Veronica slipped the fingers of her right hand up her cunt and watched the morning light slowly penetrate the room. She had not slept all night nor had she really tried to sleep. Tense and anxious, she had left George's side to sit in the velvet covered wing chair opposite the French windows. And now it was here--the day she both dreaded and looked forward to with wild anticipation. And yet she did not understand the cause of her excitement. Now that the day was upon her she considered the matter seriously for the first time. George was leaving for a business trip to Boston; but surely it was not the thought of his absence which caused her heart to thud so violently that she sat with her lips slightly parted and trembling. In the first place, she didn't particularly care to have George leave and, in the second place, his presence had almost never prevented her from indulging in her favorite pastime, sex. If anything, having George nearby contributed to the thrill. She had, in fact, had had wild sex almost under his nose on several reckless occasions. The sex fair that afternoon, of course, promised to be daring and exciting, but she was, once again, accustomed to taking incredible risks for her pleasure.
Whatever it was that caused her heart to beat alternately with fear and excitement was buried deep inside and went beyond both George's absence and the sex fair. And depth, unless it was the depth of her hot tunnel, did not interest Veronica. Besides, George had had a restless night, too. When she had left the bed, he had been tossing his magnificent body restlessly. Perhaps it was the phase of the moon or something else beyond her control. She pushed all thoughts from her mind. For whatever reason she had anticipated the day, ft had arrived. The day was to be seized and experienced voluptuously.
She leaned forward and watched the this, probing shaft of light thicken and suddenly burst, spilling pale light into the darkened corners of the elegant room. Haw sexual, she thought Christ, must everything be sexual to me? Freud would have loved me. Living proof that everything can be reduced to sex. And I would have loved Freud. I've never had a man with a beard like that eat my pussy. She slipped her fingers oat of her slit and sniffed them with her eyes closed. My dear, you're such a cunt. A real cunt, George would simply shit if he knew.
The room was filled with light now, and she heard the sound of a garden hose being turned on. Tom was out there, that cocky son of a bitch. Without a shirt With nothing on, in fact, except tight denim jeans. Well, there's no denying; me way that lean bastard hangs onto that garden hose realty is sexual. She stood up and walked towards the French windows. The transparent peignoir fell away from her body, and she brought her hands up to cup her tits. They were huge. She smiled now to remember that her tits had once been a painful source of embarrassment to her. Her sorority sisters had called her M.M. for Miracle Mountains, and she had tried to conceal them. It had upset her most of all that such big tits prevented her from wearing the chic dresses from the third floor of I. Magnin. Ladies are supposed to have large breasts! Well, those dizzy cunts at the sorority would probably give their eye teeth now for a pair of man-sized knockers.
Holding the peignoir loosely closed with one band, Veronica stepped outside and walked across the lawn towards the sound of the hose. Tom was standing with his back to her, his legs slightly apart in a self-assured stance. The faded material of his jeans hugged the slight curve of his small, muscular ass. She stood for a moment and watched his body as it moved with the swaying motion of the hose. He was very slim but muscular, and his body was a rich golden brown from going without a shirt day after day. She drew in her breath and held it for a moment, sensing the strength of his body, anticipating the powerful thrust of his ass.
Tom turned around, and her eyes fell on the lean hard muscles of his stomach before settling upon the large swelling at his crotch. He wore nothing under the faded jeans, and his shaft was clearly outlined. Her eyes followed the thick bulge which rose upwards and then curved to the right and down. She had imposed only one restriction upon her sexual activities and that was never to sleep with the help, but there was that strange aura which hung about the day. Without lifting her eyes from Tom's crotch, she said, "You don't wear underwear, do you?"
"No," he answered. He dropped the hose which jerked wildly for a moment and then settled behind the rhododendrons. Tom's right hand reached down and slowly cradled the bulge in his pants. "It makes the broads hot," he said. He smiled at her. His eyes were half-closed, and he brushed his fingertips back and forth along his cock.
"How is it we've never fucked? You've been here flaunting that thing for five months now." Her coolness amazed her. He was too arrogant, too cock sure. She mustn't let him know how much she suddenly wanted to have that cock rammed up her cunt. He mustn't know unless, of course, that was what was needed to have him.
"I knew you'd get around to it sooner or later. You want it?" He continued to smile at her as he slowly unzipped his fly. He withdrew his hand and crossed his arms on his chest His pants were too tight to fall down even though his fly was completely unzipped. She could see the mass of chestnut-colored pubic hair and the thick base of his cock before it vanished into the material. "Well, you want it?" he asked, rocking his body forward slightly.
"You want me to beg, don't you?" she asked. "That's how you get your kicks. Making the great ladies of Hillsborough crawl on their knees for your meat"
"Well, you could start by crawling on your knees to eat me," he said.
There was no doubt the dude was gorgeous, and Veronica was hot But he was too secure in the knowledge of her desire. I'll get you, you bastard.
Veronica turned on her heels and walked behind the bushes. She threw off the peignoir with one movement and waited for him to follow. With no protection at all she felt the slight chill of the early morning, and the ground was wet from the running hose. He sauntered around the corner, his fly still unzipped, and stood in front of her. She wondered if he could detect her excitement, if he knew that she must have that cock at any cost.
"On your knees," he said.
Veronica obeyed with a faint smile. She reached forward to pull his cock out of his pants, but he quickly covered the growing bulge with his hand.
"You want it?" he demanded.
"Goddamn it, yes!"
"What for, babe?"
Veronica took a deep breath and riveted her eyes on the base of his shaft. She was determined to have that cock, and she would play the game his way until he...
"I want to eat it and then get fucked by it," she said.
"Are you good?"
"There's one way to find out," she snapped almost losing control. "That is, if you've really got the balls to find out."
She had scored a point. Without questioning Ms precious masculine image, she had nevertheless expressed a doubt about his ability to act. It was a challenge. His hand withdrew from protecting the bulge, and she reached inside. She put her hand around the shaft and pulled it out of the pants. Her chest heaved with excitement He was huge. Even though he wasn't fully erected, his cock was at least seven inches long. She began to stroke it with her hand.
"In your mouth," he said. "Let it get hard in your mouth."
Veronica took the half-hard prick into her mouth and gently moved her tongue around, savoring the slight salty taste of fresh perspiration clinging to the pubic hair. Then she reached behind and pushed his pants over the slim cheeks of his ass and pushed them down to his ankles. With her right hand, she began to stroke his ass, running her fingers lightly over the skill. With the other hand, she cupped his smooth balls and squeezed them. She looked up at him. He was standing with his hands on his hips, smiling down at her with satisfaction.
The cock began to expand la her mouth until there wasn't room enough for her tongue to move freely. The cock moved with a life of its own, suddenly pushing forcefully against the back of her mouth. Veronica tilted her head back slightly and the determined cock slid easily down her throat As the huge tool moved down her throat, Veronica ran her forefinger down the crack between the cheeks of his ass and probed the opening of his rectum.
"Christ, the whole fucking thing," he groaned. He began to rock back and forth on his heels, slowly withdrawing the thick piece of meat Bad! the head nearly slipped from her mouth and then pushing it back down her throat.
Veronica's neck began to ache from the strain of being bent back to accommodate the probing cock which was fully expanded now. She judged it to be at least nine niches. We could have such a fucking good time, if you weren't so hung up on your prick. He began to thrust into her mouth more violently now, and she began to feel slightly sick to her stomach.
"Let me fuck you," he said suddenly.
Veronica drew back and the enormous prick fell from her mouth. She watched it jerk upwards, thick and smooth, pulling against gravity. She leaned forward again and, pushing his cock to one side, greedily licked his balls. She took them both into her swollen mouth and gently probed them with her teeth. He shivered. Her right hand followed the spasm as it passed from the small of his back up into his shoulder blades.
"Come on," he said gruffly. "Let's fuck!"
She rocked back on her haunches. "Yes," she said, her chest heaving with excitement "Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me now!"
She stood up and stretched voluptuously. "Let me get on top," she said. "It's the only way the whole thing could ever get inside."
He bent down to undo his sandals and kick off the jeans which she had lowered to his ankles.
"No," she whispered quickly and massaged her tits. "I can't wait even that long. Fuck me now. Hurry!
Her desperation obviously pleased him. She sensed Mm swell with pride and gratification. She wondered . what it was like to get one's self-identity exclusively from a huge dick.
The lower half of her legs were covered with mud from the hose which he had neglected to turn off. Although she was aware that the ground had become muddy, he was too hot and too puffed up with ego to notice. He lay down on his back in the mud.
"Ride it, babe."
"You bet I will," she said. For all ifs worth.
Veronica straddled his hips, nearly slipping in the mud, and lowered herself carefully. He raised his head. With his right hand he grabbed the base of his cock and placed the other hand on her right hip. When the tip of his cock was positioned at the opening of her cunt, he smiled and lay back.
"Now, babe! Now!"
Veronica let herself drop onto him with all her force. He gasped as if the wind had been knocked out of him, and she felt the powerful shaft rip up the walls of her vagina with a furious force until she was completely impaled on the dick. She felt his balls slap up against the cheeks of her ass and then he began to rock beneath her.
Veronica leaned forward and ran her hands along his chest, manipulating his taut, hairy nipples between the thumb and forefinger of each hand. But he was too involved in his own pleasure to reciprocate, so she removed her hands and brought them to her own aching tits. She threw her head back and rocked back and forth on his shaft as if she were riding a wild horse. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."
He was very excited,, jerking his body frantically beneath the weight of her hot flesh. His forehead broke out in beads of perspiration, and he rocked his head sideways into the mod. Veronica knew how to torn him on. She could torn on any man by figuring out their game and playing it to a certain point The humiliation he had made her pot up with had almost been worth the pleasure she now experienced. The watts of her vagina sucked at the probing shaft and every nerve in her body seemed to be concentrated on the hot sensation. His hands grabbed the cheeks of her ass roughly and he began to lift her and drop her onto his cock again and again. He was moaning and Veronica sensed that he had completely given himself up to the pleasure of fucking her. But Veronica knew that, although his passion was now beyond his control, he wasn't ready to come yet His ego demanded that he prolong die moment as long as possible.
Veronica knew how to make it last, too. But she also had the control necessary to bring herself swiftly to completion. She had had too much experience ripping off quick pieces of ass in dangerous places under George's nose not to know how to control her body. She didn't want it to end so soon with Tom, but the bastard had humiliated her or had tried to humiliate her. He had to pay. She concentrated on her own climax, rocking her body to extract the most pleasure from the prick and squeezing her tits roughly. She felt the walls of her vagina tighten around the cock with one exquisite movement and then the spasm passed quickly through her entire body. She gasped and, letting go of her tits, fell forward as wave after wave of spasm rocked her pleasure. She gasped and opened her eyes. Tom, too, was close.
Although she wanted desperately to feel the force of his load slam up the walls of her vagina, Veronica forced herself to swing off his prostrate body and stood up. She stood over him, her pussy dripping onto his cock which was suddenly and frantically jerking up and down. He looked up at her with a pleading look. "I haven't come yet," he gasped with a heavy breath.
"Then eat yourself," she snarled and stepped away quickly. Grabbing up her muddy peignoir, she stepped clear of the bushes. He half sat up as if to lunge for her, but his pants were still twisted about his ankles and he slipped in the mud. Realizing why she had insisted he not remove his trousers, he screamed. "You dirty bitch."
"Two can play the game, mother fucker," she smiled.
He was too young, too inexperienced and much too close to climax to control himself. He fell back with a groan and brought his hand to the twitching cock. Veronica watched as the cock stiffened and expanded painfully. Then the hot load of come began to spurt upwards, splattering onto his constricted chest. She shuddered with pleasure at the sight. She would have loved to have experienced that hot liquid inside her pussy. While he was still in the throes of helplessly spurting come onto his chest, Veronica quickly bent down and picked up the hose. She turned I He was too weak to resist.
Too bad. But a lady has to have some principles.
The day had begun.
Veronica was still smiling when she strutted into the master bedroom. George had kicked off the covers and was lying sprawled on his stomach. It was for just such a sight that she had convinced him to sleep nude. He looked so beautiful and so vulnerable, lying there naked with his firm ass and his hairy balls exposed. She wondered if he had an erection, if one of those wonderful, raging morning hard-ons was digging into his tanned stomach. I hope so. I hope it's good and hard for Mama this morning. I'll find out soon enough.
But first she needed a shower, andthere was still at least another hour to go before it was time to wake George. She walked into the bathroom and, slipping off the wet and muddy peignoir, tossed it into the corner. She hesitated for a moment, bent to pick up the garment and stuff it into the clothes hamper and then decided to leave it on the floor.
Veronica, what are you doing? George would shit if he saw that peignoir.
But Veronica really bad no taste for reflection upon her actions. "Oh, what the hell," she muttered out loud and, dismissing the gown from her mind, she turned to consider a much more appealing reflection: that of her own body in the bathroom mirror. There was no doubt Veronica was a beauty. Thick black hair, tousled and matted from the morning romp in the mud, fell upon her smooth shoulders. Black eyes, too. Large black eyes set off by a complexion which was dangerously close to olive. Several generations back some Italian blood had slipped into her family accidentally via the servant's quarters, and it had suddenly manifested itself in the face and body of Veronica. The face of a sulky angel, and a voluptuous body made for pleasure.
Veronica's mother had been horrified by the dark sensuality of the child, and she had never once let Veronica forget that Italian blood flowed in her veins and that it was evil, low-class blood. Her mother had said, "Well, I suppose it's all right if you just look like one of them. I just hope you don't start acting like them. You know how they are!" It had never occurred to Veronica (or, apparently, to her mother) that they both shared the same blood. And Veronica hadn't, as a matter-of-fact, known in the least how they were. But she found out, filled with stories of wild sexual promiscuity by her classmates. And, like a dutiful and a hateful daughter, she became the physical embodiment of her mother's deepest fears. Tough shit.
Veronica stepped into the shower and let the hot water spray over her body. She still tingled from the exertion and the excitement of jumping up from Tom's thick shaft so soon after she had rocked with spasmodic ecstasy. She soaped herself thoroughly and wished Tom had been sensual enough to use his hands on her as she now used them on herself. What a magnificent cock. If I were a man, I'd probably turn queer out of sheer love for thick, throbbing cocks.
She dried herself and walked naked back into the bedroom. George was still asleep. She sat at the vanity and began to brush the snarls out of her hair, staring all the while at his naked body. He's so fucking beautiful. George, I love you. George.
Veronica did love George or was, at least, convinced she loved him. That was something she simply had to cope with. She was plagued with doubts about his love, however. He never tried to control her in any way. Of course, he would be furious if he ever found out about her sexual escapades. She felt sure it would hurt him deeply, but she continued to take risks. She continued to get herself fucked by just about any stud who wanted her, and she frequently got fucked right under George's nose. Veronica, you are a fool. But she had always rationalized all the others on the grounds that she loved only George. The others were just fucks. They had nothing to do with George and her. But, still and all, she took incredible risks getting those studs to bang her, knowing that it would hurt George. This afternoon, of course, with the sex fair, would be the greatest risk yet. She sighed.
George had been her first piece of ass. Her very first. At a time when all her sorority sisters had long since learned to grit their teeth and bear it, Veronica had clung to her virginity out of fear that her mother's fears would prove to be justified. But her classmates all talked about it at such great lengths. She had felt left out on two counts: her big tits and her virginity. Finally on the night of her sorority's senior dance, Veronica had said to her roommate, "Damn it, Josie, I'm going to get fucked tonight"
And Josie, wise Josie, had shrugged her shoulders and said, "Well you ought to do something with If before it rots."
She and George had met that night She had been determined. George had been nervous and shy. She remembered gasping with fear when he had pulled his cock out of his pants. But he fucked the shit out of me in the bock seat of that old Pontiac. Fucked me with a vengeance. George bad, indeed, fucked her royally, and her fear vanished within minutes after that big cock had been implanted in her tight little pussy. They had been too young for any preliminaries, too young even to bother getting undressed. Fully clothed, with George's cock sticking out of his opened fly and her gown pulled up around her waist, they had lost their virginity together. She had lain back while her body had rocked with George's awkward thrusts and had experienced a strange thrill to realize her mother had been right all along. She was, indeed, a bad girl. George had obviously been as pleased as she was, because they were married within one month. Veronica still loved him, had never loved anyone else. And, besides being her first lay, he was still the best.
George moved slightly on the bed. Veronica, always alert for this sort of thing, turned around and looked at him. Yes, his pelvis had thrust slightly into the mattress. He's got a hard-on! She felt the blood rush to her face, stinging her ears, and her heart began to beat faster. Christ, he makes me so fucking hot.
Veronica walked over to the bed and looked down at George's ass. In his sleep he pushed into the mattress again. She imagined the stiff cock, pressed between his stomach and the mattress. She gently crawled onto her knees between George's sprawled legs and looked down at the heavy sac lying on the white sheets. Slowly, so as not to awaken him too quickly, Veronica separated the cheeks of his ass. Then she leaned forward and gently brushed the puckered pink bud of his ass-hole with her tongue. Then she licked it a few times until George began to stir and moan softly. When she knew he was half awake, she spread his cheeks enough to allow her tongue to plunge into his ass-hole. He moaned in his throat and lifted his ass to meet her probing tongue. She plunged in and out quickly like a hummingbird drinking nectar. Then she ran her tongue down to his balls and sucked on them, savoring fully the morning smell of George. He lifted his ass again, and she knew he wanted her tongue up his ass again. She responded to his wish immediately, licking furiously at the pink, twitching membrane. Her tongue began to ache from being extended and from thrusting forward with such force.
Then, flinging one leg over her, George rolled onto his back. Lifting his head with one arm, he smiled down at her, and, grabbing onto his throbbing cock with his free hand, he said, "Here, if you want something to eat."
Her breasts heaved with pleasure and excitement She took the base of the thick shaft in her hand and began to tease the head of Ms cock with her tongue. Then she slipped her tongue between the foreskin and the head and ran it back and forth.
"Jesus," he cried out and jerked his head forward.
His pleasure excited her tremendously. She was accustomed to George. She had, in fact, taught him many things, and she knew exactly what to do to drive him wild with pleasure. She looked at the thick seven inches with a shiver of delight before sinking her mouth over it George grabbed onto the side of her head and held her firmly. He began shoving his cock in and out of her month. He rolled onto his side and, holding her head firmly between his thighs, began fucking her in the mouth, moaning softly all the time. Veronica's eyes began to water and she felt a mucous forming in her nostrils. Saliva trickled out of her mouth onto his balls and ran down the side of his face. Reaching behind him, she forced her hand through his thighs and grabbed onto his moist balls, smearing them with the saliva which ran from the corner of her mouth.
George unclamped his thighs and said, "Let's fuck, Ron."
She looked up between his legs and smiled.
"Come on, Ron. But let me juice it up first"
He rolled onto his back, and his cock, slippery and rock hard, brushed her cheek. She got onto her knees and moved slowly over George's body, brushing the shaft of his cock with her now aching pussy. She continued moving up, brushing his stomach and then his nipples with her body. Then she was kneeling over his face and gently lowering her pussy to his waiting mouth. George closed his eyes and gently ran his tongue over the quivering lips of her cunt. She shuddered and threw her head back, relishing the electric current that passed from George's tongue up the walls of her pussy and throughout her body. Her senses were keenly alive. Even the sudden trickle of perspiration running down her side filled her with delight.
George began to eat her in earnest, his strong tongue flicking into her cunt and pressing against her clit. She jerked her pussy into his face and moaned with pleasure. George opened his eyes and looked up at her. She watched his tongue lunging in and out of her molten tunnel, and she shivered.
"George," she whispered, "I love to see you eat my cunt"
Then she rolled off George and lay down on her back beside him. George was immediately on top of her, licking her swollen nipples.
"Harder, George," she murmured, and she immediately felt the slight pressure of his teeth chewing her tits. She was in ecstasy. She reached down and took George's cock into her hand and squeezed it. "Your cock, George. Give me your cock."
"Glad to oblige," he answered with a thickened voice.
He got onto his knees between her spread legs and looked down at her hot pussy. "Looks juicy enough to me," he moaned. "Nice and juicy." Then he lifted her legs and positioned the pulsating and thick head of his cock for entry into her constricting cunt.
She raised her hips to meet his thrust and murmured, "All at once, George. Give it to me all at once."
He released his hand and crammed his cock into her to the hilt. They crashed together, and there was a loud smacking sound as his balls, wet with her saliva, dammed up against the cheeks of her ass. He hesitated for a minute before beginning to pump heir slowly and smoothly.
Veronica began to go wild with pleasure. She scratched his back and then with both hands cupped the cheeks of his ass. For a moment she had a glimpse of their reflection in the vanity mirror. She watched with excitement as the firm muscular cheeks of George's ass contracted and relaxed with each and every beautiful thrust into her slit. Then she moaned and completely gave herself up to the pleasure of the moment Her cunt was like a furnace, alternately retreating from and rushing forward to meet the driving thrusts of the rock-hard cock. George was working her for all she was worth, and she felt perspiration from his forehead drop onto her face. She drew him closer to her and sank her teeth into his shoulder. Then her spasms began, contracting about and squeezing George's tool. Then George began to moan, and he began to pump load after load of hot come into her. The walls of her vagina continued to contract wildly, draining the cock of an its fluid. Then they clung together as the final waves of release and pleasure shuddered through their bodies.
Then they lay beside each other, gasping for breath. She sat up and buried her face in his crotch. A pale cream-colored drop oozed from the now flaccid dick, a drop of the precious come which her frantically contracting muscles had failed to extract from him. She lapped ft up greedily and buried her nose in his wet balls. Then she sat up and smiled.
"Good to the last drop," she said.
George grinned at her. He was a handsome man. Salt and pepper hair, straight white teeth, hazel eyes and a perfectly straight nose. And a trim body, kept in shape by swimming and exercise.
"Who would ever suspect," he said, "the respected Mrs. Wainwright of being such a good piece of ass."
Veronica sat up and tossed her hair. "Somebody told me once that every man-likes to eat with a lady sleep with a whore."
"Oh?" He pinched her gently. "There are some who like to eat whores, you know."
"That's okay," she replied. "There are some women who get the roles mixed up. All works out in the end."
They laughed together and she felt good to be with him. Tom flashed into her mind, but she pushed him away without any difficulty. "It's French movie time," she said and reached for the cigarettes. In the beginning they had always lain side by side after sex, smoking cigarettes and staring at the ceiling. She had remarked once that they looked like a scene from a French movie, and the expression had become one of those things people sometimes share.
"Sorry, Ron, but I've got to leave early to catch that plane."
"Can't you send someone else?" She was not pretending. He seldom went on business trips, usually sending junior men in his place, but she did not like him to go away at all. She felt somehow abandoned.
He sighed and pushed himself up onto his elbows. "I've got to go myself," he said. "It's a very sticky deal."
She readied out and took his balls in her hand, "So're your balls," she said.
She expected him to playfully ion his hand through her hair or to nudge her. But he did nothing in response to her joke. He merely climbed out of bed and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. For a minute she began to wonder if she had done something wrong. Then she shrugged her shoulders and lit a cigarette.
When she heard the shower being turned on, Veronica jumped out of bed and pulled on a heavy quilted robe. She went through the living room into the kitchen. John was beginning preparations for breakfast.
"Good morning, John."
"Good morning, Mrs. Wainwright." He looked up and smiled, ever ready to serve. It was a good thing he was old and ugly. Having men in the house who were both young and willing to serve could create all kinds of problems. She had made the rule never to shack up with die help, but, knowing her weakness, she had deliberately hired men who were old and ugly. Tom was the only young man around and George had insisted on hiring him over Veronica's objections. That was odd now that she reflected upon it. George never interfered with running the household. Hiring and managing the staff had always been her chore. Well, George may have hired him but I was the one who fucked him.
"John, I have a few instructions. First of all, dismiss Tom. Give him whatever is customary and tell him he is dismissed. I want him gone within the hour."
"Yes, Mrs. Wainwright." His face was a mask. "If he asks for a reason?"
Veronica stared at John. How much do you know or guess, you dumb shit?
"It would be just like him to ask for a reason," she said finally. Tell him his arrogance offends me. That should be quite sufficient."
"Very well, Mrs. Wainwright"
"Also, Mr. Wainwright won't have time for breakfast, and will only be wanting some coffee. As you know Mr. Wainwright will be away for the next few days. You and the rest of the staff may have the time off."
"But Mr. Wainwright made it very clear that we were not to leave you alone during his absence because of the rapist-murderer."
Veronica stared at John again. Maybe she should get him in bed, after all, and knock the impertinence out of him. Taking a deep bream to make her displeasure apparent to him, she said, "Not that it is any of your business, John, but I'll be going into San Francisco during Mr. Wainwright's absence. You are all to go."
John was making her nervous. You'd think the old fart would be glad for a few days to visit whoever the hell it was he visited.
"But Mrs. Wainwright..." he began to protest.
"Goddamn it, John, you make me lose my temper! I said everyone is to go. Now I want everyone, including Tom, out of here within the hour. Is that perfectly clear?"
"Yes, Mrs. Wainwright. You'll lock up?"
"Do you think I'm capable, John?" she asked sarcastically. Then she turned on her heels and left the kitchen.
When she returned to the bedroom George was just coming out of the bathroom. His naked body was reddened from being rubbed.
"George," she said, "did you dry properly behind the balls?" And she put her hand on his warm balls, squeezing them gently. George had the biggest balls she had ever seen, but, of course, she couldn't tell him she had actually seen the balls of other men. He moved away from her quickly, and she realized that he looked disturbed. "George, what is it?"
"Nothing, Ron. I just don't have time to get horny again, bang the shit out of you and take another shower." There was a strange edge to his voice.
Veronica lit a cigarette and sat on the edge of the bed. She watched him through a cloud of smoke as he dressed. He had the wonderful habit of putting on his shirt, first, and she loved to see his thick cock dangling out between the starched shirttails. She wanted to push back the foreskin and take the pink head between her lips.
"George," she said suddenly, "I wish you wouldn't go." Veronica, you are such an ass. What is wrong with you?
George walked across the room and stood in front of her. He looked down with concern and look her head between his hands. "It's a very important deal. I to go to Boston personally. What's bothering you?'!
"Nothing," she whispered and lowered her head to stare at his flaccid dick protruding from the shirt tails. George, I want to suck your dick. I want to take your cock in my mouth and suck it. She didn't move, however.
"Now, Ron," he said. "Is it that rapist-murderer? I specifically ordered John and the entire staff to stay here at all times while I'm gone."
"The rapist-murderer?" She looked up from the cock dangling before her eyes and for a reckless moment fought the strange and maddening impulse to laugh. "No, darling," she said quickly. "Hurry now or you'll miss the plane. But before you go..." and, reaching forward quickly, she brushed the head of his prick with her mouth.
He turned away quickly and, as he did, she thought she heard him mutter something.
