The illness that overcame Nancy Ledbetter is a common one. Since I'm not a psychiatrist, I won't attempt to explain all of the ins and outs of such a disease. What is important is to realize that Nancy was as ill when she was in her "normal" mood as when she was a blatant sex pot.
The finicky housekeeper, the bookkeeper who becomes a fanatic over each detail, are apt to be suffering the same disabling disease that Nancy did. Perhaps they'll never let down the bars and behave as Nancy did, but they will never be happy people, and they'll never be able to relax.
We have given a lot of detail to that other part of Nancy's life because it holds up a mirror to what the other part is straining over. Certainly her sex life was intense, but so was her other life strained.
Only by seeing both poles of behavior can one hope to find that happy place in the middle which we call normalcy.
Freud described the polarized personality in psychological terms. Gestalt, one of today's foremost psychologists, would say that what Nancy needed was centering, a moving away from either extreme. Although psychology is a young science (many still do not consider it a science at all), this idea of centering certainly is not. Six hundred years before Christ, Socrates was teaching it, and some of the Eastern philosophies discuss the idea even further back.
As this idea is old, so is the method. To instruct with any hope of teaching deeply, one must involve the student and reader until he is able to, even vicariously, understand.
Now, however, science has given us a chemical explanation for behavior. They have given us pills to be happy with, pills to be calm, and pills that take a grouchy person and turn them into patience personified.
With all of Nancy's struggle, she couldn't change herself one iota. It took a pill. Perhaps that's the only lesson to learn. After three thousand years of struggling, perhaps man will discover that he wasn't meant to struggle at all. He was simply meant to observe.
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CHAPTER ONE
My unusual sex urges began fifteen years ago when I was thirty. I had no idea that they were symptoms of something seriously wrong. At the time, it all seemed as natural and pleasant as eating apple pie.
My son, Tod, had come home from catching tadpoles. He was covered from head to toe with mud. I thought he looked funny, but I didn't laugh. Sternly I ordered him to take a bath.
Tod was eight at the time. Although his chin began to quiver, I didn't let him know how I felt. I'd had a tendency to be too strict with my children, at least that's what John, my husband, said. He thought I was too severe about a lot of things, but on the day Tod came home covered with mud, my old attitudes and even my view of morality changed. It was like a great weight lifted from my shoulders...." and scrub your elbows while you're at it," I harangued my son as I turned off the bath water. "You knew better than to wade in there in your school clothes. I may never get these stains out."
"David and Jimmy went in first."
"What's that got to do with it? Good Lord! You'd think those two made your rules. Here. You're not scrubbing. Let me do it."
I took the washcloth from him and ran a bar of soap briskly over it. Then I began rubbing his gungy elbows.
"Terrible," I said, though I wasn't even feeling angry any more.
His little body was so tense, sitting there. I wished I could be gentle. What was wrong with me that I was so continually mean with the kids? I didn't intend it that way.
I forced myself to relax, working the smudges out with a gender hand. As I looked down at his vulnerably thin body, I was overcome with my own meanness. Soon I was crying, my tears flooding out and spilling all over Tod. My poor little darling stared up at me, and his face filled with fear.
"What's the matter?" he asked. "What'd I do?"
"Nothing," I sobbed. "Mama! I'm sorry!"
He was sure he'd done something wrong, and this only made me feel worse. Bending over, I raised his little face up and began kissing him.
"I don't mean to be cruel," I stammered. "I know little boys like to play in the mud. There was no excuse for me yelling at you the way I did. I'm the one who's sorry. Can you forgive me, Tod?"
He tensed even more. I could feel him trying to pull away from me. I needed his forgiveness, but he acted like he was afraid.
I released him ... sat back on the edge of the tub and tried to smile in an effort to draw him to me. Shifting nervously, he fiddled with the washcloth I'd dropped, but he wouldn't look up at me.
How precious he was, I thought. His tousled blond hair was flopped down over his eyes. They were blue eyes, wide and clear and beautiful! His face was covered with freckles-his sister Rosemary called them polka dots-and he had a quivery, little-boy chin that made my heart burst with pride.
I hadn't seen my children to really look at them for some time. As I sat there staring at him, a light-headed feeling came over me that was simply bursting with love. Reaching for the soap, I worked up a lather in my hands. Then I began kneading the creamy suds into his pliant flesh.
He's mine, a part of my own flesh, I thought.
I worked over his shoulders until the tension began to lessen. I could see his head bob forward when he finally began to relax.
"Feel good?" I asked.
He nodded yes.
Once I started, I had no Urge to quit. Inch by inch I soothed the soap into his flesh and then rinsed his skin clean. As his tightness dissolved, my own tensions began to disappear. There were taut nerves deep within me that had been tugging and pulling at me almost since I was born. "Sweet baby," I whispered. I worked down his chest and onto his belly. I was pleased when he leaned back and arched his stomach up to me. It was so soft and pliant, that vulnerable little underbelly. I felt his small pecker slap against my hand as I worked, but it took a while before I realized that it was quite hard!
What's this? I thought. I looked down and saw the sensual possibilities in his tiny fruit for the first time. Curiously, the thought didn't trouble me in the least. After his earlier rejection, I felt a thrill that I was able to please. Reaching down, I curled my finger around his tiny hard-on and gave it a gentle stroke.
"How's that feel?" I asked. . He'd sucked in a lung full of air the instant I touched him. Lifting his ass up, he pushed himself hard against me.
"Do it some more," he begged.
With two fingers I fucked him for a minute or two. It gave me a tremendous surge of excitement, especially because of the way it was affecting him. Anxiously he brought up his legs and squeezed them together, trapping my wrist. Then he immediately begin fucking back.
Suddenly I had to play with him ... all of him. Reaching down into the water, I picked him up, grabbed a towel, and carried him on into my bedroom, stopping only to lock the door. The water ran off of him in rivers, all the way to my bed.
He began to whimper, immediately assuming that he'd done something terribly wrong.
"I'm sorry, Mama," he whimpered. "Please! Don't hurt me. I didn't mean to."
"Hush," I whispered warmly. "Don't be sorry. Mama just wants to love you some more."
I reached down and fingered his sweet little prod, and I could feel him relax in my arms. Still, I knew I would have to be careful not to frighten him, as easily as he seemed to be alarmed.
"We're going to love each other," I said. "I'm going to play with your darling dickie, and you can play with me, too, if you like."
I laid him down on the bed. Then I undressed as rapidly as I could. Shrewdly I calculated on how much my body would affect him. Then, climbing onto the bed beside him, I took his hand and ran it over my boobs.
"You used to suck me here when you were a baby," I told him. "I always loved it when you sucked me. Do you think you'd like to pretend you're a baby now?"
Mutely he nodded, still too overcome to talk. To encourage him I reached down and stroked his sweet goober again.
He took a deep breath, then reached for my tit. A moment later, his mouth nuzzled against my nipple and then hungrily sucked it in, his hands kneading my lobes compulsively.
"You're going to have a big fucker when you're older," I whispered. (I'd never used such a word out loud before!) "You know, you're like your daddy in a lot of ways. He likes it when I play with him, too."
"You play with Daddy ... like this?" Tod asked incredulously. His eyes were widely rounded. "Certainly. That's why we both sleep in the same bed, so we can play with each other."
"Can I sleep with you?"
"No. Daddy wouldn't share me with anyone. We'll have to keep this secret. Won't that be fun?"
"Do you rub Daddy's pecker?"
"Mmmm hmmm," I purred, "and I kiss it and let him poke it up my pussy and all sorts of wonderful things."
He lay there very still, staring up at me, and I continued to play with his sweet little dick while he mulled all of it over in his mind. One finger rubbed absently against my nipple, using the same gentle stroke that he used to use on his blanket when he lay down to suck on his thumb.
"We'll have us a game, you and me," I proposed. "Every day, when you come home from school, we'll play with each other until it's time for sister to come home. We'll keep it a secret and we'll never tell anyone. Okay?"
Mutely he nodded his head.
"What a darling cock," I said.
At that moment my radio turned itself on by accident. I reached over to snap it off and noticed my chapstick, laying on the edge of the nightstand. I picked it up and held it beside his shivering cock.
"Look. It's the same size ... exactly."
Popping off the cap, I ran the stick around my lips several times and then resealed it and tossed it away. My lips were all warm and greasy when I smiled down at my son.
"Can I kiss your pee pee, sweetheart?" I asked. "Can Mama show you how good it feels?"
He squirmed nervously, but he wouldn't look at me. Finally he nodded his head yes.
I took my hands away from his hard, shivery prick then and let my eyes feast over his treasure. I was almost afraid to fondle his nuts, as delicate and fragile as the sac looked.
"You have the softest little balls," I mused. "I could eat them up, too. Do you want me to kiss your sweet balls when I kiss your dick?"
He groaned. I didn't wait for an answer for Tod was arching up his toys, eagerly awaiting my promised kiss. Though I loved staring at his precious prod, I paused only an instant longer before I leaned down and took his dear little dick in my mouth.
"AHHHHHHHH!" he gasped. And I purred! The feel of his throbbing cock in my mouth was heaven. Like a hot, wet cave I surrounded him, caressing warmly, fondling wetly. His delicate, hairless flesh set me on fire. I took first his shivering cock, but soon I was pushing in his balls, as well. Greedily I tasted of the most sensuous of all flesh.
I couldn't get enough of him! My finger was drawn to his asshole where I was tempted to further explore, but I didn't let myself push through. I couldn't take the chance of hurting him for that would have frightened him away. I had to content myself with ringing his tight little bun with my fingertips, massaging and fondling his little ass until it was relaxed and loose.
I wanted to poke into every part of him, revel in the feel and taste and smell of my darling boy that I'd never really known. Always there'd been a barrier between my children and me just as there'd been between me and my husband. I'd nag and scold when I didn't really care that they were all that perfect. What I really needed was love. Once I broke through that barrier, everything I did seemed wonderful and right.
Tod began fucking his sweet pecker in and out of my mouth. Having him shove it into me the same way that a man would was a delight.
"Ngh!Ngh!" he grunted.
I squeezed my legs together in the same anxious rhythm for my throbbing pussy had begun to ache.
I didn't touch myself with my hand because I wanted the feeling to last. When Tod began shaking, I forced myself to back away.
"Are you all right, lamb?"
He wasn't accustomed to a mother with a gentle voice. Shyly he looked up and nodded.
"Do you like Mama loving you?"
Again he nodded his head. I moved up to lay beside him again, cuddling him in my arms. He nuzzled in against me and one hand began stroking my tit. When I felt him pulling my breast closer to his mouth, I looked down and realized that he was almost sneaking it, so unsure was he of my response.
I helped him. I took hold of my tit and fed the nipple into his mouth. Then I hugged him to me warmly and let him suck.
I'd started out too anxious, I decided. I shouldn't have sucked on his pecker for some time. I'd have to be more careful in the future if I didn't want to scare him away.
I plotted carefully. It wasn't that I didn't know I was doing wrong. I knew I'd have to keep John from finding out, and I'd have to be sure that Tod didn't talk to anyone else about it, either. What was missing was any feeling of guilt. Like some mischievous child, I planned and schemed how to accomplish my ends without getting caught, even to the best methods for coaxing Tod into becoming a regular part of my game. I wasn't thinking about the moment. Already I was planning for tomorrow and the next day, too. Once I'd broken through my shell of nagging and irritation, I had to completely immerse myself in my child.
My ache was becoming critical. Rolling over on my back, I pulled Tod on top of me. Then I squirmed around until I felt his feverish little dick brush over my swollen cuntlips.
"Ahhhh!" I gasped. Then I spread open my legs and the next time his rooting cock came near, I trapped it in my smoldering cunt.
Now it was his turn to gasp. "HAAAAAAAA!"
"You sweet little fucker," I panted. "Ohhh, but that feels good!"
"Nnnnnngh," he whined.
He was twisting this way and that, squirming and burrowing to push that hungry pole of his in deeper. When he accidentally poled it into my hole, his entire body shuddered with excitement. Almost instantly he began to thrust his prod into me with hard, deliberate strokes. For a little fucker, he certainly got with the program easily. If it hadn't felt so wondrously good, I'd have laughed at the easy way he'd graduated and become a dirty old man.
How differently I saw that phrase once I lost my inhibitions. I'd once thought that even my husband was a hopelessly repeating sinner, a vile, dirty (even when youngish) man. When I'd thought of the phrase to describe Tod, I held a picture of a cuddly, teddybear kind of a man who'd know all sorts of exciting games to play.
"Hey! That's a baby-making dance," I panted as I began to meet his small-cocked thrusts.
"Ohhhh. Harder, Mama! Don't stop!"
"Easy, darling," I cautioned. "Don't rush it. Try to make it last."
He didn't care about it lasting. All he could think of was to fuck. It was an automatic, compulsive kind of movement that varied only when he tried to screw it into my pussy tighter by rotating his hips from side to side. For an eight-year-old, he was amazingly adept.
"Harder, Mama!" he whimpered.
In my mind there were many things going on, all of them sensual. I could picture Tod and I taking baths together. As small as he was it would be easy for the two of us to ball each other in the tub. I could see us in the shower, too, with my small son staring into my pussy until he finally had to push his face into it. Wouldn't it be heaven when he wanted to suck on it for me? I knew I was going to love that. My pussy ached just to think of it.
I would make a great lover out of my son, I decided. I'd teach him everything that could please a woman, and when he'd learned all of that, I'd turn my ass over and let him learn how to please a man. I'd never been fucked in the ass before ... never wanted it, but now all sorts of lewd ideas were creeping into my head.
I thought of holding his sweet penis for him when he had to piss. Soon my thoughts drifted deeper until he was spraying warm piss over my body. The idea of it burning into my cunt was deliciously stimulating.
I could play with such notions, but I dared not propose them to my tender-hearted son. I'd have to seduce him day by day until he could respond eagerly to everything.
"Keep fucking," I whispered. "Keep screwing that sweet thing in."
It never occurred to me that Tod might not be able to reach an orgasm, etc. When my own crest came gushing over me, I screamed ... I stiffened ... then I fucked and fucked and fucked.
Then it was done, yet I could feel the tense little frame of my darling son, still fucking his way up the hill.
"Cummmmm," I rasped. "Fuck off!"
"Kiss me some more," he pleaded. "Kiss my pee pee again."
I rolled Tod off of me and onto his back. Then I pressed my face to his groin. For a moment I savored the humid warmth and titillating smell. Then I realized that he was frantically fucking his pecker into thin air. I began nibbling at his root.
Can't he cum? I wondered nervously. Why hasn't he made it? Could he be too young?
Gumming my way up on his stalk, I ticked and nibbled around the edge of his head, teased a tear from his cock's eye and then sucked him in.
"AHHHHHHHH!" he wailed.
The instant I sucked his prick in, Tod began to thrust with hard, shuddering jabs. Filling both fists with my hair, he jerked my head toward him, doubling the power of his thrusts.
I reached down and stuffed his nuts in, too. That's when he began to shake. His arms and legs responded independent of either his body or his brain. I was on the verge of panic when he arced backwards, stiffened, and then he shot off his very first load. Every muscle in his body seemed to convulse.
"EYIIIIIIII!"
There wasn't much cum, but the spastically shuddering body told me that Tod thought it was great. When it was over, and we'd each regained our breath, my small son confided that it was the first time he'd ever reached a crest. He was, as a matter-of-fact, unaware that such a sensation could exist.
"You're kidding," I teased. "Don't you ever play with yourself? All little boys play with themselves once in a while."
"I don't like it," he said. "You can't stop it once it gets started. Always before it just went on and on."
Before his first crest, Tod Ledbetter hadn't said ten words to me all day. After he made it, he rattled on until I couldn't shut him up.
"Tod, you mustn't tell anybody about us," I said.
He looked at me like I was some kind of a nut. "Of course not," he said. "Guy!"
CHAPTER TWO
After that Tod and I balled each other nearly every day. He got out of school at one and his sister Rosemary didn't get out until a quarter past three. From ten after one until three-thirty, the only person Tod played with was me.
I thought of little else. I knew my life was changing, but it seemed unimportant to me, at the time. When Tod and I weren't playing with each other, I often played with myself. This meant that I didn't spend a lot of time on my house.
I'd always prided myself on a neat home so this was one of the symptoms that my husband John noticed first. Another change that struck him even more forcibly was my changed behavior in bed.
For years I'd pleaded a headache whenever possible. Poor John had given up hoping that I'd ever be a lusty bed partner. When I began chasing after him, at night, he at first considered the change a delightful improvement. For several nights he reveled in my new-found lust. He became more patient and considerate even during the day so that a marriage that had been close to going on the rocks seemed definitely on the mend.
After the first couple of weeks, John discovered that he couldn't perform. Although he was only twenty-nine years old at the time, I was draining him, making demands on him continually until he simply couldn't get it up.
The first time this happened, we'd made love in the shower. Then I went after him again in bed. Although he was willing, his poor, bald-headed friend was too droopy to comply. I teased and tickled; I even sucked on it for a while, but there was no bone left in it to stiffen. Miserably I had to give up.
I never realized how much this episode frightened John, and with the fear implanted in his mind, it wasn't long before he was unable to function even the first time around.
Ironically, John thought it was him that was sick. He went to see a doctor about it, and the doctor prescribed male hormone shots. My frantic husband and his foolish doctor never questioned the sudden change in my behavior. To John, I'd just finally come around to acting like a normal wife should.
After a few more weeks had passed, my husband began noticing how smudged and dusty my house was. I was still able to get the dishes done and the beds made, but I'd quit wiping down my cabinets or dusting. Often I went a week without touching the floors ... or a month without washing windows.
Gradually it got worse, of course, but I didn't notice. I was so happy and involved in my new-found sensualism that I almost made it into a god. Because of it, I reasoned, I'd made my husband deliriously happy, granting him his fondest dream. Hadn't he always wanted a sensuous wife?
Because of it, I'd quit harping and berating my kids. Tod was, by this time, almost as sex oriented as I. With him, however, it was a couple of hours out of a busy day. With me it became my one ultimate concern.
Even the fact that I was letting my housework slide seemed like a plus at the time. John had accused me repeatedly of being too finicky for my own good.
I hadn't tried to fondle Rosemary. For one thing, she was a girl, and I had never given any thought to the pleasures one woman could give to another. Another reason was that Tod and I guarded what we had so jealously that I was afraid of anyone else knowing about it ... afraid they might spoil it for us. I couldn't take the chance that Rosemary might not go along with it. Then one day she came home early, and I had to seduce her or lose it all.
She walked in just after Tod blew his cum. It was the sound of his cry that brought her bursting into my room.
"What's the ... OHHHHH!"
When she saw the two of us laying there she was too paralyzed with shock to move.
"Rosy!" I cried when I saw her. "Baby! Come here. Let Mama explain!"
She didn't come. I'm sure she would have run if she could have, but she was frozen to the spot. I rolled Tod off of me and hurried to her. She cringed as I reached for her. She shuddered at my touch.
"Come here, baby," I-begged. "NO!" It was a scream.
