck her in the ass!"

Then Carol let go and was sinking to the floor, her eyes dreamy and half closed, her hand reaching up and caressing Anne's buttocks, her finger flicking over her wet anus. Anne moaned and screwed her buttocks up, spreading them as far as they would go, exposing her anus even more.

Jeff looked and found the temptation growing in him like an explosion seen in slow motion. Why not? Why not do it? It would make up for all the other times when she had denied him. It would settle things for once and all! It would humiliate her!

Eagerly, a growl in his throat, he got behind her and dug his nails into her hips, holding her in place. He didn't have to. Anne raised her buttocks, Rick's cock sliding half way out of her. Jeff put the head of his prick on her tiny, rubbery anus. It seemed so tight, so small. Yet, his teeth gritting, he leaned and felt her flesh giving and heard her cry out. He refused to listen to her voice, pushing harder and feeling her flesh giving. Then, with an obscene plopping sound, the head of his cock burst home, the rubbery ring of her anus tightening around his shaft. He felt the soft, incredibly tight insides of her anus as Anne screamed.

"Aaaaaaaagggggghhhhhhh! No! No! NO! Aaaaagggggghhhhaaaa! It hurts, oh, please, please, it hurts! I'll do anything, anything you say, but please stop! You're killing me!"

A sadistic shout of triumph came tearing out of Jeff's throat and he began sawing wildly in and out, his own cock hurting from the tightness of her anus. Anne felt as if she had been skewered, caught on two cruel cocks, as she felt Rick beginning to pump his hips up and down. The two pricks were filling her, separated from one another by only a wall of thin, inflamed flesh. The pain was mounting to the point where she was seeing red, seeming to see her own blood being spilled, and she felt sure she was going to pass out and die. Wildly she looked at Carol and called for help, but Carol only stared at her with a dreamy smile on her face.

Anne was being battered, twisted, like a match thrown into an inferno. Her breasts jiggled and shook and her whole body was made to writhe and buck uncontrollably and her screams became lower and more prolonged and changed, gradually, to a mewing, a deep moaning as she felt the pricks sawing hammering in and out of her, and the pleasure mounted, whirling upward, billowing out like great thunderclouds and she smiled and loved it! She loved it and wanted it to go on forever!

Carol appeared in front of her, smiling. Anne was on her hands and knees as she felt the two cocks sawing in and out of her. Carol was lying down on her back, spreading her legs wide, opening her cunt so that Anne could see the cherry-red walls wet with desire. Rick, underneath her, was fondling her breasts roughly. Carol, her knees bent and her legs drawn up, was wiggling closer, her buttocks right behind Rick's head.

With a wild moan, Anne let her head drop and her lips tasted the soft wetness of Carol's cunt and her tongue darted wildly about as all four of them fucked away with wild abandon, Rick roaring and pumping hot sperm into her cunt until it spilled over and oozed out. Jeff, his head thrown back, fucked with wild abandon and felt Anne come, screaming in delight, her body tensing then trembling, shuddering, as he fucked on and came with a guttural shout, pumping his sticky cum into her anus and then slumping to the floor.

The two men lay panting, watching Anne lick and suck Carol's cunt as the film ended and the reel slapped around and around and the screen went white. Jeff relaxed, grinning at Rick. There was plenty of time and he knew they had plenty of films. There was the whole night ahead of them.

CHAPTER TEN

In the wee hours of the night that followed, even Rick began to feel tired, and suggested that they all refresh themselves by taking a swim. The idea was greeted with little enthusiasm at first, but finally Anne looked at the rest of them with a strange gleam dancing in her eyes. "I can't," she said with mock seriousness. "I don't have a bathing suit here."

It was too much. The other three collapsed in convulsive mirth which dwindled into feeble gasps of hilarity. After all, all four of them were jaybird naked. A bathing suit...?

It was a good joke, but Anne persisted. Finally Carol offered to loan Anne a suit. They were by no means the same size, but Carol kept several extras on hand for modest guests. And since the suit was the skimpiest of bikinis, it wouldn't matter if it turned out to be a little extra tight, would it?

The girls vanished into a bedroom, and a short while later there were splashing sounds from the direction of the backyard. Rick cocked an eye at Jeff, who was lying back idly enjoying a cigarette. "Coming?" he asked.

"Not right now," Jeff told his new friend. "You go ahead. I'll probably be along in a few minutes."