George finished dressing quickly. She handed him his briefcase and walked him to the garage. Just as George was getting into the car, she saw Tom driving his motorcycle down the driveway. He slammed on the brakes and openly flipped her the finger. Up your ass, you creep! George apparently had not seen Tom's gesture of farewell. He smiled op at her. "Ciao," he said.
"Ciao, darling." She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Call me?"
"Sure." And he drove away.
Veronica sighed and walked into the kitchen through the back door. "Haven't you gone yet?" she snapped when she saw John.
"Just leaving, Mrs. Wainwright. Just leaving."
"And the others?"
"Oh, they were very pleased to have the extra time off, Mrs. Wainwright. They've all gone. Now, you're sure there's nothing I can do before I leave?"
Will he never leave me in peace? Can't the dumb, smiling piece of shit see I want to be left along? Maybe he's waiting for a piece of ass, Christ, it would kill him.
"No, John. There's nothing."
"Very well," he said and turned towards the door, clutching the paper bag which she suddenly realized contained his toothpaste and underwear. He seemed genuinely sorry there was nothing more he could do to be of service.
The poor ballless bastard.
"John," she said suddenly.
He turned eagerly, all smiles.
"John, I didn't mean to snap at you. Enjoy your time off."
"Thank you, Mrs. Wainwright. Thank you very much."
Veronica moved quickly once John was out of sight. Going into the bedroom, she threw the quilted robe onto the floor and slipped into a fresh peignoir. Then she poured out a cup of coffee and, leaning forward, quickly blew out the pilot light.
After telephoning the utility company she sat down to glance through the paper. The headline read:
RAPIST-MURDERER CLAIMS FIFTH.
CHAPTER TWO
George parked the car and hurried towards the terminal. He felt disgusted with himself. He had lied to Veronica for the first tone. That she lied to him constantly made absolutely no difference to George. If he had lied, his lies were those of omission. Now he had violated a strong principle. He did not have to go to Boston. The deal could have easily been handled over the telephone. The fact was that he wanted to go to Boston for a very different and for a far more pressing reason. He had even lied about his flight He still had two hours, two hours he had to have to be alone and to think.
He went into the restaurant and ordered coffee, waiting patiently until it was served. Then at last there was nothing to stand between him and the thoughts which had been increasingly demanding his attention, the thoughts which caused him at last to lie to the woman who made falsity a way of life. His hand trembled as he lifted it to his chin. It was Philip.
Two days earlier Veronica had been getting herself fucked by a kid gas station attendant while he, George, waited in the car. He was, of course, supposed to be ignorant of the situation. He got a hard-on while he waited, imagining her experience. It was then, while sitting in the car with a hard-on, that the memory of Philip had suddenly popped into his mind. After all these years the memory had crane out of nowhere. He had tried to push it away, to put it back into the forgotten past where it belonged. But he could not shake the memory.
George had belonged to the fraternity on campus, the most prestigious and the most corrupt group of young men at Stalmouth University. Incoming freshmen in the fraternity had been assigned by lottery to senior men. The freshman and the senior had then roomed together, and the freshman had been responsible for keeping the room clean, running errands and generally acting the slave to the senior's master. It went far beyond that, of course. The freshman had also had to suck off the senior to whom he had been assigned. At any time during the year that the senior had wanted a blow job or even a hand job, his freshman had been obliged to service him. George had been Philip's freshman.
Philip had been kind enough about it In some respects. He had helped keep the room clean and had run his own errands. He had, in fact, been the ideal roommate. Nor had he submitted George to some of the indignities other seniors inflicted upon their freshmen. Philip had never even suggested fucking George in die ass, for instance. But he had asked George to blow him at least once each week. Knowing he had had to do it and knowing that everyone else had also been doing it had somehow taken the sting out of it. No, it had not been having to do or even doing it that had stung so sharply, but that he had liked doing it George had liked blowing Philip. And on several occasions Philip had stroked George's cock while George sucked him off. He had liked it!
He remembered Philip stretched out on his back, Ms cock like polished pink marble straining to stand upright above die soft mass of blond pubic hair. He remembered lying on his stomach between Philip's legs, sucking at the prick, and stealing looks op at Philip's flat stomach, his heaving chest, his head thrown back with the lips slightly parted in a lost, dreamy smile. He had actually liked eating Philip's cock and beating himself off. Dear God!
George had been a virgin at that time. As he had slowly come to recognize that he enjoyed blowing Philip, he had begun to question his masculinity. He was well built and was good at all sports. There had been nothing at all effeminate about him, but it had begun to occur to him that he was queer. Philip had apparently begun to suspect it, too. On the night before the dance at Veronica's sorority, Philip had wanted a blow job. He had told George he had wanted him to swallow his load that night and not spit it out the window as he had usually done.
"I want you to drink it, George," he had said.
"I'll try," George had whispered. "I'll try."
He had begun to suck Philip slowly, realizing and for all that he had enjoyed doing it Philip been more obviously responsive than usual. He had begun to writhe upon the bed. Suddenly he had grabbed onto the side of George's head and pushed it down over the entire length of his cock. George had not been prepared and had begun to choke on Philip's throbbing cock. Then Philip had released him and, lifting George's head up in his hands, he had said, "You like it, don't you?" His voice had sounded menacing. It had been un-like Philip to be rough.
George had felt himself flush. He looked down at the throbbing piece of meat. "Yes," he had whispered. "Yes. I like it."
"Cocksucker," Philip had snarled, his beautifully chiseled face suddenly ugly with contempt and disgust. "Eat me, then. Eat that fucking cock."
George had sucked furiously, taking the entire length of Philip's dick into his mouth easily. Philip's body stiffened. Clamping George's head onto his prick, he had cried out more loudly than ever before and had pumped wave after wave of molten come into George's mouth... George had begun to choke, frantically working his throat muscles to swallow the thick load which had threatened to suffocate him. When the last of the spasms had passed through his body, Philip had released his hold on the back of George's head, In a hoarse voice, he said, "You don't have to swallow it, kid."
But it had been too late. George had swallowed it. He had forgotten the command. He had begun to swallow the load to keep from suffocating but, in the end, he had swallowed Philip's come because he had wanted stood up and walked across the room, pretending to spit out the window. Then he had sat down, stunned and frightened. Philip had rolled onto his side, facing the wall. George had looked at the sloping back with a mixture of contempt and affection. He had wanted to lie beside Philip and beg his forgiveness.
The dormitory walls were very thin. The senior next door banged on the wall and shouted, "Hey, Phil, how about loaning me your frosh? He sounds like a good one." Then there had been a burst of laughter which had masked the sudden sound of a sob which burst from George's throat.
Convinced that he had been queer, George had decided to give himself one more chance. And the next night at the dance he had met Veronica, by far the most sexually desirable woman at the dance. Who better to give him back his masculinity than a super sexy woman? Who better to make him feel human again.
"They had been attracted to each other instantly. As they danced he had tried to concentrate on her cleavage and had deliberately avoided contact with Philip. It had surprised him most of all that a woman who looked as fast as Veronica had been a virgin. He had expected her to be knowledgeable, to have had the experience necessary to give him his masculinity. Instead, she had given him her cherry and that, more than anything, had restored his sense of worth. Their fuck had been violent as if both of them had been determined to give the other the fuck of their life. Her wide black eyes had swollen with slight alarm when he roughly pulled his demanding cock out of his pants. Her slight fear, too, had reassured him that he was a man. He had succeeded. She, the superwoman, had proven to him that he was every inch a man. He had been able to face Philip with level eyes.
With only two weeks left to school, he and Veronica had become engaged almost immediately. He had needed to have her forever as the badge of his masculinity. But if George had recovered his poise, Philip-had not been able to look him straight in the eyes during their last two weeks. Nor had he asked George to blow him again. One night George had awakened from sleep to find Philip standing naked over his bed staring down at him. For one moment he had almost reached out to pull Philip towards him, but the moment had passed and Philip had turned away without ever knowing that George had been awake. And later that same night, George had heard the springs of Philip's bed sway. Silently holding his breath, he had listened to Philip jacking off.
Then Philip had graduated and left for graduate school at another university. He had not heard from nor had he seen Philip since that year at Stalmouth University when he had been Philip's freshman. He had not really thought of him. Veronica had continued to tell him in a million different ways that he was a man. He had had no doubts. Until the other day while he had waited for Veronica to get fucked in the gas station, Philip had been forgotten. And now Philip grew in George's mind like a voluptuous, cancerous flower.
George suddenly sat upright. The coffee was cold, but that wasn't what had startled him into awareness. He had a raging hard-on.
George forced his mind to concentrate. Slowly, the hard-on subsided, his cock withdrawing into the jockey shorts for the time being. He sighed and got up quickly. He left an outrageous tip as if to apologize for his thoughts and hurried from the restaurant. Just beyond the exit was a men's room and the sudden hard-on had left him with a need to urinate.
He pulled out his dick, which was passive now, and glanced down at it with a puzzled expression. He slipped the foreskin back and looked at the head. There was no sign at all of the frenzy which had possessed it a moment ago in the restaurant. He took a leak.
As George was shaking himself off, he became aware of someone standing at the opposite end of the row of urinals. He looked up. A young man caught his glance, smiled frankly and simply, then lowered his eyes, glancing briefly at George's cock as he did so. George suddenly understood that the clean-cut young man with the soft smile was in the men's room specifically to suck cock, that he wanted now to suck George off. He smiled and looked down at his cock. It swelled suddenly within his hand, throbbing again with the urgency he had felt in the restaurant, demanding quick release.
The young man moved over to George's side quickly and took the swollen cock into his hand. He squeezed it gently.
George's heart began to pound and his knees felt weak. He suddenly realized how dangerous it was, what an incredible risk both he and the young man with the gentle touch were running. But he did not turn away.
"Eat me, then," he said suddenly in a voice he hardly recognized as his own. "Eat that fucking cock."
And now, after all these years, he felt the exquisite triumph of Philip as the young man sank quickly onto his haunches and took George's aching member into his greedy mouth. In a moment, under the pressure of risk and from a fever pitch of excitement, he climaxed, roughly holding the young man's head clamped between his hands and ramming his cock all the way down his gasping throat. The young man began to gag and George quickly released him.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't mean..."
"It's okay," the young man answered. He quickly resumed his position at the opposite end of the urinals.
George went into a booth and wiped away as much saliva as possible with toilet tissue. Then he stuffed the satisfied cock back into his pants and pulled up the fly. As he began to leave the rest room, the young man smiled and said, "Come back when you can do it again."
George stared at him in disbelief, suddenly realizing the young man would probably stand there for hours, running the double risk of getting arrested and getting beaten, for no other reason than to suck cock. He smiled weakly and felt slightly sick. Then he left the rest room and walked into the crowd.
George was amazed at himself. Veronica usually took the juice out of him for a good twelve hours. And now suddenly, after a particularly passionate session with Veronica less than two hours earlier, he had dropped his load in a public toilet like a horny school kid. That was un-like him. Veronica's hot pussy had always completely satisfied his needs before.
And she had been hot that morning. He had wondered who she could possibly have been fucking that morning before waking him up. Seeing her peignoir in the bathroom later, he had realized she had finally screwed Tom. He had hired Tom himself, knowing the minute he laid eyes on him that sooner or later Veronica would get around to screwing with him. But Veronica had oddly not wanted to have Tom on the place. He had, however, been insistent. He was beginning to understand why.
George had known about Veronica's sexual habits for some time now. It had never bothered him except when she took risks which could socially ruin them. business, after all, depended upon a certain social age. At first he had merely looked the other way, pretending not to know from her loosened clothes or her flushed face that she had just ripped off another extramarital piece of ass. Then he had begun to wonder precisely why it did not disturb him. It seemed odd despite the fact that he never tried to consciously impose his standards on anyone else.
Several days ago, however, he had realized that, far from leaving him indifferent, her affairs had excited him all along. The realization had come to him during the same incident when the memory of Philip had suddenly flashed into his mind. Waiting there in the car with a hard-on, he had not only suddenly thought not only of Philip but had also thought of Veronica getting fucked by that young kid. And he had hardly been able to wait to get her home to fuck her senseless. Was it merely the thought of her getting racked that excited him or was it more than that? Before fucking her that afternoon, he had first juiced up her pussy. Had he merely been eating out her pussy?
George searched about for a bench and quickly sat down. He felt faint. The implications of his thoughts were screaming in his mind. He had not been merely tolerant, had not merely adopted a live-and-let-live attitude all these years of outrageous infidelity. Any other husband would have been jealous. At the very most another husband might be proud that so many other men wanted his wife. But George had actually been excited about it. A new knowledge crept into his awareness. No, he had not merely eaten Veronica's pussy two afternoon's ago. He had been sucking out of her the dregs of her hurried affair with the gas station attendant All these years, he had experienced all those men vicariously through Veronica.
A wave of disgust passed through George. His heart was pounding furiously.
Veronica the insatiable. Now it occurred to him, also for the first time, to question the cause of her infidelity to begin with. Perhaps she strayed not because she was a natural tramp but because he was not man enough to satisfy her. God, what kind of a man was he? Unable to please his wife, finding satisfaction in possessing her after other men had had her--he was BO man at all.
He leaned forward, overwhelmed with horror and disgust.
And the white lies he had told Veronica this morning and which had violated his precious principles. How could they even compare with the colossal lies he had fed Veronica and himself throughout their marriage?
"Sir? Are you okay, sir?"
He looked up. A stewardess was smiling her concerned smile at him. He wondered if she smiled the same careful way while she was getting fucked.
"Fine, thank you. The flight for Boston?"
"Gate 27, sir."
"Thank you."
George stood up. Determined to hide his shame, he held his head up and walked towards the gate. He hoped no one else could see through the exterior into the corrupt and hateful interior.
Philip's hometown had been Boston. Perhaps he still lived there. George had to confront him.
CHAPTER THREE
Veronica glanced through the society pages with a pout of slight disgust on her mouth. Neither she nor George were particularly interested in purely social functions, attending this or that affair only when specifically requested to do so by one of their families. She maintained it was all a sham, all those small breasted women eyeing each other's clothes while their husbands eyed Veronica's tits. Veronica was certainly a skilled liar, but she had always lied for a purpose. The sweet, simpering lying that went on at those functions was without purpose, was not even cleverly masked, and it sickened her. Besides, she had never really forgiven them for excluding her when she was young enough to want to belong to their world. Now big tits and olive skin were very chic. They had always been attractive to the men, of course, but the show was run by the ladies with small tits and plastic smiles. She dropped the newspaper on the floor and finished the cup of coffee.
She heard the utility company truck pull into the driveway. Although the company would certainly deny it, they always gave immediate service to the so-called better neighborhoods. The poor bastards in the less expensive neighborhoods had to take time off from work to sit around and wait for service. All she, Mrs. George Wainwright, had to do was place a telephone call, drink a cup of coffee and open the door. She was suddenly angry, about the society pages and about the speed with which she received service. Jesus, if I wasn't so busy getting fucked by every available man, I'd sure as hell join some committees for social reform. Well, there's still the sex fair. That's for a good cause.
She moved towards the window and leaned forward to catch a glimpse of the utility company man. If he wasn't too hot, she would change back into a quilted robe and get rid of bun quick. The man swung into view and Veronica gasped. Veronica, you've struck it rich. Look at that gorgeous stud. I want you to fuck me. Fuck me. Oh, God, how I want you to fuck me. Her breath quickened.
The man moved up the driveway with a solid gait. He had thick, blond hair, brae eyes, and a thick sensual mouth framed by a curly blond mustache. His body was tight. She liked the way the low-slung utility belt pushed the bulge in his pants up and out, and she quickly estimated he had a good piece of meat to implant in her hungry cunt. She walked towards the kitchen door and opened it, allowing her transparent peignoir to fall slightly open as if blown free of her grasp by the wind.
He looked up and smiled warmly. She could tell that, although young, he was no fool. He had assessed the situation in a minute. He placed his hands loosely on his hips, his eyes half-closed against the glare of the morning sun.
"Morning," he said.
"Hello," she said. With a smile, she coyly drew the peignoir about her neck. He followed her into the kitchen.
"What seems to be the trouble?" he asked.
She turned around and faced him. He was still smiling, and for a moment she felt slightly foolish. She wondered if she should have been at least partly dressed so that he could have had the pleasure of undressing her, of hooking the fingers of his massive hands into the elastic band of her panties and ripping them from her. Perhaps he, too, was laughing at her. Perhaps it would have been more exciting for him to guess at the contours of her body. Veronica, however, never entertained second thoughts for very long. Hell, any man who doesn't want me is either a tool or a queer.
She lifted her head and looked him straight in the eye. His right hand had moved from his hip and he had hooked his thumb into the low-slung utility belt so the palm gently brushed against the lump in his trousers. She saw the hand move slightly and knew he was getting a hard-on. A thrill shot through her. Victory.
"I need service," she said in a voice which was deliberately calm to cover her mounting excitement.
"So do I, babe. So do I." His voice was slow, almost lazy. He walked towards her slowly, smiling still, and slipped his strong arms about her waist. She reacted to his masterful touch as if it were an electric current, stiffening with a slight shiver, then she settled back into the cradle of his arms. His mouth settled onto hers. His tongue slipped through her parted lips and slowly explored the corners of her mouth. She thrilled to his strength. He was the kind of man to whom a woman could give complete control. The buckle of his utility belt dug into her flesh and, beneath the belt, she felt the full force of his enormous prick straining against the constricting material of his pants.
As he kissed her, his hands began to move along the small of her back. They were hot, strong hands, and she squirmed slightly beneath his touch. The hot hands moved around towards her front and brushed over her quivering stomach as they rose to cup her breasts. He opened the peignoir, drew it over her shoulders and let it drop onto the floor. Veronica now stood completely naked before him. She was alone in the house with the powerful man. Her nakedness increased her sense of vulnerability. Her breasts began to quiver with excited anticipation of the pleasures to come.
He stood back and looked at her magnificent, heaving tits. Then he took one tit in each hand and began to massage the nipples with his thumb and forefinger. The brown nipples began to harden beneath his sure touch.
"Suck them," she whispered. "It drives me wild." She put her right hand onto the back of his head, lacing her fingers into the thick, curly hair, and brought his head forward towards her right tit. His mouth opened slightly as he came forward and the thick sensual lips closed about her nipple. He ran his tongue around the outer rim of the nipple, moving closer and closer to the hardened nub at the center. When he reached the stiff center, his mouth closed over it and she moaned softly at the slight touch of his teeth. Then he took as much of the tit into his mouth as he could and massaged the quivering flesh with his mouth, Using his hand to aid the oral stimulation. Veronica moaned and held tightly onto the back of his head.
"That's it," she whispered. "You know how to lick tits."
He released her right tit and began to ran his tongue along her tit towards the cleavage, slowly approaching the other nipple and leaving a thin trail of saliva along her heaving chest. He was a man who knew how to take pleasure slowly, how to squeeze the most out of a woman's body.
Veronica was less patient. She was already becoming wild. She moaned deeply.
"Eat my pussy," she said. "Eat my pussy like you eat my tits."
He drew his mouth away and smiled. Placing Ms hands on her hips, he easily lifted her off the floor and set her down on top of the clothes dryer. The cheeks of her ass shivered upon contact with the cold metal, but that, too, added to her pleasure and she made no protest. She was in the hands of a very capable man. She had not even seen his cock yet, but she had already become aware he could do anything he wanted with her.
He got onto his knees before the clothes dryer and separated her legs with his strong hands. He lowered his head and she felt the strong tongue run around the lips of her cunt. Again and again, his tongue traced her vulva until Veronica cried out and, grabbing onto the back of his head, forced the probing tongue to sink into her tunnel. Responding to her demands, the tongue flickered in and out quickly. He had a strong tongue, strong and powerful. It pushed against her hardened clit. Veronica gasped with pleasure. She looked down at him. His face was buried-in her pussy, the blond hair of his mustache enmeshed with the black pubic hair which had become matted with his saliva and sweat from his forehead.
He drew away and smiled at her constricting cunt "Now I'll fuck you," he said.
He stepped back and began to undress. He knew how to please a woman, how to work a woman up to such a fever pitch that he could do anything to her. Most men were too foolish or too vain to realize that a fully aroused woman gave more pleasure to a man. This man, however, knew how to bring a woman to the brink of ecstasy, how to tantalize her until she completely abandoned herself to sensation.
He was going to undress before her, slowly reveal to her the body which would soon be entwined with her own. He quickly undid his shirt and, pulling it free of his trousers, tossed it onto the floor. Then he removed his work boots and socks. He acted as if he were unaware of her presence, but Veronica sensed that he was acutely aware of her panting on top of the clothes dryer. His vanity did not offend her. It was not conceit which motivated him, but a confidence that the sight of his body could sustain and enhance the excitement which his tongue had begun.
He unbuckled the utility belt and the bulge in his pants, given slightly more room, surged forward to fill up the space. He ran his hand slowly over the bulge and looked up at her. "That's all going to be yours, little lady. Every hot, throbbing inch."
His performance was certainly having the intended result. Veronica's mouth was half-opened and she felt her heart thudding against her chest. She squirmed and realized that the metal of the clothes dryer was becoming damp beneath the hot flesh of her ass. She was wild to see the instrument of her pleasure.
"Oh, I want it so bad," she whispered. "So fucking bad."
"You'll get it," he said. "Dick is going to really lay it on you."
He unzipped his fly and let his pants fall down about his ankles. His swollen cock struggled against the cotton jockey shorts so they stood out from his body. There was a spreading stain where the lubricant had already begun to seep in expectation. Then he came forward, moving his muscular bronze body with an easy masculine grace.
"The rest is for you."
Veronica was now raging with lust for his code. She got onto her knees quickly and pulled the jockey shorts out and down so his huge cock swung free and stuck her across the face. It was thick, about eight inches long, with a throbbing purplish head. She looked at the large head, knew that at the moment of climax it would expand even more against the walls of her cunt, and she groaned with pleasure. Her tongue flickered forward to catch the sticky drop of lubricant which hung from the slit of his cock in a transparent thread. She felt him shiver beneath the touch of her tongue. He had been good to her and now it was time to bring him pleasure.
She began to run her rough tongue up and down the underside of his shaft When she reached the base of his cock she kept on going, licking his heavy balls with her hot tongue and catching the soft blond down in her teeth, causing him to groan. Then she ran her tongue back up along the underside of the twitching prick.
Veronica rocked back onto her haunches and considered her task. He was hung like the best of them, but he had the thickest piece of meat she had ever seen. She was determined, however, to experience the pleasure of swallowing the heavy piece of meat to the base. She wanted more than anything to feel that huge head expand and contract within her throat She wished she could eat him and get fucked by him at the same tune. She took the head of his cock into her mouth and felt her lips stretch painfully as they passed over the rim of the head. For a moment she hesitated. Even now, with just the head of his prick in her mouth, she had never had such a mouthful of cock. She was, however, determined. She pushed forward, gasping for breath as she went. Not even half his cock was in before it lodged against the back of her mouth. First drawing back slightly, Veronica tilted her head back to open the passage of her throat and slid forward again. The cock slid in slowly, inch after inch. Her eyes closed with the pleasure. The cock slid over her tongue and moved into her throat. Then she felt his balls come to rest against her uplifted chin, and she knew that somehow she had managed to accommodate the thick shaft of passion.
"Nobody's ever done that before," he groaned. "Not even a fairy."
Veronica's lips began to ache from being stretched, and her jaw bones felt as if they were going to collapse from the strain and pressure. She felt a slight wave of warm nausea stir in the pit of her stomach. It was too much to accommodate for long. She withdrew, and her head fell forward. She breathed deeply, gasping for air.
"Again," she heard him whisper. "Do it sweetheart. Suck me."
"No," Veronica answered. She looked at him and was astounded that the thick throbbing tool had only a moment earlier been in her throat. "Let's put it where it belongs," she said.
He laughed and pulled her onto her feet. The cock jerked against the soft flesh of her stomach, slippery with her own saliva. She was squirming, thrusting her aching cunt against the swollen dick.
"I want you to fuck me with that thing now," she said hoarsely.
"That little pussy of yours can't wait?" he said.
"Not another second." She wrapped as much of her hand as possible around his cock. She felt it pulsate slightly within her grip. She turned around, still hanging onto the cock, to lead him into the bedroom.
"Wait," he whispered, his breath thickened with lust "You're like a bitch in heat. We'll do it dog-style."
He turned her around quickly and she fell across the top of the clothes dryer. Goose bumps rose on her tits as they came into contact with the metal which was cold again and still wet with the perspiration from her ass. He quickly spread her legs apart and, positioning his cock for entry, he put both hands onto her hips and slammed it to the hilt with one swift stroke. Veronica lunged forward with the sudden thrust and accidentally hit the "on" switch. She gasped with pleasure as the thick cock stretched the walls of her vagina as they had never been stretched before.
"It's the best way to take a cock like mine," he groaned. "Fast and sudden."
She contracted the walls of her enflamed passage around his prick, "Fuck me," she demanded. "Fuck me until I pass out."
"You asked for it," he said and, withdrawing the prick until the head nearly fell free of her stretched vulva, he slammed into her again, gasping and shuddering with pleasure.
Veronica suddenly realized the clothes dryer had begun to work. She felt the rush of hot air cover her tits, and she pressed into the hot metal with the pleasure of a new sensation. When the machine began to vibrate rapidly, she shivered with ecstasy.
Dick, aware of the new turn of events, drove his cock into her cunt to the hilt and remained pressed up against her vibrating ass. They remained glued together, thrilling to the rapid vibrations of the hot machine. Veronica gnashed her teeth and backed the cheeks of her ass into his stomach as much as she could. He, in turn, pressed forward so that she was completely flattened against the machine, the hot metal digging into her stomach. She reached behind and took his balls into her right hand. They, too, were vibrating from the action of the machine. She frantically worked the muscles of her quivering tunnel to squeeze his vibrating cock. She had never experienced such pleasure.
Dick was bringing her to the heights of pleasure, and she was about to give herself completely up to the moment when she heard Dick gruffly say, "Hey, what the hell is this?"
She turned her head quickly and saw Tom standing in the doorway. He was leaning against the door jam, his arms folded upon his chest, grinning at Veronica and Dick as they continued to vibrate on the machine.
"What the fuck do you want?" she demanded.
Tom glanced down at his crotch. Fully erected, his nine-inch cock was held firmly against his leg by the tight material of his pants.
"I want what I didn't get to finish this morning," he said. Then he looked at Dick and smiled. "Okay with you?" he asked.
Dick stepped back. His cock emerged from Veronica's cunt with a sucking sound. Veronica moaned, "Don't stop."
"It's okay with me," Dick said. "She's hot enough to handle anything. Aren't you, babe?"
"Jesus," she panted. "Knock off the chatter and get with it."
Dick chuckled and lay on his back on the kitchen floor. He looked up at Tom who had quickly removed his clothing and was approaching them. "How about sandwich style?" he asked Tom.