The plea and the refusal were academic since I already had hold of her arm, but she pulled back as I dragged her toward the bed.
"I'm teaching Tod how babies are born," I lied.
She kept shaking her head, her nose wrinkled with disgust and her heels digging in all the way to the bed.
"Tell her, Tod," I said. "Tell her it's fun."
"I'm going to tell Daddy," she said. "Why? He likes to do it, too." 'Wot Daddy!" she cried.
Tod smirked proudly. For once he knew something that she didn't. "Sure he does," he said. "Don't you know how a man gets a woman pregnant? Everybody does it or there wouldn't be no babies born."
"I don't believe you," she hissed.
She looked terribly small and vulnerable standing there, but her chin didn't quiver at all. Defiantly she thrust it forward, daring us to prove she was wrong.
"You're dumb," Tod announced.
"Let me show you, honey," I pleaded. "Once you know how wonderful it feels, you won't feel upset any more."
"Don't touch me!"
"Let her go," Tod snapped. "We don't want her anyway.
"Tod!" I scolded. "That's not right. Here now, darling. I'm going to slip your dress off, and you can lay here between Tod and me."
"No!"
She could only protest verbally for she was still enough afraid of my discipline that she couldn't completely defy me. I undressed her and then forced her back onto the bed, her little body stiffly resisting all the way.
"All we were doing was showing each other our love," I said. "That's what Daddy and I do, and that's what we want to do now for you. We love you, Rosy. You're a part of us, and you have such a sweet, loveable little body.
How shrewdly devious my mind worked as I calmed her fears. My arguments were so reasonable; how could I-or anyone-think they came from a sick mind.
I grazed my hands over her chest and shoulders, trying to calm her without raising any further alarm. I knew it would be a long time before I could begin fondling her puffy, hairless nest. I was surprised as I looked down at her pussy to realize that it would take effort to keep my hands away. It was a precious pussy, all pooched out and ripely virginal. When I noticed that Tod was staring at it, too, I scowled and shook my head, warning him to stay away.
"Don't I get to fuck ...?"
"Tod! Shut up!" I said.
He grimaced. "You going to do it to her?" he asked.
"Just keep your mouth shut, lover," I warned. "It's going to take time."
"I don't want either of you," Rosemary whimpered.
"No one wants what they don't understand," I answered. "Remember how you used to hate stuffed peppers until you finally tried them? Now it's one of your favorite foods."
In spite of her protests, I could feel her body begin to relax. I suggested to Tod that he tell her how he felt and what happened at the end.
He shrugged despairingly for he had no patience when it came to his sister.
"You just keep getting hotter and hotter until you explode," he said. "It feels keen, the way Mama does it to you, though."
"He means that the seed to make babies spurts out through his sweet cock and it fills up that hole between your legs. It feels all exciting and creamy.
You'll love the...."
"I don't want to hear about it," she snapped.
She was tensed up again. I ran my fingers through her hair and motioned for Tod not to say any more. For perhaps fifteen minutes I continued to stroke her hair and forehead, her shoulders and arms. It was a long time before she relaxed the second time. Tod got so bored that he finally got up and dressed.
"Can I go?"
I shook my head, no.
He rolled his eyeballs back into their sockets until only the whites showed. I wondered at the speed with which he'd forgotten who was the boss. He wouldn't have dared to make a face like that at me a month before.
I let him sulk. I certainly couldn't explain the importance of reestablishing Rosemary's trust. Unless I could coax her into playing the game with us, she'd take the story to her father, for sure!
Slowly ... so slowly, I worked my way down until I was grazing my fingertips over her belly. Then I went down one leg, back up, and down the other one, keeping myself several inches away from her cute little pussy.
It was curious that I'd never noticed how adorable her poochy little twat was before. Like a pug nose, it stuck out from her body impishly, its tightly closed lips smiling with promise up at me.
I was perched over her, leaning on my up-turned hand, and I soon became mesmerized by that sweet cunt that I dared not touch. How long would I have to wait? I wondered. Would I know when the time was right?
Her skin was covered with gooseflesh, and she lay very still so that I knew she was enjoying my caress. Would she continue to enjoy it as I edged closer to her precious twat?
Again I worked over her belly, then down one leg and up the other, and through the entire sequence my fingers had edged inward no more than half an inch.
Again I repeated the sensuous ritual, and again I gained a scant harf inch of ground. My stroking was now up to three-quarters of an inch from the edge of her cunt at either side, and I was actually passing over the swollen portion of her pussy at the top until I was within half an inch of her vee. In a few years that spongy swelling would bristle with wiry hair. At that moment, however, it was satiny soft.
I continued to narrow the gap, but it was a far slower process by that time, for I moved in no more than a quarter of an inch each time around. I watched her carefully, waiting for some sign that she wanted me to go on. When I reached the very edge of her leg and the last quarter inch above her crease, I went around and around, daring not to move in any more. I finally realized that she'd given me the sign. She hadn't drawn away; she was even holding her breath. If I expected her to push up her pussy or groan, I'd expected far too much.
I let my fingertip graze lightly up the crease between her leg and her pussy lip. Though I'd barely touched her genital flesh, little Rosy let out a gasp!
I was terribly excited by that one, small response, but I continued on through the sequence, moving up onto her belly and on down to the other side. Rosy didn't jump away or stiffen as I brushed over the outside of her pussylips on the next pass.
Again she gasped. I knew then that the child was mine!
After that I had to warn myself repeatedly not to rush her. I'd made a solid gain, but any abrupt change could still spoil it. Tod popped his head back into the room, and I smiled, but warned him to keep his silence just the same. He stood there, watching my fingers graze up her twat for a while. Then he grinned back at me before he slipped away.
It took me considerable time before my fingers moved to the center line where I could outline her tight little vee. By that time her cunt had begun to get juicy until I could see the dew forming in her snugly furled crease. I longed to probe her humid depths, but I didn't dare. I had to content myself with fondling her outer lips and titillating my excitement with dreams.
I could see myself kissing her pussy, of course. This was the first hunger that hit me, but it wasn't, by all means, the last. I could also see myself holding her on top of me, anxiously rubbing our open pussies together until my spasming cunt could feel her throbbing pulse. There was a dream that was wild!
Next I thought of Tod. As I looked down at Rosemary's" virgin flesh, I could see Tod's small prick slipping through her folds to tickle her fancy, and it would be me that guided his small, shivering pole into her devouring hole.
I closed my eyes and imagined him rooting around in her rut, then discovering her tunnel.
With a shudder of excitement he would start fucking ... fucking ... FUCKING, with me there to guide and encourage them. I would draw the deepest lust that either of them could give.
My dreams faded when I felt Rosemary begin to push slightly against my caressing hand. I was, by this time, tickling lightly up and down her steaming crease, and when she pushed herself against me, my finger slipped easily through. The moment I began sliding down the inside of her rut, my daughter's body came vibrantly awake.
"Ohhhhhhhh!" she whispered.
"Feel good, love?" I asked
"Mmmmmhmmmm," she purred.
"You have a sweet little body," I said. "I'm going to fill it up with love."
She began pushing into me with a gentle rhythm. I let her do the thrusting for some time.
"This is how a man loves a woman," I said.
"Does Daddy do this to you?"
"Yes, but he doesn't use his hand," I said.
"Why not?"
I wanted to tell her that what he liked using best was his mouth, but I knew instinctively that that game would have to wait.
"Because Daddy's big old pecker feels a lot better than his hand. It's all hot and silky and moist ... perfect for the job. His hand gets rough sometimes, but never his dong."
"Is that what Tod was doing to you?"
"That's right. He's learned to make me feel good, too."
"Could he do it to me, you think?"
"Certainly, lamb. He'd love to make you feel good like me."
"I'll bet!" she said with a sisterly snort. "If he knew he was making me happy, he'd be bound to quit."
"Not with this kind of a game. When Tod makes you feel good, he's making himself feel great at the same time, and once you get a man excited, It's almost impossible for them to quit."
"I don't know," she said. "It feels awfully good the way it is."
I called Tod then. I continued stroking her until he showed up. Then I asked him to climb on top of her, easy like, and show her how good his dick could feel. Almost before I got the words out, he began skimming off his pants. Already his pecker was beginning to swell. By the time he'd climbed onto the bed, he was nearly full blown.
"Open your legs," he ordered.
She immediately answered, "No."
"You straddle her," I suggested. "I think it would be easier that way at first.
Again the eyeballs rolled. I'd have to get after him about that later, I thought.
He elbowed his way to her, and I reached down between his widely spread legs to run my hand up his crease until I found his magic satin purse and the hard, velvet prod. My other hand still fucked lightly in and out of her pussylips. They seemed almost to be sucking me in. Once Tod began to lower his cock, I pulled out my finger and pressed her two lips open. Then I fed my son's hot little dick into my daughter's steaming rut.
"AHHHHHHHH! "she gasped.
"OHHHHHHHHHH!" my son exclaimed.
"There now. Doesn't that feel good?"
"Am I inside?" Tod asked.
"No, lamb. You're just rooting around in her pussy."
"But she's so tight. Guy! I feel like she's strangling my dick!"
"I can't help it!" she wailed. "Please don't stop."
"He's not going to stop, darling. He loves it tight, don't you, Tod?"
"Yes! Oh, yesssss!" he said with a sigh. "She's squeezing my dick so tight!"
"Mmmmmmmm," purred Rosemary.
"You like the feel of his cock?" I asked. "Isn't it silky and smooth?"
She nodded. "And hot, like it's got a fever. That's the best part."
I could see her body relax until even her eyelids began to droop. Everything but her thrusting pussy went limp. In that one, feverish spot, all of her energies were focused. This caused her thighs to lift as she worked up and down against him. Soon she was lifting both of them off the bed with every stroke.
"Nnnngh!" she grunted each time she rammed herself up against him.
Just watching them fuck each other was enough to make my own erotic impulses soar. When I could see her getting close, I found that I was almost as tense with passion as she. Then her excitement reached its zenith, and her entire body arced up into a bow until she was supporting both of them on nothing but her shoulders and heels!
"EYIIIIIIII!" she wailed.
Her body twisted and jerked spastically, and she shook her head from side to side. It was like an electric shot jolting through her. And Tod, who'd finally found her hole, was riding hard, jabbing his way up to a wild crest of his own. "OHHHHHHHH!"
Watching the two of them make it was all I needed. My heart and my cunt exploded at the same time. It was almost like I'd swelled to the bursting point with pride.
There would be many wonderfully warm afternoons for Rosemary, Tod and me. I'd get my chance to make love to her just as I'd made love to Tod, for once Rosemary experienced her first orgasm, she was not about to tell her father. She'd enjoyed it as much as either Tod or me.
CHAPTER THREE
He said he came home early because he was concerned about me, but when he burst in on us and started screaming obscenities, I was sure he'd come home only to spy.
He acted like a mad man. Pulling the children away from me and half throwing them toward the door, he cleared everything away between us before he came after me.
"Crazy woman!" he screamed. "Rotten bitch! My God, how could you be such a slut?"
"Why call me names?" I asked, my mind having numbed to a completely dead calm. "Can I help it if you're impotent? You've nobody to blame but yourself."
How quickly the answers came to me ... answers that cut deep and painfully ... answers that were more than John could stand. With a deep, throaty cry, he reached out and slapped me hard across the face, then covered his eyes with his hands.
"My God! I'm going mad, too!"
He raced from the room, and I, as cool as could be, got up and slipped into a lounging robe. I was actually planning how to seduce him out of his fury as I headed down the hall to look for him. I found him talking on the phone.
"Yes, Mary. Right now. I've already phoned them so you'll have to leave right away if you're going to get here in time. Thanks." Mary was my sister. What the hell did he want with her?
He hung up.
"Time for what?" I asked.
He whirled around to face me, and I could see that he hadn't calmed down a bit.
"Get back up in that bed," he ordered.
"Why? You going to come play with me?"
I smiled at him sweetly, and when that didn't work, I sneered, but I couldn't get to him this time. He just stood there, looking at me and shaking his head.
"You're sick, Nancy. I've called for help."
That wiped the smirk away!
"Sick? What do you mean? There's nothing wrong with me that a potent husband couldn't fix."
He just kept shaking his head. "Your sister's coming to watch the kids. '
"What kind of help?" I repeated the words coldly, knowing instinctively that John had become the enemy. There was no hope of winning him over again.
With one hand he indicated the cluttered rooms.
"This isn't you," he said. "That ... up in the bedroom. That wasn't you, either. I should have gotten help for you months ago."
My eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What kind of help, John?" I demanded.
The way he kept shaking his head made me furious. It was as though he'd lost all hope.
"You sister's coming over to watch the kids."
"What kind of help?" I repeated the words coldly.
He faced me then, taking both my shoulders in his hands.
"You're sick ... mentally sick, Nancy. I'm putting you in the hospital for a couple of days so they can run some tests."
My brain was warped, perhaps, but I could still think clearly. Calculating shrewdly I pierced through his bland words.
"You're going to put me into an insane asylum, aren't you?" I demanded.
"I hope that won't be necessary, but if it is, you'll have to go. You can't continue doing what you've just done to your children. My God!"
It was as though he'd just realized what Tod and Rosemary and I had been up to. The enormity of it hit him hard. With a shudder he turned away. It was the last time that day that he looked me straight in the eye.
A sick mind desperately tries to perpetuate itself. When I realized that there was little chance of my escaping, I began immediately to plan how to get around the medical judges that would be ruling whether or not I needed to be locked away.
"What if they decide I'm sane?" I asked.
John's fingers dug into my shoulder, but he wouldn't look at me. 'Then you'd be a criminal, I guess," he said. "Abusing a child sexually is considered a major crime."
"Abusing?" I asked. Then I laughed. "You'd better check with them first. They'll tell you they loved it. We've been having sex together every afternoon for months! I'll tell you, John. Your kids are a lot better lovers than you are."
"My God!" he muttered. He turned loose of me and walked away.
For a few minutes I was afraid that he was going to heave. His breathing was ragged and forced, and his mouth and belly were working furiously to put the upset down. Then the bell chimed, he raced to answer it. I heard him mutter, "Thank God!"
They weren't wearing white jackets, but they were the men. There were two of them, and they were big enough to put down a fair-sized army.
"Mary ... where is she? I wish she'd hurry up," he muttered.
"Who's Mary? Is that who you called us for?"
John shook his head, and without looking at me, he pointed in my direction.
"Mary's coming to babysit. I thought I should follow you to sign in my wife ... or ... whatever."
The two men looked at me. It was my last chance to do something on my own. I could feel the world sucking me in. With a smile I untied the sash on my robe and opened it up. Before John could stop me, I shrugged off the robe entirely and stood there in the nude.
"My husband's impotent," I said. "Would either of you care to fuck?"
I was in the psychological diagnostic clinic at county hospital for four days. At first I put on an act of bravado, but after a day or two of jokingly propositioning every man in sight, I realized that I wasn't doing myself any good. I became frightened then and behaved with absolute logic right up until the hearing when they convicted me.
"How could you?" I cried. "Sure. I put on an act for a while, but I haven't done an illogical thing or given an illogical answer in the last couple of days."
The head psychiatrist nodded. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Ledbetter. I have no alternative but to commit."
They brought John in then and he asked that my sentence to a state hospital be set aside as he'd found a private sanitorium that he thought would be better for me.
"Are you going to let them lock me away?" I asked.
"It's out of my hands," he said. "Bastard!"
John blanched, but then he forced himself to smile. "Get well soon, Nancy. We'll be waiting for you."
He didn't mean it. I could see by the quick way he turned his back on me and hurried out of the room. Within a few hours I was on my way to the Hillside Sanitorium, a maximum security, privately operated mental hospital.
I was terribly frightened, but I wouldn't let them see. Then I was wheeled past a room where two patients were going at it, hot and heavy on the floor. They weren't fighting. They were screwing!
"Hey! What's-your-name!" I cried. "Stop! Back this thing up! I've got to see!"
The attendant kept on going. "That's none of your affair, Mrs. Ledbetter. I'm called Nate, and I'll do anything I can for you ... except that."
"The hell you say. I want some of that, too."
"Then you'll have to make friends on your own."
"You mean they allow us to mess around?"
I was twisting around in the wheelchair, trying to look up at the attendant's massive black jaw. It was tightly locked.
"Well?"
He clucked a couple of times before he would answer. "According to the psychiatrists, what you saw is a sort of progress for those people. They're beginning to identify and that's a healthy sign."
"You don't approve, do you?"
He looked down and smiled a little at that. "I just work here," he said.
"Well! I see it's not going to be so bad around here after all. How about you? Can you and I identify?"
"The help isn't allowed to participate," he said.
That made me snort. "No wonder you don't approve. Hmmmmm." I climbed up on my knees so I was facing backward. Leaning over the backrest, I reached for his crotch. "Let me see that thing. Maybe I can think of a way you can ... uh, observe, and I'll do all the participating. God, I'll bet you've got a beautiful dick!"
"Hey! Knock it off, lady!" To keep my hand away from his crotch, he had to dance away.
"I need fucking!" I said.
"You need a tranquilizer," he snapped.
"I'll suck your cock for you."
"Shut up!"
He pushed me down the hall rapidly with his arms stretched out as far as he could to keep me out of his pants. He didn't fool me any. I could see his cock beginning to swell. I was laughing and pointing at it when he pushed me into my room.
"Shut up!" he hissed again.
I turned in my chair and saw a young woman sitting in a rocker facing me. Her face was a blank. As far as I could tell she didn't see me at all.
"Who's that?"
"That's Triva Myers."
"She looks creepy."
"She won't bother you."
"What's wrong with her?"
"We're not allowed to discuss the patients," he said. "Please don't try to talk to her or bother her in any way."
"Why the hell not?"
He took a deep breath. "She's mute. She can't move or speak." He stood there looking at me for a minute and then frowned. Walking to a call box by the door, he pushed the button and said, "Mrs. Wilson?"
"Yes?"
"Could you come to three forty-three for a moment?"
I could hear the woman clomping down the hall. Then my black friend stepped outside, and, keeping an eye on me all the while, he spoke secretively with the head nurse.
I couldn't hear a word he said, but I did hear the woman say, "I can't help it. It's the only room left. If we stick her in solitary, who are we going to pull out?" Again there was a pause while he argued. "Well," said the nurse, "if she acts up we'll take action, but as long as it's just threats I'm going to have to let it slide."
My attendant friend had lost. Grinning, I faced him as he came in to help me unpack.
"Now that they've put you down, why don't we fuck?"
Before he could stop me I .reached out and grabbed a fistful of cock through his pants.
"Mrs. Ledbetter!" he protested. "Please!"
What a handful he had! Even soft I couldn't hold it all in one hand. His nuts, alone, would have made a sizeable bulge!
He grabbed my wrist, and, for a moment, I thought he was going to crush it, so hard was his grip "OWWWWWWW!" I screamed. "Lady!" he hissed through" clenched teeth, "Don't you ever grab my dick again. Understand?"
"I'm sorry!" I sobbed.