Rick walked out across the patio to the pool, where he found Anne alone swimming in the pleasantly heated water. His eyes followed her as she cut through the water under the soft glow of the floodlights and then pulled herself up the ladder and stretched out on a soft mat near the edge. Tilting her head, she looked up at him and smiled lazily.

"Come on in; the water's fine."

He grinned back at her sardonically. "I know you don't really mean it's the water you want me in," he told her. "But just for that, I'll teach you a lesson."

He made a perfect, flat dive into the pool. He swam back and forth for a few minutes, then made for the ladder, using strong strokes and enjoying the feel of the water as his head got clearer and clearer. Anne moved over and made room for him as he reached the mat and stretched out beside her. Her eyes moved over his bronzed body and the contrasting white of his knit trunkstrunks he had worn as a unique concession to her little joke.

She arched her body forward slightly, knowing that the tight bikini left little to the imagination. He watched, still impressed at her beauty, until recently virtually virginal, and wondered if she was ready for more sex. He found himself wishing that she'd start something of her own volition this time. That way he'd know for sure that his and Carol's plan had succeeded.

As Rick continued to stare at her, she reached out a hand and ran it over his chest.

"RickI want to thank you for a lovely evening, and for teaching me a lesson I needed badly to learn."

Rick grinned again, but this time inwardly. He felt a fresh stab of desire as her hand trailed down over him The refreshing effect of the water on him, and how the feel of her hand, caused his pulse to quicken slightly. Anne didn't lift her hand from him, and now her fingers circled tantalizingly over the soft mat of dark hair on his belly.

Just the feel of Anne's fingers on him caused his body to react. His cock quivered and began to grow in his tight trunks, and Anne's eyes were glued to it.

Anne never took her eyes from his swelling organ. She smiled. In one swift motion Anne's hand found him, and then she was brushing her palm back and forth over the tent in his trunks. Rick was caught completely off guard by the move; and before he realized what had happened, he was gasping with pleasure.

He started to push her hand away, but his body wouldn't allow him to move. Pleasure began to well up in him, and he groaned.

Anne realized she had won, and she went into action. She hooked her fingers under the top of his tight trunks and hauled them down to his knees in one swift motion. Rick's stiff cock surged upward from the confines of his trunks and slapped against his belly. He groaned, and his hips raised up off the float automatically.

"Wow, AnneI'll say you've learned a lesson!"

Anne stripped the trunks the rest of the way off him, and then her hands grasped his cock and began stroking and caressing the hard, pulsing organ. Rick groaned as a jolt of need shot through him.

"Oh god, baby, that feels good..."

Rick roughly stripped off her bikini; and as her big breasts popped free, Rick realized they were bigger and more beautiful than before. He reached up and cupped the big, hard-tipped melons in his palms. Anne let out a little moan and rolled over on top of him. Her lips found his, and her tongue broke through his teeth and searched for his.

Rick could think of nothing but the fire that surged through him; and he moved his hands down and slipped them over her hips, filling his palms with the firm flesh of her buttocks. As his fingers explored the hillocks, squeezing gently, Anne's hips began to rotate; and he felt the moist, open lips of her cunt rubbing back and forth against his throbbing cock.

Anne rolled her lower body off him far enough to enable her to slip her hand down over his belly and grasp his thick, burning cock and push it down so it would slip between her long, silky legs. Rich felt her capture his cock between her thighs, and then she rolled back on top of him and started to move again. He groaned with pleasure as she clutched at his pulsing organ with her firm thighs and the hard tips of her breasts dug into the mat of hair on his chest. His hands worked over her back, caressing her silky flesh; then he moved them back to her buttocks and helped her rotate her eager body against him.

It was the first time in her life Anne had had a real desire to make love. It was new and strange, but she felt that she knew exactly what to do. It felt so good, so natural to become an eager, willing woman twisting and churning against male flesh.

Having Rick's thick, burning cock so close to where she wanted it most made Anne impatient. The flames of desire were licking through her body, and she wanted to feel him in her. She rolled over onto her hack and spread her silky thighs apart.

"Please, Rick, now... oh god, how I need it!"

Rick was enjoying the feel of her too much to go plunging ahead just yet. It had been a long time since he'd simply wanted to feel and caress a woman, to make her ready for the stab of his stiff cock.