"Great," Tom answered. "Perfect." He spit into the palm of his hand and greased his cock.
"What the fuck is sandwich style?" Veronica asked.
"You'll find out," Dick said. "Just start by sitting on my cock."
Veronica was too obsessed with her passion to question. She quickly straddled Dick's waist and prepared to lower herself onto his prick, which had begun to frantically twitch up and down. Dick reached up and spread the juicy lips of her cunt with one hand. With the other hand he grabbed his dick about its thick base and positioned it directly below her hot opening, "Now, babe," he said.
Veronica lowered herself slowly onto his hot tool, savoring every moment of the penetration. She felt the hot flesh of her tunnel stretch to receive the thick tool and then she came to rest onto his crotch, completely impaled on the massive prick. The thick head of the cock flexed, and she felt the already straining walls of her tunnel stretch with the sensation. Dick moaned and, holding onto the cheeks of her ass, he began to pump in and out of her cunt with a slow, dreamy beat. Veronica abandoned herself to the sensation of being probed so deeply.
She had almost forgotten Tom's presence when she felt another pair of hands on her ass. She looked over her shoulder and saw that Tom was on his knees behind them between Dick's spread legs. He was moving his hand up and down the crack between the cheeks of her ass, lingering longer and longer each time he reached the sensitive opening of her' rectum. Then he withdrew his hand and put the forefinger in his mouth. When the forefinger was wet enough he took it from his mouth and, spreading the cheeks of her ass with the other hand, he deliberately forced the forefinger up her ass-hole. Veronica shivered with a slight spasm of pain she turned away and leaned forward with pleasure. Dick continued to fuck her slowly while Tom began to work his finger in and out of her ass-hole. She leaned forward even further and her tits swung over Dick's face. He raised his head to suck hungrily at the swollen nipples. She pulled back, withdrawing the tits from the reach of his mouth, and began to sway back and forth. Then she came forward again and groaned with the thrill as he took the nipple of her right tit between his teeth.
"Faster," she moaned to Dick. "Start fucking me faster."
Dick immediately began pumping at a quickened pace, catching his breath in large gulps as he struggled beneath her weight.
Veronica was suddenly aware that Tom had stopped fingerfucking her ass-hole. She had just begun to wonder why he had stopped the pleasurable probing when she suddenly felt the full force, not of his finger, but of his nine-inch cock as it ripped up the tight passage of her anal passage. She cried out with the pain and immediately broke into a cold sweat. Her senses reeled.
The men hesitated only a moment Then both their bodies stiffened with increased pleasure and they began to moan. Her own pain subsided, and she was aware of new and unimagined pleasure. She knew they could probably feel the pressure of each other's cocks through the thin membrane separating her expanded passages. She felt the two throbbing cocks thrusting deep into her body, and she contracted the muscles of first one and then the other molten passage. Both men responded and they began to pump into her with alternating thrusts. Every time Dick withdrew, Tom would thrust up into her ass. Then when Tom withdrew, Dick would drive up again into her hot cunt. She moaned and rocked with ecstasy, especially at the moment when, as one was withdrawing and the other was plunging forward, the two cocks were side-by-side with only the thin tissue between them. She furiously massaged her own tits as she rocked to the thrusts of the two groaning men.
Then Dick and Tom began to slam into her at the same tune, and Veronica experienced even more sensation. She thought she might faint from weakness and from the thrill. She could feel the two cocks ramming up her body simultaneously, rubbing together through the slippery and straining membrane. She gave herself so completely to the sensation of the moment that she had a slight fear she might lose control and defecate all over Tom's priming tool. Then she forgot everything and was completely swept up in her lust. Nothing in the world existed but the hot, painful pleasure of two men crashing into her body at the same time.
Her spasms began suddenly, surging throughout her entire body like a flash flood so that she jerked helplessly and frantically, writhing and crying out like a woman possessed with an ecstatic madness. Tears of pleasure sprang to her eyes and a sudden cry, begun somewhere in the depths of her being where the two men labored together, tore through her constricted throat Then she fell forward onto Dick's sweating chest just as a loud cry burst from him. His body rose slightly as if jerked forward by an outside force. Then he gasped and tossed his head back and forth just as Tom rammed into her with a sudden violence.
The three of them lay gasping and panting on the floor of the kitchen for some time. Eventually Veronica became conscious again of the external world, aware of other things besides the raw tingling pain in her cunt and rectum. Her face had fallen onto Dick's heaving chest, and she was pleasantly aware of the odor of fresh sweat coming from his arm pits. The entire kitchen smelled of sweat and the heavy odor of unbridled sex. She became aware, too, that Tom had fallen in exhaustion on top of her. She stirred and began to struggle beneath the man's weight.
Her effort to free herself also brought Tom back to consciousness.
"Jesus, what a fuck," he gasped.
His ebbing cock withdrew itself from her ass-hole. There was a stab of pain as the head withdrew through the sensitive opening. Then Tom leaned back on his knees, thus freeing her of his weight She heard him chuckle as she lifted herself painfully from Dick's body.
She turned around. Tom was standing up now, stroking his flaccid cock which was faintly tinged brown.
He laughed and said, "Looks like I finally got to fuck the shit out of you."
As exhausted as she was, Veronica could not help smiling. "No hard feelings, huh? Even Steven?"
"Right. It had to happen. Can I take a shower."
"Sure," she replied and waved her arm in the general direction of the bathroom.
Tom turned and walked out of the kitchen, whistling with pride and satisfaction.
She looked down at Dick. He was still sprawled on his back. His prick, thick even in its soft state, lay across the blond pubic hair soaked with sweat, saliva and juices from their sex. His stomach was Sat with swirls of blond hair thinning out near the deeply recessed navel. He was still breathing heavily from the strain of sex and of supporting the combined weight of Veronica and Tom.
He gulped and said, "You are one hell of a fuck, lady."
"Want to do it again?" she laughed. She suddenly felt very dizzy and staggered from a stab of pain which shot through her rectum. She leaned against the clothes dryer and took a deep breath. Feeling she had sufficiently gained control of herself, she turned away and walked toward the door.
She turned around to look at him again. Actually she did not look at him but at his dick. The thickness of it was incredible. The bastard is as thick as a can of shaving cream. Economy size.
"By the way," she said, "the pilot light really is out."
Then she walked out of the kitchen.
CHAPTER FOUR
Every muscle in Veronica's body ached, and she longed to sink into a hot tub of soapy water. If she were to go into the bathroom while Tom was still in there, however, they would probably get involved fucking in the tub or something. And the last thing she needed was to have a man with a soaped-up prick crammed into her raw pussy. Besides she had to save herself for the important activities of the afternoon. There were quite a few people depending upon her, after all.
She lit a cigarette and sat on the edge of the bed. She heard Dick groan and struggle to Ms feet. She wished he'd leave. She wished they would all leave, Goddamn it, clear out! Leave me alone!
She looked up. Dick was standing in the doorway. He had half-dressed and was in the process of stuffing his shirt into his unzipped pants. Despite herself, Veronica's eyes settled onto his crotch.
Seeing the direction of his gaze, he said, "You sure are a hot one." Then he zipped up his fly and she turned away from him.
"Thanks for the fuck," he said. "I'll drop by again sometime."
Veronica's head jerked op. She glared at him. "You'll do no such thing," she snapped. "My husband would cut off your balls."
He would. I know he would. George would cut off his balls.
"Yuh? Well, thanks again. You got some snatch." He turned and walked out of the room.
"Don't be so crude," she called after him. "Or I might cut them off myself I"
He broke into laughter. She heard the door close. He was gone.
Now if only that other one would fuck off.
The muscles in Veronica's rectum began to relax finally. It was a pleasant sensation for awhile, but it began to change quickly. What was a pleasurable feeling had become an overwhelming urge to defecate. There was no choice. She had either to go into the bathroom while Tom was still in there or run out into the garden. She moaned, clutched tightly at the naked flesh of her stomach and ran into the bathroom.
Clouds of steam enveloped her immediately and she felt fault from the heat and the urgent pressure on her bowels. She found the John and quickly completed her business. It was her intention and her hope to leave before Tom ever became aware of her presence. As she stood to leave, however, she saw a flash of skin through the steamy glass shower door. Her breath caught, and her hands began to tremble. Get out of here, Veronica. Clear out!
But Veronica ignored her own advice. The body behind the glass had turned, and she saw a faint splash of black near the pubic area of Tom's reddened body. She slid the door open and stepped inside.
"Move over," she said.
"Over. Under. Around. Anything you say, Mrs. Wainwright"
"Don't be sarcastic. I can't stand sarcasm."
Tom didn't answer her. Instead, he took a bar of soap and began soaping her body very carefully.
He worked up a lather on her tits and then moved down towards her vagina. At the opening of her passionate tunnel, he only briefly lingered before bringing his hand under and through her legs to wash her rectum. She gritted her teeth and turned her face into the steaming water while he carefully cleaned the aching hole. Then he brought his hand through her legs again and began soaping her pussy. First he soaped up the tangled mass of pubic hair. Veronica began to rotate her hips as he moved closer and closer to her opening. Finally he was soaping the lips of her vulva, and she was jerking forward with the sensation of soap and hot water against the raw flesh. She reached forward and took Tom's prick in her hand and began working up a lather on the stiff and jerking tool. Then he slipped the bar of soap up her cunt as far as it would go without having to release it. Veronica gasped and fell forward.
"Fuck me quick," she said.
Tom pulled the soap out of her pussy and dropped it onto the floor of the rub. He bent down and, slipping his arms through her legs, he completely lifted her off the floor of the tub. She wrapped her legs around his back and clung to him tightly as she felt the shaft slip op her passage. She bit her lips to keep from crying out with the pain of the soapy prick irritating her flesh. Then the pain passed.
Still clinging to him, she moaned, "Now, Tom!"
He began to fuck her hard, holding the weight of her body as he rocked in and out of her cunt. Her spasms began quickly and, just as she felt the first wave ripple through her body, Tom began to gasp and pant like an animal. He threw his head back and lost his footing. They crashed against the wall of the shower. Veronica was pressed up against the wall, and the hot water was pouring onto her face in full force. She began to struggle against the hot water just as Tom shuddered and quickly took a deep breath.
They remained pressed up against the wall for another moment white Tom continued to gulp for air. Then-he lowered her to the floor and she staggered out of the shower. She dried herself without looking at bun again.
As she was wrapping a towel around her head, she said, "You can leave the key on the kitchen table."
"What key?"
"To your old room above the garage."
"What?" he said in a tone of disbelief. "After all that you still want me to go?"
She looked up at him calmly.
"Wouldn't you like to have me around?" he continued. "Sort of on tap?"
She pursed her lips. "I never sleep with the hired help."
"Well, if that don't beat..." he broke off. Then he shrugged his shoulders and walked out of the bathroom. She followed him into the kitchen and watched him as he dressed. Finally, he turned, smiled sarcastically and waved. He turned toward the door.
"Tom?"
He turned, a question in his eyes.
"The key."
Tom was too stunned and too tired to even laugh. He smiled grimly, reached into his pocket and dropped the key onto the floor. Then he walked out.
Veronica picked up the key, her second peignoir of the day and the newspaper. She dropped everything into a pile on the kitchen table and went back into the bedroom. She sprawled across the bed, pulled a sheet over her naked body and rolled onto her side. I haven't had a quickie that good since two days ago in that gas station. I'll-have to go back there sometime. George would shit if he knew. Absolutely shit.
She dropped off into a troubled sleep in which she dreamed. She dreamed about that episode two days earlier with the gas station attendant, but there was a new and horrifying twist...
When she and George pulled into the gas station there was a considerable lapse of time before the attendant appeared. George blew the horn several times and they were just about to leave when the attendant came running around the corner. His hands, covered with grease and dirt, were just finishing buckling his belt as he appeared around the corner. Veronica's breath caught She knew from the protruding lump in his pants that the attendant hadn't answered their call immediately because he had been too busy jacking off. She also guessed from the fact that he still plainly had a hard-on that he had decided to take care of them and then finish jacking off in peace. Veronica flushed, and her earlobes burned. The sight of the hard-on, even when hidden within the man's pants, drove her wild with lust. She had to possess it. Her chest heaved and she struggled to control herself before she said to George, "I've got to take a crap."
She got out of the car, trying to act calm. She walked towards the attendant who was just putting the pump into their gas tank. He was a young man, muscular and dark with close cropped black hair and sultry dark eyes. She guessed him to be a Mexican. But his face and body did not interest her. It was the bulge in his pants, straining and throbbing against the tight-fitting pants. She sensed the demands of the prick for a quick, animal release.
"The rest room?" she asked and stared openly at his crotch. The blood rushed to her face and she trembled with excitement She felt as if she were on fire.
"Back there," he answered and blushed.
Veronica stepped forward to pass him. As she passed the young man, she deliberately reached out and squeezed the lump in his pants. He backed away with a gasp and flashed a startled look at the back of George's head in the car.
"Meet me there now," she whispered. "Come around the other way."
Veronica walked away quickly. Her mouth was dry. Once she had turned the corner, she slipped her hands up under her dress and began tugging at her panties even before she reached the women's room. She pushed the door open and hurried hi. It was fool and smelled strongly of urine. She didn't have time for the niceties, however. She pulled her panties free of her hips and, holding her dress up around her waist, she backed up against the sink and waited.
The young man, actually a boys came into the rest room shortly after her. He pushed the snap on the door and immediately brought his greasy hand to his fly. The huge uncircumcised prick sprang forward and she reached for it with a cry of delight. The boy, however, pushed her hand roughly away. He lifted her and set her down on the sink so that her ass was cradled in the bowl and her back rested against the cold spigots. He separated her legs, and then plunged his cock into her with a sense of urgency.
The angle was slightly painful to Veronica and the force of his push into her cunt had forced her back into sharp contact with the spigots. He was like an animal, ignoring her comfort, intent only on getting his load of hot come shot off as soon as possible. In a moment he grunted and slammed into her, grabbing her thighs roughly as he did so. Then he pulled his cock out of her cunt which struggled to hang onto it. He stuffed the satiated piece of meat back into his trousers.
"Come back sometime when you're alone, and I'll fuck you all night long." Then he hurried away.
"Sure," she whispered.
Veronica was stunned and amazed. Her thighs were covered with grease and grime from his gripping hands. Still cradled in the bowl of the sink, she glanced up, looking for a roll of paper towels to clean herself. Then she cried out with alarm. There was a window she had not noticed before. George was standing in the window.
The door to the rest room opened and George came in. Veronica opened her mouth to somehow explain away the incident, but he roughly motioned for her to be silent.
She watched in amazement as George dropped to his knees before the sink and began furiously to eat her cunt with a loud sucking noise. He was eating her as he had never eaten her before. He was driving her wild with excitement.
She looked down at his frantically working mouth buried in the mass of black pubic hair. He had taken his prick out of his opened fly and was slowly beating himself off while eating her cunt.
"George," she moaned. "I want you inside me. Don't you understand, George? It's', you I want, George. George!"
He ignored her pleas. He continued to eat her hungrily, lapping up the dregs of her sex with the boy while bringing himself off. George began to moan and writhe. She knew he was about to shoot his heavy load of come, and she wanted it desperately.
"George, let me have it Please. George, I need it" She was almost on the point of tears.
George stood up suddenly and, with one final stroke of his hand, his come spurted from the throbbing cock and splattered onto her stomach.
"Fuck you," he hissed, "I got what I wanted."
Then George began to laugh...
Veronica woke up screaming, her body tense and wet with perspiration. Her chest heaved violently, and she shuddered to recall the dream. The dream had been an exact transcription of reality up to the point where George had appeared at the window.
What did he mean he got what he wanted? Why wouldn't he fuck me? Why didn't he beat me? He should have knocked me on my ass. George? Oh crap, it was just a dream.
Veronica convinced herself there was a reason for that particular dream. Just before going to sleep she had had a quickie with Tom and it had been in a bathroom. That's all there was to it as far as she was concerned. As for George, he usually ate her out before fucking her. And he had eaten her out shortly after she had been fucked by that kid at the gas station. It was simple--the dream was merely the reflection of things she had thought about just before failing asleep.
Only the ending eluded her. That was strange.
But, Christ, that spix kid fucked like an animal.
She dozed off again. She had to get some rest. The people at the sex fair were counting on her.
CHAPTER FIVE
George was in a foul mood. He was, in fact, angry--angry at everyone and everything. The plane had been delayed in San Francisco because of fog, and it was already early evening before he even arrived in Boston. The baggage collector at the airport, the cab driver caught in the traffic jam, the desk clerk and the bellboy: all of them had functioned with an excessive slowness so that he had finally lost patience and begun snapping at people in an uncharacteristic manner. He wanted desperately to take a hot shower. His crotch still felt sticky from the blow job he had had in the terminal at San Francisco, and he was impatient to scrub his cock and balls clean of the residue of that ugly encounter. In his haste, however, everything had conspired to keep him from washing his crime away.
When he was finally alone in the hotel room, George immediately locked the door and stripped. He pulled his jockey shorts off quickly and, wadding them up into a ball, tossed them angrily into the wastepaper basket Then he looked down at his flaccid cock. He almost expected to see some mark, some permanent indication left by the young man's frantically sucking mouth. His cock looked innocent, hanging limply from his crotch, the foreskin loosely cradling the thick rim of the head. Reaching down, he cupped his balls in his right hand. They were slightly sticky with the saliva kept moist and slimy by the day's perspiration. He shuddered and walked into the bathroom, still cupping the hairy sac between his legs.
He would feel better after a shower. Then the sensation of being dirty would pass. Once he was clean again, he could find Philip in the phone book.
George turned on the water and immediately began to soap his balls, working up a strong lather. He forced his mind to go blank, to think of nothing but to merely experience the pleasurable cleansing action of the soap against his skin. His mind, however would not go blank. The image of the young man on his knees, slurping over George's rigid cock, kept flashing into his mind. George shut his eyes tightly and tried to make the image disappear. It would not go away, but it did begin gradually to change. The young man changed into Philip. In his mind Philip was on his knees before George, licking and sucking his cock, while George issued out Philip's command of years ago, "Eat me, then. Eat that fucking cock!"
George opened his eyes. He was panting as he stared down between his legs in horror. His cock, covered with soap, was jumping forward, struggling to explode. George drew his hand away quickly-and murmured, "Dear God."
He ignored the erection although If persisted. He dried himself, carefully drying the cock in such a way as to avoid increasing the aching pressure for release. He pulled on a clean pair of undershorts, but the head of the cock protruded above the waist band. He angrily pushed it to the side, willing the persistent hard-on to go away. The prick continued to struggle, straining against the soft cotton prison of the shorts, demanding satisfaction, demanding control.
George walked across the room, reached behind the lowered shade and threw the window wide open. The night air was cool, cooler than he was accustomed to living in Hillsborough. The ache in his loins refused to subside. He considered jacking off, but he knew instinctively that masturbation would not even begin to satisfy the raging fire in his belly. Instead, he reached for the phone book.
For the first time it occurred to George that Philip might have moved or might have an unlisted number. He opened the book and quickly turned to the listings for "B." His finger ran down the page until it settled on the number for Philip Bannigan. George leaned forward with a rush of relief, and, as he leaned forward, he felt the rock-hard cock press into his stomach.
He picked up the phone and gave the switchboard operator Philip's number.
"Hello?" A strange voice, distant and complaining.
"Philip?"
There was a sigh on the other end of the line followed by, "Oh, it's always for her!"
"I beg your pardon?" George said. "Is this the residence of Philip Bannigan?"
"My, she's getting imagine ones these days. Yes, it is, sweetie, but she's not here."
George realized with a shock that the voice, whining and cloying as it sounded, belonged to a man. He could not, would not associate that voice with Philip. Not the Philip he had known and admired at the university.
"It's very urgent," Philip said. "Can you tell me how I might reach him?"
"Urgent?" the voice gushed and George decided the person speaking was either drunk or drugged.
"Yes, urgent. I've come from San Francisco especially to see him. We went to school together."
"Oh! Tm sorry, darling, I thought you were one of her sailor tricks."
"I'm not a sailor and I don't even know what a trick is. Now, can you please tell me where to find Philip?" George was losing his temper again. He frowned into the phone and glanced away. His eyes fell onto his crotch. The hard-on had subsided. He felt the cock withdraw into the foreskin.
"Well, she's probably at The Closet"
"The Closet?"
"Mary, she may get them pretty but they sure are dumb. The Closet. You know, the gay bar?"
"Oh," Philip said. "Of course. Thank you."
"Charmed, I'm sure," the voice purred.
Philip hung up and leaned back in the chair. He felt that Philip must have fallen upon very hard times to put up with such a... such a... creature! He shuddered and put his hand to his forehead. Not Philip. Not the proud young athlete. It couldn't be. But there had been no mistake. He had called Philip's house and that creature, for whatever reason, had been there. Feeling a chill, George got up and closed the window.
With sudden determination, he called the front desk and asked to have the bellboy sent to his room. Then he unlocked the door and resumed his seat.
The bellboy responded quickly. When he entered the room and saw George sitting in his jockey shorts, he smiled faintly and George read contempt into the smile. He looked at the boy. He was young, probably Italian, wearing his tight-fitting uniform with ease and assurance. George held out a five dollar bill and said, "Find me a woman. Fast"
The bellboy took the money and turned away. George looked up and found himself staring at the firm buttocks as they moved away from him. He leaned forward quickly to cover the hard-on which had returned with a renewed force and vigor. He got up and laid across the bed to await the visitor.
The hotel probably kept a small staff of girls on tap, because she knocked on the door within ten minutes.
"Come in," George called. He felt his body tense. He had only had one woman in his life: Veronica. One woman and one man, he thought ironically. An even score. Until now.
She came in and locked the door behind her. A relatively pretty young woman from the Irish part of town with a mass of thick, red hair.
She smiled at him, and he noticed with distaste that her teeth were bad. "Oh," she said, "you've got it all ready for me."
He looked down at fee protruding lump in his jockey shorts. "Raging," he said.
"Great. The kid tell yon the price?"
"No."
"Twenty bucks. In advance." She stood at the foot of the bed, obviously interested in the size of the swelling in his shorts, but unwilling to budge without the cash.
He sighed. There was no reason for him to take it personally. It was, after all, a business deal. Somehow he wished it were a little less business-like. He got off the bed and walked towards his trousers. Her gaze followed him as he pulled out his wallet and handed her a twenty-dollar bill.
As if sensing his annoyance, she said, "Nothing personal, you know. A girl just has to protect herself. Sometimes they get to feeling bad after it's over, you know, and then they won't cough up."
"It's okay," he said and climbed back onto the bed. "No hard feelings. Just a hard cock."
She was going to strip for him. Turning slightly away from him, she slowly unzipped her flimsy dress and pushed it forward off her shoulders. Then she turned to face him with her legs spread apart and began rotating her hips. As she did so, she threw her head back in an artless simulation of ecstasy. Then she suddenly looked at him and asked, "You got anything special I should know about?"
"Just a fuck," he said and was surprised at the sharp edge to his voice.
"Okay." She resumed her sultry expression and ran her hands up to caress her tits through the bra. "Nice, hull? They say my body drives them really crazy."
"Please," he said. "I just want a fuck."
She dropped her hands and then quickly reached behind and undid the bra.
"A rabbit, huh?"
He felt himself swell with sudden anger. Was it any wonder so many whores got slugged in the mouth by their clients? Was it a wonder so many whores turned to other women? It was a vicious, disgusting circle.
She walked over to the bed, wearing just her sheer panties. She smiled at him and resumed her seductive look.
George leaned up on one elbow. With the other hand, he reached out, hooked his forefinger around the elastic waistband and pulled the panties forward to reveal the triangular patch of black pubic hair. The red hair was dyed. He should have known. He released the elastic and the panties snapped around her waist. 'Take them off," he said.
"Sure, honey. What do you want? You want me to sit on it or what?"
"Sure, sit on it." George felt his interest in the woman rapidly fading away. He concentrated on the ache in his loins, forced himself to think of her cunt as the next best thing to jacking off.
She crawled onto the bed and put her hands around his jockey shorts. He lifted his ass so she could slip the shorts off his body.
When his cock broke free from the constraining shorts, she rocked back onto her knees said, "Oh, honey, that's a good-looking pecker!"
George felt revulsion deep within his stomach. AH whores pretend ecstasy, to convince the man they are with that he is the best damn piece of ass they have ever had, that if their circumstances permitted it they would give him a free fuck. The ability of a whore to convince a man of his virility is all the difference between a good and a bad whore. It has almost nothing to do with their cunts. George, however, was unaware of such things. He knew only that the practiced look and manner of the girl was revolting to him. And his reaction to her as a person began to interfere with his determination to think of her as just as cunt.
"Oh, baby, baby, baby," she cooed and took his rod into her hand. He jerked his head to one side as if in sudden pain. His prick, seconds before demanding release on any terms, went completely soft in the whore's rough hand.
The whore began to shake it in an attempt to spring h back into life.
"Forget it," he said. 'Tm sorry."
She shrugged her shoulders and got off the bed. "Nothing to worry about, honey," she said. "Happens to the best of them."
"Oh?" he muttered. He didn't believe her.
"Sure," she replied matter-of-factly. "Lots of guys got too many hang-ups to make it with a professional lady like me."
She had put on her panties and bra and was In the process of stepping into her dress. She looked at him as he lay on his back staring at her. "Hey, honey, don't worry about it Really, It's no big thing. Too bad, though. Your cock is a big thing."
She turned towards the door. He continued to stare at her in disbelief. She smiled, "Wait till I tell my girl friend Rita about the one that got away. Bye bye."
Alone in the room again, George rolled onto his stomach and buried his face into die pillow. He had failed miserably. The girl had merely been the legendary good-hearted whore who had tried to make him feel good. He imagined her with her girlfriend Rita having a good laugh about the guy who gave her twenty dollars to prove he was a man and then flunked the test. George gulped. For one terrible moment he thought he was going to lose even more of his manhood by bursting into tears. What kind of a man, was he?
George's attention was diverted. His rod had stiffened again and was pushing into the space between his stomach and the mattress. He rolled onto his back and the erected member swung up and lay twitching along his stomach, reaching to his navel.
"You son of a bitch," he murmured out loud as if the cock had a life of its own. "You win."
Then he got off the bed and quickly got dressed.
CHAPTER SIX
Veronica switched on the car radio. The announcer was giving some of the details of the latest rape-murder in Hillsborough. The victim had been gagged and bound before being brutally raped. Then the rapist had broken the leg off a kitchen chair and rammed it up the woman's vagina.
"Ouch," she murmured and squirmed slightly is her seat "What a way to go. Jesus."