Stamping to the door, he turned and shook his finger toward the girl in, the rocker. "And keep your fucked up hands off of her!" His roar echoed down the hall.
He stamped out and slammed the door. I could hear the key scraping in the lock and then the bolt slid home. For the rest of the day I lay on my bed and sulked.
It was eerie having the silent girl sit there. She never once glanced my way. I was so mad I frigged myself, and I didn't care who peeked through the spy hole to see.
That was my lowest day. By evening I was ready to tease some more when the attendants brought the food. Unfortunately, my black friend was off duty. In his place were only older women who were uniformly fat and ugly. I ate. Then a nurse brought me a pill. I pretended to take it, but I only slid it down under my tongue until she turned her head. Then I spit it out and hid it under the pillow.
The nurse took the girl by the hands and brought her to her feet. The patient followed easily enough and then stood while the nurse took off her clothes and slipped on a cotton nightie.
She had marvelous tits, all tender and pointy. It was a terrible waste.
The nurse left her standing while she made down her bed. Then she backed her up to the edge of the bed and pushed her down. The girl was totally obedient-acting as though she were sleepwalking rather than being awake.
"How long has she been like that?" I asked.
The nurse smiled. "Since she was sixteen," she said.
"How old is she now?"
The nurse shrugged, then glanced down at her chart.
"Twenty-three."
"Good Lord!" I said. "Does she hear us?"
"Probably. You came in this morning, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"I'm Martha. I'll be here all night if you want anything. Don't worry, Mrs. Ledbetter. You won't be here long."
"How do you know?"
"Because you're oriented ... conscious of what's going on. We have marvelous doctors here. Whatever's troubling you can be worked out as long as you're able to talk it out. Poor little Triva, here. She can't be reached."
"
She might be out of reach to a psychiatrist, but once the nurse locked us in for the night, she wasn't out of reach for me. I could hear each time they came to check, and I pretended I was asleep, assuming that the pill she'd given me was for that purpose. When the lights went out at ten, I moved over into Triva's bed.
It was eerie at first, caressing a person who didn't respond, but I decided it was actually fortunate because little Triva couldn't tell on me, either. After messing around under the covers for a while I pulled them away, tugged her nightie up until I had it bunched up around her neck, and then I began exploring the girl's lovely body, inch by inch.
It was pitch black. I had to feel my way, but the memory of what she looked like was very plain in my head. Her breasts stood away from her body, pointing out to tender, pale nipples. Her waist was small, but it looked even smaller for her thighs were spread wide.
When I'd lain there waiting ... anticipating what I was going to do, I thought only of rubbing bodies with her to satisfy myself any way I could. Once I touched her, however, I kept thinking of Rosemary laying there so motionless that first time. How carefully I seduced her! Since this mute woman might be the only person I could play with for some time, I decided I ought to be as careful as I had been with my own Rosemary.
Grazing back and forth over her breasts and belly, I chuckled to myself. Wouldn't it be a laugh if, after all the years she'd lain there, it was Doctor Nancy Ledbetter who brought her back to life?
I didn't spend as long working up to it as I had with Rosemary, but I did give myself time to feel her up real good. When I finally began stroking my fingers over her pussy, I discovered that her pussy was hot and wet! Then I found that her flesh was covered with goose bumps, as well!
"How about that?" I chortled. "Maybe you can't see or talk, honey, but you sure as hell can feel."
I fondled her pussy until it was about to explode. I could tell by her throbbing pulse that she might make it even faster than me. Then I took my hand away and let her suffer a little while I cooled down enough to go on.
I decided that I'd have to pull the covers clear away from her so I could spread her legs out, and it wouldn't hurt to stuff both of our pillows under her ass, either.
I hopped up and set about rearranging my bedmate, chuckling to myself over what I would call her from now on. I would refer to her always as my silent partner, I decided. What a marvelously appropriate name!
I was trying to lift her when I heard someone coming. I jerked the blankets up over her and ran to my bed. Moments later a flashlight shone through the window in the door. I held my breath but no one came in. Once the footsteps receded, I went back to work.
It was hard lifting up her ass. She was a dead weight until I became impatient and ran my tongue up her slit. The girl's ass rose spontaneously then, and I slipped the pillows beneath.
"Haaaaaa." The sound whistled up out of her.
"No more of that until you're ready to do the same for me," I warned.
I spread out her legs then and climbed down on top of her. The feel of our pussies coming together sent jolts of ecstatic pleasure shooting all through me.
Our breasts merged, then our bellies, and we were warmly, deliciously joined. For some time I just lay there, savoring her silky flesh and working my pussy a little when I needed to stir the coals. Otherwise I was content to lay there and let the feelings flow.
At rest, I could feel her pulse throbbing up from the center of her cunt. When I rocked my splayed pussy against hers, our pulses throbbed as one.
It was all over so quickly it caught me totally by surprise. One minute I was feeling great. The next I felt her body shudder into a crest, and that somehow triggered me. My cunt exploded and that was that.
"OHHHHH, SHHHHIT!" I wailed. I'd have to continue it another day.
I wasn't so crazy that I wanted to stay forever in that place so I was careful to straighten out my silent partner before I staggered back to bed. No one in that nutty house would guess what I'd been up to.
That wasn't the only night we had, of course. Night after night I rubbed pussies with her and nobody ever knew. When I finally got caught it wasn't even Triva they caught me with.
That happened several weeks later, after I got to know the black, male nurse. His name was Mike and he said that Nate had told him I needed some stiff meat from a man.
There was a quiet period in the hospital that ran from two to four. For those having visitors it was a happy, busy time. For the rest of us it was boring as hell.
I'd arrived during visiting hours. That's when I saw the pair fucking. Soon I realized this was one reason the attendants and nurses didn't check around too much during certain times. That was great for them in the unlocked rooms. For me, it was hell. All I could do was proposition the men that came in to help Triva or me.
Mike didn't come to help. He came in to let me proposition him. His horn was already bulging from watching some other inmates going at it. I guess he figured I could give him relief.
"You the lady that sucks cock?" he asked.
I reached for him immediately. "Anything," I promised. "Give it to me."
He whipped open his fly and flopped out the biggest black stick I'd ever seen. How I'd liked to have had that trunk rammed up inside of me.
"Fuck me," I begged.
"Haven't time. Maybe tomorrow, if you suck me good."
I didn't have to be coaxed. I latched onto him and began sucking. I got so eager that he had to slow me down a couple of times. Then, when we were really going at it, I heard this high-pitched, horrendous scream!
I jumped back and looked around. It was so loud that it sounded like there was a wild elephant loose in the room.
It was Triva. She was standing up in front of her rocker, pointing her finger at Mike.
"OUT!" she wailed. "Get out, you black devil!
OUUUUUT!"
I don't know what Mike did about his horn. I know the door burst open a minute later and half a dozen doctors, nurses, and aides burst in. Mike somehow dissolved into the woodwork, and I snuck back into bed. No one seemed to care about "punishing either of us. They were too intent on the small screaming woman that had gotten up by herself.
The aides put her in a wheelchair and rolled her away. I never saw her again, but I heard she was better. My phychiatrist told me she was talking, and that was an important advance.
I guess the episode shook something in me, too, or maybe, without Triva around, I began taking the pills they gave me. Maybe that's what helped. Whatever it was, I quit looking for someone to play games with. I even quit playing with myself.
After six months I was pronounced cured. It was harder than being sick, in a way, because I had to carry the burden of a troubled conscience. Even though I realized that what I'd done was done while I was sick, I was embarrassed about it. I guarded against it ever happening again by becoming as up-tight as I'd been before.
CHAPTER FOUR
It was hard going home. John had visited me regularly, but I hadn't seen the children at all since John threw them out of my bed six months before. They were waiting in the car when John came for me.
"What can I say to them?" I asked.
John smiled. "Try, 'Hello.' "
When I climbed into the car, they greeted me. John had helped me into the front seat so I could sit beside him, but they leaned forward to peck me on the cheek. They were either very shy or very reserved.
I could understand that. I was almost afraid to touch them, even to say hello. John chattered away as he drove, but since he wasn't normally a talkative man, this only made the strain more obvious. Finally, I turned around in the seat and faced the children.
"I might as well get this over with," I said. I could scarcely breathe, but I forced myself to go on. "I know you're all trying not to blame me, and I know I was sick ... but that doesn't stop me from being terribly ashamed. I'm sorry! When I think of what I did to you two...."
I shuddered convulsively. John was already pulling off to the side of the road. The brakes squealed as we stopped. Then John pulled me into his arms, and we all had a good cry. They protested what I'd said, but at least the ice had been broken and we could talk.
It took time. One cry doesn't reunite a fractured family, but eventually the past dissolved and life became bearable again. I even decided that I was luckier than most. At least I wasn't tempted to live in the past.
It was not a genuinely happy life, but I'd quit expecting life to be fun. With me, the word pleasurable had an evil connotation that was suspect. It was better ... at least safer to be numb.
For the next five years I kept house, tended to the care and feeding of two children and a husband, and put my spare energies into the service of the church. I worked at it. I exhausted myself daily, both mentally and physically. I didn't give my body a chance to feel or my mind a moment to reflect. Every day I wound the spring a little tighter until something had to give.
It had been five full years. I'd almost forgotten there was any danger left. Tod was a sturdy fourteen, a freshman at Washington High. Rosemary was sixteen. She was such an exceptional student that she was to graduate a year ahead of her class in June. She had a handsome boyfriend that sang bass in our church choir and was hoping for a musical career. He was a second-year student at the college where Rosemary would be entering in the fall.
I approved of Brian as much as I could have approved of any boy interested in my daughter, but I insisted that they date only on the weekends and then, preferably, at either church or school events. John had to warn me about my nagging again. I should have realized this was a danger signal, but neither he nor I recognized it as such.
There were other signs. I never seemed to get the house clean enough to suit me. Often I'd keep puttering around, dusting and cleaning until long after everyone was asleep. John couldn't finish one cigarette without my emptying the ash tray a couple of times. I could feel the tension inside of me, but I had this notion that the better I got the tighter I'd be.
Then Brian showed up one day just after Rosemary and Tod left with their father for a trip to the dentist. Our dentist lived on the far side of Hillsborough which was nearly twenty miles away so we always scheduled as many of us at the same time as possible. Tod and Rosemary were to have fillings and John was getting his teeth cleaned. I told Brian that they wouldn't be back for a couple of hours, at least.
He agreed to come back and had actually turned to leave when I decided it was time we had a talk. I called to him and asked him to come in. I could see his chest filling up with defenses even before he turned around.
"Yes, ma'am?"
"I think this is a good time for us to have a talk."
I'm sure he'd almost rather have climbed into a snake pit, but he followed me into the living room and sat gingerly on the edge of John's big chair.
"Have I done something wrong?" he asked.
"I hope not," I said. "I just want to make sure that you understand our rules."
I began listing all the things I'd harped on to both him and Rosemary for months. He was polite enough to listen, but he couldn't keep from fidgeting. Then he settled into a sprawled slouch. This annoyed me, like everything else had, and I began picking him to pieces, mentally, inch by inch. I did this until my eyes settled on the tightly bound bulge at his crotch.
His legs were sort of spread eagled and his ass was by then lying rather than sitting oh the edge of the chair. This made his equipment thrust directly upward rather than out. His worn jeans were tight enough that there wasn't a wrinkle in that sensuously soft mound.
The tension near the back of my neck was so tight that it seemed to go numb. Then, quite rapidly, all the tensions throughout my body began to relax.
"I'm sorry to sound like such a nag," I said. "She's the only daughter I have."
"I understand that, ma'am," he said. He was straightening up as he spoke, and he looked at me like he was seeing something definitely new. "I imagine I'll be that way when I have kids, too."
I'd begun to feel light headed and giddy by this time. I'd been more-orless pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace while I talked. When my knees began to wobble, I sank into an easy chair that faced my guest.
"You all right?" he asked.
"A little dizzy is all," I admitted.
He jumped to his feet and came to me. I had a definite urge to giggle, but I squelched it. There was absolutely no excuse that I could think of for laughing about anything.
"Maybe I'd better leave," he suggested.
I was for it since I wasn't anxious to make a fool of myself. I wasn't frightened over how I felt. I just felt strange enough that I wanted to be alone. If I got another urge to giggle, I didn't want to have to put it down.
Perhaps I should have guessed that my illness was returning, but that devious, calculating part of it was already at work fooling me.
"Thanks, Brian. I'll be all right. If I can just make it into the bedroom, I can sleep until John and the kids get back.
"Let me help you," he said.
He took me by the waist and steadied me as I pulled myself to my feet. Then, half lifting, half carrying me, he helped me down the hall.
He smelled of masculine sweat and boyish virility, none of it masked with deodorants or perfumes. I could smell cigarettes at the same time I smelled ... was it bubble gum? The more his aura penetrated, the weaker I got although how much of it was pretense, I couldn't have told.
"I can't breathe," I whispered as he helped me onto the bed. Stretching out on my back, I took hold of his arm and hung on, making sure that he couldn't leave. "Unbutton me, Brian. Help me to breathe."
"Unbutton? ... where?"
"My neck."
He was frightened enough that he hurried to obey, and I wouldn't let him stop until he had my blouse unbuttoned all the way.
"My bra. It must be my bra," I gasped.
"I couldn't . ... "
I reached up and put my arms around his neck. "Help me lift up so you can unhook my bra."
"Mrs. Ledbetter ... I...."
I almost threw him out of balance when I lifted up off the bed.
"Help me," I whispered.
His hands shook as he fumbled with my bra. I had a bubbly feeling inside of me that threatened to burst any instant. I wanted to laugh ... to sing ... to run barefoot through a meadow. Even more, I wanted to make love.
My bra finally gave and I heaved a sigh of relief. I was tempted to rip off my blouse and brassiere and beg him to climb into bed, but I knew this would only frighten him away. Shrewdly I pulled myself back together again.
"Stay with me, Brian. I'm afraid."
He looked around for a chair to sit in, but I hung onto his arm so he wouldn't move even that far away.
"I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't been here," I said. "Glad I could help."
"I can't understand what's come over me. I'm not sick, really. I feel ... well, better than I've ever felt in my life."
"What?"
"Sounds ridiculous, doesn't it? I don't know. I feel so giddy and lightheaded, but ... well, free. I can see how stupid it was of me to nag at you. You're old enough to do as you please."
He perked up a little with that, but he was still watching me like a hawk. "That's okay," he stammered. "You meant well."
I stretched. Then, bringing my arms up over my head, I reached back to rub my neck. I could feel my clothes giving. One tit was almost fully explosed.
"Mmmmmmm," I purred. "For the first time in years I'd like to run barefoot. It's a wonderful feeling."
He was desperately trying to keep from staring at my tit. I closed my eyes and twisted so that it could be seen even more easily.
"Do you go barefoot, Brian?"
"Uh, sure. All the time."
His voice yodelled out the words like a child with a frog in his throat.
"I wish I were a young girl again," I mused.
I kept my head turned, pretending to look out the window, but I could feel his eyes boring into the cleavage between my tits. I shivered and let him watch the way they moved.
"Y-you're not old."
I turned and smiled at him. "Why thank you, Brian." Then I threw my head back and stared up at the ceiling a while.
I didn't know what I wanted of Rosemary's young man, but I felt warmly sensuous having him look at me. When I changed positions again and saw that his cock had formed a thick log that ran down the inside of his jeans, I reached for it spontaneously.
"I need you, Brian," I whispered.
My long fingernails scraped gently down the outline of his dick. I kept looking at it, afraid to look up and meet his gaze. I saw his cock twitch and I heard him clear his throat, but it took him forever to speak.
"I ... don't know ... uh...."
"You need me, too," I argued. "That's fairly obvious." The fingernail kept scraping around and around. "You need to learn how to make a woman happy. You can't learn that from an inexperienced girl."
"I've never ... uh...."
"That's fairly obvious."
Afraid he might back out on me, I began massaging my way back to his groin where I unbuttoned his fly. How good it felt, working against his softly protruding balls. I didn't attempt to open up his waistband which was hidden beneath a fancy, wide belt. If I'd wasted time fumbling with his clothes, he'd have had time to back out before I had him hooked. How quickly that sly ability to calculate my conquests had returned!
Instead, I squirmed my hand inside the moment I had a hole through which I could burrow. His boxers were wide open, and my fingers drove straight into silky, humid flesh.
"Ohhhhh, that's so great!" I whispered. "I've needed this healthy, young dick for a long time."
My fingers found their way through the spongy sack to the base of his trapped cock. He shuddered, but there was no effort to draw away. Instead, one hand reached out and clamped around my breast. I knew he was mine from that moment on.
I looked over at the clock. "I have to have all of you," I said. "We've got an hour. Hurry!"
Sucking in his gut, he began unhooking his belt, and my hand slid down into his pant leg. When I found the head of his cock, his pulse was already throbbing with need. I almost got my wrist trapped in his pants when he jumped up to pull them down.
"I'm sorry," he whined. "I guess I'm too nervous to think straight."
I grinned. "You're also very hot."
While he peeled down, I sat up and slipped out of my blouse and bra. His stare was so frankly hungrythat I cupped my breasts and then offered them to him.
"They need you, too," I rasped. "God, every inch of me is on fire!"
I rocked back on my shoulders and pulled my panties down before I rolled back onto my ass, and all the time I was at this, I was staring at my young man's lusty cock. It was thick and fairly long, jutting out of the bushiest black forest I'd ever seen. It looked so virile that my old sucking urge threatened to drown me with need. I held the urge in check. I knew the boy had some up-tight notions about things or he wouldn't still have been a virgin. Getting him out of his pants was enough to expect this first time. Instead of reaching for his cock, I reached for his neck.
"Come hold me," I begged. "Let me feel you tight against me."
He threw himself down beside me, hiding his face in the crook of my neck. I got a firm grip on his cock and then snuggled in next to him as close as I could. Then I wormed my tits in until they were drilling holes into his chest.
"Nnnnnnngh!" he groaned.
"You feel so good next to me ... so warm and young."
"I shouldn't be...."
"Everyone has to start sometime. This just happened. Now let me feel that healthy prick of yours here between my legs."
I guided his feverish lance into my cove, pushing the head in to let it root its way down the length of my rut. Although we were still lying side by side, and my legs were still together, I was able to squeeze his dick enough with my legs that it gave him a hint of what was to come.
"Ohhhhhhhhh!" he gasped.
"Good?"
"It's ... yeah!"
He was working so hard to breathe that there was no energy left for words. Delighted with his breathless reaction, I primed his pump with a few thrusts of my hips, causing his dick to plow through my smoldering furrow. He immediately took up the rhythm. Then I could lay there and let him do the work. It was heaven.
How prudish the young are! After Brian caught his breath enough to think, he began having second thoughts.
"This is terrible," he said, though his cock never missed a stroke. "How can I be in love with a girl if I'm willing to climb in bed with her mother?"
"Why should one have anything to do with the other?" I asked. "You worry too much."
"How can one not have anything to do with the other?" he countered.