He raised himself up on one elbow and began to run his hand back and forth over her breasts as she started to raise and lower her buttocks rhythmically on the mat. Anne whimpered, and her hand slipped along Rick's thigh and began to caress his balls and cock. Her other hand reached up for his head and hauled him down to meet her waiting lips.

As Rick tasted the sweetness of her mouth with his tongue, he moved one hand down over the slight rise of her belly and slipped it in between her open thighs. He stroked lightly back and forth over the silky softness.

Neither of them was aware that Jeff and Carol, still stark naked and with their arms around each other's warm, quivering bodies, had emerged from the shrubbery and were watching them with the greatest of delight...

Rick let his fingers slip between Anne's moist cuntal lips and began to probe her intimately. Her hips shot up off the mat to greet his exploring hand, and a groan of pleasure escaped from her gaping mouth. Her hand became more frantic on his thick, pulsing cock; and as she massaged it surprisingly expertly, Rick felt his head hammering through his body toward his loins.

He rolled over between her wildly spread thighs and slipped his hands under her bouncing buttocks. Anne's fingers were guiding him feverishly as he thrust his hips downward to her slowly. He gave her a few short strokes until she was ready for him, and Anne arched her back and drove herself up to meet him. Rick gave her everything he had, and Anne lurched and cried out with pleasure as she pulled his hot cock into her burning flesh.

They were both worked up to a searing pitch, and Rick didn't slow his pace. Anne answered his hammering thrusts with twisting, grinding, gyrating motions of her own, and he felt his mind slowly losing itself in the sensual pleasure her body was bringing him.

Suddenly there was nothing but a feeling of warmth and bliss, building ever so slowly and ever so wonderfully. A sensation such as Rick hadn't felt with many other women stormed through him, and he groaned and pistoned his stiff cock harder and harder into her willing body. Then every muscle in his body tensed; and for a second he was motionless, trying to hang onto the warm glow; but his body knew what lay past this blissful balance of pleasure, and his hips moved automatically downward into the moist, quivering warmth.

Stars...

Skyrockets...

With agonizingly wonderful pleasure the dam burst, and he was shooting a stream of molten love juice into her twisting body below. Anne went wild when she felt the first gush of thick creamy fluid, and her cry of pleasure combined with the contortions and convulsions of her body to send Rick through an ecstatic series of shudders; his body strained against hers again and again as he emptied his lust into her.

Carol was wearing an almost transparent robe when Jeff rejoined her in the bedroom after taking a quick dip, and the only thing she had on underneath the tight pink material was a pair of bikini panties. Jeff's eyes went to the jutting tips of her firm, conical breasts as they swung back and forth gently under the transparent robe. They were fully erect, and the pressure they exerted on the front of the robe made the vermilion buds and darker areolas stand out against its pinkness.

Jeff had been in the process of lighting himself a cigarette, and the match he was holding burned his fingers. He cursed softly and dropped it to the deeply carpeted floor. Carol smiled, pleased that she had impressed him again after so many hours of activity.

Jeff stood for a second, letting his eyes roam over her; then he found another match and lit up his cigarette. Carol showed him a tray holding fresh drinks and an aerosol can of whipped cream, and Jeff's eyes played over the dimpled mounds of her resilient buttocks as she carried them over to the table beside the bed and set them down.

Jeff walked over beside her; and they lifted their drinks simultaneously and tossed them back, both of them knowing that the other was eager too to get things going again. Jeff's eyes moved over her as he drank. The panties she was wearing appeared to have the crotch cut out, and the silky triangle of shimmering curls nestled between her thighs stood out proudly under the thin robe.

His hand slipped down over the front of her body, touching the tips of her breasts and then sinking to graze the mass of curls below. All thoughts of Anne and Rick vanished from Jeff's mind as he searched for an ashtray and ground out his cigarette. Carol could smell his need as she watched his chest heave with his labored breathing. She backed over to the edge of the bed and sat down, her eyes glued to him.

Jeff's hand moved to his crotch and he turned to her, circling his huge, proud cock with his right hand.

"Look, baby; have a good look. You don't see one like this every day."

Carol was looking, and her eyes were wide with appreciation. She had never even dreamed that a man could lose his inhibitions so fast. The sight of the massive, gnarled cock quivering in front of her, its vermilion head glistening moistly in the soft light of the bedroom, brought a moan from her.

Jeff smiled and released his cock.