One-quarter of a mile ahead was a highway rest stop, and there was a large truck pulled over to the side. Veronica glanced at her watch, and quickly calculated that she had another hour to go before she was due at the sex fair. She had planned to spend the time shopping, but there really was nothing in particular she needed to buy. The freeway was relatively crowded. Glancing only briefly over her shoulder, she quickly crossed the four lanes of traffic and roared into the rest area. Jesus, the chances I take. Probably some old creep, too, who'd come before he got it out of his pants. What the fuck are you doing, Veronica?
She got out of her car and walked towards the truck. The top of the driver's head was visible as he slouched in the seat asleep. He walked towards the passenger side of the vehicle and stepped up onto the dashboard.
The driver was a big man, over six feet tall, sprawled in the driver's seat with his legs spread. His arms were folded across his chest and he was snoring lightly. He had a rough, masculine face which looked like it was carved out of weathered wood, and she judged him to be about thirty-six years old. His hair was black, and he had grown a beard which he kept trimmed and cut close. Her eyes settled onto the faded spot at the crotch. She could not detect a lump and decided he was wearing tight-fitting shorts. She also knew truck drivers developed weak kidneys and wondered if there was a piss hard-on forcing itself to his attention beneath the shorts. For awhile she was content to watch the huge man calmly, wondering if his prick was in proportion to the rest of him. Then she began to hum softly, introducing a sound other than the steady roar of traffic which he had probably learned to block out.
After a few minutes he began to stir. Then his arms unfolded and his hands joined together tightly. He thrust his knotted hands into his crotch and arched his back, pushing onto his crotch as he did so. He threw his head back and yawned, pushing down on his crotch and slouching even further into the seat.
"Hello," she said.
His head jerked her way in surprise. He quickly took his hands away from the object of her desire and sat up straight He blinked at her, his eyes still half-closed with sleep. They were deep brown eyes. He rubbed them and smiled at her.
"Hi," he said. "You having trouble with your car?"
"No," she said.
He looked at her curiously while she continued to smile at him. She watched his face carefully and decided he was beginning to get the idea. She lowered her eyes towards his crotch. In response he slid slightly forward in the seat. Now she could plainly detect a straining lump.
"I like your truck," she said, trying to sound casual. "It's big."
"You like 'em big?"
"Hmm," she sighed. Then she smiled and said, "Have you dumped your load yet?"
His mouth opened in a smile, and she saw his tongue move slowly between the rows of white teeth. He swung his right leg up onto the seat and turned his body so he was leaning against the door. He moved Ms hands towards the area between his legs again. This time, however, his hands weren't knotted together. He placed the palms of both hands over the enormous lump. Before he covered his crotch, she saw the spaces between the buttons were separated from the pressure and they looked as if they were about to burst loose.
With his hands spread and caressing his hardened prick through the dungarees, he smiled at her and said, "It's gonna bust right out of my pants."
Veronica stepped down from the dashboard, opened the door and climbed into the cab of the truck. She lay across his body and undid the buttons of his blue work shirt. He didn't wear an undershirt and she thrilled to the thick mat of black hair which covered his chest. She brought her mouth down and closed her lips over his right nipples, savoring his pungent, salty taste.
"Babe, maybe we should get into the back of the truck," he said.
She looked up. He was glancing nervously over his shoulder at the traffic moving by only a few yards away.
"They can't see up into the cab," she said and resumed sucking at his nipples.
He lifted her head and brought her face towards her. He kissed her, first enveloping her lips with his own and then thrusting his tongue deep into her moaning mouth. As he kissed her, he supported her body with his huge left hand and ran his right hand down the small of her back and massaged the cheeks of her ass. He worked her silk dress up and slipped his hand underneath the panties she wore and ran his forefinger up and down the crack of her ass. His hands were as hairy as the rest of him and had a rough texture. She sighed deeply with the pleasure. Continuing to French kiss her, he placed the tip of his forefinger against the tight ass-hole, which still tingled from being fucked by Tom's nine-inch prick.
She moaned and then began kissing with increased passion. Her lips were wet, and she felt a trickle of saliva run out of the corner of her mouth to disappear into his black beard. She arched her ass and worked the muscles of her ass to suck in his probing finger to the knuckle. As she arched to receive the finger, Veronica slipped her left hand into the space between their bodies and ran the palm of her hand along the length of his prick beneath the rough cotton jeans. It was huge and for lack of space it was bent in an awkward position. He withdrew his finger from her ass.
"Get it out of there," he groaned, "before it breaks in half."
Veronica rocked back and undid his belt buckle. As she undid the buttons of his pants she leaned forward to lick his nipples. He held onto the back of her head and moaned. He suddenly sighed with relief and she felt his rod rise up and hit her stomach. She looked down and her eyes widened with amazement His prick was at least ten inches long. She stared at it in disbelief. The head was purplish from having the circulation cut off while in the jeans. The thick shaft with the rounded protrusion running along the underside disappeared into his mound of black pubic hair.
"Jesus," she moaned.
She reached for his trousers and he lifted his ass up so she could pull the jeans down. As his crotch rose towards her, she lowered her head and licked at it hungrily. When the jeans were down to his thighs, he lowered his ass onto the seat again. His balls were huge, too, bigger even than George who had always before had the biggest love nuts she had ever seen. Until now. She reached for them, and her small hand was not even big enough to hold them. She pushed them aside and leaned forward, determined to take his gorgeous pair of nuts into her hot little mouth. She licked them all over while he held onto the back of her head and squirmed. She heard him take in quick breaths between his gritted teeth. She opened her mouth and took one of the balls into her mouth. She felt her oral cavity swell to receive it and there was barely room enough for her to move her tongue around the hairy morsel. Then she began to stuff the other ball into her mouth with her hand. He stiffened as the tight little nut within the sac passed by her teeth. Then he groaned and Veronica, her mouth stuffed full with his balls, stared up at the huge shaft writhing before her eyes.
She began to gag and her eyes watered. She stretched her mouth as much as possible to allow the balls to fall free. Finally she had to use her finger to pry the balls one at a time loose from her oral cavity. For a minute she thought she might vomit, but then one of the balls began to slip from her cavity. He jerked forward slightly as some of the thick black hair caught between her teeth as the nut rushed free and settled wetly between his legs. Then the other one was released and Veronica leaned back gasping for air. She looked at his prick longingly, but she knew she could never take more than the swollen purplish knob into her mouth, "Anyone ever take the whole thing?" she asked.
"Not quite," he answered. "You wanna try?" He put his hand around the shaft of rod and squeezed. To her delight and amazement, the head expanded even more under the pressure. Without waiting for a reply, he leaned forward and forced her back into a sitting position in the passenger seat.
He quickly undid his shoes and pulled them off. Then he lifted his ass so that his prick rested against the steering wheel and pulled his pants off. He didn't bother to remove his socks or the shirt that had become wet under the arms. He swung his leg over the gear shift and was on his knees on the floor of the cab in front of her seat. He lifted her up with one hand and pushed her dress up over her waist. Veronica lifted her arms and finished removing the dress. She was wearing only her panties then, and he looked at her tits.
"You've got tits like I've got a prick," he said. He leaned forward and licked one of her nipples. Then his lips parted and he sucked at her swollen breast. She shivered with the double pleasure of his warm, wet mouth on her tit and the rough scraping of his beard against her flesh. Supporting himself with his left hand on the seat beside her, he squeezed the tit he was sucking. She felt the nipple stiffen under the pressure of his hand at the base of her breast. She slouched forward and moaned.
When he drew his mouth away from her tit, he left a trail of saliva which glittered in the sun coming through the windshield. She leaned slightly forward and saw that a car had pulled into the rest stop beside her own. A young man and a girl were inside.
"Company," she said.
He looked over his shoulder. The man in the car put his arm around the girl and drew her towards him. As he leaned forward to kiss her, his hand slipped up under her sweater and began caressing her tit.
The truck driver grinned at Veronica. Then he got lower onto his knees between her outspread legs. He hooked his fingers into the elastic band at the waist of her panties and pulled them down. She lifted her ass and closed her legs while he slipped the panties down her legs and off her feet. He was beginning to breathe heavily.
Once the panties were removed, Veronica spread her legs again and put her hands behind his head, pulling towards her cunt. As he worked his tongue around the lips of her vulva, Veronica whimpered with the sudden thrill of feeling his rough beard against the inside flesh of her thighs. He apparently realized the cause of her increased--excitement because he leaned forward and began rubbing his beard over her constricting cunt. Veronica's head rolled back and she moaned with pleasure.
As Veronica's head rested against the back of the seat she saw that the young couple had left the car and had moved into the bushes off the rest stop. They were sprawled on the ground behind a bush in such a way that they were not visible from the freeway. From where she sat perched high up in the cab of the truck, however, Veronica had a perfect view of the couple's lovemaking. While the bearded truck driver continued to lap and rub her pussy with his beard, she watched the young couple get undressed.
The boy had red hair and his pubic hair glittered like burnished copper against his white skin. He lay down on his back with his head away from Veronica. The blonde girl undressed and got onto her hands and knees over the boy's prostrate body so her head was over his extended rod. She lowered her head and took the cock into her mouth. As she drew her head back, the saliva covered tool, which was white with a slight pink tinge, glittered in the morning sun. Veronica shivered and looked down at the truck driver.
His tongue had begun moving away from her cunt, following the triangular patch of pubic hair, which thinned out and terminated just below her navel. She thrilled to the sight of his dark skin and black hair against her own white flesh, thrilled even more to Ms coarse tongue and the scraping of his beard.
He drew back and looked up at her. "What are they doing?" he asked with a jerk of his head over his shoulder.
She nodded towards the bushes. He leaned forward to look and the inflamed knob of his prick jabbed into her moist stomach. She reached down and took it into her hand.
The young couple was fucking now. Locked in a feverish embrace she watched the large buns of the boy's ass slam into the blonde girl writhing beneath him.
"Kids," she whispered. "They don't know how to make it last." She squeezed his prick and felt the nerve ends tingle against her flesh.
He grunted and drew back. He put his right hand around his hot tool and pulled her forward so that she nearly slid off the edge of the seat. He moved his cock up and down along the lips of her vulva until she was moaning softly and thrusting her cunt forward, begging to have the huge prick driven deep inside her body. He pushed the head into her cunt and moaned and then he drew it back. She cried out and gasped, "Give it to me."
"Getting there is half the fun," he answered. He inserted only a few inches each tune, withdrawing until the thick head was at the gate of her love tunnel. Then he drove in a little deeper. He began to moan deep in Ms throat and, looking down, she saw his stomach muscles begin to quiver with mounting excitement.
"It's tight," he whispered.
Although secretly flattered by his remark, Veronica said, "Anything would be tight around a cock like that."
He grinned and then suddenly pushed his entire length into her body. She stiffened and threw back her head as the gigantic tool shot up the rippling walls of her passage. She took a deep breath and drew her underlip between her teeth. The angle at which he had placed her on the seat was not the easiest way to accommodate his length, but it was pleasurable.
He continued to push into her body while she held her breath and thrilled to the penetration. He was going further into her than any man had ever gone before, and she felt dizzy with the pleasure. She thought the determined cock would never stop pushing forward, pushing apart the taut muscles of her upper passage. Then she felt his heavy balls come to rest against the cheeks of her ass. He leaned forward with a groan, pressing the thick hair of his chest against her aching tits. He was bringing her to the heights of pleasure and for a moment she clung to him without moving, fully savoring the sensation of the huge flexing cock crammed into her cunt.
The driver leaned back and began to pump into her. She shuddered as the length was extracted from her quivering cunt and then plunged in again. She threw her head back and bit her lip.
She looked at the young couple. The boy was frantically slamming into the girl, his red balls jerking frantically. Then the boy's arms stiffened and he rose above the girl, extracting his prick from her cunt. As he came out of her, Veronica saw the prick swing free between his legs. It jerked up out of her sight. Then she saw the first blob of thick come as it splattered onto the girl's stomach. The prick dripped down again and then swung out of view again. Four or five times the cock disappeared from view, spraying a load of come each time and then dropping into view again. Then the boy rolled onto his back beside the girl. The frustrated girl rubbed the come around on her belly and then licked her fingers.
She looked at the truck driver. He was looking at the couple, too, while he pumped in and out of Veronica's slit.
"Now," he said hoarsely, "I'll fuck you good."
The driver leaned back and, clutching the inside of Veronica's thighs, he began to pump her with increased passion. He had thrown his head back and was smiling with his eyes closed. Veronica watched him, thrilling to the sight of the muscular man pumping into her body almost as much as to the actual sensation of his priming tool. His muscular, broad shoulders were tightly knotted in passion and drops of perspiration seeped from beneath the forest of hair on his chest. The thick, hairy muscles of his lower stomach tightened as he withdrew from her then relaxed with a heave as he shoved into her again. Veronica experienced all the sensations possible.
He made a sound as if he were choking. His face was grimacing with his passion. She reached forward and pulled him closer. He fell heavily across her. She began to jerk beneath him, rubbing her aching tits against the coarse hair of his chest. She wrapped her legs tightly around him, locking her heels around his pumping ass. She felt the muscles of his cheeks knot and relax with each and every thrust into her tunnel. He began to pump quickly now and she knew his passion was about to climax. He grunted and groaned. He lifted his head and sought her mouth, kissing her with an unbridled passion.
Veronica was totally lost to everything except the sensations of her body, from the wet tongue licking at the inside of her mouth to the hair of his beard and chest against her skin to the now frantic thrusts of his gigantic cock. She gasped as the spasms began within her body and pulled her mouth away from his. Saliva ran out of the corner of her mouth as she did so and she felt the hot liquid run onto her heaving breasts. Then his head was thrown back as if the neck would snap and he began to gasp and catch his breath.
The spasms passed through Veronica with such a frenzy she clung onto his shoulders and jerked helplessly as if out of control. She didn't want the moment to ever end. Passion tore through her body, so completely carrying her away with it that she didn't even know whether or not she cried out in a mixture of pain and ecstasy.
Then she felt his prick expand even more within her spasmodically jerking body. She gnashed her teeth and rocked her head, crying out, "Shoot me the juice."
He bellowed like a wild animal as his hot and throbbing prick exploded the love juice she craved into her tunnel. She felt the force of his passion and stiffened with pleasure. Then his head fell forward, and he gasped and panted wildly. Then he drove into her one last time and fell limply across her heaving chest Veronica clang to him tightly, savoring the sight over his shoulder of the thick muscular back terminating in the slim cheeks of his ass. She shuddered with one final spasm and then threw her head back.
As her breathing began to steady, Veronica noticed that the young couple had driven away. They could not have failed to be aware of the activity in the cab of the track. She hoped they had seen and learned something about what a real fuck was all about. Then she drew up sharply, aware of a steadied breathing. The truck driver had fallen asleep on top of her. His weight was crushing her. She struggled but even her hands were trapped beneath him, digging into her own tits. She forward and bit into his shoulder.
The truck driver started and jerked his head up, "What's wrong?" he grunted.
"You're killing me," she said.
"Oh? Oh! Sorry." He leaned back and his prick fell from her cunt with a sucking sound.
"Christ, what a cock," she gasped, astounded at the size of it even in its soft state.
He crawled away from her and climbed onto the driver's side of the seat, looking about for his scattered clothing. She looked at him and realized she had been so swept away by his lovemaking that she couldn't even remember when he took his shut off. She didn't even know whether she had torn it from his body or whether he had removed it, She found her panties and pulled them on. Her cunt was wet and sloppy. She felt annoyed and hoped the shower at Tony's Club was decent. Glancing at her watch, she realized she had to hurry to get to the sex fair quickly or else be late. After all, she couldn't be late. People were counting on her. She slipped her dress over her head and looked at the truck driver.
He had pulled on his pants and was lying slouched back in the seat His hairy chest was still heaving. He grinned at her.
"And to think all I was really expecting was a blow job," he said.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, queers sometimes pull into the rest stops and suck off truck drivers."
"How disgusting," Veronica said.
She opened the door, stepped out of the cab of the truck and walked away. As she walked she was aware of the wetness between her legs. She savored ft. Can you imagine the nerve of those queers, driving around and sucking off truck drivers?
Thus indignant and having successfully diverted attention from herself, Veronica started the car and pulled onto the freeway without another glance at the truck driver.
As Veronica drove into San Francisco the wetness between her legs from fucking and sucking with the truck driver began to annoy her. At the first traffic light, she quickly hoisted her ass off the seat and slipped her panties off. As she turned to drop them into her purse, she glanced up at the car that had pulled along her right side. A deeply tanned, blond teen-ager was grinning lewdly at her. He rolled down his window and boldly shouted above the roaring traffic, "Hey, baby. You need someone to fuck that hot snatch?"
"Stick it up your ass," she said and tossed her head haughtily. His looks pleased her, however, and she continued to look at him with her lips half-parted in a smile that was both a challenge and an invitation. He looked to her so much like the classic California surfer-type that she wondered if there was beach sand caught in his blond pubic hair and if his cock would have a slight salty taste.
The boy laughed, the flash of his white teeth startling against the golden brown of his skin. His hands dropped out of her sight, and she had the distinct impression that he was undoing his pants. Then he looked back at her and raised himself off the seat so she had a glimpse of the thick head of his uncircumcised cock. She gasped with pleasure and rubbed her left hand over her damp pussy. She would like to be fucked by the young stud. It had been her experience that young men could get harder than older men and, with her expert guidance, a rock-hard prick could more than compensate for a young stud's clumsiness. He had lowered himself onto the seat again and was watching her. His right arm was moving up and down, and she felt frustrated to know he was playing with himself while she was unable to see.
Then the light changed. She turned to the boy and smiled. "Sorry," she said softly, "but I really don't have time to teach you how to fuck a real woman."
As she slipped the car into gear and pulled away, she saw him flip her the finger and struggle to get his pants buttoned up before moving into the traffic. The drivers behind him, impatient with the delay, began to blow their horns. She looked over her shoulder. The boy's face was beet-red, and he was still working at the buttons of his pants. She laughed softly, amused more by his youthfulness than at him. She sincerely hoped to run into him again sometime.
She glanced at her watch. There was still time enough to pick up some shoes at I. Magnun so she headed towards Union Square.
I. Magnun pleased Veronica enormously. When she had been young and embarrassed about the size of her tits, a shopping trip to the exclusive store had been a painful experience. Sales clerks, wrapped in the secure knowledge that their own small breasts were very fashionable, had given her side-long glances which frequently reduced her to tears. Now she strode through the store proudly, her tits held high, sweeping through the astonished mass of women dressed in camel coats and smelling of powder. She had discovered the secret of success, the secret necessary to win the praise of fashion-conscious women: it was a question of attitude. And Veronica's attitude toward her tits was extremely positive.
As she walked into the second floor shoe department, she spotted a new clerk. He was a tall, well-built middle-aged man with stunning green eyes and dirty blond hair. There were few men to whom she was not attracted, but his looks particularly struck her. The way he stood with legs slightly apart and bent, his hands jammed into the pockets of his pants--sexy. Veronica drew in her breath slowly. He was not working with a customer, and she had the distinct impression that he was the only heterosexual clerk on the floor. She walked towards him quickly, her body swinging with a free and easy grace.
He looked up at her approach and smiled. She liked his style. Un-like the usual I. Magnun clerk, he did not immediately snap to attention. He slowly took Ms hands out of his pockets and smiled.
"Hello," he said.
"Hello. You're new, aren't you?" she asked in a soft voice, thrilling to his lazy smile and the cool green of his fringed eyes.
"Yes. I'm supposed to introduce myself as Mr. Bill." His smile broadened, and she knew he would never hold his job at the store. The rich ladies would never tolerate his attitude. like Veronica, he obviously held the world of fashion in slight contempt.
"Then I'll call you Bill and you call me Veronica," she said with a smile. She liked him very much. She imagined him naked on the shore of a lake, imagined the two of them making love in the shallow water near the shore.
"May I help you?" he asked.
"I've no doubt you could," she replied. She turned and sat in a nearby chair.
Bill picked up a stool and sat on it m front of her. Sitting in front and below her, she knew he would soon be treated to a glimpse of her naked pussy. In the meantime, as he sat with his legs wide apart, she surveyed the heavy bulge of his balls in the crotch of his pants. She had a temptation to lean forward and gather the lump into her hand. Instead she lifted her right leg toward his waiting hand. As her leg came up, she saw his gaze fall upon her exposed cunt. It thrilled her to know she was sitting in the middle of the most fashion' able shoe salon in San Francisco while a man gazed openly at the lips of her pussy.
Veronica slowly moved her foot forward and gently pushed her extended toes into the mass at the crotch of his pants. Feeling his balls she sighed and said, "How about something in a size nine and one-half?"
He looked up at her, his mouth half-opened in a smile. "I'm liable to get fired," he said.
"You'll also get your rocks off," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. As her shoulders hunched, she felt the material of the dress ding tightly to her tits. He looked at them, his green eyes no longer lazy but widened now with desire. She moved her foot up from his balls and felt the stiff rod of his prick straining against the shorts.
"There are dressing rooms in the lingerie department over there," she said and moved her head towards the other side of the floor.
He glanced toward the lingerie department and back toward her. "I'll probably get fired anyway," he said with a quickened breath.
Veronica stood up. "I've found," she whispered to him, "that the best way to crash something is to act as if you belong there."
"Got you," he said and, taking her elbow in Ms left hand they walked together toward the dressing rooms on the opposite side of the lingerie department.
Once inside the booth with the curtain drawn, Veronica pressed her hand over her mouth to suppress the desire to laugh aloud. It was a delicious sensation, a marvelous new thrill.
Bill squatted onto the low bench in front of Veronica and pushed her dress up to her waist. Holding onto the cheeks of her ass, he brought his outstretched tongue forward to tease the lips of her cunt. She wondered if he could taste the saliva and the sweat of the truck driver who had only recently fucked her in his truck. She shuddered as Bill's tongue pushed forward and teased her clit into hardness. She leaned back against the wall of the small cubicle and watched the procedure in the full-length mirror attached to the wall. She shivered with pleasure at both the sensation of his tongue skillfully probing the lower walls of her cunt and at the sensation of seeing his face buried in the thick black mass of her pubic hair. She rotated her hips, undulating her body around the hard tongue which was thrusting in and out of her pussy hungrily. She put her hands onto the back of his head and held on tightly, willing him with her body to keep the stiff tongue working ever deeper and deeper.
Having reached as far up the molten tunnel as he could with his tongue, Bill pushed her away from him. Still sitting, he unbuckled his belt and pulled down his fly. Then he stood up, quickly dropped his pants and undershorts to his knees and looked to see if she was pleased with his piece of meat.
Veronica was very pleased. The stiff prick stood out between the tails of his shirt, thick and uncircumcised, pushing forward with leaps and jerks until the fleshy head was completely free of the foreskin. She wrapped her right hand around the swollen member and dropped to her knees.
Bill, however, pushed her away and resumed his seat on the low bench. With his legs spread apart as much as possible with the pants around his ankles, he motioned for her to stand and turn around. Veronica did as he indicated. Bill lifted her dress and pushed his hand against the small of her back so that she would lean forward. Veronica responded to his touch but as she leaned forward from the waist she very nearly lost her balance and almost fell through the curtains of the dressing room. Bill's right arm came around and supported her. Then he began lapping at her cunt while she, supported only by his right arm, tried desperately to thrust her pussy into his mouth, to impale herself again on his hard tongue.
Once her pussy was juicy from Ms mouth, Bill began lowering her towards his prick. More secure in her footing now, Veronica watched in the mirror as the white moons of her ass were lowered towards the twitching cock. Bill steadied the cock with his left hand while with his right hand still around her waist he continued to guide Veronica slowly towards the inflamed head of his swollen prick. Then Bill released his cock, leaned back against the wall and, with both hands around her waist, entered Veronica's constricting cunt from behind.
Veronica felt her face and tits swell with lust. For a moment she didn't move, savoring fully the sensation of the thick prick sliding up her pussy from behind. Then she began to slowly work the walls of her hot tunnel, squeezing the throbbing prick. She looked in the mirror. Bill's head was thrown back and a thin trickle of saliva ran from the corner of his opened mouth. Each time the muscles of her cunt gripped his prick, a slight grimace of pleasure crossed his face. She placed her outspread hands onto his knees for support and began lifting herself up and down over the hot cock. She moved slowly, fully experiencing the pleasure of the massive cock sliding along the hot walls of her expanded tunnels.
It was apparently too slow for Bill, however. He gripped her waist with his hands and began lifting her up and down at a quickened pace, slamming her down with more force each time. She gave herself up completely to his control.
He leaned forward and whispered hoarsely into her ear, "Stand up and sit on it the other way."
Veronica stood up and turned around. He was sitting with legs spread, his pants down around his ankles, the thick cock rising out of the shirt tails and above the heavy sac of his balls.
"Quickly," he mumbled and pulled his tie off.
Veronica straddled his spread legs and lowered herself until the lips of her cunt were directly over the head of his throbbing cock. Bill looked down and used his hand to position the knob for entry. Then he pushed his head back against the wall as he gruffly brought her down, impaling her once again on the passionate shaft.
As the prick shot up into her vagina, Veronica threw her head back and made a low gurgling sound in her throat. She had to suppress a desire to cry out loud with the pleasure of his masterful entry into her aching pussy. Then she leaned forward and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. With his hands locked behind her back, Bill began to pump in and out. Then he pulled back and, without losing a stroke, indicated with his eyes that he wanted her tits to suck on. Veronica quickly undid the catch at the back of the dress and pulled the material forward so her swollen tits jumped free toward his eagerly waiting mouth. The nipples were painfully swollen with lust, and she shivered with release as he greedily took one of them into his hot, wet oral cavity.
Then Veronica put Ms arms around his neck again and closed her eyes. She completely gave herself up to the sensation of being steadily rocked by the prick she straddled. It was like a dreamy boat ride on an increasingly rough sea. She felt the tides of lust and passion sweeping them away toward that wonderful moment when he would flood her with the sea of his hot come.
Veronica slowly became aware of foot steps and an affected voice, saying, "I think this one is free, Madam." Then she heard the sound of a cafe curtain being pushed aside and realized with a shock that someone had parted the curtain on the booth in which they were fucking. She looked into the mirror and saw the horrified face of a sales clerk staring at their entwined bodies. Then the horror quickly passed and the young girl gasped between her teeth. She pushed the curtain shut and Veronica heard her say, "That one is occupied, Madam. Perhaps this one?"
Veronica turned to Bill. His face was still contorted with lust. He was too close to climax to even muster a smile. "We can't stop now," he gasped.
Bill answered her with a grunt and hungrily licked at the nipple of her right tit before taking it into his mouth. She looked into the mirror again. She was straddled his outspread legs, riding rockily on his priming cock, while he sucked at her tit with his eyes closed. Then she closed her own eyes and completely gave herself up to the final throes of their pleasure.
He was pumping into her now with such urgency and force that she felt herself rise off his body with each upward thrust. He no longer supported her with his hands but had squeezed her tits together with both hands and was hungrily sucking first one and then the other nipple. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck for balance and felt the wetness of his sweat-matted hair.