If I hadn't liked the way he was making me feel, I'd have got up and sent him home. Impatient by this time, I searched for a way to stop his thought of Rosemary so that he could concentrate on. me.
"Quit thinking so much," I said. "Come on. Roll up on top of me and fuck."
He came, but he was still spluttering until his poker suddenly found its hole.
"Ulp!" he gasped as it slipped in, then, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!"
He lay there; shivering. His hands came around to squeeze each of my tits with a hard, demanding grip until they were cramped and bruised, yet his ass didn't move a hair.
I squirmed, wanting him to sound my depths, but he couldn't. When I wiggled, he actually groaned.
"What's the matter?" I asked. "Can't you fuck?"
"Too hot! "he rasped.
Then it was my turn to complain. "Damn!" I muttered for my cunt needed a good hard screwing, something he couldn't give.
After a couple of minutes, Brian caught his breath and was finally able to move. That first thrust was so desperately needed that it almost pushed me too far.
"AHHHHHHHHHHH!" I gasped.
"You aren't done, are you?" he asked.
It was such a ridiculous question that I laughed, and the movement from it quivered down through my pussy until it made matters all the worse.
"No," I gasped. "Go on! GO ON!"
He slammed his cock into me then, and I met him with a grinding thrust of my own. From that moment on, we both gave it everything we had.
"Harder!" I hissed. "Fuck harder!"
Through the panting moans, I heard him whisper, "I am!"
"I'm going to teach you," I Warned him. "I'm going to suck that sweet cock until I drain it of everything it's got. Now screw that mother in and let's blow!"
"
I rotated my hips at the end of every thrust, and I could feel his cockhead working around deep inside of me. It poked in here and there, and it jumped and jerked until his thrusts were too frenzied to be anything but quick and short.
"I'm cummmmmmming!" he gasped. My body swelled with elation for I was on the verge myself.
"FUCK OFF!" I cried.
He puked up his gravy like he'd been storing it up for years.
"EYIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!"
His cry was so excited, and his cum so copious, that I couldn't help but be carried over the brink with him. With a satisfied sigh, I felt my tensions all let go.
"AHHHHHHHHHHH!"
CHAPTER FIVE
Brian didn't act as my children had when I played with them. After the first day they had accepted our game naturally. When we'played, we played. When it was over, they went on about their business.
Brian, on the other hand, was full of misgivings that first afternoon. He whined and fretted around until I had to get him out of there before the family came home or they'd have guessed that something was wrong. After he'd come around a couple more times, however, he began getting pushy and demanding. Even Rosemary felt that he'd changed.
"I don't know what's the matter with Brian!" she exclaimed one night after a date.
"What seems to be the trouble?" I asked. "He acts ... funny."
"How do you mean?"
She shrugged, paused for a moment, and then threw up her hands.
"I don't know," she said. "He treats me like I was a child. He acts superior about everything when he knows I'm as smart as he is."
John cleared his throat, and we turned to see him scowling at us. "He's behaving himself, I hope," he said.
Rosemary's eyeballs rolled back into their sockets. "Of course!" she said with a snort. "Daddy, you act as though the only problem a boy can have is with sex. Brian's behavior has nothing to do with that!"
Her father only shrugged. I chuckled to myself as I watched him hide behind his newspaper. If either of them only knew!
It was the same as it had been the first time I got sick. John became the No. I enemy. It was a friendly contest, but John was the one I set out to fool. This time I had Rosemary to fool, too, yet this only made the game more fun.
I'd thought Brian was prudish that first afternoon. That was another part of him that quickly changed. Once he got my mouth on his cock, he didn't want to do anything but lay there and get himself sucked off. Then I got him too hot to think straight, one afternoon. With him groaning and whining, I pulled away and demanded that he do a little sucking, himself, if he wanted that sort of treatment from me. Hesitantly he tried it, but within minutes he'd turned into a rooting, groveling pig.
It wasn't long until I'd decided it was no fun screwing around with him, but when I told him I didn't want to see him any more, he quickly let me know that he wasn't about to give our games up.
"I never asked to fuck you," he said. "It was all your idea. Shit, I thought I was someone just getting to feel Rosy's tits once in a while."
"I've given you a pretty good education," I told him. "You don't need me now."
He laughed. "Get screwed, lady. Where else can I get someone to suck me off? Huh? Where else am I going to find a girl that lets me stick it up her butt. You think Rosemary would spread her legs and let me suck her snatch every night? You're crazy if you think all you got to do is teach me. Where am I supposed to find another broad that will ball any way I want to ball?"
"I can't help it, Brian. You're becoming a pig, and I don't get jazzed over screwing with a pig."
He came up to me and grabbed me roughly, but his hand was gentle and pleading and it slid beneath the front panels of my dressing gown. Zeroing quickly in on my snatch, he began teasing his fingers over my cunt lips until I'd forgotten all about what a gross lover he could be.
"I can't get through the day without messing with you," he said, and his lips burrowed in between my breasts, nuzzling my satin robe aside.
"Brian, please," I whispered.
His finger slipped inside my pussy lips, causing my juices to pour.
"Come sit on my face like you did yesterday," he begged. "Let me suck your snatch."
"I told you I didn't want to-"
In the end, he had his way, and I grew to dislike him a little more. Unfortunately, my daughter sensed my hostile feelings toward him. Like any other normal teenager, she reacted by falling in love with him all over again. There seemed no way to dislodge him from our lives.
It would seem, on the surface at least, that the course of my illness had spontaneously been reversed, but this wasn't true. Every other symptom continued to progress at an accelerated pace.
I was masterbating myself frequently by this time, and my house didn't interest me in the least. Since I was not involved, sexually, with my children, I didn't think of them much, either, although I would have argued that they were my greatest concern. I wasn't raping my husband twice every night as I had when I was going through it all before, because I realized at a very early stage that such behavior was suspect. Perhaps a week before I seduced Brian, I'd responded eagerly to my husband's advances one night, and I later noticed that he'd begun watching me furtively, looking for symptoms that I might be ill. I vowed then that he would never catch me, and the best way I knew to keep him in the dark was to pretend disinterest in bed.
Perhaps I was trying to fool myself about Brian, too, because I told myself that this was proof that there was nothing wrong with me. For a while I made an extra effort to keep my house clean, but it didn't last. Through it all I kept looking for someone to take Brian's place. I felt trapped because I couldn't touch either of my children or my husband without having them lock me away.
The more bizarre my behavior became, the more I blamed my troubles on John and the kids.
I read every magazine article I could find on sex, and there were plenty of them. Always I managed to find reasons to excuse myself. Men were supposed to slow down while the female urges increased. I was sure that this simple explanation covered my own behavior completely. When I'd slip into a downtown, all-night theater and let a stranger paw me, it was only a normal woman's response to an impotent husband. That's what I told myself. It was a very convincing lie.
The final blow-up came on the last day of school before summer vacation. Brian and I had been feuding and fucking as regularly as ever. I didn't know that he would be gone for the summer with his folks. I guess that's why he decided to make that last day a real "mind blower." (That's the actual words he used. He couldn't know what a prophetic pronouncement that would be for me.)
The children always left for school by eight-thirty, and Tod was back by three. Rosemary, being a senior, had hours that were more irregular so that some days she showed up by one and other days she was gone until four. With practice for baccalaureate services and orders to pick up her cap and gown that day, I had no idea when she would be home.
I stayed in bed, sleeping until ten and then played with myself for a while. When I heard the back door open, I looked at the clock. It was twenty to eleven.
"Rosemary? That you?" I called.
There was an awful lot of noise in the kitchen for one small girl, and she didn't answer me, but I wasn't unduly concerned.
"Who is it?"
I'd slipped off my nightgown right after John left for work as I liked sleeping in the raw. Throwing back the covers, I sat up and reached for my dressing robe just as Brian strolled into the room.
"Oh," I said. "It's you."
"Is that any way to greet a lover?"
"Lover. Huh! You're just someone to screw." He shrugged. "I'll buy that. What else shall we do?"
"Nothing. Get lost."
"I am, after today. My folks are taking me to Europe for the summer. You're going to miss me, Nancy."
I was surprised to see how mixed my emotions really were. "I hope you stay permanently," I said, but I was already wondering what it would be-like without him. He wasn't bashful about telling me.
"You won't have a cock to suck, and no one's going to come around begging to eat your snatch."
"I'll live."
"You going to keep bitching, or can we enjoy one last screw?"
Once I knew he was leaving, I began needing him badly. Although I'd have liked to put him down, I couldn't take the chance that he would walk away. Laughing, like it was all some kind of a joke, I held out my arms to him.
"Come on, you bastard," I teased. "Let's fuck."
"I'm ready," he said. Then he turned his head toward the door. "Are you guys?"
His voice was so calm that the words didn't soak in until three other boys suddenly appeared. They stood at the foot of the bed, staring at me.
I sat there, naked. Brian was holding my arms so that I couldn't even pull the blanket back around me. One boy whistled.
"I thought you were bullshitting us," he said. "How come you didn't tell us about this sooner?"
"Get out of here ... all of you!" I cried.
"Relax," Brian advised. "You're going to love it, and you know it."
One boy was very black. Already I had begun to wonder what his cock would feel like rammed up inside of me, but first I had to play the game.
"How dare you!" I spluttered.
I was actually bubbling inside, the excitement welling up until I could scarcely breathe. Surely one of these boys would come around to see me after Brian was gone. Perhaps one of them would make a better lover. I hoped it would be the big black.
God, isn't he gorgeous? With those shoulders on him, he's probably big all over.
"You do it first, Brian," the whistler urged. "I want to see you give it to her."
"Huh!" snorted the black. "Don't you know how?"
The others exploded with laughter. "I'll bet you do though, don't you?" I countered.
I tried to hide my eagerness behind a sneer, but I don't think I fooled anyone. When they began scrambling out of their pants as if they were obeying some hidden signal, it was the black that I stared at, my eyes burning in on his crotch until he snapped out his half-hardened pole.
One look at that purple-headed monolith and my mouth began to water. When Brian pulled my legs apart and pushed me onto the bed, I scarcely noticed, and I neither helped nor hindered him except when his body blocked my view of the black stud who was slowly stroking his marvelous prod.
Brian plugged in his dick and began fucking me, using slow deliberate strokes.
"See how easy it is, Frank?" he said. "You just saw away at her like this."
"Shut up," his friend said. "I'm not all that stupid."
Brian sighed, then slowly withdrew. "Here," he said. "You try it."
"Now?"
The others laughed, and Frank soon joined them with a nervous giggle. I tore my eyes away from the black's prick long enough to see that Frank's pecker wasn't worth dwelling on. He wasn't undersized or oversized, and I probably could have gone into ecstasy over its virginal quality had I no one else around to look at. With the black dong around, I only felt the others tickle their way to an orgasm. They roused my lust and whetted my appetite for what was to come.
"You want to suck me while he's screwing you?" Brian asked. "Go away," I said.
He wiggled his pole in front of my nose. "You sure you don't want to eat it?"
I wasn't tempted in the least, for Brian had stepped between me and my black stud. Reaching for his legs, I gave him a hard push.
"Go away. Wait your turn like the rest of them, you bastard. And you might help your friend to get his prick plugged in. I want this thing over with. I want you all out of here."
Frank didn't wait for help. He'd been squirming around to position himself ... or perhaps he'd been putting it off. I don't know. At any rate, when I called attention to the fact that he hadn't gotten with the program, he lunged forward, screwing me on the spot.
"Ahhhhhhhh!" he squealed with such a tone of surprise that we all had to laugh.
"What were you expecting? Pain?" asked Brian.
Frank's mouth hung slack, and his eyes were already glazing over with lust.
"Oh, shit!"he groaned.
He began stroking me, but his thrusts were so quick and short that it was more like a spastic shuddering than an out and out fuck. He grabbed my tits and began squeezing them and pulling them at the same time.
"Ride her, cowboy!" Brian cried.
Time is a hard thing to calculate when you're getting screwed, but I don't imagine it was more than a minute before I felt his cum gushing into my cunt.
"EYIIIIIIIII!" the boy roared.
He went so rigid that his body arced backward into a tight bow. He held that position a long moment and then collapsed. ' "Nate, you're next," Brian ordered.
I saw the black step forward, even while Frank lay sprawled across me.
"No," I said.
"What?" they echoed in unison.
"I'm saving him for last. Here, how about you? You haven't said a word."
The boy I'd spoken to was smaller than the rest. I figured he might even be a couple of years younger, but his dick certainly didn't belong to a kid. It was at least as big as Frank's or Brian's, and on his small body, it looked immense. His cock's eye was already oozing cum.
He stared at me hungrily, but he didn't make a move until Brian gave him a push.
"Go on! She ain't going to bite ... get up, Frank. Give Scotty a chance."
Between me pushing and Brian pulling, we raised Frank up enough to roll him off of me. He landed on his back, flaked out like a dead frog, except that he had a silly grin on his face and a tuckered pecker glistening with my cream.
"That's the only way to fly," he said.
When Scotty climbed aboard, it gave me a good, warm feeling. Frank had been all arms and knees. Scotty was soft and warm, and he cuddled down against me with a wriggling movement that burrowed right in. Even before he got his prick into me, he'd managed to pull one tit up to his mouth so he could begin to suck. While this was going on, his cock rooted up and down my steaming rut until I didn't care if he ever got to the main event.
"You've been practicing," I teased.
"Don't tell them," he whispered.
"Ohhhhhh? Don't they know that you have a girlfriend?"
"I don't. It's my sister," he said.
He went back to sucking my tit, and I felt a chill of excitement rush up my spine. When his pole found its way up my snatch it didn't have to be guided or pushed. It just seemed to ease on in like it knew from the start where to go. "Nice," I whispered.
"Mmmmmmmm hmmmmmm," he purred.
Slowly, he began to move, working his prod in and out with such a smooth, flowing motion that it roused me without threatening an immediate crest. Excitement poured through me until I was soaring very high, yet I found myself begging for more.
"Harder!" I pleaded. "Faster! Damn, but this is good!"
I met all of his thrusts eagerly, my response urging him on, and when even that wasn't enough, I drew up my legs, dug in my heels and raised us both up off of the bed. Frantically, I ground my cunt up against him, forcing his cock into fresh areas of need. When I felt his cock lurch within me, I knew that we would sail together through a tremendous crest. My skin crawled with anticipation, then my cunt exploded, and I was there.
"AHHHHHHHHHH! OH, MY GOD!"
I didn't hear him. I heard only my own, tortured cry, and through that pulse-shattering orgasm, I stared hungrily at my black stud's dong.
"Better move over if you can, Frank. Another dead Indian is about to fall," Brian warned.
Brian helped things along with a push for he was now anxious to climb aboard, himself, but first he leaned down and stared into my cunt.
"There's a lot of good stuff there," he said. Then he climbed down on top of me with his face zoning in on my pussy and his cock heading for my mouth.
I was soooo sleepy ... sleepy enough that I liked the idea of sucking his prick. It was as warm as a thumb and far smoother, and the warm tongue licking my snatch was soothingly sensual in a lazy, languorous way.
Frank was shocked. "How can you do that?" he asked.
"Do what?" Scotty asked.
"He's got his face buried in her snatch, and her all slimy with our cum."
I could feel the warmth of Scotty's smile. "Don't knock it unless you've tried it," he said.
"Hear, hear," agreed the black.
Brian worked steadily, lapping away at my flesh as he cleaned away the cum. He seemed to revel in it, sucking and smacking his lips as he worked.
"I dig on the way she's sucking him, but ... shit!" Frank complained. "The way he's rubbing his face in her stuff ... it makes me sick."
I wouldn't have heard him except that I'd just been through a hell of a crest, and I was down, yet it wasn't long before that old tickler of mine began to get with it again. First I felt the warmth, then a tingle, and finally I was excited again.
When that happened, my ears shut out all but the sensual sounds. I could hear Brian slurping as he rooted his way deeper into my trough. I couldn't hear mundane things like cars driving up or doors being opened.
Once I got Brian's prick to oozing a copious stream, I paused long enough to trail his cum down over my breasts. It was fun playing with it while I let it cool.
He did the same for me by pausing to lick the cum from the inside of my thighs. With an audience, it was even more fun than when we were alone.
We were very close when I heard the cry. It was so loud that it shivered through me all the way to my cunt.
"SLUT!" It was my husband.
I was a slut at that moment, and I reveled in it so much that when Brian stiffened with terror, it brought my excitement to a crest.
"SUCK ME! SUCK ME!" I cried, and then, "EYIIIIIIIII!"
Inside of me, Brian's dick turned to putty as my husband marched into the room.
I ignored him. After all, what did it have to do with him?
CHAPTER SIX
After that one, terrible cry, John turned on the boys.
"Can't you see that she's sick?" he demanded.
Although there were four of them against one, none of them dared to stand up against him for in his fury, he was a formidable foe. He only shoved three of them around, but Brian was another matter. He only slung pants at Frank, Scotty, and Nate, ordered them to dress and leave. Then he turned toward Brian. Before the boy could say a word, John decked him.
"Hey! Cut it out. Leave him alone!" cried Frank.
But when John turned back toward Frank, the boy shook his head and threw up his hands.
"I didn't mean it," he whined.
John looked down at Brian who wasn't at all anxious to get up.
"Don't come near this house again or I'll kill you," John said. "That goes especially for Rosy. You hear?"
Mutely the boy nodded.
John kept smacking his fist into his palm. It was obvious that he wished he were hitting Brian instead.
Watching him turned me on. For the first time in ages, I'd have liked to have seduced him.
"Please," whined Brian. "I didn't start this. Honest, Mr. Ledbetter. It was all her. She talked me into it weeks ago. I told her then that I figured it was wrong."
John's voice was strained as he fought for control. "My wife is mentally ill. Had you told me what was going on, I could have gotten help for her a lot sooner. Now, get out of here. I don't want to see you again."
John stepped back and let Brian scramble to his feet. Snatching up his clothes, the boy and his friends fled, dressing as they ran.
"So now what?" I asked. "Would you care to screw?"
John's expression was pained. His shoulders dropped as he turned and left the room.
Within a couple of hours I was back at the sanatorium. They didn't bother with a diagnosis from the county this time.
I didn't want to go, but I didn't fight it. I even signed papers to commit myself. I was glad we'd left before Rosemary came home.
I really went batty after they locked me up. It was as though I'd been holding in all the time. Once I got away from everyone that mattered, I turned loose of all the scheming and subterfuge. I let it all go, and it was a tremendous relief.
Although they put me in a private room this time, I was not locked up as I had been before. That first time I'd been in a locked ward for half of my stay. This time I was allowed to circulate freely within my wing.
Sex seemed to be the preoccupation of everyone. I saw it all over, and none of the nurses or doctors paid the least attention. I lay for any man or woman who asked, and when they didn't ask, I went after them.
Besides daily talks with my psychiatrist, I had morning and evening group therapy sessions to attend. We discussed our sex encounters freely in those sessions. Sometimes I'd get so hot talking about it or listening to someone else talk that I'd get up and go look for a little action.