Carol's eyes followed the gently swaying motion of the huge organ. He gave her a few more minutes to study him; then he crossed over to her and pulled her to her feet. His thumbs and forefingers began to work on her pulsing nipples, and Carol let out a husky moan of need. Her hands slipped around his waist, and then she dropped them to cup the flesh of his muscled buttocks. He felt her lips and tongue on his chest. His hands found the belt to her robe, and he opened it and pushed it back on her shoulders. She pulled her arms free of the filmy pink material, and it dropped to her feet on the floor. Jeff's eyes ran over her revealed breasts, then down over the slight curve of her belly to the bikini panties. He smiled as he looked at the open crotch.

"Cute, baby; we don't even have to take them off."

Carol groaned, and her hands reached out to grasp his pulsing shaft; and as her fingertips grazed its tip, Jeff's hips shot forward automatically, and the thick organ in her hands jerked. The feel of it fired her already smoldering body, and she could almost feel the massive cock in her mouth.

She moved closer to him until the tip of his erect cock rested against the front of her body. Jeff contracted the little muscle in his lower belly, and the throbbing organ rubbed up and down against her. Carol filled her hands with the heavy spheres of his balls and closed her eyes as he manipulated himself against her. Jeff's hand went back to her breasts, and he kneaded the big orbs gently as her fingers massaged his nuts. They stayed that way for a while, enjoying the sensual feel of each other; and then Carol stepped back and smiled.

Her eyes were clouded with passion as she spoke.

"Do you know something else I like to do?"

Jeff looked puzzled as she indicated the whipped cream.

"You mean you want me to"

Jeff grinned again and moved over to the bed. He stretched out on his back and looked up at her. "You do what you want to me, babyand when you're through, I'll return the favor gladly."

He watched her heaving breasts as she picked up the whipped cream and crossed over to the bed. Her breath was coming in short gasps as she neared him; and when she popped the lid off the can, Jeff's breathing began to match hers. He watched her finger press down on the button at the top of the can; and as the cool foam hit the tip of his throbbing cock, he arched his hips up off the bed and moaned.

"Ohhh, baby... this is going to be good."

Carol covered his gigantic cock quickly, holding it with one hand while she sprayed him with the cool white foam. When she had him covered to her satisfaction, she dropped the can to the floor, and ran her tongue around her lips.

"Oh... you don't know how badly I want this..."

Jeff closed his eyes.

"Well, come on; there's nothing stopping you."

A jolt of pleasure ripped through his body as her tongue settled on the foam and she started to lap it off. She worked over him slowly, savoring the feel and taste of him, her tongue flashing from between her sensuous lips again and again.

Jeff thought he'd explode from the blissful sensation that filled his body; and when she'd made it halfway down the length of his mammoth, burning cock, he lost control of himself. His hips shot up to her, and he grunted with pleasure as he shuddered again and again. Carol moaned as she saw it quivering, and she moved her mouth back to the tip of the jerking organ and sucked it inside. Her mouth and tongue worked on him feverishly as he poured forth his thick creamy love juice into her eager chasm. He emptied himself, and then his buttocks dropped back to the bed, and he grunted with satisfaction.

He felt her lips pull away, and he looked up into her passion-filled eyes and smiled. Her hands were cupping his balls, and he felt her massage and knead gently as she looked down at him. Her tongue slipped out from between her lips and moved in a circle, removing the traces of the remaining cream.

"Mmm... that was good."

Jeff laughed, and his hands went to the back of her head and pulled her mouth back down to him. He hadn't lost any of his arousal, and her words had sent a shot of renewed need through his body to his loins. She didn't need much urging to comply with his wish. Her tongue lashed out again, and she started on the other half of his pulsing cock. By the time her tongue was licking the last of the whipped cream off the base of his burning shaft, he was near the top again; and when she pulled her head away, his hand reached down to the carpeted floor beside the bed and searched for the aerosol can. He found it and lifted it up in front of her. His eyes rested on the swollen tips of her breasts as his finger found the button and pushed.

He directed the nozzle to the spheres she had nestled in her hand, and he covered his balls with the white foam. Carol smiled, and the hand that had been holding him went to her lips. She licked her fingers slowly, and then dropped her head back down between his thighs. Jeff's whole body tightened as he felt her tongue again, and then her hand found his cock, and she moved it up and down in unison with her lashing tongue. Jeff's mind went blank, and his buttocks shot up off the bed to meet her. Her mouth moved back to the end of his throbbing organ again, and she drained him once more.