Bill began gasping heavily and quickly as if he had Just run up a flight of stairs. Then his teeth closed about her nipple and she felt him stiffen as the first load of come shot up into her tunnel. Veronica's own passion was unleashed at the same moment and she felt the spasms begin at every end of her body to converge at the center of her being. Then the spasms spread outwards again, passing from her constricting cunt through all her limbs so that she shuddered with pleasure and helplessness. Bill had released her tit and thrown his head back again. Gnashing his teeth and rocking his head from side to side, he had given himself up to the thrill as load after load of come exploded from his throbbing cock into her quivering pussy.
Veronica was the first to recover her senses. She immediately became aware of the tremendous heat which had built up in the small dressing room. Not only was it hot, but the air was heavy with the acrid, bitter-sweet smell of their lust and of their completion. She stood up and leaned against the wall, feeling shaky and dizzy. Still trembling, she pulled her dress back up over her shoulders and surveyed herself in the mirror. She was a mess, but it secretly pleased her to see herself so completely demolished by lust. She reached for her purse.
Bill was still sitting with Ms legs spread, his hands limply resting on the seat beside him, his head still thrown back. His cock was withdrawing, sliding along his thigh towards the blonde, wet pubic hair. Most of his come had not been able to defy the law of gravity but had oozed out of her cunt to settle in translucent pools in his pubic hair and along his balls. He was still gasping with exertion.
The curtain was pushed aside and the sales clerk, her face flashed with anticipation, slipped into the dressing room. "Oh," she whimpered, "you've finished."
Veronica picked up her comb and smiled with an air of superiority and triumph. "Eat your heart out," she cooed.
The girl gave Veronica an angry glance and looked at Bill, who had finally opened his eyes. He was smiling his lady smile again, enjoying the scene and making no effort to pull up his pants or cover his ebbing cock.
"I'll eat more than my heart," the girl whispered hoarsely. She dropped onto her knees in front of Bill and began lapping up the come which had trickled out of Veronica's pussy. Bill smiled and put his hand on the back of the girl's head.
"The balls," he moaned. "Lick those balls clean."
Veronica looked at him and grinned. He winked at her and, looking down at the girl who frantically licked at his huge balls, he shrugged his shoulders.
"Come here," he whispered to Veronica. "While she does that, I'll clean up your pussy."
Veronica stepped forward with a chuckle and lifted her dress. Bill's tongue flickered forward and lapped up the drops of come which clung to the pubic hair around Veronica's pussy. Then he leaned down and pulled a handkerchief from his pants and rubbed her cunt as dry as possible.
The girl was frantically sucking at his now flaccid cock. He pulled away and began drying himself.
"Lunchtime," he mumbled to her. "I'll fuck you at lunchtime."
"Come on," Veronica said quietly but in a tone which suggested she was a great lady who was being kept waiting needlessly. "I really do need a pair of shoes."
"You're too much, baby," he said with an appreciative grin.
He stood up and lifted his pants. The girl squeezed his prick and gave him a pleading look.
"At lunchtime," he said and, pushing her hand away, he stuffed the cock into his shorts and pulled the zipper shut with one swift movement.
"Madam," he said to Veronica with a mock bow. Taking her elbow once again, he steered her back through the lingerie department towards the shoes.
CHAPTER SEVEN
George was trembling as he got into the taxi cab. Trying to sound casual, he said, "The Closet, please."
The driver, an older man who needed a shave, turned in his seat and looked at George.
"Funny," he said and turned away.
George remained silent as the cab pulled away from the curb.
"I say it's funny, because you don't look like a fruit to me," he said.
"I beg your pardon," George said. He was suddenly feeling very defensive. Realizing the tone of his voice, he settled back again.
"Oh, don't get me wrong," the driver said. "I always say you do what you want just so's you lay off the little kids, ya know? But what I meant was, Fin usually good at spotting the fruits and you just don't look fruity to me."
"Maybe you only spot the obvious ones," George said.
"Don't get me wrong, huh? I meant no offense."
They drove on for awhile in silence. George wanted to tell the driver not to call them "fruits," but he was afraid of sounding like an indignant homosexual himself.
"I got nothing against 'em personally," the driver started up again. "Matter of fact, some nights I look for one especially. Sometimes I'll get a cocksucker to take care of me and then we call it even on the fare. You know what I mean?"
"I'm afraid I do," George muttered. He couldn't imagine even the most depraved fairy on his knees before the ugly bastard. He was angry, but he was angry most of all at himself for failing to reach out and slug the driver.
"The way I figure it is by sucking my cock, they're doing what they was made to do."
George bit his tongue and looked out the window. He was surprised to see they were driving into what appeared to be the rough waterfront district. For a moment he suspected that the driver was taking him to an isolated spot to roll him. He sat up and put Ms hand on the back of the front seat. "Is this the right way?" he asked sternly.
"Yup. Gotta hand it to you guys, being so sissified and all."
The cab stopped and George looked up at a discrete sign: The Closet. He reached for his wallet "Hey, you know what I was saving about the fare?"
"Yes," George said as he riffled through his wallet for a small bill.
"Well, I could stand to get my rocks off," the driver said.
George looked at the man. He was smiling at George with teeth which were even more decayed than those of the redheaded whore he had unsuccessfully tried to bang.
"You're joking," George said.
"Look, Mac," he said and glanced towards his crotch. George followed the direction of his eyes. The driver was tightly squeezing his crotch. "I got my hands on something that ain't no joke."
George dropped the money onto the front "Drive around the corner and jack off," he said.
"Why you lousy queer, you think you're too good to suck a real man's cock?"
"Fuck off," George said. His voice was angry and had a sudden depth to it which even startled him. The driver turned away from him and indignantly scooped up the money.
When George had gotten out of the cab and was approaching the door of the bar, the driver leaned out his window and shouted, "Fucking queer!"
Then he stepped on the gas and roared down the street.
George was stunned. He stood on the sidewalk for a moment to catch his breath. He didn't understand at an what was happening to him, what had begun to happen just a few days earlier when he banged Veronica after she had gotten fucked by that kid at the gas station. Was he really queer? He had enjoyed the thrill of being blown in a public rest room, he had failed miserably with a professional woman, he had allowed himself to be insulted by a cab driver until it bad finally become unbearable. He wondered if it had become unbearable simply because it was true. He had, after all, crossed the country to see Philip whom he had sucked off during his freshman year of college.
There was a general burst of laughter and music as someone opened the door of the bar and stepped out onto the sidewalk. The man didn't look like a "fruit" In fact, he looked ordinary except that he was meticulously groomed and had an air of studied casualness. The man smiled at George and George was aware of a probing look in the eyes which stared out at him. He lowered his head and walked past the man towards the bar.
"Sorry about that," the man snapped as George pushed open the door and stepped inside.
George was immediately enveloped by warm, smoke-filled air. The speakers of the juke box blared loudly above the chattering crowd milling about. The bar was packed, and he suddenly felt he might never find Philip in such a throng. Feeling that he might at any moment be attacked by the depraved crowd, he looked around cautiously and realized that everyone was dressed with the same deliberate casualness. Only he wore a suit, and he suddenly felt out of place and uncomfortable. People glanced his way from time to time; some of them smiled at him, some of them turned their backs. No one displayed any interest in either attacking him sexually or in driving him from the bar as an intruder. He suddenly realized that the crowd, if it had been aware of his presence at all, had accepted him as a member. Taking a deep breath, he pushed through the milling crowd towards the bar itself.
He passed by an especially loud group. The members of the group would burst into laughter and then they all glanced around as if to make sure that everyone else was aware of their fun. George paused. The laughing face of a blond man had caught his attention. The features had not changed but they had slackened somewhat so that the soft good looks appeared now to be a slightly petulant baby face. He was about to speak when Philip looked up and saw him.
"George!" he shouted. "Well, I'll be damned." He pushed through his friends and came up to George. He placed a hand on George's arm.
"Philip," he murmured. "It's so good to see you again."
"George, you old bastard. Let me look at you!" Philip stepped back as much as possible and looked at George. As he did so, George noticed that although Philip's face had slackened somewhat he had retained his trim, athletic figure. The eyes, too, were different-- sparkling still but with a restlessness in them that George had not noticed when they were roommates.
"You look the same," George said. "Except for the eyes."
"Oh, my, yes," Philip laughed. "It's how we recognize each other." He waved his arm vaguely and George realized that the men in the bar did, in fact, all have the same expression in their eyes. He didn't quite recognize it, however.
"George, what are you doing here?" He squeezed George's arm and George felt a sensation like a mild electric shock travel up his arm.
"To see you," he said.
"My, that sounds serious." Philip smiled, the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that might have been interpreted as either sad or ironic. "Let's get out of here. Okay?"
"Okay?" George said. He suddenly felt very relaxed and happy. Whatever it was he wanted from Philip was slowly coming into focus. It went beyond the prick which had stiffened again and was caught in an awkward position within his shorts. As Philip turned away to say something to his group of friends, George quickly reached down and straightened out his cock which surged upwards gratefully.
"Phyllis, who is your trick?" someone shouted.
Philip didn't answer. He turned to George with an embarrassed smile and led the way through the crowd.
The cool night air felt good to George. He stopped outside the door and breathed deeply.
"I don't live far from here," Philip said. "Want to walk?"
"Yes."
"George, I've wanted to call you and I started to do it several times, but I always stopped."
"Oh?" George did not really concentrate on the conversation. He was trying to understand what was churning in his mind. It was involved with Philip and the urgent ache in his balls but sex was only a part of it, although a necessary part What was it? He turned and looked at Philip. Philip was gazing away from George, his blond hair moving slightly in the sea breeze. He had a strange compulsion that made him shudder and look away quickly. He wanted both to kiss Philip and to ram his fist into his mouth.
"I wanted to apologize," Philip said and stopped walking. He turned to face George.
"Apologize?" George asked. He searched Philip's face and at last recognized the quality in the eyes which Philip shared with the men in The Closet: loneliness. He looked away and began walking again.
"Well, I treated you-pretty shitty during that year."
"Forget it," George said quickly.
"I can't, George. I treated you shitty because I hated myself."
"Yourself?" He turned to Philip. What was he saying. Why should he have hated himself?
"Well, to begin with I rigged the lottery so that I would draw you for a roommate. I didn't know why I did it until the end of the year. Then I began to realize that, even though I didn't have to do it according to the rules, I wanted to do to you what you had to do to me. In short, I realized I was gay and rather than punish myself I tried to make you pay for it"
There was a long pause. George said nothing, his mind and heart were racing. Philip had wanted him!
"I'm sorry, George. Really."
They had reached the steps of a broken down apartment building. Philip quickly stepped in front to lead the way up. Again George experienced the overpowering wish to both caress and to punch Philip. He shook the urge out of his mind and stepped into the hallway behind Philip.
The man who had answered the phone earlier that evening was not at home. George was startled by the apartment. It was ornate, rich looking with flocked wallpaper and massive potted plants.
"Nice place," he said sincerely.
"George, haven't you heard how clever we all are?" He turned to George with a smile and George saw a flash of irony compound the loneliness in Philip's blue eyes.
"Now that I've shot off my mouth as usual," Philip said. "You said you wanted to see me?"
George felt the pressure of his cock clamped against Ms skin by the jockey shorts. Despite the strong sexual need, he had the distinct impression he wasn't telling the whole truth when he smiled and said, "A repeat performance."
"Serious?" Philip said and George realized Philip was suspicious, that he had not accepted George's statement at face value.
"Serious."
Philip breathed deeply and continued looking at George. "Okay," he said suddenly and turned towards a closed door.
The door opened to Philip's bedroom. When they were both inside he hung a 'Do Not Disturb' sign onto the knob and pushed the door dosed.
"Well, here we are," he said.
"Philip," George said. "I should apologize to you, if apologies were at all necessary, because I have only just this minute realized that I was in love with you."
Philip's head shot up. The expression in his eyes had changed, become clarified. He stepped forward and their mouths met.
Philip drew away and removed George's jacket and turned away to hang it up.
"Just drop it on the floor," George said, surprised at how thickened his voice sounded.
Then Philip loosened the knot of George's tie and removed it. He began unbuttoning George's shirt from the top. He pulled the shirt free of George's pants and, as he slipped it over his shoulders, he leaned forward and ran the tip of his tongue over George's nipple. George closed his eyes and threw his head back, his mouth shut tightly.
Philip dropped to his knees and undid the laces of George's shoes. George lifted one leg at a time, leaning onto Philip's shoulder, as the shoes and socks were pulled off. He was wearing only his trousers and under-shorts now, standing with his legs apart, with Philip on his knees in front of him.
Philip undid the belt buckle, running his other hand over George's crotch as he did so. Then he unbuttoned the waist and pulled George's pants down to his knees. For a moment he stared at the lump which pulsated beneath the cotton shorts. George watched intently as Philip reached behind and slid the jockey shorts over the cheeks of George's ass, pulling them down to his knees. Then Philip took the swollen head of George's cock into his mouth and massaged the sensitive flesh with his strong tongue. Moving forward, he took the entire length into his mouth, clutching onto the cheeks of George's hands and pushing them forward, trying to drive even more of the prick into his mouth.
George's legs began to tremble. In addition to the thrill of seeing Philip on his knees sucking his cock, Philip was a better cocksucker than either Veronica or the young man that morning in the airport terminal. He wished he had more than his seven inches. He wished he had more cock to ram into Philip's mouth. Holding Philip's head firmly, George drew his prick out until just the head was inside Philip's mouth. Philip ran his tongue around the head and then slowly brushed it with his teeth. George sucked in his breath and rammed his cock into the mouth, feeling as if his trembling legs could no longer support him. Philip moaned and dug his fingers into the cheeks of George's ass.
Then George released Philip's head and stepped back, nearly losing his balance.
"Get undressed," he said and fell across the bed.
Philip stood up and quickly began to remove his clothing. He had not lost the trim figure at all. In the half-light of the room his muscles glinted as they had so many years before when he had been George's sexual master. His body was smooth and covered with blond down which went unnoticed except for the areas where it was concentrated. George dropped his eyes towards Philip's cock, wondering if his tool, too, had retained its youthful vigor and attraction. Philip was wearing semi-transparent bikini briefs. His enormous shaft pushed up against the nylon fabric. As he moved towards the bed, George wondered what it was like to feel nylon hugging one's cock rather than the cotton he usually wore. When Philip reached the side of the bed, George sat up on the edge.
Philip was standing in front of him and George looked at the hard muscles of his stomach. He lifted his aims and ran his hands down Philip's side, stopping when he reached his hips. Then he lowered his eyes towards the crotch. Philip's prick was hard, the sheer nylon fabric stretched tautly over it Then George lowered Philip's shorts, reaching inside them with one hand to free the cock. The prick stood out straight, looking exactly as George remembered it, like a pillar of polished marble rising out of a soft patch of blond hair. George moaned, closed his eyes and moved forward, feeling the cock slip into his mouth. For a moment he stopped, his lips pressed up against the base of Philip's prick, his hands tightly clutching the solid cheeks of Philip's ass.
Then Philip drew his ass back and, with his cock half in George's mouth, began rotating his hips.
"Suck. Suck. Sack," he murmured and then he slid it in to the hilt again.
George drew back and patted the bed, motioning Philip to He down. Philip kicked off his shorts and stretched out onto the bed. George crawled on top of him, allowing his full weight to rest on top of Philip. It was a new sensation to feel two cocks pressed between his body and that of his partner, and George savored it fully. Both of thenpricks were slippery from the sucking they had done, and George jabbed his ass forward, thrilling to the cock sliding between their stomachs. He lifted his head and groaned.
Philip put his hands behind George's head and pulled George forward. For a moment George hesitated, but the damage had already been done. He allowed Philip to bring his head closer, but at last George realized why he had had to be with Philip again. He knew that he was not homosexual. He closed his eyes with relief and then he gave himself up to the warm, probing tongue in his mouth. If anything, Philip kissed even better than he sucked cock.
George took his mouth away from Philip's and ran his tongue down the side of Philip's neck towards the shoulder. As he moved his tongue lower and lower, he kept moving his slippery cock between their stomachs, thrilling whenever his cock rubbed against Philip's. At the shoulder, George half-sucked, half-bit the flesh until Philip jerked wildly and pushed him away. Then he moved on towards his chest, sliding his body lower and lower until Ms chest rested across Philip's hard-on and his mouth was just above the navel. He began lapping at Philip's body while Philip moaned and tossed about.
Then at last George was at the prick again, sprawled on his stomach between Philip's spread legs. He took the head into his mouth and, following Philip's earlier example, alternately massaged the head with his tongue and gently scraped it with his teeth. Philip shuddered and thrust his pelvis upwards. George raised himself up and took the whole cock into his mouth, feeling himself break into a mild sweat as thrill after thrill passed through his body.
He continued sucking at Philip's cock until Philip suddenly grabbed onto the side of his head and pulled him away from his prick. The prick jerked beneath him, and then settled back along Philip's stomach.
"I don't want to come yet," Philip gasped. "It feels too good."
George shifted his position and got onto his hands and knees so he was over Philip's crotch and his own prick hung in front of Philip's face. Philip's hands moved up around George's waist and he lifted himself to take the aching rod into his greedy mouth.
George lowered himself towards Philip's cock. He ran the tip of his tongue along the pulsating underside so the prick lashed out frantically. Then he moved his tongue down to Philip's balls. He took the nuts into his mouth one by one then he drew both of them into his oral cavity. Philip jerked upwards with a thrust of his pelvis and George saw the firm, down-covered cheeks of his ass and had a glimpse of the puckered opening. Letting the balls fall from his mouth, George lowered his head, his tongue moving towards the opening he had glimpsed. Philip, continuing to suck at George's rock-hard dick, dug his feet into the mattress and lifted his ass towards George's probing tongue.
George felt a shudder pass through his body as his tongue found the opening and nudged its way inside. He did not know if the shudder had come from himself or from Philip, who moaned loudly with ecstasy. George knew now what he wanted more than anything else. With one last thrust of his aching tongue, he moved back towards Philip's cock. Then he swung around again and got onto his knees between Philip's legs. As he started to suck Philip's cock again, he moved his right forefinger towards the sensitive anal opening. As his mouth slid down to take Philip's prick to the hilt, he pushed his finger up Philip's ass-hole. Philip lifted himself off the bed, crying out with pleasure, and his prick went rigid in response to the pressure on his prostrate gland.
George's chest began to heave as he frantically sucked Philip's cock while simultaneously fingerfucking him up the ass. He could feel the hair on his head getting damp and matted with perspiration, and he was aware of the strong odor of sex hanging in the air. Philip was out of control now. Hanging onto the back of George's head, he thrust his pelvis up and down, cramming his cock down George's throat. When his back arched, George clamped his mouth completely over Philip's cock and he rammed his finger up Philip's ass way passed the knuckle. Philip cried out loudly, and Ms throbbing prick pumped load after load into George's mouth. George worked the muscles of his throat frantically to keep from choking. For the second time in his life, George swallowed the stringy, bittersweet tasting load of Philip's love juice.
Philip's body began to relax and settle back onto , the mattress. Both he and George were panting as George drew away from Philip's rapidly ebbing cock. When George withdrew his finger from the ass-hole, Philip gasped, then sighed as his body went limp.
"Now, it's my turn," George said.
He got onto his knees between Philip's legs. Grabbing Philip at the back of Ms thighs, George hoisted his legs up into the air. He bent his head and licked at the ass-hole for a few minutes. Then he drew back. Philip reached out and held his own legs up in the air. With one hand George held Philip's balls to one side to reveal the pink bud surrounded by the matted soft down. With his other hand he positioned his cock for entry. His head seemed enormous up against the constricting opening. Then he leaned forward and spit onto the head of his cock, moving it back and forth over the opening. Philip swung his legs over George's shoulders and George pushed his pelvis forward. He felt the head slip up Philip's passage and the warm flesh closed tightly around it. Letting go of his prick, he leaned over Philip, his hands positioned on either side of Philip's head, and with one thrust slipped Ms prick up the ass. Philip took a deep breath and held it a moment. His eyes closed.
George had never felt anything so tight in his life. He flexed his cock, felt it squeeze out against the walls of Philip's passage, and groaned. He pushed in even further, shoving forward against the weight of Philip's legs thrown over his shoulders. Philip worked the muscles of his ass with great skill, sucking at George's stiffened prick as if he was going to pull even George's balls into the hot tunnel. George lifted his ass and pushed forward again. He felt perspiration run down his arms and guessed that it was falling onto Philip's nipples.
George leaned back on his knees and held Philip's legs up and away from him with his hands. Philip reached around and stuffed a pillow under his raised ass. George looked down at the exciting sight Philip's prick had begun to rise, stimulated by the pressure of George's cock against the prostate gland. The prick was inching its way slowly but surely across the lower half of Philip's stomach, moving towards the navel. Below the prick, Philip's balls lay in their blond nest And below that, and most thrilling of all, George looked at his cock half into the pink and expanded opening. He pushed his pelvis forward, shivering with the tightness of the passage and with the sight of his thick shaft disappearing into Philip's ass. He rocked his pelvis back and forth, panting over the sensation, the sight and the smell.
Philip's cock was fully erected now and was struggling to stand up straight in defiance of the law of gravity. George leaned forward at an angle, threw one of Philip's legs over his shoulder and spit into the palm of his free hand. He began to massage Philip's prick with the slippery hand. The upper half of Philip's body jerked upwards with a sudden shiver of ecstasy then he fell back upon the bed, twisting his head from side to side, moaning.
George began to pump furiously. His body tingled with the strain of fucking in the kneeling position and from supporting the weight of Philip's leg with one shoulder. He took his breath in large gulps and his mouth felt dry and rough. As he fucked with a frenzied passion, he continued to pump Philip's cock with his. saliva-coated hand. Every nerve in his body was alive sad throbbing as if exposed. In his throat he made low groans.
Philip half reached up and then fell back with a loud cry. His hot come spurted up and hit George on his sweating stomach. The release of the come severely constricted his anal muscles so that George thrilled to the increased tightness about his priming dick just as his own explosion began. He threw Philip's other leg over his shoulder and fell forward with a loud sound as if the wind had been knocked out of him. As he came forward, his stomach slid up against Philip's own come-covered stomach. His prick continued to shoot waves of hot juice up Philip's ass.
George had never experienced such intensity before, and he realized suddenly that it was because he had never controlled sex with Veronica. With Philip he had run the show. He almost laughed out loud at his folly. Then his prick began to withdraw from the passage that continued to close tightly about the retreating member as if to hang onto it. George lifted his ass and his prick fell out of the small opening with a hissing sound. He rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Philip sighed, got off the bed and went into the bathroom. He closed the door and turned on the water tap.
George put his hands to his face and laughed silently. He was not homosexual, after all. It was simply that Veronica had refused to let him be a man. It had taken Philip to help George realize that he was very much a man by giving George complete control in bed. He had no doubt he would have sex with other men in the future, because it had been one of the most exciting times of his life. If that made him a bisexual, then he was a bisexual. There was still one important proof he needed, however: a woman who wanted him and who would not deny him his masculinity as Veronica had.
He sat up on the bed, feeling glad to be alive. Strength came, after all, not from being one thing or the other but from knowing what you were and accepting it. He jumped out of bed and walked towards the bathroom door. He had to thank Philip, had to find someway to give back the peace of mind which Philip had inadvertently given him.
He grinned down at his cock, which swung between his legs. He reached down and put his hand around it. He was a man.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Veronica took the turn which would lead her into the Mission District of San Francisco. With the exception of the black area along Filmore Street, this Spanish Harlem, which radiated out from Mission Street, was probably the roughest area of the city. The city, either out of fear or indifference, neglected the area and the huge palms which lined the main thoroughfare and which were intended to remind Latins of their homes clattered dead and dry in the dusty wind. And right in the middle of this run-down slum was Tony's Club.
By night it was just another honky-tonk club where both eyes and switchblades flashed in the murky light, but by day Tony's dub was a haven for sexually frustrated women who were too prominent socially to openly indulge their passions. For a monthly membership fee of $200, a lady could have all the secrecy and the sex thrills she needed. Tony was clever, and he was very smooth. Veronica suspected that the day would come when the ladies on Tony's secret membership list would be blackmailed for their pleasure. The slimy creep. He ought to be locked away. Or sent back to the Philippines. That would probably be even worse.
Tony had arranged a very slick operation to guarantee secrecy. Members would drive their own cars to areas outside the Mission District where they would be picked up by one of Tony's cars. The carefully trained drivers would always look away as the horny lady slipped into the back seat, which was curtained off, Thus hidden from view, the lady would be driven into the underground parking lot beneath the club, and she would then be escorted up into the club in a darkened elevator. Veronica had, of course, always been in the habit of riding up front with the driver. K he was young and attractive, and Tony usually saw to it that all his men were young and attractive, she would give the driver the opportunity to pick up a few extra dollars. Getting fucked by the chauffeur always gave her a thrill and it always ensured that she arrived at Tony's Club all primed up and ready to go.
The driver who waited for her now was a young, muscular Mexican stud, approximately twenty years old. He seemed startled when she opened the door and moved onto the seat beside him, his large black eyes searching her face with confusion.
"Oh, it's all right," she said with a pert smile. "It's too stuffy back there. IT! ride up front." Her eyes moved from his dark face along his body in the tight-fitting uniform. He was obviously aware of what went on at Tony's dub, because when she looked at his face again, he was grinning and was flushed, apparently pleased to be about to make the transition from driver to hustler Song before his apprenticeship was ended. He smoothed Ms slicked hair with his hand and said, "To the club?"
Veronica shook her head slowly back and forth. She took her underlip between her teeth and softly bit into it. She lowered her eyes towards his crotch again and said, "Someplace where we can pull off the road."
He licked his lips and gulped nervously. He was young and inexperienced at this sort of thing, although she suspected he was adequately skilled at fucking. She knew she could have ban free as a kind of extra bonus but he was probably struggling to support a brood of kids on a paltry salary paid by Tony. Besides, Veronica had no objection to paying for something if it was worth it. She laughed and said, "You're supposed to ask me if I'll make it worth your while."
"Oh? Oh!" He seemed both relieved that she had posed the question for Mm and startled by the directness with which she had done so. "Will you?" he asked, his eyes wide.
"Yes," she replied softly. "Of course."
His sultry face broke into an open, happy smile. "Okay, lady," he said then, with his face suddenly serious again, he added, "And I'll make it worth your while."
Veronica reached over and put her hand over the growing bulge in the crotch of his tight uniform.
"Yes," she sighed with anticipation. "Yes. I'm sure you will."
He started the car and moved out into the traffic..."Yon like Mexican cock?" he asked, his voice strained and tremulous.
"I like cock," she replied. Her own chest began to heave as she leaned back and looked at his tight, muscular body.
"Great," he said. "I like pussy."