I should have been content, but I wasn't. Always, the sex I wanted wasn't the sex I got. Finally, I told my psychiatrist about it.
He chuckled. "Are you building up to a proposal?" he asked. "If you are, I'm afraid I'm going to have to say no. As sexy as you are, my wife is a nurse here, and she keeps pretty close tabs on me."
I shook my head. "It's not you that I want," I said.
He looked disappointed. "No? Who then?"
I walked to the window and looked out to where a big black man was running a jack-hammer, cutting away rocks so they could lay the foundation for the new wing. He was stripped to the waist and glistening with perspiration.
"I got beat out of getting screwed by a black boy," I said. "I want me the biggest, blackest stud you've got." My psychiatrist was a big, hairy sort of a man. Smiling, he leaned back in his swivel chair and looked up at me through bushy brows.
"There aren't any black patients in this wing, are there?" he asked. "No, Doc," I said. "And no black orderlies?" I shook my head.
"Well," he said with a thoughtful drawl. Sitting up, he took a pencil and began tapping it on the desk. "We don't have money to buy you that sort of thing, and the lawns have only minimum security."
"I wouldn't run away," I promised.
"If I let you out, could you handle the rest of it?"
"Sure."
He nodded that he was sure I could. "Reaching a goal ... any kind of a goal ... is an important part of getting well. We don't look upon sex as something wrong here. On the contrary, it's one of the best tools we have to bring about a cure."
I grinned. 'Then what's wrong with your wife? Can't she get with the program?"
I ended up getting laid by my psych. He told me that he'd made a strict rule for himself never to touch a patient, but even at my nuttiest, I never figured I was the only one.
The next morning, I got my first pass to go outside. I was so excited that I scarcely touched my breakfast. Soon after that, one of the aides took me outside.
There was little chance of an inmate escaping, even after they got outside, for there was a high rock wall surrounding the sanatorium, and even the gardeners were trained guards.
It was still morning so my black stud had his teeshirt on. Another inmate from my wing had told me where I might find privacy outside, but how to get him there was something I hadn't figured out. The doctor had warned me that he was only temporarily employed and might not be as understanding of the patient's problem as an aide or service employee might.
I carried with me a fifty-dollar bill, my allowance for an entire month. If persuasion and enticement didn't work, I was prepared to try and buy him.
I found a rock to sit on in the shade of a large oak. My stud was no more than fifteen feet away. When he noticed me, he jumped with surprise.
"What do you want?"
"Nothing. I just came to watch."
"You one of them?"
"I work here, if that's what you mean."
"Oh. You'll have to excuse me. These nuts make me nervous. I'll be glad when this job is over."
"Why? I think it's beautiful here."
He shook his head. "You must be used to them," he said.
He went back to his jack-hammer which made a terrible noise. For fifteen or twenty minutes I sat there, watching his muscles ripple as he worked. The more I watched, the hornier I got (if a woman is allowed to call it that). When he took a break I moved over to where his water jug was. He took a long draw and then leaned over to pour a trickle over the back of his neck.
"What kind of work do you do?" he asked.
He was making conversation and probably wouldn't hear a word I said, but my brain spun, turning over the possibilities. For several seconds, nothing came.
"I'm a social director," I said finally. What are you doing? ... except for making a mess."
He laughed. "They're going to build on. I'm clearing rock for the foundation."
"You must have "been doing this kind of work all your life, as much as you've developed those shoulder muscles."
That rolled off of him. He took another slug of water and said he'd better get back to work. Before his next break, my nurse called me in.
The next day I asked to go outside a little later, hoping to catch him during his lunch hour. At eleven-forty they let me go.
I went first to the nursery to make sure no one was in the little room behind. It was empty as my friend had told me it would be. I tried the bed. It was firm but comfortable. I hurried back to the rock pile.
"Hello again."
"Oh, hi."
"Don't you ever stop?"
He pointed a thumb over his shoulder toward the hospital. "With the boss sitting next to the window?" he asked.
"How about lunch?"
He looked at his watch. "Six minutes to go," he said.
"Good. I have a special eating spot."
He gave me a quizzical look but said nothing. A moment later his hammer was rat-a-tat-tatting again. I sat back and took in every inch of his sexy frame.
He was a big man, perhaps six-four, and he was built for football and sex. He had the thick, powerful shoulders of a tackle and the narrow, swivel hips of a pass-receiver. When he hung onto that vibrating gun, his bulge quivered like a firm mold of Jell-O.
He laid aside his hammer exactly at noon. Before he could say anything I picked up his lunch pail and said, "Come on."
"Where you going?" he asked. "I don't know...."
I was already walking away from him, although it took him only a step or two to catch up.
"I suppose you've heard rumors about this place?" I asked.
"What kind of rumors?"
"Well ... that Hillside swings?"
He grinned. "Is it a rumor?"
I shook my head. "No it isn't. You should see the stuff I run into. It has me crawling the walls."
He walked along willingly with me then.
"What kind of stuff?" he asked.
I began describing the sexiest visions I could think of. Even before we reached the lath and glass houses, I could see that his bulge was taking on a definite shape.
"Then," I continued, "when I've finished my rounds and gone back to my desk, I have to sit there and look out the window at you. I don't mind telling you, you've got the sexiest body I ever saw."
We'd just stepped into the lath house. I reached back and closed the door. Then I led the way toward the back room with the bed.
"Where we going?" he asked.
I walked into the little room and turned to wait for him. He came in and looked around.
"This is where we eat?" he asked.
I couldn't tell by his tone whether he dug on the idea or whether he wanted out. I was greatly relieved when I saw him grin.
"Like it?" I asked.
He'd been very erect and tense, but he took a deep breath and hung loose.
"Depends what you want to use it for," he said.
"It's very private. See? I can eyen lock the door."
"And you want to try some black meat?"
"You mind?"
We stood there, sizing each other up. I didn't have to decide that I wanted him, but he had a decision to make. I tried to help him along by reaching up and unbuttoning my blouse until a good deal of cleavage showed.
"Are you running the show?" he asked.
For an instant I didn't understand. My brows furrowed as I stared up at him.
"How do you mean?"
He shrugged. "Are you calling the shots, or do I?"
"Oh!" I giggled with relief. "Be my guest. Anything you want to do is fine, so long as you do it to me."
He nodded, then sat down and bounced on the hard bed. "Let me think about this while I eat," he said. "You can get undressed if you like. It would help me get in the mood. You know, I wasn't expecting to ball anyone during the lunch break."
I'd been terribly nervous until then, but a wonderful feeling of exhilaration caused my spirits to soar. Chuckling happily, I hummed the stripper as I slipped off my blouse and bra. As I dropped them, I wriggled enough to set my tits to dancing. He smiled his approval.
"Nice boobs," he commented.
"Thank you. Are you ready for the main feature?"
"Sure."
He unwrapped his sandwich and spread open the bread to see what kind it was.
"Damn!" he muttered. "Tuna fish again."
How could he think of eating when I' was burning up? As I lowered my stretch slacks, I spread open my legs and arched my pussy up as provocatively as I could. The bastard raised the sandwich to his mouth and took an enormous bite.
"Hmmph! Not even any relish."
If I hadn't needed him so badly, I'd have walked out.
"Don't tease me," I begged.
He looked surprised. "I'm not ... at least, I don't mean to. You don't know how fucking hungry I get doing this kind of work. Lady, if you had mayonnaise and relish on that pussy of yours, you'd be in real trouble."
"Ohhhh," I groaned. "What a delicious thought."
He took another bite and then grinned.
"You're doing okay," he said.
He shifted enough to ease the strain on his crotch, and for the first time I saw how much his log had grown. It looked at least a foot long, and it was hard as hell.
Sitting down on the bed beside him, I reached for the thick outline of cock that ran down the inside of his pants.
All of my smart quips and the urge to use them deserted me.
"Hurry," I begged.
My mouth was dry, my face feverish as I ran my fingers up and down the length of his shaft. Even through the coarse denim I could feel the hard, inner steel and spongy, pliant outer flesh burning with excitement. They made my fingertips and my cunt tingle with anticipation.
"You ever try a black before?" he asked.
"No." I had to force myself to talk. "One was ready when my husband walked in."
He chuckled. "Your husband isn't going to walk in here, is he?"
I assured him that he was safe. While I fiddled with his pole, he ate another sandwich and drank a thermos full of milk. When he unwrapped a huge slice of chocolate cake, I couldn't wait another minute. With determination, I began unbuttoning his pants.
He didn't fight it; in fact he leaned back so I could unhook his waistband more easily. When I reached into his humid nest, he closed his eyes and smiled.
"Get him out," he rasped. "He's choking to death where he is."
But his cock was too long to pull out. I struggled until I was shaking all over. Then he lay back across the bed, and while he went on eating his cake, I finally managed to free his tremendous dick.
"Ohhhhhhh!" I gasped as it snapped to attention. "Let me climb up there this minute. Oh, damn, isn't it gorgeous?"
But he stopped me. "Ah! Ah!" he warned. "Wait until I finish my cake. If we're going to get it on, I got to have a full belly first."
"Damn!"
I could touch it, he said, but that was a moot point since I couldn't have kept my hands off of it if I'd tried. He hadn't been circumcised and the first thing I had to do was pull back his foreskin so I could see the head. I began shivering at the sight of it.
It was moist ... actually wet and shining. It was deliciously tender. I'd never seen black skin in the tender places, and I was surprised to see that it was as fine and delicate looking as a white man's prick. The color was quite black with an almost purplish tint at the end, and as I looked at it, the eye squeezed off a creamy tear.
I gasped, crying, "Ohhhh," and, without thinking, I leaned down and licked away the tear. Then the smell of him, the heady warmth and nearness of his dick enveloped me. Opening my mouth wide, I swallowed his cockhead and began to suck.
"Aaaaaaaaa!" groaned the black. "Easy! God, but that's good."
Since he thought it was good, I continued. He reached down and pulled me away.
"I only have time to make it once," he warned. "If you want in on it, you'd better slow it down."
Mutely, I nodded, thankful that he'd stopped me. I was so hot that I couldn't think for myself. I stared hungrily at him while he finished the last of the milk. Then he stood up and pulled me to my feet.
"My way ... remember?"
I nodded yes, reaching for his neck with my arms, but he turned me around. Crossing his arms in front of me, he anchored each of his hands around one tit.
"You got great boobs," he said.
I felt his cock slide down my crease. Then he reached down and fingered me until he found my ass.
"Not there!" I cried.
"Who's running this show?" he demanded.
An instant later his thick cudgel was pushing hard at my gates. I tensed, then cried out with a sudden, searing pain. It got worse as his thick dick nosed in.
"I'm dry," I cried. "You'll hurt me."
He eased back a little and rubbed the wet nose of his trunk around my puckered bun. I scarcely had time to breathe before he'd rammed it back in.
"Shhhhhhhit fire!" he cried. "You're choking me. Relax!"
I couldn't relax. I couldn't even tell him I couldn't relax because it hurt so bad. Then he began stroking, and I had to brace myself. As I changed position, some of the tension dissolved and I found that the pain went with it. I took a deep breath and tried to let go.
"That's better," he said.
No shit! I thought.
I didn't try to talk. I just kept breathing. Then I opened my eyes and saw his huge black hands kneading my breasts. It was such a delicious shock that I forgot myself and a moment later I began to enjoy the way he was fucking into my bowel. He dropped one hand down to tickle my pussy, and watching him fondle me set me on fire. I began pushing back to meet him, then thrusting forward into his hand.
"Go, white baby! GO!"
Our bodies slapped together with crushing blows, and his finger moved on down to fuck into my cunt ... first one finger, then two and three.
"Fuck off!" I cried. "Hurry! I'm going to cummmmmmm!"
He screwed in tight against me and fucked his finger furiously into my cunt. I felt his cock give a jerk, and then his gravy began to spurt.
"AHHHHHHHHHHH!" he bellowed.
That triggered my tickler. With one last gasp, I let myself drown in the thick, boiling sensations of lust.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Well, how was it?" my psychiatrist asked.
I hadn't been inside more than half an hour. News had traveled fast.
"Fine. I want more, though."
"No, I think once was enough," he said. "I want you to reflect on the experience for a while." He leaned back in his swivel chair and studied his fingernails. "If this form of therapy is to help you any, it's got to be given a chance to soak in."
I snorted. "That's what I'm asking for. That first time I was too excited. I want to have time for him to put it in and let it soak."
"Nancy! That's not what I meant."
We argued about it for a week, but he never let me go outside the building until the black man had finished his job and left. I was so angry about that that I screwed everyone and everything in sight.
That went on for about a month. Then, quite suddenly, I was over it. I'd been getting less and less satisfaction. I guess that's what made me finally realize it wasn't worth the effort.
Within two weeks I was released. I had to go in for therapy twice a week, but I could live at home. Miraculously, John still wanted me to come home. John had been brought up strictly in the church. Because of this, he'd taken our marriage vows so seriously that he would not consider divorce, even though we had little left to build on. We slept in the same bed, but we never touched. We lived in the same house, but there seemed little to talk about of any importance. Money and the garden were all we spoke of with any enthusiasm. Fortunately, when we passed through love, we passed through anger at the same time.
Tod was friendly enough to me, but Rosemary treated me with disdain. No matter how disciplined my behavior, she could not forget that I'd seduced her first real love. I couldn't blame her. I hated myself for it, too.
Rosemary finished high school and went on to take a secretarial course at business college. Tod sprinted through high school both on the track team and in his excellent grades.
I was the last to know when Rosemary fell in love. She and her father told me of the plans just three weeks before the wedding although it was to be held in our church with many guests invited.
I'd had a feeling that something was about to happen so I'd braced myself even before they called me in. When they finished telling me about it, I was able to smile in spite of the obvious affront.
"I'm so happy for you, Rosemary," I said. Tears began to roll, though I'm quite sure they were more for me than for her. "Is he a good man? Is he kind? I hope he's as good a man as your father."
For the first time in several years, Rosemary put her arms around me and we wept.
"I feel like a crumb, not trusting you," she sobbed. "Mother, can you forgive...?"
"No, no!" I scolded. "You were right to keep your young man to yourself. I could become ill again. Who knows what could happen? I would like to come to your wedding, though. Could I see your gown?"
"Of course, Mama. Of course!"
We were all closer after that, and it's a good thing because seven months after the wedding, John had a heart attack and died. Had I not had Rosemary near to comfort me, I could never have gotten along.
It wasn't that I was passionately in love with my husband. I was used to him, and, more importantly, I was helpless without him to lean on. He paid the bills, he made the decisions, he even planned where we'd go if we went out or where we'd spend our vacations. Since my first illness, I hadn't tried to think at all.
There was a good reason for this, I suppose. If I'd argued that I was perfectly capable of making my own decisions, I would also have had to accept the moral responsibility for the things I'd done. It was easier to say, "I couldn't help myself before, and I can't help myself now." Weakness is an easy trap to fall into.
Things had to change. I couldn't lean on Tod or Rosemary the way I had John. Tod was busy at school and Rosemary was living on the other side of town. I had to start making decisions on my own. I had to pay bills and do all the things one must do to keep a home going.
I'd poured all of my energy into keeping my house spotless. I extended this to include the yard after John died. During the next year, my home and garden continued to occupy most of my attention.
I'm sure Rosemary questioned Tod occasionally to make sure I hadn't seduced him now that the two of us were living alone. Frankly, the thought never occurred to me at the time. I was again riding the puritanical portion of my disease. It was that part that I considered normal.
Then I got raped.
It happened on a Sunday night. I came home from a vesper service at church to find a man ransacking the living room. I walked right in on him ... didn't hear a sound until I was almost on top of him. Then he whirled around, and I saw that he had a gun. It was pointing at me!
"Ohhhhhh!" I gasped. "What do you want?"
My voice was so high and screechy that I'm not sure he heard what I said at all.
"Keep your mouth shut, and you won't get hurt."
Inanely, I repeated my question. "What do you want? What are you doing in my house?"
"I told you to shut up, lady," he hissed. "Don't even breathe so anyone can hear."
I shook my head, my eyes opened so wide that my eyeballs ached. Breathing was the last thing on my mind at that moment. Every ounce of my being willed this man to be gone.
"Anyone with you?" he demanded.
I nodded, no.
"Where's the good stuff? You got any money?" Again I shook my head.
"Bullshit!" he snorted. "There's got to be some of it around. What about jewelry?"
He was a big man, well over six feet, and he was still very young. I figured him somewhere between twenty and twenty-five. Had I been ill, I'd have grabbed for him in a minute, but I wasn't ill, and he was pointing a gun at me with a hard, steady hand. I was terrified.
"I don't have anything but a five-dollar bill, here in my purse," I said.
"Jewelry?"
"Nothing that's worth much. My husband didn't approve of such things."
"Then how about appliances? You've got a portable stereo or something I can hock?"
I didn't. Even the television set was cabinet size.
I looked around, frantic to find something that would satisfy him. Without a truck there was nothing valuable that he could have carried away.
"I have some kitchen appliances," I offered.
He began pacing. It was the first sign he'd given of being nervous, except for his eyes. I wondered if he were on drugs, the way his eyes glittered, but he talked normally enough so I decided he was only excited or angry or whatever they get when they're pulling off a job.
"Please," I begged. "There's nothing of value here. Since my husband died, I don't have much. Won't you take the money I have and go?"
He glared at me for a moment. Then he said, "No. Why should I? I risked my neck sneaking in here so I could rip you off of something good. Five dollars won't make it. Now you ... you're not too bad looking. Maybe I ought to take you."
I started shaking my head even before he finished, but when I tried to back away, he grabbed me. His grip was strong enough to make my shoulder cramp.
"NOOOO!" I screamed. "Please. I'm sick. You might do something terrible to me."
Already I was terrified of the possibility that I might like it. I didn't want to be plunged back into the world of sensuality ever again. "Bullshit!" he said.
I decided that word must be the only expletive he knew. The world of sensuality always loosened my own tongue, but I was not in that world now. Every vulgarism he spoke offended me. Then he grabbed me by the hair, and I had no more energy to be shocked by mere words.
My head has always been very tender. To have him grab my hair paralyzed me with pain so that he was able to hold me easily with one hand.
Ramming his other hand down the front of my blouse, he gave a jerk outward that ripped every button open. Then he grabbed the center of my bra and quickly pulled it free. Another jerk and the straps gave, cutting first into my shoulders with a painful bite.
"You're hurting me! Please!"
He chuckled. Then he grabbed my breast, his fingers digging in until they made my muscles cramp. He began twisting, and I screamed.
"Go away!" I sobbed. "Leave me alone."
He slipped his hand around under my back and then gave my hair a jerk backward that bent my whole body over his arm. Before I could protest, his mouth closed over one nipple and he began to suck.
They weren't gentle draws but hard, painful ones, and in the cramped position he'd forced me into, I was helpless to do anything but cry. The tears came, and because I was facing head down, they ran across my temple and into my hair.
It was hopeless. When he began pulling at my skirt and panties, I could do nothing. Then he had to let me straighten as he needed both hands to pull down my panties. The moment he turned me loose, I tried to run.