He collapsed into the luxurious softness of the big bed and fought to regain his breath. Her lips worked up over the muscled washboard of his belly, and then continued upward over his chest. She stretched herself out on top of him, and he felt his breathing become labored even before it had time to return to its normal state. He squirmed below her, enjoying the feel of her warm nakedness; and then her lips settled on his, and he opened his teeth to receive her lashing tongue. The kiss was a long one; and by the time she pulled away from him, he was ready for her again. He cupped her hips in his palms and rolled her over gently; then he lifted himself slightly and settled between her open thighs.

"Now it's my turn to satisfy my hungry baby."

He reached over and picked up the can of whipped cream from the bed beside them; then he shifted himself lower on the bed and moved the nozzle between her spread thighs. He was about to press it when a smile formed on his face.

"Say, baby, you wouldn't have a bottle of wine around, would you?"

She opened her eyes and looked at him questioningly for a second; then she smiled back at him. "Of course. There are all kinds in the bar over there."

The thought of what was coming filled Carol with anticipation, and Jeff sensed that she knew what he had in mind. He laughed and vaulted off the bed.

"I did it for a girl once, and she almost went out of her mind."

He looked down at her moist, open cunt lips and let his tongue run around his lips.

"I couldn't think of a nicer way to drink."

He walked into the playroom and crossed to the bar. He picked out a bottle of wine and was just about to close it when he noticed the cooler. He grinned as he pulled the cooler door open. Reaching inside, he pulled out a handful of small ice cubes; then he picked up the bottle with his other hand and started back toward the bedroom. Carol had her eyes closed, and her hot little ass was bouncing all over the bed. He settled himself below her on the bed, and bent his lips to kiss the dark triangle of curls. A moan of delight escaped from between her sensuous lips, and her hips thrust up toward him.

Jeff raised his lips from her and grinned as he set the bottle down on the bed beside them. He moved his right hand up between her thighs and held her moist sheath open; then he caressed her intimately for a second.

She groaned and twisted on the bed below him; then he moved his other hand up and began to stuff the small ice cubes into her moist readiness. She let out a scream as she felt them slipping into her, and then her hips flew up, and her whole body shuddered and convulsed.

Jeff watched her as she shook through an ecstatic release, and then he reached over for the bottle of wine and opened it. He held her open with his left hand again as he slipped the neck of the bottle between her thighs, and then he tipped it up and let the liquid pour into her.

She whimpered and trembled on the bed as he poured it into her; and then, as the fluid started to trickle down to the bed, he pulled the bottle out and put the top back on. Her hands reached for the back of his head, and he dropped the bottle down to the carpet as she urged him closer. His lips found her; then he moved his hands up the insides of her thighs, and as he moved across the sensitive skin she lashed her buttocks up off the bed to meet him. His fingers found her hot box and held her open as his tongue moved against her; and then her legs slipped around his neck and he felt himself held by the viselike grip of her silky thighs.

His hands slipped up over her belly and found her breasts, and he tweaked and rolled the hard tips between his fingers and thumbs as his tongue worked on her below. She arched her back up to him and moaned with delight as his tongue circled, jabbed, and circled again deep within her. Jeff lapped greedily, his senses filled with her need. The smell of her passion filled his nostrils, intermingled with the sensual odor of the wine; and the sweet taste that filled his mouth was indescribable. His enjoyment soon reached the proportions of hers, and he forgot everything as he strove to give her the pleasure she craved.

She had been worked up by the previous session with the whipped cream, and it only took a few minutes for her to go over the top. Jeff never stopped the motions of his tongue; and as soon as she finished, he had her starting all over again. He pushed her over the peak again and again; the last time she shuddered through her release, she let out a cry of ecstatic pleasure that reverberated off the walls of the bedroom. The absolute animal gratification he could sense in her drove him to the point of having to possess her again, and he lifted his head from between her velvet-smooth thighs and twisted his body around on the bed. She sensed his intention immediately, and her hand found his massive cock and guided the thick knob between her lips.

Carol sucked the throbbing organ gently, enjoying the wondrous alive feeling of it. Jeff bent his head between her open thighs and let his tongue trace a slow path around the edge of her moist, open outer lips; then his tongue went deeper, probing and exploring deeply against the tender flesh. Carol let out a low, muffled groan of delight and began to caress and stroke his heavy balls.