Veronica would have preferred not to talk, but to drive silently to a place where he would drive his tool in and out of her insatiable pussy. But he obviously was a young man who needed to talk trash to stimulate himself and to add to his pleasure. Once again recognizing the needs to respond to a man's desires in order to get the maximum pleasure, Veronica picked up Ms mood.
"I like cock up my pussy, in my mouth and even up my ass," she said.
"Baby, I'm going to give you cock like you won't forget," he said gruffly. His dark face was reddened now with anticipation and the lump in his pants was straining to be free and have release.
Veronica smiled to herself, satisfied to know that by playing up to his wishes she had fanned his desire and that, thus enflamed, he would give her a good fuck. She raised her skirt and ran the index finger of her right hand around the lips of her cunt.
"It's getting ready for you," she said quickly. "My hot little pussy's waiting for your prick."
He gulped again and stepped on the gas. The car moved out of the Mission District and headed towards Potrero Hill. He parked the car" along the curb and looked at her. He put his hands between his legs and he was panting. "Let's get in the back and fuck that snatch of yours."
As Veronica got out of the car she looked up and saw a young man standing on a balcony looking down at their car. Since his gaze seemed to be directed at the Mexican driver rather than at herself, she decided he was a fairy who had been aroused by the sight of the Mexican rubbing his crotch. She smiled to herself as she stepped into the car. The fairy, realizing what was about to happen in the back seat of the limo, nearly fell off the balcony. Smiling up at the desperate young man, Veronica pulled the door shut and turned towards the Mexican, who had already entered the rear of the car through the other door and was fumbling with his belt.
"Let me," she whispered. "Let me pull your cock out"
He sat down on the seat and leaned back with his legs spread, his hands resting on either thigh. "It's all yours, babe."
Veronica scrambled onto her knees between his legs. While waiting for her to arrive, he had probably dozed off in the sun, and a faint odor of masculine sweat rose up from the area of his crotch. She leaned forward and buried her face into it, feeling the pressure of his prick through the material. Then she rocked back on her haunches and slowly unbuckled the belt and undid the top button of his pants. First she pulled his shirt free of the pants and pushed it up towards his chest. His muscles were solid and she shivered with delight, imagining the powerful thrust of which he must be capable. His exposed navel, surrounded by a circle of black hair, quivered slightly. She lowered her head and thrust her tongue into the small cavity while her hands ran roughly over his crotch. Still licking at his navel, she moved her hand towards his zipper and lowered it slowly. He wore no underwear, and she felt his stiffened tool force itself up and press against her throat. Pushing the fly of his pants apart, Veronica slowly slid her tongue from his navel toward the prick she felt pushing more and more firmly against the outside of her throat. She shivered to know that soon it would be pushing with equal determination against the inside of her throat.
The Mexican sighed and quickly pushed his pants free of his ass. Veronica continued moving her tongue until it reached the base of his prick, which had stiffened and stretched in a straight line along the route just followed by her tongue. She looked up at it. Reaching to his navel, the fleshy cock moved slowly up and down. She ran her tongue along the underside of the cock, moving from the base towards the pulsating head slowly and teasingly. The cock struggled to stand erect; to thrust itself past the teasing tongue and deep into her mouth.
"French me," he said.
Veronica put her hand around the base of the shaft and forced it into an upright position. Then she ran her tongue around the fleshy head, teasing the slit until he moaned and tried to push her head down. But Veronica was determined to take it slowly. The smell which she had detected earlier was stronger now that his pants were down, and his cock had a slight salty taste which she relished. As she slowly slid her mouth down to envelop his entire length, Veronica felt her mouth expand and her jaws began to ache from the pressure. At about half way down his prick, she felt the blockage at the back of her mouth. Twisting her head with determination, she pushed forward until the cock slid by the obstruction and moved into her throat. She gasped and snorted, struggling to regain her breath, but she was too obsessed to take all of his cock to stop. Finally her lips brushed against his tightly curled black pubic hair.
He put his Bands onto the side of her head and lifted her head so she could look up at him. Beyond the wide muscular chest his darkly handsome face grinned down at her. Still holding onto the side of her head he began to rock his body, moving his prick as much as possible into her constricted throat.
"You look real good with your cock," he moaned softly. "Is it good? You like that Mexican cock?"
Veronica's breath gave out. Held tightly by his strong hands, she could only give him a pleading look. She began to gag and dug her fingernails into the cheeks of his ass with one hand-while with the other hand she grabbed onto his balls and began to pull at them.
He looked panic-stricken, perhaps suddenly remembering that she was in the position of employer. He released his grasp immediately and lifted her head off his prick. She fell across his lower abdomen, gasping and panting with relief.
"I'm real sorry, lady," he mumbled. "I didn't mean... What I mean is... well, shit you looked so damn good with my cock shoved down your throat to the fucking hilt that I..."
"Forget it," she said suddenly and sincerely. She lifted her head and smiled to prove she held no grudge against him.
"You ain't mad or anything?" he asked doubtfully.
"No," she said, suppressing a laugh, "I ain't mad but I am still horny."
For the second time he had cause to break into a happy grin. "You really like the old cock, don't you?" he said, suddenly breaking into a blush which surprised and amused her.
Veronica did not answer him. She leaned between his legs and, undoing his shoe laces, pulled the shoes off. Then she removed his socks and pulled the pants free of his legs. She tossed them carelessly aside and looked at him. "Take off your shirt, too," she whispered eagerly.
He pulled at the shirt which had already been pushed up along his upper chest. As he pulled the shirt free she gasped with pleasure. His chest and arms were even more solid and muscular than she had guessed. The dark skin was tight and rippled across arms and chest.
"like it?" he asked with a confident tone.
Veronica grunted and pulled off her dress. "Fuck me on the seat," she said gruffly, suddenly impatient to have Ms prick rammed into her body with all the tension and strength of his beautiful young body.
"Fuck me till I pass out," she commanded.
As Veronica leaned back across the seat, she half turned and lifted a corner of the curtains. The fairy, guessing their activity, had left his balcony and was nervously pacing up and down the sidewalk along the car. She chuckled softly and let the curtain fall back into place. She was tempted to ask him into the car to witness her success, to watch her getting planked by the stud he so obviously desired.
"What is it?" the Mexican asked. He was on his knees between her legs, ready to enter her aching tunnel and annoyed at the prospect of an interruption or a delay.
"Just some fairy knows what we're up to. Want him to come in and lick your balls while you fuck me?" She knew he would either ignore or flatly refuse the suggestion, but she was half-tempted to push the matter. His answer surprised her.
"Whatever you want," he said with a disinterested expression. "After all, you're paying."
She suddenly understood he had earned his keep by hustling homosexuals when Tony probably found him and earmarked him for hustling high-class dames.
"No," she said thoughtfully, mulling over the new knowledge. "I want you all to myself."
He grinned up at her and positioned the tip of his cock for entry. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and felt a thrill as the heels of her feet pressed up against the tight cheeks of his ass. She pushed with her feet as he slid forward, his head thrown back and his eyes closed, sinking his entire length slowly into the hot recesses of her cunt. He lay on top of her for a minute without moving and she moved her hands along the back of his body where the muscles were tightly knotted with tension. His odor grew stronger, a heavy male odor compounded of sweat and sexual excitement. She understood why musk, the essentialingredient of costly perfumes, came from the balls of male animals.
"Slowly," she whispered breathlessly as he began to pump into her. "Let me feel every inch of it come and go."
He pulled back until the tip of Ms cock nearly slipped from her cunt. He was leaning over her on outstretched arms in a position to do push-ups into her tunnel. He had begun to sweat, and every muscle on his body glimmered softly and seductively in the sunlight filtered through the curtains. Then he lowered himself and rested on top of her, supporting the full force of his weight on his elbows, which squeezed tightly against the sides of her breasts. She shuddered as she felt his balls come to rest up against her ass.
He was gasping and panting in her ear as he arched Ms ass to nearly extract his prick. As she felt his cock withdrawing from her body, she worked the muscles of her cunt to squeeze it and restrain it.
"I need it, baby," she moaned.
The pace of his pumping increased, and he began licking at her neck and the side of her face, wheezing and panting as his passion grew by leaps and bounds. Veronica, driven wild by the movement of his tongue over the sensitive skin, tossed her head and put her hands onto the side of his head. She pulled his searching mouth away from her neck and brought it toward her own mouth. Their mouths met in a wet and passionate kiss, her mouth frantically working to receive the probing of his stiffened tongue.
With their mouths still locked together, she began to beat the heels of her feet against the straining cheeks of his ass. She pulled her mouth free and gasped in a trembling voice, "Faster! Fuck me faster! Fuck! Fuck me!"
He responded with a grunt, driving his hot shaft home with a much quickened pace. She felt the tightness of his stomach against her own flesh and wrapped her arms tightly around him. The force of his thrusts had pushed her forward so the back of her head was jammed up against the side of the seat. She didn't care, because she couldn't stop him now. Even if she had wanted to stop him, he was beyond control with no thought for anything except the hot prick driving in and out of her tight cunt.
Just as her body began to stiffen for the onslaught of her own ecstatic spasms, he broke away from the grip of her arms. Pushing the upper part of his body upwards he threw his head back and, with his mouth wide open, began to gasp and moan. Then his body went rigid, every glimmering muscle tightened and hard. She began to jerk and writhe beneath him, her tunnel constricted with the spasms of her passion, clamping tightly about the cock which pulsated as it sprayed loads of come into her body. Then he fell forward, taking in breath in loud gulps and heaving as the waves of lust subsided in his body.
As Veronica grew quiet beneath him, she became increasingly aware of the pressure of her head pushed up against the side of the seat. She tapped him on the back and then pushed against his chest. He groaned and pushed himself off her body, sprawling onto the seat between her legs. He shook his head as if he had been asleep and was having difficulty waking up. Veronica drew herself up into a sitting position. She fumbled around for her purse and pulled out her cigarettes. Then she dug into her purse and handed him twenty-five dollars. "Here," she said. "I believe that's standard."
"Gee, thanks, lady," he said, no longer groggy. He took the money and flashed a broad smile. "I'll fuck you next time for free."
"Gee, thanks," she murmured sarcastically. Then she lifted the corner of the curtain again. The fairy was still pacing nervously up and down the sidewalk, anxiously searching the car for a crack in the curtain through which he might peer. She chuckled and pulled the curtain wide. The fairy's eyes glanced past her and widened as they fell onto the Mexican's crotch, the cock now ebbing along his thigh.
"Hey, close the curtain," he muttered and put his hand over his prick.
"Don't be so selfish," she said with a laugh. "It'll give him something to jack off about for at least one month."
The Mexican began to grumble and started pulling on his clothes. Veronica slipped her dress over her head and leaned back to afford the fairy the best view possible. Finally the Mexican was fully dressed and began to get out of the car. The fairy, startled, turned and ran down the street. Veronica laughed aloud.
"Hurry," she said impatiently. "We have to get to Tony's."
Then she closed the curtain and smoked a cigarette in the darkened back of the car as they drove back into the Mission District.
After coming into the club via the underground garage and the darkened elevator, lady members were greeted by naked young men who escorted them to then-booths. The club was very dark and each table was partitioned off during the day to form a small booth. A soft small sofa was placed in each of the booths and each member was placed in a booth by herself. Thus it was possible for a woman to arrive into a clubful of women just like herself without being seen by anyone. In the broad light of day the women would almost certainly have recognized each other since Tony catered only to the cream of society, which wasa relatively small and a tightly closed circle. Veronica had often toyed with the idea of finding the master switch and turning the lights on the bevy of bejeweled, panting women.
Each of the booths faced the small stage upon which the most attractive young men and women available performed heated sexual acts. It was one of Tony's primary rules not to cheat the customers with simulated sex. To prove that his customers were seeing the real thing, the men in the acts had to pull out of the woman's mouth, cunt or ass-hole just before coming. Bending forward slightly, they would run to the edge of the stage, straighten up and shoot their loads over the footlights into the darkened audience. A ringside table cost an extra $50 per month. Veronica wondered if the men in the acts, stripped of their dignity or masculinity, hated the women who preyed upon them more than they hated the man who sold them, Tony.
In addition to men dropping their loads from the stage, naked waiters moved among the booths. The waiters and all the performers, both male and female, were available to visit the booths for an additional charge. The men, of course, were in demand the most. They would fuck, suck and be sucked by the hour at a flat rate. It cost a considerable amount extra for them to come with the customers since that usually eliminated them from performing on stage for several hours.
Veronica went to the club frequently and spent huge sums of money for the favors of the waiters and performers. Tony knew her very well, and they held each other in mutual contempt. She thought he was a slimy Filipino bastard, and he knew her for the slut she really was. But they respected each other, and she had been receptive when Tony had first suggested the idea of sex for charity.
The waiter who received her at the elevator was a good-looking man with a bushy black mustache. He kept a very dim flashlight lowered to the floor as he led Veronica towards the front of the club. As they passed a booth from which a great many moans were coming, she leaned across the partition and groped in the dark. She touched the pumping cheeks of a man's ass and ran her hand down and under to feel the thick base of his shaft. Then her hand moved forward, touched the lips of a woman wrapped around the cock and caressed a wrinkled throat. The woman gasped and drew back, obviously startled by the intrusion of a feminine hand. Veronica turned away and chuckled. She reached around and grabbed the waiter by his cock.
"Lead on," she said. "Tally-ho."
By the time they reached her booth, the waiter had a raging hard-on from the gripping pressure of her hand. Veronica stepped inside, quickly threw off her dress and reached for the waiter.
"I'm hungry," she said, feeling the lust building in her body again. "Let me eat your cock."
The waiter pushed her back onto the sofa and got onto his knees, straddling her chest. With one hand he Sifted her head and began fucking her in the mouth. She liked the sensation of merely lying there in a dark room, her head supported by the man's hand, while he fucked her in the mouth. He began to thrust harder and harder. Her right hand moved behind and cupped the swinging sac of his balls tightly. She pushed her hand up into the area directly behind his balls and felt the head of his prick swell in response to the pressure. His cock was of a length she could take easily in the mouth, and she enjoyed the thrill of being fucked in the mouth without the usual discomfort of watering eyes and shortened breath.
Her hand moved further back and sought the sensitive anal opening. Her finger pushed against the tightly closed bud and forced it open. As her finger moved into the tight passage, she felt the muscles clamp tightly around her finger. His prick got even harder as she pushed into his ass-hole with the index finger of her right hand while her left hand sought out her own pussy.
The waiter began to moan. He pulled his cock out of her mouth quickly, and she shuddered with pleasure as the first wad of come struck her against the cheek. It struck her with such force that her head rocked back. The second spurt hit her in the nose and clogged her nostrils. She began to splutter and gag as another hot load shot into her opened mouth.
The waiter stood up. She saw his hand reach across the dark for the standard fee for blowing a waiter.
"Tell Tony," she said, "that in view of what I'm doing for the son of a bitch today that that one was on the house."
"I'll check, ma'am," the waiter said politely.
"Do that," she snapped. "And lead me to the shower. I've got to get ready for the performance."
She reached out and the waiter took her hand. He pulled her to her feet and as soon as she gathered up her dress and purse and shoes, he led her through the club towards the back of the stage. Naked performers milled about the area, looking coarse and tired in the bright lights above their lockers. The waiter pointed towards a dressing room with a star pasted onto the door and Veronica walked in.
Tony came into the dressing room just as Veronica was stepping into the shower.
"I see we're going to have a clean show," he smiled, the gold caps of his teeth flashing in the glare of the naked light bulb.
Veronica ignored him.
"You got a build made for screwing," he said.
"Not by you, you creep."
"Veronica, Veronica. Wouldn't you like a nice Filipino cock up your cunt?"
She turned and looked at him. "Why don't you try taking it personally, Tony? Maybe it's just you I don't get the hots for."
"You get the hots for everyone," he said. He leaned against the wall and watched her.
"Except for you," she growled and stepped into the shower.
She didn't like Tony although she respected him. He had the vices of the worst of his kind and none of their virtues. In a word, he repulsed her with his slicked back hair, the tight-fitting cheap silk pants, the flashy shirts. He looked the procurer he was with none of the polish of a high-class pimp.
When she came out of the shower, he had pulled his prick out of his pants and was massaging it. She glanced down and pretended disgust. Although he was revolting to her, his prick was attractive. She looked at the smooth Oriental skin and noted that he was living proof against the rumor that all Orientals had small dicks. Besides looking smooth and flawless, the brown tool was at least seven inches long.
"Put that thing away," she snapped, "or it might go off."
He chuckled and stuffed the prick back into his pants. The throbbing member was clearly visible beneath the cheap silk stretched tightly over it.
"What's the setup for this thing today?" she asked. She fumbled around in her purse and found a fresh pair of panties, which she slipped on.
"You'll see," he said. "Sure you don't want a quick fuck before the show?"
"No, I don't want a quick fuck," she snapped. She pulled her dress over her head and straightened it out. "Just remember," she said, waving a finger at him, "no animals... and not you."
"No animals and not me," he repeated and nodded his head. Then he asked, "Ready?"
"Why not?"
She followed him out of the dressing room and waited in the wings while he walked out onto the stage.
"Hurry it up," he said to the young man who was fucking a redheaded girl.
The boy grunted, stood up and ran toward the edge of the stage. Veronica watched as his lithe body arched, spraying a hot load out into the audience. The load glittered as it shot through the floor lights and there was an excited gasp from the booth up front. Then the boy turned and walked toward her. As he passed by her, she reached out and squeezed his flaccid prick.
"Any left?" she said and, leaning forward, she licked up the drop of come which seeped through his slit.
"Ladies, may I have your attention, please," Tony-said. "As you all know, today is a very special day for a good cause. You have all paid a special admission price today and the proceeds are going to a very worthy cause, the Molima Home For Unwed Mothers."
Veronica pouted her mouth with disgust. Tony had charged $100 per head for this special event, and she wondered exactly what proceeds would actually wind up at the Molima Home if there really was such a place. You sure are a sharp creep, Tony. Probably sell tickets to see your grandmother get fucked by a bull. Veronica, what are you doing? Veronica, run. What are you doing?
"Although charity needs no rewards," Tony continued, "we have arranged a little something to show our gratitude. One of your number will perform on the stage." He turned and waved his arm towards the wing, and there was a sudden hush over the audience.
They'll all know who I am. Every fucking one of them in their secret little booths with a waiter's cock rammed up their tunnels will know who I am, Veronica! Run!
She shook her head as if in defiance of herself just as Tony threw his arms wide and shouted, "Veronica Wainwright!"
There was a collective gasp from the audience. The extremely wealthy, extremely aloof Mrs. George Wainwright was no better than they. Veronica hesitated for a moment. Hell, if I'm no better than them, they're no better than me. She strolled towards the cot in the center of the stage.
"And now, ladies," Tony said and waved towards the wings. Veronica gasped. Coming toward-her was a stark naked, very tall, black dyke. She spun around toward Tony but he had already left the stage. "No animals and not me," he shouted and then he laughed.
Veronica turned to face the dyke who was coming toward her with a swaying walk. When the dyke was almost in front of her, Veronica snapped, "Where's your dildo?"
The dyke stuck her red tongue through her black lips. Then she smiled and said, "Don't need one, honey."
Veronica steeled herself against the advancing dyke. She forced her mind to concentrate on the earlier events that day, on Tom and Dick fucking her on the clothes dryer and on the kitchen floor, on George juicing up her pussy before he fucked her, on that hairy truck driver with the enormous ten-inch rod, on the expert way-she had manipulated all those men to bring her to the heights of pleasure.
She closed her eyes as the massive black hands, their pink palms turned up, reached up and pressed against her breasts.
"I like a broad with big tits," the dyke murmured. She reached behind Veronica, undid the catch and pulled the zipper down. Then she put her hands on Veronica's waist and began gathering the material up, moving further and further up until Veronica raised her arms and pulled the dress free, shaking loose her mass of black hair.
The dyke leaned forward, her eyes glazed by desire for Veronica's huge tits. Cupping a breast in each hand, she began to kiss the nipples, licking them with her red tongue and moaning in the base of her throat. Veronica was surprised at the feel of the black woman's skin against her own. There was a coarse texture to the porous skin that somehow felt like rough satin. She shivered and looked down. The woman's lips, thick and sensual, were wrapped around Veronica's tit, and her flesh looked extremely white and delicate as it was stroked by the huge black hand.
She shivered again but not from cold. She began to enjoy the sensation. The hands now hungrily fondling her tits felt hot against her naked flesh. As the nipples were teased into hardness, Veronica felt desire building up in her loins. She no longer cared who or what was going to give her release. She could feel the dyke's hot breath on her breasts, gushing for her dilated nostrils like snorts from an enflamed bull.
"Suck them!" she demanded.
The dyke's tongue began to travel over her body, ignoring Veronica's demand that she suck her tits. As her head moved downward to pause at the navel she left a trail of saliva to cool in the draft on the open stage. Her hands were pulling at the silk panties, the only piece of clothing Veronica had left. They moved with urgency, wanting to tear them away from the quivering cunt she desired so hotly.
"I knew on sight you were a hot little bitch," the black woman whispered.
Her tongue moved lower, .sliding quickly over Veronica's trembling stomach to reach the black mound of pubic hair. She was not in a hurry, however, to reach the lips of Veronica's cunt. Possession was already hers; now she would savor it. She had dropped to her knees in front of Veronica. Veronica shivered and threw her head back as she saw the large black hands rise up before swinging around to cup the cheeks of her ass.
When the dyke's tongue finally stopped toying with the lips of her vulva and slipped into her cunt, Veronica's entire body shook with shivers of excitement and she rose up onto her toes. The black woman's tongue was as hard as a prick, jabbing up against her hardened clit. Veronica put her hands on the back of the black woman's head, and she experienced the added pleasure of lacing her white fingers into the thick course natural hairdo. She pulled her roughly into her body.
"Don't tease me!" she moaned.
Her lust was uncontrollable. In order to force penetration more deeply into her hot tunnel, she pushed the dyke backward until she was almost bent like a jackknife. Only her thighs clamped tightly about the black woman's head kept her from toppling to the floor in a heap. The dyke, imprisoned in the awkward position between Veronica's thighs, moaned and dug her fingernails into the white woman's buttocks.
Then Veronica drew away and sprawled across the spot-lighted cot in the center of the stage.
"Come on," she said to the black woman who was kneeling, panting, on the floor. "Eat my white pussy."
Veronica no longer gave a second thought to the audience. She was doing openly what they all did or wanted to do in their secret little booths. She completely forgot about them as she spread her legs to receive the red tongue of the black dyke. Veronica arched her back as the hard tongue pushed forcefully up against her clit and, as her head went backward, she spotted Tony standing in the wings behind her. His cock was throbbing beneath the silk pants.
"Come on, you creep," she called.
Tony grinned and immediately pulled off his shirt, ripping off half the buttons in his haste. Then he kicked off his shoes and pulled his pants free. He wore no underwear and his cock leaped out eagerly. He walked onto the stage in his stocking feet. He climbed onto the cot and straddled her around the breasts with his ass facing toward her. She was amazed at the touch of his hands. Un-like the coarse texture of the black hands which gripped her thighs, the brown skin of Tony was like silk and cool to the touch. She shivered and reached to stroke the cheeks of his ass with her hands while the dyke continued to plunge her tongue in and out of Veronica's cunt.
Tony laid his cock in the cleavage of her tits and squeezed the mounds together. He began rocking back and forth, fucking her in the cleavage. When he withdrew before each renewed thrust, she could see his cock through the space between his legs and, beyond that, the black dyke eating furiously at heir pussy.
Tony turned around and waved his cock in front of her panting face. She lifted her head at a slight angle and he sank the smooth prick into her mouth. She lifted her hands and ran them over his chest, down his sides and along his stomach, thrilling to the unexpected pleasure offered by the cool, silky skin. He laced her hands into the black pubic hair at the base of his prick. It, too, had the texture of silk. She grabbed his tight sac of brown nuts and squeezed them tightly. She wanted more blacks, more Orientals. She wanted more, more, more!
Veronica began rotating her hips, slamming against the lapping red mouth in an effort to get more inside. The bone of the Lesbian's nose was driven hard against her body, and they both cried out with the pain. But pain could stop neither of them now. As Tony began to thrust into her mouth with heightened passion, Veronica wrapped her legs around the dyke's head in a strangle hold. It was a new sensation and one which she relished. She used the strangle hold to increase and decrease the rhythm of the black woman's probing tongue. She was in complete control, the aggressor at one end while Tony thrust into her mouth.
Veronica gasped with the first of her spasms just as Tony began to come. While she gagged and spluttered on his hot juice, her body rose and fell helplessly in the convulsions of her passion. Her legs tightened around the Lesbian who lapped at Veronica's oozing cunt Veronica tossed her head to one side and the come she had not been able to swallow trickled down her cheek. She gasped and struggled to regain control of her breathing. Tony swung off her and sat on the edge of the cot, panting and moaning. Then Veronica released the pressure of her thighs and the black woman rolled off the cot onto the floor, where she lay crumpled into a heaving black heap.
She reached out and put a hand on Tony's leg. He placed his hand over hers and smiled at her.
"I like the way you suck cock," he said.
Veronica's head jerked up with a start. Lost in her lust with Tony and the black woman, Veronica had forgotten where she was. The sound which had startled her was the cheering and applause of the audience.
You bet your ass, ladies. I'm the best!
CHAPTER NINE
George walked the distance back to the hotel. He stepped briskly, his shoulders hunched forward against the unaccustomed chill of the Boston night. He had slept with a man, had enjoyed the sensation tremendously and was sure he would sleep with other men in the future; but he was not a homosexual, although Veronica had almost convinced him he was. He filled his lungs with the chilly air and began to whistle. He wondered if Philip had understood what he had tried to tell him. Looking into the lonely, ironic blue eyes of Philip, George had realized that Philip had completely accepted society's evaluation of himself as a freak, and he had tried to convince Philip that he must never accept another man's evaluation of himself. He alone could decide who and what he was, Philip had, however, looked at him with the same eyes, the loneliness and irony unchanged.
Although he did not say it, George had come to believe that Philip, if he was to be considered sick for sleeping only with other men, was no more sick than a man who slept only with women. What was normal, after all? For George it was normal to experience the pleasures of sex with another human being, male or female. Giving himself up to the full range of human sexual experience, this was what George considered normal. He would never judge another man and, most important, he would never tolerate another man or woman's judgment of him.
Convinced in his mind, George still wanted physical proof of his new conviction. He wanted a woman. A real woman, not a bad actress who would bump and grind her indifferent pussy above his head only after the fee was in her purse. He wanted a woman with a really hot pussy who wanted to be fucked by him as much as he wanted to fuck her.
Reaching the hotel, he walked into the cocktail lounge and looked about for a vacant seat. The bar was not as dark as The Closet, and he had no trouble spotting an empty table near the corner. He crossed the room, took a seat and ordered a double scotch on the rocks.