I didn't get a foot away before he whirled me around and pushed me up against the end of the library table. Then he pulled down my panties and ripped away my pantyhose.
"Dear God!" I cried. "Don't kill me."
His brutality terrified me. Other than one slap across the face, I'd never had anyone push me around or hurt me in any way. Even as a child I'd never been spanked.
Grabbing me again by the breast, he dug in so deep that I froze with pain. He held me that way while he unzipped his fly and unhooked his waistband. Working with one hand, he eased down his trousers first on one side and then the other until they dropped to his knees. I realized then that he was going to take me there on the table. The grossness of his greedy approach made me shudder with disgust.
"Quit fighting it," he said. "You know you want to get balled."
"No! Please! Leave me alone."
"Why front me? All women dream of getting raped."
There was no point in arguing with him. Bitterly, I mumbled, "Beast!"
Pushing me up on the table just far enough that my legs left the ground, he pulled them open and stepped in next to me. Then he pulled my fanny back toward him slowly as he sunk his dirk deep inside.
"Noooooooooo!"
I was terribly tense, and he was screwing me at an odd angle so that it really hurt. I protested with lusty screams, but that only made him give my shoulders a sharp shove. I fell over backward, landing on the hard table with a thump. The immediate relief to my cunt was offset when he reached down and gave my face a hard slap.
"Shut up and fuck!" he ordered.
I sniffled and sobbed, but I didn't cry out again. My face stung where he'd slapped me. It was a slap I wasn't apt to forget. "Please!" I begged.
It was a whining plea for mercy that slipped out of me without conscious thought, but it angered him almost as much as my scream."
"You quit belly-aching or I'll ram my dick down your fucking mouth!"
I started to cry, "No!" but realized that was what I wasn't supposed to do. Raising both hands to my mouth, I smothered my compulsive cries.
He poled Into me with slow, deliberate strokes that rammed in deep and hard. There was little change in his rhythm for sometime except when he paused to point his dirk in from some different angle from that time on.
He kept probing my depths, looking for fresh areas he hadn't screwed into, and I marveled at how much I was able to loath the man. My illness evidently hadn't got started the way I thought it had.
I'd always assumed that one sexual encounter led into my periods of sexual excesses. I'd always thought that the first time was my fault. John and I had long been used to each other. Sex with him did nothing potent enough to me to trigger such an illness. It was only when I got the notion and the opportunity to play with someone else that I found myself drugged with a need for lust.
There on the library table, my attacker taught me different. I discovered for the first time that, when I wasn't ill, I was thoroughly and completely frigid! Curiously, this fact made me proud.
In a tone that was as cool as though I'd just bumped into him on a street corner, I said, "You're sick."
"Wh-what?" he asked between pants.
"I said you're sick ... mentally deranged. Only a crazy man would enjoy having intercourse with someone who wasn't able to respond."
Although my tone wasn't whiny, my words still made him furious. His fingers dug deeper into my breasts, and he slammed against me so hard that I thought my pubic bone would surely get crushed.
"Shut up and fuck!" he rasped.
I saw then that the only way he'd ever leave was to get it over with. I began working with him, meeting each thrust with a cold calculating push of my own.
"That's better," he gasped. "Give it to me, baby. Ahhhhh!"
"Hurry!" I urged.
"Screw it in deeper! Yeaaaah!"
I would gladly have killed him without a qualm if I'd had a lethal weapon of some kind. I clenched my fists and my jaw, and I went on pushing ... pushing for all I was worth.
Get it over with! Get out of here! Dear God, make the man go!
My prayer was answered. I felt his body growing more rigid and spastic, and then his cock gave a threatening jerk as though it, and not he, was in control.
"Cummmm!" I pleaded.
"Iam! I AMIEYmilll!"
A moment later he collapsed. It was almost anti-climactic for when it was over, all of the man's fury was spent. When he got up off of me and began dressing, he even apologized for raping me.
All I could say in return was, "Get out!"
I didn't tell the children about it. Tod was getting ready to go into the air force, and Rosemary hadn't been feeling well. I was afraid they'd worry, both that such a thing had happened and that I might be getting sick again. There was always that fear that once I'd started, it would happen over and over again.
To have told anyone else, like the police, would have been equally embarrassing. Besides, I was adult enough, I hoped, to be able to handle any after effects such as pregnancy or disease.
The decision not to tell anyone relieved one anxiety, but it didn't keep me from worrying that it might happen again. For several days I was so nervous that I slept little, and I jumped at every sound. Then one day the weather turned warm, and I began opening windows.
For June, the weather had been terrible. It had rained at Tod's high school graduation, and it was threatening to rain on through the rest of the summer as well. All of the windows were swollen shut, and I had to climb up on a ladder to open them. In the process I saw where both the kitchen and the bedroom windows had been jimmied.
It had probably been done by the man that raped me, but I couldn't be sure. That night Tod and Rosemary both dropped by. I confessed that I was worried about prowlers, with all the robberies in the neighborhood.
"I think we all are, Mother," Rosemary said. "Just be careful to lock everything each night."
"Have you heard anything suspicious?" Tod asked.
Reluctantly, I nodded. Then I showed them the jimmied kitchen and bedroom windows. I was quick to tell them I didn't think anyone had actually gotten in, however. I didn't want them phoning the police.
"You need a watchdog," Tod said. "It wouldn't do you a bit of good to have a gun around. Even if you learned to use it, you might not be able to use it on a man. Besides, you'd be apt to get woke up in the middle of the night when you wouldn't know which end of the gun was up."
Tod's right," Rosemary agreed. "A dog is a lot safer. Either that or you could find another widow to come live with you."
"No, thanks. I don't want anyone here with me. I'd rather be alone than take in a stranger."
"A dog, then."
"Yes," I agreed reluctantly. "I guess it will have to be a dog."
CHAPTER EIGHT
For nearly a week the three of us looked for a watchdog, running down every lead in the newspapers as well as tips from all our friends. The trouble was that each of us had a different idea of what a watchdog should be.
My only requirement was that the animal be yippy so that it would sound an alarm any time someone came near. The trouble with this view was that all the dogs that barked at strange sounds were apt to bark all the time just for the fun of it, too. They were small enough to suit me, but they seemed to be all over the place until it made me tired just to look at them.
Rosemary went by blood-lines. Dogs were bred to do different things, she said. All we had to do was pick out the right breed and my safety would be assured. The trouble here was that there are a dozen breeds that make good watchdogs, depending on what kind of protection I needed.
With Tod, it was the kind of protection that he concentrated on from the first. He figured that I needed to be alerted to any emergency, but that wasn't enough. He wanted an animal that could defend me, as well.
"But aren't they dangerous?" I asked. "I've heard of big dogs turning on their masters for no reason. Why, I know of a woman who fainted, and it frightened her big poodle so that he took a big bite out of her cheek. She almost bled to death, and her scars are hideous."
I shuddered at the memory although I'd only seen the woman once.
"Poodles are nervous," Rosemary informed me. "It's a trait of the breed."
"All high-bred dogs are apt to be nervous," Tod argued. "What I'm looking for is a large, well-mannered mutt."
"A mutt? Oh, Tod! Mother can afford something better than that."
"There is nothing better than that," he said with the absolute confidence of an eighteen-year-old.
I was proud of him, and I felt that choosing a watchdog was more of a man's job, so I took his side.
"Let's let Tod do it," I told his sister. "Let's quit chasing around, spinning our wheels. I'm going to go home and wait for him to bring me a dog."
"Mother, it's apt to look gross, and you couldn't count on how well it would perform, either."
"Rosemary," I said, "we're going to let Tod take care of this. It's a man's job."
My sudden firmness shocked them both, I guess, because their mouths dropped open, and then Rosemary hugged me and began to laugh.
"Good for you, Mother," said Tod.
His sister agreed. "It's about time you took control of your life," she said. "I think you're both nuts, but I'm not going to fight it any more."
A cloud darkened our fun at that moment, for Tod caught Rosemary's remark on our being nuts. I saw him give her a knowing look and a tiny frown that was meant to warn her without being seen by me. She caught the look right away, and her smile fell.
"It's all right, kids," I said. "She didn't mean anything by it, and I wasn't bothered."
They both apologized, and we tried to go on from there, but the day's luster was gone.
Two days later, Tod brought me the ugliest, most loveable mutt in the world. His name was McGillicutty.
He had a light, red-blond mane, and the hair was so dull that it looked like he was covered with dust. He was shaggy, but his hair wasn't thick so he had a moth-eared look about him, and I couldn't see how he could attack anyone when his thickest hair hung over his eyes. Once I parted that hair, however, I discovered one, beautiful, blue eye. The other one was green. His back was knee high ... perhaps a little more, so I assume one would call him a medium-sized dog. I figured that if he could neither warn nor protect me, he just might make a burglar laugh so hard that he'd give himself away.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Don't kid me," Tod scolded. "You like him. You know that he's right."
I nodded my head. "Yes, darling son. This scroungy looking mutt fits me perfectly."
"He's worked sheep," Tod explained. "The guy that owned him is going into the service, same time as I am. His granddad had the sheep, and he died, so there's no one to leave the dog with. He'll take care of you, Mom. He's not a big dog, but he's got a lot of heart."
CHAPTER NINE
McGillicutty did have a lot of heart. He was mature enough to be quiet when there was nothing to bark about, and he was sure enough that he wouldn't shut up if there really was something out there. Most of all he was company. After Tod left for the service and I was, for the first time, really alone, McGillicutty kept me from feeling lonely.
I couldn't see his fond, continual gaze because the hair was always flopped over his eyes, but he was never more than five or six feet away, waiting. He might look asleep, but all I had to do was to glance his way, and his head came up and his ears perked.
I talked to him a lot, and he'd cock his head to one side as though he were trying to understand.
I'd never been able to sympathize with anyone that got attached to a pet until it happened to me.
A couple more years went by. I slipped into my forties without changing much. I still weighed exactly what I had when I married, and though I had some grey hairs, my skin was still fairly tight, and my face was almost totally free of wrinkles. It was as though I'd remained a child through all the years of dependence and was only now beginning to mature. I liked my independence. I even liked living alone.
It was a month after my forty-first birthday when my sickness returned. I knew it was coming from the first overt symptom, but I didn't care. If anything, I welcomed it. With no one around to hide from, I could give myself up to it completely, and that's what I did.
I'd noticed that my genitals had begun to tingle, and I had to wash myself more frequently, but the first knowable symptom came one day while I was playing with McGillicutty.
We were playing ball out in the back yard. I'd throw, and McGillicutty would fetch. Usually, he'd drop the ball at my feet and jump back, tongue hanging out a foot as he panted with anticipation, waiting for me to throw again. Then one time he returned it, paused, sat down, and began to "scratch.
"Flees again?" I asked.
Absently I waited, only half-looking at him until a scarlet inch of cock suddenly stabbed out of his sheath. My eyes snapped back into focus. It was the first time I'd noticed how sensuous that part of him was.
Over and over that livid pointer probed in rhythm with his scratching hind leg. Had he kept it up another minute, I'd have reached for it, I think.
Once his itch was satisfied, he wiggled happily, ready to play again.
"Come on, sport. The game's over," I said.
Whirling around on one heel, I headed back to the house. There could be people watching, I told myself. It was better to get into the house before I let go.
Not the living room, stupid, I told myself as I stepped through the sliding glass door. You can see through the window in the front door.
I wasn't expecting anyone, but what I had in mind was so private that I didn't want to take the chance. There were few salesmen these days, but the Camp Fire Girls, Boy Scouts, and their ilk came by in droves.
When I reached my bedroom, I looked down at McGillicutty and smiled. :
"Are you ever in for a surprise," I told him. "Now hop up on my bed and lay down, boy." I snapped my fingers over the bed and he obeyed. "That's the boy. Now lay down. That's a good dog."
I patted him, and he immediately rolled over onto his back. He watched me out of the corner of his eyes as he struck a pose. I watched his furred sheath. Nothing. The only part of him that was moving this time was his tail. Impatiently, I reached down and pushed back his pouch.
The moment I applied pressure, his slender prick stabbed out at me a full inch or more. Almost from the first touch, it began to stiffen. At first it was as big around as a pencil, shovel or spade shaped at the tip, and surprisingly long. Once it had hardened, it was as big around as a fair sized cigar, and longer and longer, yet.
The most sensually interesting feature was not the size but the color and texture of his precious dick. It was a livid red, but it was so wet and tender that it seemed to be oozing moisture right from the start. Somehow, even the color was enticing because it stabbed out of a cream colored pouch, and against the rough texture of fur, that blood colored prick was the most stimulating cock I'd ever contemplated getting fucked by.
If there ever was such a thing as a devil, and if women really did become witches by making a pact with the man and sealing it by getting themselves fucked, then I imagine they got fucked with a cock very similar to McGillicutty's. The devil would never be so unimaginative as to have a normal looking cock like a normal mortal has. No. He'd have something more like a dog's. I'd heard that Satin's cock had three prongs represented in the drawings by a three-pronged tail and a three-pronged spear. I couldn't believe that, unless it was three prongs just like my McGillicutty had. Three like that would be a trip!
I'm going off again, I thought, and a warm, wonderful feeling shivered through me. This time I'll savor every minute. If this is insanity then everyone should be insane.
I took my hand away from his pouch. So far, I hadn't touched his prick. I'd just looked at it. Stepping away, I hurried to undress. My cunt was burning up.
McGillicutty watched me. I wondered what he was thinking as I slipped down my panties. Once they were gone I was bare. I stood there a minute, fondling my breasts. There was something sensual about freeing them after hours of being trussed. Smiling, I lay down beside McGillicutty and put my arms warmly around him.
"Come here, you mutt," I said. "Let me give you a hug. I hope you're going to make us both very happy, but if you don't, I'll love you just the same."
McGillicutty wormed his way into my neck, his entire body wiggling happily as I stroked his head. Then, when I released him, he looked at me like I'd deserted him.
Stretching out on my back, I spread open my legs and pulled his muzzle around so he could get a sniff. I didn't force him or shove his nose into it. I just laid his head on my belly with his muzzle pointing south.
"Do your stuff, lover," I whispered.
I lay there for a minute and nothing happened. Reaching for a second pillow, I doubled it and stuffed it under my head so I could see what was going on.
McGillicutty was wearing his I-just-broke-thelamp-don't-beat-me look, and his eyeballs were turned almost forty-five degrees around in his head so he could stare up at me.
If I hadn't been hot as hell, I'd have given the whole thing up. Instead, I began petting his head.
"It's all right, honey boy. You aren't doing anything wrong. Mama wants you to love her."
It had been easier when I seduced my kids than it was with the dog. I kept petting him and pushing his head down a little farther until his cold nose lay in my bush.
Just another inch, I thought. Come on! Put out the fire in my cunt!
Still he didn't move although I could feel his body beginning to shake.
What am I doing wrong? I wondered. It shouldn't be this hard to get him to screw. After all, animals don't have a conscience. Animals like sex. Then why doesn't he? ... Of course! I didn't get him hot. I didn't touch him much more than I do when I bathe him. He's not sure that's what I want!
I slid my hand down underneath his body and groped around until I found his cock. Slowly I began pumping his sheath until enough prick emerged to get my hands on. The instant I took hold of his prick, McGillicutty began to whine.
His nose sniffed and the hot air tickled over my swollen pussylips. It was a delicate sensation, but exciting. A moment later, his cold nose eased on down against my crease.
"Ohhhhhhh," I sighed. "Yes, lover.-There! There! Do it there!"
I rolled up my twat and spread myself as much as I could. I was insensed with lust, yet I couldn't force him to move any faster. I had to lay there and take what he gave.
And the taking was deliriously good! His cold nose eased down the length of my rut, and it was followed by a shimmering, feverish tongue.
"Oh God!" I cried.
My body bucked with excitement. In spite of myself I began lifting rhythmically against his muzzle. I would have liked to lay there for hours, to savor all the exciting nuances of this forbidden fruit, but I couldn't. I was too fucking hot!
The feel of his prick was heaven in my fingers. It excited me almost as much as what he was doing with his nose and tongue. It fucked into my finger with excited, rapid strokes that told me he was as hot as I was.
He was my dog, and I wanted him to enjoy it as much as I did. I wanted to do everything with him that I would do with a man, only I wanted to do it all at once, and there was no way that that could be.
"You're going to be my lover," I rasped. "With you around, I won't ever need a man. Oh, McGillicutty, I love the way you nose around!"
With one hand I was pushing him on so that his nose was fucking in tight against my cunt hole. I'd have loved it if he could have screwed it in all the way.
I could feel a big lump forming halfway down the length of his cock.
"I've got to have that inside of me, McGillicutty. Come on, turn around here. Somehow we're going to get that fucker screwing into me."
I pulled him around so that he was laying on top of me, but his cock was stabbing my belly until I took the pillows from behind my head and stuffed them under my ass.-.
"There now!" I panted. "Now, let me point it up inside. Easy! Just a minute. Now once more and ... Ahhhhhhhh!"
When that hot, wet love muscle slid inside of me, it was all I could do to keep from screaming out my joy. It was all I'd ever dreamed of ... all and more.
McGillicutty was every bit as excited as I was.
He whined and moaned as he worked, thrusting, withdrawing to gather his strength for another thrust. He couldn't fuck as rapidly as he had into my fingers because of the differences in the way we were built.
A dog is built to stab up toward his belly. His cock runs parallel with his underside and only an inch or so below. In order to have him pierce me, I had to hug him very tight so that not only my cunt was close to his belly but my stomach and chest as well. Hugging this close slowed his thrusts and made it last longer for both of us.
Still it didn't last nearly long enough. Soon I slipped into an erotic fog. I couldn't see or hear or feel anything but that fucking pole and the knot that was swelling ever larger inside my cunt.
I wondered if I'd get hung up on it. It didn't worry me, but I remember titillating myself with the idea.
The knot seemed even hotter than the rest of Kim, and he was easily five degrees or more hotter than me. Where I'd reveled in his tender, child-sized pole, I now became equally insensed by the man-sized thickness of his knot.
My only complaint was that it was rushing by too fast. I wanted to stop it, savor it, examine and revel in its newness.
"Easy! Please, McGillicutty ... wait!"
I was talking to the wind for neither of us could hold back the tremendous power that our two bodies were generating. Every thrust' was like lightning, every withdrawal like sparks of fire spitting out of a calderon of molten steel.
THE END came spectacularly. We were like two bodies suffering through a grand mal seizure while trussed together as one. All sense of rhythm had left us. We shook spastically as the fire engulfed every part of our being.
"AAAOOOOOOOO!" wailed McGillicutty.
And I shrieked, "EYIHIIIIII!"
When we collapsed, there was far more than just a feeling .of relief. There was an overwhelming feeling of affection that possessed me so that I wanted to smother my pet with love.
I hugged him warmly to me and told him how wonderful he'd been. Though his cum gushed from my cunt, I didn't care that it spilled over my spread. I could think only how dear and wonderful my McGillicutty was.