Jeff sensed that she wanted him to move; and his hips moved into a gentle back-and-forth motion, driving his thick pole of burning meat in and out of her mouth. Carol began to rotate her lips as she sucked, and a new thrill swept through as she felt his tongue find the stiff bud of her clitoris and begin to polish and lap at it.

It was like hitting the passion button in Carol's lush form, and she groaned and struggled to suck more of his pulsing cock into her mouth. In a few seconds both of them were lost in the delight of what they were doing for each other; and the room filled with moist, sucking sounds of their oral lovemaking. There was no hurry, and they took their time; but it was good, and over quickly for both of them.

Anne was squirming and bouncing so frantically that Rick almost lost his grip on her twisting buttocks. He felt the shudder ripple through her body as she drove herself up to him, moaning happily. Her hands moved over Rick's back and clutched his pistoning buttocks, giving him the added push he needed to finish; and his thrusting hips drove his thick cock deeper into her, releasing a gushing flood of creamy love juice.

Rick finished, and then collapsed on top of her body to rest, struggling to regain his breath. Anne's hands were on his shoulders, stroking his flesh.

"Oh, Rick, that was so good! I haven't felt like this before in my life."

Rick found enough strength to roll over onto his back beside her. His chest heaved as he settled back and enjoyed the hot, cascading waves of blissful afterglow that moved through him. As he looked at Anne beside him, he wondered if Carol would ever actually surpass her. Carol was different now that she had taken a liking to going down on him; she wasn't the same when they did it the regular wayas though she didn't have her heart in it. Anne, on the other hand, had already become a well-oiled sex machine, giving as much or more than she had taken....

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Jeff pulled into his driveway and sat in the car for a minute, sighing. It had been a tough week and he had been away most of the time, flying to New York and Chicago and St. Louis, kicking off a new fund-raising campaign. Since he had gotten his new job, life had been hectic but more fun than he had ever imagined life could be.

And it was the weekend and it was nice to be home, to their new home. He was eager to get inside, see Anne, have a drink and then maybe a dip in their pool. And, after that, well, Anne always had an interesting night lined up. Hell, he thought with a grin, it's nice to look forward to a weekend.

He swung into the house whistling. Anne came running and threw her arms around him. "Hiya, slugger!" she called.

He hugged and kissed her and threw his coat off, backing off to look at her. Anne was wearing a pair of tight leather pants that were cut low on her waist, baring her midriff and tantalizing navel. The top was made mostly of fringe and she wasn't wearing a bra and he caught glimpses of her breasts and nipples underneath. She stood grinning at him, thrusting a hip out. "Like it?"

"Far out. You gonna wear that out in public?"

She twitched her buttocks and looked at him through long eyelashes. "Only at intimate gatherings."

They laughed together and she mixed him a drink as he told her of his trip. She served him his drink, lit a cigarette for him and handed it to him along with the mail. "Mostly bills," she said, sitting down next to him, one breast peeking through the fringe. "Some business letters. I arranged them in order of importance." "Good girl."

"And," she smiled coyly, "we got some answers to our ad."

Jeff laughed. "I suppose they're right on top."

"Where else? One of them is very interesting.

Jeff opened the letter and read it. "Interesting. The wife, Sheila, likes to be tied up. All kinds of possibilities thereand the husband likes to watch. Let's see what they look like." He held up a glossy color picture of a young attractive couple in a bedroom, both of them naked. "Hmm. You know, honey, I think we ought to get to meet this couple. Why don't you invite them over?"

Anne gave a lewd smile. "I already have."

"You bitch!" he laughed, slapping her on the thigh.

"Mmmmm, do that again."

"When are they coming?"

"Tonight, for a drink."

"Christ, I'm hot already!"

"So am I. I've been horny all day. Honey," Anne said in her most charming imploring way, cuddling up to him, "I've been thinking. I've got a birthday coming up and I want you to get me something?"

"What? Name it," he said, kissing her.

"I want a dog. A male. A big one. A German police dog."

Jeff laughed hard and pushed her away. "All right! Okay! I bet you're going to tell me that you're frightened when you're alone and you want the dog for protection."

Anne put on her prettiest pout. "That's right," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "After all, Carol has one." "Okay, but I'll be damned if I'm going to be jealous of a dog!"

Anne put her arms around his neck and kissed him, her breasts burning against his chest. "You'll never have to be, darling. I'll take good care of him."

THE END
A Bride For Torment ....(84k)    by Marshall Roberts





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