A woman sat at the table beside his. She was in the full flower of her womanhood, and he judged her to be somewhere in her mid-thirties. Beneath a shimmering cloud of blonde hair, her blue eyes were lowered towards the drink that stood on the table before her. She was fair and lovely with a soft red mouth, the corners of which curved down slightly in a suggestion of a pout.
George wondered how long she had sat there waiting for human contact, how many men had wanted her but had hesitated to approach because their sense of pride could not tolerate the possibility of being rejected. He felt as if he had nothing to lose and everything to gain. His prick began to stiffen within his shorts, and he reached down to straighten it out so when he stood up there would be no telltale forward protrusion. Then he picked up his drink, walked toward the woman and smiled.
She looked up at him as he approached and smiled with her head held to one side as if she were trying to assess his intentions. As her head tipped towards the side, the soft blonde hair fell forward. She pushed it aside with one hand and looked directly at him.
"Hello," he said. "May I join you?"
His confidence and the directness of the approach apparently surprised her. Her smile broadened, and her lips spread apart, revealing the two rows of white, polished teeth.
"Is this a pickup?" she said, still smiling.
"I hope so," he replied and sat down. "My name's George."
She turned to face him, shaking her hair as she did. She leaned her elbow onto the table and rested her chin lightly on the back of her right hand. She was graceful, feminine and seductive.
"You are breaking the pattern," she said.
"What pattern?"
"You're supposed to ask a particular series of questions. Am I waiting for someone? Have I been here long? Do I come here often?"
"Oh? Would you like me to ask them?"
"They aren't at all necessary most of the time. They are designed to give us time to gauge each other's interest and potential, but they usually cause me to lose interest." She drew back and folded her hands onto the lap of her powder blue wool suit. "My name is Yvonne."
"And what do you do? Or is it playing the game for me to ask?" The pressure in his loins began to build up. He wanted to put his head where her hands were, to lap at the smoldering vagina he sensed beneath the soft wool.
"It is part of the game," she said, "but you don't seem to be playing games. I am employed as a Misunderstood Housewife." She drew her head back and laughed softly through parted lips. The lids of her eyes, shadowed with pale blue, were still half-lowered with the silent laughter when she turned to him again.
"Great," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "I am a misunderstood husband."
"Then let's do something about it," she whispered and lowered her eyes.
George's cock surged forward until it was harder than he could remember it ever having been. It was as if the life inside the throbbing tool was going to burst through the skin. Her chest rose quickly. He wanted her desperately.
"I'm staying here," he said.
"Then let's not dally with games," she said and stood up. George rose and took the hand which she extended him. Hand in hand, they walked out of the bar and through the lobby. As they passed the front desk, the bellboy who had sent the redheaded whore to George's room looked with curiosity. George realized the whore had .told the boy about his inability to get it up and keep it up. But it didn't matter. George didn't need anyone else to tell him what a man he was. She squeezed the soft hand resting in his own and held aside the doors of the elevator to allow her to pass inside. As she moved past him, their bodies brushed together and there was a very faint smoldering female scent. His head reeled and his cock flexed with anticipation.
Inside the room, George did not turn on the lights. From somewhere beyond the lowered shade, a neon sign broke the darkness with red flashes of light. George slipped off her jacket and turned to her. She stepped up to him and lifted her face to receive his lowered mouth onto her own. His tongue pushed forward and ran the length of her lips. Then, with a sigh of abandon, her lips parted and his tongue pushed into her mouth, savoring her delicate taste. He slipped his hand beneath the wool of her jacket and ran his palm over the small of her back, relishing the feel of her warm flesh beneath the silk blouse. She leaned against his chest, giving him the full weight of his body and her pelvis rested tightly against the rock-hard cock. She must have felt the pressure of the prick because she squirmed slightly on contact with the bulging mass at the crotch of his pants.
He brought her to his chest and ran the opened palms across the broad expanse, pressing tightly against his nipples. Then she reached for his tie, loosened the knot and pulled it from around his neck. Then she began unbuttoning his shirt, pushing it further apart as she undid each button. When she reached his waist, she pulled the shirt free and pushed it over his shoulders. She stepped back and looked at him in the red light for a moment before bringing her tongue to caress the taut nipples.
George reached down to undo the buttons on the back of her silk blouse.
"It will be easier if I do it," she said and stood back. As she reached behind to undo the buttons, the silk fabric of the blouse stretched across her breasts, which were smaller than Veronica's. They were in perfect proportion to Yvonne's lithe body. She leaned forward with her arms outstretched and shook her hunched shoulders to shake the blouse free from her body. Her hands lifted towards the back of her neck and, throwing her head back momentarily, she again shook the thick, blonde mass of her hair. Then she stepped out of her shoes and walked towards him, and put her hands onto his belt buckle as they kissed again.
When she fumbled with the buckle, George stepped back.
"My turn," he said.
He sat on the edge of the bed and quickly removed Ms shoes and socks. Standing again he undid the buckle and quickly pulled the zipper down. Then he stepped out of the pants, feeling his rod press against the shorts, wetting them with the drop of lubricant which seeped from the slit. As he had removed his pants, Yvonne had removed her skirt. He looked at her and his expanded chest heaved at the sight of her. She was wearing only a bra and pantyhose. She stood with her legs separated, her hands on her hips, looking with anticipation at the . knotted mass in his shorts.
As they kissed again, she reached inside his shorts and placed her warm, small hand around the swollen member, and he felt a shiver pass through her body. He unhooked her bra and pulled it forward. She released his cock, the thick purplish head now protruding above the waistband, and stepped back as he pulled the bra free. Her breasts were firm with a tempting and saucy tilt to them.
She looked down at him and motioned for him to take his shorts off. He slipped them down and kicked them aside. As he pulled the shorts off, she watched him and put her hands onto her tits, drawing quick breaths between her teeth. He followed the direction of her gaze and looked down at his prick. It stood out from his body, waving up and down with the pressure from within. In the flashing light of the neon sign it looked exactly like what it was: a red-hot throbbing instrument of lust.
Yvonne's tongue emerged from between her closed lips and licked at the moisture that had collected in the downward curving corners of her mouth. With her hands she began to roll the pantyhose off her waist When they had been rolled down as far as her crotch she laid on the floor and lifted her legs to finish removing them. George got onto his knees between her legs and removed her hands. He wanted the pleasure of revealing her pussy. She lowered her legs and settled back onto the hard floor.
George put his tongue up against her navel and began licking downwards into the thickening patch of blonde hair. With his hands he began rolling the hose lower, following the progress with his hardened tongue, licking at the quivering lips of her cunt as it came into view. He slipped his hands beneath her and lifted the pussy into his face. As he hungrily savored the acrid . taste of her cunt, he looked up at her. She had arched her back to help thrust her cunt into his face. Beyond the soft pouch of her stomach, he saw her hands holding onto her taut tits, her head tossing on the floor, the blonde hair shimmering in the flashing red light. He groaned at the sight of her, his lust mounting as his cock jerked wildly against the inside of his thighs. He squeezed his legs together, trapping the jerking dick between them, and felt the slippery drop of lubricant ooze from the enflamed head. He grunted with pleasure.
He began pulling at the pantyhose with a determination to remove them from her quickly.
"Rip them off," she moaned. He obeyed her instantly, easily tearing the fabric. Then he leaned back to pull them off her legs.
Then Yvonne sat up and pushed against his chest. Taking her clue, he leaned back, stiffening at contact with the rough nubby texture of the cheap rug. Yvonne crawled on her hands and knees and then swung her leg over his body so her pussy was directly above his face, her own hungry mouth licking at the head of his tool. He slipped his hands around her waist and pulled the constricting cunt towards him, raising his tongue to meet the flesh. She jerked up and down, thrusting the mound towards his stiffening tongue which entered her molten tunnel and struck the hardened clit with each thrust of her body. As she lifted her body before each downward thrust towards his tongue, he saw her anus, the pinkish muscles constricting with each movement of the rounded white cheeks of her ass. His own back arched in an effort to force all of his cock into her throat.
Yvonne was moaning heavily. He raised his head and looked between her spread legs. She was leaning with one hand planted on either side of his jerking hips, the arms stiffened to support her. Her breasts swung down, lightly brushing against the surface of his heaving, muscular stomach each time she lowered her head to take the upright rod into her sucking mouth. Between the cleavage of her swaying tits, he could see the underside of her chin, her lips wrapped tightly around his shaft and her nostrils. Her nose was running with the attempt to take all of the cock into her oral cavity. She pressed forward with renewed determination, her breasts flattened against his chest, blocking his view, and his head dropped back in ecstasy as he felt the entire shaft slide down her willing throat Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her cunt towards his mouth, greedily lapping at it and thrusting his tongue into the hot love tunnel as deeply as possible. She slammed forward in an attempt to get even more of the hard tongue inside her body, and her pelvis bone crashed against his chin. She moaned and shivered. Then she sat up, rocking back so that for one breathless moment the ahwas cut off as George's nose was buried in the crack between the cheeks of her ass.
Yvonne lifted herself, swung her leg over him and rolled onto her side, gasping and panting, her nose drawing back the mucous which had formed while she had frantically sucked at George's member. George rolled over, too. She cradled her head in the crook of his arm as he lay on his side and ran his extended palm along her body, pushing against the firm tits and the soft stomach. She moaned and lifted her mouth to kiss him. Then his palm nestled over her wet tunnel. Separating the lips quickly, he slipped the fingers of his hand up her cunt past the knuckles so that she jerked forward, clinging to him tightly and moaning.
Then George crawled panting to the space between her spread legs. As he got onto his knees and positioned the knob for entry, her hands reached down and she parted and massaged the lips of her slit. As George leaned forward for entry, she withdrew her hands from stimulating her own pussy. Placing them onto his back, she dug the nails into his flesh and pulled him forward, He shot into her with a powerful thrust. Yvonne scratched at his back and arched her back, moaning and gasping at the sensation of his prick ripping up the walls of her scorching tunnel.
George spread his legs slightly to support the upturned cheeks of her ass with his strong thighs. He began to pump with a rotating thrust, probing her tunnel so that she jerked wildly beneath him, maddened with pleasure and lust. She flung her arms around his head and locked them around his neck, drawing him down in a passionate lust-crazed kiss. Then she tore her mouth away from his and began to gasp loudly. George continued to .fuck her, the shinbones of his legs, scraping against the rough rug. He felt his own flood of passion beginning as she began to twitch, with the first of her spasms.
Her head rolled back and her tongue protruded from her opened mouth. "Kiss me," she moaned. "Kiss me."
George began to kiss her wildly, but then she pulled away, jerking her head free of his grasp, lost in the sensation of the spasms which George could feel shooting through her body. Then his own climax began. He jabbed his pelvis downwards, holding his prick in to the hilt, and threw his head back, his back curved backwards. He gasped and drew in his breath with great gulps, and his dick exploded with love juice inside her tunnel, which constricted tightly about the swollen member. Then George threw himself to one side and collapsed onto the floor beside her, his pelvis still locked with hers, the prick still gushing with the juice of their lust.
She shuddered with waves of release and threw one hand across her tits still heaving with abandon.
After awhile Yvonne pushed herself up into a sitting position. She looked at George and smiled. Her hair had become completely disarrayed during their passionate lovemaking, and the soft blue shadow on her eyelids had smudged and run onto her perspiring face. She looked as satisfied as George felt.
"I must look a mess," she said. He didn't get the impression that she was fishing for compliments, that her remark was a ploy to elicit an undeserved compliment.
"You look satisfied," he answered. "And that means you look beautiful."
"I am satisfied," she said. She stood up and stretched, nearly losing her balance. He looked up at her. Her arms were stretched out as she lifted herself onto her toes to stretch completely. Her taut nipples rose up saucily and her cunt thrust forward.
"And I feel very beautiful, thanks to you." She reached for her purse and walked towards the bathroom. "The world, however, might not think so," she said with a laugh as she stepped into the bathroom.
George clamped his hands behind his head and stared at the splashes of red light flashing onto the ceiling.
He had been wrong to assume that Philip had given him back his sense of masculinity by allowing him to control the sex. Yvonne had controlled their activities as much as he had. It was not, then, control during sex that made a man. It was something else, a mutual sharing of each other's body. Veronica did not share. She drained. She looked at him and probably looked at all her lovers as no more than instruments upon which she impaled herself to satisfy her lust. She squeezed the come out of a man with an attitude that also stripped him of his dignity. No more.
He jerked his head up and grinned. His cock, suddenly as insatiable as Veronica's cunt, was inching along the lower half of his stomach.
"Yvonne?" he called.
She appeared in the doorway, the light from the bathroom blazing behind her with the red light flashing onto her front. She stood poised as if about to break into fluid movement, one hand resting lightly against the door jam. She smiled, a question in her eyes.
He thought she looked like a disheveled goddess, an extremely desk-able goddess. His cock was completely hard again, and he felt it strain upwards and then slap gently against his lower abdomen.
"How about seconds?" he asked with a catch in his throat.
"Oh, yes!" she answered and moved quickly across the room towards him. She stood over him for a moment, savoring the sight of the man stretched out on his back with his hands behind his head, the cock straggling to rise up and falling back against his taut stomach muscles. She straddled him and then slowly lowered herself on her haunches so the mouth of her cunt was over his pelvic area.
George sighed with growing anticipation and brought his right hand forward to position his prick for entry.
"No," she whispered urgently, "let me do it."
"Do it good," he moaned and put his hand back behind his head, completely giving control to her.
Yvonne took his prick into her hand and held it in an upright position so that the thick head brushed against the lips of her cunt. She moved the cock slowly, brushing the head in a circular motion around the lips until he began to shiver from the sensation and moved his hips in a jerking motion, demanding penetration. Then Yvonne lowered herself further and the head moved into the wet cavity slowly. She remained on her haunches and placed one hand on either side of George's body. She dropped onto him slowly, restraining herself to give them the maximum pleasure from the penetration. George felt the hot walls of her love tunnel envelop his aching rod. He was tempted to grab onto her hips and push her completely over the prick with one swift stroke, but he left his hands behind his head. His body stiffened and his neck arched as she moved closer and closer to the base of his prick. Then at last she had completely impaled herself upon the prick. Then George did place his hands lightly on her hips. He flexed the head of his cock and felt it press against the snug walls of her smoldering cunt.
"George," she gasped, "you make me so hot. YOB make my cunt feel so good, George." She threw her head back and moaned. Using her hands for leverage, Yvonne began to raise and lower herself onto the stiff prick.
He raised his head and watched her as she moved her body up and down in the flashing red light. Each time she raised herself, the shaft of his cock, wet and pulsating from their passion, flashed in the light. Then just as the head of the cock was at the doors of her pussy, she slid down again and the flashing red tool was buried to the hilt in her blonde muff. She was bringing him to the heights of pleasure, and he already felt the familiar ache deep within his nuts. While she continued to rise and fall onto his prick, George massaged his balls with his hands, kneading the heavy sacs and squeezing them.
Yvonne lifted herself completely free of his prick, and the hard tool jerked upward wildly and then slapped against his stomach with a smacking sound. She got onto her hands and knees on the nig. "like a dog, George," she whispered in a voice made hoarse by lust. "Fuck me like a dog."
George's heart pounded wildly at the command for him to assume control again. He scrambled onto his knees behind her and caressed the white cheeks of her ass, relishing the touch with his hands as much as he knew he would enjoy the touch of them against his stomach. Yvonne moaned and backed up slightly, her pussy eager to reclaim the prick he was so willing to give her. Spreading the lips, of her cunt with one hand, he grabbed onto his cock with the other hand and positioned it for entry into the waiting opening. He slid forward easily, his back curved inward with the thrust, until his stomach pressed firmly up against her ass and his heavy balls swung in the air beneath the upturned cunt. He circled her waist from behind and massaged her lower abdomen as if trying to grab the hard tool buried beneath the soft, white flesh.
Yvonne had dropped her head, and he knew she was looking up from beneath, watching the pumping of his prick into her cavity. He moved in and out of her with a rotating motion so he could have the pleasure of maximum contact with her slippery walls and so she could have the pleasure of seeing his heavy and aching nuts swinging freely in the air. He wished it were possible for her to suck on his balls at the same time he fucked her. Leaving one hand on her hip, he lowered his other hand around and cupped the balls, knowing the sight of his hand massaging the hairy jewels would add to her stimulation. She moaned with frustration as if she, too, wanted to suck on them.
She lifted her head suddenly and looked at him over her shoulder, her mouth pursed in an imagined kiss.
"Faster," she moaned softly. "Fuck me faster."
George knew now that their lust would know no bounds, that their earlier passionate sex had been only a preliminary trial run for this encounter. He grunted and drove in and out of her with increased vigor, his balls swinging forward now with such force and momentum that they swung completely forward and slapped against the soft pouch of her lower stomach with each forward thrust of his stiff rod.
There was a sudden and an insistent knock on the door. Both of them growled with impatience. George ceased pumping and remained with his dick buried into her cunt while they waited for the unexpected visitor to go away. The knock, however, came again, louder and more demanding. George pulled out of her cunt, although she worked her muscles to restrain him. She whimpered with disappointment as the cock fell free. "Some stupid son of a bitch at the wrong door," he said harshly. "I'll get rid of them."
He walked towards the door, holding his balls and the shaft of his aching prick in one hand. Standing behind the door, be opened it a crack and leaned forward to peer out. At first he stared in puzzlement at the smiling intruder and then he recognized the bellboy who had fixed him up with the red-haired hooker. "What is it?" he demanded gruffly.
The bellboy smiled with cocky assurance and ran one hand through his curly black hair. He attempted to peer past George into the room, but George pushed the door closed so that it remained open only a slight crack. The bellboy grinned.
"George? What is it?" Yvonne called. He turned to her. She was still on her hands and knees on the floor waiting for the return of his prick up her-cunt. There was a nervous edge to her voice.
While George was turned away from the door, the bellboy pushed his way into the room and shut the door behind him. He looked at Yvonne who was too frozen with sudden fear to move. She looked like a wild animal about to spring out of danger. She looked up at George.
"Well. Well. Well," the bellboy murmured. "I guess I'll just have to report this to the management."
George looked at him with disbelief. The bellboy continued to smile in a noncommittal way, and George suddenly realized they would not be reported to the management if they gave the bellboy whatever it was he wanted.
"What do you want?" he demanded coldly.
"Well, I know what you don't want," he answered. "You don't want the little lady here to get into trouble. And I don't want no trouble, either."
"Well, what do you want?" Yvonne demanded, her voice rising with alarm at the prospect of scandal.
The bellboy looked at her. "To pitch in," he said and put his hand onto his crotch, rubbing at the swollen mass beneath the tight-fitting material.
George's cock had dwindled to its most flaccid state during the scene with the bellboy, but now it surged forward with increased passion at the suggestion of another party to their lovemaking. He looked at Yvonne with the question in his eyes.
She shook her blonde hair free of her face and smiled. "I'm hot enough," she said.
"Great," the bellboy answered with a sigh of relief and anticipation. He immediately began to undress. "Proceed," he said to George, "I'll be right there."
George crossed the room and got onto his knees behind Yvonne again. She moaned and backed up, helping him insert his ramrod hard prick into her hungry pussy. He slid in quickly and began pumping her at a steady pace. He looked over at the bellboy who had stripped off all his clothes except for his pants. George watched as the young man fumbled at the belt and then, pulling his pants free of his slender hips, stepped out of them and walked toward them. He was a good-looking man, perhaps too arrogant in his attitude, but with a solid body and a good-sized prick.
The bellboy squatted on the floor before Yvonne and then slid his body under her so that he was lying down with her head above his prick.
"Eat me," he moaned.
Yvonne lowered herself onto her elbows and began licking at the young man's dick until he cried out softly and, placing his hands onto the side of her head, demanded, "Suck it!"
Yvonne responded to his command quickly. Looking down the slope of her back and past her hunched shoulders, George saw the back of her head rise up and then drop again. The bellboy moaned and half raised the upper half of his body as she took the cock into her mouth, and then he fell back again with a sigh of pleasure. George wished there was a convenient mirror in the room. He would liked to have watched Yvonne suck the bellboy's cock while he pumped in and out of her molten cunt with an increasingly quickened tempo.
The bellboy raised himself up on his elbows and alternately looked down at Yvonne sucking his cock and up at George who was fucking her from behind. He smiled at George with contentment and raised one foot so his toes came into contact with George's aching nuts. He shivered as the probing of the foot against his balls became more and more firm.
"Let me swing around the other way," the bellboy said suddenly, breathing heavily from the passionate working of Yvonne's mouth. Yvonne lifted her head,-and he quickly reversed his position so that his head was now beneath George's cock as it entered and left the dripping tunnel of her quivering cunt. As Yvonne lowered herself to resume sucking him off from the new position, the bellboy stretched out his hands and ran them along the outside of George's thighs. Then the hands moved to the firm cheeks of his ass, which knotted tightly with every thrust into Yvonne. Finally the bellboy's hands moved forward and softly squeezed George's balls. George moaned and rotated his hips, increasing the pleasure for all of them.
George's hands were on Yvonne's hips, and the bellboy's hands reached around and grabbed onto his forearms. Using George's forearms for support, he pulled himself up so that George's balls brushed against his lips as they swung back and forth. George shivered and gripped Yvonne's hips tightly as he felt the bellboy's tongue flicker across his balls, licking at them hungrily. George was in the throes of pleasure. Using pressure from his thighs, George forced Yvonne's legs further apart so their interlocked bodies were lowered closer toward the bellboy's striving mouth. The boy responded quickly and took one of George's balls into his wet and warm mouth. George shivered as the bellboy rolled George's ball around the mouth. The ball was held firmly in the bellboy's mouth and each time George withdrew from Yvonne's cunt he felt the sac stretch and give until he thought it would tear free of his body. Then he moved forward again and the bellboy sucked hungrily as if trying to get at the tiny hard nut wrapped in the soft skin.
George no longer thought of anything except the sensations coursing through his loins. He was aware of Yvonne's increased moans and of the gurgling sound coming from the bellboy's working mouth. He saw the back of Yvonne's head bucking wildly as she struggled to keep her mouth clamped onto the bellboy's prick as he began to twist and thrust upward beneath her. Then he closed his eyes and felt only the wet warmth which enveloped his cock, his balls and spread through his entire body. He had never been so hot before, so totally in the power of a raging lust Then just as if lie had shoved a wet finger into an open electrical outlet, the wet warmth turned into a moment of blinding sensation that shot him far beyond pain or pleasure. He went completely with the sensation as it tore through his body, lost to it and no longer wondering if it were pain or pleasure. Then he felt the searing flash pass, and he felt the warmth again which was almost unbearable and he knew that it was the heat from his juice as it spurted into Yvonne's cunt.
Yvonne was also in the grips of her release. With her mouth clamped securely onto the bellboy's wildly jerking prick, her body shivered and quaked helplessly while the muscles of her cunt clamped onto George's cock tightly as if determined never to release the cock from its scorching embrace. The bellboy's teeth were gently digging into the flesh of George's balls. Then he opened his mouth and, with a sudden cry, he fell back upon the floor, gasping and panting hotly as his own juice tore through his body and splattered into Yvonne's mouth.
Yvonne, her body covered with sweat and still quivering with the tension of release, pulled away from George and crawled away. With a heavy sigh she sank onto the floor and lay panting and moaning with her mouth opened.
The bellboy lay flat on his back beneath George, his stomach heaving as the diminishing shudders passed through his young body. George lowered himself so his balls rested against the gasping mouth of the bellboy and fell forward, supporting himself on outstretched hands. He shivered as he felt the tips of the bellboy's fingers brush over the cheeks of his ass. George was still trembling and panting from the exertion as the bellboy slowly and absently licked at his balls. The tip of George's cock was resting at the base of the bellboy's throat. He felt it pull away and withdraw, flaccid and satisfied, it lay across the bellboy's cheek.
The bellboy's cock had gone limp, too. It lay across his lower abdomen, the thick shaft buried in the curly black hair, which glittered in the flashing neon light from Yvonne's saliva. George smiled with complete satisfaction and swung his leg over the bellboy's head. He dropped onto the floor and lay flat on his back with his arms opened wide with abandon. It had been a beautiful and a thrilling experience, and he would never again restrict himself sexually. For a fleeting moment he half wished the blonde muff which had brought him so much pleasure had been the dark, black muff of Veronica. He sighed, suddenly tired, and happily fell asleep.
CHAPTER TEN
Veronica gripped the knob of the stick gear shift as if it were the smooth head of a cock and smiled. That Tony is a slick son of a bitch. Maybe he's right. Maybe we are two of a kind.
While she had still lain panting on the cot in the center of the stage, Tony had jumped up suddenly and had run backstage. He had returned quickly, a broad grin on his face, holding a cigarette aloft, "Now, ladies, act two," he had shouted.
Then he had sat on the edge of the cot and had whispered, "Spread your legs."
Veronica had spread her legs, curious to know what Tony had had in mind.
He had pushed the cigarette into her wet cunt. Then he had withdrawn it and had held it up for the audience to see. There had been a puzzled murmur from the crowd and Veronica had said, "You silly bastard, am I supposed to have felt that?"
"Shut up and hoist your legs into the air," he had replied. "You'll get a kick out of it I know because we're two of a land, you and me."
As she had held her legs into the air by grabbing onto the backs of her thighs with both hands, Tony had tried to push the cigarette up her ass. The cigarette had become damp from being in her cunt and it started to break apart. Then Tony had pulled out the cigarette and walked towards the center of the stage. Still naked, his limp brown cock glistened in the light as it hung down from the nest of silky black hair. Tony had raised the cigarette with one hand and had dramatically pointed at it with the other hand.
"Whichever one of the waiters will smoke this cigarette gets to fuck this hot society lady up here in front of all her society friends," he had announced.
There had been a few gasps from the audience and Veronica had suppressed an urge to laugh out loud. By identifying them with her, Tony had decided to jolt them out of their sense of security in the dark booths. Veronica had wondered if he, too, had ever considered the possibility of turning on the lights.
A tall, young Latin-looking man with a build like a stallion had jumped up onto the stage. He had taken the cigarette out of Tony's hand and had shouted for someone from backstage to toss him a light. Then he had walked towards Veronica, his halferected prick in front of her face. He had sneered at her. "I've wanted this for a long time."
Tony had backed off the stage with a satisfied smile on his face. If he had planned to vicariously humiliate all the women in the audience, he had also planned to humiliate Veronica.
The young stud had taken a few puffs on the soggy cigarette and had tossed it aside. He had crawled onto the cot. Veronica had understood the look on his face. He had been made to feel like a male whore and it had wounded his vanity even though he had been nothing more than a cheap stud for hire. She had slipped out from under him and had walked towards the center of the stage. Naked before women she had known recognized her only too well, she put her hands on her hips and had said, "Sure, but there's only one condition."
She had turned to look at Tony. He had been standing off-stage, had been looking at her curiously.