I rolled from side to side with him hugged in next to me and I laughed and buried my face in his scroungy fur. All of the expensive dog food in the world hadn't made him look any better. Any more, I didn't care. It was a part of his personality, and I loved him just the way he was.
"Now, this is going to be our secret," I said in a conspiratorial tone. "Are you listening?"
McGillicutty had began licking my breast.
"Mmmmmmm, now pay attention ... but don't stop. When Rosemary comes around, or when Tod comes home, we're going to have to put on a front. You, follow me?"
McGillicutty's tongue followed around the curve of my breast, but his eyes snapped a quick yes.
"Mmmmmmm," I purred. "Now that I've got you, I'd like to sell this house and move away somewhere that the kids couldn't find me. No one could ever separate us then."
Already I'd realized that the sickness had returned. I knew who the enemy was and what the stakes were. Even more important, I'd begun to plot a way out of facing the inevitable. I wasn't getting sick gradually. This time I leaped into it with both feet.
The idea of running appealed to me. Almost without thinking about it, I began caressing McGillicutty's soft underbelly and sheath while I thought of various places to which we could move.
My precious pet had blown his cork so completely that he didn't move when I began stroking him. I could feel by the growing hardness of his dick that he was enjoying my fondling game, but he didn't start fucking into thin air the moment I touched him that time. He just lay there with his pecker hanging out, and his tongue kept licking away at my tit.
I leaned down and pressed my lips against his brow.
"Sweet McGillicutty," I whispered. "You're as horny as I am. If we can't do anything but lay around screwing each other, how the hell are we going to find time to run away?"
I picked McGillicutty up and laid him down in the lower-middle part of the bed. Then I stretched out so that he was laying between my legs.
"Come on and eat me some more, lover. Get me back into a fucking mood."
CHAPTER TEN
McGillicutty and I spent most of our time in bed after that. I found that my need for him was more compulsive than any need had been before. I couldn't keep my hands off of him, and even when he whimpered and tried to slink away, I pushed his nose back into my cunt.
"I'm sorry, baby," I kept telling him. "Just once more. Please, just once more."
It wasn't long before my genital flesh got sore, and I suppose he must have been sore, too. Even that didn't stop me because the sorer I got, the more sensitive my flesh was. I seemed to have to fuck all the time.
The soreness finally turned into ulcerations that were too painful to touch. I still needed it, but I couldn't stand to have it. I looked McGillicutty's prick over carefully, but his had no pussy ulcers like mine did. I figured the difference must have been caused by the raspiness of his tongue for his flesh was just as tender and sensitive as mine.
Within a week, I couldn't have left the bed even to crawl to the bathroom. I had no choice but to call for help.
Should I call Rosemary? What should I tell her? If I'd picked up a bacteria or something, would the damage be as bad as this, or would a doctor guess immediately what I had done? If, on the other hand, I confessed that I was sick again, would Rosemary check McGillicutty's cock and get rid of him? I couldn't bare for that to happen.
I was tired of faking it. I didn't want to go back to the sanatorium, but I was tired of lying, too.
I decided to call my family doctor. I didn't tell him how it had happened. I only told him that I was too sick to get into his office.
He suggested I ask a neighbor to bring me in. I hadn't thought of that solution, but I was sure that Beth Higgins wouldn't mind. She lived halfway down the block, and she was always willing to help. I called her, and she said she'd be over in five minutes.
Pulling my nightie out from under my pillow, I forced myself to squirm into it. The pain hit me with every move.
"McGillicutty," I said. "Get off the bed, boy. Down! That's a good boy. Now lay down there. Stay!"
Amazingly, she came in five minutes, just as she said she would, and she didn't bother with knocking and forcing me to yell.
"Nancy?" she called from the front hall.
"This way. I'm in the bedroom."
She didn't know where my bedroom was, but she followed the sound of my voice.
"Hi!" she said when she found me. Her voice was so cheerful that I could almost have hated her. "Now, what seems to be the trouble. Can you walk?"
"It's my cu ... my genitals," I stammered. "They're all infected or something. Just turning over is so painful that I can scarcely stand it. I don't know how I'm going to make it all the way to your car."
She held up her forefinger and smiled. "Fear not, maiden in distress. I just happen to have a wheelchair in the car."
"You do?" I asked incredulously.
She nodded proudly. "Last winter Grandma Dunn died and Woody suggested we keep her wheelchair instead of selling it with everything else. You can't imagine how often it's been needed since. Don't go away. I'll bring it on in."
Everything was going wonderfully. Rosemary wouldn't have to know until I'd found out what the doctor had to say. If I could fake it with him, perhaps she would never have to know. Actually, if I could fool him, it wouldn't matter whether she knew or not. I checked McGillicutty once more. He was still laying at the foot of the bed.
"Good boy," I said. "Stay."
Beth was back in a couple of minutes, and though it was excruciatingly painful to budge even an inch, I finally managed to ease myself into the chair.
From there to the car was painless. I had a few bad moments making the transfer, and then we were on our way. I thought about the quiet, steady friend Beth had been and immediately found myself wondering how she would be in bed. For my disease there seemed no cure.
"This is going to be embarrassing," I said. I was thinking it would be hard not to proposition everyone that treated my twat, but I dared not say such a thing to her.
Beth agreed. "I don't envy you," she said.
When we got to the hospital, she went in for help rather than try to get the wheelchair out again. They brought a stretcher, and two young men lifted me into it. When they were signing me in, Beth whispered that I wasn't the only embarrassed one. They'd made her tell them what was wrong with me before they'd send out the men.
I had to wait nearly an hour before my doctor arrived. I suggested that Beth go on home, but she stayed. Finally a nurse asked me if I was Dr. Amherst's patient and I said yes.
"He just came in," she said.
She wheeled my stretcher from the hall into one of the examining rooms. I was thankful that Beth remained outside, but once I was left alone I began getting nervous. Would I be going home with Beth or would he see through my lie and have me put away?
"Hello, Nancy," my doctor finally said. "What seems to be the trouble here?"
I remembered to act embarrassed when he raised the sheet and forced my legs apart. Then I held my breath and waited for the verdict. Would he know?
He didn't say anything for a long time. Then he called to a nurse and ordered some .kind of medication.
"Where's Rosemary working?" he asked.
"Don't call her, Doctor. Please."
He shook his head. "I have to Nancy. You know you're sick again. How long has it been?"
I couldn't fight it any longer. Wearily, I told him that it had been less than a week.
"Who's the victim? Anyone you could get in trouble over?"
This time I had to lie.
"Only myself. I couldn't bear to hurt anyone else."
"Good girl. Look, let's tell Rosemary that you came in on your own. Would you like that?"
"Yes. I guess I did in a way. I've wondered all morning if you'd know. I sure hate telling her, though. She must hate me like this."
Dr. Amherst gave my arm a pat. "Nobody hates you, Nancy. You can't help this any more than she could."
They sent Beth home and called Rosemary. We had a good cry together before I left, but she was happy that I'd caught myself this time.
"Take care of McGillicutty for me, will you?" I asked. "I hurt so bad I couldn't get up and feed him this morning."
She promised that she would. I watched her carefully, and I'm sure there was something more on her mind, but I don't think she guessed about me and the dog. Just before the ambulance arrived to take me to the sanatorium, she blurted out the problem that she was faced with.
"I can't send you to Hillside this time, Mother. You don't have the money, and neither do we."
I had a million questions, but I didn't ask any of them. I just stared at her and waited.
"The state hospital isn't as bad as it's cracked up to be," she argued. "And anyway, you've caught this thing so quick, you'll probably be out in a week."
I'd heard a lot about the state hospital. I didn't like any of it.
"You know that I'll probably never come home again," I said. "Are you going to sell my house while I'm gone, too?"
"Mother!" she wailed.
She threw her arms around my neck, but I couldn't respond. I felt like I'd been sentenced to the gallows for a crime that wasn't even a crime.
I didn't allow myself to call anyone names, and my twat hurt too bad for me to move much, even after they packed it in a salve. Knowing that I was being sent to the state insane asylum, I decided to behave as sanely as I could.
"Do what you like with me," I told her. "I won't be there long. I'm going to get well. Just be sure that everything I own is waiting for me when I get back, either as it is or in cash."
Tearfully, Rosemary promised that she would. For the first time I left for the asylum feeling like I had the upper hand. There'd be no hatred to return to, and she promised to keep McGillicutty for me, too. I had only the period of my internment to dread.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
State hospital did not allow its patients to practice sex therapy. Everywhere I looked there seemed to be some stern authoritarian determined to keep the patients apart. I didn't mind this for a few days until my cunt began to heal. Then it was hell.
It was a dreary place with ugly buildings and ugly patients, and the help was even uglier.
It was depressing. If this was mental illness, I wanted no part of it. I remembered Triva Myers, the little mute girl that was my roommate that first time I was put away. She'd been so beautiful that one felt sympathy for her, as though she were a modern sleeping beauty.
This same malady in dozens and dozens of dull-eyed zombies was something else again. To look around was to become depressed, no matter how ill or healthy you were.
I saw a man I would have liked to screw around with. He held his hand tight against his crotch so I figured he had the same urge as I did. If we'd been at Hillside, we'd have balled.
I only saw him during the social hour, a ridiculous time when they wheeled all of us freaks in together and played music for us to glower by. I would rather have masturbated than just sat there, but there were nurses and aides all over the place, and I didn't want anyone marking me down.
I was determined to get out of there. From the moment they carried me in, I'd held myself in, forced myself to behave when anyone could see. In my bed, I frantically masturbated through most, of the night, but during the daytime, I behaved with calculated normality.
The third or fourth time I saw this man I decided to talk to him. The nurses had kept after me to socialize so I decided, what the hell? If socializing would get me out of the place, I might as well do it with someone I liked.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Are you an aide?" he countered.
"Nope. I'm a patient. I want out of here so I'm going to socialize all they like."
He thought about that for a minute and then nodded his head.
"I'll buy that," he said.
"I don't care whether you buy it or not," I quipped. "If this was Hillside, they'd have suggested we go to bed together. Here at State ... "
His eyes suddenly came alive! "What?" he asked.
I grinned. "They use sex therapy at Hillside sanatorium. Time passes a lot faster there than it does here."
For the first time he took his hand away from his crotch. I saw the outline of an enormous, cocked-up trunk. He reached over and touched my arm.
"Lady," he said, "if you've got the time I'll find us a place."
"Here?" I asked incredulously. "I thought they had every corner guarded. I can't even go to the bathroom without someone counting my farts."
"I know of a place," he said with a sly smile. "What's your name?"
"Nancy ... and yours?"
"Paul. I'm so horny I could rape a knothole if they'd let me."
We were both lucid enough that we knew we couldn't rush off that moment or an army of aides would have followed us. Instead, we plotted out our tryst and the conspiracy of it was half the fun.
"What do they call what you have?" he asked finally.
I shook my head. "I've never let them tell me.
Frankly, I enjoy being sick more than I like being well, but you have to play the game, I guess."
He nodded. "I know what you mean. Once I'm over it, I go back to being an up-tight citizen complete with prejudices against anyone that's having fun. I'm a terrible bore."
"Me, too."
He chuckled. "Of course, when I'm sick I have a terrible urge to bore ... anything and everything."
"Me ... me ... me!"
One of the aides came over then. He'd probably decided we were having too much fun to be normal. He jumped into the conversation with both feet, and Paul and I went along with it. How I relished conning the man! I could see by the sparkle in Paul's eyes that he must have felt the same.
I left them before the aide did. I moved over te some women that were as nutty as fruit cakes. I stood so I could watch Paul, and I ate him up mentally while I pretended to listen to their recitals of woe.
I had no trouble staying awake that night. We were sent to bed at nine, and I was to meet Paul at midnight. At eleven forty-five, I slipped out of bed when the ward nurse went to pour herself a fresh cup of coffee.
I slept in a room with thirty beds. The nurse's desk sat in a corner next to the door. I waited until she stepped through the door and turned toward her desk before I slipped out, and though I was shaking with excitement, I walked normally so that if she caught me I could say I was going to the John.
The bathrooms are huge affairs that serve eight or ten sleeping rooms like mine. Once I'd made it past my guard, I still had the other eight chances of getting caught. I passed the coffee pot, a danger spot if there ever was one. Fortunately, no one was around. I kept looking for a place to hide if someone came by, but asylums aren't built that way, I guess.
When I reached the women's John, I found it empty, and that was another relief. Now, if it would only stay that way for a while.
Paul had told me that he'd meet me there. I'd wondered how he'd make it into the women's wing until I heard a noise and looked up to see the big air conditioning grate move. A moment later he pushed it out, turned it, and pulled it back inside.
"How do I get up there?" I asked.
Grinning, he raised his finger to his lips.
"Shhhh," he cautioned. "The walls have ears." Then he pushed through a huge bundle of sheets and when they dropped, I saw that they'd been knotted into a ladder. It was cumbersome and out of shape, but when I tested it, the first rung held. I slowly made my way clear to the top.
I fell into his arms. Our embrace was torrid, but Paul shook his head when I started to undress.
"Not yet," he whispered.
Together, we pulled up the rope, and then I had to wait until he'd set the grill back into place. After all that he motioned me to follow and we crawled down the duct for another twenty or twenty-five feet.
"There," he said at last. "Now did I find us privacy or didn't I?"
"You're marvelous," I agreed.
We scrambled out of our clothes and grabbed for each other. There was no humor or cunning left in us. We were long-starved animals, greedy for lust.
He never kissed me, at least not on the lips. Instead, he grabbed for my tits and then twisted around so he could suck my twat.
I didn't fight it, for I needed the same things. With a muffled cry of pleasure, I groped through the darkness for his cock and quickly popped it into my mouth.
We siphoned each other greedily, but always in silence. All the vile things I wanted to say, I had to leave festering in my brain for there was noise enough in our fucking. One cry would have alerted a dozen guards.
His tongue bore deep inside my love-hole, and when he rooted up my rut, every movement set me on fire. It seemed like mere seconds before I felt myself edging close to the brink.
"Easy," I whimpered. "I'm going to blow."
He took his face from my pussy long enough to curl around and whisper, "That's all right, baby. I'll blow you a dozen times if you'll make me cum."
"Are you ready?" I asked incredulously.
He grinned. "I've been ready for a week."
He returned to his work, and it was deliriously exciting work that he did. I sucked in his big fucker like it was a chocolate covered banana and we sucked ... and sucked.
I tried to hold off, but I couldn't. Thankfully, I felt his body begin to stiffen just as I was about to blow. Shivering and shuddering, we soared into a tumultuous crest together. Our cries had to be gagged, but the excitement was very real.
Once the first tension was eased, we could be more civilized about the whole thing. For a few minutes we laid in each other's arms and went through at least the pretenses of affection. It wasn't hard for me. My body was so content that I could easily love the person who'd calmed it for me.
It wasn't five minutes until we were both hot to screw again. This time Paul turned me away from him and fucked my ass. I loved it. When he'd finished, I sucked his prick back to life and then climbed up on top of him and gave myself a ride.
"Damn, how I've missed this," he groaned when we were quiet again.
"Paul, if we can do this every night, we can fake it through the days and get out of here."
"What have you got to go home to?" he asked.
"A dog ... a daughter and son, but they're not home any more. My husband died. How about you?"
"Nothing. My wife divorced me. I'm not allowed to see my kids again."
I hugged him warmly. "That's all right, Paul," I said. "My kids understand. You can come home with me."
CHAPTER TWELVE
As it turned out, we didn't have to fake it, and it wouldn't have done us any good, anyway, since they caught us the third night.
For a month thereafter, we drove each other crazy at the socials, telling each other what we'd like to be doing. We'd both end up masturbating until they hauled us away. Then, in April, I was taken into the administrator's office. I was surprised to find Rosemary and her husband there.
"What's this all about?" I asked.
Rosemary kissed me and whispered for me not to ask questions. I was to listen for she hoped they had some wonderful news for me. By the time the administrator-cleared his throat and began to speak, I was beside myself to know what it was all about.
"Nancy," he said, "we've been authorized to test a new drug here at the hospital. It's been tried back East with a hopeful amount of success. Do you understand what I've said so far?"
Impatiently, I nodded yes.
He went on. "So far, there's been no noticeable side effects, but that is a possibility which must be considered in any experiment. Do you have any questions so far?"
I shook my head.
Rosemary's Tom spoke up. "Is this another tranquilizer or does it affect the problem itself."
"A very good question. No, we wouldn't test just another tranquilizer. We have a lot of those. It's thought that this drug replaces an enzyme missing in the patient. You know, so many more glands have been discovered in the human body. Many of those glands are in the brain, and we have no idea what many of them do, as yet. Just recently, for example, there was a breakthrough of a similar nature that allows sociopaths to thinks and behave more acceptably. So many of our men in prison suffer this disease. We called them incorrigibles when they were only suffering a chemical deficiency."
My daughter interrupted then. "Would that mean that mother's glands got off occasionally. Most of the time she's normal, you know.
The administrator shook his head. "Not really, Mrs. Hull. Your mother swings on a pendulum. She is either very tense or very loose. We hope this drug will help her be relaxed without the looseness.
I didn't say anything, but I liked the idea. When he finally insisted that I say yes or no, I asked a question, instead.
"Will Paul get this drug, too?"
"Paul? Paul who?"
I glanced at Rosemary and back at the administrator. I didn't want to have to confess in front of my daughter.
"You know who Paul is," I coaxed. "He has the same problem as I do, and we sit together at all the socials."
The man frowned as he studied my chart for a moment. Then he called on his intercom and my ward nurse soon came in. I sat there petrified that she'd tell the whole story in front of my daughter so I introduced her to my family before he could say anything.
"Do you know the last name of a friend of hers named Paul?" he asked. "I understand they meet at the socials."
Mrs. Miller's eyes darted from the administrator to me and back again. I held my breath.
"That's Paul Hildebrand," she said finally. "I believe you'll find him in Ward C, room seven."
"Thank you, nurse. Would you know ... well, never mind. I'll call his doctor."
Mrs. Miller had already started for the door, but she turned and smiled. "I believe their diagnosis are similar," she said. "Perhaps that's why they've found such sympathy for each other. They've become very good friends."
I could have hugged her, even though she was still the enemy. Rosemary and Tom signed the necessary papers so that I could participate in the experiment if I wanted to, and I signed, too, after they promised to offer the same deal to Paul if his diagnosis proved to be similar to mine.
I could hardly wait until it was social time. I had my make-up on and my hair brushed a good hour before they said we could go, but still Paul was waiting for me when I came through the door.
"I'm in!" he cried jubilantly.
We hugged each other happily and to hell with what the aides thought.
"They've already called you in then?" I asked, though the answer was obvious.
"Yes, thanks to you. They'd missed me somehow when they went down the list. If you hadn't held out, I might have missed it."
I was hot for him, as always, but I was a little embarrassed over his giving me so much credit.
"I don't want to go home until you can come with me," I said. "I don't even want to be cured unless they cure you, too."