"The condition," she continued, "that before this gorgeous piece of virile manhood fucks me, he has to fuck that son of a bitch in the ass!"
There had been a spontaneous roar of approval frees the audience. The young stud had grinned, flashing white teeth. "That's even better," he had said.
Tony had turned to run, realizing that Ms male whores would be only too glad of the opportunity to knock him down a few pegs. But two of the husky male performers had grabbed him.
The two men had dragged Tony onto the stage and had stretched him out on the cot. The two men had held him down while the young stud, his cock fully bard and hinging forward eagerly, had got onto his knees between Tony's outspread legs. Veronica had stood on the cot, straddling Tony and facing the young stud. The young stud shoved Tony's feet into her hands and she had pulled them backwards, forcing the smooth cheeks of his brown ass to rise up. Veronica had shuddered when she had realized that the stud wasn't even going to spit on his dick first He was going to ram that thick tool up Tony's ass with no thought at all for his victim's comfort.
Veronica had looked over her shoulder down at Tony. Held firmly by the two muscular men, his head jerked back and forth as he tried to kick his legs free of her grasp.
"Tony," she had said, "it doesn't hurt so much if you relax."
Just as she had turned away from him, the stud rammed into Tony with all his force. Tony had screamed out in pain, and she had felt the force of the thrust as it had rippled up Tony's legs and passed into her own hands.
The stud had forgotten the promised fuck from Veronica. He pumped furiously, his tight stomach coated in sweat. Then he had pulled his gigantic and throbbing tool from the tight brown ass-hole, and Veronica had felt startled to see blood on the thick shaft. She had jumped aside, the stud had straightened up and had shot his load in great globs, which struck Tony's chest and face. The two men who had been holding Tony released their grip. Tony had been too weak to move. He had panted and gasped, unable to catch his breath.
Veronica had leaned forward and lapped some of the hot liquid from his chest. Then she had walked towards the center of the stage, her fists clenched over her head like a fighter. There had been a wild burst of applause and cheering.
Veronica had turned towards Tony. He had finally succeeded in catching his breath, but he had still been too weak to sit up. Lying there, he had shouted weakly, "That bastard is fired."
Veronica had laughed and walked off the stage.
Her chest still heaved with the sensation of triumph as she drove towards Hillsborough, her hand caressing the knob on the gear shift It was already getting dark. She saw a track stop up ahead and an old car pulled up in front of the diner. She swung off the freeway and pulled up alongside the car.
Two policemen were sitting at a small table inside the diner. One of them, the one with close cropped black hair was leaning back against the wall, his left leg lifted and sprawled over the seat beside him. His partner, with curly brown hair and a soft looking mustache, was sitting across from his, his legs spread wide apart The one with brown hair looked like a big man to Veronica. They'll do very nicely. She checked her appearance in the rear view mirror and, getting out of the car, she strolled into the diner in her best society manner.
"Oh, officers," she said as she strode towards them. As she moved, she was very aware of the manner in which the expensive little dress suggested the mounds of her breasts without dinging to them. She was aware, too, of the way the fabric clung to the front of her thighs as her legs moved forward. "Officers, I am so glad to see you!"
The one with the close cut black hair quickly removed his leg from where it had been casually sprawled across the seat beside him. They both moved to stand up.
She waved then motion down and said, "Please, don't get up." She stood in front of them and smiled her prettiest smile. Oh, yes! They'll do very nicely indeed. Fuck me! Fuck me! Out loud she said, "May I sit down?"
"Please. Please do."
She glanced at the one with black hair as she sat beside him. He was small and tight with shiny black eyes that had a cold gleam to them. He smiled, an insincere smile, revealing perfectly white teeth. "I'm Veronica Wainwright," she said.
"I'm Harry Carson," he said. "This is Stevie Thorn."
She glanced at the other officer. "Hello, Stevie."
"Ma'am," he said and nodded, quickly glancing up at his partner, then lowering his eyes towards his coffee cup.
Veronica decided mat Harry, the small tight one, ran the show. Stevie was a great, hulking man with massive hands and chest Veronica felt a thrill as she wondered if he were massive elsewhere. He had very thick, very curly brown hair with a great drooping mustache.
Veronica ran her eyes over his stooped shoulders and said, "With that hair you look like Shirley Moppett, the child actress."
Stevie's head shot up, and his face had paled. He shot a nervous glance at Harry and glared at Veronica.
"Oh, don't misunderstand," she said quickly and leaned forward. "It's the first time I ever thought of little Shirley being sexy."
Stevie's face lit up with a broad, happy grin. He flushed with pleasure, his skin a deep red, and turned towards Harry.
Veronica smiled and settled back into her chair. She let her purse slip onto the floor and bent quickly to retrieve it. She looked over between Stevie's outspread legs. Her remarks had had the intended result He must have been wearing boxer shorts because she saw the stiff bulge protruding along the inside of his right thigh. Satisfied that he really was built big all over and that she knew how to approach him, she began to lift her head back, dancing up, she stared past Harry's crotch and saw him smiling down at her. She knew he had understood her perfectly.
"Now, what can we do for you?" Harry asked when she had straightened up in the seat. He leaned back against the wall and slid forward in his seat. She resisted the temptation to look at his crotch to see if she could detect a growing erection beneath the blue uniform. But his partner was the shy type and she didn't want to scare him off. She wanted both of them. Together. She had a feeling that Harry wanted it, too.
"Well, I expected to get home before dark. My husband and all the staff are away. The house is empty and unlocked. Now that it's dark I'm afraid to go inside alone. With that rapist loose and all." As she concluded, she looked wide-eyed at Stevie.
"Well, Ma'am, where do you live?" he asked.
"In Hillsborough," she answered.
"Well, that's not our district," Harry said. "And we're off duty now."
She looked at him out of the comer of her eye. His mouth was covered by his hand. He was smiling, and she knew he was playing games with her.
"Hey, Harry," Stevie said. "Harry, that's not right now." Then turning to Veronica, he said, "We'll see you home, Ma'am."
"Thank you," she said and immediately stood up.
The quickness of her movement was calculated to throw Stevie off guard. His sense of propriety was too strong to allow him to remain seated while Veronica stood. He stood up, leaning forward at the waist as if to cover the thickened shaft pushing down and out along his leg. He blushed and grabbed for his hat. As Veronica turned to Harry, she saw his eyes riveted to the enormous lump in his partner's pants. Veronica turned away and the men followed her out. Harry was behind her, his thumbs hooked into his gun belt. Stevie, his hat held In front of his crotch, limped along behind them, his face beet red.
"It'll be easier if I ride with one of you and the other follows in my car," she said and tossed the keys toward Stevie. In order to catch the keys, he had to let go of his hat. Veronica's breath caught. The lump in Stevie's pants moved halfway down his leg. Then she smiled at Harry who was leaning against the car, his hands hooked into his gun belt, smiling at Stevie. Then Veronica got into the passenger side of the old car and watched Stevie scramble for his hat and lower himself into her sports car. For a moment she panicked that he might pull off the road somewhere and beat off. Then she remembered he had to follow Harry and her.
Harry got into the car beside her. "Where to?" he asked. She gave Mm the directions quickly and simply then settled back in the seat.
When they got back onto the freeway, Hairy reached down and unsnapped the buckle of his gun belt. He pulled it free and tossed ft onto the back seat. "I need a little more room there," he said and slouched down into the seat.
"How much room?" she asked, trying to detect a lump in the darkened car.
"Enough," he said. He turned and looked at her, his black eyes glinting with the sudden glare from a passing car. "How'd you like to eat me as we drive?"
Veronica felt herself getting excited, but she said nothing. She tried to look away, but the sound of his fly unzipping drew her attention back to his crotch. He had unzipped his pants and had slipped his right hand inside them while he controlled the car with his left hand. "Well?" he said. He withdrew his hand. The fly was parted, revealing the white underwear which covered the object of her desire. She squirmed in the seat and reached towards the opened fly.
"You do like to suck cock, don't you?" he whispered.
"Let's find out if you've got one first," she snapped.
She put her right hand into the opened fly and squeezed the erected member. "Pull it out of the fly," she said.
Harry reached inside and worked Ms prick out through the fly of the underwear. The hard shaft was bent nearly double as he pulled it into the open. He flinched, nearly losing control of the car. Then the cock stiffened and stood upright below the lower rim of the steering wheel.
Veronica half laid across the seat and moved her head into the space between his stomach and the steering wheel. He was not big, about six inches long, but he had a thick foreskin which made his prick feel particularly fleshy in her hand. She bent forward.
"That's it," he whispered as her tongue licked at the tiny slit in the head of his prick. She slipped her tongue underneath the thick foreskin and ran it around the surface of the head. He groaned at the sensation and put his right hand onto the back of her head.
"The whole thing," he muttered and pushed her down upon his rod. Her lips tightened as her mouth was slammed into the zipper of his pants, and the lower rim of the steering wheel was pressed tightly against the side of her head. He jerked upwards and his foot hit the gas pedal. As he struggled to regain control of the car, her head was struck by the turning wheel. She moaned and pressed forward, pushed the zipper aside and took as much of the straining cock into her mouth as she could. She was aware of horns blaring and sudden flashes of light as cars passed them, but she was too involved to care about anything except the sensation of the fleshy piece of meat crammed into her mouth. She tried to work her head up and down to stimulate the organ, but the steering wheel kept her head lowered upon the organ. He began rocking back and forth.
"We're making the turn-off," he said suddenly.
She slowly withdrew her head and straightened up in the seat. His prick, wet with her saliva, jerked freely below the steering wheel. "Put it back for me," he said.
Veronica leaned forward and put her hand around the member. She began to massage it, but he pushed her hand away. "I don't want to come yet," he said.
He finished stuffing the prick into his pants as they pulled up the long driveway which led to the Wainwright home. She-remembered that Stevie had been following them and she wondered how much he had seen or guessed from the jerking car or the shadows within the vehicle. She realized that the back and side windows were covered with steam.
The three of them walked into the house through the kitchen. Seeing her crumpled peignoir crumpled up on the table where she had left it after the hot morning session with Tom and Dick, she said, "Oh, I never did dean up after breakfast!"
Harry sniggered but Stevie said nothing.
"Stevie, you check that way," Harry said with a wave towards the living room. "Well check in here."
"Sure," Stevie said and walked away.
Harry and Veronica went into the bedroom.
When Stevie went into the bedroom to tell them the front of the house was in order, his mouth fell open with surprise. Veronica and Harry were both naked. Veronica was lying on her back on the bed, propped up on one elbow, sucking Harry's cock. Harry stood beside the bed, his legs spread apart, and with one hand behind Veronica's head he was moving her head back and forth over his prick.
Veronica saw Stevie and knew that his first impulse was to look away, but then his eyes sought Harry's for reassurance or for a clue as to what he should do.
"Harry?" he said.
"Come on, Stevie," Harry said in a low voice. "It's not every day you get to fuck a broad like this one." He motioned with one hand for Stevie to get undressed.
Veronica watched as the massive man began to strip, her head still being pushed forward and back over Harry's dick. Stevie quickly undid his gun belt and then took off his shirt He wore no undershirt, and she noted with pleasure that he had a broad chest covered in the area between the nipples with soft brown hair. As he undressed, he continued to watch Harry as he slowly moved Veronica over his prick. He flushed when Harry stopped moving her head, but holding it securely began instead to move his own body inland out of her mouth. She moaned with pleasure and reached behind him with her free hand to rub the cheeks of his ass. He was grinning down at her, his hard black eyes and white teeth flashing.
Stevie sat down to remove his boots and socks. When he stood up to remove his pants, he turned away but Veronica began to protest in her throat. Harry said, "The lady wants to watch, Stevie."
Stevie flushed and turned towards them with determination. With one quick movement he unzipped his fly and pushed the pants down. He was wearing boxer shorts and the thick head protruded out from below them. Then he pulled off the shorts and the enormous cock rose up with such a force that it slapped up a load sound. Veronica groaned at the sight and Harry began pumping into her throat with renewed passion. Stevie was as long as the hairy truck driver and as thick as the utility company man.
As Stevie walked towards them, Harry pulled his dick from Veronica's mouth and stepped back. "Christ, you're hung like a fucking bull," he whispered.
Stevie shrugged with embarrassment and put his hand around the throbbing member. His face grimaced as if he was in pain.
"Fuck her, Stevie," Harry said. "Let me watch you fuck her."
Stevie grinned. "You bet," he answered in a hoarse voice. "You bet you're ass I'll fuck her."
Veronica stretched out on the bed to receive the enormous member. Her nipples had already stiffened with anticipation. When Stevie was on his knees in front of her, she gasped at his size. She braced herself because she sensed that he was a man who knew none of the refined pleasures of sex, and she wished there were time enough to teach him the full range of pleasures to be had with a willing woman. Stevie grunted and threw her right leg over his shoulder. He positioned the huge knob for entry into her eager cunt. He took a deep breath and lunged forward just as Harry shouted, "Fuck her good, Stevie!"
Veronica had been right. The huge man, goaded on by his partner, did not know how to savor fully the moment of penetration. With a snort, he slammed the huge tool into her with one stroke. She arched her back and bit her lower Hp with her teeth as their bodies crashed together. The force of his body crashing into hers pushed Veronica forward and to the side. Her head hung over the edge of the bed. She lay without moving, adjusting her body to the presence of the prick. Stevie moaned loudly and began sliding his rock-hard cock out of her tunnel. Suddenly relishing the feel of his tool, she moaned and worked the muscles of her tunnel in a sucking motion to keep him inside her. She gasped as he slammed forward again, the great member plunging recklessly up the rippling walls of her vagina.
From her upside down position as her head hung limply over the edge of the bed, she saw Harry standing close to her. His right hand was wrapped around his prick and his left hand was cupping his balls. As he slowly massaged his prick he was watching Stevie withdraw and plunge his cock into her tunnel. She reached out a hand and caressed Harry's leg.
Seeing her head thrown back and her mouth opened, Harry stepped forward. He stood beside the bed, her head hanging between his spread legs. He was facing away from her towards the grunting and panting Stevie. He leaned forward, braced himself by placing his hands on either side of her body and lowered himself. His balls brushed against her nostrils as he swung back and then shoved his cock into her mouth. In her position, the passage to Veronica's throat was not blocked and he slid quickly down her throat. He remained without moving for a moment and she began to gag as his balls, resting across her nostrils, cut off the air.
Then Harry began to pump into her mouth, withdrawing slowly each time Stevie thrust into her other tunnel and sliding forward each time Stevie withdrew his pulsating prick. When he drew back, Veronica watched the fleshy shaft slide above her eyes then push forward again until Ms balls had passed over her eyes and she was staring up at his puckered pink bud. She moaned with the pleasures of touch and sight.
Then Veronica realized they were directly opposite the vanity with its large mirror. She widened her eyes and thrilled to the sight confronting her. Her own head, upside down, stared up from between the trembling legs of Harry. Above the inverted eyes, she saw the brown sac of his balls as he moved in and out of her mouth. The motion of his ass excited her. Something wet ran down her neck and disappeared into the hair behind her ear. She didn't know or care if it was her own or Harry's sweat or her own saliva dripping from Harry's cock.
Veronica felt a hot mouth suck at her tits. Feeling the softness of hair around the working mouth, Veronica knew that it was Stevie. She trembled with pleasure.
She reached behind and took Harry's balls into her hands. She squeezed them roughly., and he groaned with pleasure. Then she slid her hands further back, watching as the pink bud of his ass-hole swung into her view again. Then she placed a finger against the bud and pushed forward. Harry grunted and began rotating his hips. Then he backed up while she forced her finger not to move. His ass-hole sacked up the finger, and he groaned.
Stevie's tongue had moved even higher along her body, and she knew he must be only inches away from her throat. The tongue slithered along her throat and rose up along her chin. Then it ran around her lips which were stretched around Harry's priming cock. Harry withdrew his prick from Veronica's mouth. He was panting and groaning with intense excitement.
Veronica lifted-her head and strained forward to look at Stevie. His boyish face was bathed in sweat, his shoulders continued to knot up and relax as he thrust in and out of her molten passage in a steady rhythm. He was looking up at Harry's cock which dripped onto her throat.
"Harry," he groaned with a mixture of passion and confusion.
Harry laughed softly and stepped forward, moving his prick closer to Stevie, his balls hanging directly above Veronica's face. She saw Stevie lean forward and take Harry's prick in his hand. Then the mustachioed mouth closed about the fleshy member like a tight, hot pussy. She put her hands up on Harry's hips and clung to them tightly. His body lowered, and his sac of balls which had been beyond her reach now settled up against her hot lips. She took his balls into her mouth and sucked at them. Then she dosed her teeth softly about them.
Harry began to pump into Stevie's mouth and his balls, clamped tightly inside Veronica's hungry mouth, stretched with each backwards thrust. He groaned and cried out as her teeth tore into his flesh, but he did nothing to stop her. Stevie began pumping into her with an increased tempos slamming her more and more off the bed. She clung to Harry's hips and balk desperately.
"Suck it, Stevie. Suck it" Harry's hips began to rock, straining against the weight of Veronica as she was pushed further off the bed.
"I'm coming!" Harry cried out suddenly and jerked forward, burying as much of his cock as possible into Stevie's mouth as he exploded with passion. Veronica let Harry's balls slip out of her mouth. Harry's come was running out of Stevie's mouth onto her chin. She arched her tongue to lap up as much of it as possible.
Then Stevie groaned like an enraged bull and slammed into her with a final forward thrust Her own spasms began at the same-time. Her legs wrapped tightly around Stevie as the two of them jerked and writhed together. Harry stepped aside and collapsed onto the bed. Veronica had a fleeting glimpse of their entangled bodies in the vanity mirror before she and Stevie, glued together in their convulsions, fell into a seething heap upon the floor.
She was still dazed when Harry and Stevie, both still panting like wild animals after a chase, slowly began to sort through the pile of clothes on the floor and get dressed. She watched them, struggling to regain her breath. They did not look at each other, and she realized that they would probably never mention certain aspects of their lust, would probably try to shut out of their minds their homosexual lust for each other. She drew herself up and sat on the edge of the bed.
Stevie had finished dressing and stood sheepishly in front of her, Ms hat in his hand. Behind him Harry was snapping on his gun belt.
"That sure was a great fuck," Stevie said.
Veronica decided she wouldn't let them get away with it "I'm glad I could do something to help you two get together."
Stevie stepped forward as if to hit her. Then he turned and walked out of the room. Harry turned to follow him. At the door he faced her and said, "Piss on you."
"Oh? You like that, too, huh?" Then she threw her head back and rocked with laughter.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Veronica was naked, lying across the bed. She gazed idly out into the darkness beyond the opened French windows, momentarily hypnotized by the lace curtains moving in and out of the room in the slight evening breeze. After Harry and Stevie had left, she had gathered up the peignoirs she had tossed onto the bathroom floor and onto the kitchen table and had pushed them into the clothes hamper. Then she had changed the sheets on the bed and put fresh towels in the bathroom. Now, after a long and relaxing bath, she was lying on top of the bed as if she were waiting. Veronica, what are you doing? Veronica?
She glanced at the clock on the lapis nightstand. It was almost midnight which meant that it was nearly 3:00 am in Boston. It was un-like George not to have telephoned. He had not even told her in which hotel he was staying. She pouted at the clock and turned her gaze again towards the window.
He'll be sorry, the stupid bastard. Just wait. He'll be sorry. When he finds out..."
Veronica sat bolt upright. She shook her head and then fell upon her back again, her hands over her mouth. For a minute she didn't know whether she was about to laugh or to cry.
She was waiting to be raped! All of the tension surrounding the day was suddenly explainable. She was waiting to be raped, waiting for the ultimate sexual thrill, and it had only just occurred to her. Her hands fell to her side and she smiled. She smiled at her own folly, smiled to suddenly realize that no one would rape a willing woman. The rapist would not see fear in her eyes, the fear which he needed to achieve gratification. He would see only lust. He would not be able to rape her. In effect, she would rape him. It would be her ultimate triumph.
Veronica considered the thoughts which invaded her, the thoughts which she had managed to avoid or push from her mind all day long. She experienced suddenly something she had never known before: calm. A wave of calmness like something soft and luminous exploding inside her. She understood.
Her activities had become increasingly reckless. Today she had strutted across a stage before a group which had included some of the richest and the most socially prominent women known to her. Now she was exposing herself to rape. There had been a purpose to her growing recklessness. She had wanted George to find out. She had wanted him to discover her lascivious activities. She had wanted him to find out and then bring her into line. In short, she had wanted George to conquer her!
Veronica digested this new self-knowledge slowly. But didn't George find out? Why didn't he force her to reform, force her to stop being the woman her mother had always said she would become?
Intruding into her calm like a knife thrust into her chest, Veronica half-rose with a sudden pang of fear. Perhaps she had gone too far. If she was frightened now, the rapist might come. She no longer wanted that. She swung her legs off the bed, intending to quickly bolt the French windows.
As she began to stand up the telephone rang. She looked at the phone doubtfully and then glanced towards the opened windows. With a sudden rush of hope that it was George she forgot the windows and picked up the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Ron?"
George, too, was lying naked on the bed of his hotel room. The flashing red neon light had long since stopped flickering, and he lay in the murky half-light coming from the street lamps outside. Yvonne had only just left him, hurrying back to her family after having had another round of loving sex. On her hands and knees on the floor, she had bucked wildly as he had entered her hot tunnel from behind. Now he was exhausted but unable to sleep.
"Oh, George! George, I'm so glad you called. George, I have something to tell you..."
"No, Veronica," he cut her off sharply. "I have something to tell you. It's always you running the show. When I leave on a trip you never say, 'Have a good trip' or, even, 'Good luck.' It's always 'Call me, George.' George do this or George do that. George fuck me. George eat me. Well, Veronica, this time I have something to say to you."
Veronica was stunned. Her chest heaved with the sudden thought that she might have come to her senses too late. George was angry, speaking to her in the flat tone she recognized from only one incident in the past And he was calling her "Veronica."
"George, I've got to confess..." she said quickly.
"Confess?" he laughed. "Do you really think I don't know, Veronica. I am not a stupid man. I've known for sometime now."
She gasped as if she had been hit in the stomach with a knotted fist. She leaned forward. Tears had sprung into her eyes. "You know?" she sobbed.
"Yes, I know." Her tone exasperated him, but he had also begun to feel a slight sensation of alarm.
"But you don't know why, George. You couldn't know why, because I only just found out myself."
"I don't want to hear it, Veronica." Despite his determination to break cleanly with Veronica, George began to feel doubt. He had never heard her emotionally distraught before. Her driving need to control every situation had always prevented her from giving in to anything except the passions of sex.
"George, I've got to say it!"
"You've said it all, Veronica. With your lust."
"No, not lust, George! You. It was you! I wanted you to find out! Don't you understand that? I wanted you to find out so ,..." her voice broke off in a long sob.
George shuddered and pushed himself into a sitting position. Had it, then, really been conscious on her part? She had deliberately wanted to cripple his sense of self-respect?
"... so you would force me to be good again. George, I wanted you to conquer me." Then she began to cry, hysterical and beyond control.
"Veronica! Get yourself under control and listen to me!" George was genuinely alarmed now. Perhaps it was true. Perhaps there was just the slightest chance, and he knew that, however remote that chance might be, he had to take it.
Veronica drew in her breath sharply and struggled to control her sobbing. George had responded. Perhaps there was a chance. She had to rise to the challenge. She could not let herself go to pieces. Not now.
"George," she whispered finally.
"Veronica, listen. I'll catch the next plane out of here. We'll talk about it then. Okay?"
"Oh, yes! Hurry, darling. Thank you."
"See you soon. Are you all right now?"
"Fine," she said and wiped at her eyes. "Good night, George."
"Good night." He hung up the phone. His chest was pounding. More than that, his member had begun to pulsate slightly with the hope surging through the rest of his body. George loved her, had always loved her although he had never understood her before. Perhaps she had solved the puzzle, after all. He had to find out. He called the front desk and made the arrangements for departure quickly. Then, fully erected, he jumped off the bed with a happy shout.
When she hung up the telephone, Veronica continued sitting on the edge of the bed until the sobbing began to subside. Finally quiet and under control, she leaned forward and buried her face in her hands with gratitude and love. Then her head jerked up and she looked aghast towards the French windows. She had heard a noise. The curtains moved into the room and then rushed out into the night again. She listened intently. Again she heard a sound as of someone was stepping on branches.
She stood up and stepped forward to run towards the opened French windows to bolt them shut. Her heart began to pound. The figure of a man appeared on the sill. A tall threatening figure with a nylon stocking pulled over his head.
Veronica reached behind and wrapped her sweating hand around the base of the marble lamp, which stood on the nightstand. She jerked the lamp free of the socket and, stepping forward, she threw it with all her force towards the intruder. Then, with her head thrown back and her fists clenched tightly at her sides, Veronica screamed with outrage.
Moving through the early morning traffic, George had a growing sense of danger. His fears were confirmed when, pulling up their driveway, he saw an ambulance and police cruisers parked in front of their house. He jumped from the car and ran towards the house. "Veronica! Veronica!"
As he approached the house, some attendants were carrying a stretcher through the front door. On the stretcher was a body wrapped in a white sheet. George stood still, shocked and alarmed. He stared at the covered body and moaned, "Veronica?"
"George!"
He looked up and saw Veronica standing in the doorway. She was wrapped in a heavy, quilted robe, and her face was pale. She broke away from the policemen who were questioning her and ran, laughing and sobbing, down the steps into his arms.
"Veronica, I love you," he murmured.
"I love you, George. I'll never doubt that or myself again."
They pushed past the policemen into the house.
"What happened?" George asked the lieutenant who appeared to be in charge.
"Your wife killed the rapist, Mr. Wainwright. I assume you are Mr. Wainwright?"
"Yes. Very much so."
The telephone rang and Veronica turned away to pick it up. "Hello?"
"Veronica? Veronica, this is Monica Lewis. I couldn't sleep all night and just had to call you to tell you... well, to tell you that I was at Tony's yesterday afternoon, and I think what you did was simply splendid. Don't worry about a thing."
Veronica flushed. Monica was the grande dame of society. If anyone could cover a scandal by simply denying that it had ever happened, Monica was just the one to do it. "Thank you, Monica," she whispered. "I had begun to regret it. I'm very grateful."
"Nonsense. It is I who am grateful. Let's have lunch next week."
"Fine," Veronica said. "Fine. I'll call you."
"Excellent. Good-bye, dear."
"Good-bye."
Veronica hung up and turned to George. He was looking at her and smiling.
"Officer," he said, turning towards the lieutenant. "Can you finish questioning my wife later? I think she needs some rest."
"Sure. I understand." The police began to move away from the house.
As George and Veronica were walking towards the bedroom, John came into the living room.
"John," George said. "See that Mrs. Wainwright and I are not disturbed."