"Did he tell you how it would be?" Paul's eyes snapped with excitement. "No more up-tight nerves. It'll be wonderful. I may even be able to sue to see my kids since I'll be able to prove that my behavior was physically based."
"If it works," I warned. "Remember, it's still an experiment. We mustn't hope too hard."
"It'll work," he told me confidently. "You'll see."
And, of course, it did. It was like a miracle, the way everything changed. The miserable, burning urgency left first, and soon I could think of other things than sex for long periods of time. I didn't get choked up with shame, either. The whole thing was wonderful, it was like a dream.
Within a month, both Paul and I were released. We would have to take a pill every night for the rest of our lives, and we agreed to fill out a monthly questionnaire for the next five years, but those were the only strings attached. In return, the administrator took care of our blood tests before we left so that we were able to marry the day we were released.
He wanted to have us married there at the asylum, but Paul and I felt that was a little much. Instead we had a small wedding at my daughter's house where Paul met all my family and friends. Perhaps the most important meeting of the day was between Paul and McGillicutty. Fortunately, they hit it off fine.
And finally we went home to my house, Paul, and McGillicutty and me. Rosemary had cleaned it until it shone, and there were cut flowers and plants all over.
"It's a real love bower," Paul said.
"I hope it will be. It certainly never was before."
He shook his head. "Don't think of before, Nancy. You and I have something rare going. We think alike. Hell, we even screw alike!"
We laughed at that. Paul had brought a bottle, and after kissing me soundly, he poured us a drink.
"This is just to prove that we can be alone without tearing each other's clothes off," he said.
Remembering our trysts in the air conditioner shaft, I giggled even before he poured the bubbly.
"Here's to more and better times together ... for a long time to come," I said.
Paul grew serious then. "We haven't discussed how," he said.
"How? What do you mean?"
"Are you going to think I'm sick if I want to do the same things we did before?"
The relief was instant and overwhelming. I had to sit down before I could answer. McGillicutty jumped into my lap.
"That's been the burning question on my mind since the day you proposed," I said.
"Well?" His voice sounded anxious.
"I married you because we understand each other," I said. "That's why it was so easy to fall in love with you. I also married you because I dig your brand of sex. It shouldn't be as frantic as it was before...." I giggled, then added, "Or quite so frequent. I hardly think I'll be up to six or seven times each night ... but ... I don't want to give up anything ... not even McGillicutty. I hope you'll get turned on by him, too."
He sat down and took me into his arms.
"How about now?" he asked. "While we're having our drink, why don't you slip off your panties and coax that animal of yours to do his thing."
A shiver of excitement rushed through me. I put McGillicutty down and slipped out of my panties. Then I reached under my skirt and snapped my fingers.
"Here, boy," I whispered softly. "Come lick Mama's pussy for her."
McGillicutty nosed his way in and I spread my legs until I'd made plenty of room.
"Ahhhhh," I whispered as his cold nose edged into my steaming rut.
"Good?" asked Paul.
I looked up at him and smiled. "It's wonderful!" I said. "I can't describe it, really. It's not like you'd do it. You can't even compare it with a man ... but whatever it is, it's good. I'd hate to give up either you or him."
"Pull back your dress so I can watch."
I leaned far back against the back of the davenport, and I edged my ass to the edge of the seat until my torso was laying almost straight from head to foot. My eyes had glazed over with passion as I whispered, "Why don't you?"
Dreamily I watched him lift the hem of my skirt and fold it back over my belly. I could see McGillicutty's muzzle buried in my snatch, and I could see Paul's open-mouthed desire as he looked on.
"You are good enough to eat," he rasped.
"You like the way he's doing it?"
He didn't answer. He was too engrossed in watching what was going on. .
I wanted him to enjoy McGillicutty as much as I did. "Look at his prick," I said. "He's got a beautiful dick, Paul. It should be working by now."
My love slid off the edge of the couch and sat on the floor. I could tell by McGillicutty's breathing the very instant that Paul began fondling his dong. The animal's panting became labored, and his ass began humping like mad.
I could see how McGillicutty liked it, but I couldn't see PauL "Like it?" I asked when my curiosity could stand no more.
"Damn!" he exclaimed.
I waited. I heard McGillicutty panting all the harder, but still nothing from Paul. "Well?" I demanded.
"My God, his prick is hot!" he said. "It's damn near burning my hand."
"Mmmmmmhmmmmm," I purred. "That's why it's such heaven deepen my cunt."
"I've got to see. I wonder if they're hotter inside, too."
"Stick your cock up his ass and see," I said. "McGillicutty won't mind
"No. Not until I've seen him fuck you."
That, brought me awake. "Here?" I asked. "You mean right now?"
"Why not?"
I giggled.-"Don't marriages have to be consummated to be legal? I don't know if it would count if we had a dog between us."
Paul shrugged. "Who cares? Please, Nancy. Get him up there. Let me see his prick knifing into you. My God! Just thinking about it makes me burn."
I reached down and lifted McGillicutty's muzzle up onto my belly where I could look into his eyes.
"Come on, baby," I said. "It's time to fuck Mama. Come on up here, doll."
Tail wagging until his ass was jumping all over the place, my canine lover edged his way up my body. I ran my hands down over his body and hugged him to me. How wildly different was the feel of him.
I dug my heels into the mattress and lifted, opening myself to him as much as I could. Then, with Paul's hand to guide in his prick, McGillicutty stabbed in his feverish stick.
"OHHHHHHHH!" I gasped. "OHHHHH, DAMN!"
Shaking with nervous excitement, the dog began to fuck. All I could see was his humping ass, but I could feel. God, how I could feel!
"Screw it in, boy!" urged Paul. "Fuck that mother in! Oh, Nancy, if you could only see. I've got to take color movies of that scarlet prick knifing into your snatch. Shit! I'm going to cream off in my pants."
I was so content, and Paul was so miserable. I stared up at him through a sensual mist, loving him with my eyes. It was several minutes before I could think straight enough to help.
"Don't waste it, love," I whispered. "Shove that sweet fucker of yours up McGillicutty's ass. He'll enjoy it as much as you."
Paul already had his cock out. It looked hard and angry, but when I suggested he fuck the dog, his poor prick gave a furious jerk all on its own.
"Yes! Got to do something. Damn, am I ever ready! Just hang onto him so he won't snap at me if he doesn't like it." The poor man was shaking.
"He'll like it," I promised. "McGillicutty is like us, love. He digs it all."
I watched as Paul raised the dog's tail and began probing under it with his fingers. With McGillicutty busy fucking me, it wasn't easy to match rhythms, but Paul leaned over and finally let the animal skewer himself. Holding his shaft against McGillicutty's ass, he stood firm while McGillicutty thrust back and forth. With every backward lunge, that animal gave Paul another paralyzing thrill.
I couldn't actually watch Paul's cock slip in, but what I could see thrilled me. Paul's eyes were closed, and his head was twisted back as an agony of excitement poured through him.
"Ohhhhhhh, my God!" he gasped.
The intrusion into his ass slowed McGillicutty for a time, and that was good, because we were both ready to blow. I lay there, watching Paul waver, and I knew that he was as hot and excited as I was. He never fucked. Neither of us moved very much. We just hung there motionless and let the animal do the work.
At the last instant, Paul's eyes opened, and he gazed hotly down at me.
"Great, baby," he whispered. "It's really great."
"Ready to cum?" I asked...." trying ... make ... it ... last," he rasped. "Can't. Let it cum. Oh, cummmm!"
His hips began jabbing forward with quick, powerful strokes as his cream belched out to fill the animal's bowel.
"EYHIIIII!"
It was a lusty, happy cry that echoed through the house. An instant later, his body went limp. It had been a fast trip, but a wild one.
When he pulled out his hose, McGillicutty whined, but then he discovered that his ass was free to move. Lowering his muzzle with determination, he began fucking again in earnest.
I was ready for him. With quick, nervous jerks, I began thrusting myself forward to meet his frenzied jabs. Harder and harder I worked, now frantic to reach my goal.
"Screw it in, boy!" I cried. "Faster! Harder! Fuck, fuck, FUCK!"
There is a crazed portion to every uninhibited bout with sex. It didn't worry me. I ground my body up against the animal's cock and felt his knot rubbing tightly down deep inside. Giving myself totally up to it, I reveled in pure, sensual lust, savoring each erotic nuance until the very end.
When it came, it was like a flash flood, rolling through my body until I felt like one, big pulsing vibration of consummate lust. "AHHHHHHHHH!" I cried. Satisfaction! Relief! Fulfillment! And I was satisfied and relieved. And, for an hour or more, I was fulfilled. Paul and I romped naked through the house with McGillicutty at our heels. We cooked Crepe Suzettes and smeared them with blueberry jam.
We perked a pot of coffee. After what we'd had to drink at the institution, it was as much a treat as anything we could have had. Then at two a.m. we noticed that McGillicutty had deserted us. Tiptoeing into the living room we found him sleeping on the couch. "Shhhhh!" warned Paul.
He led the way to the bedroom and quietly closed the door. I giggled at his precautions. We were both acting like five-year-olds.
"Are you trying to avoid our baby?" I asked.
He shrugged. "I didn't want to hurt the old boy's feelings," he said, "but you and I are the ones celebrating a wedding night, after all!"
I rushed into his arms. There was warmth there and strength. There was also a delicious tingling feeling where his cock quickly rose to knock at my soft underbelly.
Bear hugging me to him, Paul lifted me up and then lowered me gently onto his cock. I felt it slide into my cunt as naturally as though they were magnetically drawn together.
Paul was enough taller than me that my feet wouldn't touch the ground once my cunt was skewered.
"I'm going to carry you to the bed this way," he said. "I guess most men carry their brides over the threshold in their arms, but I'm going to use the part of me that first attracted you, Nancy, and it's the part that's going to hold on to you, too."
With his arms and mine to brace us, he walked to the bed. "You ready?" he asked.
I hung on tighter as we toppled over onto the bed. I loved the way he rammed into me as we hit.
"Fuck me that way," I said.
"There's a lot I've got to do to you."
His lips began with my face, kissing, nibbling their way over my flesh until they'd given their attention and warm approval to every inch. Then they moved down to continue the treatment on my neck and ears. Long before his kisses reached my breasts I was anticipating them excitedly. His pole lay quietly embedded in my belly while his mouth made love to me.
There was so much more time than there had been at the hospital. It wasn't just that we had to hide. When we were sick everything was more frantic and intense. What a joy it was to be able to relax and enjoy all that we had to give each other.
His mouth finally settled around one nipple. I shivered with excitement as he began a gentle sucking action that reached clear down to tickle my cunt.
His hands kneaded my ass, each working one cheek against the other. Occasionally a finger would stray on into my crease to fondle my tightly puckered bun.
"You like it up the ass?" he asked.
"You know I do," I said. "You've screwed me there before."
"But do you like it? Can you feel it?"
"Not like a man does, but it's good."
He didn't say any more for a while, but I could tell he was thinking about it because his finger kept circling my bun until the muscles were loose and relaxed.
"How do you know what a man feels like?" he asked several minutes later.
I chuckled. "If you want to wait a minute I'll peel a carrot and show you. I've used them on McGillicutty. That's why I knew he'd like it when you fucked his ass."
Paul didn't say anything, but his cock gave such a lurch that I knew he was turned on by the idea. A moment later, he rammed one finger on into my bowel and began, slowly, to fuck it in and out.
His cock was doing crazy things by this time, moving inside of me like it had a mind and a will of its own. It wasn't long before it had me jumping with excitement. I began humping rhythmically up against him, rocking my pussy into his flesh with the same deliberate pace he was fingering into my bowel.
"Fuck me, lover," I pleaded. "Turn over," he said.
He pulled out, and I turned over although I'd been more than satisfied with things the way they were. Reaching for a pillow, I stuffed it under my belly and drew up my knees so that I could raise up my ass.
He snapped at the bait like a sailfish, ramming his dirk in with one, powerful stroke. For an instant it hurt like hell. Then the pain vanished as I sucked in a lungful of air, and I was able to actually push backward to meet his second thrust.
His fingers searched out my pussy this time just as they'd searched out my ass before. For a moment or two he fingered my rut and then he began fucking two fingers into my hole.
"Ohhhhh!" I moaned.
All of the excitement returned until I was again riding close to the' edge. With eyes glazed and thoughts fogged, I imagined myself in a fantasy that was so exquisitely sensual that it seemed almost real.
Paul's excitement was as intense as mine for he moaned and shuddered feverishly.
"What an ass for frigging," he cried. "I'm so fucking hot, I'm going to blow!"
"Screw me!" I begged. "Screw my tail!"
He pounded his prod into me, and my ass rose to meet every thrust. It was a wild, frantic action for a minute or two. Then I felt his cum gushing into my bowel, and my own emotions soared.
"EYIIIIII!" wailed Paul.
Before his cry was stilled, I had joined in with a chorus of my own.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I was deliciously content when it was over, but I didn't pass out the way Paul did. After a couple of minutes, I got up and looked down at him. He was really flaked out.
I went into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee. Then I got hungry and began looking through the refrigerator for something to snack on. In the vegetable crisper, I found a bunch of carrots.
That looks good, I thought. I pulled out a couple and carried them to the sink.
In a drawer I found a potato peeler. After rinsing off the carrot, I began flicking off the outer peel. That's when I remembered my fantasy and the remark I'd made about using a carrot on the dog.
My fantasy hadn't included the carrot, but it could have. When I was a little girl I used to suck my thumb while I fingered a favorite blanket. I continued the habit even after I'd started to school so the memory was still sensually pleasant whenever it came alive. Of late, however, I replaced the thumb with a limp, soft cock, and in place of the blanket I preferred fingering a puckered ass. It was this fantasy that had flitted through my mind just before my release.
I knew that Paul wanted me to try a carrot on him. Even if he didn't think he wanted it, I knew it would give him a tremendous thrill. Men are funny about their asses. Perhaps they're afraid of seeming gay. Whatever the reason, they love the feel of it once it happens to them.
I looked down at the carrot I was peeling and saw that I'd rounded off the end of it just as I'd done when I used it on the dog. It was by this time roughly shaped into a male penis although I'd picked a carrot that was somewhat more slender.
Why not? I asked myself. I never get to suck a soft peter like I want to because the moment I suggest it, a guy s prick is bound to get hard. So Paul's asleep. He wouldn't get hard before I got it in my mouth. And he wouldn't know I was going to screw him with a carrot either. So, why not?
I kept working at it until I had it completely smooth. It was moist and cool feeling when I ran my fingers over it.
All right, Paul, I thought. Get ready for a thrill. You're going to get screwed like you never got screwed before.
I didn't bother to scrape the second carrot. I ate it on my way back to the bedroom.
What are you doing this for? I asked myself. You surely don't need more sex this night.
That was true enough. I wasn't burning up with desire, but the thought of making Paul happy pleased me so that I couldn't wait to try it. Besides, it was always very pleasant to have sex when one was satisfied. There was a lethargic, lazy quality to it that couldn't be felt any other way.
I opened the door and peeked in. Paul was still sound asleep, and he hadn't moved so much as a hair. He was still lying on his back, his arms and legs spread wide so that he took up most of the bed. His pooped pecker lay flopped over on his thigh.
Gingerly I climbed onto the bed, reached for a pillow and plumped it up between his legs so that I could stretch my head on the pillow and my neck stretched over his thigh. I had to move one arm so that my legs would have room to stretch out, but I did this without disturbing him. Then I raised his leg long enough to slip my hand and the carrot underneath.
I lay still for a minute or two after I'd gotten comfortable. I wanted to make sure that he was sound asleep before I began. While I waited, I looked at his precious pecker laying soft and loose there on his thigh.
I was excited, but the feeling was more in my breast than in my cunt. It was as though I were waiting in the wings, ready to walk on stage. I wanted terribly to please my audience. If only I could do everything right!
Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I thought about lazily sucking my thumb. Then I picked up his sweet, vulnerable dick and slipped it into my mouth. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on the child-memory of how it was.
Like a baby nursing its mother's breast, I sucked his spongy flesh. I could feel it move and then begin to grow. Paul's breathing became uneven, and several times he twisted and turned, but his groin remained motionless, never daring to move away from the mother warmth that was engulfing it. I kept the motion gentle and undemanding.
"Nnnngh," Paul groaned.
My free hand reached down to knead his balls, then moved on down beneath to locate his bun. As soon as I touched it he strained forward to meet my caress.
How you need this, baby, I told him silently. Everyone needs to get screwed once in a while. Poor darling. You won't do without anything you want from now on.
I wallowed his cock around in my mouth for the last time. It wouldn't be long before I couldn't hold it all in my mouth for it had begun to grow rapidly the moment I pressed my finger into his ass.
"Nancy," Paul whispered. "Ohhhh."
It was now or never. I'd worked my finger around his bung hole until the muscles were all loose. Reaching for the carrot, I slipped the tip of it into Paul's gut and then began to push.
"What the ... my God!"
"Easy," I said. "Relax."
"It's cold! What the hell are you ... AHHHHHHH!"
The moment that cold, hard carrot touched against his joy button, Paul's cock came vibrantly awake. Not only did it become fully inflated in an instant, but it was also as hard as steel. He lurched upward, driving it clear into my throat, but before I could gag, he jumped back, ramming his ass against the carrot for all he was worth.
"Nancy!" he cried again. "Oh, baby, this is wild! Quick! Roll on top of me. I've got to eat me some snatch!"
That seemed like a good idea. I threw one leg up and the momentum carried me over until I could settle in against him. I had to move my arm before I could work the carrot again, but a moment later we were making it very good for each other again.
My pussy lay in his mouth, and he opened his mouth wide enough to take it all. It was such a wonderful feeling that I worked my cunt from side to side, grinding it further in.
"Ohhhhh that's good!" I said.
From above I could devour his cock with even more abandon and once I'd moved off his thigh, he could spread his legs wider giving me more room to work.
I didn't jab the carrot in. I pushed hard and steady, then tried to pull with the same kind| of force. Once in a while I'd pause long enough to stir the pot by twisting it into a different spot.
Paul groaned with every thrust. The sound bubbled up out of my' pussy while his tongue painted wide, flat strokes of fire over the length of my rut. When he began stabbing it into my cunt, I knew that the end was very near.
"Nnngh! Nnngh!" I grunted.
"Mmmmmmm!" he moaned.
I could feel when he was ready. When the first shot of cum hit my mouth, I rammed that carrot in and twisted for all I was worth. With that cold lover shoved up his ass, Paul really blew.
"AHHHHHHHH!"
His cry blew a million tiny bubbles of air into my cunt. It was enough to trigger my own release, and as the overwhelming sensations engulfed me, I knew that this time I'd konk out, too.
"You're going to kill me," Paul teased.
I looked down at him and smiled. Then I noticed that McGillicutty was standing beside him. Shaking my head, I pointed to the dog whose angry prick was again stabbing thin air.
"Don't blame me for all of it," I said. "It looks like McGillicutty needs a little now."
Paul turned over on his stomach. "Take care of it, will you?" he asked. I turned over, too. "You do it, precious. It's your turn."
